#ugh. good things. got a selection of GOOD THINGS on sale‚ stranger… my brain does that sometimes

[front-facing-pokemon]

[anonniemousefics]

Hello! I absolutely adore your writing, especially your writings of kanej! Anyway, I would love to see you write something about jealousy from either kaz or inej, I just think it would be interesting to see your take on it! Obviously you don’t have to, I love your work! You’re a great writer!

❤️ Thank you so much!! This was so sweet to receive, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get this to you! So, hopefully you’re cool with this, but I decided to apply this idea in a modern AU because I have another request I’m also working on for a modern AU and this felt like an opportunity for some more practice. 😊 (And it just made it more fun for me -- idk, my brain just needed to do something new with these characters to make this work.) 

Samples - Modern AU

Fandom: Six of Crows | Kaz + Inej (ft. all the other Crows)

Word Count: 3,545

Rating: Teen And Up (Language)

“Who did this?”

All of Kaz’s friends were doubling over in laughter around the round hand-me-down table in Kaz and Jesper’s apartment. There were black and white Cards Against Humanity prompts spread across its surface – the most offensive combination of which had Inej, well, and everyone else, in fits.

What made my first kiss so awkward? had been the prompt Inej had drawn.

To which Kaz had submitted the following, randomly-selected card for her consideration – Announcing that I am about to cum. And then kept his poker face locked in place.

“Who did this?” Inej was demanding again, clutching her stomach.

Kaz wasn’t sure why he was hesitating -- something strange was happening while all of this was playing out. Nina had one hand on Inej’s arm while she was fairly screeching with laughter. Inej was slumping against Jesper, like the laugh was shaking her boneless. In fact, everywhere he looked, he was noticing how they were each exchanging these casual, unconscious touches in the midst of their mirth – Matthias turning his face against Nina’s shoulder, Wylan slapping Jesper’s shoulder.

No one was touching Kaz, though – which, that was good, though, right? That was because they were his friends, and they were thoughtful, and they knew all about The Very Sad Thing that had made him the way that he was.

And yet --

Kaz couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. He should be laughing, though, he realized. A normal person would be laughing, given the infectious nature of laughter. And also it was genuinely a really funny card – that’s why he’d played it. But all he could do was force a smile, and that was it.

He suddenly felt like an alien among them.

“Was it you?!” Inej was exclaiming, waving the card at him. Kaz designed what he hoped was a coy smirk for her.

“Are you saying that’s your favorite?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It was you.” Inej looked appalled, which only made everyone around the table hoot louder. Kaz was still smirking as she threw his winning card back at him with a mischievous, red-faced grin on her face.

“Oh, my God, Brekker.” Nina was wiping the tears off her apple-red cheeks.

“Why does that make it so much worse?” Matthias wondered, since he evidently could never not take a jab at Kaz. He scrubbed his eyes like he needed to wash them out.

And still not a single laugh out of Kaz’s body – this was disturbing. How long had he been this way? And why did he care so much all of a sudden?

“Guys, I’m pretty sure he won,” Wylan was saying, pointing at Kaz’s stack of wins. Had he? Everyone turned to count their cards.

Jesus Christ, he hadn’t even been paying attention to winning? But Kaz loved winning. It was the only reason he tolerated his roommate hosting these raucous game nights – because it meant Kaz could win things. And usually a lot of things. It was especially choice winning things off of Matthias Helvar, Nina’s latest lughead boyfriend she’d met at the gym, who now had to be invited to everything even though he sucked. He was always cuddling close to Nina, putting his arm around her, whispering gross things in her ear that made her giggle insufferably. It was so fucking uncomfortable.

Kaz never acted that way around Inej, and they’d been together for years. Sort of. Not always officially. It really had only been officially lately, but Kaz had always told himself he wasn’t one to need to put labels on things. Inej knewhow he felt – he knew this. (Did he, though?) He definitely knew this. (No, he didn’t.) There was no need to be like Matthias fucking Helvar and canoodle her in front of everyone on game night.

Oh, God. Kaz was suddenly having a realization, right there in the middle of counting his cards.

Oh, God.

He was jealous of Matthias Helvar.

Oh, this sucked.

This really fucking sucked. Kaz thought no one in their right mind should ever be jealous of that big dumb fuck, with his protein shakes and his weirdly popular fitspo Instagram page. The guy looked like he ate nothing but wild-caught salmon and organic broccoli. He wasn’t funny, and he’d say weirdly spiritual shit at socially unacceptable times. He probably spent his weekends doing annoying, on-brand fuckery like being one with nature and brewing his own kombucha, that asshole.

And this was the guy who felt comfortable enough to kiss a girl’s ear in a total stranger’s apartment. (Well, not a total stranger, Kaz would relinquish that – Nina had been dating Matthias for three months.) Matthias Helvar was doing all that nothing with his life, and he wasn’t the least bit self-conscious.

Ugh. Kaz hated that guy. Worse! Kaz wanted to be that guy. Minus the kombucha and the religious stuff. And the gym membership. And probably the protein shakes.

Ok, fine, Kaz was only interested in the PDA. This was so fucking awful.

“What number were we playing to?” he heard himself ask. He wasn’t even paying attention to card counting. He was going to have to start again.

“Can’t count that high, Brekker?” Matthias asked, smirking, and there was always something Kaz took as halfway serious in the way he tried to joke.

“Die in a fire, Helvar,” he said, with a smile that was as good as a middle finger.

“And on that note!” Nina sung out, standing with a hand on Matthias’ shoulder. “It’s almost midnight. I have an eight a.m. class. We gotta call it a night.”

“Matthias drove us,” Inej explained to Kaz’s questioning look at the word “We.”

Inej and Nina were roommates, too, like Kaz and Jesper, but the two girls lived on campus in the dorms at Ketterdam University, where all but Matthias attended. (Fucking Matthias, who was a personal trainer and got money from wellness companies to tout their shit on his Instagram. Ugh.) Wylan, Jesper’s boyfriend, was also living in the dorms this year, after spending his freshmen year commuting from his dad’s enormous house. Wylan had been the one with the car before Kaz had finally scraped together the money for one, but his dad had cut him off over the summer. Kaz didn’t know much about that beyond what little Jesper had told him, which, in summary, was: goodbye, car; hello, dorm life.

“You should have said something – I could have picked you all up,” Kaz said, mostly to Inej, as the others were standing from the table.

Nina reached a tentative hand out to gently touch his shoulder, well-protected by the fabric of his black v-neck.

“Kaz,” she said, gingerly, “we love you, but Matthias has functioning air conditioning.”

Kaz slid his glance toward Inej, who gave a little confirming nod, pressing back her amused smile.

“My thighs don’t stick to the seats in his car,” she explained, softly, which may as well have been a knife to the gut. He loved driving her around in his car. And, to top it off, she was in a pair of really adorable denim cut offs, her legs deeply tan from the summer sun, and he hadn’t even had the nerve to try to touch her exposed knee all night. (Meanwhile, Hands-On Helvar over here had been sitting with his palm all over Nina’s plentiful thighs all night. God, he was so gross. Couldn’t Kaz be just a little bit gross?)

“Are you okay?” Inej was asking. She was stepping a little closer to him away from where everyone else was putting on shoes, preparing to leave. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her loose, purple crop-top, and her long, dark braid was pulled over her shoulder – just mercilessly cute all over. And he hadn’t touched her all night.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but he kept his hands in his jeans pockets. Inej’s dark brows knit together.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” she checked. Kaz huffed a laugh – how was he supposed to answer that? Realistically, he should lie.

“Probably not,” he admitted anyway, and gave a shrug. Inej opened her mouth to reply, but Nina called to her from the doorway of the apartment.

“Sorry! Eight a.m. class! She’s going to text you from the car anyway!” Nina was shouting.

“She’s not wrong,” Inej shrugged with a smile. And reached out to barely brush her hand against his spine, like the first attempt at a hug. But Kaz could only bunch up his shoulders, hands stuffed deeper into his pockets. Why was he like this?

There were a few more awkward goodbyes at the doorway, including Matthias’ one-more last-minute sales pitch on the recent CBD-infused green powder drink he was hawking online. (“I’ll bring you some samples next week. They say it’s excellent for chronic pain.” Kaz had flipped him off when his back was turned.)

But then, once they’d all gone and the apartment was quiet, Kaz felt like he was rolling in regret.

“You doing ok?” Jesper asked him, gathering up the empty Solo cups for the trash. Jesper was a really good roommate. They’d been randomly assigned the same dorm room at the beginning of freshmen year, and it just worked. Jesper’s high energy plus Kaz’s insomnia were meant to be. They liked all the same things: strong coffee, getting paid dirty money to write other people’s papers for them, and occasionally clearing the mind by playing Call of Duty all night. They’d moved off campus the following year (a better move for the plagiarism operation), never even really having a conversation about whether or not to room with someone else. It was not even a question, and who else would Kaz even want to room with?

“You’ve seemed off all night,” Jesper was pointing out, and if Kaz had half a brain, he knew he should have been asking Jesper for advice about PDA long before it had reached envying-Matthias-Helvar-levels. Jesper and Wylan were normal in public. When they held hands or hugged or traded kisses, it wasn’t some fucking scene.

But how was he even supposed to bring this up to Jesper?

“Helvar’s such a dillweed,” was all he could find to complain. Jesper snorted.

“He is not that bad,” he said, dumping a stack of Solo cups into the trash.

“He’s the literal worst,” Kaz objected. “I can’t believe he unironically called himself an influencer.” And at that, Jesper pretended to barf into the trashcan.

“Yeah, no, you’re right – that was dumb,” he said. “I commend you for not cutting off your own ears when he did.”

“We are not buying his stupid fucking green juice,” Kaz said, pointing at Jesper to show he meant business.

“Good!” Jesper agreed. “Nina says it gives him the shits.”

And that brought Kaz some comfort. He found he could smirk about it while he loaded up the dishwasher. He was starting it up when his phone buzzed on the counter. He leaned over to read it.

Inej: You seemed sad tonight.

Inej’s contact photo in his phone was one he’d snapped when she wasn’t looking – she was leaning her head back with her eyes closed, taking in the sunshine. It had made her brown skin glimmer and dazzle.

Kaz stared at her text for probably too long. Long enough for Jesper to peer around the corner of the kitchen doorway at him.

“I’m going to bed – everything okay?” he said, and cocked his head. “Is it another last minute job?” Those kinds of jobs – the ones where a student was giving up the night before something massive was due – paid the most, but for good reason. They were absolutely fucking miserable to pull off.

“No,” Kaz shook his head. “Just Inej.”

It was never “just Inej” – and Jesper nodded like he knew that.

“Hey, Kaz,” he said, as he began to leave for his bedroom. Kaz looked up at him sidelong as he mouthed, barely audible: “Tell her what’s wrong.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.” Kaz rolled his eyes. And heaved a heavy sigh.

And started typing.

Kaz: I guess I was a little.

Whoa, pressing send on that was unpleasant. He wandered over to his preferred recliner in the living room and flopped back in it. Shoved the footrest up to elevate his bad leg. Ugh. Just ugh to everything and everyone. He looked down at his phone again.

And Inej had been quick to respond.

Inej: You can tell me these things, you know.

Inej: I know I won’t always have the right thing to say, but I want to be there for you.

Inej. Why are you being so perfect so far away?

Why are you wasting your time with a boyfriend who struggles to touch you?

Inej: Are you writing a novel?

He’d been writing and rewriting the same sentence twenty different times. She’d probably been looking at those ominous three bobbing dots for way too long.

Ugh. God. Fine. Kaz drew in a long deep breath, staring up at the ceiling like it could intervene and come to his aid. And then fucking wrote.

Kaz: I wish things were different

Kaz: I wish I wasn’t so fucked

Kaz: I wish I knew how to be a better boyfriend – how to make you blush and laugh and make that one smile that’s like you’re telling secrets with your eyes

He pushed the recliner back as far as it would go. Maybe it would tip and dump him on his head and he’d have to go to the hospital, and that would at least delay Inej inevitably breaking up with him for being this pathetic wet blanket. The phone buzzed again, and he almost didn’t want to look.

Inej: Um, where were you all night? You literally had me doing all those things all night

Huh. That wasn’t how he remembered it.

Kaz: On the opposite side of the table from you

Kaz: Watching basically everyone else be able to touch you but me

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck. That sounded so petulant, and he’d already pressed send. That sounded so needy and disgusting. Who said that kind of shit? Not even Matthias Helvar said that kind of shit. He wanted to throw his phone across the room. No, out the window. No, out into the sea.

Now he was on the receiving end of the three bobbing dots of doom. Fuuuuck.

Kaz: Can we just forget I said that?

More dots. Then nothing.

Then dots.

Inej: I don’t know. You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous.

At that, Kaz raised his eyebrows.

Kaz: I am not jealous.

Inej: You’re a little jealous

Kaz: No, I feel insufficient.

(Oooof. That was like trying to throw an anvil. Painful.)

Inej: Oh

Kaz was watching the texts come in from beneath his arm now, holding the phone high over his head. Like watching the slasher scenes in a horror movie.

Inej: I mean

Inej: It seems like you’re just splitting hairs here

Inej: Since you must think others are sufficient in ways you are not, so you envy them

…

Kaz: Touche, Ghafa.

And he couldn’t help smiling to himself when Inej sent him a gif of a swashbuckling cartoon Robin Hood brandishing a sword. Then another text bubble appeared.

Inej: You are not insufficient to me, Kaz.

He really wanted to believe that.

Kaz: Even if I’m not hanging all over you and amassing a truly staggering number of Instagram followers with my six-pack abs?

Inej: O.M.G.

Inej: Kaz

Inej: Brekker

Oh, God, what had he done?

Inej: Are you *jealous* of Matthias?

Uggghh, he was going to be sick.

Kaz: Fuck no

Kaz: It was just a hypothetical

Kaz: It was an exaggeration

Kaz: I could do the same thing with any one of our friends

Kaz: And we all know the abs are photoshopped anyway

Inej: OMG

Kaz: What now

Inej: You called Matthias our friend

Kaz wanted to stab himself in the brain.

Inej: I’m gonna tell him

Kaz: Don’t you fucking dare

Inej: I already did

Kaz: What? How? How are you that fast?

Inej: Still in the car

Kaz: ????

There was no reason for that – the dorms were hardly a 10-minute drive. Now Kaz’s brain was assaulting him with a thousand reasons things his girlfriend could still be doing in a car (A nice car! With working air conditioning!) with a personal trainer/amateur Instagram model, and none of them were pleasant or welcome thoughts. The phone buzzed again.

Inej: I asked him to bring me back to you. :)

At that, Kaz straightened the recliner, rising to his feet as fast as his stiff leg would allow.

Kaz: You did? And he did? Why?

He was limping toward the front door.

Inej: Because he’s not terrible, Kaz. And because I guess I missed your car after all ;)

Jesper and Kaz’s apartment was the third floor of a wonky old Victorian home that had once been something grand and only recently had been split into three different abodes – which was definitely the worst decision the two of them had made as roommates. Kaz was leaning hard against the railing as he took to the steps when the front door of the building banged shut below. And then there on the landing below was Inej, wearing a sheepish smile in the yellow, buzzing fluorescence of the hall light. She was holding her phone in one hand, her tan leather purse slung across her slim body.

“I thought you looked like you could use a hug,” she said, as she pocketed her phone.

Kaz took the last two stairs carefully, coming to stand in front of her. She smelled like vanilla and coconut oil – like something he wanted to wake up to every morning.

“You came all the way back for a hug,” he wanted to clarify. His hands – he should do something with his hands. What would Matthias do with his hands?

No. What do I want to do with my hands?

So, he looped a couple fingers through her belt loops. Tugged her a little closer. And she smiled.

“Technically,” she said, “Matthias came all the way back so I could bring you some samples.” She patted her purse, which did look a little bulkier. “They were in his car the whole time.”

“Mmmm.” He pretended to look tantalized. “Hot car samples. Delicious.”

Inej was twisting her fingers in the t-shirt fabric at the crest of his hips. Tugging him a little closer, too. God, it was so good. She’d been so right. He had wanted a hug.

“I know that’s how I want my protein powder,” she teased. “Piping hot, right out of the oven.”

“Just how Ma used to make it,” Kaz added, with a good bit of feigned nostalgia. Inej blurted out a laugh, tipping forward until her forehead bumped his sternum.

At that first brush, it was like his hands knew what to do from there. They slipped around her waist while her hands slid around his. And she pressed her cheek against his chest while he held her close.

“You are not insufficient,” Inej said against him.

“I would really like to pretend that never happened,” he said with a sigh, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Too late,” she hummed, happily, and gave him a light squeeze. He smiled against her hair.

“You know I wouldn’t want you to be like Matthias, right?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t even want Matthias to be like Matthias,” Kaz grumbled.

“Hey,” and Inej pulled back to look up at him with her big, soft brown eyes. “I mean it. I just want you to be you. I don’t want all the handsy stuff. That’s what Nina likes. I just like you.”

Kaz carefully pushed back a few strands of her hair from her forehead.

“Not even a little handsy stuff?” he checked, which made Inej give her coy little smirk, his very favorite.

“Maybe a little handsy stuff,” she said.

If there were ever going to be a time to kiss her, it would be now. But when he thought it, Kaz felt his heart make an enormous leap into his throat, seizing in panic. If he touched her mouth with his, if he closed his eyes and felt her face so close to his, would he just end up floundering in The Very Sad Thing again? What if it happened while he was kissing her? Would every kiss after that be tainted? Could he risk it – could he ever?

So, he didn’t move to meet her lips. He let his hands fall to the small of her back, though, and kept her close for another moment. Like a sample of physical affection, and she seemed okay with that. He would will himself to believe it was not insufficient.

“Drive me home?” she asked after a moment, with a kind of sweet, eager anticipation that made Kaz believe in magic. He nodded, of course.

“I’ll go up and get my keys,” he said. “And you throw away those samples.”

Inej laughed, following him up.

“Deal,” she said.

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

Tagging: @annejulianneh111, @loveyatopluto, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @whosanxiety, @raging-bisexual-alert,

[justsomebucky]

The Friendly Wager (Part 4)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,578

Warnings: language, fluff, sarcasm, unrealized romantic tension, drinking

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?”

I’m really behind on posting my parts for this challenge, I’ve got a long weekend, I wanna move this along because I’m dumb and entered another challenge, and I don’t wanna be a PIA for Kait, so I’m posting more frequently. Tags are closed.

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

“So, are you nervous?” Wanda asked, adjusting her sunglasses.

The two of you had decided to wander across the street to a food truck, and were now eating lunch on the bench outside of Stark Tower. The sun was bright again today, but you forced yourself to work and catch up on everything you missed yesterday while you were out having fun with Bucky.

“Me? Nervous about something really trivial? Never,” you deadpanned, scanning the busy street for nothing in particular. You didn’t have your sunglasses with you, so you couldn’t hide your expression from your coworker.

“You know, squinting causes wrinkles.”

“And worrying causes inflammation, but here we are.”

Wanda laughed, shaking her head once. “I can’t believe the two of you did this, anyways. Let me see this Peter guy again?”

You dug into your bag and found the picture that Bucky had texted you on your phone, then handed it over. “He’s very handsome.”

“He is,” she agreed, eyeing the stranger’s face. “But what’s he like?”

“I imagine that’s why I’m going on the date, Wanda, to find out what Peter is really like.” You stared straight ahead as something red caught your eye.

Oh, of course, the world’s most perfect woman would choose to make an appearance today.

“Is that Natasha?”

Wanda lowered her sunglasses just enough to have a look. “Yep. And she’s spotted us now. Aaaannd she’s coming this way.”

“Great,” you muttered, sinking a little lower on the bench, but keeping your eyes averted.

You had been giving yourself little pep talks all day about your own date, so hyper-focused on Peter and trying to win, that you’d sort of forgotten that Natasha was the prize for Bucky.

“Hey guys, I see you’ve found a way to avoid the cafeteria for lunch now?” Natasha smiled brightly at you both.

See this was another thing…you couldn’t hate Natasha if you tried. She was so nice, so smart, so helpful, so funny…so utterly, annoyingly perfect for Bucky…ugh.

“We’re trying out some of the new food trucks,” you explained, gesturing to your delicious Thai food.

“Any good?” Her eyes flickered to your tray, and a new feeling crept into your brain.

Why was she always encroaching on what was yours? First Bucky, now your lunch?

Could she let you live?

You blinked up at her, knowing full well that your attitude needed to be fixed, that she wasn’t purposefully trying to be an obnoxious thief. 

Anyways, Bucky wasn’t yours, and the food trucks were for everyone.

“Very.”

“How about that?” Nat nodded to Wanda’s food.

“This was pretty good,” Wanda told her, holding up the plate of what was left of her falafel. “I think you’d like it.”

What was she going to talk about next, the nice weather you’ve been having? Small talk made your skin crawl. Everything was so forced, so awkward, and hardly ever sincere. It was one of the reasons why you hated first dates. Being polite and kind to others was one thing, but this?

Natasha nodded, then looked back at you curiously. “Is your mother okay?”

Wanda didn’t know this part, so she looked at you in utter confusion.

You knew she’d see right through this, because you were a terrible liar. “Uh…she’s fine. Just had a little scare.”

“Glad to hear that she’s doing well. I know that about half the floor was very concerned, since you almost never leave early. When I heard about what happened, I felt so bad.”

“Well,” you shrugged sheepishly. “When it’s your family, ya gotta…ya know…” Your voice trailed off as you realized you had no clue what to say.

Natasha didn’t seem to mind. Of course she didn’t.

“Right. Well, I actually came over here to ask about another rumor? My friend Peter says he’s taking you out tonight?”

You cringed, immediately feeling that same dread you had yesterday. What the hell? Does she know everybody? “That’s right. Just a first date. Just seeing how things go.”

“I thought you and Bucky were together for the longest time, you know, but Peter said that Bucky’s the one that fixed you two up. And then I heard from Rosie that she’s going out with Bucky tonight, and that you set it up?”

“Yep.” You didn’t know what else to say about that. Talking about Bucky with his perfect connection made you uncomfortable. “We’re best friends, just looking out for each other.”

“Well in that case, Bucky’s best friend, make sure you add me to the list, okay?” Natasha winked at you. “I’m single again, and I’ve had my eye on him for a while.”

“Will do,” you said, standing up with your tray of half-eaten Thai food. “I have to get back to work, I’ll see you girls later.”

You made your way to the nearest garbage can to throw the tray away, then with one last smile at the two women, you headed back inside.  

“Text me about tonight,” Wanda called out as you made your quick getaway.

Once you were back in your neighborhood after work, you decided to stop at a shop that you pass on your way from the subway station every day.

It wasn’t one of those fancy stores with dresses that are more expensive than your rent, and frankly, you wouldn’t have bothered to look in one of those anyways. Not until some of your student loan debt was paid down, at least.

No, this was sort of like a vintage shop, and the lady that owned it would travel someplace new once a month to restock by personally selecting items she’s found at other shops or yard sales or the like. You wandered in there a lot, sometimes buying something small for yourself, and had gotten to know her pretty well.

Everything was cheaper there than it would be in Manhattan, but it was still expensive, because let’s face it, it’s Brooklyn. Hipsters made everything expensive.

This little venture was to try to find something that was new to you to wear tonight, as long as it was in your budget.

“Can I help you, Y/N?”

You whirled around and came face-to-face with Christine, the shop’s owner. “Hi, Chris. Actually I think you might be able to help me. I have a first date tonight with a guy I’ve never met, and I don’t know his personality, so I’m not sure if he’s conservative or not.”

Christine nodded, her eyes flitting around the room. “First date dresses are usually better if you go with a normal black dress, in my opinion. I think I have a couple options that would work for you, let me go dig them out. You wait right here, okay?” She smiled at you before heading toward the back of the room.

With a small sigh, you turned to the jewelry display. A silver necklace with a tiny red star caught your eye, and you moved over to get a closer look, letting your fingers brush the chain gently.

“Ah, that’s new as of yesterday,” Christine told you, coming back into the room. “I found it at an estate sale in Montauk. Isn’t it pretty?”

“It is,” you agreed, flinching at the price tag. “But not for eighty-five dollars.”

“Tell you what? I’ll sell it to you for five bucks if you end up buying a dress here today, just because I know you and like you.”

You looked up at her in surprise. “Really? Well, hell, now I’m definitely getting one. Let’s see what you got there.”

Christine motioned for you to follow her, and the two of you went to the dressing room in the back. She laid out three black dresses on the sofa, then gestured to the mirrors. “Now, try each one on, and whichever makes you feel the best is the one you should go with. Don’t even worry about what your date will think. If you’re feeling good, the date will be much better, okay? I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks, Chris,” you called to her retreating back.

The first dress had long sleeves, and a puffy skirt that went mid-thigh. It would have looked perfect on someone built like Florence Welch, but not you.

Dress number two was a little prettier, with a halter top and a belt, but it was a little too old-fashioned looking for tonight.

The third option was by far your favorite. This had an A-line skirt and three-quarter length sleeves, with a V-neck that wasn’t too scandalous, but let everyone know you meant business. Plus, it wouldn’t look overdone with a certain star necklace.

You couldn’t help but smile at your reflection.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all, with the right outfit and the right attitude.

Forget what you thought earlier.

This was bad, this was so so bad.

You were freaking out. Your face and palms were sweaty, and your hair was trying to do its own thing, and your makeup was just not the way you wanted it to be (because of all the sweat). Nothing was going right so far.

A loud knock sounded on your door. You knew it was way too early for Peter to be at your place, so you rushed out into the hall. “Who is it?”

“It’s Bucky!” The muffled voice was unmistakably his, but you didn’t have time to wonder why he would want to come over when the two of you were in wager mode.

“Door’s open!” You scurried back into your bathroom to try to make sense of your hair.

The only thing that was working out for you was your outfit.

You found yourself staring at your reflection for the second time that day, but this time you weren’t smiling. Why the hell were you putting so much effort into a date with a probable douchebag, one you didn’t even pick for yourself?

Why should you worry so much?

Who cares?

Slowly, you fixed your hair and makeup, and then wandered into the kitchen to put your head in the freezer for a second. Surely, that would cool you down.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m sweaty and nervous, so I’m trying to cool down.” Your tone let him know that it should be fairly obvious to him, since your freakin’ head was in the freezer.

“No, I meant, why are you sweaty and nervous?”

You moved away from the freezer and closed the door before turning to Bucky. The second you laid eyes on him, you froze.

Bucky must have had the same idea as you, to try a little harder with this date for the wager, because he looked so damn handsome. He was also wearing black on black, right down to his dress shirt and tie, and his hair was slicked back but somehow still fluffy.

Your stomach fluttered a little at the sight.

He, too, looked a little stunned at your appearance. You tended to wear comfy clothes around him. “I’ve never seen you dress up so much for a date before, Y/N.”

“Well, I’ve never seen you dress up ever for a date before, Bucky. You look great! If I knew you were so competitive, I might have made the terms a little crazier!”

Bucky moved to stand in front of you, a small smile playing on his lips. “You look really pretty. Actually, that word seems a little inadequate to describe you in this moment.” He reached for the star necklace that was around your neck, inspecting it carefully. “Is this new? I like it.”

“Yeah, Christine down at the shop on Bayard sold it to me for five bucks. She��s unreal.”

He nodded, and his fingers carefully set the necklace back down, brushing your skin so gently in the process that it sent shivers down your spine.

You figured you were finally, thankfully, at room temperature instead of a sweaty mess.

Bucky always did have a calming presence, after all.

“So,” he said with a small grin. “Any last tips for trying to woo your pal Rosie?”

“I got nothin’,” you replied, turning away to your fridge. “She’s a coworker, not really a pal. Wanna have a drink with me for good luck?” You reached in for your bottle of cheap moscato, sighing in relief that you’d remembered to stock up.

“No, I’m good. I’m more on my game when I’m sober.”

“Funny, I’ve got much more of a personality when drinking,” you quipped, using the corkscrew to open the bottle. You poured some of the light liquid into a wine glass.

Bucky frowned as he watched you down half a glass in seconds. “Don’t drink too much tonight.”

“Yes, Dad.” You rolled your eyes at him. “I’m just trying to stay loose. I don’t want to have that anxious feeling where I leave the table in five minutes because of something douchey. Not when your cooking is on the line.”

“Not too loose, though,” he muttered, pushing the wine bottle out of your reach.

You let that one slide. “So are we supposed to text updates to each other during the date?”

Bucky shrugged. “It might make it more entertaining.”

“Right, well I’ll be sure to-“

Another knock at your front door made you stop mid-sentence and stare at Bucky with wide eyes. “That’ll be Peter, then.”

“I’ll get it,” he offered, backing away from you slowly. “I have to get going, anyways.”

“Okay.” You stared at him as he opened the door and greeted the man outside, before you hesitantly walked over.

When your eyes met Peter’s, you were pleasantly surprised to find he didn’t seem douchey at all.

Bucky introduced you both, and you gave him a look that clearly said what the hell?

He merely shrugged at you, clearly catching your drift, his blue eyes unreadable. “Go have a nice time, you guys. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“Have fun on your date, Bucky.” You offered him one last smile, before closing your door, accepting Peter’s arm, and heading down the staircase.

“So, Y/N, I thought we could go to this little place downtown tonight. I know the owner, and…”

Peter’s voice trailed off as your thoughts strayed back to your best friend.

The deal had been for him to set you up with a douchebag to see if you could make it an entire date without freaking out and leaving. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder: did Bucky just throw the competition again?

What did this mean?

Maybe he just really wanted to you meet and date a nice guy. He was always looking out for you like that, after all, and he even said he hated that you kept going after the same kind of guy over and over. You always brushed off his concerns, telling him that you’d listen to his romance advice when he stopped sleeping around so much.

Your heart sank a little; there was no way you could keep Nat’s number from him now. He deserved to be happy, too, and what kind of friend withholds that information, knowing that Nat was perfect for him?

Peter stopped and looked at you expectantly, and you realized that you hadn’t heard anything else he said. “That all sounds great, Peter. I’m looking forward to it,” you said quickly, trying to make your tone of voice sound convincing.

It worked, because he smiled happily. “Great. We’re definitely gonna have fun tonight, Y/N!”

As you were getting into a taxi with Peter, you turned and spotted Bucky heading out to hail his own cab.

He waved at you, his expression blank. As the taxi pulled away, you lifted your hand to wave back, with a small smile on your face and a nervous feeling in your stomach.

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

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