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redroomreflections · 2 months ago

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Her Best Secret Part 4

1950s Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and R are two married woman having an affair

w/c: 4.9k

Part 1

Warnings: Hetero Sex, Slight Violence, Angst, homophobia

Note: If you don't like angst don't read

Being in love is surreal. It’s nice. It makes you feel alive. The butterflies in your belly never seem to settle. The flowers bloom like never before. The sun shines brighter. Your senses feel heightened with every brush of skin, every lingering glance.

Being in love is what humans are made for. To love is to be loved.

Being in love behind your husband’s back… well, that’s a bit harder to sell.

You wish you could say you never meant for this to happen, but that would be a lie. It was never supposed to be easy. It wasn’t supposed to feel this impossible, either.

Early morning showers were your favorite. They gave you a moment of peace before the house wakes up. A quiet moment before Claire’s cartoons fill the air before Sam’s voice calls your name. Just you, the warm water, and the illusion that everything is simple.

But today, it didn’t feel peaceful. It felt suffocating. The steam clung to your skin; no matter how hard you scrubbed, you couldn’t wash away the guilt. Or the want.

You pressed your forehead against the cool tile, exhaling sharply.

What were you doing?

You already knew the answer. You’dknown it since the first time Natasha kissed you. Since the first time she pulled you into her arms. Since the first time you realized you loved her.

You were thinking with your heart and not your head. You were thinking of yourself without any regard for others. It was a confusing feeling. It should be exciting and thrilling. Which it was. But also scary. It was overwhelming. It was terrifying.

How did this happen? How did you let this happen? You love your husband. You've always loved your husband. And you love your daughter—more than anything.

So how was it possible that you also love her?

How was it possible that you fell in love with a woman you've known for years but never truly met until a few months ago?

Sam made you happy. Sam loved you. Sam married you. He gave you a home and a family.

Natasha makes you happy, too.

God, she makes you so incredibly happy.

Maybe that's why you were terrified. You'd never felt this kind of happiness before—this kind of love.

And the worst part was that it wasn’t a competition. You didn’t love Sam less because of Natasha. And you certainly didn’t love Natasha more because of Sam.

This wasn’t supposed to be hard. This isn't supposed to feel complicated. This wasn’t supposed to tear you apart.

"Hey," Sams's gruff voice startled you as he poked his head into the shower curtain. "Mind if I join you?"

You shook your head.

He stepped inside, and you backed up a few inches to accommodate him. You're standing toe to toe, bare and wet.

The shower wasn’t big enough for the two of you, and he had to keep his arms at his side because if he lifted them, he'd touch you.

It wasn’t the ideal setup. You didn't care before. How close you were to him. You didn't care about silly things like personal space.

Now, everything mattered. Everything felt like a test. Everything felt like a mistake.

He tilted his head to the side and studied your face. His eyes narrowed as he reached forward and grabbed your arm.

"What's on your mind?" He asked.

"Nothing," You lied. "I'm just a bit tired. Maybe I'm coming down with something."

"Hmm," He hummed. He reached forward to kiss your forehead. "You feel pretty good to me."

"Thanks, I think."

He chuckled.

"Come here," He wrapped his arms around you.

It was awkward and uncomfortable, but you didn’t push him away. You didn’t tell him to stop.

Because this was Sam. Your Sam. And even though you're in love with Natasha, you're still in love with Sam.

"I love you," He whispered, kissing your lips.

"I love you too," You kissed him back. You know where this is going. You and Sam had sworn off shower sex long ago. It was too slippery and much too dangerous. Standing there with him, though, you couldn't say no in his space. You didn't want to say no. "Sam,"

He pressed his forehead against yours. "I've got you,"

And then he kissed you again.

The shower was forgotten. The guilt and the want were forgotten. The world was forgotten.

There was only Sam and his warm, safe, loving embrace.

It wasn't the shower that washed away the guilt. As he pressed you against the tiles, you allowed yourself to react to his hands. His touch was familiar.

"You're so beautiful," He murmured.

"Yeah?" You questioned as his hands traveled along your body.

He kissed your neck. He sucked the skin, marking you as his own. You moaned.

"Please,"

"Anything,"

You knew the second he was inside you that the guilt would come back. And it did. But then, you could pretend it didn't exist. When he lifted you in his arms to get a better angle, you could imagine a life where nothing had changed.

A life where Natasha had never entered the picture.

A life where things were simple and easy.

But a life like that didn't exist.

You couldn't have both.

"Oh God," He groaned.

"Sam, Sam, Sam," You repeated his name like a prayer.

When he came, so did you. You clung to him. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, your head buried in his neck, your breath hot on his skin. You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes. You were still thinking of her. Still imagining you were in her arms and not his.

"Sam," You sniffled. Quickly adjusting your positions, you dropped your leg so that you were firmly planted on both feet.

"Yeah?" He panted.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

*******

The bell above the diner door jingled as another occupant stepped inside. Wanda crossed her legs, adjusting herself in the booth, trying not to display her discomfort. This place was nothing special - vinyl booths, checkered floors, and the sounds of a tiny boombox playing from the end of the hall. Natasha had been there before and invited her. A cigarette sat between her fingers, untouched but smoldering. She had a way of making herself look relaxed even when she wasn't

"Thanks for inviting me here," Wanda smiled gratefully. "Between the twins and Vision, I don't get out much."

Natasha smirked, tapping the cigarette against the ashtray. "Figured you could use a break. Motherhood’s a hell of a thing, ain't it?"

Wanda exhaled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It is. Rewarding, but exhausting." She tilted her head slightly. "Still… doesn’t seem like you to call me out for something like this."

The waitress approached, setting down a steaming cup of coffee before Wanda and refilling Natasha’s without asking. She gave the redhead a polite smile—one Natasha didn’t return.

"That so?" Natasha murmured once they were alone again.

Wanda blew on her coffee, observing Natasha over the rim. "Yeah. It is."

Natasha finally took a sip of her coffee, leaning back against the booth, her free arm stretched along the seat. "Can’t a girl just want some company?"

"Of course," Wanda shrugged. "I didn't mean to assume. It's just that you and y/n are usually attached to the hip. We've never truly hung out alone. Not in ages."

"We used to."

"Right, right. I remember. Those were the days, huh? We had some good times together."

Natasha nodded slowly. "We did. Things were simple back then. Easy."

"Are they not easy now?" Wanda raised a brow.

"You're a loyal friend," Natasha guessed.

"To a fault, yes," Wanda nodded.

"So loyal that you haven't brought up what you saw or heard even to me."

Wanda stiffened, fingers tightening ever so slightly around her coffee cup. She held Natasha’s gaze, searching for any sign of playfulness, but found none.

"Should I have?" Wanda asked carefully.

Natasha shrugged, tapping ash from her cigarette. "Most would’ve."

"I'm not most people," Wanda said plainly.

"No," Natasha agreed, studying her. "You're not."

Silence stretched between them, tense and unspoken.

"You gonna tell me what you want me to say?" Wanda finally asked.

Natasha smirked, but there was something tired in it. "A confession, a scolding, a warning—take your pick."

Wanda sighed, setting her cup down. "You love her." Her voice lowered.

It wasn’t a question.

Natasha inhaled slowly, flicking her cigarette against the ashtray again. "Yeah."

"You’re playing with fire," Wanda warned.

Natasha finally looked away, exhaling smoke through her nose. "I know."

Wanda hesitated, glancing toward the door as if checking for prying eyes. "Steve and Sam don’t know."

"Not yet," Natasha murmured.

"But they will," Wanda said. "Secrets don’t stay buried forever, not in this town."

Natasha hummed in agreement but didn’t offer anything more.

Wanda shook her head. "And when they do, you think you can handle the fallout?"

Natasha turned back to her, a small, almost wistful smile on her lips. "Doesn’t matter. Damage is already done."

"She's a woman," Wanda began, but she couldn't find the words. This was Ohio in the 1950s.

Natasha leaned forward, stubbing her cigarette out. "Don’t,"

Wanda sighed, rubbing her forehead. "You can't expect this to be a secret forever. You have families. There's a child involved."

"I'm aware."

"So you're prepared? For whatever comes next?"

Natasha swallowed thickly.

Wanda watched her, a deep sadness settling over her. She didn't have the words. What could she say that would make things easier? What could she say that wouldn't make things more complicated?

"I'm sorry."

Natasha closed her eyes briefly. "It's not your fault. Just promise me you won't say anything?"

Wanda looked down, tracing the handle of her cup. "You have my word."

"Thank you," Natasha's voice cracked.

She couldn't bear to say anything else.

Not here.

Not now.

******

Steve never minded running errands. He enjoyed getting things done and checking items off a lengthy task list. Natasha always had something waiting for him whenever he got too busy with work. He’d be apologetic and get to it whenever he could. It was usually simple stuff—mowing the lawn and cleaning out the garage—nothing out of the ordinary.

This time, it was the car. Buddy’s Auto Shop had been expecting it for a tune-up. He was almost out the door when he remembered something. Weeks ago, Natasha mentioned her wedding ring needed resizing. He figured he’d swing by the jeweler while he waited for the car.

Keys in hand, he pivoted and headed upstairs to their bedroom. Her perfume still lingered in the air. He liked that. Doing something nice for her, even small, made him feel good.

He checked her nightstand first. Nothing. Then, the vanity. He never really went through her things, so he wasn’t sure where to look. The dresser drawer stuck slightly when he pulled it open. Inside, the usual clutter—loose change, an old receipt, a tube of lipstick rolling in the corner. No ring.

His fingers brushed against something different—a small, leather-bound book. The spine was worn and creased from being handled often. He picked it up, wondering if the ring had fallen underneath, but his attention snagged on a photo slipping from between the pages.

Huh.

Their wedding picture. He always liked that one. Maybe she was making some kind of scrapbook? Natasha wasn’t sentimental, but she always found new ways to surprise him.

He almost put the book back. Almost.

But curiosity got the best of him.

Just one page.

His thumb flipped it open to the bookmarked section. The first line hit like a punch to the gut.

"I never meant to fall in love with her. I never meant for us to be this close. Her smell. Her eyes. Her touch. When she looks at me like that, I forget the life I built before. I forget my name."

Steve’s grip tightened around the pages. His eyes scanned for a name, some clue, anything that told him this wasn’t what it seemed.

But there was nothing.

Just Natasha. And someone who wasn’t him.

The book hit the vanity with a thud. His breath felt too heavy, too loud in the room's quiet. He ran a hand down his face.

Natasha was in love.

And not with him.

*****

Steve paced the length of the bedroom, back and forth, for what felt like forever. His mind was a whirlwind of scenarios, each worse than the last. Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe this was something Natasha was writing—fiction, not a confession. None of it was real. It couldn’t be. Because if it was, then he was a fool. The faithful husband hoped his wife wasn’t stepping out on him.

His jaw clenched as he ran through the possibilities. Who could it be? It had to be someone he knew. Natasha didn’t talk to strangers easily. That was one of the things he always admired about her—her ability to keep a close-knit circle despite being distant. But had that distance been because of him? Had she grown tired of his late nights, his unwavering predictability?

Steve forced himself to reason. He went over names.

Diane from three doors down? No.

Wanda Maximoff? No, not her type.

Not that he even knew what Natasha’s type was regarding women.

Then, his stomach twisted.

You.

His fingers trembled as he opened the book again, flipping through pages, scanning for confirmation. There was no name. Not once did Natasha write your name. But the descriptions are so vivid and specific. He knew.

It all made sense.

His grip tightened around the book before he snapped it shut. His anger burned white-hot beneath his skin, but he refused to let it take over. He needed to think and be smart about this.

So, he made two phone calls.

One to you.

And one to Natasha.

He needed answers. Now.

*******

“Mama, a worm!” Claire said excitedly, stepping barefoot through the garden. Her little toes were practically covered in dirt as she explored, utterly unbothered by the mess.

You were absentmindedly pulling weeds from your flower bed when she toddled over, holding up the squirming creature with pride.

“Oh, dear, please put that down,” you said, scrunching your nose. It wasn’t genuine annoyance—just amazement at how fearless she was.

“Hey, how about some lemonade?” Sam called from the porch. “And maybe those sandwiches you like? I can try my hand at it.”

“Oh, I would love sandwiches, Daddy,” Claire lisped, clutching the worm. “See?”

Sam chuckled as he made his way down the steps. “Always an adventurer,” he mused, crouching next to her. “Are you scaring your Mama with those things?”

Claire giggled, wiggling her toes in the dirt.

You wiped your hands on your shorts, shaking your head with a small smile. “She’s fearless, that’s for sure.”

Claire beamed, utterly unaware of the slight wriggle of the worm in her grasp. “It tickles!” she giggled, watching it squirm.

Sam laughed, stepping off the porch and walking toward the two of you. He bent down, ruffling Claire’s hair. “Alright, kiddo. How about we let Mr. Worm go back to his family?”

Claire pouted, but after a moment, she carefully placed the worm back into the soil. “Bye, Mr. Worm,” she whispered before returning to Sam. “Can we still have sandwiches?”

“Of course,” Sam grinned. “I’m about to make the best sandwiches you’ve ever had.”

You raised an eyebrow, standing up and dusting off your knees. “That’s a bold statement.”

Sam smirked. “You doubt my skills?”

“I’ve seen you burn toast, Sam.”

Claire giggled, clinging to his leg. “Daddy, don’t burn the sandwiches!”

“Okay, okay,” Sam threw his hands up in surrender. “No burnt sandwiches, I promise.”

You chuckled, kissing Claire’s forehead before glancing up at Sam. “I’ll come help you. Just to make sure we don’t end up with a disaster.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Wow. No faith in me at all.”

You shrugged playfully. “Not when it comes to cooking.”

Claire ran ahead toward the house, already excited for lunch, and you followed to grab her arms quickly.

"You are not stepping on my clean floors with those feet, Missy," You shook your head. "Nuh-uh, I'm going to hose you down right out back."

"Mama, no!" She protested, laughing as you scooped her into your arms.

"Mama, yes," You grinned, carrying her to the hose. "You're lucky I'm not washing you with a bar of soap, little girl."

"I don't smell that bad!"

"Oh yeah?" You challenged, putting her down. "How about you give me a big hug and a kiss, and I can be the judge of that?" Claire fell into your arms, leaving a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

"I'll get started on the sandwiches," Sam didn't linger. He was hungry, too.

"Good idea," You winked. You reached for the hose, turning it into a gentle spray, and directed it towards her toes.

"Mama!" Claire cried as the cool water splashed against her feet. "it's cold." She shivered.

"I'm sorry, kitten, it's just for a second," You cooed. "Just a quick wash."

You hosed her feet, cleaning the dirt off her little toes. In the distance, you could hear the phone ring.

"Sam?" You called.

"Got it," He yelled back.

"Now, who could be calling us on a Saturday afternoon?" You mainly said to yourself.

"Maybe it's Grandma Joyce," Claire shrugged. "She likes to talk."

"That she does," You laughed, grabbing the towel. "Maybe wear shoes next time you decide to explore, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am."

You kissed her nose.

You carried Claire into the house, kissing her cheeks and making her giggle. Her little arms wrapped around your neck, clinging to you as you stepped inside.

As you crossed the threshold, you saw Sam hanging up the house phone. The old rotary dial clicked as it settled back into place.

“Who was that?” you asked, shifting Claire in your arms.

Sam glanced up, his easygoing expression slightly strained. “No one important.”

He turned to the counter, focusing on the sandwiches, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

Claire wiggled in your hold. “Can I help, Daddy?”

Sam smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How about you play in your room for a bit, sweetheart? I’ll call you when lunch is ready.”

Claire pouted. “But I wanna help.”

“I know, peanut,” Sam said, ruffling her damp curls. “But Mama and I need to talk for a minute. Just grown-up stuff.”

You watched as Claire’s little face scrunched up in protest, but Sam had a way of persuading her. “Tell you what,” he said, crouching to her level. “You pick out a book, and we’ll read it together after lunch. Even the long ones.”

Claire considered this, then nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”

She kissed you quickly on the cheek before scampering off down the hall, her bare feet pattering against the wooden floor.

When she was out of sight, you turned to Sam, crossing your arms. “Alright. What’s going on?”

He let out a slow breath, wiping his hands on a dish towel before finally meeting your gaze. There was something different in his eyes—something guarded.

"Six years together, and I thought I knew everything about you," He said.

"What?"

"Why?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." You shook your head.

"Tell me now!" He asked again, slamming his hand on the counter. "The truth, goddamnit."

"Sam, I swear I-"

"You've been seeing someone," He interrupted. "For months. A woman."

You felt the blood drain from your face. Your knees felt weak. This was the end, wasn't it?

"Sam,"

"Answer me!"

"I..."

He closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. "That's it, huh? You can't even deny it."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "You've had that woman here under my nose for months, and you're sorry?"

"Sam,"

"What could she possibly have given you that I haven't?" He demanded, stepping forward. "What has she done for you that I haven't?"

"Please," You took a step back.

"Is it the sex? Is that what's got you going?" He stepped closer to you. "Or are you so stupid to ruin your life for no reason?"

"Sam, stop."

"Or is it something else? Are you in love with her?" He pressed. "Tell me now." His voice was louder, making you jump.

"Sam," You repeated, swallowing thickly.

"You have a daughter," He reminded. "We have a daughter."

"Sam, I know, but if you'd just let me-"

"There's nothing you can say," He shouted. He was getting angrier by the minute. You'd never seen him so angry. "She's been in our home. Our fucking home. She's been watching Claire. She's been touching our daughter. Infecting you. Breaking what we have apart. Did you think about that when you were fucking her?"

"I-" You choked, tears forming in your eyes. "Don't say that."

"What? The truth? That's what's happening, isn't it?" He stepped closer, but you didn’t even realize your back was against the counter. "You're fucking her."

"Don't touch me," You slapped his hand away when he reached for you.

"I can't believe you." He was shaking his head.

"Please, just calm down,"

"Calm down?" He scoffed, grabbing your arm. "How can I calm down when you're being so reckless, huh? Do you have any idea what you've done? I knew I shouldn't have moved you here. I should have listened to my parents."

"You knew this was coming."

"I knew I should've married someone more like Diane."

You tried to pull away, but he held onto you. "Stop. Don't say that. I'm not a mistake. Sam, just talk to me."

"Talk? You want to talk?" He asked, backing away from you before swiping his hand across the table. The plate clattered to the floor, shattering.

"Sam, don't,"

"Shut up," He snapped. Another bout of anger has him almost in your face again.

"Sam, Claire's here," You told him brokenly. "She's here and doesn't need to see you like this."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Sam, please."

"This is your fault, y/n," He growled. "You did this. You're the one who wanted to move here. You're the one who has been sleeping around. You're the one who's fucking a woman."

"Sam, enough," You pleaded.

"God, I just..." He breathed. "I'm leaving."

"What? Sam?" You followed him to the foyer, where he grabbed his jacket and keys.

"I can't be here right now. I can't look at you."

"Sam, please. Don't do this. It's not what you think."

"What's it then? You've been lying to me," He accused. "You're fucking someone."

"It's not like that," You shook your head. You couldn't believe you had to plead your case.

"It's exactly like that. You're sleeping with a woman,"

"I didn't plan for it to happen."

"You never think, y/n," He sneered, shaking his head. "Always doing whatever the fuck you want. I bet that's why she's with you."

"She loves me,"

"I love you." He shouted louder this time. "That doesn't matter to you. Don't wait up for me. I can't even look at you right now."

"Sam," You reached for his arm, and he shrugged you off.

"Get away from me," He said lowly. "If you think I'm going to let my daughter be around this shit, you're dead wrong. Don't come after me."

"Sam," You tried again.

His shove wasn’t hard—just enough to create distance—but the way you stumbled and the sharp gasp that left your lips was enough to snap something in him. His rage flickered, replaced by something unreadable, something almost haunted.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he said again, softer this time like he was more afraid of his own words than you were.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, breath caught in your throat.

He shook his head, something breaking in his expression. “I’m leaving. Stay the fuck away from me.”

The door slammed behind him.

And just like that, everything was ruined.

Your marriage.

Your family.

Everything.

You sank to the floor. Numb. No tears came, not because you didn’t want to cry, but because you didn’t know how. The exhaustion, the weight of it all, crushed your chest, leaving you hollow.

This was the end, wasn’t it?

You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

What had you done?

“Mama?” Claire’s small voice carried from the steps. “Can I come down?”

You didn’t answer.

“Mama?” she asked again, hesitant this time.

You forced yourself to lift your hand, patting the floor beside you. “Come here.”

Claire ran over, climbing into your lap without hesitation. She curled into you, warm and trusting, her arms wrapping around your middle.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asked, tilting her head to look at you.

Your throat tightened. “Daddy’s…” The words wouldn’t come.

“Is he coming back?” Her voice was so small, so full of unshaken faith.

You swallowed hard. “He’s… not feeling well.”

Claire frowned. “Is he sick?”

“No,” you whispered, stroking her curls. “Just a bad day. A really bad day.”

*********

Natasha entered the front door, dropping her keys onto the entryway table. The brunch with Wanda was nice until the call came.

Steve’s voice had been calm. Too calm. Come home.

Now, standing in the living room, her stomach dropped.

Two bags sat by the door, neatly packed.

She furrowed her brows. “You going on another fishing trip?”

Steve shook his head. “They’re for you.”

Natasha’s stomach twisted. “What?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for something on the coffee table. The moment she saw it, her pulse stuttered.

The diary.

"You went through my things?"Natasha’s jaw tightened. Anger flared, hot and immediate,

"Don't." He said firmly, holding the book in his hand.

"Why do you have this?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Steve,"

"Answer the question," Steve interrupted. "I have a right to know, especially since you've been keeping it a secret from me. For months."

"You went through my things."

"And what you wrote," He ignored her. "You know the things you write what you've been feeling. How long?"

Natasha clenched her fists. "Steve, this isn't the right time for this conversation."

"There is no better time than the present," He snapped. "I can't believe I've been so blind. I knew you were hiding something, but this? I was going through your things to get your ring resized. You know the one you haven't worn in months?"

"Steve, you don't understand," She pleaded.

"Don't understand what, huh?" He challenged. "That you've fallen for someone else? That you've been having an affair?"

"I never meant to fall for her," Natasha said, looking at him.

"What difference does that make, huh?" He raised his voice. "You did it anyway."

“Save whatever explanation you’ve got,” he said evenly. “I already called Sam.”

Her breath hitched. Sam. You. Claire.

Fear clawed at her throat. “Steve, tell me you didn't call him-"

"I did," Steve interrupted. "Because he deserves to know."

Natasha bit her lip.

"How long has this been going on?"

She remained silent.

"Tell me how long," Steve repeated.

"Long enough," She finally admitted. "Six months."

Steve's expression hardened.

"How could you?" He said in a low voice. "How could you do this to me?"

Natasha took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."

Steve clenched his jaw. "That doesn't mean shit."

"Steve,"

"No," he interrupted. "Do you know what this means? Not only are you fucking someone, but it's a woman. I'm not even worth your respect. You don't respect me as a husband."

"That's not true," She said, stepping forward.

"Really?" He scoffed. "How else would you explain this? How would you explain the fact that you've been cheating on me for God knows how long if you're telling me the truth."

"Steve," Natasha breathed. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this. For you to find out like this."

"Oh, were you going to sit us down for dinner and have a conversation? I don't fucking think so."

"Steve,"

"What?"

"Let's talk," She insisted. "Not like this. Just let me-"

"There's nothing to talk about." He interrupted. "We're done."

Natasha felt like the ground was falling out from under her. She opened her mouth, then closed it.

"I booked you a room," Steve continued. "At the inn. I won't be there."

"Steve, please," Natasha said, a tear running down her cheek. "Don't do this."

"Take your bags," he said firmly. "I'm not letting you stay here a second longer."

"Steve, this is my house too."

"Was," he corrected. "Your bags are packed. Take them and leave."

"You can't do this," Natasha shook her head. "I can't."

"You can and you will," he replied.

"I won't."

"Fine," He said. "You can sleep in the car. I'm not changing my mind."

"Steve," Natasha said. "I love her. You have to understand."

"You're a fucking liar," Steve spat. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have cheated on me."

"You don't understand."

"Then explain it," Steve said, his jaw tight. "Tell me what I'm supposed to understand. Tell me why the woman who I've spent my life with, the woman I've committed to, has betrayed me."

"She makes me happy,"

"So do I,"

"Steve, it's not like that,"

"How's it like then?" He asked. "If you've fallen in love with someone, how the fuck am I supposed to compare?"

"She's-"

"Enough," Steve shook his head. "Get the hell out."

Natasha's shoulders dropped.

What had she done?

next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #it’s super angst

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jksian · 6 months ago

Text

When the end comes

You loved him with all your heart, held onto the person you knew will never be yours; but, the only regret you had was, you weren't able to tell him about those feelings.

Pairing: best friends brother JK x reader

Genre: ANGSTY, unrequited love

W/c: mid length?

warnings: depressing thoughts and implied suicidal thoughts, character dea*h, workplace harrasment, illness, family drama and step-parent, one sided love from oc' s side, tattoo artist Jk, age gape

A/N- This story is incomplete and I don't intend to continue it, but I'm still posting it because I wanted to share it with you guys and since many of you expressed your desire to read it :⁠-⁠)

It was during the autumn season when he first met you.

Not in a literal sense; but that was the day he thought he finally come to knew you. A side of you, he never thought he would be able to witness.

Just like the sight in front of him right now.

He did not even fathom the idea of seeing you like this. Beautiful eyes which once shined so brightly under the sun; are now closed. Not even a hint of flickering of your eyelashes which you usually do while being extremely nervous.

Now, autumn has returned again; but, despite the comforting warmth of the cozy weather being replaced by the harsh wind blowing away the leaves from the trees, creating the atmosphere unbearably gloomy and dull.

Because the warmth is gone, along with you.

…

15 years ago…

“Why is he coming, now!? Fuck, I have to meet Sam!” Jia was beyond frustrated after knowing that her brother was coming to picked her up from the school.

Both you and Jia had been friends since your childhood. From being scolded by teachers to helping each other in anything and everything and being the ‘crime in partners’ duo, everyone in your school knew you two were inseparable.

She was always been a free-spirited girl. Generous and helpful, she was kind of a friend who stick by your side in bad times. Other than that, there were many good things about her and one of those were, her brother.

Jeon Jungkook.

The first time when you laid your eyes on him, you couldn’t able to remove the image of his glowing face ever since then. He was gorgeous as well as kind. You were smitten by his beauty. He was popular among girls. With a face like that, it was a very common fact, girls often got trapped by his good-looks which wielded them to the world of imagination.

And, you were one of those girls.

You often found yourself daydreaming about him, made silly scenarios in your little head. Your weekly visits to his sister’s house and getting to watch him closely more than any of those girls could, doesn’t help with your increasing amount of fake scenarios growing inside of your mind.

It was a stupid little crush, but you still held onto the possibilities of those cringe worthy romantic stories in your head to manifest it into reality.

Whenever he was around, every time you got a little bit shy but you tried your best to hide it from others.

“Someone clearly isn’t happy to see me.” Your best friend’s brother sing song those words towards his sister, pointing out her scowl which was very much evident on her face upon seeing him. The fact that she was planning on meeting her so-called-date in the name of fake extra classes would be caught red-handed, made her panicked and mad.

“H-hello.” You asked him even though your heart was racing at the speed of 100 mph and your hand was sweating like the Niagara waterfall, you still conjured up some courage to start the conversation.

“Moon? How are you?” He immediately replied with a sweet smile on his face. People often compared his face with the bunny and you can say why. There are some significant similarities.

You got a little bit flustered whenever he used that name. He gave that name to you because you loved the moon. So much so that you escaped from your school with your Jia to watch the night sky.

It was the first time you witnessed the true beauty of the moon. Sitting on the edge of the river near her house, you both admired the shinning moon light spreading on the water as it sparkled.

You both got scolded for your little escaped not just from your parents but your teachers also. From that moment, he gave you the name ‘moon.’

He was in his sophomore year of college, got an scholarship to study in abroad. It was winter at that time when he got back in his own country during holidays. Even though the atmosphere was cold, Jungkook radiated warmth wherever he goes. He was always been the one who shined brightly in whatever he did.

Jia’s endless pleading didn’t helped much in convincing her brother, so she didn’t had any choice but to went back home. Through out the way to her home, she kept on cussing him.

“You go on dates too! Even, you have a girlfriend!” That was the first time you experienced your first heart break. It felt like someone had put a knife into your heart.

“So? Are you the same age as me?” Jungkook reasoned with her but the thing you noticed that, he didn’t denied it. Your friend wasn’t lying.

The brother-sister duo busy their selves in an argument about “Jia should go on a date or not” where you went silent, had a emotional turmoil within you. It was so random, your little heart weren’t prepare for that news.

The thought of your crush loving someone else who was never gonna be you, shattered your heart. That day, you cried your heart out into your pillow at night when no one was around to heard your broken sobs.

…

Thanksgiving came and it was time for celebration. It was the time for eating delicious food, show our gratitude to the universe and spending time with our loved ones.

But, you weren’t particularly enjoying.

Every year, the Jeon’s and your family celebrated most of the occasions together, due to your father and Mr. Jeon being friends apart from your friendship with their daughter. But , this year, one more family joined in. You didn’t mind if it was just another random someone, but it wasn’t someone random.

The food was excellent as always. Mrs. Jeon had always been a great cook. All the food was mouth-watering but still, you found your self concentrating more on the scene unfolding in front of you rather than your food.

Jungkook invited his girlfriend to his house on Thanksgiving. That was the first time you saw the girl, your crush was in love with.

She was beautiful would be an understatement. Long, silky hair which was dyed brown, tall with a sweet personality. Anyone could have said on the first glance at them that, they were made for each other. There were many similarities between them too, like both were studying at the same college, Jungkook being art major and she was in the literature department, both belonged to the same city but never met each other before and the most importantly, both were at the same age.

Where you were four years younger than him, basically same age as his sister.

He probably think of you as his sister. No. Definitely he did.

You were burning with rage when you saw them holding hands. Even though everyone was around them, they didn’t seem to care much. It also seemed like Jungkook’s family liked her so much. They were happy that their son have met someone who made him happy. Both their families were happy about their relationship.

When it was evening, everyone was chattering and laughing inside the house but you were on the balcony, standing alone. You couldn’t help but cry. It was too much for you. You’d been crying for days now, but now that you’ve seen his girlfriend, there was no denying that it was real. Their relationship was real and you didn’t had a chance anymore.

“Moon is watching the moon?” You didn’t noticed when Jungkook came here. You abruptly wiped your tears away from your cheeks. He came closer to you and stand beside you, you took a step away, tried harder to hide your face from him.

When he noticed you hadn’t answered his question, he continued “I picked the right name for you, didn’t I?” he asked again, tried to humor you but you were nowhere near to laugh or even smile at his jokes.

You were standing there silently, not staring at the sky anymore. You lowered your gaze and your head fall downwards, shoulders slumped. He must had sensed that something was wrong with you, that’s why he asked “Hey, are you okay–,”

Before he can finish his sentence, an ugly sob slipped past your mouth, unable to held it back anymore. This time he didn’t held back, he placed his hand on your shoulder and made you look at him. You were insistent on not to face him so he settled with just holding you by your shoulder.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks without any resistance but his hands felt comforting even though he was the one hurting you at that time.

“What happened? Does someone hurt you?” you could sense the concern in his voice, his voice was so soft like he was afraid of hurting you. That made you cry even harder.

“____, please tell me what happened?” This time he was rubbing your arms up and down, a gesture of comfort. He patiently stand there until you calmed down and was ready to talk.

When he saw you finally wiping your tears away, he took a loose strand of your hair and tuck it behind your ear. That little affection felt like someone poked a needle into your heart.

“I like someone.”

You whisper to him , tried your hardest to not burst out crying again. You saw his expression turned into confusion, so you continued “But, He doesn’t like me.”

Again, your eyes were filling with tears. The image of them together encrusted into your mind will always hunt your down for sure.

Jungkook seemed to contemplate on how to respond to you. Then, he asked “How could you know that he doesn’t likes you?”

“Because, he has a girlfriend.”

Jungkook was taken aback by your statement. He looked at you with sympathy in his eyes, like he was sad about the situation you were in.

“I- are you sure? Also, do I know them by any chance?”

You avoided his gaze but nodded to his question. You were afraid that he might know about your secret crush on him. What if, he hates you after knowing that he was the person you likes?

No no, you couldn’t let that happen.

“how old is he?”

“Same age as yours. And, I’m sure that he has a girlfriend. I’ve seen them together the other day. You- you might know him but I don’t know…” You shifted on your feet, fidgeted under his curious gaze. He was staring at you, you felt that even though you were looking at the other direction.

“May I know his nam– ,”

“No.” Before he could ask the question, you dismissed immediately. There’s no way in hell you were gonna tell him that.

After seeing your defensive state, he didn’t push that question onto you anymore.

“Okay. You know, you’re a beautiful girl, right? You’ll find someone better than him in the future who will love you.” His smile was surreal, he was looking at you like you were the only one existed in the world, Eyes so gentle.

He was such a kind person, always helping who was in need, from offering jacket to a random person at a cold night to rescuing you from getting embarrassed in front of thousands of people on your first day of period. Even if you tried to assume that he was being caring only to you, that you’re special to him, you knew it wasn’t true.

You were just a random girl who was happened to be his sister’s friend.

He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to you. Your tears were as stubborn as you were, “If he is my age then, that means he is older than you –,” the realization hit him.

“–___, he didn’t do anything to you right?” his worrisome expression made you think that why does that matter? His brows were pinched as he searched for your eyes.

“N-no, why are you asking that?”

“You should be careful from people, especially older guys. I’m not saying all the older guys are bad, but you haven’t see much of the world yet, so it might be difficult for you to identify who is good. You also haven’t matured enough–,”

“What do you mean by that!?” you got offended by the those words. Matureness doesn’t comes from age, also why was he acting like a seventy years old grandpa?

He got off guard from the sudden change in your tone. Shifted on his feet, he tried to make you understand his prospective, “I mean, many guys in our college targets younger girls like you to take advantage of, and… I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“W-why?” you wiped your nose with his handkerchief as you asked.

“Who wants something bad happens to the people they care about?” his smile was so genuine, the way he looked at you back then, made you feel things you’d never felt for anyone else.

That night you realized that, maybe, your silly little crush on him wasn’t just a crush. It was more than that. Something that might ruin you in the end but, still you let that thing to engulfed you completely.

That night, you found comfort in the person who was the reason behind your heart break.

…

That year, your father got transferred to a different country, so without a doubt, it was the time when you part your ways with your best friend.

It was painful, parting ways with the friend you’ve spend your almost entire life, but what’s more painful, was not able to see your childhood love ever again.

That was the last time you saw Jungkook on your way to the airport, walking hand in hand with his girlfriend.

You didn’t knew back then when someone’s in love, how they looked like. That radiant smile on his face and the glitter in his eyes when he looked at her shined so brightly made you think that, maybe it was the face of a man in love.

But, the sad thing was, you were not the reason behind that smile on his face.

…

8 years ago

Life wouldn’t be anymore shittier.

After you left your country, you tried your hardest to overcome and forget about Jungkook.

You left everything behind and those memories you’d made with some of the closest people there, weren’t leaving your mind even for some moments. Every little thing you did back then, reminded you of them, especially Jungkook.

Still, you managed.

You did graduated from a college and got a job. Everything was going fine until you found out that you had pancreatic cancer.

Doctors said that it wasn’t in it’s last stage yet but after thousands of medications and appointments for half an year, before that day, they declared that you only had 10 months to live only.

Not even an year.

It was so unfair. You had dreams and goals which you still had to achieve but life had other plans for you.

Your health wasn’t well enough to maintain a 9-5 job, but, you still did it because you didn’t wanted to be a burden on your family.

You were twenty-four when you realized your life was going to end soon.

“What is this!? Are you gonna present this in front of the client?” Your boss shouted at you, that bald-faced nuisance who doesn’t even know how to pronounce ‘future’. Yeah, his future was as clear as his empty bald-head.

You’ve submitted the same project for the third time, because he wasn’t ‘satisfied’ with your work, but the truth was, he doesn’t even turned the first page of it to check. Clearly, he was just messing around with you or to be honest, harassing you.

The reason behind it – rejection. You rejected his offer of ‘get a promotion just by spending a night with him’. He was adamant on sleeping with you. His flirty remarks wasn’t very subtle, you knew this pervert would come to this point at sometime.

“Make this again!” he threw the file across the table towards you. It hits you and you cursed under your breath.

“What was that?” he asked, his chimpanzee like face contort with anger once again.

He got a pretty punchable face.

“Have you checked my project, sir?” there was mockery in your voice which his one brain cell wasn’t able to comprehend.

“What nonsense are you talking about?” his brows were pinched together, flared his nose like a fucking dragon.

“I submitted the same project for the third time yet, you didn’t noticed that. Is your ego got hurt so much so that after my rejection, you’re doing this pity things to me now?”

His face goes through seven stages of grief, fear flashed through his eyes but, soon turned into rage. He abruptly stood up from his chair, banging his fist on the table, “What the hell are you talking about!? Have you forgotten your place? Don’t cross the limit, ____. You’re nothing, a good for nothing! You should know that, I’m your senior here, talk to me with respect! Or –,”

“Or what? Are you gonna complain? You know, I’m also going to complain about something…” You said, your tone as calm as ever but eyes hard as a rock.

He knew, what filthy texts he had sent you and obviously, you didn’t deleted them even though he had told you to. You thought, he might explode right at that moment out of anger, “Are you threatening me? Huh? What? Are you gonna complain about me now?”

“Yes, you asshole.”

“Bitch–,” He was going to hit you with a file but before he could do that, your colleagues interrupted and he stopped midway, pretending like nothing happened.

You stormed out of his office, never minding him calling your name continuously. Everyone in your office looked at you like you’d grown two horns on your head. You didn’t gave them any attention and straight up went to the CEO’s office.

He had threatened you countless times about how you were gonna lose your job if you don’t work how he wants you to, accordingly.

But, you had nothing to lose anymore.

After you filed a complain and submitted the resignation letter, you left that company. For good.

On the way to your home, you called your parents and told the you left your job. Your step-mom was more furious than your own dad.

Of course, you knew that would happen but what was the benefit of continuing the job when you won’t be alive anymore.

You hang up the call as soon as you heard her shouting from the other side.

You felt lost. What were you doing all these years?

Barely surviving.

You didn’t even know how it felt to live life. Not surviving, living.

All you did was, earning money with your fragile health to make it stronger but instead, it worsen even more at the end.

Now, you were on the brink of death.

Is it okay to leave everything behind? You thought. It wasn’t like you had much left in your life anyway. Your parents were stressed all the time because of you. Your sister were depressed after knowing about your condition.

Is it too soon to die in this moment? You asked yourself while standing at the edge of the bridge which connected two cities together. Staring at the river below, almost 136 meters high. You kept on staring blankly at the way water flows by, wondering where it might took you if you jump at this instance.

Before, your intrusive thoughts controlled you, your eyes landed on a bird, it’s wing crippled. It kept on chirping and tried to fly, but every time it does, landed on the surface of the barrier.

You slowly shifted closer to it, not wanted to scared it away and held it in your palms gently, “Hey, let me bandage you, okay? You will be able to fly again then!”

Fortunately, you had a small box of fast aid kit with you. Being a full-time patient and a regular visitor to the hospital, you got accustomed with the medical kits and medicines.

You swiftly bandaged the wounded wing carefully while rubbing its back.

“Do you have a name?”

The bird wiggled into your hold a little. You realized how dumb that question was, but you’d always liked talking to animals even though they couldn’t reply back to you or even understood you. All they did was, stare at your face dumbfoundedly, probably judging the crazy women in front of them.

After you were done, you released it from your hold and you saw the bird flying again.

The happiness you felt at that moment was indescribable. It felt like, you were cured from your deathly disease and your death sentence has been halt for a long period of time.

You felt like, you could live your life, just like that bird.

You felt…alive for a moment.

You didn’t knew when you started crying, tears ran down on your cheeks, on their own. You saw the bird fly happily. It wasn’t fully recovered yet, but still, the determination and courage ignited something inside of you.

At that moment, you regain the courage to live your life.

Not surviving anymore but, living your life to its fullest. At least for once.

…

Convincing your family wasn’t easy, especially your step-mother.

You had decided that, you want to spend your last days of your life in your hometown, which meant, you all had to move back to your old country where, once you left everything behind.

“I want to live my life before I die, dad. I want to live and do all those things while I’m still alive… because I don’t want regret it on my last days. Please, let me fulfil all those dreams before I left this earth?”

You father rarely saw you crying since you’d grown up. Not that you often cried in front of people, you always preferred crying silently in the dark of your room, hiding from everyone.

It was surprising to him.

But, the most surprising thing was, when you saw tears in his eyes. Your father was someone who believed that, crying was a sign of weakness.

But, he didn’t showed that to you, hiding his face from you, he said, “Then go, start packing your bags.”

You didn’t believe your own ears, did you heard it right?

You couldn’t contained your excitement as you hugged your father from behind and said, “Thank you.”

Tears breamed from your eyes after realizing that, finally you were going back to your country.

…

The streets still looked almost the same where you had spent your entire childhood, just not as much calm and warm as it used to be.

So many residents were built there now, it was more hectic and crowded. Thankfully, your old house was on sale at that time. The owner whom your father had sold that house to, wanted to sell it and your father bought it.

The walls of that house held so many memories, many untold truths and evidence of your cruel sleepless nights. The whispers of heart break buried in a corner of your room. All those memories came back to your mind and you found yourself day-dreaming about your old crush again.

“Where Jungkook might be right now?”

“What are you thinking about?” your sister came up behind you, noticing your eyes fixed on the direction of his house.

Your sister had graduated at the same year when you guys moved here. You were more than happy that she decided to start her career here and stayed with you, at least for that reason, you were able to spent your last days with her.

She knew about every single thing happened in your life and Jungkook wasn’t exceptional.

“Nothing…”

“Don’t lie. You were thinking about Jungkook, right?”

Oh god. Hearing that name after so many years, felt surreal. It only intensified the longing you were feeling all those years. Your eyes slightly widened but you dismissed immediately.

“No, you idiot. Go and do your work.”

“You don’t? Okay then, if you say so… but you should probably call Jia, she will be so happy to see you again!”

“I’ll call her later but now, my head is aching! Can you please make me some tea?” you pouted at her, gave her those innocent doe eyes. She glared at you in return, with bombastic side eyes, she left the room.

You giggled and heard her cursing back at you. You laughed a little more at that. Your bond with your sister was special. Something very close to your heart. She was the only family you had, according to you.

Your parents got divorced when you were only twelve years old, so figuring out what was going on and adjusting to the situation was difficult for you. Separating from your mother was especially harder, you thought of her as your best friend but…

No one’s gonna stay with you for forever and you learned it the hard way.

Ever since then, so many things changed in your life. Your father married again in the hope that, you and your sister might be able to experience the motherly love from her, but instead you got more pain and suffering.

She was at your throat for every single second, peace was something you used to crave, if not love. You never felt at home. When you found out about your disease, it was a disaster; but still, all she cared about was money.

How thoughtful!

You decided to take your sister’s advice and called your best friend. After eight years, you were again in your hometown. It was so nostalgic that you got emotional.

All the furniture were yet to be settled, your bed wasn’t ready to be used so you took a seat on your window, staring outside.

As you saw the canvas of the evening sky transforms into a masterpiece of hues, a tapestry of twilight unfolds, painted in soft pastels — a symphony of peach, lavender, and whispers of indigo. That moment felt celestial as your heart filled with an unknown warmth and you found yourself embracing your own body into your arms.

You had called her few times in all those years and she did too; but, with time, the busy schedules and hectic day to day life forced both of you to grew apart. The calls kept on reducing in number and, then it stopped altogether.

The call rang for four times before she picked up. For some moments, you were just staring at each other’s faces, network wasn’t working on your favor so it took time to get a clear picture of her face.

“You’re still alive?” was the first thing she asked you, very typical ‘Jia’ like behavior.

“Yeah, I’m still alive. Thank you very much! How are you?” you humored her and you saw her scoffed.

“You tell me, where were you? Huh? NO calls! NO massages!… were you gone underground or something? Oh no, wait! You forgot about me, right?”

She kept on blabbering her nonsense, falsely accusing you, dramatically thrown tantrums at you. You saw her brows pinched together as she glared at you which was supposed to be intimidating.

“Well, I’m in our hometown.”

“…What?!”

She couldn’t believe your words so you turned the camera around and gave her the view of the street where you guys used to run and play.

You saw her eyes widened and mouth gaped at the view, she scrutinized the area a little bit longer and made sure it was indeed her hometown.

“Fuck, bro! why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I wanted to surprise you, but well, looks like you’re not here.”

Her face turned into a sad expression from irritation, mirroring your own face.

You knew you would’ve told her, but you genuinely wanted to gave her a surprise with your arrival, in which failed miserably!

“It’s fine, I’m coming home in a few days.” That comforted you to some extent, knowing that you would be able to meet your best friend after all those years finally, before you die. It certainly gave you some comfort.

No one knew about your condition except your family, not even your best friend. The reason being, you wanted a normal life.

You didn’t wanted those sympathetic looks from others or them doing things for your just because you are gonna die soon.

No, you wanted them to act normal, just like they always did.

You didn’t wanted them to felt some urgency or pressure.

You didn’t wanted them to feel bad or guilty for you.

No, you wanted them to treat you normally, just like they had been with you ever since they met you.

Just a normal life before you die, where you can enjoy every second of your life and live it with others. Was that too much to ask for?

“Come back soon then,” Your smile held a sense of nostalgia and melancholy in it and for a brief second, you thought you saw tears in her eyes.

“By the way, have you informed others?” She changed the subject, probably didn’t wanted to cry at that moment of happiness.

“Yeah, we are going to meet at a club in this evening.”

“That’s great! Have fun then and also… is Jay coming?” she smirked at the camera and arched a brow at you.

Having a crush was different but this guy was on another level. He was head over heels for you. You never understood his obsession or love (what he used to say) for you. He was the same age as Jungkook. It wasn’t like he wasn’t good looking, on the contrary, he was charming. A guy for any girl would fall for. Topper of his class with that cute face of his, he got the whole package.

But, you never felt anything for him. So the first time he confessed to you, you straight up said ‘no’. Maybe it was a bit rude, not that you were denying but You never grasped the concept of leaving someone in ambiguity without providing a clear response, especially when it involved feelings.

“Do you want me to bonk you in the head? Why would he come to our reunion party? Come on…he isn’t even belong to our friend circle!” You said in disbelief and she rolled her eyes a little more.

“Dude, he was obsessing over you for such a long time! I’m sure he might be into you after all these year– ,”

“Jia–, you know how I feel about this–,” Yeah, she does. She knew everything, “Can we please drop it?”

She dropped the topic after your pleading. You always got irritated whenever she acted this way, teasing you by someone’s name who had a crush on you, constantly encouraged you to start dating one of them. You being you, never listened to her.

You both talked about things in general after that and then hang up.

Yeah, it was good. If not telling anyone about your sickness helped you live the way you wanted to, then, it’s okay.

As soon as you hang up the call, you felt a sharp pain in your stomach. You breathed in and out as you tried to endure it. Probably because you hadn’t took your medications yet. That’s why it was happening. You’d accustomed with all this by that time, so it wasn’t any thing new to you.

You were fine.

…

The city you lived in looked different but still, there was a familiarity in it.

Sidewalks hum with activity as people strolled, laughter echoed from cafes, and the distant sounds of traffic created a vibrant urban symphony. The evening air carried a blend of aromas from food vendors, filled your noses trills and made your stomach grumbled.

You met with your school friends at the club 15 minutes away from your house as planned. Coming to a club doesn’t made sense to you, because you weren’t able to drink alcohol, but.. well… you were there because of your… friends.

You sat on a stool which were lined the polished counter, where patrons sipped drinks and shared laughter. You watched your friends danced across the crowded dance floor, lost in their own world.

You saw Kai from your friends group, approaching you, came straight at the direction where you were seated. You quickly reverted your eyes to somewhere, acted like you hadn’t even noticed him just now, like any other introvert, focusing on your drink in your hand.

“Hey, ____! Long time no see.” Yeah, it would be longer if he weren’t just interrupted your peaceful time there.

He was grinning ear to ear like he just found some treasure. You adjusted yourself to looked at him, “Yeah, Hey! How are you?”

“Oh fine, just living the busy life of a busy man. You say, what you’re been up to these days?” oh, nothing special, just waiting to be embraced by death and, oh! Also trying to have a peaceful time which now has been disrupted. You hoped you’d be able to say that on his face but… oh, well… manners!

“Nothing special –,” He pulled a stool beside you and hopped on it, “You say?”

You watched him settling beside you comfortably. You internally rolled your eyes when you realized he probably wasn’t going anywhere soon.

He started talking about his life which you didn’t mind any attention to, you were busy finding loopholes to escaped the man in front of you. You eyes darted frantically everywhere around the club to found any of your friends, anyone, but the crowd made it harder to spot any of them.

He offered you a tequila which you politely refused. Then, he continued insisting on buying you a drink, his words laced with determination, the alcohol in his system clearly kicked out at that moment. The background buzz of the bar heightened as he tried to charm you into accepting, created a moment of tension which wasn’t a good kind.

Despite your clear signal of disinterest, he remained persistent. It ultimately left you annoyed than ever. The last time, your refusal was harsh, words came out of your mouth was rude but the situation particularly made it harder for you to be calm, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want a drink? It would be great if leave me alone.”

He took that to his heart, it seemed, because the look he gave you was similar to Chihuahua dogs when angry. You never got what this boy’s problem was, even any other boy who tried to pursued you before.

Why boys don’t know when to stop and have no shame? Universal question. The whole world wanted to know the answer, included yourself.

“Why the attitude? I’m just trying to be friendly! Damn, seems like you don’t deserve that–,” He scoffed, “you’ve become more hot, not gonna lie; but, that hard-to-get bitchy attitude is still there.”

The audacity he had!

You raised an eyebrow but maintained your composure. “Friendly doesn’t usually come with comments like that. It’s about mutual respect,” You retorted.

He leaned against the counter, undeterred. “Come on, no need to be so serious. I’m just being honest here. You were always good looking and now, you looks irresistible, but the attitude…”

You sighed, contemplated on if you walked out of there or slap him across his face, “Honesty is appreciated when it’s respectful. Your comments are crossing the line.”

Unfazed, he chuckled, “I just call it like I see it. No harm meant.”

“Well, it’s causing harm. I value my personal space and expect to be treated with respect,” You stated firmly.

He scoffed again, “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to loosen up a bit. Not every compliment is an attack.”

As his audacity reached new heights with an attempt to grab your arm, frustration surged within you. You were on the verge of snapping back, but just in the nick of time, a familiar voice called your name, halting your impending outburst.

“Hey, there you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

You turned your face to your left and saw Jungkook standing there, a n knowing smile on his face which he usually made when he got annoyed or angry.

Relieved and equally surprised to hear his familiar voice, you redirected your attention, grateful for the interruption regardless.

You stared at him with wide eyes, still thinking that if he was real or not. He glanced at the guy who had attempted to grab your arm, his smile faded into a more serious expression. “Is everything okay here?" Jungkook asked, his tone carried a subtle warning.

The guy got tensed, visibly uncomfortable under Jungkook’s scrutiny, stammered, “Just a misunderstanding, man.”

Jungkook’s demeanor remained stern as he replied, “Best not to misunderstand personal boundaries. She’s not interested.”

His hand was on your shoulder in a comforting manner. With that, Jungkook subtly positioned himself between you and the guy, creating a clear physical barrier. The unwelcome intruder, perhaps sensed the shift in dynamics, made a hasty exit. His protective side kicked out.…

…Like any other big brother might had.

Being the protective big brother he was, Jungkook had a younger sister, so dealing with guys hitting on her became a familiar scenario for him. He had accumulated experience in handling such situations.

Yeah, he still saw you like his little sister.

“Jungkook…” Words came out breathy form your mouth like you still hadn’t believe him standing there. The feeling you had buried in a corner of your heart years ago resurfaced once again, the bittersweet warmth you used to feel whenever you saw him bloomed inside of your heart.

Jungkook’s gaze held a mix of familiarity and affection, and you found myself lost in the moment, the years melting away.

“Hey –,” He said softly as he stand in front of you, “Are you okay?”

When he smiled at you, you realized his smile was still the same, radiated warmth and playfulness. That boyish innocence was still there but with a mix of mature allure that time. That doe-like, expressive eyes that held a certain depth, his gaze was both inviting and enigmatic, in which you found yourself drowned.

There were significant changes in his appearance though, like the tattoos on his arm and those piercings on his eyebrows, ears and even his lips. You stared at him absentmindedly before he spoke, “Moon? I asked if you’re okay?” That name again!

“Yeah, right… I’m okay. Thank you, Jungkook.”

He smiled at your response as he said, “I didn’t knew you were in the town.”

“Yeah, no one does actually. I wanted to surprise Jia, but she is out of the country so…’

“Right, she is.” Then silence settled between you two. Before it could got more awkward, Jungkook said, “So…how is life going?” as he took the seat on which Kai was settled before.

How were you gonna answer that? Your life… you felt like it was never yours. You moved out of the country because of your father, you got a college degree so you could help your family financially, then you diagnosed with a disease which eventually going to kill you so you didn’t had much time left.

But, in all of these, what you did for yourselves? When was the time you actually lived your life?

You didn’t had an answer to that tbh.

“Nothing special. My dad got retired so we thought about coming back to our country.” You answered, swirling the glass of virgin mojito in your hand. “and, what about you?”

“Me?” He asked, his doe eyes staring wide at you, chucking a little, he replied, “Came back to my home after realizing, I’m not gonna get a job there any time soon, not bad though–,” He glanced over your shoulder as you saw something flickered in his eyes, “ –Then thought about starting my own business, now I got my own tattoo shop.”

You saw him frequently glancing over your shoulder, as if someone was behind you whome was trying to see.

“Oh! That’s awesome!”

He didn’t replied and kept staring at a particular direction behind you. When you attempted to look behind, he stopped you by grabbing your arm. “Yeah, it is.”

He let out a laugh which clearly indicated his nervousness. “Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Is someone behind me?”

“Yeah… it’s just my ex.”

He said that casually as if he wasn’t just trying to desperately snatch a glance at her. You didn’t understand, his ex?

You remember his girlfriend. What was her name again?

Nina? Nanny? Ah, no. Yes!

Nancy. She was his girlfriend whom he invited to the thanksgiving party. As far as you knew, they were still dating according to Jia even though she confessed that to you a long time ago.

“Umm– Jungkook? I need more context to understand what you’re talking about. So, fill me in what I’m missing out?” You squinted at him dramatically and he laughed a little at your ministration.

That same smile which was enough to make your heart flutter and skip a beat.

“It’s nothing, just that…” He paused midway and glanced over your head again before continuing, “We broke things up a few months ago. Decided to go separate ways because we didn’t work out eventually?”

There was a question mark at the end, you wondered why was that for. Was he not know why they broke up? That’s sounds silly. Maybe, he was confused after they broke things up and thought that he made a mistake there? He might still wanted to be with her?

Before your train of thought escalate even further, He tapped you on your shoulder and brought you back to the reality, “Earth to ___,” You saw him smiling at you, “What are you thinking?”

You were wearing off shoulders, so, the naked touch of his fingers upon your skin kindled a transient flame, imprinting an indelible mark of his presence that will linger unwelcomed for the next few days.

“N-nothing, what were you saying again?” shaking the dizziness from witnessing the stars in his eyes, you asked. It’s normal for a human being like you, feeling dizzy after touched by someone made of stars. Gotta be grounded, you aren’t allowed to touch the stars, you reminded yourself.

“I asked, if you want to dance with me. Would you?” He asked as he extended his hand for you. You knew, you shouldn’t touch the stars but the shining flow of it made you blinded to the upcoming consequences of your actions.

You should knew well, why he was asking for a dance. His ex was still behind you so the only reason would be to – made her jealous, still you reciprocated.

You warned him about your lack of knowledge in dancing, nonetheless, he pulled you to the dance floor.

Placed your hands on his shoulder and his on your waist, he instructed you to move. As soon as, you two stepped on the dance floor, the song changed to a melodic one from a upbeat song.

Apocalypse by cigarettes after sex started playing in the background and you found yourself staring at the men in front of you for a second before you broke the eye contact.

Even thought you turned you face to the other side you could feel his eyes on you, making your mind go blank.

He pulled you closer, bodies Pressed together as both of you started to move in sync with the music. His breath hit the side of your face, making your breath hitched after knowing the close proximity between you two.

“____,” He called, your name sounded pretty from his lips, “Look at me.”

It sounded like a demand but his tone suggested other wise. Tender and delicate, as his soft lips brushed against your hairline, made you gulped the lump forming in your throat.

You did look him in the eyes. His gaze, held galaxies within, each flicker echoing the poetry of an undiscovered universe, in which you found yourself lost.

“You’re doing good. Just don’t think too much and let your body move according to the rhythm –,” He said, his gaze focused on your face, closer than before. The ambient lighting casted a soft glow, accentuating his delicate features, his words gave you courage, an unfamiliar sense of comfort and his face made you thought that you had someone you could rely on.

In that shared gaze, time momentarily freezes and you found yourself falling for him, again.

“Aish…I sounded like some know-it-all, I think? don’t mind it, please.” There was nervousness in his voice, fleeting glances searched for reassurance to make sure you didn’t found that offensive.

You didn’t help but realized how thoughtful and considerate a person could be that he was worrying about something so small. It wasn’t even sounded offensive to you, it was just a suggestion, guidance to someone who doesn’t know the ‘D’ of dancing.

Like a delicate melody played on uncertain notes—a sincere expression that made his words all the more genuine and endearing and you found that oddly charming.

You couldn’t help but smiled at him, “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind at all, but… I might get offended if you don’t tell me the truth right now.” You teased, slightly grinding at him.

He pinched his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Are you. . . Somehow trying to make your ex jealous? Because if you are, I think it’s working.”

His eyes widened a bit, clearly wasn’t expecting something like that. He, again, glanced over to the girl who was still standing at the same spot for ten minutes, observing every move you two made.

“I– No–, I mean not exactly,” He looked at you with a hint of guilt in his eyes, giving you an apologetic smile, “Well, not gonna lie. I did tried to make her kinda jealous – but it wasn’t the entire reason why I asked you for a dance.” You found a hint of panic in his eyes, again looking like he didn’t wanted to offend by any means, which you found enduring. Why does he cared so much? You thought.

You couldn’t help but saw this little things in people, especially the people you held close to your heart.

“Then, why did you asked?”

“Because, I wanted to.” He said casually, as if he didn’t just made you skipped your heart beat a little faster. You shifted your gaze to the other side, feeling weird emotions about the person you wouldn’t felt. Nonetheless, you chuckled a little bit.

“You would have told me earlier, then I might have put more effort.”

“So, you aren’t putting effort yet?” He giggled, eyes gleamed under the light.

“No – I didn’t mean that, but, now we have a mission in our hands, so we better win it!”

He made a look of knowing, realized what you were implying. He let out a chuckle, shook his head at you adorably and gripped your hand a bit firmly, pulling you a little bit closer as if there were any gap in between.

Your chest flashed against his, the burning heat of your cheeks might be visible by then, you felt his thumb rubbing slowly at your waist where he was holding you. That small gesture was supposed to be comforting but it only made your cheeks grew a shade brighter.

You thanked the dimly lights of the club.

The evening went by just the two of you holding each other close as you swung your bodies to the unfamiliar melodies. This time, there was no barrier in between you two, like, ‘he see me as his sister’ or ‘he has a girlfriend.’

…

Sometimes, It was hard for you to understand Jia.

That one time when she asked if she could borrow your white gown on her birthday. Of course you gave that to her. It was her birthday party in the evening, so you didn’t grasp the fact why she wanted to wore something …old, when she had a new dress waiting for her in her wardrobe.

But, then switched her dress to that very new black dress in the middle of that party. When you asked her, she refused to gave you an explanation, which baffled you and left you confused.

Even though you didn’t liked her odd behavior that night, you let that slipped.

“Taehyung is looking at your direction –,” one of the girls from your class whispered in your ears as she giggled like a typical teen girl next to you.

All of your friends were sitting at the cafeteria, munching on your food. It was a typical boring day at school until your eyes landed on Jungkook. He was in the senior year and also the captain of school soccer team.

When you were busy drooling over him, your friends started making their own theories.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him staring at ___ quite often.” Other girl from your same table passed a comment.

Kim Taehyung was in the soccer team as well but a year older than Jungkook, but they were like brothers, the ‘IT’ best friend duo. It was quite usual for you to saw Taehyung whenever Jungkook was around. He was with him almost all the time.

But, you never noticed him staring at you. You thought they were making silly scenarios in their little head in hope of some Juicy gossip until you noticed, Kim Taehyung staring at your direction.

“Stop, guys! He is probably looking at somewhere else or looking for someone? Who knows!” You shrugged them off, not wanted to participate in their nonsense.

The men, they were talking about was the ‘sweetheart’ of your high school, every other girl was smitten by him, so it was a bit difficult for you to accept that he might had a crush on you.

“___, you are dangerously oblivious.” Then they laughed as if they just discovered the funniest joke of the century, their laughter echoed through out the cafeteria except from you and Jia.

It was easy to assume someone’s weight just by looking at the structure of their body until you had to carry them.

“Fuck! He is heavy dude!” Jia cursed under her breath, unable to hide the suffering of carrying Jimin all the way up to the 5th floor to Jungkook’s apartment.

“He doesn’t seem like–,” You were about to trip and fall, but adjusted yourself quickly. “yeah, he is heavy.”

The knock on his door wasn’t too loud as you made sure not to woke any neighbors up 2 in the morning.

You heard a groan along with some footsteps before the door swung open in front of you and you wished that you wouldn’t saw what you’d saw.

There was Jungkook, naked and standing in his full glory. Thank God, he had a sweat pant on.

You immediately looked down out of respect and…well, shyness? Because the way your cheeks heat up was embarrassing. You were flustered and you hoped, no one noticed.

Jungkook made a surprised gasped and scrunched his brows out of confusion, “What are you guys doing here at this hour? I- wait, is that jimin?”

“Yes!! Now help us, dummy.” Jungkook grabbed Jimin’s arm but not before shooting a glare at his sister’s direction, gave her a look of ‘you better shut the fuck up.’

He took jimin from you two and carried him like his weight was nothing, held him like a feather. Before the three of you could reach out to the sofa, you saw Taehyung came out of another room.

“What’s going on in the middle of the night?” His deep voice was an octave lower, clearly he was in his dreamland. With a scowl, he rubbed his eyes and looked at his very drunk friend, “Wait – Is that jimi– Is he dead?” He dramatically gasped.

“No. But, tell me, are you two…gay?” She asked them quietly, made it more dramatic by her expressions. Her mischievous eyes shifted to Taehyung from Jungkook, then again on Jungkook.

Taehyung gave a glare at her direction, no words left from his mouth. The poor guy just woke up at the middle of the night and accused of fucking Jungkook. You held your laughter back, didn’t wanted to make it more chaotic than it already was.

“No– I mean you look like you just had a rough night and–,”

“Jia, will you shut up?” Jungkook’s voice was stern, as if he was holding himself back. His sister knew how to get on his nerves, for sure.

Ignoring the fact that she was about to bring scolded by her elder brother, she took the responsibility and filled him up with the information.

“We were at this bar and we saw Jimin there…lying on a couch. The owner was searching for his friends but, since they weren’t there, we took him here.” She chirped, feigning innocence as if she didn’t just called her brother gay.

Jia decided to met you at this famous bar, again you went along with the idea even though you knew the fact that, you won’t be able to drink anything.

At least you liked the ambience of the bar, until you found a very drunk blonde haired guy laying on a couch, almost knocked out. The owner was literally about to kick him out if it weren’t for you and Jia arrived at the right time.

“He was supposed to join us.” Taehyung shook his head in disappointment, letting out a huff, he walked over to Jimin who was finally knocked out on Jungkook’s couch. Following Taehyung’s lead, you sit beside Jimin, scrutinizing his face for any discomfort he might had.

Your gaze briefly flickered towards Jungkook, caught him staring at you, before he quickly averted his eyes towards Taehyung. You knew, it wasn’t anything you might had thought of, but the way your stomach flipped over wasn’t something normal.

“What you guys were even doing?” Jia asked exaggeratedly, squinted her eyes at both men in front of her suspiciously.

Yes, Jungkook and Taehyung was like brothers since they were in high school, probably saw shits of each other which might had never been seen by anyone, their bromance was top-notch but that doesn’t allow people to question about their sexuality. You knew, Jia was just joking and probably pulling her brother’s leg off and besides, Jungkook has a girlfriend. Or so, had.

They might broke up, but the possibility of him having feelings for her was strong, because of the dance you two had that night at the club. No person who doesn’t had any feelings for their ex would did such thing to just made them jealous. He doesn’t said that, he doesn’t had to, it was all clear in his eyes or so you noticed.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jeongguk #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #fanfic #jksian🤍

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daydreamgoddess14 · 11 days ago

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💫 For Your Consideration - Act 1 💫

actor!Bucky x fem!actress!Reader (no use of y/n, l/n, reader is not described in any great detail. I save that for the gowns 💃)

Warnings: Hollywood AU, language, internet nasties, flirty!Bucky, a little power imbalance, age-gap (Bucky is around 40, actress reader is closer to 30 or younger if you prefer 🤭)... more to be added later.

Bucky Barnes, the suave and talented leading man of the 'Winter Soldier' movie series, finds himself on the red carpet circuit during awards season with his latest film 'The Howling Commandos'. But the season takes an unexpected turn when he crosses paths with a mesmerizing newcomer - the actress who has become the talk of Tinseltown with her captivating performance in her most recent film. Sparks fly as they navigate silly season in Hollywood, with a spotlight on their every move will their chemistry ignite a real life romance?

< Prev Act | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Next Act >

SEPTEMBER 2025

You hadn't known what to expect.

Sure, you'd done your fair share of press nights, television awards, red carpets and ceremonies, even the occasional movie premiere where (inexplicably) minor b, c and d-listers were invited.

You'd rubbed shoulders with the winners of Love Island, or the quarter finalists of The Voice, wide eyed and looking at each other like you were equally surprised to have been invited to these things.

Toronto was at a whole other level.

You’d miraculously been recognised in a public gym class at your hotel that morning, but other than that you’d been able to blend in like the millions of other tourists.

The studio had ‘loaned’ you the same stylist who’d handled the small flurry of media activity when you’d first been cast in the movie. Becka had been in Toronto ahead of you and had slotted into the third pillar of moral support alongside Dani and Lulu. She’d already taken Lulu with her to track down a selection of outfits to last the week, while you and Dani had been picked up to attend an opening weekend welcome lunch.

Faces of people you’d only ever seen on TV and the big screen breezed past you both while you stayed glued to the wall.

“You should say hello to someone,” Dani muttered into her mimosa.

“If I knew anyone…” you grimaced. You scanned the room again, hoping to see someone, anyone from your movie. “They sent me here to die,” you lamented with a frown.

“Ahh, none of that,” Dani chastised, taking your hand in her own soft palm. “Look at me, this is fine. You entertain strangers all day, every day. This is just an extension of that. Now breathe, smile, relax.”

You did as she asked.

“God, your skin looks incredible,” you marvel, “only you could get off a ten hour flight looking like that.”

“Come on, silly. Let’s at least have a walk around the room and look like we belong here.” She tucked her hand into the bend of your elbow, and nudged you along. “That’s Sam Wilson,” she whispered under her breath, “he’s Bucky Barnes’ agent, and that’s Joaquin Torres with him.”

You looked briefly as Wilson embraced Torres in a huge hug, both of them smiling widely. Distracted, you didn’t notice Dani slip ahead of you to avoid bumping into anyone, leaving you to walk straight into the next person to cross your path.

“Oh, shit,” you hissed, barely managing to keep hold of your glass. A warm hand with a tight grip held your elbow as the collision threatened to send you to the floor.

“You should watch where you’re walking,” a familiar voice chided.

The gruff tone of the Winter Soldier star, Bucky Barnes, was surprisingly gentle despite the harshness of his words. He’d taken a step back out of your personal space, his eyes locked on your face as he waited for you to respond.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, aghast. “I’m really so sorry.”

You stumbled back another step, his hand leaving your elbow.

His eyes narrowed, studying you.

He seemed more curious than annoyed at your embarrassment.

You, on the other hand, turned to retreat quickly with eyes like saucers.

Behind you, Dani had traced her steps back to find you and on seeing Bucky, gave an unintentional squeak of surprise. She clapped one hand over her mouth, the other seeking out yours.

Her gaze darted between you and Bucky.

He gave her a cursory glance before his eyes slid back to you, taking in the flush on your cheeks and the tension in your shoulders. He wondered absently why he found himself unable to look away.

Dani tugged lightly on your hand.

“Please, excuse me,” you breathed, your voice far braver and stronger than you’d expected it to be.

He nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t reply, watching as Dani led you away through the throng of producers, agents and PR reps. Bucky found himself still watching the space you’d previously occupied, his usually stern expression slightly softer than normal.

“Ladies fallin’ at your feet again, old man?” Sam grinned, giving Bucky’s shoulder a gentle shake.

Bucky rolled his eyes and took a long sip of his drink.

“Shut it, Wilson,” he muttered. Sam laughed, clearly enjoying Bucky’s discomfort.

“Ah, come on, Barnes,” he teased. ”Can’t handle a couple of adoring fans? It comes with the territory, you know that.”

You’d caught the tail end of the comment before the surrounding noise had filled the air.

“Oh god,” you mumbled under your breath, glancing over your shoulder as Dani dragged you through the crowd. “I just collided with Bucky Barnes.”

Dani nodded sympathetically, her hand tightening around yours.

“Don’t worry babe, this is a big place. You probably won’t see him again.”

“You think?” You asked, your voice small and tight with the embarrassment of almost falling over in front of the hottest, most famous actor in the room.

“Sure,” she smiled, taking a glass of champagne from a passing tray and replacing your empty one with the full one. “Put it out of your head.”

You nodded.

“Right. No point worrying about it.” Your eyes darted around the room, half hoping to catch another glimpse of Bucky, half hoping to avoid any further encounters.

It wasn’t long before you found your own group of castmates, producers and studio bodies, the memory of bumping into Bucky fading into the background. You were soon caught up in the whirlwind of conversations about upcoming projects, gossip and industry news.

The afternoon slipped away, with Dani diligently whipping out her phone to note down the various commitments and events you were being invited to. Your schedule was becoming increasingly hectic, and the thought of everything the rest of the week had in store caused a riot of nerves in your stomach.

“You should run a side hustle as my glamorous assistant,” you teased.

“Hmm, the best organised hair stylist in the industry. Curling wand in one hand, calendar in the other.” She laughed, linking her arm through yours.

“Thank you,” you kissed her cheek softly.

“The studio would get you an assistant, you know?”

“I think I prefer you, if you’re not too busy?”

“You’re the only one I’m here for, babe. Just make sure I have enough time to do your hair.”

You grinned at her, your heart swelling with affection.

“You’re the best. No one else is stealing you away.”

“You dragged me to Toronto,” she said as if it had been a hardship, “of course no one else is stealing me!”

Relief washed over you, having her and Lulu with you was grounding and comforting.

You made your way towards the exit, ready for a reprieve from the hectic, whirlwind of an afternoon.

The cinema was dark, filled with a growing hum of anticipation. You’d dressed down today, in jeans and a sweater, the polar opposite of awards season glam. It was a relief to be an unknown, no one paid you any mind as you slunk down into your seat and took the popcorn box from Lulu.

Your studio had given you tickets to the Howling Commandos premiere and panel and as the opening credits rolled, you noticed Bucky Barnes slip into the theatre and take a seat next to Yelena Belova on the front row, their heads bent as they whispered to each other.

You tore your eyes away and concentrated on the movie.

It quickly pulled you in, the dialogue, the visuals, the acting. You could feel the tension radiating from the screen.

Two hours later, tears streaked your face, the film's emotional punches had hit just right. It had been more powerful than you anticipated and you couldn’t wait to hear from the director as the lights flicked back on.

The energy in the theatre was electric as Belova, Barnes and Torres made their way to the stage, guided by a local journalist acting as the moderator.

You paid close attention.

You were used to a surface level of media scrutiny, the local paper outside the theatre after a show, but you had a feeling that nothing could prepare you for your own up and coming premiere.

The cast of the Howling Commandos were clearly comfortable in front of such a large audience, and played off the panel's questions with ease.

They were a joy to watch.

Insightful, witty… Belova heaped praise on her starring actors and they responded in kind.

They left you in awe.

You'd crept forwards, onto the edge of your seat.

“And what are you guys looking forward to seeing over the next few days?” The moderator asked curiously.

“The Stark documentary for me,” Joaquin Torres grinned.

“Cabaret looks so fun.” Yelena added.

“For me, it's Cabaret and also the new John Walker movie,” Bucky said with a smirk, the audience erupted into laughter at the mention of his box office rival and Winter Soldier co-star.

“Musical fans, huh? Think we might see you in a musical one day?”

Bucky scoffed.

“God no, no one wants to hear me sing,” he laughed. The audience vehemently disagreed, as did Yelena.

“She's gonna put you in one,” Torres laughed, slapping Bucky on the back.

“She can try!”

“I'm gonna write it next,” she teased.

From far up in the auditorium, you could see the tops of Bucky’s ears pink.

Next to you, Lulu's hand reached for yours, gripping tightly and leaving crescent moon shapes on your palm.

“He's coming to see your movie tomorrow,” she hissed.

“Of course he's not, he's just saying that to be polite. He probably can't even go and get a coffee without getting mobbed. How's he going to sit in a movie theatre?” You fobbed her off but her words lingered in your mind.

The panel concluded its questions, and the auditorium burst into applause.

The cast was shepherded out of the room, fans already gathering, eager to catch a glimpse of their favourite actors.

You slipped through the crowded space, trying to stay out of the way. Lulu was ahead of you, navigating her way out of the area, and Dani stayed right behind you.

It was highly unlikely you’d be recognised here, but you'd already begun to notice an uptick in the number of people doing a double take when they saw you, from the girl in your gym class that morning, to the barista at the coffee shop at lunchtime.

You couldn't help but notice that the thin veil of anonymity you had enjoyed was quickly slipping away. With your own movie premiere just around the corner, you knew it was only a matter of time before your face was plastered everywhere.

“Sit still please,” Lulu breathed, her face millimeters from yours and pinched in concentration as she applied false lashes to your own.

You did as she asked and tried not to look past her at the outfit Becka was steaming. The first of three, one for morning interviews, one for the premiere and one for the party your studio was hosting that night. Next to Lulu, Dani unfurled her case of equipment.

“Hair up or down?” She asked, not you though, she was asking Becka.

Becka took a moment to examine the outfits.

“Can we do up today and have it down later tonight?”

“That’s fine, I can style it loosely so it’s easy to take down this evening.”

“It’s so exciting!” Lulu giggled. She finished the lashes and stood up straight, stretching her back.

“Scary exciting,” you corrected her. “My butterflies have got butterflies.”

She switched places with Dani who squeezed your shoulder before brushing through your hair.

“Just be yourself and have fun,” she chimed in.

Easier said than done.

You embraced the interviews, your confidence growing with each publication. It was a relief to know you’d done all you could to support your movie and to give it the hype - and the premiere - you felt it deserved.

The girls had gone ahead of you to the theatre, leaving you to walk the red carpet alone.

Your co-stars took you under their wing.

Despite it being your face (and ass) on the billboards, there were relatively few flashes from the photographers.

“They’ll regret sleeping on this moment, love,” your charming movie love interest, Steve Rogers told you warmly from a few steps further along the carpet.

“Doesn’t bother me in the slightest,” you smiled, “I think I prefer them not caring who I am.”

“Spoken like a true star in the making,” he moved to your side and the photographers went into a frenzy, “they’ll be fighting for your attention soon enough.”

Steve offered you his arm and you took it gratefully, leaving the red carpet behind and heading into the theatre.

It was a bigger auditorium than the one the previous night for the Howling Commandos movie, but yours was there on a much bigger budget and with a well known director attached.

You squeezed Steve's arm, slightly hesitant to follow him, but he pulled you along and into the room.

A cheer went up through the room at the sight of you both and you scanned the crowd for a glimpse of the girls as the lights began to fade. Just as you gave up hope of spotting them, you saw Dani’s hand fly into the air and wave. You blew her a quick kiss and sat down.

You could hear the murmurs of anticipation in the darkness, rustles of people shifting in their seats and getting comfortable.

This was the first time you would see the finished product - the final edit of the film you’d poured your soul into, upended your entire life for.

You were nervous at seeing yourself on screen, but there was also a thread of excitement, making your heart race.

This was the kind of life changing event that you, and others in your circumstances, had always talked about.

And yes, it could all be over by this time tomorrow.

The movie could flop, and you’d go back to being one of the nuns on the Sister Act tour, or one of the Mean Girls.

Your company would welcome you back with plenty of gin and hugs, and life would go on.

But for this night, this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you wanted to soak it all in.

As the film unravelled before you, you hardly recognised yourself on screen.

The movie transported you, your memories of filming and rehearsals merging with the outcome you were now finally watching.

An overwhelming sense of pride filled you.

When the screen went black and the credits rolled, the audience erupted into a deafening applause.

It drowned out everything around you and you could barely hear the moderator call you to the stage for the panel.

As you lined up on the stage, the applause slowly died down.

The host smiled warmly.

“Welcome, and congratulations! It seems like these guys are pretty happy with the movie!”

Cheers and shouts filled the room again.

“Thank you so much!” Steve called out to the audience.

“We'll come to our leading lady first of all, huge experience for you, how's it feel?” She asked you excitedly.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to describe the mix of emotions coursing through you. It was hard to articulate something that was so difficult to explain, it all felt so alien to you.

“Gosh, it's crazy!” You exclaimed happily. “I'm blown away by all the support - I can't thank you enough.”

The audience cheered in response to your heartfelt gratitude, the energy in the room sky high.

“Now, for those who don't know, you're an accomplished stage performer, how different was this to your usual?” The moderator asked.

You took a moment to consider the question.

“It's definitely a different experience. Theater is live, it's raw and in the moment - no redos or do overs,” you explained, pausing for a breath.

“You say that, but is it true you sang each take live?” she queried.

“Yeah, I didn't realise until a few takes in that I didn't have to belt it out every time,” you admitted sheepishly.

There was a murmurer of laughter through the audience. You laughed with them, your cheeks turning pink at the revelation.

“Oh, your poor voice! I can only guess how your throat must have felt after a few takes on those songs.”

The questions progressed quickly through updating the original musical for a modern audience and the casting process before the host wrapped up with some more lighthearted queries.

“Were there any other inspirations both you and the production team drew on aside from the movie and the stage show?” She asked.

“Absolutely, for me in particular I watched a lot of Chicago, Sweet Charity, Burlesque… movies with incredible choreography and those instantly recognisable songs.”

“Well it certainly shows, the movie blends seamlessly into the modern era,” the host encouraged.

“It does, I think it helps that it was already such a forward-thinking show to begin with. The themes really are timeless.” Steve added.

“And finally, have you had a chance to see any of the movies being shopped around yet?”

“I'm seeing the Stark documentary tomorrow,” Steve offered.

“And I saw Howling Commandos yesterday,” you smiled.

“How was it?”

“A masterpiece. I cried through the whole thing. The cast were incredible -”

“Bucky Barnes, right?” She interrupted and the audience in your theatre cheered loudly. You nodded in agreement.

“He was… beautiful to watch. And so lucky to work with Yelena Belova, she's a visionary.”

The host thanked you and the rest of the cast, and the event security appeared from the wings, ready to prevent the audience from rushing down to the stage and mobbing the cast.

From your vantage point, you could see Dani sitting about halfway back in the auditorium, waving enthusiastically.

You caught her eye and waved back, the brightness of the auditorium lights now illuminating her features clearly.

The man sitting directly in front of her seemed a little bewildered by your exchange, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and curiosity.

He appeared familiar, but the baseball cap he was wearing hid most of his face from your view.

You found yourself squinting, trying to get a better look at him.

The man's shoulders looked broad and toned, his frame solid. As you leaned slightly to the side to get a better angle, the man jerked his head up, noticing your curious gaze.

Bucky Barnes remained unphased and held your gaze for a moment without blinking, challenging you to make a scene by drawing attention to him.

After what felt like an eternity, he winked, the corner of his mouth lifted into a sly smirk.

You felt your cheeks heat up under the bright lights, and embarrassed, tore your eyes away from him, focusing your attention back on the studio PR rep who was outlining the plan for the short meet-and-greet sessions and the after-party event following the screening.

Your heart thundered in your chest, your mouth suddenly dry but your hands clammy.

It felt inevitable that you’d run into Bucky again - though hopefully figuratively rather than literally - the Hollywood press was in a frenzy, hyping up the impact that both movies would have on the upcoming awards season.

Anticipation coiled and twisted in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again, and the very real possibility of talking to him. You’d be lying if you said the notion didn’t exhilarate you.

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littlebatgames · 10 months ago

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Cowboys + Vampires = yes please

When I first started writing Vampire Therapist, this guy was the player character.

Andromachos is 3000 years old. He's experienced, strong, and intimidatingly good looking. When I started putting him in front of the game's therapy clients, I found that Andromachos was so wise, he sucked all the humor out of the room. Beyond that, I think his clients were a little afraid of disappointing him.

I recast him in the role of mentor, and as an experiment, I recast the therapist as a cowboy, doing a silly voice in my studio. But it stuck. It turns out that a cowboy was just what the Vampire Therapist story needed. Cowboys are more attuned to the earth -- they "touch grass." They're more folksy, much easier to approach than a character like Andromachos. I also needed a character that would learn along with the player, which is how I came up with Sam Walls.

Here are some of our earlier renderings of Sam. Since he's *been through it*, we wanted to show some world weariness and humanity.

He looks great! He's a very handsome fella, crushworthy in his own right. But the core of Vampire Therapist is in compassion and humor, so we needed to lighten up Sam some. If you've played the game, you know he's a pretty lighthearted fella!

These are some of @nomnomroko's first renderings of Sam. You can see her style coming through here, retaining Sam's humanity but with the harder line style that we use on Vampire Therapist to make characters extra characterful and expressive. We decided on a mix of C and D, and got to work on some of the first pose renderings.

You can see the benefits of the Vampire Therapist style coming through already in the highly expressive faces we needed to depict a truly compassionate therapist! Also, @nomnomroko's extraordinary hands.

Costume choices. This was feeling a little formal, and we thought we could play to our strengths even more by showing a bit more skin. After more tweaks and shading, we had our man.

It's incredibly gratifying to see players resonating with Sam's sweetness, patience, and compassion, and his character design really helps reinforce those characteristics. The most common word we get associated with him is "adorable," and although that might make him feel awkward, I guess one can't argue with reality.

Check out our Steam page to learn more about Vampire Therapist! We've made something fun and heartwarming and I'd love for you to wishlist it. If we do well, I've got some crazy ideas and characters planned for the sequel!

#vampires #cowboys #vampire therapist #vampire cowboy #indie games #therapy #mental health #character design #character art #art

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osc-plurals-confessions · 4 months ago

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Greetings and Salutations!

As the name suggests, this blog was created specifically for those who wish to submit their experiences of being

fictives/fictionkin/alterhuman/Au versions ect! A little community for people to retreat to!

OSC PLURAL SERVER:

https://discord.gg/Ud9uN2KQPh

Tags that will be used:

#osc-plurals-confessions

#osc-plurals

A bit about the Mods:

HOSTS:

Name: Applin / Sam

Pronouns: He/They

Sys: The Cybernetics

Extra stuff: We are an OSDD 1B System known as the Cybernetics, this due to our C-PTSD and trauma.

-------------------------------------------------------

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ Second Mod Info!! 𖹭

𐙚 Names ~ Sweet/Sweets/Cuppa/Tea 𖹭

𐙚 Sys ~ The Sweethearts 𖹭

𐙚 Pronouns ~ She/They/It 𖹭

𐙚 Other info ~ Hellohello! We are suspecting to be an OSDD system, as we have C-PTSD due to trauma. Still working things out though!

-------------------------------------------

ALTERS/FICTIVES WHO RUN THE BLOG:

Name: Mephone4 / Mike

Pronouns: He / They / 4 / 4self

About: I am typically the advice giver and comforter.I have some knowledge of systems due to research and personal experience, however by no means am I an expert or professional. Please do not take my word as such. My text is typically in blue.

Name: Fan / Finn

Pronouns: He / it

About: I am usually the blog's know-it-all! I know how to use this website and I know the rules practically inside and out! I am not again an expert or a technician! I am just a nerd! I like to usually reply to silly things with a funny or light hearted response. I am the, clown here if you will. My text is typically in red! I also love using emojis a lot.

------------------------------------

𖹭 SWEETS' FICTKINS ON THIS BLOG:

𐙚 Name ~ Two/Thomas 𖹭

𐙚 Pronouns ~ They/Them 𖹭

𐙚 About: Hiya! I am the co-host for The Sweethearts!! I am able two give comfort and affirmations, and advice two an extent!! I may also answer light-hearted confessions two!! My text will be in green for reference!!

𐙚 Name ~ Bow/Bonnie 𖹭

𐙚 Pronouns ~ She/It 𖹭

𐙚 About: Hiiii!!! Like my name is Bow!! Yahh, I'm like 15 mentally, sooo yah! I'm probably gonna answer like silly confessions and all that, but I might like give a little bit of advice every now and then! My text is pink and has my like symbol thing! -> ~ ⪩○⪨

Main blog: @justanapplenothinghere

Main blog: @ikintwosm

RULES:

No system discourse please. I would rather avoid having arguments through asks.

I will not be posting any offensive or rude confessions / responses to anons or ANYONE else. Character hate is okay as long as it's not directed at anyone in particular also if it isn't taken too far.

You can absolutely express your opinions, experiences ect. But do tell me if your confession must be given a Trigger warning for sensitive topics such as e.g : ab*se.

Be nice, I mean that's just common sense but sometimes it still has to be said.

I'm not keeping track of what signoffs are claimed or not. However what I can do is create for you a custom tag based on your signoff. That way it's easier.

Offensive object shows such as object redundancy and others are banned from being talked here.

Lastly, do bare in mind I do have a life and other blogs to run including this one. I'll be trying to post at least somewhat daily but please do not harass me for forgetting or being slow. Most likely I have received your ask amongst the others that it may have gotten buried.

DNIS:

PROSHIPPERS/DARKSHIPPERS/NSFW/ABLISM/RACISM/TRANSPHOBES/HOMOPHOBES/ZIONISTS/GATEKEEPERS OF CHARACTERS

Now that THAT'S taken care of, we can finally start!

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sashiavi · 8 months ago

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Oh no, now all I can think about is licking whipped cream off of puppy sam's body...

Darn you.. you made my brain work- ♡♡

I ate a custard donut >:] going back for the c r e a m the second I post this

Poor Puppy Sammy whimpers and whines, warbling little trills in the back of his throat, feeling the cold spritz of whipped cream swirl over his skin.

His puppy ears crane and twitch at the loud 'Krrsh' of the can, his tongue parting through his pink, wet lips, pressing delicately into one of his pointed canines. He wanted a taste too! It wasn't fair, watching you lick up sweet, whipped cream off of his chest and tummy.

His chin tilts up when your warm, wet tongue glides over him, lapping up the cool cream, his own Adam's apple bobbing at the feeling.

"So sweet, Sammy.." Your voice cooes and he almost sobs- worked up by the caress of your tongue, swirling creamy white all over his pink, perky nipples. He was teary eyed, throat wobbly with dumb puppy noises, lips stuck in a permanent frown, nose smelling that milky sweetness.

Silly Puppies, all sex and food motivated.

"Please-" Sam croaks, choppy with a stuttered whimper. "T-Taste?" He cocks his head sweetly, eyebrows pitched up, sweetest most dazzling puppy dog eyes he could muster.

"Nawhh.." You tut, sitting yourself nicely in his lap, pointer finger pressing into his bottom lip, urging Sammy to open. He obediently does, sticking out his tongue, pretty canines on show, teary eyes fluttering. You bring the can up, keeping a nice hold on his chin, spraying that sweet cream on his tongue.

The can stutters, flicking that milky stuff all over his tongue, spattering on his cheek, choking itself with the last remnants of product left. You toss it, watching the cream immediately melt on his tongue, threatening to dribble down with spit, down his chin.. what a waste.

You lick. One fat strip up his chin, swirling your tongue around his own, mingling and caressing, feeling that soft brush of your tastebuds lap at eachother and the sweet melted whipped cream.

Sammy moans. A whiny noise, long and keening, toes curling, tail doing its best to wag under him, finally, finally getting a sweet taste and more- with your lovely velvet tongue in his throat, he can't help the soft buck of his hips, the Puppy humps he makes against your thigh. He dribbles and drips, his own milky sweetness staining on your skin, ahh! So sticky! Creamy too, you're so sweet to him.

Sweeter than cream~

#sashiavi mail 💌#ʚ•*°sashiavi writes°*•ɞ #stardew valley smut #sdv sam #stardew sam #stardew valley sam #stardew sam smut #sdv sam smut #stardew valley sam smut #stardew valley

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via-l0ve · 2 years ago

Note

perhaps maybe some sam and colby headcannons? like if u joined them on a vid or something with a little silly romance !! i love all the headcannons you do and i am absolutely rolling around on the ground at the goofy ones 🫶🫶

S&C Headcannons! 👻

a/n: hi i love sam and colby they’re so cute and funky LMFAOO. i see a lot of colby x readers so i decided to make this a sam x reader 🩷🩷 love you guys! this is kind of short, so if you want me to do a pt. 2 js lmk!!!

Warnings: sam x gn!reader (romantic), colby x gn! reader (platonic), swearing, ghost hunting lol

you get to intro the video and the boys are sitting next to you like 😀👍

they make you introduce yourself and give you a little title card with some swaggy music

Sam is always next to you and you’re definitely wearing some of his XPLR merch

you’re holding the camera and something scary happens and you LAUNCH the camera and it hits colby in the stomach

you’re dying and sam is cackling and colby is crying because ouch

let’s say you’re at a haunted hotel or something and you have a guide and you’re really into it and getting all the lore and the guys are behind you talking about harry styles and how colby’s ball hurts from that camera throw

sam has an arm wrapped around you all the time

the guide brings you into the most haunted room and you’re looking all around and getting chills

ALWAYS sending weird glances to the camera

if you’re filming you make sure to get really bad angles of the boys

you guys have a one direction concert in the car

Colby gets scared and jumps back and bumps into you and you grab his sweatshirt but you loose your balance and fall into sam and sam falls and colby falls ontop of you and you go

*WHEEZE*

and everyone is so concerned

had to take a break after that one

when you ask the questions to the ghosts they answer fr and sam is nervous for you

they both think you might have an empath thing going on

you have to do the estes method and sam is so worried, colby is standing right next to you like a worried parent

the moment you feel nervous sam dosent make you stay if you’re uncomfortable but you always end up staying anyways cus you ain’t no BITCH

colby screeches like a child every time something happens

let’s say you get scratched

sam is SPRINTING with some Neosporin or something

colby is freaking out

“ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod”

sam always calls you down

forehead and cheek kisses constantly

#love u mwah #thank you sm for this request #sam golbach #sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach x reader

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wingardiumlevibvllshit · 2 months ago

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samguel brainrot is hitting so hard rn i miss them already so here are some random silly headcanons

sam is the driver in the relationship and miguel is the most attentive passenger princess you've ever seen

holding her coffee for her to drink while she drives, feeding her snacks, texting people for her, etc

and his hand is practically glued to her thigh, waiting for her hand to let go of the steering wheel

sam is a huge swiftie and she plays almost exclusively taylor in her car so now miguel knows the lyrics to almost every song

(his favourite album is red tv but his favourite song is the best day tv bc he too loves his mom)

(sam's favourite album is evermore and her favourite song is this love tv)

saturday is always date night and they both prefer activity dates so they usually go to the arcade, bowling, laser tag, etc

they did the alphabet date challenge and for c they decided to do cooking, specifically lucille's chicken cacciatore (keeping with the c theme)

if s5ep3 is any indication, miguel is not that great in the kitchen but he tried to help sam any way he could, which was primarily handing her stuff and telling her how pretty she looked

they only disagreed once, when it came to g, because sam wanted to go on a ghost tour and miguel preferred go karting, since they would go on a haunted house for h anyway

they ended up going go karting, because miguel smiled at sam and she forgot what she was saying

miguel's favourite letter was u - underground cave tour (for the next like five weeks his lockscreen was a picture of sam in the goofy helmet and she rolled her eyes at it whenever she saw it)

sam's favourite letter was m - murder mystery dinner (she got super competitive and changed miguel's contact name into 'public enemy #1' bc he solved it like a minute before she did)

they both love to babysit laura so much and especially love taking her to the park

(sam just about melted when she caught miguel taking a nap on the couch with an also sleeping laura in his arms)

#just...them #i miss them #them being domestic is actually so important to me #and i love the idea of them being so into each other #cobra kai #samantha larusso #sam larusso #miguel diaz #samguel

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deanswhiskey · 1 year ago

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𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 - 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

summary; while stuck at home, you find some christmas decorations in a storage closet

wc; 1935

warnings; kissing, tooth-rotting christmas themed fluff, that’s really it

authors note; merry christmas and happy holidays!!

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

christmas had always been your favorite holiday growing up. you hadn’t spent much time celebrating since you started hunting. your parents were hunters but they sent you to your uncle bobby’s whenever they’d hunt. you didn’t know what was happening, just excited to see your uncle.

when you started hunting, looking for whoever, or whatever, killed your parents, you didn’t get to celebrate much anymore. the days mushed together half the time.

after you met sam and dean, and eventually joined them, you tried to bring as much of the holidays as you could, seeing as they didn’t get to much.

you find little plastic decorations at the shitty gas stations you’d stop at in different cities and states. hanging christmas scented air fresheners from the mirror in deans car, even when he’d get annoyed, he couldn't say anything because he knew how much you loved it. you’d always buy funny little headbands for sam and dean to wear too, just so you could snap pictures of them on your camera.

it was midday in december when the boys were leaning up against baby while you were inside the gas station. “geez, what’s takin’ her so friggin long?” dean asked while checking his watch. he’d finished pumping gasoline what felt like a half hour ago.

you walked out of the gas station with a slightly full grocery bag and a huge smile on your face. they knew that smile. that ‘i-just-got-something-you-won’t-like-smile’.

you walked up to the boys and before you could even say anything, dean interrupted, “what did you get this time?”

you fake acted offended, “how dare you, dean!” you then giggled and pulled out two silly christmas headbands. one was reindeer antlers one had to little santa hats on springs that moved around.

they both gave you a look. they didn’t want to wear them but they were anyways. you ripped the little bit of packaging tbh eh had and held them out, silently telling them to pick one.

sam grabbed the one with the reindeer antlers and set them on his head. you continued to hold out the santa hat one. dean rolled his eyes and put them on. “don’t give me that, dean, you love it.” you chuckled at the dancing santa hats on his head.

you reached down into the backseat through the window to grab your camera out of your bag. “smile!” you said turning on your camera. and they did, they smiled for you. you snapped the picture of your two boys looking adorable in their christmas headbands.

when the three of you found the bunker, there were rooms upon rooms upon rooms to discover.

during a hunt, you got badly injured. one of the vamps had harshly shoved you and you fell down some old stairs, leading you to breaking your foot.

now the boys stopped hunting for a little less than a month so they could tend to you, even against your wishes not to.

sam spent most of the time right next to you; he didn’t want you out of his sight. he acted as if you were sick and could hardly stand.

“i’m not terminally ill, sam,” you said with a giggle as he picked you up to move you from the kitchen to the couch in the living room.

“i know, my love, i’m just being cautious,” he said stopping and giving your forehead a kiss.

once the doctor released you of your crutches, leaving you with just a boot, the boys finally went back to hunting. sam, reluctantly, agreed, with the exception that he’d call you multiple times to make sure you’re okay.

one of the days the boys were away, you decided to go through some of the storage closets you three had yet to go through.

you limped down the halls making your way to one of many. the room was lined with various boxes and cabinets that had a thin coat of dust.

you opened the first box which had nothing but spare bedding. thankful it was the first box you opened; definitely setting that aside to take out and put them in a closer storage closet.

the next box had old clothes, along with the next few boxes.

the next box you picked up and dusted off made a noise; a jingle sort of noise. you took your box cutter and quickly opened the box.

to your surprise, it was christmas decorations. the men of letters must’ve loved christmas. you couldn't find a tree in sight, nor any ornaments. that was okay, there were plenty of other decorations to do the trick.

you looked over at the pile the box was in to see if there were any more. you only found one more box which was full of string lights. you carried the boxes, one at a time, to the living room to start setting up what decorations you had.

your phone was set out on a table with a speaker connected to it and you had christmas music blaring through the bunker. you wanted to start with the lights. so that’s what you did. you grabbed the step ladder from a closet, the bag of push pins, and many extension cords and went to work. you wrapped the main staircase railing and many door frames and miscellaneous pieces of furniture with the yellow christmas lights.

next up was this little christmas village you found. there was a perfect table in the library for this. you grabbed the empty light box and put all the different pieces into it and carried that to the library. you meticulously placed each little building and extra pieces just the way you wanted.

the last of the decorations went up and there was only one left. the mistletoe. where could i put it, you thought to yourself.

it had to be somewhere where everyone could see but not in a doorway where everyone stands often. you decided to put it on the doorway to the living room. it was a simple and easy place to put it.

you grabbed a thumb tack and hung it up there, careful not to fall off the ladder with your boot. if sam knew that you were climbing on a ladder with a boot on your foot, he’d throw a fit, demand you sit on the couch and he do all the work.

not long after you hung the mistletoe, you made yourself some hot chocolate and cozied on up on the couch with the book you were currently reading. the christmas music was still playing but it was soft now.

sam had texted you he’d be home soon about 15 minutes ago and now you were just anticipating their arrival. you were so excited to show the boys the new and improved, and festive, bunker.

your ears perked up as you heard the best bunker door begin to open. you all but threw your blanket off of you and placed your book open face down and rushed to the door.

“holy shit,” you heard dean say in the distance. you fretted the boys as they were walking down the stairs. their eyes lit up and they scanned the room and beyond of the decorations.

“what’s all this, sweetheart?” sam said leaning to give you a kiss, half still distracted at all the decor.

“i was going through some closets and found a whole bunch of christmas decorations!” you beamed.

dean set his duffel bag on the table in the war room and went to go look around in the library and further.

sam set his duffel done too but stayed with you. you were admiring the joy on his face; you could tell he needed some holiday joy, especially since he never really got to have this.

“this is,” sam paused, speechless. he didn’t know how to describe this. “amazing. i can't believe you did all of this.” he smile wide as he looked at you.

you smiled back, impossibly harder since your smile was already big. sam interrupted you before you could get a word out. “wait,” you brows furrowed slightly. “did you climb up on a ladder to hang this stuff?” he questioned.

you simply nodded. you knew he was gonna be upset, he won’t be too upset with you, just concerned. “y/n, you could’ve hurt yourself further.”

“sam, baby, i’m okay. i promise i was extra extra careful. just for you.” you grabbed his hands, rubbing the back of them with your thumb to reassure him.

he just looked at you with worry in his eyes. “i’m okay, baby. why don’t you go take a shower,” you lean up closer to his face. “then meet me under the mistletoe.” you gave him a sweet kiss before patting his butt, the two of you giggling.

a little while later, you sat in the living room waiting for the love of your life. christmas music still softly filled the living room while you sipped on the last of your hot chocolate.

sam walked in, his sweatpants hanging low and his navy blue v-neck hugged him perfectly. his hair still wet but not dripping. he looked beautiful. he stood under the mistletoe and leaned against the door frame.

you looked up at him and smiled with adoration. you made your way over to your beautiful boyfriend.

standing in front of his tall frame you look up at him, “can we dance?” you ask.

“of course, my love.” he says contently taking your right hand in his left. his right went around your waist. your left rested on his chest.

the two of you just gazed into each others eyes while you rocked back and forth. elvis’ ‘blue christmas’ played softly in the background. it was one of your and sams favorite christmas songs.

occasionally, sam would spin you just to hear those melodic, beautiful giggles.

your head now resting on his chest; hearing his heartbeat was so relaxing to you.

“hey,” you look up at him. “we’re still under the mistletoe, you know.” sam smiled.

you look up and the mistletoe you hung up earlier, “huh, i guess so.”

the two of you kept your gaze before sam slowly dipped his head down. the two of you fit perfectly like a puzzle piece.

his lips soft against your as they moved in sync with yours. sams hands found theirs way to your thighs, lifting you up while your hands made their way around his neck, tangling in his hair; his lips never left yours.

sam blindly made his way to the couch, sitting down with you straddling him. the kiss didn’t last much longer. you pulled away and laid back against his chest, cuddling into him.

sam was the first to speak up, “this place looks amazing, baby, i’m proud of you.”

“thank you, sam.” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, laying back down against him.

the cinnamon candle you lit earlier was still burning and the christmas music still played as the two of you fell asleep on the couch.

the next morning, dean made his way to the kitchen and brewed himself a fresh cup of coffee. the coffee finished breeding and he added whatever he did necessary for the perfect cup. he took that cup and walked to the living room, unsuspecting of the two of you sleeping there.

he approached the living room and saw the two of you, you were in almost the exact same position as when you fell asleep. dean chuckled to himself, “those kids.” he said before sipping his coffee and walking back to the kitchen.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

#spn #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural fic

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mylovelies-docx · 1 year ago

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Sorry, I Love You - Part 12

I am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry for this.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Angst (!!!), murder, blood, guns, violence, death.

(I PROMISE EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY! You've just gotta trust me.)

Word Count: 2,724

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

He can’t take the silence any longer. You should have been home hours ago.

All his texts go unanswered and his calls go straight to voicemail. You’ve had late nights at the HYDRA base, but never this late – never an early morning kind of late.

He knows you’re capable. Knows that you’re one of the strongest people, the best agent, the best everything, but something doesn’t feel right. He can’t feel you. He knows that’s stupid – that he isn’t psychic or empathic or whatever he’d need to be to feel someone’s presence when they’re not in the room with him, but he’s always felt you.

He can feel you down in his bones, his body unable to forget your voice, your laugh, your smell, your body beside, on, under his own. There’s no one in this universe that he knows better, that knows him better, than anyone else.

Used to know. Until he fucked it up. Until he fucked everything up and drove you away. Drove you so far away that you weren’t even on the same continent for months, that you never picked up the phone and called him, that you didn’t send any silly texts at 2 am like you used to. He was too embarrassed and ashamed of his reaction to contact you first. He thought it’d be too impersonal to apologize over the phone and admit how scared he was when you confessed to loving him and how sorry he is for what he did afterwards.

That’s why he sent Steve and Sam to bring you home: so that he could see you again and explain himself to you and hopefully confess that, yes of course he loves you too. He was so nervous as he watched the quinjet approach, worried that you wouldn’t like his outfit, or the stubble on his jaw, or his new haircut that he got for you because he remembered how often you’d run your fingers through it and comment on how hot you thought shorter hair would look on him.

But then he cornered you in that hallway. Felt his heart break as you told him that you got over him, that you didn’t love him anymore and never did in any meaningful way. You assured him that you could be friends again if that’s what he wanted.

Of course that’s what he wanted. Of course he wanted to be friends. But he also wanted everything else – what you had before that night at the movies and what you could have had after. He wanted the date nights, and forehead kisses, and hand holding. He wanted the quick fucks, and makeout sessions, and love-making. He wanted all of it with you.

He still does.

But you don’t.

He will forever regret the words he said to you that drove you away and dissolved the love that you felt for him. He will never forgive himself for taking away your future together. And after that disastrous conversation with you about Petre, he feels like he’s gone right back to square one. He doesn’t know what to do with his emotions and can’t express himself properly to save his life.

He knows what you said, knows the meaning behind the individual words you spoke to him last night: that you and Petre are not together in any way. But Bucky knows that isn’t what Petre wants – knows that Petre wants you in a way that Bucky used to have you, that Bucky could have had you, and more. Because Bucky sees the way that Petre looks at you, the way his eyes follow you around the room as you say hello and chat with his family when they’re around.

Knows that Petre has already asked his mother if she knew of anything else about you before he moved forward with a proposal, if there was somewhere specific he should do it, what else to bring besides his grandmother’s ring. Petre had been across the room with Tessa during this conversation, but Bucky’s serum-enhanced hearing picked it up and he knew that Petre was head-over-heels for you because how could he not be?

He’ll also never forgive himself if something happened to you at HYDRA. Your argument from last night has been lingering between the two of you, and he doesn’t know what to do to fix it – it’s just the actual process and action of initiating that conversation and exposing his squishy insides to you that causes his brain to shut down and his mouth to spew out stupid shit. He knows that you would never turn him away for being vulnerable, but just the way he’s acted when feelings have come up… it leaves a sour taste in his mouth and he’s sure it’s left one in yours as well.

But you were supposed to call him at lunchtime and he would have said everything he’s been bottling up right then and there. Would have blurted it out because god damn him and his stupid mouth because every time he’s tried to bring it up, he’s fucked up and he hurt you. He doesn’t want to – can’t do that to you again. If you had just called when you said you would, it would have all been cleared up by now and you’d be home and hopefully in his arms and, and, and.

But you didn’t call. You’re not home. Bucky hasn’t apologized.

He’s already called Steve and requested backup – he’d rather be safe than sorry. Now all he’s waiting on is –

His phone that he’d left faceup on the countertop before him beeps and the screen flashes with a notification. Tony finally sent the link to track your location, letting him know where you’re at. Before his heart can even beat again, another message scrolls across the top of his screen.

That’s all Bucky needs before he races out the door, not even bothering to grab a coat before the door slams behind him. Tony’s second message burns behind Bucky’s eyes and makes it hard to think.

Hurry. Something’s not right…

***

The ATV Bucky ‘borrowed’ off one of the neighbors is perfectly capable of getting someone where they’re going, but Bucky grew frustrated with the speed as soon as he raced away with it. He’d have been happier on his souped-up motorcycle, roaring down the roads and sending gravel flying, but it’d be impractical on the freshly fallen snow and hilly terrain.

His heart stutters in his chest every time he looks down at your tracker’s location and doesn't see it moving. There’s no way you’d be sitting idly in one spot deep in the forest, nearly 20 miles away from the HYDRA base and the house you’ve been sharing with Bucky. The home the two of you have made since arriving.

He thinks of how the two of you should be at the house now - fast asleep, maybe in the same bed if he’d found the right words to tell you what’s been going on in his head, why he was being such a asshole yesterday and how he never should have said any of the shit he did – or at least phrased it better, correctly.

Every time Bucky remembers your fight last night, he feels the air leave his lungs and a fist form in his throat. The way your face had crumpled when he said you could be together again but then immediately shifted into a flat stare, no emotion evident when you told him that he was the reason that could never happen. Your broken voice when he tried to approach you again when he followed you home. The wrenching, muffled sobs he could hear you trying to smother across the hall as he laid there wide awake, his own tears soaking the pillow.

If Bucky could turn back time, he never would have asked you to be friends-with-benefits. His emotions were all over the place and he was still relishing his freedom, his autonomy that had been returned to him. He didn’t think he wanted any kind of committed relationship back then because he thought it would suffocate him, make him feel like he wasn’t his own person anymore, that there was someone that he had to answer to again.

He should have known that you wouldn’t have made him feel that way – that you are the exception to every rule and that you always helped build him up, never once did anything that made him feel suffocated or out of control. He’d been the one to initiate your friendship, he’d been the one that sought you out for no-strings-attached sex. You’d only ever been there for him, followed him when he needed to get away from the others, listened when he needed to talk to someone. Loved him when he didn’t want to be loved.

And what did he do with that love? He threw it away, crushed it under the sole of his boot in that alley way, let you walk away from his life when you should have worked it out together.

When he’d finally gotten his head out of his ass and realized that all the late nights, deep conversations, the comfort and warmth he felt in your presence: that was love. He didn’t recognize it at the time, but he knew that you were important to him, that you were the only one he could spend so much time with and not become overwhelmed. It took you leaving for him to realize everything that you did for him, all the support you offered.

He spent a lot of time with his therapist after that. He used to be so angry at you and he knew it was unfair, that it wasn’t logical to be so mad at someone for falling in love, but he was. His therapist listened to his deepest, darkest, most wretched feelings about you, about himself. They helped him to realize that he wasn’t mad at you, that he was only frightened of the love you had for him and the feelings that brought up in him. He didn’t realize he found himself so unlovable and broken that he didn’t think anyone could love him like that. Could love him like you do.

Did. Love him like you did until he ruined that love like he always knew he would, deep down. It took a lot of time and effort, but he finally understands what he feels for you.

But now it might be too late.

Bucky is only a mile out from your location when he hears the barking of dogs and men yelling to each other. He pushes the ATV faster, dodging between trees and ducking under branches. Seconds later, Bucky sees lights bouncing off of a decrepit shack and agents wearing HYDRA uniforms scrambling around.

He takes one hand off the handle and pulls his pistol from the waistband of his pants. He clears the treeline and jumps from the vehicle, ducking and rolling onto the ground. The ATV flies forward and knocks down one of the agents. They all turn to investigate the commotion, and Bucky starts firing.

He shoots one, two, three people off of their feet and they collapse onto the ground in pools of blood. Realizing at this point that Bucky is a threat, the others around the cabin pull their weapons out and aim for Bucky. He clears the next six with one shot each, leaving only two standing and no bullets left in his magazine. Bucky launches the empty pistol straight into one of the assailant’s temples, sending him sprawling. At the same second the pistol leaves his hand, Bucky sprints at the remaining HYDRA agent and slams his metal fist into their face, blood and bone splattering.

Grabbing the gun from this last agent, Bucky grips it in his fist and enters the building. Pivoting side to side, there’s no one immediately in his line of sight. He can see blood spatters around the room, in front of the bookshelf and desk, and a pool of it right in front of him in the archway between rooms. Bucky can hear someone just on the other side of the wall and he adjusts his hands around the gun, finger hovering over the trigger.

Quickly rounding the open archway, Bucky finds his worst nightmare.

He sees you lying motionless on the ground, your warm, red blood steaming as it puddles around your body. A HYDRA operative stands over you, gun poised and ready.

Without another thought, Bucky unloads the weapon. He riddles the final agent with bullet holes, ensuring that their finger will never pull the trigger on you. He doesn’t watch as they fall, instead running towards you with only one thought in his head: Please. Please be alive.

Bucky reaches your body where you lie on your side, facing away from him. He quickly rolls you onto your back and watches as your head lolls from the motion.

“Y/N,” he calls hoarsely, placing his hands on your cheeks and patting quickly. “Y/N. Doll, wake up.”

Your eyes remain closed and you don’t move. Heart in his throat, Bucky places his fingers on your neck.

Nothing.

“Oh god,” Bucky whines.

Nausea roils in his stomach as Bucky places his hands one over the other on your chest, fingers interlocked. He begins compressions, forcing your heart to circulate what little blood remains in your veins. He feels your ribcage creak and groan under the pressure, knowing he will break bones but hoping the effort will revive you.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

Bucky removes his hands from your chest and uses them to tilt your head backwards, opening up your airway. He clamps your nose shut and presses his lips over yours, forcing two breaths into your lungs. He returns immediately to chest compressions, counting up to thirty again and repeating the process.

“Come on, doll. Come back to me.”

It feels like hours that Bucky crouches over your body, working hard to manually pump your heart and keep your brain oxygenated. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been without a pulse, but he’ll do anything to give you a chance at survival.

A loud whirring sound comes from outside and Bucky can hear boots hit the ground. He panics for a second, wondering how he’s going to keep you safe while also keeping you alive, until he hears Steve’s voice.

“Buck? Y/N?!”

“In here!” Bucky yells frantically.

Multiple people come barreling into the kitchen where Bucky is administering CPR. Shock and dread wash over everyone’s faces at the sight in front of them, but Bucky doesn’t have time for them to stand around. You don’t have time.

“Help her!” he cries, lungs and muscles burning. “Please!”

Natasha tries to rush forward, but her booted leg slows her down. Steve and Sam collapse on either side of your body, Sam pushing Bucky out of the way to start his own compressions. Bucky thunks to the ground, his body exhausted from the fear and effort of the last little while.

Wanda runs in, using her powers to suspend the regeneration cradle in the air and bring it over to you. Tony and Nat help Steve and Sam lift you up off the ground and into the machine as Bucky watches your cooling blood drip, drip, drip from your body.

Wanda’s face is wet with tears as she picks the cradle back up with you inside. Using a pulse from his palm, Tony blows a hole in the kitchen wall. Scraps of paper fly off the table and land near Bucky. Wanda takes you directly outside and into the waiting quinjet, Nat and Tony running alongside her.

A blast of cold air from the open wall slams into Bucky and chills him to his core. He looks down at himself and finds his hands and legs covered in blood. Your blood. One of the pieces of paper catches his eye as it turns red where it lays on the floor. He scoops it up gently and tries to make out what is written.

Bucky can tell instantly that it is your handwriting, but it’s nearly illegible now. He can barely make anything out, and what he can rips his heart to shreds. A wet hiccup tears out of Bucky’s throat and his hands start to quake uncontrollably as he stares at your words.

In case these are my last words,

Don’t be sad. I wish that I could have spent the rest of my life with you. I just want you all to know that I love you. so , so much.

“I’m too late,” he whispers. “She’s… she’s…”

Steve and Sam grab either of Bucky’s arms and drag him to his feet.

“We’ve gotta go, pal,” Steve says. “We’ve gotta get her to Helen!” Nodding his head, Bucky allows his friends to lead him outside and onto the jet.

He watches you lying in the cradle, not moving, the entire way home.

Part 13

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#sorry i love you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic

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