#theres like... a little bit of everything here

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 18

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: Fluff???

A/N: I plan to fully wrap up everything so theres still a bit more parts left

Masterpost (links on mobile sucks lately ill add it later)

Sunday

The sun bathed the market in a warm, golden glow, making the world feel softer, almost dreamlike. The usual Sunday bustle of the vendors and the scent of fresh produce filled the air, as comforting as a favorite old song. You and Bucky had been here countless times before, always as part of the group. But today, it was just the two of you, and everything felt different—more intimate, more alive.

Bucky walked close to you, his hand brushing against yours with every step. Each accidental touch sent a little jolt through your chest, and you felt your heart thudding louder than the chatter around you. He hesitated for a moment, then reached out, his fingers sliding between yours. His palm was warm and sure, and the simple act of holding his hand felt monumental.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and filled with quiet concern, his eyes scanning your face like he was reading a map.

You met his gaze, your lips curving into a soft smile. “Yeah,” you murmured, squeezing his hand. “It’s just… different. Being here without everyone.”

Bucky’s lips quirked into a crooked smile, his thumb brushing lightly against yours. “Different’s not bad,” he said, his voice teasing but warm. “Besides, it’s nice not having Sam steal all the good fruit.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you before you could stop it. “Okay, true. He always swoops in like a hawk.”

Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing as he gently tugged you closer, weaving you both through the crowd. “Exactly. And Nat’s always dragging us to some random stall to buy things none of us actually need.”

“Like that time she bought Steve a giant ceramic rooster for his kitchen?” you said, grinning.

He grinned back, his laugh full and genuine. “And now it’s proudly on display in his living room because he doesn’t know how to tell her no.”

The shared memory eased the tension in your chest, and by the time you reached the book vendor—the one you always gravitated toward—you felt like you could breathe again. The stacks of worn novels and faded spines greeted you like old friends, their musty scent wrapping around you.

Bucky reached for a battered copy of Pride and Prejudice, flipping it open with exaggerated care. “So, how long before you lecture me about how I’m missing out by not reading this?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a tattered edition of The Great Gatsby. “Only if you promise to stop pretending Hemingway is the only author worth reading.”

Bucky gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d just wounded him. “You wound me, darlin'. Hemingway’s got soul.”

“Hemingway’s got issues,” you countered, raising an eyebrow. “And you know it.”

He leaned closer, his lips quirking up. “Maybe I just like complicated characters. Keeps things interesting.”

His voice was soft, but the look in his eyes made your breath hitch. You stared at him for a moment, feeling like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, standing there surrounded by forgotten stories and unspoken feelings.

“I’ll let you win this one,” you said finally, your voice a little shakier than you intended.

Bucky smirked, his expression all too knowing. “You’re letting me win? That’s new.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you shot back, grabbing the book from his hands and adding it to the pile you were carrying. “Now, come on. You’re buying me coffee for enduring this.”

As you walked back through the market, your bag of books swinging between you, Bucky leaned in close, his breath brushing against your ear. “I like this,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “Just us.”

Your chest tightened, your heart swelling as you tilted your head up to look at him. His blue eyes were so open, so earnest, it made you feel like you could drown in them. “Me too,” you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the noise of the market.

Bucky smiled, that lopsided grin you’d loved for years, and tightened his grip on your hand. The moment felt suspended in time—like a chapter you never wanted to end.

The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across the city. You and Bucky were walking home from the farmers market, a bag of books swinging between you and a carton of fresh strawberries in his other hand. The day had been easy and light—filled with laughter and teasing—and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you could breathe.

“You know,” Bucky began, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, “I always knew you’d drag me into the book section first.”

You grinned, nudging him with your shoulder. “And yet, you came willingly. Admit it, you love it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I love you. The books are just a bonus.”

Your cheeks warmed, but you quickly deflected with a playful roll of your eyes. “Flatterer.”

As you reached your apartment building, the playful banter slowed, replaced by a comfortable silence. Inside, the air was still, the faint hum of the fridge filling the background. You set the bag of books down on the counter and turned to find Bucky watching you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“What?” you asked, your voice soft.

He stepped closer, his fingers grazing your hand. “Can we talk?”

You swallowed, suddenly nervous, but you nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“You’re mine right?” Bucky leaned against the counter, his hands gripping the edge.

“Am i?” You spoke softly.

He hesitated, his jaw working as if he were searching for the right words. Finally, he looked at you, his blue eyes steady but vulnerable. “I thought when we said we loved each other, it was kind of… set in stone. You know?”

You blinked, caught off guard, before letting out a small laugh. “Bucky, you’ve known me for how long? You should know I need reassurance or, like, a label or something.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he straightened, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “Okay, then,” he said, his voice low and warm. He reached out, his hand cradling your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “Sweetheart, baby, babe—will you do me the greatest honor of my life and be mine? Officially?”

Your heart melted at the sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes searched yours with both hope and fear. You couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your face as you nodded. “Yes, Buck. Of course.”

His grin was instant, bright and boyish, and before you could say another word, he scooped you up, spinning you around. You squealed, laughing uncontrollably as he peppered your face with kisses.

“So this is what it’s like to be with the Bucky Barnes,” you teased, breathless as he set you down.

He shook his head, his hands still firmly on your waist. “No,” he said, his voice soft and serious. “This isn’t what it’s like to be with Bucky Barnes. This is what it’s like to be with you. This is what it feels like to love you. And there’s nothing in the world like it.”

The weight of his words hit you square in the chest, and you reached up, cupping his face as you pressed your forehead against his. “You’re gonna make me cry, Buck.”

“Good,” he teased, brushing his nose against yours. “I’ve been crying over you for years.”

You giggled, swatting his chest lightly before pulling him into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, a promise lingering between you.

When you finally broke apart, he grinned again, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, you wanna have a sleepover?”

You tilted your head, confused. “Bucky, we live together.”

“No, no,” he said, his grin widening. “I mean a sleepover in my room.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, I guess I never thought about how this is gonna work. We literally live together.”

“Exactly,” he said, his tone teasing but sincere. “So, what do you say?”

You pretended to consider for a moment before nodding. “I would love to have a sleepover with you.”

He let out a triumphant little cheer, grabbing his keys. “Perfect. I’m gonna grab takeout, and then we’re having a movie marathon. Don’t move.”

You laughed as he kissed you quickly and darted toward the door. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, you let out a deep sigh, sinking onto the couch. Your phone buzzed, and you saw a text from Natasha.

Nat: So… spill.

You: Spill what?

Nat: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you and Bucky are FINALLY together?!

You: Who told you? Did you spy on us?

Nat: ...... I know everything, duh. Now stop deflecting and give me details.

You hesitated for a moment, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard. Then, with a small smile, you replied.

You: It’s… good. Really good. He’s trying so hard, Nat. He’s being so sweet. He’s everything.

Nat: Of course he is. That man’s been in love with you for YEARS.

You: I know, but it’s still scary. What if we mess this up?

Nat: You won’t. Trust me. You’re both too stubborn to let that happen. Now, when are we hanging out? We missed Farmer Market Sundays, and I hate being away from everyone.

You: Friday, at the bar?

Nat: Perfect. I’ll see you then. And don’t worry. You’ve got this babe <3

You smiled, setting your phone down just as the door opened again, Bucky walking in with bags of takeout. His grin was wide, and his eyes sparkled as he held up the food triumphantly.

“Sleepover of the century starts now,” he declared.

And for the first time in years, everything felt truly right.

Wednesday

The café buzzed softly with life—muted chatter, the occasional clink of cups, and the hum of the espresso machine. Wanda sat across from you at a small table near the window, the sunlight catching the caramel streaks in her hair. She handed you your latte with a grin, her eyes twinkling with something knowing.

“You look… happy,” she teased, drawing out the word as she leaned forward on her elbows.

You ducked your head, the warmth in your cheeks impossible to hide. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening. “I’m really happy for you, you know. You and Bucky… it just makes sense.”

You smiled into your cup, taking a sip to mask the emotions her words stirred. “Thanks, Wanda. It’s just… weird, I guess. We’ve been friends for so long, and now it’s different.”

Wanda reached out, her hand warm over yours. “Different doesn’t mean bad. It means growth. And knowing you two, it’ll be beautiful.”

You nodded, her words comforting yet thought-provoking. “It’s just… scary, you know? What if we mess it up? What if this ruins everything?”

Wanda’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as she said your name "You’ve been dancing around each other for years. Do you really think you’re going to mess this up? You two have already been through the worst of it, and you’re still here. That’s not nothing.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I guess you’re right.”

“I am,” she said with a playful grin. Then her expression shifted, a hint of something more serious flickering in her eyes. “But can I ask you something?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Of course.”

“Did you really not know about Natasha’s feelings towards Steve?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Your stomach dropped slightly at the question. “No i didn’t, I feel like a horrible friend, a horrible person how could I have missed it? You knew?”

Wanda nodded, her gaze steady. “Yeah.”

“How long?”

She hesitated, fidgeting with the sleeve of her cup. “A while. Honestly, I don’t even know if I would have figured it out if she hadn’t told me. She’s always been good at hiding stuff like that.. She’s been holding onto it for a while now. Longer than anyone realises.”

The weight of her words settled over you, heavy and unspoken. “What am I supposed to do with that, Wanda?” you asked quietly. “I don’t want her to feel like she’s second best, like she doesn’t matter. She’s my best friend.”

Wanda’s gaze softened, her voice gentle but firm. “There’s nothing you can do. Just like no one could force you and Bucky together. It has to be something Natasha sorts out for herself. And Steve… he’ll move on, eventually. He’s stronger than people give him credit for.”

You let out a breath, your chest feeling tight. “I just hate that all of this is so messy. It feels like everything’s at risk.”

Wanda said your name, leaning forward and fixing you with her warm but steady gaze. “We’re too close, all of us, to let this ruin anything. We’ve been through worse. It might take time, but we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Her words were like a balm, soothing the ache in your chest. You reached out and squeezed her hand in thanks. “What would I do without you?”

Wanda grinned. “Probably spiral into chaos. Now, are you gonna finish that latte or let it go cold?”

You laughed softly, lifting the cup to your lips. “Point taken.”

The apartment smelled divine, the air rich with the aroma of garlic and fresh herbs as you stepped inside. The sight of Bucky in the kitchen made your heart skip a beat. He stood there in a fitted black t-shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms, wearing an apron you’d bought as a joke that said Kiss the Cook. He was stirring something in a pan, his brow furrowed in concentration.

He was humming softly to himself, stirring something in a pan, completely immersed in what he was doing.

“Wow,” you said, leaning against the doorway with a teasing smile. “What’s the occasion, Chef Barnes?”

Bucky turned, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You, doll,” he said easily, leaning one hip against the counter. “Figured I’d whip up something special for my girl.”

His words made your cheeks flush, and you stepped closer. “You’re really setting the bar high here. You sure you’re not trying to win boyfriend of the year?”

“Trying?” he asked, his grin widening. “Sweetheart, I’m already the reigning champ.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. “What’s on the menu, then?”

“Pasta,” he said, nodding toward the stove. “Made the sauce from scratch. None of that jarred stuff for you.”

Your heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of it all. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, you know.”

Bucky shrugged, turning back to the stove. “You’re worth it.”

The simplicity of his statement, the sincerity in his voice, had your chest tightening. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your cheek against his back. “Thank you,” you murmured.

He stilled for a moment, then set the spoon down and turned in your arms to face you. His hands found your waist, his thumbs brushing your sides. “Always,” he said softly, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he teased, flashing you that charming, boyish grin as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. He turned off the stove, plating the pasta with a chef-like flourish, and set the dishes on the table. Pulling out a chair for you, he gestured grandly. “M’lady.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you sat. “Chivalry isn’t dead, huh?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he quipped, settling into the chair across from you.

For a moment, you just watched him, the warm glow of the kitchen light casting a golden halo around him. Your chest tightened with a sudden swell of emotion, a happiness so profound it was almost startling. “I haven’t felt like this in years,” you murmured, your voice soft and vulnerable. “This happy.”

Bucky’s smile softened, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter. “You deserve the world, doll,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “There’s nothing else like this. Nothing else like you.”

The weight of his words settled over you, a warmth spreading through your chest that made your breath hitch. You reached across the table, your fingers finding his. “How do you do that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just… say the exact right thing?”

His grin was lopsided and endearing. “I’ve had years to practice,” he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

Dinner passed in a blur of laughter and lighthearted teasing, the conversation flowing as easily as it always had between you two—but now, there was an added layer of something deeper. Something that had been there all along but was finally allowed to flourish. Every glance he gave you, every fleeting touch, felt like a promise, unspoken but deeply felt.

When the plates were cleared, Bucky leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied you with a soft, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he said, his voice low and intimate, “this is my favorite version of us.”

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Right here,” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “You, me, no walls, no pretending we’re just friends… It feels like this is how it was always supposed to be.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you ducked your head slightly, smiling. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Bucky reached across the table, his hand cupping your chin gently, tilting your face back up to meet his gaze. His eyes searched yours, his voice soft but resolute. “I don’t know how I got lucky enough to have you, but I’m not gonna waste it.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re not the only lucky one, Buck,” you said, leaning into his touch. “We both are.”

After dinner, you moved to the couch, settling beside each other with your legs tangled. Bucky reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve got sauce right… here,” he said, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“Smooth,” you teased, laughing softly.

“What can I say? I’m a gentleman.” His grin was playful, but the way his eyes lingered on yours sent a shiver down your spine. His lips quirked into a small smile, and he leaned forward, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “Let me show you just how lucky I feel.”

Before you knew it, he was leaning in, and you met him halfway. The kiss started slow, his lips warm and soft against yours. But as the moments stretched, it deepened, his hand cupping the back of your head while his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, your heart racing as you slipped your hands beneath the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin. He groaned softly against your lips, his body tensing under your touch.

But then, just as things started to heat up, he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. His breaths were uneven, his hands gentle as they steadied you.

“Wait,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You blinked, your mind still foggy from the kiss. “What’s wrong?” you asked, searching his eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured you, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I just… I want to do this right. With you. I don’t want to rush into anything, even though…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Even though I want this so bad. I want you so bad.”

His words made your chest ache in the best way. You reached up, cradling his face in your hands. “Okay,” you whispered. “We’ll take our time.”

He smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You bit your lip, hesitating before asking, “Bucky… earlier, you said you haven’t been with anyone since that night in college. Is that true?”

His brows furrowed slightly, but he nodded. “Yeah, doll. It’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you. I may have been a jackass, but I’ve never lied to you.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the honesty in his gaze, made your stomach flip. “Me neither,” you admitted quietly.

Bucky blinked, his head tilting slightly. “Wait, what?”

“I haven’t been with anyone either,” you said, your cheeks burning. “Since that night. Dean was the first guy I kissed since then.”

His lips parted in surprise, his voice low as he repeated, “You kissed Dean?”

“Yeah,” you said, fiddling with a loose thread on the couch cushion. “But that’s it. Just a kiss.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment, then a slow, crooked smile spread across his face. “You know what that means, right?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He leaned in, his voice low and full of promise. “It means I’m gonna be the last guy you ever kiss.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as his words sank in. “I hope so,” you whispered.

Bucky didn’t hesitate. He kissed you again, slow and deliberate, as if to seal the promise between you. His hands cradled your face, his lips moving against yours in a way that felt like forever and not long enough all at once.

Thursday

You sat at your desk, staring at your laptop screen, trying to focus on the manuscript in front of you. The office buzzed faintly with the hum of phones ringing and distant chatter, but it all faded into white noise when your phone vibrated. You glanced at it, seeing Sam’s name pop up with a new text.

Sam: Hey, Barnes tell you yet?

You frowned, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

You: Tell me what?

Sam: That I’m gonna kick his ass at darts tomorrow night.

You giggled, rolling your eyes.

You: LOL. You wish.

Sam: Nah, I’m serious. The man’s been smug all week. Like he’s got some big secret or something.

Your stomach did a little flip as you typed your response.

You: …

Sam: Wait a minute. Oh my God. Is the big secret YOU?!

You: … Maybe.

Sam: FINALLY!!!!!!

Before you could even think of a response, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You smiled, answering it with a dry, “Didn’t realize this was so urgent.”

Sam’s voice came through, teasing but warm. “Oh, it’s urgent, alright. I’ve been waiting for this since… I don’t know, forever?”

You laughed softly, leaning back in your chair. “I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”

“I’m not,” Sam shot back, his voice laced with amusement. “I’m just tired of watching you and Barnes do this ridiculous will-they-won’t-they dance. Turns out, y’all finally figured it out.”

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, biting your lip. “It’s… new, of course”

“New, huh?” Sam drawled. “New enough for him to be walking around like he’s king of the world, apparently. You should’ve seen him yesterday—man was smiling so much I thought his face was gonna break.”

The image made you laugh, your heart warming. “That’s… good to hear.”

Sam paused, his tone shifting slightly. “You’re happy though, right? I mean, you’ve been waiting for this.”

You hesitated for a moment before answering, “Yeah, I am. It feels… right. Scary, but right.”

Sam hummed in acknowledgment. “Good. That’s what matters.” There was a beat of silence before he added, “Hey, uh, so I talked to Steve.”

Your stomach tightened at the mention of his name. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s… Steve,” Sam said carefully. “You know how he is. Quiet, keeps everything close to the vest. But I know Friday night hit him hard.”

You sighed, guilt twisting in your chest. “I haven’t really talked to him since. I don’t even know what to say.”

“He’s just gonna need some time,” Sam said gently. “But listen to me—don’t write him off as a friend. Steve’s a good guy. He’ll come around.”

The idea of losing Steve made your throat tighten. “It hurts that you’d think I would. Sam, I—I feel like a horrible friend. How could I have not noticed before?”

Sam’s voice softened, laced with understanding. “Because you were blinded by your feelings for Bucky. Doesn’t make you a bad friend, just human.”

You closed your eyes, swallowing hard. “I hate that I hurt him.”

“I know,” Sam said. “But you can’t carry all the blame. Steve’s strong, and he’ll get through this. He just… he needs to process it on his own.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Do you really think everything’s gonna be okay?”

Sam’s voice was confident, reassuring. “Yeah. You’ve got Bucky now, Steve’s got all of us, and we’ve been through worse. We’re too stubborn to let this group fall apart.”

That made you smile. “You’re annoyingly wise sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam replied smugly. “Now, I’ll see you tomorrow. First one who hangs up doesn’t have to buy the first round.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That’s not fair—”

Click.

You stared at the phone, your smile lingering as you set it down. Somehow, Sam always knew how to make things feel just a little bit lighter.

The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows across the walls. You and Bucky were sprawled on the couch, your legs tangled together as some classic action movie played in the background. It was one of those easy, quiet nights where the world outside seemed to fade away.

Bucky’s arm was draped casually over your shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm. Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you instead of the screen, his lips quirking into that small, soft smile you’d grown to love.

You shifted slightly, resting your head against his chest. “Hey,” you started softly, your voice cutting through the quiet. “Have you, um… seen or talked to Steve since… you know, last Friday?”

Bucky’s fingers paused for a moment before resuming their gentle motion. He let out a quiet sigh. “Yeah,” he said after a beat. “I saw him Wednesday when you were out with Wanda. He was on his way out, so it was real brief.”

“And?” you asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

He shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the TV. “He was fine. I mean, as fine as Steve gets, you know? He nodded at me, said hey, and that was about it.”

Your chest tightened, and you sank back against him, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m nervous about tomorrow,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m excited to see everyone, but… I don’t want things to be weird.”

Bucky finally looked down at you, his brow furrowed. “Things are gonna be weird, doll,” he said, his voice steady but kind. “At least for a little while. But they’ll get better. It’s us, right? We always figure it out.”

You sighed, closing your eyes briefly. “I’ve just… never been in a situation like this before. I don’t know how to handle it. What if Steve doesn’t—what if things aren’t the same anymore?”

Bucky shifted, sitting up slightly so he could face you more fully. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “Steve’s not like that. You know him. He’s always been the solid one, the one who keeps us all together. If anyone can handle this, it’s him.”

You nodded, his words offering some comfort. “I hope you’re right.”

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting the moment. You reached for it, noticing two new messages. One from Sam and the other from Steve. Your stomach fluttered nervously as you opened Sam’s text first.

Sam: I talked to Steve. You have nothing to worry about. He’ll always love you as a friend before anything else. Told him about you and Buck. Hope thats okay?

You exhaled slowly, relief flooding through you as you typed back a quick response.

You: Its okay...Thanks, Sam. I needed that.

Sam: I know you like the back of my hand girl

You snorted, Bucky glanced over, noticing the way your face relaxed. “What’s that?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

“Sam,” you replied. “He said he talked to Steve. Apparently, I have nothing to worry about.”

Bucky nodded, his lips quirking into a small smirk. “Told you.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but before you could respond, your attention shifted to Steve’s message. You opened it, your fingers trembling slightly.

Steve: Hey. Just wanted to check in. Are we okay?

Your heart ached at the simplicity of his question, the weight of everything unsaid behind it. You quickly typed a response.

You: To me? Always, Stevie. You?

His reply came almost instantly.

Steve: Always. Excited to see everyone tomorrow.

You: Me too. You sure?

There was a pause before his response came through.

Steve: I’m sure :)

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then, you added:

You: Thanks, Steve. For always being there. I hope you know I’m always here for you too…

His response was simple but sincere.

Steve: I know. And Always.

You stared at the screen for a long moment, the words settling in your chest like a comforting weight. Bucky shifted beside you, his hand slipping to your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice warm and steady.

You nodded, leaning into him. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Just… thinking about tomorrow. How everything’s going to change.”

Bucky tightened his hold on you, his voice firm but gentle. “Not everything, doll. Some things don’t change.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. “Promise?”

His lips quirked into a soft smile. “Promise.”

As the movie played on in the background, you allowed yourself to sink into the comfort of the moment.

Friday

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes of gold across the room as you finished adjusting your blouse in the mirror. The weight of anticipation pressed lightly on your chest. Tonight would be your first time facing everyone as a couple—or whatever you and Bucky were now.

Leaning against the doorframe, Bucky sipped his coffee, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his hair sticking up from where he’d slept. He looked effortlessly handsome, the kind of sight you’d never get tired of. His easy smile, however, didn’t quite mask the tension in his eyes.

“Ready for tonight?” he asked, breaking the silence. His tone was casual, but there was a cautiousness to the way he looked at you.

You glanced at him in the mirror, smoothing your blouse once more. “I think so. Are you?”

He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “As ready as I’ll ever be. They’re gonna give us so much shit.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “We deserve it.”

He stepped closer, his coffee forgotten on the dresser. His hands found your waist, turning you gently to face him. His touch was steady, grounding. He leaned down, brushing a kiss against your temple. “They’ll love us,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “They already do.”

For a moment, you stared up at him, your heart swelling. His confidence in this—in you, in both of you—was overwhelming in the best way. “You really think so?” you asked softly.

He nodded, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “Babe, they’ve been rooting for us longer than we’ve even known we were a ‘we.’ Trust me.”

You smiled, leaning into him, but your chest still felt tight. You couldn’t help but think of how tonight could be the start of something wonderful—or another complication in your already messy lives.

“Stop overthinking,” Bucky said, reading you like an open book. His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“That ‘I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders’ look,” he teased, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s us.”

“It’s us,” you echoed, the words sinking in. “Okay, fine. You win.”

He grinned. “I always do.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Cocky much?”

His grin turned devilish as his hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer. “What can I say? You bring it out of me.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his lips met yours, soft and slow at first, like he was savoring the moment. But the kiss deepened quickly, his hands tightening around you as if he couldn’t stand the distance. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing against him as your breaths mingled.

He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, his voice rough with want. “I just can’t keep my hands off you.”

You laughed softly, your forehead resting against his. “Remember, you’re the one who wanted to move slow.”

He chuckled, the sound low and addictive. “Don’t remind me. It’s torture.”

You leaned up, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before stepping back, smoothing your blouse again. “Good thing you’ve got that Bucky Barnes patience, huh?”

“Barely,” he admitted, his eyes still locked on you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

As you grabbed your bag, he reached out, brushing his fingers against yours. “I’ll see you at work?”

“Of course,” you replied, turning back to give him a smile. “We’re walking to the bar together after, right?”

Bucky nodded, his expression softening into something achingly tender. “I’m never leaving your side again, so yes. Always.”

Your chest tightened, his words resonating deeper than you expected. With one last smile, you stepped out the door, the warmth of his presence lingering with you all the way to work.

[tetsuooooooooooo]

ok im watching act 3 again to write down my questions and see if anything makes sense this time

edit im 2 eps in this got long as FUCK kjchgxhi come talk to me!!!!! im screeching into the void!!!!!!! americans wake up look at my post!!!!!!!! say everything to me!!!!!!!!!

why are we introducing time travel alternate universes into this story

where did the other ekko go, was he in Our ekkos universe/body or just out of commission, bc that makes no sense i think, if they didnt switch then wheres the ✨symmetry✨

do you think that skye had anything to do with them figuring out the cleaning flowers thing in the AU? and is viktor dead? and jayce in jail? banished? i wonder where skye went here i hope shes living her best not in love with a gay guy life

where the FUCK was the Original-AU heimerdonger when he got bodysnatched by the Our version? they do still call him professor but in Our version he just recently got kicked out of the council so would he still be just freeloadin around zaun at that point in the AU? was he ever councilor?

can everyone on my screen Please stop hurling their guts out from timetraveldisease

if theres no hextech and no anomaly in the AU reality then how did it throw them in it in the first place

ekko is smart but if he was smarter hed stay around to research what needed to happen to make zaun work in this version and save himself time figuring it out from the groundup back home, i think

but also what the fuck COULD have possibly happened to make it so different CUZ LIKE- ok the little flashback bit with vi dying in jayces house- the gang is wearing the same clothes as in Our version, so that would probably indicate that THAT zaun was also in the same state as Our ""original"" version too? right? no? i mean i would say they did put emphasis on clag n mylos clothes being different and more piltovian or whatever idk maybe im onto nothing WAIT NO BECAUSE CLAGGOR WAS MAKING THE DAMN FLOWER TO CLEAN THE POLLUTION SO IF THATS STILL THERE THEN IT COULDNT HAVE BEEN RESOLVED THAT MUCH EARLIER HERE RIGHT

also what the fuck had to be different exactly for enforcers to bust the kids after blowing up a building and not chuck them all in stillwater this time around? did they really care that much about vi dying? was that really the inciting incident for zauns inclusion? marcus? fucking MARCUS marcus? marcus "im gonna bury the lot of you" "deals with the devil to get a 14 yearold put in jail for life"* marcus sees a zaunite girl dead (after breaking into a piltover home and wrecking it) and just goes "aw :c" ? the council of rich businessfucks like salo whod do everything they can to maintain the status quo? is One Dead Kid (still the name of my nonexistent band) really all it takes this time? am i too tough on these people am i dumb if id like some elaboration on how that whole story went or

*to be honest i. dont really get what that Deal thing with silco was about in the first place

wheres Scar aaaat show me my guyy whERES VIKAAA

how did the shimmer story end up in the AU because IF the main change here is vis death then i could believe that silco WAS still already on track with beginning the production at that point if of course singed is also in the same position as Originally

is there a universe where that hammer lands on jayjays head and ends him right there

did silco forgive vanvan before or after zaun gets their "win" in the AU? because my bet is DEFINITELY after

ALSO how the fuck in a city like piltover did they not renovate jayces blown up flat after fuck knows how many years, at LEAST 3 (id wager at least 7 but thats just me so whatever) like city of progress who?? is it just there as like a cautionary tale??? did they put up a lil plaque for jayce after he kild himself?? they just boarded that shit up tho there was nobody there?? why did they leave it like that idk

WHY did heimerdeimer die???? DID he die?? why did he DIE?????? what happens to the AU-Original hongerdonger??? you couldnt have just waited 10 minutes and have powder do allat?? she trusted us right? maybe not

why WAS bonking viktor in the head with the zdrive the answer to our problems

powder knew what she was doing with that innovators cum petition sign right

WHAT the FUCK was that mylo claggor moment like am i inSANE OR WAS THIS SUS AS HELL also (man rapping) put some FUCKING RESPECT on stromaes name

how DID rizzard viktor stop being purple actually. god i still hate that reveal im not smart but i refuse to believe that was good writing

what happened to put that rock in jayces wrist? it wasnt a process it was viktor doing it in a split second why did that need to happen? so he wouldnt lose it? hunh?

no because WHAT IS AMBESSAS FUCKING GOAL HERE IN THE END

does she want kino back? whAT DO YOU WANT WOMANNNN

did that princess girl that got her head sliced off by bessa in the first season actually have anything to do with anything in the end or not cuz im just confuzzled

how does he know that

what does that mean

how does SHE know THAT

what does THAT mean

does loris have the same accent as vik??????

where the fuck did that ginger binch come from in the first place is she from piltover or noxus if shes from piltover what did ambessa give her and when

Neither of them would say ANY of this shit

wonder what vi would say if she saw this conversation before her and cait decided to pork

im just gonna choose to believe she was in there for like 5 hours so her labrador attention span just reset and she chilled out about jinx (actually ykw i guess im willing to believe at this point she doesnt really care that much if jinky offs herself or not)

what the FUCK ARE these goddamn doll puppet thingies viktor makes why are they LIKE that why is THIS the theme here (because orianna and Plot) (but like dyouknow what i mean)

what the fuck was the point of Skye Young as a character in this entire story other than a Gaydar Jammer. with all respect to skyvik stans but like. what is it.

lmao you abandoned them much before that guys

we stan a I Gave You Food And A Roof Why Are You Sad You Ungrateful Ingrate queen

it REALLY DOESNT DOES IT JGHCCGHIBC

why DID skye die again? they wouldnt have just? integrated? again? or smthn? why is this a one-passenger ride all of a sudden? we already got a hivemind thing goin? whatsup?

[silverskye13]

Doodle dump! Because I've got a lot of stuff kicking around and I like some of these sketches.

Bottom one is one of my OC refs for Art Fight. Assuming I finish it XD Better late than never I guess.

[seiwas]

SEL MY SEL …….. crawling over here for the ask game …………… you already know . who i’m going to ask for phdkdjdkdb IN MY DEFENSE I WILL NEVER GET OVER YOUR VERSION OF HIM !!!!!!!

….. sugu ….. with ’sun’ ……. maybe 👉👈

(🍵 <- a little matcha for your troubles … good luck with the writing exercises my loveee <33 i’m cheering you on!!!)

ARI 🥹🥹🥹🥹 hehe ofc i shall write sugu for u! writing him is always so fun 🥹 thank you for the prompt, and for the matcha!! i will be sipping it as i write this 🥹 it is not a trouble at alllll!! esp if it's for youuuuu 🫶

contains: beautiful, gorgeous, sexy neighbor suguru, mood can be a bit unsettling... honestly a little stockholm syndrome-y (does this count as dark? idk 😭), skewed concept of reality and time

suguru + sun

you move into a new neighborhood on your 24th birthday.

it's a quaint house, fully furnished with wooden panels lining its contemporary build. you consider yourself lucky for finding a place this well-kept at the price point you offered. you're honestly surprised that suguru, your now landlord, accepted your application.

the area sits a few kilometers on the outskirts of the city, but it feels neither too quiet nor too busy; a perfect balance with an impressive view of the rising sun this early in the morning. that, and the people seem friendly, greeting you as they pass by. they even offer to help you haul things out of your car and into the house.

to the right of your house is one that holds the same design elements at yours, although a bit darker in its tones. it's sleek and modern, befitting of a bachelor.

"you must be the new tenant," a voice speaks from behind you, syrupy and smooth. you didn't even hear his footsteps.

when you turn around, you're met with a tall man who greets you with his arms held behind his back as he tilts his head low. there's a calmness that radiates off him, a sort of gentleness that signals he’s someone you can trust.

you nod, introducing yourself with your hand outstretched towards him.

"suguru," he replies as his fingers grab yours delicately. your eyes widen in surprise, recognizing the name, and he merely chuckles in return, a soft laugh that brings out kindness in his eyes.

"i should greet you properly," he lets go of your hand, placing it back behind him. "hello, new neighbor."

.

over shared breakfasts by your porch and impromptu dinners over at his, you grow a liking to suguru. he's polite and thoughtful, often knocking at your door in the mornings to offer you a cup of tea to watch the sunrise.

"you'll only find sunrises like this here," he leans back on the wooden chair you set out as outdoor furniture. his head tilts towards you slightly, impossibly close as you notice the corner of his lips curl up into a small grin.

hues of pinks, purples, and orange blend to illuminate his face perfectly. the sun is beautiful in front you, peeking between clouds as it inches away from the horizon, but something about him is infinitely more magnetic. your stare is immediately drawn to his lips, smooth and supple, before it meets his gaze.

you don't know what's worse―wanting to lean in or be pulled by the look in his eyes.

he fixes things that break in your home, always somehow knowing just when to show up. at first, it was your windows, the one by the attic, too high and dangerous for you to climb; then, it was your kitchen sink, its pipes regurgitating the water going down the drain. he's begun to bring you your groceries too, often asking for a list of what you need when he makes trips out of town.

your days blur easily when you're with suguru, and time passes almost fleetingly as you find your hours filled with soft laughs and touches so delicate you sometimes wonder whether they're real.

it should be noted, you think, how much time has passed since you first met him―an anniversary of some sort.

.

you learn that he owns both houses―his and the one you're currently renting. it once belonged to a friend who had to move for bigger, greater responsibilities elsewhere, he'd said.

"why did you decide on renting?" you ask him one night, over wine and candlelight.

your fingers fiddle with his as he sits you on his lap, this thing between you growing more intimate lately. he rubs his thumb along your thigh, resting his chin by your shoulder.

"you could have sold it or something."

he presses his lips gently on your collarbone.

"i could've," his fingers trail up to your waist, crossing your chest before landing on your chin, cupping it lightly to face him. your heart is hammering in your chest, senses on fire as his nose kisses yours. you think you can count every mole that dots his face beautiful. then, he inches closer, lips grazing yours as he whispers, "but i was waiting for you."

.

you mark each day at sunrise.

your digital clocks and calendars stopped working after some time, but you don't mind. suguru always tells you what date it is when you ask.

this morning, you wake up in his bed, and the sun is still as breathtaking as you remember it, the same pink, purple, and orange hues streaming through his window. when you look closely, the clouds―

"good morning," he brings you tea in bed, his hair topped off with a bun, a half-up-half-down.

your stomach fills itself with something warm and fuzzy as you smile at him, "morning."

"slept well?" his hand reaches for your waist under the duvet, and you giggle, ticklish.

"very," you crane your neck to land a soft kiss on his lips. "what date is it today?"

"october 28," he supplies.

your eyebrows shoot up as you realize, "i have to bring my car to the mechanic."

it's been 6 months now since your last check, right before you moved, and though you barely use your car anyway, it's best to be safe.

you quickly move to get up but suguru's hand keeps you in place, firmly pressed on your waist.

"i'll do it," he says with a smile on his face, "you rest here."

.

you barely see your other neighbors except for the girl who smokes a pack of cigarettes a day and the twins down the street.

when you ask suguru about it, he dismisses the question quickly, saying, "must have moved," as he urges you to take another sip of your tea.

you dream of them that night, on bare streets; it wakes you in a cold sweat, the image of your neighborhood reduced to just your house and suguru's.

.

this is the 200th sunrise since you started counting, which means this is the 200th day since you and suguru officially got together. kind of.

your gift for him is a painting of the sunrise, because it reminds you of him; and because it's become your favorite thing to look forward to, too.

the pinks and purples blend together beautifully as it contrasts with the orange hues, and the sun continues to peak above the horizon as it settles between clouds.

suguru kisses you when you give it to him, the taste of tea right on his tongue.

he frames it on his bedside, and when you wake in his room the next morning, it greets you along with the back of his head, fast asleep.

your eyes flit to the view outside his window, the same pinks, purples, and orange hues. you tilt your head curiously, brows furrowing. the sun stays at the same spot above the horizon, and when you look at the painting again, the clouds hold the same position and shape.

a chill washes over you, your hearbeat pounding.

.

"what date is it today?" you ask suguru as you wash the potatoes in the sink.

another bag of groceries from suguru. now that you think about it, you don't think you've ever gone to the grocery store since moving.

"is it important?" he responds, slightly snappy. you've begun to notice that he hates it when you ask lately.

you eye him from the side.

"i was thinking of preparing a menu of what we'll eat during the holidays, if it's near."

the furrow on his brows smooths out as you give your answer, and so he says, "december 5."

and you know something is wrong, because that can't be it. it doesn't make sense with the sunrises you've counted.

.

you dream again, more and more as the days go by―dirt roads and your house and suguru's, run-down and empty. more things start breaking in your apartment, and suguru always knows when they need to be fixed.

there's a deep, twisting feeling in your stomach that intensifies, festering under your skin; it worsens in the mornings, when you sit with suguru at your porch and you think you see a crack in the sunrise.

.

sunrise valley the place where the sun never sets! ─── beautiful, bright, and destined for people who live just like you! find your new home here.

[DISCONTINUED] — FOR DEMOLITION ON DECEMBER 7. under investigation for suspicious spiritual activity and missing persons.

[skitskatdacat63]

Pictures from the 2023 Brazil Post-Race that made me psychologically and physcially and emotionally unwell:

[perilegs]

i'm trying to watch a trans guy critique some video game trans rep bc i'm interested in hearing more trans ppl talk about it. but he's very. i'm paraphrasing here but "why would anyone ever in a million years want their rpg character to have top surgery scars. isnt that a constant reminder to you and everyone around you about how you were born" and "you don't work on transitioning. you just need hormone treatment and possibly some--"

[retros-artandstuff]

homestuck doodle dump

[pen-papers]

Accidentally clicking QUIT instead on CONTINUE after finally reaching the top of Death Mountain in OOT

Remembering that there's the secret path back to Goron city through the Lost Woods

[liquidstar]

oc req i got from a friend on cohost for these two hanging out! which eventually turned into me thinking "what if this is just saiph walking up to ramus unprompted on Guild Beach Day, but ramus fully forgot who he was since they last met" and that concept was funny enough to me that thats what the drawing became

but still, here's an edited (technically original) version under the cut bc i think eventually they start to talk for real anyway lol

[pikkish]

idk if this is a good prompt but put doomguy in myhouse.wad I think he would find it enriching

Right, so I've been mulling on this one for a little bit now, n I'm not opposed to writing something for you, I'm just not... entirely sure what to write? Because the thing is, myhouse.wad doesn't actually really have anything to do with Doom as a story. Sure, Doom is important in that it's the vessel through which the story is told and one of the connections between the narrator and his dead companion. But as far as Doom itself goes, and the story about a man who was too angry/stupid to die, fighting demons and saving earth, none of that is at all relevant to myhouse.wad and its story. For all intents and purposes, Doomguy isn't actually a character in myhouse.wad. So I'm not really sure how exactly to fit him in there.

[suffarustuffaru]

ok but im getting emo over heinkel again so im gonna talk about him again because yeah hes yet another sad character in a sea of sad characters and i love rezero for that but like he is a character consistently characterized by one loss after the other. it's a rollercoaster and its going straight fucking down and he is so miserable and absolutely alone and its both his fault and not his fault at all. but the way it starts is - its all out of his control. the more you think about the trajectory of his life the sadder it gets.

imagine you are heinkel and your parents are the sword saint and the sword demon and you come from a long line of knights and sword saints so thats almost definitely where youre headed, right? thats whats expected of you. you are nineteen years old and youre a knight in the royal guard, which was expected of you, and you have a wife and a beautiful baby boy, which was also expected of you, but at least you have so much joy and love for the latter while the former is just another chain on the astrea family line of people who are stuck to knighthood whether they like it or not. but your family is also just another chain because youre nineteen and your mother is still the sword saint and youre playing with fate here because either youre going to be the sword saint or your son will be.

your wife, the only equal you have, falls asleep one day and never wakes up. you are twenty-one years old and a single parent and then you are twenty-three years old and your son's fate is so much bigger than youll ever be. having the worlds love means that your love pales in comparison, doesnt it? everyone knows about your comatose wife because you keep searching so much for a cure that its just another thing to gossip about. every year that passes by she just continues to look the same as she did when she was awake and alive and loved you. (you dont know it yet but your son is going to reach the same age as her, because you dont find a cure for another sixteen years and you know that she wont love you anymore because who does? theres no one left because your son doesnt count.)

and everyone knows about you because of your family. because yeah, youre a good swordsman, but youre not liked by anyone in the knights. youre not a friend and youre certainly not a sword saint or sword demon. your son mind controls someone because he loves you so much that he would do anything for you and looks up to you like youre some hero, but youre just a wreck whos scrambling to keep what little you have. youre twenty-four and you lose your mom because you were too scared to go on the mission you were assigned on, because youre a coward and youre in over your head and you know, because everyone knows, that you dont measure up. you could never be prepared for this. in a long line of people who have to carry the weight of the world, you crumble easily. your mom goes on that mission and dies and your son becomes the sword saint like this was always going to happen. this is what being loved by the world means. you just killed your mom because you just couldnt suck it up and die on that mission instead. on top of that, your dad says that your five-year-old god of a son killed your mom. its just you and your son and the two of you both killed your mom but youre the worlds biggest laughing stock and your son is the up and coming hero and monster. but you still love your son. you really do.

right?

[scarycranegame]

getting evil with it today. but actually what else is new

[carcarrot]

i guess im being offered the job lol

[phonification]

little comp of my favorite doodles ive done at school these past few weeks !!

bluh

[puppyeared]

[voidimp]

maybe now that i have adhd meds i can attempt Language again