#the falcon headcanons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

batmanlovesnirvana · 1 month

Text

Chapter two | Under Gotham’s Shadow.

masterlist

pairing : battinson!bruce wayne x fem!oc.

words : +7k.

author’s note : The second chapter is here! Just a reminder that English isn't my first language, so if there are any mistakes, I apologize in advance. We're meeting a lot of new characters in this chapter, so I hope everything makes sense. If anything is unclear, feel free to ask questions!

cw : bruce being a dick as usual, 18+, thriller, medical procedures, angst, mental health issues, noire, canon-typical violence, POV alternating, gritty, horror, illness, slow burn, action, fluff, mutual pining, forced proximity, crime families, comedy, crime, fighting ect… read at your own risk !

AFTER LEAVING the mayor's house, Maryam reluctantly approached her car.

Sliding into the driver's seat, she finally allowed herself a moment to breathe. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the steering wheel, shutting out the chaotic world outside. The muffled sounds of journalists shouting questions and the wail of police sirens barely registered as she tried to process the night's events.

Her mind replayed the grim scenes in a loop— the mayor’s lifeless body, the blood, the devastation in young George’s eyes. It was a deliberate murder, no doubt about it, and something deep inside told her this wouldn't be the last. A shiver ran down her spine as she pondered the motives behind the killing. Why target the mayor? She didn't know him personally and, to be honest, barely cared about the man. His face was familiar, but only in the way that all politicians’ faces are—seen, not truly known. Despite keeping up with politics, she could hardly recall anything of substance that he'd done for Gotham.

Sure, he’d put Salvatore Maroni behind bars, but Maryam suspected he was just another cog in the Falcone family's machine. Who in Gotham wasn’t at this point? The city was still in shambles, with criminals running rampant, homelessness skyrocketing, and the gap between the rich and poor only growing wider. Every promise the mayor made during his campaign had turned out to be empty words, nothing but lies wrapped in false hope.

Everything was a mess.

Yet, despite her cynicism, she found herself more worried about George than the murdered politician. The boy was innocent, a child who had nothing to do with the murky underworld of Gotham. Her aunt had been babysitting him for three years now, and Maryam had often found herself at her aunt’s house, playing with the boy, listening to his innocent laughter. She couldn't help but feel a pang of protectiveness for him.

But what really freaked her out was the vigilante. She had quite literally stumbled upon him, and the memory sent a shiver down her spine. He was taller than she imagined, his form imposing in a way that felt almost otherworldly. But it was his eyes that haunted her the most—those piercing blue eyes, the bluest she had ever seen. They weren’t just blue; they were the kind of blue that poets of the Renaissance would have wept over, likening them to the tragic skies painted by God himself, sorrowful and burdened with the weight of the world.

His eyes were like a sea under a storm, blue but ringed with red, the color of exhaustion, the remnants of battles fought, and the silent scream of hopelessness written in every shadow. They were the kind of eyes that held the world’s tragedies within them, where hope was a distant, dying light, struggling against the overwhelming tide of despair.

And the way he gripped her—firmly but not forcibly—sent a jolt through her, like a live wire connecting them. It was as if he was afraid of breaking her, as if she were a delicate flower and he was the brutal wind, dangerous and unpredictable, but somehow hesitant to cause harm. It was electrifying. No, it was more than that. It was mortifying. Yes, that was the right word. The sensation of being held so carefully by something so dangerous—it terrified her.

Another sigh escaped her lips. She had to stop daydreaming, a habit that both gnawed at her and offered comfort in equal measure. But no matter how hard she tried, those blue eyes, full of a sadness she couldn’t comprehend, kept pulling her back into the memory.

Raising her head, Maryam stretched her neck and glanced at the clock in her car. The night had dragged on longer than she realized. She fished her phone from her back pocket, the screen lighting up to reveal a picture of her younger self with her parents and siblings, a bittersweet memory frozen in time. She quickly typed in her password, intending to call her aunt Meysa, but the screen flooded with notifications—several missed calls from her aunt and her siblings. By now, the news must have spread, and they would be worried.

She pressed the call button for her aunt and placed the phone on the dashboard, putting it on speaker. The ringing echoed through the car, the foggy windows a testament to the cold outside. She undid her updo, letting her hair fall, and massaged her scalp as she waited for her aunt to pick up. Finally, the call connected.

“Allo? Maryam, I have been calling you for two hours! You don’t respond to me or your sisters!” Meysa’s voice was thick with worry, not giving Maryam a chance to speak.

“No, I’m fine, Aunt Meysa. I was working—” Maryam started to explain but was cut off again.

“Like always,” Meysa said in Arabic, a tone of gentle reprimand in her voice.

Maryam sighed. “Look, I wanted to call you to ask if you’ve seen the news?”

“Not to ask how your old aunt has been doing?” Meysa teased.

“I literally saw you this morning!” Maryam replied in Arabic, exasperated.

“I know, I know... But yes, I’ve seen the news, although I received it before.”

Maryam furrowed her brows at this. “What do you mean?”

“Rebecca, the Mayor’s wife, called me in tears! I was getting ready for bed when my phone rang,” Meysa explained, then quickly added with a tsk, “She told me her husband was dead! Killed! Can you believe that, yah Maryam?”

Maryam listened, nibbling on her nails and massaging her scalp with her other hand. “Not really, it’s Gotham, have you forgotten?”

“I can’t believe they did that. Killing the Mayor. I never liked him anyway, but the boy? Miskeen, Wallah. I told her to bring him to me so I could take care of him, but she refused. She’s right; it’s better he stays with his mother and family. He must be traumatized.” Meysa continued, brushing off Maryam’s comment.

“I saw him and talked to him—” Maryam began, only to be interrupted again.

“You were there?” Meysa asked, surprised.

“Yep,” Maryam confirmed. “It was a horrible sight. And like I was saying, the boy was really traumatized. I tried to comfort him, but...” She grimaced, shaking her head. “Seeing that kind of thing really messes with your head.”

A heavy silence hung between them.

“You’re right,” Meysa agreed quietly. “I’ll talk to his mother when I can. I don’t want to bother her—God knows how things must be for her right now.”

Maryam only hummed in response, her gaze drifting to the chaos of journalists outside her car.

“What else did you see there?” Meysa asked, hopeful for more information.

“You know I can’t tell you, teta. It’s confidential,” Maryam replied, taking her phone in her hand.

Meysa huffed. “Fine, fine. I suppose I’ll see it in the papers tomorrow.” Then, as if remembering something, she added, “By the way, I made dinner—couscous.”

“Noted. I’m coming to sleep at your apartment then. I’m not working tomorrow morning anyway. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Salam, and be careful—or you might run into that satanic devil.” Meysa warned, her tone half-joking.

Maryam laughed, her thoughts flickering briefly to the vigilante. Oh, if only you knew. “Yeah, okay. Bye.”

She ended the call and started the car engine, the rumble breaking the quiet of the early morning. Without another thought, she sped through the empty streets, heading towards her aunt’s apartment.

────୨ৎ────

Bruce removed his helmet with a quiet exhale, the motion slow and deliberate.

The cool air of the cave brushed against his sweat-dampened skin, a stark contrast to the warmth trapped beneath the black armor. As he pulled the helmet free, the shadows lifted from his face, revealing a man who carried the weight of a city’s sins in his eyes. His blackened gaze swept the cavernous space around him, the dim light catching the maining streaks of dark camo that clung to the edges of his eyelids, a haunting reminder of the night he’d just endured.

He reached up, his fingers deftly removing the contact lenses, the tiny sensor bands embedded within reflecting the harsh glow of the monitors around him. The lenses were more than just a tool—they were a gateway to his world, a lens through which he witnessed the darkness that engulfed Gotham. He placed them on the workbench, their curved surfaces still warm from his eyes, before shifting his attention to the grainy video footage playing on the screen.

Nirvana playing on the background; the scene replayed in stark black and white, the distorted image of a gang member convulsing as he was tased in the neck. Bruce’s eyes lingered on the man’s face, reading the fear etched in every twitch of his muscles. He knew that fear well; it was the same fear that had once gripped him as a child, staring into the eyes of the man who had taken everything from him.

He stood, his eyes scanning the vast space of the cave, the eerie silence of early morning settling around him. The remnants of a bygone era surrounded him—an unfinished black muscle car sat hulking in one corner. Monitors lined the walls, their screens flickering with the latest news. The headline that caught his eye made his stomach tighten:

"MAYOR MITCHELL MURDERED."

The newscaster’s voice droned on, filling the cave with words that felt like distant echoes: "...this certainly isn't the first time Gotham has been rocked by the murder of a political figure. In fact, in an eerie coincidence, it was twenty years ago this month that celebrated billionaire philanthropist, Dr. Thomas Wayne, and his wife Martha were slain during Wayne's own mayoral campaign in a shocking crime that remains unsolved to this day..."

Bruce’s gaze hardened, his jaw tightening as the familiar pang of loss surged through him. The past had a cruel way of resurfacing, no matter how deep he buried it.

He sat back, his eyes scanning the footage on the monitor. He paused as the camera caught a glimpse of her—Dr. Maryam Halimi.

Even in the grainy, night-vision footage, she stood out, her presence both captivating and unsettling. Her expressive hazel eyes had been wide with shock when she stumbled upon him, her hair meticulously styled in a French twist updo, a stark contrast to the chaos around her.

There was something about the way she held herself, a blend of poise and vulnerability, that gnawed at him.

Her presence was an unexpected calm amidst the storm of violence and despair.

Bruce leaned in, his gaze sharpening as he studied her features. She had looked at him with those eyes—greenish-yellow, filled with tragedy, hauntingly beautiful, and framed by the weariness of someone who had witnessed far too much yet clung to a fragile hope. A sudden comparison flashed through his mind, almost disorienting: her eyes were like the sky at dusk, desperately holding on to the last traces of daylight before succumbing to the darkness. They were eyes that bore the weight of the world.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought, but it clung to him stubbornly. For a brief moment, he had seen his own torment reflected in her gaze. The deep blue of his eyes, like a painting etched in sorrow, had found a mirror in hers. It was a gaze that spoke of shared suffering, even if she was unaware of it.

Bruce replayed the scene, his heart rate subtly rising as he relived the moment she had stumbled upon him. He hadn’t expected her to be there, and the way she had frozen, her eyes widening in shock, had left an indelible mark on him.

He captured her image on one of his computer screens, letting it linger there before switching to another monitor to continue reviewing the footage.

A metallic clank echoed through the cave, pulling Bruce’s attention away from the screen. He looked up to see Alfred stepping out of the freight elevator, his figure cast in the half-light. The older man’s face, etched with years of wear and scars of a different kind, was a picture of quiet concern.

Bruce turned back to his work, avoiding Alfred’s gaze, but the tension between them lingered in the air like a ghost.

“I assume you heard about this...?” Alfred’s voice was low, tinged with the weary resignation of a man who had seen too much.

“Yeah,” Bruce replied, his tone clipped, eyes fixed on the footage he was fast-forwarding through—frame by frame, dissecting every moment of the crime scene.

Alfred moved closer, his steps echoing softly on the stone floor. He glanced at the screen, his eyes widening at the sight of Mayor Mitchell’s body. “Oh. I see...” His voice faltered as he took in the gruesome scene. “...dear God...”

As the image of the cipher filled the screen, Bruce froze the frame, his hand reaching to print the image. The lines of the eerie symbols etched into the Halloween card were now stark on the paper. Alfred’s breath hitched as he took in the sight, the chill of the moment settling deep into his bones.

“The killer left this for Batman?” Alfred’s voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear he kept carefully masked.

“Apparently.” Bruce’s reply was curt, as if discussing a minor inconvenience rather than a message from a murderer.

Alfred’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You’re becoming quite a celebrity... why is he writing to you?”

“I don’t know yet.” Bruce’s voice was flat, betraying nothing of the storm brewing inside him.

"And her?" Alfred gestured toward the computer screen where Maryam’s face was paused, captured in the moment their eyes had locked. Bruce hesitated, his gaze briefly shifting to the screen as Alfred studied the image.

"Does she have any link to what happened—"

"No," Bruce cut him off sharply, his tone leaving no room for further questioning.

"She’s pretty," Alfred murmured, his voice softening as a small smile tugged at his lips. "Quite a striking woman, if I may add. Or was it the way you scared her?"

Bruce's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. "She seemed familiar."

Alfred glanced at him, curiosity piqued. "Do you know her?"

Bruce shook his head, his voice distant, as though reaching back into a memory just out of grasp. "I asked Gordon about her. He said she's a pathologist. Medical examiner. Her name is Dr. Maryam Halimi." His gaze lingered on her face for a moment before he returned to the other screen, burying himself in the work that never seemed to end.

A heavy silence settled between them, the only sound the hum of machinery in the background. Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to weigh the gravity of the situation against Bruce's relentless pursuit of justice.

"Have a shower," Alfred finally said, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. "The accounting boys from Wayne Enterprises are coming for breakfast."

"Here—why?" Bruce asked, irritation flickering in his eyes, a reminder of the ever-present tension between his two worlds.

"Because I couldn’t get you to go there!" Alfred retorted, frustration seeping into his voice as he met Bruce's gaze, the unspoken concern between them thickening the air.

“I don’t have time for this,” Bruce muttered, his own patience wearing thin.

Alfred’s voice softened, a plea underlying his words. “It’s getting serious, Bruce. If this continues, it won’t be long before you’ve nothing left—”

“I don’t care about that. Any of that.” Bruce’s words were sharp, final, cutting through the space between them like a knife.

Alfred’s eyes flickered with a pain that he quickly masked. “You don’t care about your family’s legacy?”

“What I’m doing is my family’s legacy,” Bruce countered, his voice low, edged with a conviction that left no room for doubt. “And if I can’t change things here, if I can’t have an effect, then I don’t care what happens to me.”

Alfred swallowed hard, his throat tight with unshed emotions. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Bruce's eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a warning. “Alfred, stop.” The words hung in the air, sharp and final. Then, without missing a beat, he added, “You’re not my father.”

The statement was cold, a barrier thrown up between them, meant to shut down the conversation. The silence that followed was heavy, charged with the weight of everything unsaid. Alfred’s expression faltered, the faintest trace of hurt flashing across his face before he masked it with a resigned nod.

But the words lingered, echoing in the cavernous space of the Batcave, a reminder of the chasm that sometimes seemed too wide to bridge between them.

A thin, pained smile touched Alfred’s lips, barely masking the hurt behind his eyes. “I’m... well aware,” he replied quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that Bruce chose to ignore.

Alfred’s eyes lingered on Bruce for a moment longer, searching for something—some sign of acknowledgment, a crack in the armor. But Bruce remained impassive, his gaze already drifting back to the screens, to the work that consumed him.

Bruce rose from his seat, the movement deliberate and final, signaling the end of the conversation. Alfred watched him go, a deep pain etched in his expression, the kind that comes from years of unspoken worries and unresolved conflicts.

The distance between them felt wider than ever, a gulf that no words could bridge.

As Bruce disappeared into the elevator, Alfred turned back to the computer, his gaze lingering on the screens Bruce had been working on. His eyes scanned the thumbnails from the lens footage, pausing on one that showed the boy in the ninja costume with Maryam crouched in front of him, trying to comfort the little boy. His heart clenched at the sight; the tenderness in her gesture stood out sharply against the brutality surrounding them, a small but significant act of humanity in a city drowning in darkness.

His gaze then drifted to the printed cipher lying on the desk, the eerie symbols from the Halloween card glaring up at him. Above them, in Bruce's sharp handwriting, were the words: "HE LIES STILL."

Alfred frowned, the weight of those words pressing down on him like a heavy shroud. He knew the dangers Bruce was courting, the dark path he was walking. But seeing those words, seeing the connection between the message and Bruce’s relentless pursuit of justice, filled him with a deep sense of dread. It was as if the very essence of Bruce's mission was encapsulated in that ominous phrase—a mission that seemed to be consuming him more each day.

Alfred let out a weary sigh and closed his eyes, the heaviness of the situation settling over him. The fear of what it might do to Bruce weighed heavily on his heart.

────୨ৎ────

Maryam stirred awake, the faint sound of voices and the clattering of dishes drawing her from sleep. The room she found herself in was familiar, though now it bore the quiet solitude of the morning. This was the room she once shared with her younger sister Nora during their teenage years—a space that had seen countless late-night conversations, whispered secrets and shared dreams. It wasn’t vast, just big enough to comfortably house two people.

The furniture was modest, with a couple of beds positioned against the walls, each adorned with mismatched bedsheets that reflected the distinct personalities of the two sisters. A shared wooden dresser stood between them, and a small desk, once a place for late-night study sessions or scribbled notes passed between them, sat against the wall, bearing the marks of years gone by.

The room had a comforting, lived-in feel, with soft, warm colors that reflected the coziness of their aunt's home. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting gentle rays that danced on the patterned rug. A few framed pictures adorned the walls—memories of family gatherings and happier times.

Maryam rubbed her eyes, still groggy, and reached for her phone on the nightstand. The screen flashed to life, showing the time: 10:36 a.m. She sighed, stretching her arms above her head, and then rolled out of bed. Her face was slightly puffy from sleep, and her hair, which had been washed the night before, had settled into bouncy curls that framed her bare face.

Yawning, she reached for her red robe, slipping it on and tying it snugly at the waist. The soft fabric provided a small comfort against the coolness of the morning. Shielding her eyes from the sunlight that streamed through the window, she made her way to the door.

As she entered the hallway, the sounds of life became more pronounced—familiar voices mingled with the clinking of dishes, the occasional clatter of cutlery, and the unmistakable melody of Umm Kulthum filling the apartment.

The closer she got to the kitchen, the stronger the scent of coffee became, warm and inviting. It was a smell that always made her feel at home, no matter what else was happening in the world outside.

In the kitchen, her Aunt Meysa was on the phone, a foulard wrapped like a turban on her head and her usual apron draped over her jelaba. She was speaking loudly, gesturing with such vigor that it was as if the person on the other end could actually see her. The mix of broken English and Arabic in her voice was unmistakable. "No, no, we take no more kids tonight! Already full!" She rolled her eyes with dramatic flair, as if the person she was speaking to was as thick-headed as the fog that sometimes rolled in from Gotham Bay.

At the small table, Aunt Amina sat, the embodiment of calm despite the tumultuous life she’d endured. A cigarette was nestled between her fingers, a cup of coffee steaming in front of her. Her red hair was tied back, and her sharp yet warm brown eyes were fixated on the newspaper spread out before her.

Maryam paused, blinking in surprise. Amina never read the paper. The last time she’d seen her aunt with a newspaper, it had been crumpled up to light the fireplace.

Strange, she thought.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” teased Ali, her cousin, a few years younger and always up to something.

He was Aunt Meysa and Uncle Amir’s only son, a boxer who owned a gym in Gotham, both training and fighting in the ring. Maryam, unfazed by his usual teasing, just rolled her eyes and ignored him.

Rania, the fourth Halimi sister, was hunched over her laptop at the table. Her dirty blonde curls were pulled into a messy bun, held together by a pencil, and an earpiece was tucked into one ear. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, completely immersed in work for Bella Reál’s mayoral campaign. Yesterday's fiasco had thrown her into overdrive, and she barely noticed the world around her.

At the far end of the table sat Warda, the second-born daughter. An engineer at Wayne Enterprises currently on maternity leave, had one hand resting gently on her rounded belly. She was the only married sister out of the five, wed to a man named Ryan, a dentist. Despite the exhaustion that often accompanied pregnancy, Warda looked as radiant as ever. Her dark hair, straightened and perfectly styled, brushed her shoulders as she leaned in to spread marmalade on her toast. When Ali made his remark, she glanced up, a warm smile spreading across her lips. “Sbah al khir, sbah al noor yah Milou,” she greeted, using one of Maryam’s many nicknames.

Maryam, stretching again to shake off the morning sluggishness, walked over and planted a small kiss on Warda’s head. Warda returned the affection with a tender smile before taking a bite of her tartine. Maryam moved to the counter, tugging her robe tighter around her waist as she poured herself a cup of coffee—milk and three sugars, her usual. Meanwhile, Ali, ever the joker, threw a few playful jabs in her direction as she poured the coffee. Maryam, long accustomed to his antics, didn’t even flinch.

Noticing the empty chair at the table, Maryam smirked to herself. The youngest sister, Alma—affectionately known as Lulu—was still in bed.

Typical, she thought. Lulu, the baby of the family, was probably the only one who could sleep through the chaos.

Maryam turned her attention to Aunt Amina, who hadn’t lifted her eyes from the newspaper. “Since when do you read the news, hmm?” she asked, raising one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows as she sipped from her mug.

Amina took a slow drag from her cigarette, her gaze still fixed on the paper. “Why wouldn’t I? The mayor’s dead. That’s big news.”

Maryam chuckled, turning back to the counter. She put her mug down and opened a drawer, rummaging through it for her favorite biscuits. “I’ve never seen you read the paper,” she said, her tone light. Finally finding the biscuits, she tore the pack open with her teeth and turned back towards the table. “Actually, I’ve only ever seen you light fires with it.” She shot a sideways glance at Rania, who grinned without looking up from her laptop.

Amina sighed, finally folding the newspaper and meeting Maryam’s gaze. “Well, times change, and so do people, ya binti,” she said, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Even I need to keep up with what’s happening in this madhouse of a city.”

Warda, still chewing her tartine, chimed in with a soft, teasing voice. “Oh, Maryam knows. She was at the crime scene last night.”

Ali’s eyes widened as he snatched the newspaper from Amina’s hands, dodging her half-hearted attempt to pinch him. “You were?” he exclaimed, scanning the headlines.

Maryam rolled her eyes playfully, leaning back against the counter. “Thanks for the reminder, Warda. Like I needed it,” she quipped, though the corners of her mouth twitched into a small smile.

Ali, still clutching the newspaper, leaned forward with curiosity. “So, what did you see? Give me the juicy details.”

Maryam shot him a look, already feeling her patience thin. “Ali, how many times do I have to say it? I can’t tell you. It’s against the rules.” Her eyes widened to emphasize her words. “Besides, I woke up to Nadia hounding me for more info for her papers, and I still refused.”

Ali threw the newspaper at Maryam, but she dodged it with practiced ease. Meysa, still on the phone, caught the exchange and snapped at her son, “Ali, stop bothering your cousin! Go find something else to do.”

Ali grimaced and backed off. “Fine, fine. Just trying to get some interesting gossip.”

Maryam stuck her tongue out at him in mock defiance, earning a bemused look from Ali.

“So, what does everyone want for dinner?” Meysa asked, finally hanging up the phone. “I’m thinking Mloukhiah.”

Ali chimed in, “I don’t know, Dad’s off to work at the bay until tonight, even though I told him not to go. The weather’s awful.”

Meysa scoffed. “Your father is as stubborn as a mule. Out there, getting drenched while Gotham spirals into chaos. What’s next? A gang of criminals taking over Wayne Enterprises?”

Maryam chuckled, her mind still partially occupied with the crime scene. “It’s Gotham, Meysa. Anything’s possible.”

Rania, finally looking up from her laptop, wore a serious expression. “The conspiracy theories are spiraling out of control. This is going to be a nightmare for Bella’s campaign. Every scandal just adds more fuel to the fire.”

Maryam leaned back against the counter with a smirk. “Welcome to my world, Rania. Looks like you’re becoming Maryam 2.0.”

Rania narrowed her eyes at her sister but couldn’t hide a smile. “Oh, please. I’m still young. Don’t age me prematurely.”

“Too late,” Maryam shot back with a laugh. “You’re already showing signs of stress. Look at those bags under your eyes.”

Rania leaned in closer with a smirk. “Ha! You’re one to talk. Your workaholic tendencies could turn anyone into an early retiree.”

“Maybe,” Maryam conceded with a grin, “but at least I’m not glued to a laptop 24/7.”

“Not glued, just constantly engaged,” Rania retorted with a cheeky smile.

Warda, ever the peacemaker, chimed in with a gentle smile. “Let’s not turn this into a competition over who’s the bigger workaholic. We all have our issues.” She glanced down at her round belly and stroked it lovingly. “Some of us just have different priorities.”

Meysa, always the doting aunt, leaned over and added, “Eat, Warda. You’re not eating enough for a pregnant woman. I don’t want my grandchild to be hungry.”

Warda quipped back, “I’m fine, Aunt Meysa. Don’t worry, my husband is feeding me enough.”

At that moment, Alma, the youngest Halimi sister nicknamed Lulu, stumbled into the kitchen. Her auburn, almost red hair was a mess of curls, and her eyes were half-closed as if she’d just been dragged from a deep sleep. “What’s going on? Why’s everyone so loud?”

Warda greeted Lulu with a warm smile. “Welcome to the land of the living, Lulu.”

Lulu took the coffee cup gratefully and sat down at the table. “I’m still half-asleep. What’s everyone talking about?”

“The mayor’s dead,” Amina said matter-of-factly, lighting another cigarette.

Lulu’s eyes widened in shock, nearly spilling her coffee. “Wait, what? When did that happen?”

“Last night,” Maryam replied, watching her sister’s reaction with a concerned look. “It’s all over the news.”

Rania snorted and returned to her laptop. “Trust me, you’re not missing much. Just more chaos.”

Amina exhaled a stream of smoke, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Chaos or not, this city’s going to hell. We’ve got to be careful. All of us.”

Warda nodded, her hand resting on her belly as she considered Amina’s words. “Yeah, we do. But we’ve survived worse, right?”

The room fell into a contemplative silence. They had indeed survived worse.

Breaking the silence, Maryam asked Lulu, “Where were you, anyway?”

Lulu groaned, leaning back in her chair. “Revising my bar exam.” She avoided eye contact with Maryam, her unease palpable.

“Really?” Maryam asked suspiciously, crossing her arms and frowning.

“Yep.” At this point, everyone stopped what they were doing and focused on Lulu, sensing the tension in the air.

With all eyes on her, Lulu finally exploded. “Okay, fine! I did go to revise, but then I went on a date with a guy!”

Amina, crushing her cigarette in the ashtray, said, “See? Wasn’t that hard.”

“What guy?” Ali asked, his tone protective.

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to tell you his name. I’m not even sure if it’s serious,” Lulu said, trying to deflect.

“Well, is he hot at least?” Rania asked with a mischievous grin.

“What do you mean ‘hot’?” asked Aunt Meysa, looking puzzled. “Is he sick or something?”

“No, Meysa,” Aunt Amina clarified, “she’s asking if the boy is handsome.”

Maryam said nothing, but her gaze fixed on her sister, already forming suspicions about who the new guy might be. She hoped to god it wasn’t who she had in mind.

“Yaani, oh my god, it’s my life. I’m 24! Leave me alone!” Alma snapped suddenly, throwing her spoon onto the table and storming off to the bathroom.

Ali raised his arms in mock surrender. “I have to go open the ring anyway. Salam!” He left the kitchen, grabbing his energy drink on the way.

Seizing the opportunity to escape, Rania pushed back her chair, shutting her laptop with a decisive click. “Yeah, me too. I’m heading to the office. The team needs me.” She grabbed her bag and called after Ali, “Can you please drive me?”

“Be careful,” Warda called out, but the only response was the door slamming shut.

Maryam emptied her coffee into the sink, quickly washed her cup, and left the kitchen. Aunt Amina called after her, “Don’t make her even more mad!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Maryam responded with a wave, already heading out the door.

────୨ৎ────

Maryam leaned against the bathroom doorframe, crossing her arms and giving her sister a stern look as Lulu brushed her teeth. “Please tell me it’s not who I think it is.”

Lulu leaned over to spit out the toothpaste, avoiding Maryam’s gaze. “Oh god, it is,” Maryam muttered, beginning to pace anxiously. Her fingers pressed against her temples. “Vittorio Falcone. Of all people—”

Alma quickly placed her hand over Maryam’s mouth, her eyes wide with alarm. “Keep your voice down!”

Maryam lowered her hands, her frustration palpable. “Can you blame me, Alma?” she said, using her full name to emphasize her annoyance. “You promised me you wouldn’t talk to him—”

“He kept insisting, Maryam!” Lulu cut in, placing her hands on the counter. “Sending me flowers, gifts, waiting outside uni and work—”

“And I warned you!” Maryam’s voice rose. “I said you’d be tempted by him and his charms! Ever since that night at the restaurant, and the way he looked at you while you worked! He knows what he’s doing; he’s playing you—”

“Maryam, he’s not that bad when you get to know him—”

“He’s part of the fucking mafia, be for real right now!” Maryam exclaimed, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “And not just any member—he’s the oldest son of Carmine Falcone!” She lowered her voice further. “The literal heir to the Roman throne.”

Alma shook her head, dismissing Maryam’s concerns. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Lulu,” Maryam said, taking her sister’s shoulders, “please don’t be fooled by them. I know them, I’ve worked near them. They’re dangerous.”

“I talked with him,” Alma said, though Maryam continued to shake her head. “We’re just friends. He says he’s going to make everything legitimate when he takes the reins, which he already has and has started doing some changes!” she explained, her tone pleading.

“Doesn’t matter,” Maryam said firmly. “He’s still dangerous. And you’re not even Italian. Why would he want to go out with you? It’s just so strange.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Alma said suddenly, her tone serious. “I know who he is, but all I ask is for you to trust me on this.” She absentmindedly played with a strand of her red hair. “We’re not together; if anything, I just went on that date with him so he’d stop pestering me. It’s nothing serious, really.”

“Look, I know he’s handsome and charming or whatever, but it’s not like in the movies. Please—” Maryam started, but Alma cut her off.

“I know what I’m doing, Mar. I’m not a baby anymore, and you know that.” Alma began to gently push Maryam out of the bathroom. “Don’t worry about me. Really.” With that, she pushed the door shut and locked it, leaving Maryam outside, bewildered and even more worried.

She leaned against the wall, her shoulders slumped as she tried to steady her breathing. Maryam felt a pang of helplessness—she had always been the protector, the one who stepped in when things went wrong. But here, with Alma’s stubborn defiance, she was powerless. The thought of Vittorio Falcone, the heir to one of Gotham’s most feared crime families, being involved with her sister was unsettling.

Her pulse quickened as she imagined the worst-case scenarios: Alma being used, manipulated, or worse. The danger was all too real, and Maryam’s protective instincts flared up with a fierce intensity. She remembered her own experiences with the criminal underworld, the threats and violence she had witnessed, that she had endured.

It was a world that left scars—both physical and emotional—and she couldn’t bear the thought of her sister being dragged into it.

Maryam’s fingers gripped the edge of the door poignet, her knuckles white with tension. She fought to push down the rising wave of anger and fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She understood Alma’s need for independence and the desire to make her own choices, but the stakes were too high. Maryam had always been the voice of caution, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this time, she had failed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Alma’s footsteps retreating on the other side of the door. Maryam took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. The cacophony of the house—the clinking of dishes, the distant chatter—seemed to amplify her sense of isolation. Her family was moving on with their day, while she remained stuck in this moment of worry and frustration.

Maryam’s heart ached with the weight of her responsibility. She knew she had to find a way to protect Alma without pushing her further away. But for now, she felt powerless, her attempts to safeguard her sister thwarted by the very person she was trying to protect.

With a sigh, Maryam pushed away from the wall and decided to leave the bathroom door.

She needed to refocus, to address the rest of her day, and maybe—just maybe—find another way to keep her sister safe without losing her.

Maryam trudged back into the kitchen, her mood heavy with the weight of the earlier confrontation.

Warda was slowly rising from her chair, preparing to leave. “I have to go back to the house. I promised Ryan we’d go shopping for the baby. He took the day off just for me,” she said, leaning in to kiss her aunts goodbye. She then turned to Maryam with a knowing look. “Don’t be too hard on her,” she advised softly before grabbing her coat and leaving, her floral perfume lingering in the air.

Aunt Amina, still sifting through the pile of envelopes, glanced up. “Looks like the Mayor’s wife invited us to the funeral,” she said, holding up a sleek black envelope.

“Oh yes!” Meysa exclaimed, recalling the phone call. “She phoned me this morning and said she wanted us to come.”

Maryam nodded, tying her hair up with a practiced motion, her mind still churning from the argument with Alma. “I’ll be here,” she said, her tone clipped. “But I’ve got work. I’m heading back to my apartment, and then I’m off to meet Gordon for lunch.”

Aunt Amina gave her a once-over, her keen eyes noticing the tension in Maryam’s posture. “Don’t work yourself up too much,” she advised, her voice carrying a mix of concern and firmness.

“Don’t worry,” Maryam replied, trying to sound reassuring. But her mind was elsewhere, already dwelling on the tasks ahead. With that, she turned and made her way to the room where she had slept, intending to change into something more suitable for the day’s events.

────୨ৎ────

After arriving at her apartment just outside the Narrows, Maryam quickly changed out of the clothes she had worn the previous day, opting for something more suitable. She selected a sharp outfit, something that matched her professional demeanor and the gravity of her work.

Heading to the bathroom, she swiftly straightened her hair with an iron, though she didn’t leave it down. Instead, she went for her usual French chignon updo, securing it neatly at the nape of her neck. With practiced ease, she reached for her makeup bag and began her routine: a touch of concealer to brighten her eyes, bronzer to accentuate her tan skin, a quick brush over her eyebrows, a flick of mascara on her lashes, a hint of blush, and finally, her signature red lipstick, which added a bold pop of color to her plump lips.

A spritz of her usual oud perfume added the final touch as she glanced at the time on her phone. Satisfied with her appearance, she slipped on her black high-heeled boots, her long black coat that she secured with the ceinture around her waist, grabbed the dossier she had prepared—complete with the photos and notes from the crime scene—along with her black bag. After ensuring her keys, phone, and wallet were inside, she opened the door of her apartment and stepped out of her apartment.

As Maryam stepped out into the hallway, the familiar sounds of her building greeted her. The muffled cry of a baby echoed from one of the nearby apartments, and somewhere down the corridor, a couple's argument punctuated the otherwise quiet morning. She sighed, tightening her grip on her bag. This was Gotham, after all—a city where peace was always fleeting.

With a quick glance back to ensure her door was securely locked, he began her walk towards the stairwell. The weight of the dossier in her hand was a reminder of the seriousness of her work, pulling her thoughts back to the task at hand. The voices behind her faded as she descended the stairs, the familiar creaks and groans of the old building, along with the click of her high heels, accompanied her steps.

Despite the less-than-ideal living conditions and the constant noise, this place had become a part of her, just like Gotham itself. She thought about her aunts’ constant urging to leave the city, to find a better life somewhere like Metropolis or Central City. They couldn’t understand why she chose to stay, why she remained in a city that seemed to chew people up and spit them out.

But Maryam knew. Gotham was in her blood. It was a city that had shaped her, toughened her, and no matter how dark it got, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She often joked that if she worked anywhere else, she'd probably die of boredom. Here, every day was a new challenge, a new puzzle to solve, and as much as the chaos drained her, it also fueled her.

Her salary might not reflect the work she put in—the long hours, the emotional toll—but money wasn’t what drove her. It was the people, the ones who needed her, and the small victories that kept her going. Each time she uncovered the truth behind a death or brought a criminal one step closer to justice, she felt a sense of purpose that was worth more than any paycheck.

As she reached the ground floor and pushed open the heavy door leading outside, the cold air hit her face, sharp and bracing. She squared her shoulders, letting the door swing shut behind her as she made her way to the subway.

────୨ৎ────

The diner was a relic from a bygone era, its faded charm unmistakable despite the wear and tear. The once-vibrant red booths had lost their luster, now marred by cracks and scuffs. The linoleum floor, a worn pattern of black and white squares, squeaked with every step. Old-fashioned pendant lights cast a soft, yellowish glow over the space, creating an ambiance that was both cozy and antiquated. The walls were adorned with vintage photographs and a few outdated advertisements, giving the place an air of nostalgia. A jukebox in the corner remained dormant, its music silenced by the passing years.

Inside, a handful of patrons sat scattered across the booths and tables—some reading newspapers, others engaged in quiet conversations. The air was filled with the aroma of coffee and the faint scent of cleaning products, a mix that added to the diner’s homey but slightly worn-out atmosphere.

Maryam spotted Gordon seated in a booth near the window, absently stirring a coffee. He looked up as she approached, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Maryam, right on time,” he greeted, standing up to shake her cheek. “I’ve already ordered your usual—Diabolo mint.”

Maryam returned his smile and slid into the booth across from him, her black high-heeled boots clicking on the floor as she settled in. “Thanks, Jim. My aunt sent over some cakes for Barbara,” she said, handing him a small box. “She thought Barbara might enjoy them.”

Gordon’s smile widened as he accepted the box. “I’m sure she will. She’s always been a fan of your aunt’s baking.”

Maryam nodded, pulling out the dossier from her bag and placing it on the table, her expression serious. “I’ve compiled everything from the crime scene—photos, notes, and the autopsy details,” she said. “There’s a lot to go through, but I’ve highlighted the key points.”

She leaned in slightly, her voice steady. “The pattern suggests a personal motive. I’m leaning towards someone with a clear objective, possibly targeting specific individuals.”

Gordon listened intently, his brow furrowed in thought. “And you think this might be just the beginning?”

Maryam’s gaze was unwavering. “Yes, I’m afraid so. The killer seems to have a goal in mind, and if my analysis is correct, this could be part of a larger plan.”

Gordon nodded thoughtfully. “Now that you're suggesting it, I’ve been hearing some unsettling whispers about potential future targets.” He took a sip of his coffee, the weight of the situation evident in his tone. “Anything else?”

Maryam sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Yes, my aunts and I were invited to the mayor’s funeral. I think it’s important to be there, considering everything.”

As she spoke, the TV mounted on the diner’s wall flashed news coverage of the murder, catching both their attention for a brief moment.

Gordon glanced at the screen, then back at Maryam. “It seems the night of the murder is still making headlines.”

Maryam huffed, a hint of frustration in her voice. “Well, the Mayor’s dead—it’s kind of a big thing.” She took a sip of her Diabolo mint before adding, “It’s all over social media. My sister Rania, you know her—dark blonde hair,” she gestured to her own hair, “she works comms and public affairs for Bella Real’s campaign.”

Gordon hummed in acknowledgment. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, it’s been hell since yesterday night,” Maryam said, her tone weary.

Gordon nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. “Man, tell me about it. The whole city’s on edge.”

They shared a moment of silence, the gravity of the situation settling in. The TV continued its coverage, but their focus remained on the task ahead.

“Anyways, anything new from the Bat about the case?” Maryam asked, a note of hope in her voice as she tried to pry any information from Gordon.

Gordon chuckled softly, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Well, you certainly made quite an impression on him, that’s for sure—”

Maryam cut him off, blushing slightly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Gordon shrugged, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he adjusted his glasses. “But seriously, no, I haven’t heard anything from him since last night.”

Maryam mumbled under her breath, “Probably rotting in his cave.”

Before Gordon could respond, his phone rang, the screen displaying an unknown number. He answered it with a hint of skepticism, holding the phone to his ear as he listened intently.

Maryam took a sip of her Diabolo mint, waiting patiently for the call to end.

After a few minutes, Gordon hung up and looked at Maryam, a hint of intrigue in his expression. “That was him.”

Maryam’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Oh, really?”

Gordon nodded. “Yeah. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll make sure to keep you informed.”

“Of course, don’t hesitate to call,” Maryam replied, watching as he stood up and placed some money on the table.

Gordon offered her a nod. “Take care, Maryam. I’ll see you around.”

She watched him leave the diner, heading toward his car, the weight of the situation lingering in the air as she finished her drink.

Halimi Family

Parents :

Idris Halimi (the father, deceased)

Zorana Ipatieva (the mother, deceased)

The sisters :

Maryam Halimi (the oldest) — 30, doctor, medical examiner.

Warda Halimi (second born) — 28, Engineer at Wayne Enterprises.

Nadia Halimi (third born) — 26, Journalist

Rania Halimi (fourth) — 25, Comms and public affairs for Bella Real Campaign.

Alma Halimi (youngest) — 24, Law student

Paternal aunts :

Meysa (Halimi) Saeed, babysitting

Amina Halimi, nurse

Paternal Uncle :

Amir Saeed (husband of Meysa), fisherman

Paternal Cousin :

Ali Saeed (son of Amir and Meysa), owner of a Boxing Ring in Gotham.

43 notes · View notes

justmymindandstuff · 7 months

Text

Right in front of you - Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

Summary: Natasha's new boyfriend doesn't like the fact that she and her ex Bucky are still good friends. So Natasha lies and drags you into a fake relationship with your best friend. What could possibly go wrong?

words: 16.189

warngins: drinking, make- out, a bit angst?, talk about suicide (briefly, not explicitly), swearing / language// ( I think thats all, correct me if I am wrong)

A/N: fake dating trope, Miscommunication, fluff, best friends to lovers// Avengers as a chaotic group of friends// AU// English is not my first language// no beta// Gif not mine// AO3.

Relationships: Bucky x Y/N // Natasha x Bucky (previously; mention)// Natasha x Bruce (previously; mention)// Natasha x Y/N (platonic) // Tony Stark x Y/N (platonic)

I had this in my drafts since 2022, but totally forget about it. Last weekend I rewatch tfatws (Yes, the whole season I have no self-control) and god sebastian stand is one of the most handsome man alive. I revised this draft and added about 10K words. This wasn't originally planned. Sooo anyways have fun with this :) Love to all of you ❤️.

You sit on Natasha´s comfortable couch and take a sip of your coffee. Your best friend called you in the morning and asks for this catch up and said she had a level 9 Problem. So you have been sitting here for almost 2 hours. You and Nat hand already exchanged all the important news form the last few weeks, but Natasha hadn´t yet said whats her level 9 problem is. "So why did you want to talk with me so badly Nat? We have talked about everything now." you say.

Natasha sights."I messed up."

"What happend?" you ask now worried.

"It is about Rick."

Her new boyfriend. He´s a pretty nice guy, from what Nat said. But you haven´t meet him yet. Natasha dates him for 3 month now.

"What did you do?" you asks. Since are when you have to pull every word out of her nose? Nat hesitates for a moment and takes a sip from her coffee.

"Okay. Please listen to me. I know I messed up but I have a plan. And for this plan I need your help."

"I will listen."

"So, Rick and I, we talked about our friends last week and you know we had already talked about our exes. And now he knows that I am still firends with Bucky. But Rick doesn´t think it is cool that I am still friends with him." she stopps and you look confused. You don´t see a Level 9 Problem with this. Natascha and Bucky were together for a few months and that was almost 3 years ago. So why is it a problem?"Y/N I am so sorry. It was a dump idear but it was the frist thing that comes to my mind. And I was pressed for time."

"Natasha! What did you do?" you ask again, now a bit annoyed.

"I told Rick you and Bucky are together."

"You did what?" you ask shocked and a little angry. Is she serious?

"I am so sorry. But besides Bucky, you are the only single in our group. And after that Rick was fine with Bucky as my friend."

"Natasha! What a stupid idear. And what´s your plan now? We all meet Rick this weekend."

"I know, I know. I already texted Bucky, but he is still at work, he says he will call me later."

"And what do you want me to do?"

"Lie for me? Please Y/N." she looks desperately at you. As if you could refuse her something when she looked at you like that. You shigh and in her look you can see that she knows she won.

"Fine. If Bucky is okay with it, I will pretend to be his girlfriend. But Nat, for how long do you think we can lie to him?"

"Not for long, just a few weeks. And than you and Bucky can pretend that you have broken up and remain friends. So Rick can see that Bucky can be just friends with his ex- girlfriends and everything will be fine." She smiles and you sigh again. What could go wrong? Except from everything.

"Fine! But I don´t like this plan."

"I know. And I am sorry."

"Its okay."

You enter your apartment and close the door behind you. You are not sure if Natashas plan will work. But you are her friend, so you will help her, no matter what. Your phone rings, you fummel it out of your Pocket. Bucky. You answer the call.

"Hey Bucks what up?"

Bucky came as Natashas Boyfriend in your friendgroup, but after a few weeks he was friends with all of you, and after he and Nat broke up, they reminds friends and Bucky stays with your group. You are glade he did, you really like him. In the last years, he became your best friend. He even integrated Steve and Peggy into your circle of friends.

"Hey Y/N. How are you? Have you talked with Nat?"

"I´m fine. Yes I have. What do you think about her plan?"

"It´s stupid." he laughs. "But I said I will go with it, if its okay with you."

"I said I will help her."

"Good. Just wanted to make sure you are okay with it."

"If it helps her, of course I'll do it."

"You are a good friend. Then we will see us on Friday. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Why?" you asks.

"Because we have to preatend we are a coupel." he says as if it were logical. And as if that were normal.

"Right." you start laughing. "It will never work."

"No probally not. But lets give our best to not mess it up for Nat."

"We can try. So you pick me up at 8?"

"I will be at your place."

"Thank you Bucky. See you at Friday."

"See you Friday Doll."

You hate this nickname, but he never listened to you when you said he should stop calling you that. After two years you gave up.

Friday is coming sooner than you thought. You've been stressed all week about your work, next week you have to present your new project, but you're still missing some figures from the last quarter, of course the department is lagging behind. So you had to work overtime. On the way home, your mother called you. Your grandma had another argument with her neighbors. Probably something about the garden fence. You couldn't care less. The argument has been going on for years, but your grandma is just stubborn. And she's driving your mother crazy. It took you hours to calm her down and when you finally hang up it's almost seven o'clock. And you haven't eaten anything since your lunch salad. Damn. You're going to your favorite bar tonight, but you can't go out on an empty stomach. You can't tolerate alcohol anyway, and on an empty stomach the evening would probably end over the toilet bowl before midnight. You open your fridge and sigh. Of course you forgot to go grocery shopping. You reach for your phone and dial Bucky’s number.

"Hello Doll." he answers in a good mood. "Everythin alright?

"Yes. Can you come a bit earlier and bring something to eat on the way? I forgot to shop grocerys and haven't eaten anything properly yet."

"Sure I'll do it. We don't want to repeat St. Patrick." he laughs. You grimace at the memory of the evening in which you dumped the contents of your stomach into the Hudson. "Not funny Bucks."

"Maybe not for you. I had a lot of fun making sure you didn't take an involuntary swim and end up as a corpse in the water." you hear him laugh through the phone and roll your eyes. You would like to respond with an embarrassing story from Bucky, but the man can drink like no one else. Sometimes you think he's immune to alcohol. “Is chinese okay?”

"Yes perfect. Please bring.."

"Spring rolls. Yes, I know, doll."

“Lifesaver I Venmo you the money.”

"Absolutely no way!"

"Bucky." you start, you hate it when he invites you out, but Bucky throws his money around like it's nothing. Because it's probably nothing for him. Bucky makes a lot of money with his firm.

"Don't argue. I'm your boyfriend, remember." he laughs. Oh yeah, Natasha's stupid plan.

"I actually forgot." you laugh now.

"My heart just broke." You roll your eyes, but then laugh. As if any woman could ever break James Barnes' heart.

"I'm on my way now, I'll be there quarter past." Your gaze goes to the clock. You've got half an hour, damn it.

"Okay, I still have to get ready. I will be quick."

"See you soon."

"See you soon." You hang up, quickly put your cell phone on the charging cable and sprint into the shower. You also have to wash your hair, you're really not on schedule this week. Bucky only needs 20 minutes, so you open the door for him still in a towel and with your hair half-dried. At least your Make Up is already done.

"What a sight." he laughs and lets his gaze slide over your barely covered body. You feel yourself blushing, even if there's no reason for it. Bucky has already seen you in your underwear, so the towel covers more.

"Charming." You say and let him into your apartment. He throws his keys and wallet into the small bowl next to your door and puts the take away bag on the kitchen counter.

"You know me. Go get ready, we don´t have much time. Since when have you been so late?"

You love punctuality. You think it's rude and disrespectful to make people wait for you, but this week seems to be cursed. You go back to the bedroom to get dressed.

"I've been behind time all week. Work is totally exhausting me. I have to present next week but of course nothing works out the way I want it to." You call loudly from your bedroom so Bucky can hear you as you rummage through your clothes. Of course you had also forgotten to check with Wanda and Natascha what exactly the dress code was for the evening. "Do you know what Nat or Wanda wear?"

"Of course not?"

"Crap."

"You look good in anything, so just wear somthing." he calls from the living room.

"Liar"

"Never Doll."

You pull your black dress out of your closet. It's just the right length to not be slutty. Quickly, but carefully so you not smear your make-up, you slip into the dress. You let your hair fall loosely over your shoulder, but quickly blow-dry it so that you don't look like you've plugged into a socket. You take a quick look at yourself in the mirror, yes, that would work. "How cold is it ?"

"It's summer, so not at all."

"So no tights?"

"No, no tights. Another question I've never asked myself before."

"You're a man, pants and shirt and you're dressed for any occasion." you come out of your bedroom. Bucky is sitting in your kitchen, he has put the food on a plate and has put cutlery out for you and a glass of water next to it. "You are my hero." You say, plopping down in the seat across from him.

"I know." You look at the clock, you actually have to leave in five minutes so as not to be late. You're narrowing your eyes, damn it.

"Now take a deep breath, relax and eat. Then we'll be a little late, it's not the end of the world. Besides, it's not just us, Vision, Wanda, Tony and Rick are there. Nat won´t be alone."

"Steve isn't coming?"

"Nope, Peggy isn't feeling well." You start eating.

"Still not?" you ask worriedly Peggy hasn't been feeling well for a few weeks, hopefully it's nothing more serious. When you spoke to her on the phone last week she sounded tired and exhausted. Bucky grabs one of your spring rolls and dips it in the sauce, a mischievous smile appearing on his face. "What is?" you ask confused.

"I'm not actually allowed to tell you this." You're immediately curious and lean a little further forward in your chair.

"Tell me."

"But swear you won't tell anyone."

"I swear."

"She is pregnant." Your mouth falls open, you expected everything but not this.

“I didn’t know they were trying.” Steve and Peggy have been together since high school, but neither of them have talked about having children until now.

"They didn't, it was an accident but they wanted to keep it." Steve and Peggy as parents? Funnily enough, you can imagine it. "Steve has been through an emotional rollercoaster in the last few weeks, you can't imagine it Y/N." Bucky laughs.

"And he didn't say anything to anyone?"

"No, only I know and now you. So quiet."

"I promise not to say a word."

"Good. Different topic." Suddenly he becomes serious and Bucky's look almost makes your food stick in your throat. "Nat's plan."

"What about it?"

"We should discuss boundaries."

“Boundaries?” you ask confused. What does he mean now? You actually thought you would go to the bar, introduce yourself as boyfriend and girlfriend and sit next to each other. Why do you need boundaries?

"Well, we want Rick to believe us and I think we should kiss for that. Of course only if it's okay with you." It would be a lie if you never imagined kissing Bucky. After all, he's terribly good-looking, charming, friendly, a perfect gentleman. And even if you're embarrassed and would never admit it one night or two when you were alone, Bucky as a fantasy has served you well. But he is also your best friend, your savior in times of need and your best friend's ex. Fantasy is one thing, but in reality?

"Kissing is okay with me." you say. "It just might get weird."

"Why weird?"

"I don't usually kiss my best friends. You're like a brother to me." A shadow crosses Bucky's blue eyes, but he's smiling.

"If you find the thought of kissing me disgusting..."

"I did not say that!" you say quickly. No woman on this planet would associate the idea of kissing James Bucky Barnes with the word disgusting. You are sure of that! "I just think it's weird. The others are there too." you blush at the thought of kissing Bucky in front of all your friends. What have you gotten yourself into? And all because of Nat.

“Do you want to practice?” he asks and a mischievous grin appears on his face.

"I know how to kiss."

"I'm sure you're very good at kissing. I'm just saying so our first kiss isn't in front of everyone else." That sounds like such a stupid idea that it makes oddly enough sense.

"Then let's practice." You say, putting your fork down.

"Are you ready?" he points to your plate. There's still a little food left, but you're full and it should protect you from an alcohol escapade.

"Yes." Bucky takes your plate and cutlery, stands up and puts everything in the sink. Then he leans against your kitchen counter. You sigh and stand up too. You could say you're doing all this just for Natasha, but somehow the thought of kissing Bucky makes you nervous, but in a pleasant way. You walk over to him and stop right in front of Bucky. He's a bit taller than you, so you lean your head back slightly to look him in the eyes.

"Y/N. If you don't want that, we can just cancel it. Nat would understand." He says, looking you in the eyes.

"Nonsense. It's not that bad."

"Thanks."

"Thats not what I meant."

"I know, I'm just messing with you." he grins at you. Then his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Bucky lifts his hand and places it carefully on your cheek. Then he leans forward. His lips touch yours and you freeze for a second. But then you move your lips against his, your hand automatically laying on his chest. Bucky’s hand moves from your cheek to your neck and he pulls you closer to him. The next moment his tongue slides into your mouth and you press yourself closer to his muscular body. But then you flinch. What are you doing here? You open your eyes and see it straight into Bucky’s. His gaze sweeps over your face as if he’s searching for something. "Too much?"

"No. I was just surprised." you feel your heart thundering in your chest. You feel strange, but not bad. And it wasn't as uncomfortable or weird as you thought. It was nice.

"And weird?"

"Not for me."

"For me either. You are a good kisser."

You hit him on the chest "Jerk."

Bucky laughs. "Come on now. We're late." he then says. You quickly grab your coat, throw your cell phone and wallet into your bag and slip on your high heels. "But I won't carry you home later if your feet hurt." Bucky says as he packs up his things again.

"You're taking me home?"

"Of course. I'm the perfect boyfriend." You roll your eyes. Why does he actually enjoy this lie so much?

"Come now perfect boyfriend." You say, pushing him out of your apartment and closing the door behind you.

Even though you hurry, you're almost 30 minutes late when you get to the front door of the bar. From outside you see your friends already sitting at one of the tables. "Ready for our big show?" Bucky asks you.

"It's a good thing I was at the Theater Club."

"I did not know that." he says surprised.

"Why sould you?" Bucky shrugs. Then he opens the door and gestures for you to go ahead. "Gentleman."

"Always." You enter and as you walk through the half-full bar to the table where your friends are already sitting, Bucky place his hand on the small of your back. When you get to the table you can’t help but smile. You hadn't seen Wanda for at least 2 weeks, Vision even longer than that and apart from a phone call last weekend, you've barely had any contact with Tony. It's unusual for your friend group, but at the moment you're all kind of busy doing something. That's how it is when you grow up.

"Hey guys." you say happily. "I'm so sorry we're late."

"That was 100% my fault." Bucky says.

"Our two lovebirds." Tony says and winks. You ignore him and turn to the only strange face at the table.

"And you must be Rick?"

"Yes, hello, Nice to meet you." he holds out his hand to you.

“I’m Y/N.” You say, shaking his hand. "That's my boyfriend." That sounds strange.

"James." Bucky shakes Rick's hand too, but you can tell by the way his muscles tense that he's shaking it unnecessarily hard, despite his smile. Wanda slides to the side so you and Bucky can sit on the bench next to her. Vision looks between you and Bucky, confused.

"Did I miss som...."

“Rick, I want something to drink, then we can bring something for Bucky and Y/N too.” Natasha says quickly and practically pushes Rick off the bench. You hear the panic in her voice.

“Bring something for me too.” says Tony, downing his half-full beer in just a few sips and then fumbling his credit card with grand gestures out of his pocket to give it to Natasha. Yeah, not strange at all or anything. Rick goes to the bar and before Natascha follows him she gives Wanda a quick, slightly angry look.

"Sorry." she whispers, Natasha disappears after Rick. "I totally forgot to tell you." She then says to Vision. "Bucky and Y/N act like they're together. Because Rick doesn't like the idea of Nat and Bucky being together."

"What?" Vision looks between all of you, confused.

Tony starts laughing. "If you say it out loud it sounds even stupider."

"No shit Sherlock." you say.

"Bucky and Natasha used to date?" Oh poor Vision, sometimes you forget that he hasn't known you that long and that sometimes Wanda doesn't think about all the details. Not because she means anything bad, but because she is simply forgetful.

"Long before your time." Tony says in response to Vision's question

"Three years ago, but only briefly."Bucky says now.

"Then what's Rick's problem?"

"We do not know." you say. "But that's Natascha's thing, she asked us to do it and we're playing along."

“Red flag nonetheless.” says Wanda. Tony nods.

"Please! This is Natasha's first relationship since Bruce. We're meeting Rick for the first time today so please guys be nice. And stop your prejudices and red flags. We don't really know him." You're briefly afraid that the mood will change because you mentioned Bruce, but Tony just rolls his eyes and then agrees with you

"You're right. And we're always nice."

"That's a lie." Wanda says and you join in her laughter. A moment later, Nat and Rick come back to the table. A mojito is placed in front of you and you grin at your best friend.

"Thanks."

"Thank Tony, that was on his card."

"You make me poor."

"You're a billionaire heir." Bucky interjects and takes the beer from Natasha.

"Really?" Rick asks as he sits back down in his seat.

"Ever heard of Stark Industries?"

"The weapons company?" Tony rolls his eyes.

"Former weapons company." and you can tell from his look that Rick has already been written off by him. You kick him under the table. "Be nice." You whisper, gladly that Rick is talking to Vison. Tony rolls his eyes, but then clinks his new beer with everyone, including Rick. You all catch up on what's going on. Your conversation briefly turns to Peggy and her mysterious illness.

"She works in a kindergarten, where you're always catching something." you say quickly. Bucky grins sideways at you. You're already excited to see how your friends will react to Steve and Peggy's baby news. Rick is just talking about his work when you suddenly feel Bucky's hand on your thigh and you flinch.

He leans in slightly and whispers in your ear. "Relax, you're ruining our show." You smile and act like he said something funny, and when he kisses your cheek you don't flinch.

“Y/N, when is your presentation?” Wanda asks, after she is done talking about her and Visons weekendtrip to Jersey.

"Tuesday and Wednesday I'll probably get fired."

"So bad?" Nat asks worriedly.

"No, not quite that bad, but it sucks."

"You're welcome to start at my company on Thursday." says Tony. "I still need a new assistant."

"The worst three years of my life." Natasha says and then lowers her voice to sound more like Tony. "Romanoff cancel my meeting tomorrow I have a hangover. Romanoff I don't want to eat with Musk. Romanoff where is my watch?" everyone except Tony laughs.

"Pepper never complained."

"You were in love with her the whole time, of course you were nicer."

"Exactly." Natasha supports your point.

"You worked for Tony?" Rick asks confused. "I thought you were a lawyer."

"Yes, before I even went to university. And I'm not really a lawyer yet. I'm still at university. Speaking of which, Y/N, you won't believe who called the office." Nat works alongside university in a renowned law firm. Bucky got her the job.

"Who?" you ask confused.

"Your granny."

"No!" Embarrassed, you hide your head between your arms on the table. Bucky laughs next to you and strokes your hair, his warm hand touching the skin on your shoulder and strangely, you get goosebumps at the feather-light touch. You quickly sit up again and his hand goes over your back and rests on your thigh again. "What did she want?" you ask, reaching for your second mojito.

"Sue her neighbor again."

"God I really need to call her tomorrow."

"I already explained to her that that doesn't work." Nat says.

"I'm sorry she's annoying you so much."

"Oh, it's not that annoying. Plus, she sends me Christmas cookies every year, so I'm happy to put up with a little complaining."

The evening continues and at some point it's Bucky and you's turn to get new drinks for everyone. As you walk through the crowded bar you notice the alcohol in your veins. When you get to the bar, you lean against the counter, Bucky puts an arm around you. It's not unusual for him to touch you or hug you, but today he's somehow more affectionate than usual. Not that you mind. You don't know that about him at all, not even with his girlfriends that he has every now and then for a few weeks.

"You're putting on a good show." You say after he orders another round of cocktails and tequila for you. After this you better drink some water.

"Do you think he believes us?"

"Why shouldn't he?"

"I don't know, he looks at me strangely all the time."

"You're also his girlfriend's ex."

"That was three years ago." he rolls his eyes.

"I know, but toxic masculinity. And the way you shook his hand wasn't exactly nice either."

Bucky grins. "I couldn't help it." then he rolls his eyes. "He's looking at us."

"Seriously?" you want to turn around to look, but Bucky quickly puts his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

"Not so obvious." You giggle at your own stupidity.

"Is he still watching?"

"Yes. Ready for a show?" Before you can ask what he means, he leans forward and his lips are already on yours. You're briefly surprised, but then you return the kiss. His hand moves to your back, resting just a little above your ass as he presses you against him. Maybe it's the alcohol, or the fact that you want to put on a good show for Nat, or the fact that Bucky is really good at kissing, but this time it's you who slip your tongue into his mouth. Bucky grins and your tongues start a little battle that he wins. Your arms fold behind his neck and you press your body closer to him. You feel your heart beating a little faster, probably because of the alcohol and because you're making out in the middle of a crowded bar. You've never done that before. Bucky pushes himself towards you, so you have to back away slightly and now your back is pressed against the bar, but it's not uncomfortable. His hand moves a little lower and is now actually on your butt. His body is completely pressed against yours and your nails are carefully scratching his neck. Your lips move perfectly against each other. He's really damn good at kissing. You break away from each other, breathless. Bucky rests his forehead against yours. "That was hot." You laugh briefly.

“Is he still looking?” Bucky turns his head slightly to the side and his gaze goes over to your table.

"No."

"Good." Nevertheless, neither of you makes any effort to put distance between you. Your shoes put you almost at eye level with him. Bucky grins and then kisses you again, your lips only touching for a brief moment, but this kiss somehow feels much more intimate than your previous make-out session. A smile creeps onto your lips without you being able to prevent it. Definitely due to the alcohol. The bartender brings you your drinks and the tequila shots with lemon and salt on a tablet. Bucky takes the drinks and you take the shots, then you go back to your table.

"And I thought you'd disappear home." Tony greets you with a grin.

"You are just jealous." you say.

"He's not jealous, he's horny. How long has Pepper been with her parents in Florida? 1 week or was it 2?" Bucky says. Tony grimaces.

“18 days,” he then answers.

"Ohh you're counting the days you little puppy."

"Shut up Romanoff and drink more." Tony reaches for the shot glasses and puts one in front of everyone. You clink glasses, lick the salt from your hands and then drink the tequilla. You quickly bite into the lemon and are happy that the tequilla taste is gone.

"The toilets are where?" Rick asks, Natasha had probably told him that you were here often.

"At the bar on the right and down the stairs." Vision replies. Rick nods, stands up and heads in that direction.

Your friends' eyes are immediately on you.

“What was that?” asks Wanda.

“Even I almost believed you.”

“Why do you look so good while making out?” says Tony. Bucky kicks him under the table. "That was a compliment."

“We wanted to be convincing.” you answer, blushing and taking a sip from your mojito. The fact that Bucky's hand is on your bare thigh again and his fingers are drawing small circles doesn't really help to remove the blush from your cheeks.

"You were convincing."

"A little too convincing." Tony wiggles his eyebrows. "

"Where is your fantasy goes now hm?." says Vision. Nat and you grimace.

"I dont want to know it."

"Like I'm some disgusting stalker or something. Your new boyfriend was staring like a creep."

"That's not true." Wanda defends Rick, but you can tell by the look in her eyes that she agrees with Tony.

"He's just worried about Bucky. Because we used to be together. And you're not really nice to him either."

"I hardly spoke to him."

"Exactly. And what was that about James?"

"That's my name?"

"No one calls you that."

"I've known the guy for less than two hours and you came to me and said he thinks I'm shit. Do you really think I'm acting out here like I am best friends with him." The two bitch at each other. You reach for Bucky’s hand to calm him down a bit.

"I didn't say he thinks you're shit. Just our friendship."

Bucky presses his lips together and tilts his head slightly. "That's a bad move on his part."

"He's just insecure."

"It's not my problem if he has complexes." then Bucky bites his lip and you know he almost said something mean.

"It's enough." Vision chimes in. "We're here to get to know him. And so far he's quite nice. A good guy Nat." he says in his diplomatic voice. Does he also talk to his students like that?

"Thank you Vis. Also for being so open with him." her gaze goes back to Bucky.

"I've said enough."

"He comes back. Laughs and acts like I said something funny."

"Everything you say is hilarious Tony."

“I love you too Y/N.”

The evening continues with endless conversations and bad jokes. It doesn't even take 10 minutes and Bucky and Nat have forgotten their little bickering. You drink another shot with the others, but when Tony orders the third round you are out and prefer to continue drinking your cocktail. Bucky doesn't leave your side the whole evening, every now and then he presses a kiss on your lips or cheek and when you lean against his shoulder he immediately puts his arm around you and strokes your shoulder with his fingertips. Why is he so good at playing this fake relationship? But actually it doesn't matter. It feels good somehow. You miss it sometimes, the light touches, brief glances and secret whispers. But after your last relationship ended in heartbreak a little over a year ago, you're staying away from men. Wanda and Vision are the first to say goodbye and after a while Tony also starts to yawn now and then. Nat and Rick have separated themselves from you a bit and are making out in the corner, which makes Bucky roll his eyes.

"I'm leaving before those two eat each other over there." says Tony. You giggle silly. Unfortunately, you completely forgot that you actually wanted to drink water and the alcohol went to your head.

"We should going home too." Bucky then says.

"Hey. Nat, Rick." The two break away from their kiss and look at you. "We are heading home now." says Tony.

"Alright. It was nice to see you." says Natasha. “Y/N can I call you tomorrow morning?”

"Yeah, just call when you're ready."

"It was nice meeting you guys." says Rick.

"Yes, I thought so too, hopefully we see you soon again." you answer.

"Yeah, it was nice." Tony also says and nods at him. Bucky doesn’t say anything but helps you get up. Tony leads the way through the crowded bar towards the exit and Bucky walks behind you, his hand is on your back again as he carefully pushes you after Tony. You notice how your feet are starting to hurt in your shoes and you're glad to be home soon. A look at your phone tells you that it's almost 2 A.M. Oops. You didn't want to stay that long. Outside you breathe in the warm night air.

“Taxi or walk?” Bucky asks you, he has his arm around you again and you lean against him.

"Taxi please my feet are hurting. Tony will you drive with us?"

"You live the other way, dear." laughs Tony.

"That's right. But you know, I only can the subway network, not cars."

"We can drive to my place, that's in the same direction." Bucky suggests.

"Uhh, so you take her home with you. Your relationship goes pretty quickly."

"Shut up ass." Bucky says and hits Tony lightly, but he just laughs.

"Let's be honest. You looking good together."

"But we're not together. Just best friends" You said, laughing at Tony's statement.

"Well bro, that must have hurt."

"Dude. Leave it." you don't see his look, but from Tony's reaction you can tell that Bucky is looking at him more angrily than amused. Tony nods and starts typing on his phone, a few minutes later a taxi pulls up. You get in and Bucky says his address, the driver nods and drives off. It's late or early, depending on how you look at it. But New York never sleeps, so there is still traffic on the streets. Although less than during the day. You shift a little in the seat until you're comfortable and listen to Tony and Bucky's conversation. The ride doesn't take long, and when the taxi stops in front of Bucky's building, you rummage through your bag for your wallet.

"I'll cover it." Bucky says, but this time you remain stubborn.

"No." you take the bill out of your pocket and give it to the driver. Then you say goodbye to Tony, and when Bucky raises his hand for a farewell handshake, you notice that he had his hand on your thigh the whole ride again. Why didn't you notice this before? Did you really drink that much? You shake your head and climb out of the taxi. He probably got so used to it all evening that he didn't even notice. The taxi continues to take Tony home. Bucky takes his key out of his pocket and you go inside. The elevator ride to Bucky's floor is silent, but not unpleasant. A few minutes later you are standing in his apartment. You slip off your shoes and flex your feet.

"You see, you didn't have to carry me home." you say.

"Lucky me." Bucky grins at you and then helps you out of your jacket, his fingers running over your shoulders. "Are you tired?" He asks as he hangs up your jacket for you. You throw your bag under the wardrobe.

"A little bit." you answer. Bucky also takes off his jacket and shoes. Then he comes to you and you lean against him. He takes you in his arms and strokes your hair. You breathe in his familiar scent. "Do you think we convinced him?" you ask quietly.

"I guess. What else could we have done?" Bucky laughs briefly. You shrug your shoulders.

"You were really clingy today." Bucky pushes you away a little to look you in the eyes.

"Too much?"

"No." you say quickly. "No, not at all. I thought it was kind of nice. Just unusual."

"Unusual?"

"Well, I don't know you like this at all."

Bucky shrugs and smiles. "But nice?"

"Yes. I sometimes miss the closeness you have when you're in a relationship. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I know what you mean. I thought it was nice too. You kiss well." You start to laugh and want to pull away from the hug, but Bucky holds you by your waist.

"Don´t." he whispers. Suddenly you become aware of the closeness between the two of you. But you're always close? Why do you suddenly have this tingling sensation under your skin? You feel the alcohol in your veins. You smell the alcohol on his breath. And the next moment his lips are on yours again. You don't know which of you kissed whom. You do not care. This kiss is different, there is no one here that you have to act for. There is no one here for you to practice for. His lips on yours are soft, warm and comfortable. Buck’s hand cups your cheek and his thumb gently strokes your cheek. You put your arms around his neck and press yourself against him. His tongue carefully pushes into your mouth. Alcohol, adrenaline and desire rush through your veins. The kiss quickly intensifies, your tongues battle with each other, Bucky wins. His hand moves from your hip back to your ass and when he grabs it you moan. You never realized how much you missed being touched like that. You break away from each other, breathless. You look into his blue eyes, you don't know what you're looking for, but all you see is desire.

"Doll." his voice sounds rough and dark.

"Bucks." You say and he swallows. You don't want to think, you just want him. So you lean forward again, capturing his lips with yours. Your tongue finds his. Bucky moans softly into the kiss and you swear you've never heard such a hot sound in your life. Your whole body burns with desire for him. The next time you break apart, you don't hesitate. You take his hand and pull him towards his bedroom. You know his apartment as well as yours. You know that behind the door a large bedroom and a neatly made soft bed await you. And that's exactly where you want to go. The bedroom door hasn't fully closed behind you when Bucky quickly threw you onto the bed. You giggle as the mattress bounces slightly, but the next moment Bucky is on top of you and his lips are on yours. You scratch his neck lightly with your nails and he moans softly again. His lips move to your neck and he places kisses there. Immediately you have goosebumps all over you, you tilt your head to the side to give it more space and pray that it doesn't leave any red marks. But you actually don't care. His hand slides under your dress. You push your body towards him.

"Take it off." He says breathlessly in your ear and then kisses your earlobe. You sit up slightly and allow your dress to be pulled over your head. You're lying in front of him in just your underwear, but it doesn't make you uncomfortable. Maybe because you drank too much, maybe because Bucky is your Bucky. "You know you're beautiful." He says, running his hands over your body. You notice the blush rising to your cheeks, but at the same time you want him to keep touching you. You want to feel his hands all over your body. You don't answer him but just kiss him again. This time your hands go under his shirt. You feel the muscles of his back under your fingers. You push the t-shirt higher. Bucky removes his lips from yours and pulls the t-shirt over his head. You have to swallow at the sight of his defined body. You know he's ripped. You've seen him without a shirt countless times, but still. God this man is handsome. Your hands move up his torso, caressing his neck and cheeks. Then you smile and pull him back down to you. His lips automatically find yours for an intense kiss. You feel his body against yours, his weight on top of you and as you wrap your legs around his body you feel his hardness against your core through his jeans and you moan again. This is much better than your imagination. But that's not a fantasy. This is reality. His hands are wandering over your breasts in a very real way. Bucky's hands. Your best friend's hands. Through the lust and the alcohol, a thought suddenly arises. This is your best friend! Your Bucky. You're crossing a line and when that happens you can't go back. Fantasy is one thing but reality is another. You feel panic rising in you and your body tense up. You want to push him away and say stop, but you don't have to. Bucky pulled away from you and looked into your eyes. His eyes are worried over your face.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" he asks worriedly now. You shake your head, your throat is dry and you´re searching for the right words, but your brain is still stuck in a lust-drenched rigidity. Bucky sits up completely, pulling away from you and rubbing his face with both hands. Then he takes a deep breath. You finally manage to speak.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for anything."

"We can't Bucky. Oh shit." you pull your legs up to your body, trying to hide your half-naked body from him. Suddenly you feel uncomfortable. You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You're totally confused. Your head can't keep up with your feelings.

"Take it easy. Take a deep breath." His vocie is soft, but worried. You do as he says and then look back at him. You feel guilty and confused. Bucky gets up from the bed, turns to his closet and takes out one of his t-shirts. “Would you like to get dressed?” You nod. He hands you the t-shirt and you pull it over your head. The familiar smell of his detergent and the soft fabric on your skin calm you and you can finally think clearly again.

"I'm sorry." Bucky suddenly says now and you're confused again.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for harassing you. You're drunk and I took advantage of it. I thought you wanted it too."

"I wanted it! Bucky. No! Don't think like that. You didn't take advantage of me. I could say the same thing, you're drunk too." You are silent for a moment.

"Are you all right?" he asks, you can't quite interpret his look, he looks kind of sad, but that doesn't really fit.

"Yes, you?"

"Yes." he tries a smile, but it's a little crooked.

"It might be better if we go to sleep." you suggest. The situation makes you terribly uncomfortable. God, what have you done?

"Yeah, probably. Should I sleep on the couch?"

"Why? Do you want to sleep on the couch?" you've slept next to each other a thousand times. At some point you even developed the habit of cuddling a little before going to sleep.

"No. I just thought in case you needed some distance."

"I never need distance from you. If you want, you can sleep in the bed. Or I can sleep on the couch if you want." It's a strange atmosphere between the two of you, you both want to please the other without either of you really knowing what you want. Bucky sighs, slips out of his jeans and then puts on a fresh t-shirt. Meanwhile, you lie down under the blanket and are careful not to watch him change. Bucky slides into bed next to you.

"Sleep well, doll."

"Sleep well Bucks." Bucky presses the remote control on the nightstand and the light goes off. You lie in the dark and stare at the ceiling. Your thoughts revolve around the whole evening. About your kisses, about the touches. You felt good. You were happy. And it was nice. But that's how you always feel when you're with Bucky. Why is it so different this time? Because you kissed? But that was just for Natasha. That meant nothing. You almost slept with each other. But that's only because you've been making out all evening. Of course, this doesn't leave you unscathed. And you're drunk. You suppress a sigh and close your eyes. Tomorrow everything will be the same as before. Everything will be exactly the same as always! You fall asleep with this thought.

When you wake up, the bed next to you is empty. You turn onto your stomach, bury your face in the pillows and take a deep breath. You don't really feel rested, and one look at the alarm clock on the bedside table tells you why. It's not even 10 A.M. Why is Bucky already awake? You sit up and listen into the apartment, maybe he's taking a shower or something. But instead of the sound of water, you hear quiet voices. Bucky is talking to someone. Steve! You get out of bed faster than you thought you would.

"Bucky, do you really think this is a good idea?" You can hear the two of them talking muffled through the closed door.

"We help Natasha."

"Of course. You're so helpful and not at all selfish." Steve sounds sarcastic. But maybe you're just imagining it, after all you can only hear him faintly through the door. You quickly slip on one of Bucky’s sweaters. It is long enough to reach over your butt so you don't end up only in your underwear in front of Steve and then come out of the bedroom.

"Morning." You say as you step into the kitchen.

"Good morning Doll."

“Good morning Y/N.”

"Morning Steve, what are you doing here?"

"I brought coffee over. My run goes through Buckys street. I didn't know you were here otherwise I would have brought you one too."

"It's fine. Not like Bucks doesn't have a portafilter machine." You turn to the coffee machine and press the button so that the grinder starts grinding the beans.

“You are allowed to touch the holy coffee machine?”

"This is not a coffee machine, this...

"Is an Italian portafilter machine. We know." You and Steve interrupt Bucky at the same time. Bucky sighs but has to suppress a laugh.

"By the way, Tony filmed your smooch yesterday." Steve taps on his phone and the next moment you see you and Bucky making out at the bar. You feel yourself blushing.

"How childish."

"I think we look hot." Bucky says, pushing you by your hip to the sideand, taking the portafilter from your hand to clamp it into the machine and fill it with the freshly ground coffee. You roll your eyes.

"What's Rick like?" Steve then asks to change the subject. Bucky groans and rolls his eyes.

"Annoying."

"Nonsense. He's okay, I think."

"You think?"

"It was one evening and Nat likes him." the next moment your cell phone rings, Natasha. "Creepy." you accept the video call and in the next moment her face appears on your screen. "Good morning Nat." You say, leaning against the kitchen counter while Bucky finishes making your coffee and then fills your cup with oat milk. You know he always buys them especially for you and that makes you smile. God he's just the best.

"Good morning Y/N. I just got home."

"I am not that far yet." you turn the screen once so Nat can see Steve and Bucky, both of them giving her a quick wave. Then you turn the screen over again.

"How surprising." she says without meaning it. " But good I wanted to thank both of you. You really put on a good show yesterday."

“Sure thing, Nat.”

"It wasn't that bad." you kick at Bucky, but he pulls his leg away so you only hit the air.

"You can tell Rick in two weeks that we broke up." you then say back towards the phone.

"About that. He suggested we meet again on Wednesday for dinner. Like a double date." You roll your eyes.

"Nat!"

"I know, but I didn't know how to say no without lying. I don't want to lie to him."

"You should have thought about that beforehand." Steve says now. You give him a dirty look, it's none of his business.

“So Wednesday is fine?” You swipe away from the phone call to look at your calendar, but so far there's nothing scheduled for Wednesday other than work. "For me, yes." Bucky also looks at his cell phone calendar and then nods. "For Bucky too."

"Okay perfect. We were going to this new Italian place around the corner from me."

“That super fancy restaurant?” you ask.

"Yes, exactly." You sigh. Super fancy also means super expensive. A visit there would probably use up your entire going out budget for the month.

"Okay. See you Wednesday then." you say anyway. "Until Wednesday. And thank you again. I really owe you one. Love you."

"Love you. Bye Nat."

"Bye." Bucky and Steve call and than you end the call.

"I invite you, of course." Can Bucky read your mind? You blush slightly, but then nod.

"Thanks."

"Not for that, Doll." You don't actually earn less, but a lot of it goes towards renting your apartment. Natascha lives in one of her parents' apartments, so she doesn't pay rent and her parents also cover her tuition fees. Bucky earns more than you anyway and none of you can come close to Tony. It's not embarrassing that you don't have as much money as your friends, it's just annoying sometimes. You take a sip of your coffee. Buckys machine really is a thousand times better than that old thing in your kitchen.

"So guys. I have to go again. Peggy is waiting at home." Steve pushes his chair back and stands up. "It was nice to see you Y/N. Next time we'll be there again so we can chat longer."

"It was nice to see you too Steve. Love to Peggy."

"I will tell her." He says goodbye to Bucky with their signature handshake and then disappears from the apartment. You're alone with Bucky, you're sober and you suddenly remember your make out session in his bed you had yesterday. Damned. How embarrassing.

"I'm going to take a shower and then be on my way, don't want to bother you any more."

"You don't bother me, Doll. Ever." Bucky says. You try a smile, put down your almost full cup and escape to the bathroom. Maybe you can walk away from this awkward conversation. You're never embarrassed in front of Bucky, he's your best friend. You go through the ups and downs of your life with him, but yesterday. That was different and you don't want to think about it. Damn you were about to fuck him. You briefly go into the bedroom and open the wardrobe. You spend the night here so often that you have your own clothes here, you quickly get some fresh clothes and then disappear to the bathroom. As the hot water flows over your body, you take a deep breath. You try to sort out your thoughts. Everything was good between you right now. It wasn't strange. Everything as always. Or was it just because Steve was there? Should you address the situation yesterday? Or just stay silent and pretend everything is fine? Your mind wanders back to last night, to the feeling of his hands on your body. You quickly shake your head. You really can't use that now. You finish your shower, dry yourself off and change into your fresh clothes. You wrap your hair in a towel and as you step out of the bathroom, Bucky is standing directly in front of you. He was waiting for you.

“I know you Y/N and I know you want to run away, but we need to talk about yesterday.” You swallow. Damned! Were you drunk enough to pretend you didn't remember? No, unfortunately not. "Kitchen. There's breakfast." He says, nodding his head in that direction. You look at the front door, maybe you should just run. You realize how ridiculous this idea is and you admit defeat. You slowly follow him into the kitchen and sit at the table where Bucky has prepared breakfast. You grab a roll and Bucky gives you a fresh coffee. Then he sits down opposite to you. "So yesterday..." he begins, his voice sounds emotionless. You know that voice, that's his working voice. And you know he has a speech prepared. But you don't want to hear it. Everything in you is now reluctant to hear these prepared words. So you interrupt him.

"I think we should just forget about it. We were drunk, made out all night, so it's clear that we're kind of horny." He furrows his eyebrows, you can see that he doesn't like that you interrupted him, but he nods.

"If you want it that way." Now you're confused. You don't like the sentence, something is strange. But you can't quite put your finger on it.

"What do you want?"

Bucky opens his mouth, but he doesn't say anything. He takes a deep breath, looks at his plate and when he looks up again he smiles at you. But you know him too well. That's not his normal smile. It seems forced.

"Let's forget it." he then replies. Even though it was your idea, somewhere deep inside you are hurt. You quickly push the feeling away. You just want it to be like it used to be. It should be like yesterday morning. Before you made out.

"Good." you agree. The rest of breakfast passes in silence. Then you and Bucky clean up the kitchen. Your goodbye is kind of stiff and as you head home you still feel like something isn't right. You would like to call Natasha. She is your best friend. Normally you would call her now and talk to her about every second of last night. But Bucky is her ex-boyfriend. Yes, it was a long time ago. Yes, they're both obviously over it. Still, something inside you is resisting. You don't call her.

You don't hear from Bucky all weekend. That's not normal. But you don't call him either. Did you really ruin your friendship? God, what have you done? You just wanted to help Natasha. You spend the whole Sunday thinking about whether you should call her or not. But you don't. You know that Sundays are completely reserved for her studying and you don't want to disturb her. You're also embarrassed by the situation. Did you handle it wrong? Should you have listened to Bucky's speech? What is he really thinking? For the first time in almost three years, you feel like you don’t know what Bucky is really thinking. You don't feel like doing anything this Sunday. Bored, you lie on your sofa and stare at the switched off television. You tried to watch something, but it didn't interest you. You aren´t hungry all day, so you don´t eat anything ecept an slice of bread. Are you so old that a hangover lasts two days? Well actually you didn't drink enough to even have a hangover. You didn't even have a headache yesterday. You keep reaching for your phone, thinking about calling Bucky. But you don´t. You miss him. It feels like you had an argument. But you don't have. Or? Why can't you just call him? Because you're afraid it's weird. But it's weird already. God. What have you done? On Sunday evening, a few tears roll down your cheek before you fall asleep.

Monday morning comes too quickly and when your alarm goes off you briefly consider if you should call in sick. But that doesn't work. You still have way too much to do. So you get up, get dressed and head to work. You're just slumping into your office chair when your phone beeps. Bucky wrote you a message. Your stomach tightens. What's that supposed to mean? This is your best friend! Pull yourself together. You pick up your phone and open the message. "Call later? Work until 5." "Gladly." You answer, but you don't know what you want to say to him. What does he want? Since when has he been asking for phone calls? Usually he just calls. God you need to talk to someone. But you're so embarrassed by the whole situation. You've long since ruled out talking to Natasha about it. Wanda? No, she wouldn't really have any good advice for you. Wanda has fallen in love with every guy she has kissed so far. She loves the dream of true love. And with Vision she lives out this dream. Peggy? No, she's more Bucky's friend than yours. You sigh as you realize your last option. Tony. You need more friends. Nevertheless, you reach for your cell phone and call him.

"What gives me the honor?" he answers it after a short moment.

“Do you have anything planned during your lunch break?”

"My whole life is a lunch break." You already regret calling him and sigh. Tony must have heard you because his voice suddenly becomes serious. "What's up?"

"I have something to discuss."

"And why not with Nat?"

"Not an option."

"You're making me really curious. So lunch break. I'll pick you up at your office."

"Thanks Tony."

"See you later." After the phone call, you try to concentrate on your work but things are going slowly. You're happy when Tony writes you a message and says he's standing in front of the building. You quickly grab your things and your jacket, say goodbye to your colleagues for your break and go to the elevator. Tony knows well not to come inside your office. People treat you differently once they know you're friends with him. You noticed that clearly at your last job. As you leave the building, Tony is standing in front of you with a to-go box from his favorite Italian restaurant. You walk a little way to the nearby park, sit down at a fountain and start eating.

"So why did you want to talk so badly?" he asks curiously.

"It's because of Bucky."

"What about Bucky?"

"We kissed."

"I know. I filmed it."

"No. I mean after. In his apartment. In his bedroom. Half naked." Tony starts laughing.

“You guys fucked?”

"No! Almost, then we stopped and it's been weird ever since."

"Have you talked about it?"

"Just briefly. He had prepared a speech but I didn't let him finish and then we said let's forget it, everything is as usual. But I haven't heard from him since then, until this morning. He wants to call later."

Tony sighs and thinks a moment. “Did you stop or did he?”

"I. Why?"

"Then it's quite clear. Y/N. If a beautiful woman like you pushed me off the edge of the bed, I would also have a bruised ego."

“You think this is an ego thing?”

"I am very sure." You are relieved. So you haven't lost your friendship with him after all. "He'll probably only need a few days and then everything will be as before. Don't worry so much."

"Easier said than done. You know I'm an overthinker."

"And a people pleaser."

"Thanks." You say, rolling your eyes. Tony winks at you.

"How was it?"

"What?"

"Your almost fuck of course."

"Tony!" You say, slapping his arm.

"What? You wanted my advice and I just want my fair reward."

“Oh, your advice now comes with conditions?”

"Always have."

"And you wonder why no one asks you for advice. Oh yes, that was because of your character." Tony looks at you in shock for a moment and then starts laughing out loud.

"Good one. I'm proud." You rolled your eyes again. "So do I get the spicy details now or not?"

"No."

"It was worth a try." he then laughs.

"I hope everything goes well on the phone call." you then say and chew on your noodles.

"I'm sure. Otherwise, sit down together at the weekend and discuss everything calmly. Making out isn't the end of the world."

"Well we have to have everything sorted out by Wednesday at the latest."

"What's on Wednesday?"

"A fake double date with Nat and Rick."

Tony rolls his eyes. "I can't stand the guy."

"You just don't like him because he's not Bruce."

"That's not true!" Tony's look turns sad and you know he's thinking about his old lab partner. But he was so much more than that. Tony's best friend, Natasha's first love. You shake your head. You don't want to think about what happened to him, neither of you saw it coming. From one day to the next he was gone, and everything was different. You regret saying his name. Tony takes a deep breath.

"This is far too serious for me." You reach for his hand and try an encouraging smile. Tears gather in Tony's eyes, but he quickly blinks them away. "I miss him."

"I miss him too." You say. Tony takes a few deep breaths and then manages to smile again. He removes his hand from yours and claps his hands.

"You have to go back to the office." he then changes the subject.

"Are you sure?" Now you don't want to leave him alone.

"Yeah. I'll be fine. But I want an update tonight, your drama is much better than mine." You roll your eyes slightly, but you're glad that his low mood has been averted.

"You will get it." you say, getting up and throwing the empty food box into the nearest trash.

"Don't worry so much. Everything will be fine. Trust me, I'm a genius."

"But that doesn't mean you can see the future."

"Right, I can't do that yet. But I'm a man, just like James. Give him a little time until he realizes that his ego is getting in his way and everything is as usual." You want to believe him. And why should he be wrong?

"Thanks Tony. That really helped me."

"You´re welcome." He says, smiling genuinely at you. You hug each other goodbye and you head back to the office. After the conversation you can concentrate much better, you even manage to prepare everything for your project presentation. And that without overtime. You come home on time and put on comfortable clothes. You've just sat down on the couch with a cup of coffee when your cell phone rings. Bucky. You quickly answer your cell phone. "Hello."

"Hello." and then you both remain silent. Tears come to your eyes, maybe everything won't be okay after all. You hear Bucky take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. This is weird. It's weird between us." he speaks faster than you are used to from him.

"Yes, it is."

"I didn't want it like that. Never. And I know that in my bedroom was shit and that we didn't talk properly was shit too. I fucked up."

"No. When someone screwed up than it is me. I didn't let you finish on Saturday and left as soon as I could. I know it's only Monday but I miss you Bucks. It's so unusual for me not to talk to you for so long."

"It's unusual for me too. I miss you too." A ring at the front door makes you jump. "Will you open the door for me?" You quickly jump up from the sofa and open the door for him. You're so relieved to see him that you fall straight into his arms. You know that the last time you saw each other was only two days ago and that this dependence on your best friend is neither normal nor healthy, but you don't care about that at this moment. You're just happy to be able to hold him in your arms again. This time it doesn't feel strange, it feels right. You let him into your apartment and he throws keys and wallet into the small bowl on the dresser next to your door. Everything as usually. Then he puts his jacket aside and you sit together on your sofa.

"You wanted to say more to Saturday right?" you finally manage to gather enough courage to face the situation.

"Yeah, I thought about something before Steve came."

“Do you still want to say it now?” Bucky looks at you for a while, he seems to be thinking. Then he begins to speak.

"I wanted to say that I don't want our friendship to be affected by this little make out session. That nothing is as important to me as our friendship." he stops, takes a deep breath and looks around the room. But then his eyes find yours again, his look is serious. "But that's a lie." A hot burning sensation forms in your stomach. What? Before you can say anything, before you can even understand what he said, he's already talking again. "It's a lie Y/N. I've known this for a while. I don't know how many times I've talked to Steve about it. It's probably getting on his nerves terribly. But whatever, that's not the topic right now. I I really wanted to come here and tell you that everything is as usual but I can't. I don't want to. I don't want to keep lying. Shit. Kissing you, holding you in my arms, being allowed to touch you in front of everyone, This is all I've ever wanted. You're all I've ever wanted. I only had this for one evening but I can't go back. I'm driving myself crazy to think that none of this was real on your part. I love you. I love you for so long. I know you don't feel that way but I can't carry on like this. I'm sorry." You sit on your sofa and stare at him in shock. Did he really just say that? Your thoughts start racing. Everything has changed since the weekend and yet everything is somehow the same. You think about how you feel being around Bucky. Nobody makes you feel so comfortable. With him you can be completely you. You enjoy the closeness you have with him. Every hug. Every time you watch a movie together and cuddle. Every time you fall asleep in his arms. You can talk to him about anything. You can talk about the same thing a thousand times and he wouldn't complain. When you're with him you don't have to pretend. He saw you at your lowest points and helped you out. You saw him at his lowest points and built him back up. You always thought he was your soulmate, but platonic. Maybe your relationship isn't as platonic as you thought. You didn't see him for 2 days, thought you had lost him and felt like your whole world had collapsed. Have you ever felt that way about one of your friends? No of course not. You almost laughed at your own stupidity. How could you not realize that you love him? You lean in and place your lips on his. The feeling is so strange and at the same time so familiar. Bucky kisses you for a moment and then pulls away.

"Don't please. Don't do this because you think you have to." he swallows a few times, tears glistening in his eyes.

"I love you." You say. Now it's him who looks at you in shock.

"As your best friend?" he then asks uncertainly. Uncertain. Also a word that you wouldn't have associated with Bucky until today.

"No. I thought so. I thought you were my best friend. But that's not true. You're so much more. I love you Bucky and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner. I'm sorry we had to go through that drama. I'm sorry it took a fucking fake relationship for me to understand that I love you." you laugh and at the same time tears stream down your cheeks. How could you be so stupid? Now it's Bucky who leans in and kisses you. You wrap your arms around him, close your eyes and enjoy the kiss. He starts to laugh in the kiss and you laugh too.

"We're really stupid." He says, stroking your cheek.

"Yes." you take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. Your whole body is flooded with happiness. “So no more fake relationships?”

"No. No more fake." he kisses you again and then pulls you onto his lap in one quick movement. You put your arms around his neck and hug him.

"I love you." you repeat, how could you ever not say it to him?

"I love you."

Bucky stays with you, but you don´t get any further than the couch. You're too busy making out and laughing at your own stupidity.

"Steve will be happy, now I won't bother him anymore."

"I should probably apologize to him." You say while scratching his neck. Bucky is laying across your couch with his head in your lap. You've been like this thousands of times, but this time it's different. It's much better.

"I could have said something sooner."

"Why didn `t you?"

"I was afraid of losing you. I felt like a schoolboy falling in love for the first time. At first I thought it was just a phase, but it became more and more. When we kissed in the kitchen on Friday, I almost lock you up here and never let you out again." You start laughing and roll your eyes.

"Charming."

"Always." Your phone rings and you both jump. To be honest, you've forgotten that the world outside your apartment still exists. Bucky turns his head to the side to see who is calling you. "Why is Tony calling you so late?" He sits up and looks at you from the side, there is something in his gaze that you don't yet know. Jealousy.

"Why is my friendship with Tony suddenly a problem?" you ask confused, you've never seen him jealous before.

"It´s not " he says quickly. "I was just wondering why he was calling you so late."

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes." he says openly. "I know I shouldn't, but I am."

"You've never been jealous before."

"I was jealous of every man near you. I just didn't let you see it." he confesses to you.

“Then why now?” you ask, you're not mad at him because he's jealous. It flatters you a little to be honest.

"Because you're mine now." he says smiling. You grinned at him, leaned in and kissed him. Your cell phone stops ringing.

"I went on a lunch break today and asked him for advice because of you. I was afraid I would have destroyed our friendship. But he said you only had a scratch ego because I didn´t sleep with you and everything will be back to normal in a few days."

"He was wrong."

"Yes he was. He wants an update from our phone call." You have to laugh at the thought of how everything has changed in just a few hours, everything has become so much better.

"Then call him back." grins Bucky. You pick up your phone from the table and press call back. The next moment Tony's face appears on your phone screen.

“And was I right or was I right?” he asks into the phone without greeting. "Has Mr. Ego recovered?" Before you can answer, Bucky slides into the Screen.

"Mr. Ego?" Tony winces.

"Dude. You know I hate jump scares." You start laughing again. “What are you doing at Y/N’s house so late?” Why does he have to be so nosy? You and Bucky exchange a quick look. And you know you think the same thing. Why lie? Why keep something that feels so beautiful and so right secret?

"I'm spending time with my girlfriend." Bucky replies.

"GIRLFRIEND?" Tony screams into the phone and you hold the phone away. You didn't expect such a sudden outburst of emotions from him.

"Yep." you say. Tony starts laughing uproariously.

"I didn't expect that."

"Always good for a surprise."

"I'm happy for you and I said you look good together. "

"Thanks Tony."

"Then I won't bother you any further."

"We haven't told anyone else yet." You say quickly before Tony tells everyone the news.

"I'm quiet, don't worry, lovebirds."

Tuesday morning you would like to call in sick again, but this time for a different reason. Bucky kisses your cheeks as light as a feather, his beard tickles slightly and his hands stroke your hips under your t-shirt. Or more likely under one of his old t-shirts that you wear to sleep. "I have to get up and take a shower. Otherwise I'll be late." you laugh but kiss him again. You don't want to get up. You would much rather spend the whole day here in bed with him.

"Then be late."

"Then I'll be fired."

"Doesn't matter." his lips find your neck and he kisses you. You bite your lip to keep from moaning. You gather all your self-control and push him away from you.

"I have to work." He grimaces, sighs, and then rolls off of you.

"You're right as always." You quickly climb out of the soft bed before you change your mind and head towards the bathroom. You definitely need a shower after last night. A look at the clock tells you that you have still enough time. Thank god.

"Are you coming?" you call into the bedroom.

"What?"

"Showering." You hear him jump out of bed and the next moment he's in the bathroom with you. His lips on yours again. You start to laugh, but when his hands go under your sleep shorts you moan.

You stand in front of your closet and tilt your head to the side. Then you look back at the picture Natasha sent you of her outfit and back into your closet. You don't quite have the right outfit, so you'll be a little underdressed. You get dressed, do your make-up and your hair. Just as you're done, the doorbell rings. A happy smile spreads across your face and your heart flutters. Bucky. You quickly open the door.

"You look great." You say, he is wearing a dark shirt and pants. But he's rolled up his sleeves and you have to swallow when you look at his muscular underarms. When did you become a horny teenager?

"That's my text Doll." He says and kisses you. "Here for you." he pulls out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. You beam at him.

"Thanks. That wouldn't have been necessary."

"It's our first real date. Unfortunately we have to spend it with Rick, but still." You hit him on the upper arm. He and Tony could really open a we-hate-rick club. And that even though they don´t really know him. He kisses your cheek. You take the flowers and look for a vase in the kitchen. You fill it with water and place the flowers on the table in the living room so that they get enough light. Then you turn in a circle in front of Bucky so he can see you from all sides.

"And are you going out with me like that?" He grabs your hips and pulls you close.

"I would love to stay here with you like this." You start laughing, biting your bottom lip and looking at him with wide eyes.

"And then?"

"Stop it." he pushes you away from him, laughing. "But something is missing." he then says seriously again. You turn to the mirror and examine your outfit and make-up. Does he not like it? Maybe other shoes? Or another make-up? "I can hear you thinking." you turn back to Bucky, he is standing in front of you with a mischievous grin. "That's missing." He pulls out of his trouser pocket a silver chain set with small sparkling stones.

"Oh Bucks. No. I can't accept that." you say. You don't want him to give you anything. He's already taking you to an overly expensive restaurant today.

"Yes you can." He comes behind you and pushes your hair to the side to put the necklace on you. His hands then stroke your bare shoulders and he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade.

"It is too much."

"It's not. Otherwise, consider it a gift for your promotion." You start laughing.

“I didn’t get promoted.” Your presentation went really well yesterday and your boss put you in charge of the project. Normally you are only responsible for the preparation and then have to hand everything over. This is a great opportunity for you. Of course Bucky was the first person you called afterwards.

“You get more money?”

"Correct."

"And more responsibility?"

"Yes."

"Sounds like a promotion to me."

"But my job title remains the same."

"Formalities." You sigh but smile at him. You are so full of happiness that you can't believe it yourself.

"Thanks Bucky. For the flowers, for the necklace. For you. Just thank you."

"You don't have to thank Y/N. You make me so happy."

"You make me happy." You kiss him and fold your arms behind his neck. Bucky smiles against your lips. Then he breaks away from you.

"Come on now, Doll. Otherwise we'll be late."

"You're right." You say, turning around and reaching for your bag. Bucky slaps your ass lightly in the next moment. You gasp in mock outrage. "Stop it." He clicks his tongue and grins.

"Don't pretend you didn´t like it." You roll your eyes, laugh, and then head for the door. How grown up. You meet Nat and Rick in front of the restaurant, so Bucky came to you with his car, he parked right in front of your apartment and of course he has a parking ticket stuck to the windshield. He takes it off as he walks around the car to open the door for you. You collapse into the comfortable leather seat and Bucky throws the ticket to the others.

"At some point they'll take away your driver's license."

"Nonsense. I pay my traffic tickets diligently." You roll your eyes and he starts the engine. "And even if I do, you can drive me around."

"I don't have a driver's license." You've lived in New York your whole life. So why get a driving license?

"I know." he merges into the traffic and you arrive at the restaurant on time. You reach for the door handle, but Bucky lightly pecks your side. "Wait." He gets out, comes around the car and opens the door for you.

"Gentleman."

"Always. I'm just the perfect boyfriend." He really is. You started to worry if things would be different between you now, but they aren't. He's still your Bucky except he's also your boyfriend. Bucky hands the key to the valet-parking and you look down the street to see where Nat and Rick are. You feel yourself getting nervous. You haven't told Nat about your relationship with Bucky. You've only been together for three days. Still, something like that is actually something you tell her straight away. But he is still her ex-boyfriend. It seems forbidden to you. Your best friend's ex-boyfriend is normally absolutely taboo. You're sure she won't be mad but still. It makes you nervous. Bucky places a hand on your back. "What is it?"

"I didn't tell Nat." He knows exactly what you mean, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Because you're unsure if it'll hold?"

"No!" you say quickly. "No, not at all. It's just you're her ex." Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Hardly worth mentioning.”

"I know, I know. Still, I have no idea why I tink like that. I want to tell her. But I haven't had the chance yet. And now I can´t because Rick is with us. I'll tell her tomorrow."

"Take all the time you need, Doll." he kisses your cheek and smiles. Then you see Natasha and Rick come around the next corner. Your best friend looks stunningly beautiful as always. But her face looks a little tense. She doesn't hold Rick's hand either. The two walk stiffly next to each other. "Looks like a crisis." A mean grin appears on Bucky's face. You hit him lightly in the stomach with your elbow. "Ouch."

"That didn't hurt."

"It could have ."

“But it didn’t.” you suppress a grin.

"I'm sorry you had to wait." Natasha greets you and pulls you into a tight hug. Then she hugs Bucky too while you greet Rick with a smile and a handshake. Bucky just nods at him.

"No problem, we just arrived." you say. You go inside the restaurant and, thanks to your reservation, you are taken straight to a table. Bucky pulls the chair back for you and you grin at him as he sits down next to you. He immediately grabs your hand and you interlace your fingers together. Natasha and Rick sit across from you and the waitress brings the menus. You notice that there are no prices on your menu and you're kind of glad that you don't know how much this costs.

"How was your presentation?" Nat asks.

"Good. Really good. I can lead the project until the end." you answer her, feeling a little proud of yourself.

"That's great Y/N. I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks." Natasha smiles at you, suddenly her eyes go to your neck. Did Bucky leave a hickey? No he didn't. You checked as you put on your dress. The necklace. Nat knows all your jewelry so she knows it's new. But she doesn't say anything. You continue to talk. It's much quieter in the restaurant than in the bar on the weekend, so you get to know Rick a little better. With each of his answers, Bucky seems to likes him less and you also find it a little difficult to find similarities between him and Nat. He has other hobbies, isn't interested in environmental protection like Natasha is, and he is showing off a little too much for your taste. But Natasha must like him, not you. You notice a tense atmosphere between Nat and Rick, but maybe you're just imagining it. Before dessert you excuse yourself to the toilet.

"I'm coming with you." says Natasha. Bucky gives you both a pleading look. You press a kiss to his cheek.

"Be nice." you whisper silently.

"A new necklace?" Natasha asks when you reach the toilets.

"Yes from Bucks."

"He gives you jewelry?" she asks, surprised and confused.

"Yes, because my presentation went so well." She doesn't believe you. Of course not. You don't believe yourself. You desperately want to tell her, but now is neither the right time nor the right place. You both quickly go to the toilets. "What about you and Rick?" you ask as you wash your hands. Nat rolls his eyes.

"So obvious?"

"Yes."

"We argue a bit. But that's normal." She tells herself, you notice that immediately.

"Yes, it is." you still agree with her. You wish her that she can finally be happy again. And arguments in a relationship are normal!

"What do you think of him?"

"He's nice. I've spoken to him a bit more now than I did at the weekend."

“Just nice?”

"Well, yes. Very nice. But it is only important what you think." You go back to your table, from far away you see Bucky and Rick having a staring contest. Bucky doesn't even blink.

"Bucky hates him." Natasha says and sights.

"He doesn't know him."

"And he doesn't try to get to know him." You don't know what to say because she's right so you just sigh. You come back to the table and you immediately reach for Bucky’s hand again. He smiles, but doesn't take his eyes off Rick. How grown up. You feel Natasha kick Bucky under the table. He doesn't flinch, but he looks over at her and smiles.

"Who wants dessert?" he asks without making a face and waves the waiter over. Natasha's eyes cast daggers at him. You bite your cheek to suppress a laugh.

You complete the last half hour of the dinner and as you sit in Bucky's passenger seat you breathe a sigh of relief. Dinner was tiring. Rick is exhausting.

"I'll be honest, I hate him." Bucky says and puts on his turn signal. You sigh.

"He won't become my favorite person." you half agree with him. The car starts moving and you press the button to roll down the window. The warm car air mixes with the even warmer city air and you blow a strand of hair from your forehead. Bucky looks at you and smiles.

"You're beautiful."

"Look at the street." You say, but his compliment gives butterflies in your stomach and makes you blush.

"To me or do you want to go home?" he asks.

"To you." you answer him. "Or do you want an evening alone?"

"I don't know if I'll ever want an evening to myself again when the alternative is an evening with you."

The next afternoon you stand nervously outside Natasha's lecture hall. It's her last one for the day, you know that. You got off work early today, went to university and bought bad coffee for you and Nat at the street stand. You definitely have to tell her today. The necklace made her suspicious, you know that and you want to tell her. Why should you be afraid of her reaction? You know yourself that it is irrational. The doors open and a bunch of students stream outside. You recognize Natasha's red head of hair straight away and start waving. When she sees you she is surprised. You didn't tell her you were coming to pick her up. She comes to you and you hug.

"Hey Y/N. What are you doing here?" she asks as you hand her the coffee, which is probably cold by now.

"Picking you up." You leave the building. Natasha is skeptical, you can tell by her look.

"What's bothering you?" you ask as you make your way towards her apartment.

"What makes you think something is bothering me?" you ask.

"You were a bit strange at dinner and now you're picking me up from university?" You sigh. Why does she know you so well?

"Something happened." Natasha looks at you worried. "On Friday." you don't really know how to start. You can't find the right words. You sigh. There's no point in talking around it. "On Friday night when I was at Bucky's we kissed and almost slept with eachother." Natasha furrows her eyebrows and then starts to laugh.

"God Y/N, you look like you just told me that my grandma died. It's all good. Did you think I was mad? Not because of that. Bucky and I broke up years ago." You're relieved to hear that, but you haven't said everything yet. "If you want to sleep with him then go for it. From what I remember he's really good." Nat puts an arm around your shoulder and grins at you from the side.

"I know." She stumbles in her movement.

"Y/N. Tell me the whole story! Now." she demands. Now you don't know if she's mad or not. Her face reveals nothing. You sigh and tear off the patch.

"We talked about it briefly on Saturday and I said I wanted to forget it. Bucky was weird and we didn't talk at all on Sunday. I wanted to call you but I know you're studying on Sunday and I was so embarrassed and scared that you're mad because he's your ex.."

"If you call him my ex-boyfriend again I'll scream. I'm over it, he's over it. We're friends!" She interrupts and you bite your lip.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you."

"You're always apologizing for something. But you haven't said for what yet."

"Yeah, I know. I... I.... Oh fuck it. Bucky came over on Monday and confessed to me that he loves me and then I realized that I love him too and now we're together. A real couple. A real relationship." you talk so fast that you're gasping for air by the time you finish. Nat just looks at you for a moment. Fear rises within you. Is she angry after all?

"Yes. Oh my God. How could I be so blind. Of course."

"What ?" you are completely confused. Natasha pulls you into a tight hug. She doesn't care that you're standing in the middle of the sidewalk and people are bumping into you and cursing at you.

"I was thinking. How could I not notice. You're both my best friends and I didn't realize you were into each other. I feel stupid."

"Well, I didn't notice it myself." You say, shrugging your shoulders. "I just thought Bucky and I were really good friends." Natasha starts laughing and you join in. "You are not mad?"

"No. Not at all. I'm happy for you. And for him. Really."

"Thanks Nat. I was really scared." Nat tilts his head slightly and sighs.

"I'm always your best friend. No matter what happens." You smile at her. "Come on, we'll be at my place in a moment and then I want to hear every little detail about this love confession. It must have been really good." You laugh briefly and then let her drag you along to her apartment.

Natascha's message comes on Friday afternoon as you are leaving your office and looking forward to a relaxing weekend. You're planning on going to your grandma's with Bucky tomorrow morning. Also because, unlike you, he has a car and you don't have to take the train. And of course because you want to introduce him to your grandma as your new boyfriend. Your mother would be there too. Natasha's message changes your plans. At least when it comes to leaving early. "Girls' night. Today I have vodka and ice cream. Nothing else." You furrow your eyebrows and know that something must have happened. Voda and ice cream is Nat's recipe for broken hearts. You quickly answer her that you will be with her in 2 hours. Then you dial Bucky's number.

"Hey doll."

"Hey Bucks. I have to cancel our DVD night."

"What happened?" he asks, slightly worried.

"Nat demanded a girls' night .An ice cream with vodka problem."

" Sounds serious."

"I don't know yet. Is that okay with you?"

"Of course, totally fine. We've seen each other every evening this week, now it´s Nat's turn. Should I pick you up tomorrow morning and we'll drive straight to your grandma's?"

"Sounds perfect. Thanks Bucky, you're the best."

"I know. Have a nice evening. I love you."

"I love you." The words come so easily from your lips that you wonder how you couldn't have realized that you love him. God you are so stupid. You hang up and head home. There you put on some comfortable clothes, pack a few things and head straight back to Natashas apartment. When you arrive, Peggy opens the door for you. You look at her surprised and pleased.

"You live." you grin and throw your arms around her neck. She laughs and presses herself against you.

"I missed you too."

"Are you feeling better?" you ask and have to suppress a grin because you know exactly why she was “sick” for so long.

"Yes, much better. Thanks." You put your bag down and walk through the long hallway to Nat's living room. She has already pushed the couch aside and laid out blankets and pillows in front of the huge television. Wanda sits on the floor next to Natasha. You greet them both with a hug and then collapse next to them.

"I ordered you a spinach pizza." Peggy says as she sits down next to you.

"Thanks. What happened Nat?" Your best friend wrinkles her nose. She has no make-up on and her eyes are bloodshot. She had cried.

"Rick and I broke up." You and Wanda exchange a quick look after Nats words. Then you turn to her.

"Oh what a shame."

"I'm sorry for that."

"You fit together so well."

"Fucking liars! None of you liked him and Peggy didn't even know him." she starts laughing and then crying. And then both at the same time. You quickly hug her and Wanda and Peggy also wrap her arms around her so it becomes a group hug. Natasha cries for a while and then takes a long sip from her vodka bottle. The smell alone makes you sick. Nat takes a few deep breaths. "Now it's proven Bruce was my last love." she says sadly.

"No! Nat. He was your first love but definitely not your last." you contradict her.

"Yes, exactly." agrees Peggy.

"But then why didn't it work again?"

"Because Rick was an ass?" Wanda suggests. "

"He just wasn't right for you."

"But at some point the right one comes along." Peggy adds.

Natasha looks at all of you and then smiles. "Thanks." She says and then wipes away her tears. "Enough crying about Rick."

"Exactly men are not worth our tears." you say. Nat laughs briefly.

"It doesn't sound honest coming from you. You're in love head over heels."

"Nat!"

Wanda looks at you in surprise, but you know from Peggy's grin that she already knows. Steve is such a gossip girl.

"You have a boyfriend? Since when and who?" Wanda asks.

"Since Monday." you answer, smiling. "Bucky." "

I knew you were too convincing. Best friends never make out like that." she exclaims. You start laughing.

"We're drinking now." Natasha decides and holds up the vodka bottle. Wanda reaches past her for a few glasses and juice. Unlike Nat, none of you like straight vodka. Natasha shares her bottle of vodka with you and when she hands the cup to Peggy you swallow. Oh no. .

"I can't." says Peggy.

"Why not? It's girls' night."

Peggy takes a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

"WHAT?" shouts Wanda.

"Oh my God."

"How surprising." You say, looking to the side because you can't suppress a grin.

"Are we happy?" Natasha asks uncertainly.

"Yes, we are happy. We are very happy." Peggy replies, laughing. This time it's her who gets a group hug. "And Y/N don't pretend. Bucky has known since day one and I'm sure you've known since day two. You suck at lying." Peggy says after you break away from the hug and lightly pushes you on the shoulder.

"He kept quiet until last week. I swear."

“So just juice for Peggy,” says Natasha and makes her another glass. "We'll toast anyway. To the first love and the last love." You toast and drink. To first love and last love. A nice toast actually.

You sprint out of your office. You're way too late and you hate yourself for it. But you couldn't leave earlier, your project is going well but a few things had to be finished today. You are responsible, so you take personal care. As you walk through the streets you rummage through your pocket for your cell phone. You actually wanted to go home after work, but then you would be even later for the dinner with your friends. You meet in 10 minutes and you are still 30 minutes away from the restaurant. You call Bucky.

"I just left the office." You say breathlessly as he answer the call.

"I thought so, I'm already on my way to the others. Should I come pick you up?"

"No, no. Then you will drive past the restaurant, I'm just a little late. But I'll hurry up."

"Take it easy, Doll. Take a deep breath. Being late isn't the end of the world."

"But it's rude." "

I bet you you'll get there before Tony and because he and Pepper invited us out you'll be on time."

"It doesn´t work like that." you laugh, but your steps slow down a little.

"It works exactly the way we want it to. Now breathe in and out deeply." You do what he says. "Better?"

"Much better. Why are you so perfect?" Bucky laughs quietly.

"I've waited for us for so long. I'm doing my best now." Your heart flutters at his words.

"You're perfect. The perfect boyfriend. I love you."

"I love you too. I'll see you soon, Doll."

"See you soon." Unfortunately, when you arrive at the restaurant, Pepper and Tony are already there. You are the last and the only one still wearing your work clothes. "I'm so sorry guys. I was stuck at work."

"It's okay Y/N. Don't stress. It's nice that you make it." Pepper smiles at you. She only came back two days ago. That's why you're eating together this Thursday. And this time you are complete again since a long time. You hug Pepper.

"Good to see you." You say and greet the others before you sit down next to Bucky and press a kiss on his lips.

"Hey Bucks." you say.

"Hey, Doll. See, I say being late isn't a bad thing."

"Why do you act like you're together when Rick and Nat have broken up?" Vision asks confused and looks between you and Bucky.

"Oh shit, I forgot to tell you." Wanda says, slapping her hand on her forehead. You all start laughing. Yes, maybe everything is different now, but somehow the same.

74 notes · View notes