Just a girl in love with a lot of fictional men. (MCU: Bucky; Star Wars: Poe & Cassian) 27 she/her. Requests OPEN but I will need time to get in the right headspace! I do NOT write pregnancy, underage, dub/non con, incest.
summary: it was unrequited love at first sight when you met bucky barnes. having a crush on himâyour roommateâis hard enough, but hearing him fuck through your shared wall? that almost kills you.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, modern au, lots of plot, fluff, angst, sloooow burn, anxious!reader, kinda insecure!reader, reader works at a bar, capâs quartet roommates (romanogers !!), swearing, drinking, weed mentions, idiots in love they just don't know it, oblivious!reader (i love her your honour), yearningggg, jealousy, reader crashes tf outttt, miscommunication, one (1) argument, love confessions, pet names (sweetheart, angel, doll, pretty girl), detailed explicit smut, slight dom!bucky, dirty talk, teasingggg, grinding, munch!bucky, oral (f!receiving), fingering, dacryphilia, pussy pronouns, small inspection kink, praise kink, unprotected pnv (donât do this, friends), missionary, mating press, multiple orgasms, brief sub space, mention of f & m masturbation, happy ending, no use of y/n, reader wears a dress, no physical descriptions of reader, reader's pov, kinda dramatic, briefly proofread, this is not your typical roommate!bucky fic !!
word count: 20.6k (apparently i have this condition where i can't write a short fic)
authors note: i am actually the leader of the 'having debilitating crushes on your roommate' club so... thank you to my gorgeous, stunning, one of a kind beta reader @phoenix-in-writing 𫶠yes, i did use some off campus characters as reader's coworkers - there's no subplot with them, they just suited the vibe đ likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated (and feed my validation kink)
you are responsible for your own media consumption. donât like? donât read
song inspo: crushcrushcrush - paramore & boyfriend - best coast
divider credits: line dividers by @/omi-resources, heart divider by @/strangergraphics
masterlist
Nothing compares to a quiet evening alone
Just the one, two, I was just counting on
That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again
Let's be more than, more than this
You knew from the moment you stepped into the Brooklyn brownstone that you were royally fucked.Â
Ruffled, sleep mussed, dark brown hair. Slightly squinted, soft, deep blue eyes. A white sleep shirt that loosely clung to the hard ridges of a muscled body. Grey sweatpants that hung dangerously low and showed the shape of him if you stared longer than was appropriate.
And, god, the low, husky voice that you could feel rumble through your body from metres away. The slender, strong, veiny hands that didn't hesitate to grab the box slipping from yours. The pink lips that stretched into an easy smile, pearly white teeth dazzling and rendering you speechless for a minute.
The heat that crawled up your back was instantâyour body reacting to your new roommate before you even knew his name.
Attractive men existed, you knew that. The bar you worked at had handfuls of them come in every night, some that even flashed you a flirty smile with interest in their eyes. But you didn't live with any of themâyou didn't see them when they were half-awake, their rough edges softened by sleep and early morning light.
He introduced himself as James Barnes, but he requested you call him Buckyâ"only my ma calls me James"â, and mentioned he worked as a physiotherapist at the VA.
He was quick to put the box in your new room, running out to the curb to grab the rest of your belongings from the rental van. You stood near the entrance, frozen in shock. Words failed you, your brain failed youâthe only thing you could think about was the shift of his back muscles beneath his shirt as he hauled boxes through the door. It was an intoxicating sight, one you didn't even know would affect you.
You quickly came to learn that the problem was Buckyâeverything he did had an intoxicating effect on you.
The smile he flashed you as he handed you your morning coffee, the wink he tossed your way when he took your side in your weekly movie night debate with Sam, his laughs that you could hear through your shared wall when he gamed with his friends.
His laughter was one of the most intoxicating things about him. There were the low, deep huffs when he was tired. The louder, harsher ones when he was caught by surprise. Then your favouriteâthe long, slightly breathless giggles that crinkled the corner of his eyes and had his nose scrunching. Every time you were blessed with them, you could only think about how cute he looked. It made him even more attractive, and you even more infatuated.
When your friend and roommate said that she was going to move into her partner's apartment once your lease was up, the first thing you felt was dread. You didn't know anyone who was looking for a room, nor did you know anyone who was looking for a roommate. The last thing you wanted was to move in with a strangerâhaving already lived with complete strangers in the past you could not say it was a pleasant experience. Your friendâan absolute angelâwas quick to tell you that a coworker at her law firm was looking for a roommate, and she assured you that Nat would not break into your room and steal your jewellery like your first ever roommate did.
While you weren't exactly ecstatic to move in with four best friends, Nat had quickly won you over when you met for coffee. You sat down feeling like a complete contrast to herâsporting an old sweatshirt over your sweaty work uniform while she was in a creaseless emerald pantsuit. But she made you feel completely at easeâoffering up embarrassing college stories about her and the guys, asking you about yourself and actually seeming interested, talking about the brownstone with so much adoration in her voice you couldn't help but love it already.
You felt awkward living with the close knit friends at firstâshuffling on your feet as the four of them lounged on the couches, pulling at the loose threads on your sweater as you sat and listened to them bicker.
Fortunately, it didn't take long for you to find your place in the group. Sam played a big partâhis teasing and infectious personality making you feel at home within a week. He didn't let you retreat into yourself; he pestered you with a mix of random and personal questionsâ"what extinct animal do you most identify with" followed by "what was your first heartbreak"â, teased you about your cooking (to which he always stole a mouthful), and was just warmâand yeah, slightly chaotic.
Nat and Steve quickly became one of your favourite couples. They weren't heavy on the PDAâunless red wine was involvedâand they balanced each other out perfectly. She was loud, he was quiet. After a few too many on a night out she was ready to start a fight with any asshole who dared to look her way, and he was there to gently steer her away by the shoulders and remind her it wasn't worth ruining her fresh manicure.
Despite having some opposite traits, they were both incredibly kind and comforting peopleâtruly living up to their titles of being the household's mom and dad. Nat was there for you after your gruelling shifts, holding either a glass of wine or mug of hot chocolate. Steve was the one knocking on your door with a bowl of soup and bag of medicine when you had the flu.
And then there was Bucky. He was just as kind, a good middle between Sam's chaotic nature and Steve's quiet one, and he made you feel seen.
Uncomfortably so.
He was the one next to you during social gatherings, gently nudging his shoulder against yours in a silent check in. He was the one suggesting fresh air when your breathing picked up incrementally. He was the one staring at you like he was captivated, sitting forward as you rambled about your niche interests.
Bucky noticed you, paid attention to you, like no one else had in your life.
He remembered what mugs you liked, making sure to use one of them when he made you both coffeeâhe remembered that too, the way you liked your coffee made. He bought you more body wash when you complained about running out but not having time to go to the shop before your shift. He sat next to you as you rewatched your comfort shows for the fifth time, asking questions like he was genuinely interestedâa welcome contrast to Sam's mocking comments.
Each day he was in your life, looking at you like you were worth knowing, was just another day you fell deeper.
And then there were the moments. There weren't many, only a handful, but they were burned into your memory.
The first was when you came back after brunch with old friends, wearing a white sundress that made you feel pretty.
Bucky was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter while eating an apple. You smiled in greeting as you walked in, grabbing a glass to fill with water. You sneaked a side glance at him like you always do when he's in the same room as you, catching his eyes already on youâdrifting from the bottom of your dress up to your chest. You watched his adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed.
"That's a nice dress, sweetheart."
Goosebumps erupted across your skin at his low drawl, a warmth spreading in your core from the pet name. He had never called you that before.
He pushed off the counter and walked out of the kitchen, acting like those five words hadn't changed your whole dayâyour whole life.
Where once you thought the dress was pretty, you now saw it as a lifelineâtethering you to the hope that Bucky might just like you back. You found reasons to wear it more often; making an effort to hang out in the common spaces when you came back home wearing it, delaying changing into your comfortable clothes because Bucky wasn't home yet and you wanted him to see it. To see you.
The second moment was when the five of you were at a birthday party for one of Sam's army buddies.
Nat and Steve had left after only being there for half an hourâNat giggling to you on their way out, telling you and the boys to hold off on coming back home for a couple of hours. Sam was in the lounge with a large crowd hanging on to his every word as he retold his war hero storiesâ to which Bucky was quick to throw you a look, raising his hands to mimic being strangled, making you laugh and receive dagger eyes from Sam.
The two of you made your way outside towards the game of beer pong being set up. Bucky was quick to accept their offer to join in and that's how you found yourself standing opposite him, a sticky fold out table between youâthe ping pong ball in your hand shaking, your breath catching as his lips tilted into a smirk. His eyes were as dark as the sky, the moonlight making them twinkle with their own constellationsâstaring straight into yours with a silent challenge, daring you to miss your next shot. His tongue sweeping over his bottom lip stole your attention and your hand faltered, the ball almost dropping out of your grip.
"You got this, sweetheart."
Time slowed down as the ball left your hand, your eyes watching it sail through the crisp night air while Bucky watched you. It dropped to the table with a pathetic, dull tockâinches away from any of the red solo cups. Bucky's smile grew even more lopsided, his eyes gleaming with mirth.
"Better luck next time, angel."
What the fuck was with him calling you these stupid, heart stuttering, knee trembling pet names?
Your beer pong partner was quick to brush off your missed shot, chuckling at your flustered expression and offering to help you with your stance. The game continued with you almost missing every shot, your partner guiding you with hands on your hips in the hopes of you sinking a cup. His arms wrapped around your waist when you made your first successful shot, but it wasn't his attention that had your mind cloudingâyou couldn't even say it was the alcohol flowing through your veins. No, it was the look of pride on Bucky's face that had you freezing, everything else around you fading away until all that remained was shining midnight eyes and curved pink lips.
God, how you wished the arms around your waist were his.
The guys you were playing with retreated inside after the game ended, with your partner telling you to find him before you left, throwing you an easy smile over his shoulder.
Bucky and you lingered in the fresh air, slowly walking towards the backdoor, your bare arm brushing against his denim jacket with every step. Music and laughter trickled out of the open windows, the noise softening in the cool breeze before it reached you. Despite the calm, you felt your body vibrate with a persistent buzzâBucky's close proximity and the beer you downed making it hard to find the line between your feelings and reality.
"You do realise he was flirting with you, right?" Bucky's voice broke the silence. You turned your head to find him already gazing at youâsoft eyes a contradiction to his clenched jaw.
You scoffed, looking at him like he'd grown another head. "What, no he wasn't."
"Uh yeah, he definitely was. The 'let me fix your stance' play is the oldest trick in the book and has a pretty decent success rate." He chuckled softly, shaking his head with an uptick of a smile. "Not with you, though." He paused, giving you a teasing wink. "I'll keep that in mind."
The wink had your body flushing with heat, the words I'll keep that in mind burrowing into your lovesick heart and amplifying the buzzing. Your words stumbled on their way out."Th-there's no way he was flirting with meâhe's way out of my league."
Bucky stopped in his tracks, turning to face you fully with a deep crease between his eyebrows. The gentle breeze swept a strand of hair over his face, your hand twitching with the need to brush it behind his ear.
His voice dropped low, the teasing tone subduing. "What are you on about? Tell me you know that's not true, doll."
You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling exposed and vulnerable under the intimacy of the dark sky. You shivered, not just from the cooling wind caressing your bare arms. You gave a small shrug in response.
Bucky started to take his jacket off, exposing the black t-shirt that hugged his biceps a little too tight for your sanity. "While I don't believe in the whole people being in different leagues thing, I can confidently say you are so far out of his league you're on a whole nother planet."
"âŠAre you saying I'm an alien?"
"If the shoe fits," Bucky responded, a fraction of his seriousness easing into a cheeky smile. He draped his jacket over your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the sides of your neck as he fixed the collarâanother shiver running down your spine from his faint touch. The warm, rich scent of his cologne and him wrapped around you and dragged you underâthe scent that you now associated with home.
Bucky's eyes met yours, the starlit blue swirling with something you couldn't quite decipher. His hands moved from the collar of his jacket to the hem, fingers toying with the rough fabric. "No, what I'm trying to say is that you'reâ" he licked his lips, trying to find the right words. "Any guy would be lucky to have you, but I don't think anyone is deserving of you."
Your brain short-circuited, the haze of rose coloured glasses starting to fall over your eyesâthreatening to distort the Bucky in front of you with the one you stayed up late daydreaming about.
You found a smaller version of your voice. "IâŠI'm not that special, Buck."
He tugged on the hem, the force pulling the jacket tighter around your shoulders. "No? Then why are you the only personâother than Steveâthat I let call me Buck?"
You stared at him, unblinking. You didn't realise other people didn't call him Buckâthe nickname just slipped from your lips so naturally after the first month of living with him.
"One of these days, I'm going to make you see yourself how I do."
He leaned in, brushing the faintest of kisses on your foreheadâthe mere ghost of his lips burning your skin, eliciting a cascade of sparks to run down your body. He stepped back, stuffing his hands in his pockets and tilted his head towards the door.
"Let's get back inside before Sam tells everyone about the time he had to save you from a raccoon."
"He had very sinister looking eyes!" You cried indignantly. "And I was really stonedâremind me to never have one of Nat's brownies ever again."
The third moment happened during your bar's weekly quiz night.
The four of them were in their usual booth for the nightâthe one Sam demanded you reserve for them ever since you mentioned your work had a quiz night on Tuesdays. Nat and Steve were sitting on one side, each nursing a pint of craft beer, with Sam and Bucky sitting opposite themâthe latter half hanging out of the booth with his hand raised in a beckoning gesture, shooting you one of those irresistible half smiles that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter.
You rolled your eyes at him, knowing exactly what he wantedâbut you couldn't stay away from that smile, even if it was starting to get you in trouble at work.
You walked over to them, pocketing your pen and notepad before stopping next to Bucky, your eyebrows raised and arms folded.
"What do you want now?"
"Can I please place an order for the answer to question five?" Bucky held the quiz sheet up to you, pointing at the blank space next to number five like it was a menu. "Oh, and question eight." His smile evolved into a endearing grin, your heart aching traitorously at the sight.
"No."
The smile dropped a fraction, not expecting you to say no to his charm. "C'mon, you're the one here who knows niche pop culture the bestâeven Sam is stumped. I know you know the answers."
You nodded, looking at the sheet in his hand before his puppy dog eyes made you crumble. "You're right, I do. I'm not giving them to you, though."
"I thought I was your favourite." His voice dropped like he was genuinely upset, but his twitching cheeks gave away the smile he was suppressing. Sam scoffed next to him, Nat and Steve exchanged a knowing look. You ignored them.
Bucky put the sheet on the table, patting it softly like he was about to make a deal. "How 'bout thisâI'll make you dinner for a week." He carefully watched your face, trying to find a crack in your resistance. "Two weeks."
You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides. "Bucky, the prize is only a fifty dollar bar tab."
Bucky shook his head. "It's not about the prize, it's about the glory of winning four weeks in a row." He squinted his eyes, tilting his head in the way you knew meant he was thinkingâprobably something stupid, too. "Waitâis there another prize for that?"
You scoffed, tempted to hit him with your notepad. "Yeah, you get put on the no entry list."
Nat and Steve snickered at Bucky's clearly offended face, and you bit your lip to hold back your smileâhe looked too cute, it was tugging at your heart strings.
"Besides," you continued, "you only won them because you cheated."
He raised his hands in mock defence. "Hey, not my fault the pretty waitress was more than willing."
Sam choked on his beer, spluttering a mouthful onto the table. Your eyebrows skyrocketed, heat rushing to your cheeks and ears at his choice of words.
Bucky's cheeks lit up red and he ran a hand through his hair. "Noâwait, I didn'tâthat wasn't what I meant." He nervously chuckled. "What I meant was that you're more than willing to helpâhelp usâŠ" He trailed off, turning and shooting Steve a look.
Some of the tension left your shoulders, along with some of the hope you always carried that Bucky liked you more than a friend. You cleared your throat, your heart rate struggling to slow down after 'pretty waitress'.
"Maybe I've grown a conscience." You looked slightly to your left, your eyes flicking to your manager standing at the end of the bar, narrowing her eyes at you.
Bucky chuckled softly, his confidence back even with his cheeks still glowing. He crossed his arms on the table, leaning towards you. "Are we gettin' you in trouble, sweetheart?"
"There's no we in this, Barnes. It's all you." Nat interjected, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at him. He gave her a dismissive wave, his eyes still looking at you expectantly.
"She said if you win one more time then she's going to put me on the bar for quiz nightsâsomething about testing a theoryâŠ" You admitted quietly. You watched his blue eyes soften, his previous amusement dissipating.
"Well, we can't have that happening." He said, serious. "I would stop coming to quiz night."
"Yeah, right." Sam muttered into his beer.
"You'd be on the no entry list anyways, Buck." You said to Bucky, your tone lilting jokingly.
He tilted his head, the right side of his mouth twitching, his eyes looking like a sky full of secrets.
"You wouldn't do that to me, doll. You like me too much."
Your stomach dropped at his low voice, his words piercing right into the chamber of your heart he had unknowingly etched his name on. A breath got stuck in your throat, your usual witty banter getting lost in the sea of thoughts that only screamed his name.
Like an angel pulling you from a seizing riptide, your managers voice called out your nameâsaving you from saying something stupid, something that exposed how you had gone past the boundary of like six months ago, stepping into a dangerous territory that could tear you apart.
"Duty calls," you laughed out breathlessly, pointing a thumb over your shoulder. You turned on your heels and walked away like you were on fire.
Sam's low mutter made its way to you through the hum of soft pop music and chatter. "Get a room already, for fuck's sake."
Your shoe scuffed on the hardwood floor, your feet almost tripping over each other. You caught your balanceânarrowly avoiding falling and making a fool of yourself in front of the guy you're hopelessly in love with.
You reached your manager waiting at the end of the bar, overcome with the desire to kiss her in gratitude.
"I need you to cover the bar while Dean has a smoke. He'll be ten minutes, tops."
You nodded your okay, used to covering the bar for your coworkers breaks. "Unless a pretty girl walks past, then he'll be at least thirty."
Your manager hummed in agreement. "Remind me to dock his pay for pulling that shit on Saturday. Boy gets enough tips from his flirting to make up for it."
You exchanged a small laugh, walking around her to go behind the bar. She touched your forearm as you passed, stopping you with a gentle touch.
"Word of advice?" She started, voice a little quieter. "Don't screw the crew."
You stared at her with furrowed brows, confused. "What? I would never sleep with Dean, that's justâew, who knows how many untreated diseases he has." You visibly shuddered your disgust at the idea of hooking up with your coworker who was always chasing tail.
She nodded her head in the direction you came from. "They're your roommates, right?" You nodded slowly. "Hon, you look at him like you can't decide whether you want to run in the opposite direction or get on your knees."
Heat rose beneath your skin, your body freezing in mortification. You gaped at her, your mouth opening and closing until you pushed out a forced laugh.
"Whatâyou'reâthat's ridiculous. You should get your eyes checked because that's, like," you laughed nervously, panic starting to burn through your rib cage, "he's likeâŠa brother to me?" You phrased it like a question, your voice rising uncharacteristically high at the end.
She gave you a deadpan look, not buying a lick of your bullshit. Your shoulders dropped in defeat, your teeth starting to tear at your inner cheek.
"Is itâŠam I really that obvious?"
She sighed, her hand on your arm giving a reassuring squeeze. "I've worked with you long enough to know when someone is making you uncomfortable, when you're seconds away from exploding at a condescending customer, or when you want to jump over the bar and climb a guy like a tree." She paused for a second, pursuing her lips in thought. "Funnily enough, they all looked like him."
She let go of your arm, nodding towards the bar. "Now, stop thinking about fucking your roommate and get to work. I'm pretty sure table seven just ordered six espresso martini's." She gave your ass a friendly swat, pushing you behind the bar and making you throw your head back with a startled laugh.
You grabbed the docket from the POS printer, seeing an order for five espresso martini's and one spicy mango margarita. You walked down to the cocktail section, hands moving on autopilot as you prepared the margarita first.
Your eyes flicked up out of habit, your attention drawing towards the booth your roommates had practically scratched their names intoâfinding a pair of piercing blue eyes already gazing at you. The tequila bottle in your hand shook.
Don't screw the crew.
The last moment occurred during a typical movie night, where yours and Sam's raised voices warranted a domestic disturbance call from your neighbours.
"Oh my god, we are not watching Top Gun for the third time this month!" You exclaimed exasperatedly, throwing your head back against the couch with a groan.
Sam scoffed from his spot sprawled on his stupidly large beanbagâthe one you're fairly certain is a dog bed for a Great Dane. "Oh, like your suggestions are any better? You made us sit through a fucking Twilight marathon a couple weeks ago! That's precious time I'll never get back."
You glared at him. "That's bullshit, WilsonâI didn't make you do anything. You chose to sit in that exact same spot and watch all five movies." A mocking smile twitched your lips. "And, if I remember correctly, you were the one asking me to pause the movie while you went to get more snacks."
Sam shook his head adamantly. "No, what's bullshit is your taste in moviesâI only sat through it so you wouldn't feel bad!"
Nat and Steve were cuddled up on the couch perpendicular to you, their eyes darting back and forth between you and Sam like they were watching a tennis match. Bucky was sitting on the other end of the couch you were on, legs spread wide with a soda in one handâhis eyes shooting daggers at Sam.
You let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, really? So you crying when you thought Carlisle was dead was just you not wanting me to feel bad?"
"Yes!" Sam yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. Then he paused, processing what you just said. "Wait, noâthere was no crying! I just acted sad for your benefit."
You opened your mouth to refute his statement when a deep, husky voice rumbled out from next to you.
"Sam," Bucky started, tone low and final, "stop lying, I saw you wiping your eyes." He continued glaring at Sam, his shoulders more tense than they were a minute ago. "Apologise to her so we can move on."
Sam looked at him like he had lost his mind. "Apologise? What the fuck do I have to apologise for?"
Bucky nodded towards you, darkened blue eyes still narrowed at Sam menacingly. "You said her taste in movies was bullshit. Apologise."
You were suddenly speechlessânot sure how your usual movie night bickering with Sam led to Bucky being soâŠcommanding. Protective.
You looked over to the other couch, catching Nat's eyeâher mouth overtaken by a knowing smile. Your eyes darted to Steve next to her, his cheeks tinted pink and eyes squinted as he looked at his best friendâa sly smile partially hidden by the can he brought to his lips.
Sam shook his head with a disbelieving laugh, grabbing the TV remote off the coffee table.
Bucky reached out a long leg, giving Sam's beanbag a firm kick. "Now."
"Jesus," Sam dragged out, "chill out, man." He turned to you with a sigh, brown eyes glinting as he gave you his best puppy dog expression. "I am truly sorry for calling your movie taste bullshit. I will gladly sit through ten Twilight marathons if that's what you want."
He turned to Bucky with a smug grin. "There, I apologised to your girl. You happy now?"
A breath hitched in your throat, your brain freezing and going offline.
Your girl.
Said so easily, so naturally. Like it was a fact and not a mocking taunt.
Goosebumps prickled across your skin, a pleased shiver running through you at the thought of being Bucky's girl.
Bucky glared at Sam, the apples of his cheeks dusting pink. "Very." He said before leaning forward and snatching the remote out of Sam's hand. He turned to you, cheeks still flushed but eyes considerably softer. "What do you want to watch, doll?"
"âŠShrek 2."
Groans erupted from three of your roommates, the fourth keeping his eyes on you while he shook his head with a fond laughâthe one that showed his pearlescent teeth and crinkled his eyes. The one that was your damnation, sentencing you to a life of yearning and false hope.
"It's the soundtrack, right?"
You nodded eagerly, a bright smile making your cheeks ache. "I knew you would get me, Buck."
You faintly heard a fake gagging sound come from the nuisance being swallowed by a beanbag, but you couldn't care less. Not when Bucky was looking at you like you were an astronomical phenomenon.
Condensation beaded glasses stained the wooden tabletop, chewed paper straws slowly disintegrating in melted ice. A half eaten bowl of fries grew stale in the middle of the tableâyour manager's attempt to get some food in her staff while they abused the (prepaid) leftover function alcohol, yourself included. The disco ball was still spinning, sending a thousand shards of light dancing throughout the empty bar, while an ABBA track murmured softly beneath laughter and gossip.
"I'm telling you," Dean said, spreading his arms over the back of the booth, "the ladies can't get enough of me."
The booth packed full of your coworkers vibrated with long groans, someone to your left loudly booing and your manager threatening to throw her gin and tonic in his face. You shoved his arm off the seat behind you, earning yourself a pinch to your cheek as his arm retreated.
"I'm serious!" Dean continued, pulling his phone out of his jean's pocket. "One of them even left a review about me last weekâhold up, I'll get it." He squinted against the glowing light from his screen, bringing up the bar's google page to show everyone.
"Here it isâlast Saturday: bartender was cute, would drink here again. Five stars." He leaned back in the booth with a smug smile, barely reacting when your manager ripped his phone out of his hand.
"Did you see who left the review, dingus?" She asked him, her mocking smirk overpowering his. "I don't know about you, but I don't know any ladies who go by the name James." She waved the phone in his face before going back to reading the review.
Dean recovered quickly, holding his hands up with a shrug. "I'm not opposed to having male admirersâthey're some of my biggest tips."
You snorted a laugh. "Oh, I bet they are."
The table dissolved into laughter around you, the liquor and line cook's joint lowering everyone's inhibitions.
Your manager looked up from the phone at you, her eyes lighting up. "Weren't you also working on the bar last Saturday?"
You took a sip of your drink, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. "I think so? Was that the night we had two bachelorette parties come in?"
"Yeah, we ran out of cold brew because of them." Dean said. "I set a new record for how many numbers I could get in one night."
You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore him like everyone else at the table. "Yeah, I was definitely on the barâmy arms are still aching from shaking espresso martini's all night."
Your manager leaned forward, her glassy eyes glinting at you teasingly. "I think this review is about you," she said in a sing-song tone.
You couldn't help but feel a little giddy at someone leaving you a review calling you cute, even if they were most likely stumbling drunk.
Allieâyour fellow waitress who was sitting on the other side of Deanâgrabbed the phone and read the review herself, scrolling on the screen with her eyes growing wider until a delighted gasp left her.
She looked at you with a beaming smile. "This James guy has been leaving reviews about you for months."
"What?"
She nodded eagerly, a small squeal leaving her. "This is so good, nothing this exciting ever happens here!" She was almost bouncing in her seat as she looked back at the phone, her excitement shaking the booth. "Okay, this one is from Valentines Day: waitress's frown is cute, I still should've bought her flowers." She fell back against the booth seat, clutching the phone to her chest with a dreamy sigh.
Your heart stuttered, the tipsy fog in your head clouding further. "That'sâit doesn't say my nameâŠ" you trailed off with a nervous laugh. "It could be about any of the waitresses."
Your manager snorted. "We called you sourpuss the whole shift, you wouldn't stop frowning."
Before you could start your rant about how Valentine's Day is just another highly commercialised holiday and people shouldn't need a specific day of the year to celebrate love, Allie started reading out another review.
"This one is from four months ago: come to this bar if you want to see a real-life angel."
Dean groaned, "that's so fucking cheesy." He turned to look at you, "I hope you're not falling for this shit."
"We don't even know if it's about me!"
"I think it's cute," the new waitress piped in from the other end of the booth. "You've got a secret admirer."
"More like a stalker." One of the line cooks mumbled.
"Oh," Allie gasped, "this man has it bad. These are borderline love confessions." She reached past Dean, handing you his phone with the review page still open.
You hesitantly grabbed the phone from her, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. There's no way some guy was leaving these reviews about youâŠright? That just seems insane, like something out of a romcom. Or something that will end with a restraining order and you moving states away.
The phone faintly trembled in your unsteady hands, your eyes narrowing against the screen's bright glare.
James B.
â â â â â a month ago
Wars were started over smiles less beautiful than hers.
Oh.
That's maybe the most romantic thing anyone has ever said about you.
You don't know if it's about you.
You exhaled shakily, shrugging nonchalantly as you handed the phone back to Dean. "He could be talking about any of the waitresses." You repeated your earlier statement. And then for good measureâ"It's hardly a complimentâwars are started over literally anything."
Allie looked at you with wide eyes, bringing her hands up and shaking them in a strangling motion.
"Do you know anyone called James?" Your manager probed, clearly invested.
"No." You answered, ignoring the dull, tingling sensation at the back of your head. "No one significant."
"Well, even if he does turn out to be a stalker, at least he boosted our ratings."
Over the next few weeks, your coworkers had made it their personal mission to find out the identity of James B. Your manager had the brilliant idea to set up a weekly bar tab giveawayâfor people to be in the draw they just needed to put their business card in a jar on the bar. What your customers didn't know was that every Friday after close, Allie and Dean were emptying the jar not to find a lucky winner but to look for any cards with the name James B.
It turned out there were a few more James B.'s than they were expecting, and there were no other parameters to narrow down their search. And much to their chagrin, you didn't recognise any of their names.
"Wait!" Dean exclaimed, holding a finger in the air. "Why don't we just reply to one of his reviews?"
"Oh," Allie said, leaning forward in her chair, "that's actually kind of smart. Maybe we could say we have a thank you gift for our number one fan?"
"Or we could just ask who he is."
Something about that made you uneasy.
After the night you all first discovered the reviews, Allie had drawn up a timeline of them which revealed this James guy had been leaving reviews for a year. And while they never mentioned your name, everyone knew they were about youâbut you didn't want to believe that; it felt absolutely insane.
Majority of the reviews were brief and mundane, similar to the first one Dean saw. But a few of themâŠthey read like poetry, like the pages out of someone's journal. They mentioned your smile, how your laugh could cure any ailment, that being in your presence was like witnessing a supernova.
It was beautiful and terrifying.
And every day it was looking more like a stalker than someone you knewâyou didn't want to give him attention in fear that it could evolve from something harmless to dangerous.
"Already tried that," your manager sighed next to you. "He didn't reply."
Something in the atmosphere felt off when you shouldered the brownstone's front door open with a heavy sigh. It was well past midnight on a Saturday, and the soft murmuring you would usually hear coming from the loungeâSam had a habit of passing out in front of the TV on Saturday night'sâwas nonexistent. You didn't think much of it, your mind single-focused on needing a scolding hot shower to wash away the ten hour bar shift.
Your work uniform was drenched and sticking to you uncomfortably, a crust of sugary cocktails and beer lining your skin. It had been one disaster after anotherâthe beer keg soaking you as you tried to tap it, the cocktail shaker exploding in your hands, the new waitress who failed to call out "behind" and you ended up covered in a customers chili cheese fries.
You welcomed the boiling water, scrubbing your skin until it was red and raw. Visible steam swirled from your body even after you retreated into your room, and only then did some of the tension ease from your shoulders. Your fatigue ran bone deepâit felt like you were dragging your feet through mud as you slowly started your nighttime routine.
A noise cut through the eerily silent night, soft and faint, but an unmistakable echo from the room next to yours. It made you pause, your eyebrows drawing together. Then more noise followed, three breathy high pitched moans that the wall separating your rooms failed to drown out. A hot realisation curdled your stomach, rising through your body until it settled in your chest and throatâa tight, unrelenting fist clenching and making it harder to breathe.
Bucky had company.
Your ears zeroed in on the noises against your wishes. The last thing you wanted was to hear the guy you had a debilitating crush on fuck someone else. And yet, you stood frozenâyour towel still wrapped around you, water dripping onto the floor, heart trying to beat out of your chest. Your nervous system had entered fight or flight mode, triggered by the sounds of another woman's pleasure.
Sweat started to line your back, your hands trembling where they were clutching the towel, chest stuttering as your breaths turned sharp and quick.
The moans grew in volume and soft thuds reverberated against the wallâthen, a faint low murmuring graced your ears. A deep voice you would recognise anywhere, that you had heard through the wall plenty of times during your one year living there.
You snapped out of your shock, ripping open your work bag to find your headphones. Your phone shook in your hands as you searched for 'calming' playlists, your thumb jabbing violently at the first result. You turned the volume up loud enough to vibrate your eardrums, but the damage was already done.
You paced the length of your room, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to calm downâto will your racing heartbeat to slow, to tamp down the spiralling thoughts that made you feel like you were drowning.
You got ready for bed in a blur, trying to stay as quiet as possible with your heart beating wildly in your throat. The exhaustion that had your bones aching after your shift was lingering, but had been overwhelmed by the adrenaline surging through your veins. You laid in your bed, trying to concentrate on your breathing.
Inhale. One, two, three, four.
Hold. One, twoâ
It didn't sound like she was faking it.
The breath rushed out of you quickly.
You squeezed your eyes shut tight, clenching your fists and trying to focus on the sensation.
Inhale. One, two, threeâ
Bucky's bed is pressed up against your shared wall.
You grabbed the pillow next to you and pressed it against your face, something between a pained whimper and frustrated groan leaving your throat.
Did he like to talk? Was he whispering dirty things in her ear, telling her how good she felt, how much he wanted her? Did she get to hear him moan and whimper?
The music in your ears had become irritating, overstimulating you even more. But there was no way in hell you were taking your headphones offâyour heart was already broken enough.
Did he call her sweetheart, too?
You slept for two hours, maybe three if you were being generous. The exhaustion won out against the anxiety around two am, only for you to jerk awake two hours later when the same noises echoed through the wall. At some point in the night your headphones had slipped off and you were defenceless against the noises your body had already filed as a threat.
Your nervous system reacted as if you were being hunted down by a lion, not overhearing your roommate-slash-crush have sex. It was a horrible way to wake upâyour body pumping full of adrenaline and cortisol before you even took a deep breath.
The headphones went back on a second too lateâleaving a scratched record of giggles looping through your head that the music couldn't drown out. One giggle that you knew well, that had you beaming with pride whenever you coaxed it out of him.
A silent tear slid down towards your ear, disappearing into your hairline as you stared at the ceiling.
Hours passed before it felt safe for you take the headphones off, and even then anxiety gripped your chest whenever you thought about leaving your room. Everything that had once felt safe, had once felt like your solace, now felt like a prison.
You knew you were being dramatic, knew that your jealousy and hurt was unreasonable. Bucky wasn't yours, he would never be yoursâyou knew that, you'd always known that. But that's the thing with crushesâthey are irrational, uncontrollable beasts that mistake kindness for attraction, that disguise inevitable heartbreak as fluttering butterflies.
Opening your bedroom door slowly, you saw the flash of a towel dart into Bucky's roomâtwo faint sets of giggles sounding behind the closed door, slicing into your aching heart. Heat burst behind your eyes and you willed the tears to stay at bayâat least until the shower could drown out your sobs.
You sat on the floor of the shower, staring at the wall while hot water rained down on you, each drop feeling like a knife piercing your skin. You sat there, unblinking, as your vision blurredâthe water washing away your endless tears. You sat there as the shower stream changed from a burning fire to an icy bite, your body shivering but unmoving.
Nat's banging on the door about rising water prices snapped you out of your dissociative daze.
"Bucky! Oh, fuckâdon't stop, pleaseâ"
"Yeah? You like that?"
"Yesâgod, so much!"
"You feel so good, baby."
Thump, thump, thump.
You had taken your headphones off for half a minute while getting changed. All it took was thirty seconds for tears to swell in your eyes and a silent scream to claw at your throat.
It had been four weeks since you first heard them. Four weeks of knowing your crush was fucking someone else less than three metres from your bed. Four weeks of debilitating anxiety and heartache consuming you until there was nothing left to take.
You knew their routine; she came over every Wednesday and Saturday, always after ten pm. Depending on your roster for the week, sometimes you were home when she came overâsubjected to hearing Bucky's low baritone greet her at the door, their footsteps padding down the hall past your room, the soft click of his door closing and the giggles that followed.
You fucking hated giggles.
By the end of the second week, you had put in a request to work the closing shift every Wednesday and Saturday. The tightness in your chest and churning in your stomach never faded, but you took some comfort in knowing you would only be in the same house as her for a few hours. You hadn't met herâyou didn't even know her nameâbut you were envious of a faceless woman, a voice you heard in the dark, because she had the one thing you wanted but could never have.
No one brought her upâthere were no casual chats between the boys, no probing questions from Nat. Apart from the first time, she was out of the house by six amânarrowly avoiding Sam and Steve leaving for their morning run. You weren't even sure they knew she existedânot until Nat gave you a sympathetic smile over a glass of wine, confirming that they did in fact know without uttering a word.
The usual nights the five of you spent together continued as normal. Or, at least as normal as you could manage. The space between you and Bucky grewâhe stopped trying to charm quiz answers out of you, and you hugged the arm of the couch like it was a life preserver during movie night. The soft conversations over morning coffee ceased to exist, the nights of you two reading together in the lounge just a hazy memory.
The distance made your heart yearn for him while his proximity made your nervous system overload. It was a push and pull that sucked the life out of you, exhausting you until you were a shell of who you used to be.
When Sam asked you what your first heartbreak was you instantly thought of Liam Turner from the sixth grade. He was the classic class clown that both charmed and annoyed all the girls in your grade. He sat next to you during History and English, always pestering you for help and trying to make you his partner in crime. You did what any smitten eleven year old girl would doâyou handed him a note. It was simple, you didn't even write your nameâjust "do you like me" with tick boxes for yes and no. You handed it to him before recess and watched with bated breath as he ran to his group of friends, watched as all of them turned to you and fell into hysterics. You crashed into your mom's arms once you got home from school, sobs wracking your body as you felt like you were going to die from the crushing sensation in your chest.
What you felt that day wasn't even a drop in the agony that consumed you when you walked into the lounge for movie night.
"You're late!" Nat yelled, her voice travelling down the hall as you rushed through the front door.
"I know, I know," you yelled back, heading for your room and changing out of your work clothes in record time. You made your way towards the lounge once in comfy clothes. "The health inspector would not stop asking me questions, no matter how many times I told him I'm not theâ"
Your feet and words came to a halt once you reached the doorway to the lounge, your heart dropping to the floor and shattering into a million pieces.
Because there she wasâsitting in your usual spot with her feet resting on Bucky's lap, one of his hands engulfing her ankles.
She was beautiful. And the complete opposite to you in every way possible. From the texture and colour of her hair to the shape of her body. From the clothing and jewellery she wore to the colour of her eyes.
The two of you weren't even comparableâyou were from completely different planets, different universes.
It hit like a sucker punch. You weren't his type, not even close.
You're a fucking fool.
She smiled brightly at you, the white of her teeth glaring. You faintly heard her great you through the ringing in your ears, offering you her name. You managed a meek hi in response, dragging your wide eyes away from her over to the other couch.
Big mistake.
Nat and Steve were already looking at you with pity in their eyes, a silent "are you okay?" written all over their faces. Nat scooted closer to Steve, tilting her head towards the small open spot next to her on the couch. You knew the second you sat next to them that her comforting presence would wrap around you and tear away the last of your fraying composure. So, you did something you had never done before.
"Move it, bird brain." You muttered to Sam, squatting down next to his beanbag and shoving his shoulder to make room for you.
"You ever tried not being bossy?" He grumbled in reply, shuffling to the right so you could collapse down next to him.
Normally you would respond with something just as snarky. But that required mental energy that you did not possessâenergy that was being drained with each passing second she sat behind you.
You settled into the beanbag, the rustling of polystyrene beads filling the quiet room. You tried to take calming breaths as subtly as possible, the blood from your broken heart clogging your throat and lungs.
You hummed, keeping your eyes glued to the TV screen as Steve navigated through the streaming app.
Sam stiffened next to you, turning to you with a peculiar look on his face. "What? You got nothing to say to that?"
You sighed. "Every white guy's number one film on letterboxd. Try being less predictable next time, Rogers." You said in a flat monotone.
A deep, breathy chuckle sounded behind you, and it took all of your diminishing willpower to not turn and get a glimpse of the soft smile that haunted your dreams.
You tried your best to focus on the movie, you really did. You tried to focus on the press of Sam's shoulder against yours, something tangible to keep you grounded. But nothing could distract you from the soft murmuring behind you, the sound of her giggles as Bucky provided commentary throughout the movie. It was something that you normally didn't mind, something you indulged in, even. Not tonight. Thirty minutes into the movie, your eye had developed a constant twitch from suppressing the urge to turn around and tell them to shut the fuck up.
At one point Sam's hand had fallen over both of yours, stopping you from picking at your bleeding hangnails. You didn't even notice the sting from the exposed woundsâtoo preoccupied with gnawing on the inside of your cheeks.
You walked into your shift the next day with another request.
You clocked into your shift on Tuesday afternoon with a sinking pit in your stomach. A feeling that you had become accustomed to over the last couple months, a feeling that had you walking the scenic route home at night, delaying your arrival. It was the feeling that you had started associating with home, along with the ache in your chest.
You loved quiz nightâyou loved seeing what stupid team names people came up with, loved judging them when they got such an obvious answer wrong. Once upon a time, you had loved seeing Bucky's handsome face sitting in your section, waving you over with an up to no good smile stretching his lips. Now, it all felt like a taunt.
Nothing was out of the ordinaryâthe opening shift said it had been quiet as usual, there had been a couple bookings from newcomers for quiz night, and the tabby cat that wandered the block came in to say hi.
And then, she walked in. Strolling in behind Nat and Steve, her arm looped through one of Bucky's, flashing you a kind smile as they made their way to their usual booth. In your section.
You wanted to scream. Cry. Jump into the East River.
The bar had become your safe placeâwhich honestly sounded crazy, you hated half of the customers. But your home hadn't felt like your home since she walked through the door. And now she was in the one place that hadn't been tarnished.
She was nice, you knew she was. But she was a constant reminder that your heart belonged to a man who never looked at you twice.
You rushed over to Allie who was standing at the bar waiting for Dean to finish garnishing cocktails.
"I need you to swap sections with meâplease." You said in a frantic breath.
She turned to you, her face already telling you her answer. "Hell no! I've got two tables of big tipper'sâI am not giving that away."
Dean leaned his elbows on the bar. "I'll swap with you."
Your head whipped to him at a comical speed, your wide eyes meeting his unbothered grin. "âŠBut you hate working the floor."
He nodded towards one of your tablesâone of the newcomer bookings, a booth full of girls in their early twenties. A few of them were already looking over at your trioâmore specifically, looking at Dean. You turned back in time to see him flash them a wink.
Your chest deflated with a relieved breath. "This is the only time I am ever going to be grateful for you being such a dog."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't." You and Allie said at the same time, matching deadpan expressions on your faces.
Allie turned to you, squinting suspiciously. "Why do you want to swap?"
You shrugged, looking at her forehead to avoid eye contact. "Just felt like a change."
"You said pleaseâpretty desperately, too. It was kinda hot." Dean piped in.
You glared at him, choosing not to acknowledge his comment. You turned back to Allie looking at you expectantly. "Variety is the spice of life?"
She hummed disbelievingly. "Mhm, sure. We'll talk later."
Working the bar brought you no reprieve; every time you walked to the cocktail station, they were in your direct eyeline. Every time you poured a cosmo, shook a lemon drop, garnished a mojito, you could hear them laughing. You watched how she fit in like the missing puzzle piece, her body slotting perfectly under Bucky's armâlike that's where she belonged. You watched your roommates welcome her in with open arms and crying laughter, the realisation hitting you that she replaced the temporary hole your absence had opened.
Your knees were shaking while you closed up the bar, your hands scrubbing the beer grates with an urgency that was cause for concern.
"Hey, hey, woah that'sâ" Dean came up next to you, his hands gently clasping your wrists. "That's enough," he said, uncharacteristically gentle, "your hands are bleeding." He brought your hands up, your unfocused eyes seeing spots of red raised on your knuckles.
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. What's up with you today?"
Dean led you away from the bar, grabbing a first aid kit on your way over to where your manager and Allie were sitting, working through the next week's orders. He pushed you into a chair, stepping back with an awkward pat to your head.
"I'm sensing that this is a girl talk so I'm just gonna finish closing the bar."
The two women turned to you with concern painting their faces. Allie glanced down at your hands and opened the first aid kit, pulling out supplies to treat the cuts. Neither of them spoke while she tended to your hands, watching your face closely.
"These aren't too bad, just scrapes." She said softly, packing the kit back up and sitting it out of the way. She clasped your hands lightly, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hands. "What's going on, sweetie?"
You looked up from where you had been staring at the table, seeing her eyes and your manager's shining with worry. A silent tear slipped from your eye, leaving a damp path in it's wake.
"Whose kneecaps are we busting?" Your manager demanded.
That broke you.
Your shoulders started shaking, your throat closing in on itself in the form of a sob. Your heart escaped from your chest cavity, rising up like bile. Your vision was completely blurred, hot tears taking your eyes hostage. You caved in on yourself, wrapping your arms around your body as your frame trembled like a leaf.
You couldn't even feel embarrassed about bawling like a baby in front of your coworkers, the pain you had been sheltering for months overruling any other emotion. Allie wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her warmth and making you cry harder. Your manager placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, her thumb rubbing calming patterns as they both whispered words of comfort to you.
You gasped for breath, trying to get some air past the ball in your throat. "I-It's soâ" your words broke with a hiccup, "it's so fucking stupid." You rushed out. "We were neverâugh!" You wiped at your cheeks furiously, willing the tears to stop. You gulped down a deep breath, trying to focus on the comforting touches and not the agony vibrating every cell in your body.
"We were never anything. God, I'm sobbing over a guy thatâhe was only being nice, and I made it into something it wasn't." You garbled out, the brine of tears lining your lips.
You opened up to them, telling them about how deeply you fell for Bucky in between sobs. How you felt like a goddamn fool, your lovesick heart reading into things and mistaking your strictly platonic relationship as something else entirely. You told them how you hate going home most nights, finding it harder to breathe the closer you got to the brownstone. You admitted to them that it's not just jealousy over him with another girl, it's something deeperâthe fear that you've been replaced, that he doesn't need you anymore.
"âŠmy sleep is fucked, I'm on high alert every second I'm homeâI don't feel safe in my own home. WhichâI know, it sounds so fucking dramatic. But it's like she's seeped into every crack, changing the foundations I built over a year ago. Now she's turning up hereâon fucking quiz night, my nightâand I just can't escape." You finished with a deep breath, feeling drained from your emotional monologue.
Allie, who had kept her arms wrapped around you throughout your rambling, lifted her head and looked at you with a mix of understanding and sympathy. "That's why you wanted to swap sections, because she was here." You nodded meekly.
She sighed and sat back in her chair. "Give me a couple days to clear out my spare room. You need it more than I need a second closet."
Before you could start sobbing over her offer a muscular arm reached in front of you, depositing a vodka cranberry onto the table.
Dean's voice rumbled behind you. "If it makes you feel any better, I've wanted to sleep with you since my first shift."
"Dean," both women next to you hissed. You turned to look at him, catching that easy-going smile of his and you started laughingâthe first genuine one in weeks.
Thursday 6:18pm
Nat: Hey, you working late tonight? The boys are getting restless, Sam is threatening to watch Top Gun if you're not home in 10âŠ
You: shit i forgot to tell you i'm working thursday nights now! sam can watch whatever mediocre garbage he wants :-)
Nat: We can change movie night to another night! Maybe Sunday? Whatever works for you x
You: don't worry about it, thursdays work for everyone else!
Nat: Is everything ok? I feel like I hardly see you anymore :(
You: aw i'm sorry natty :-( just been picking more shifts up at work - boss has me training the newbies! promise we'll have a wine night soon xx
"I'm moving out."
It was the Sunday after that fateful quiz night, the sun beating down on your four roommates as they laid out in the backyard. Sam was going on about some barbeque he had been invited toâtelling the other three that if they behaved he would let them join him. Nat's head was resting on Steve's chest, half asleep while he massaged her scalp. Bucky was lying with a hand behind his head, shirtless, and reading his well-loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring.
Allie had sent you a photo of her spare room an hour before, a bottle of Tito's sitting on the floor the only thing in the empty room. You couldn't put off telling your roommates any longer, knowing that once you moved out you would start feeling like a human again. You stood in the doorway, arms tight across your bodyâfearing for their reactions.
Sam stopped talking abruptly, Nat jolted awake and sat up from Steve's chest, Bucky slowly lowered his book to his chest. Nat was the first to speak.
"What?" She asked softly.
You started to shuffle your feet, looking around the backyardâat the fairy lights that flickered like dying stars, the small veggie patch Steve cared for like it was his childâavoiding eye contact with them. "You remember Allie from the bar? We've gotten really close these past few months and she was looking for a roommateâkinda felt like a no-brainer, y'know?"
You finally looked at them, your heart beat rattling your jaw. Sam looked speechless, his face frozen in confusion. Nat was looking at you with that assessing gaze, her eyes squinting like she knew something else was going on. Steve nodded his head solemnly, his features pulled into a frown that looked out of place on him. Bucky had abandoned his book completely, sitting upright with his pretty lips downturned, his sunglasses hiding whatever emotions swam in his cerulean depths.
"I can sort out getting the room filledâcan probably pay double rent if necessaryâ"
"I'll handle it." Bucky cut you off, his tone gruff and curt.
You wrung your hands together, hating being under the spotlight of your roommate's attention. "Are you sure? It's a bit late notice so it might be hard toâ"
That same curtness cut you off again,"I said I'll handle it, didn't I?"
He probably wanted his girlfriend to move in.
Your three other roommates momentarily directed their bewildered stares to him, just as surprised as you at his bluntness. Just like Steve frowning, this was out of character for him. You could feel his eyes glaring holes into you through his sunglasses.
Nat shook her head at his attitude, turning her attention back to you. "I didn't know you wanted to move out."
Okay, time for the liesâjust like you practiced in the mirror.
"It's not about wanting to move out," you started softly, "it's just something that naturally unfolded. Her landlord upped her rent last month and she can't afford it on her own anymore." Steve and Sam nodded along, while Nat was looking at you with that unwavering stare. You didn't even want to glance at Bucky. "She jokingly asked me over drinks a couple weeks ago if I was looking and after thinking on it, I think it's the best choice for me. It's closer to work, cheaper than what I currently pay and, as I said, we've become really good friends."
Nat continued squinting her eyes at you, watching as you fidgeted with your fingersâyour tell that you would rather be anywhere else.
"Okay," she acquiesced. "When are you moving? We'll throw a little goodbye party."
"Great idea," Sam mumbled.
"Sometime in the next week." Everyone's eyebrows shot up at that. "And that's not necessaryâI'd prefer it if you didn't do anything; it's not like I'm leaving the city, I'll only be a few blocks away."
Steve recovered from the brief shock at how soon you were leaving them. "Let us know what day and time, we'll help you move your stuff."
"I appreciate the help, really I do, but my coworkers have already offeredâwe have Dean to do all the heavy lifting."
That made Bucky stir, standing up with a scoff and arms folded across his chest. "Did you think about us at all? Sounds like you can't wait to get away from here."
You froze, the ice running through your veins equal to the frost in his tone. "That's notâI didn't want to bother youâ"
"How can you think you bother us after all this time?" He asked, the frost melting into waterârevealing something that trembled close to desperation.
"Bucky," Nat warned.
"I just don't understand," He snapped, shaking his head and walking towards where you were stuck in the doorway. He paused in front of you, his sun slicked chest making your heart gallop. You kept your eyes on his chinâlocking on the clef still visible through heavy stubble, resisting the desire to glance at his naked chest, or worse, look into his eyes. "Mind letting me through?" He muttered lowly, his frame now blocking you from the sun. You ducked your head, pressing your back to the doorframe to give him space.
"Buckâ"
"Not now, Steve." He bit out, your body absorbing the heat radiating from him as he brushed past you. You stood still, head tilted to the floor until you heard his door slam closed.
"Well, that wasâŠ" Steve started, his uneasy chuckle filling the heavy atmosphere.
The shock of his attitude left you dazed. You expected some blow back from Natâshe could read you like her favourite book, knowing the emotions you held within yourself better than you did. You expectedâhoped, reallyâthat they might be a little down about your departure, but Bucky acting like this wasn't even in your realm of possibility.
"What was that about?" You muttered to yourself.
Sam stood up with a huff, grabbing a beer from the cooler near the table. "Fucking idiots, the pair of you."
You timed the move for the following Wednesday, not wanting to risk another night of hearing what you had labelled your own personal torture. You had been working nights since Sunday, avoiding any interactions with your roommates. The vibe in the brownstone felt off, the air tasting stale even when you were the only one home. Nat had been texting you for updates, apologising for Bucky's strange behaviour, and assuring you your friendship with her wouldn't slip away after you were gone. Sam continued to send you memesâhe had an affinity for the gradient instagram reelsâand Steve saved you the best strawberries from his garden, hiding them in the fridge for you.
Bucky was radio silent.
Tuesday 5:36pm
Nat: Just spoke to Allie - apparently you're not working quiz night anymore?? What's going on?
You: we thought the new waitress should work it for a bit! good experience :-)
Nat: You should come join us then! We would be unstoppable with you on our team xx
You: maybe another time? don't want the other teams to think you have an unfair advantage lol
Nat: Fuck what they think. We miss you! Movie night was not the same without you last week :(
A month passed before you saw Bucky again.
You had been texting Nat on and off, feeling an awful reluctance to seeing her. It had nothing to do with Nat and everything to do with you continuing to avoid the problemâyour feelings. Because you still thought about him, religiously so. You hated yourself for itâhated your brain conjuring up scenarios of him and her, replaying the happiness that glowed on his face the couple of times you saw them together.
Your sleep had improved, at least. There was no anxiety constricting your chest when you walked home, no fear for what you might hear through the walls. Allie encouraged you to cry it out on the bathroom floor, over tubs of ice cream on the couch. While it was horrible to address and to actually feel the heartbreak instead of intellectualising it, you had to admit you did feel lighter. It was a weight off your chest for someone else to know your secret, to let you speak about the pain and not forcing you to move on.
Your manager was quick to approve your request to work the day shiftsâasking if you wanted to get your managers license, to be her dependable day shift manager. You were elated to have something else to focus on, and the pay rise wasn't bad either. Working the days also meant you weren't there in case your old roommate's called in for a drink on their way home from work.
But you knew your luck was going to run out some day soon.
It was on a quintessential late summer eveningâthe kind where the sun was low enough to shine through the tree canopy, casting the ground in a scene of dancing light and shadows. Gravel crunched beneath your shoes as you ambled through Prospect Park, listening to the harmony of kids laughter, dogs barking, and a busker playing guitar. Walking through the park lengthened your journey home by twenty minutes, but on a day like this it was hard to resist.
You heard him before you saw him, too lost in appreciating the world around you to notice him strolling towards you on his trek home. He called out your name softly, hesitantly. And you would recognise that husky baritone even if you were locked in a soundproof pool drowning underwater.
Your gaze ripped away from watching a pair of swans glide along the shimmering lake, your heart jumping into your throat as you saw Bucky a few metres in front of you. He was wearing his gym clothes, the black compression top clinging to his chest with light patches of sweat. His hair was tied back in a small bun, a few strands stuck to his dewy forehead and your fingers twitched to brush them back. Soft sapphire eyes roamed the valleys of your face, his shoulders dropping with an almost relieved sigh.
You hated how your body heated under his watchful gaze in an instantâhated that he still had control over you and he didn't even know it.
"Hey," he said quietly, a small smile tugging his lips. He hesitated for a moment, doubt flickering across his face before he shook his head and stepped closer, lifting an arm and placing his hand between your shoulder blades to pull you into his embrace.
A startled gasp escaped you at the contact, blood pulsing in your ears as his warmth enveloped you. His other arm wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on the small of your back to pull you in closer. Your traitorous body relaxed in his hold, the heady scent of sandalwood, spice, and his sweat clouding your mind.
Fuck him for always smelling so irresistible.
"Hi." You murmured, muffled by his shirt. You kept your arms at your sides, knowing that if you felt his body beneath your hands you would backtrack all the progress you had made over the past month. You could already feel yourself slippingâcomparing being in his arms again to lying in front of the fireplace while rain pelted the windows and thunder clapped outside. The feeling of being warm and safe despite a raging storm.
He rested his chin on your head, his chest expanding underneath your cheek as he inhaled deeply. The hand between your shoulders flexed, pushing you further into him. His chest rumbled below you and you felt his words more than heard them. "Missed you."
You stepped back quickly, stumbling out of his embrace. His brows pinched together and his lips turned down with a frown. He took a small step back and cleared his throat, a muscle flexing in his jaw as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"Iâuhâhow, how have you been?"
You folded your arms across you chest, focusing on the light freckle on his neck. "I've been okay."
"That's good, great. Iâwe've missed you." His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard and his voice dropped lower, softer . "Place isn't the same without you."
You had to leave before you did something foolishâbefore you dropped to your knees and pleaded for an ounce of his affection.
You cleared your throat, trying to rid the sudden emotion clogging it. "How have you been? How's the new roommate?"
Bucky's eyes flicked away from you, a hand leaving his pocket to rub the back of his neck. "Fineâthey're fine." Splotches of red coloured his cheeks. "They don't compare to you, though."
What the fuck did that mean?
"Umâokay, well, that's good? I shouldâ"
"Listen," Bucky interrupted you before you could flee from the increasingly awkward encounter. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on the gravel lining the earth. "IâI want to apologise for my behaviour, when you told us you were leaving." He looked up at you, remorse and distress bleeding from him so viscerally you could almost grab it. "I was in shock, I thinkâit doesn't really matter, I'm not trying to excuse it. I just wanted you to know that I really am sorry and you didn't deserve that." He closed the distance between you more, hands raising towards you before they dropped to his sides. "Iâum, I would hate for that to be the reason you haven't come 'roundâif you felt uncomfortable because of me."
It was resting on the tip of your tongue, the truth. It was begging to spill out, to tell Bucky that you were uncomfortable because of him but not for the reason he believed. You could handle a little attitudeâwhat you couldn't handle was hearing the guy you're in love with treat another woman the way you had fantasised about since the day you met him.
Grateful for the fact you had been getting enough sleep to keep a grasp on your filter, you accepted his olive branch instead of starting a confessional. "Thank you, Bucky." You looked into his eyes, trying to express your sincereness. "I appreciate it, really."
Hope flared bright across his face. "So, wanna join us next Thursday? Your pickâI'll tell Sam to keep his comments to himself."
Guilt curdled your gut. "Thank you for the offer, but I can't make it, sorry. I already have plans."
If sitting in front of the TV watching New Girl and doomscrolling on your phone constituted as plans.
And just like that, the flame was extinguished. "Oh."
You interrupted before he could say more. "It was good seeing you, Bucky, but I have to get going." You stepped around him to continue home, giving him a small wave goodbye before focusing forwardâwalking brisker than the tranquil evening called for, your shoulders too tense for the serene landscape.
"Bye," he murmured, the sound drifting towards you with the light breeze.
You kept your head straight forward the rest of the walk home.
You expected the text from Nat the next day, knowing that Bucky would've told your former roommates that he ran into you. She demanded you meet for brunch at your earliest convenience, and given that it was Saturday and you had no plans you couldn't deny her any longer.
You were sitting on the couch putting on your shoes when Allie burst through the front door, her hands full of bags from the morning market and mouth stuffed with cake from the pĂątisserie around the corner.
"Oh my god," you heard her mumble around frosting and sponge. "Guess what I just found out."
"Apparently not what decent manners are. Swallow before you talk."
A mop of floppy blonde hair appeared in your doorway. "That's what he said."
You rolled your eyes as Dean sauntered in with a wolfish grin, closing the door behind him. "What the hell are you doing here?" You shot wide eyes at Allie, wordlessly demanding an explanation.
She took your advice and swallowed before speaking again. "I ran into him at the marketâhe has an update on James B!"
A mix of anticipation and dread made your morning coffee stir. "I thought he stopped leaving reviews?"
Dean collapsed next to you, eyeing the dress you were wearing with approval. "You dress up for me, angel?"
You shoved his shoulder. "Not in a million years. What's the update, dumbass?"
He pulled his phone out with a sigh. "He left a review last nightâdon't look at me like that, I set up notifications for this very reason." He tapped on his phone before handing it to you, the screen displaying the latest review.
James B.
â â â â â 13 hours ago
Quiz night isn't the same without her. Nothing is.
Your heart rate picked up, sweat gathering at the back of your knees.
What the fuck?
"But last night wasn't quiz night?" Was the only thing your dumbfounded mind could vocalise.
"I mean, yeah, but you're missing the point!" Allie interjected, standing behind the couch and leaning her head down to read the review. "Now we know he's a quiz night regular! That narrows the search pool down so much."
"Ooo, what if it's one of the old dockmen?" Dean giddily queried.
"They do normally sit in your sectionâor, well, what used to be your section." Allie supplied, wandering back to your kitchen to put away whatever trendy new chutney she bought from the market.
Your eyes followed her, catching sight of the clock hanging on the wall. "ShitâI'm going to be late." You jumped off the couch, frantically grabbing your phone and shoulder bag. "We can theorise more later, Nat is going to murder me for being late."
"Bye, honey!" Dean yelled as you ran out the doorâstopping for a second to throw him the middle finger.
Nat was sitting at a table towards the back of the cafe, her crimson hair a stark contrast to the soft pastel interior. The atmosphere was buzzing and livelyâevery table occupied, with laughter and heavenly aromas wafting out the open door. It was the go to brunch spot for Brooklyn natives, it's covered outdoor courtyard an enticing location on a warm summer's morningâyou were surprised Nat even managed to score a table.
Her face lit up once she saw you, standing to welcome you with a hug. "One more minute and I would've thought you were ghosting me."
You hugged her just as tight, the smell of her perfume relaxing your shoulders and making your heart clenchâyou shouldn't have gone this long without seeing her. "God, I know, I'm sorry. Allie came home with gossip before I could make my escape."
You both pulled away and sat down, reading the menu like you hadn't looked at it online on your walk over.
"Gossip? Anything interesting?" Nat asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
You let out a deep sigh. "It's a long story. One that's better told over a bottle of wine."
"Okay, now I am beyond intriguedâyou better not leave me hanging for another month." She shot you a small glare, the smile on her face lessening it's sharpness.
The waitress came over and took your orders before the two of you fell into easy conversation. She updated you on what trouble the boysâSamâhad gotten into, and you told her about the time you and Allie were locked out in your pyjamas and tried to scale the fire escape. Neither of you broached the subject of why you moved out, but it was lingering in the airâin the soft way Nat said Bucky's name. Throughout the hour you spent chatting you noticed she didn't mention their new roommate once, and the curiosity was making you restless.
"So, how's the new roommate, really? Bucky didn't say much about them."
An out of place nervous hesitation tightened Nat's face, her eyes darting between yours as she bit her lip. After a tense few seconds her shoulders dropped with a sigh.
"Honey, there is no new roommate."
You reared back, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What? But Bucky said yesterdayâhe said they were fine."
"Of course he did," she muttered under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked at you with a huff. "The room is empty. BuckyâŠhe's been paying for it."
"What?" You nearly exclaimed, your body temperature rising.
"Look, I don't know why he didn't tell you the truthâI honestly don't know what goes on in his mind, he has made some terrible choices the last few months." She placed a gentle hand on top of yours, her tone softening. "Choices that had you leaving us."
"I don't understand." You muttered quietly.
"I probably shouldn't be the one to tell you this, butâSteve and him were drinking after work last week and he admitted he's paying for the roomâsaving it in case you want to come back."
Shock rendered you speechlessâfrustration climbing up from your gut, opening the partially healed scars seared into your heart. Confusion, irritation, and heartache swirled together until they formed one emotionâanger.
Your hands balled into fists, your clenched teeth making your jaw ache. "I'm sorry, what?" You bit out.
You barely noticed the smirk twitching her lips, red starting to blur your vision. "Sam and Steve are out fishing todayâhe's home alone if you want to go bite his head off."
You didn't need to be told twice, the red-hot fury bringing you to your feet quickly. You grabbed your stuff with urgency, your hands already starting to shake.
"Brunch is my shoutâgo knock some sense into him."
It took you less than ten minutes to reach the brownstone, outrage powering your legs with a speed you didn't know you were capable of. The fresh air did nothing to calm you downâyou were too consumed by the memories from the past year, the heartache you endured, your utter confusion at Nat's revelation.
Your fist pounded on the wooden door, not stopping until it swung open to reveal a puzzled Bucky.
His eyes widened at the sight of you, pink lips stretching into a knee trembling smile. Your dress caught his attention, his smile freezing as blue eyes trailed down and back up your body.
He cleared his throat before speaking. "What are you doin' here, doll?"
"Don't fucking call me that," you seethed, pushing him out of your way to storm inside. You barged down the familiar path to your old room, ignoring Bucky as he called out your name behind you.
You opened the door to find the room exactly how you left itâempty. You whipped around to see Bucky standing a few feet behind you, looking down at the ground with a hand rubbing his neck and a fire overtaking his cheeks.
"Why the fuck are you paying for an empty room? No, better yet, why did you lie to me about it?" You loudly demanded, just shy of shouting.
He stumbled over his words, looking up to see you with your eyebrows raised, arms folded across your chest, hip jutted outâthe perfect picture of barely contained rage.
"Well, Iâyou see, it'sâ" he dragged a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. "It's complicated?"
"Yeah, no shit. You were so pissy about me movingâit makes no sense! Just tell me the truth for once, Bucky!" Your voice raised higher, your hands flying around as the confusion and aggravation took hold of you.
Bucky's own frustration started to seep through, the volume of his voice a notch below yours. "I was upset because you were leavingâand you didn't seem to care about us, just running straight to Dean for help!"
He was upset? He had no fucking right to be upset.
Hot, frustrated tears flooded your eyes without your permission. "I left because of you, Bucky! No one else, just you." You stepped toward him, pushing a finger into his ridiculously sturdy chest. "And I didn't run to Dean! He offered to help after he watched me have a fucking breakdown over you."
His glistening eyes stared into yours, his eyebrows drawn upwards in distress. "âŠWhat?"
A crack had fractured the dam keeping you contained, your pent up thoughts and feelings crashing through and destroying the concrete barrier.
"Every fucking day I came home feeling like my worldâmy heartâwas being torn apartâ" your voice cracked and you turned around, starting to pace the length of your old room. "And I know, I fucking know, it's not your faultâthat my delusional mind and hopeless romantic heart are to blame for reading into things that weren't there, for creating a fantasy of youâof us."
You wiped away your flowing tears, sniffling as you tried to catch your breath. "But now, you expect me to, whatâfeel bad for leaving? I was barely human." You let out a wet, humourless laugh.
"What are you talking about?!" He demanded desperately, his face shining with frustration and something akin to hope.
"I'm talking about the goddamn walls, Bucky! I don't know if you know but they're pretty fucking thin! And every Wednesday and Saturday night I heard you and herâI heard the guy I was obsessed with fucking somebody else and it killed me."
"I only started seeing her to get you out of my head!" Both his hands found their way to his hair, tugging the dark strands in frustration. "And maybe I wanted to make you jealousâwhich I know is a terribleâ"
You closed the distance between you in two quick strides, reaching out to shove his chest. "Jealous? You wanted to make me jealous?!" You seethed out, your fists hitting his chest as your vision blurred. "Are you blind?! Everyone could see how infatuated I was with you." Your hits lost their strength, your cheeks growing even more wet.
"Hey," Bucky whispered softly, his hands gently encircling your wrists and his thumbs rubbing tender patterns on your radial pulse. "Breathe for me."
"No," you stubbornly whispered back, despite your panting breaths slowing to match his. You drew in staggering breaths, finally noticing how hard your heart was beatingâyour body shaking with every thump. Your fists unfurled, your palms resting flat on his broad chestâthe fast pounding of his heart a near match to yours.
He let go of your wrists, his hands cupping your face delicately. He wiped your tears away with such care it made your heart ache. Your vision cleared enough to focus on his face, seeing his eyes shining with their own tears.
"I think we're both a bit blind, sweetheart. Everyone can see how smitten I am with you." He rested his forehead against yours, the space around you two growing charged in the aftermath of your anger. "Sam gives me shit about it every day." His breathy laugh ghosted your lips, leaving tingles in it's wake. His voice dropped low, "I'm so fucking in love with you I was leaving reviews about you like someâlike a hopeless sap, hoping you would realise it was me."
His confession of love flew over your head, incredulity controlling your mind. "That was you?!" You gasped, pushing his chest lightly. "I thought I had a stalker, you idiot."
The memory of the night you and Allie read all the reviews ran through your head, remembering the disturbingly romantic details written; remembering the reviews you secretly reread like a guilty pleasure, going to sleep with a giddy smile and fluttering butterflies because someone was noticing you.
"That's all you took from that?" He shook his head minutely, one of his hands brushing down your back to cradle your waist. "I'm trying to tell you I'm in love with you here."
You stepped out of his embrace, your mind still picking through all the small details. "Butâthe first review was, likeâ" you started to pace again, your hands resting atop your head. "It was well over a year ago!" Your voice raised again, recalling how horrible you felt only a month agoâthe heartbreak you could've avoided. "Why did you never say anything?!"
"Because I was scared!" His voice raised to meet yours. "I didn't want to ruin things and lose you forever!"
"Yeah, well look at how that turned out!" You gestured wildly to the empty room.
"Why are we shouting again?" Bucky walked towards you, reaching for your hands. You were both breathing heavily, the sound of your pants echoing in the emptiness as your chests heaved up and down.
"Because I'm mad at you." You finally met his eyes, the blue bleeding with regret and sorrow. Your voice dropped lower, timidness starting to creep in. "YouâŠyou broke my heart, Buck."
He gripped your hands tighter, raising one to rest on his chestâright above his heart. "I am going to spend every day until I die trying to make it up to you." His remorse polluted the air around you, tears welling in your eyes once againâthis time from the pain clouding his. "If you'll let me."
"That's a bit dramatic," you mumbled, sniffling lightly. "Until you're fifty is fine."
He laughed, wet and husky. He let go of your hands to cup your face again, smoothing his thumbs along your cheekbones. Your breath hitched at the touch, the pain in your system being diluted by the drug that is Bucky.
He leaned in closer, his eyes darting between yours and your lips. "I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?"
You managed a small nod before his lips were on yoursâdesperate and aching, stealing the breath from your lungs. One of his hands shifted to the back of your neck, tilting your head to kiss you deeper. Your hands found his chest again, fisting his shirt and causing a groan to sound in the back of his throat. He took control of the kiss with no complaint from youâhappily letting him suck your bottom lip before nipping it, opening for him when his tongue grazed your lips.
The first touch of his tongue against yours had fire scorching down your body, the intensity of his kisses settling in your gut and awakening the need you've had for him for over a year.
The annoying human need for air had you pulling away from his lips, gasping as you tried to catch your breath. His stubble scratched your skin as he trailed kisses along your jaw, tilting your head to reach the sensitive spot below your ear. He gave it a soft experimental kiss, his tongue darting out and drawing a small whine from you.
His chest rumbled beneath your hands. "You talk about the walls being thinâtrust me, I know." He stepped forward, his fingers dancing down your sides to grasp your hips, backing you into the wall. "I know you like to beg, what pretty sounds you make when you're about to come." He trailed his nose back along your jaw and down the other side of your neck, nestling into the crook and sniffing deeply with a small moan.
"Wh-what? I haven'tâI never brought anyone home." You stuttered out, head starting to feel heavy from the lust fogging it.
"No, but you still have needs, don't you?" He let out a small chuckle, trailing feather-light kisses along your collarbone. "You thought you were alone, thought it didn't matter how loud you let yourself be." He pulled back, bringing a hand up to brush his fingers along your cheek, making their way down your neck. Onyx eyes met yoursâa shiver racing down your spine at the barely contained hunger in them. "I came home with a migraine and you were so wrapped up in pleasure you didn't even hear meâbut I heard you. And shit, doll, the noises you made cured my migraine faster than any pain meds ever have." He dropped his forehead to yours, his breath fanning your lips. "I had to fuck my fist three times that night. I replayed every little whimper, moan, every gasp of please until it drove me insane."
A gasp escaped you at his admission, heat rolling through your bodyâa mix of embarrassment and hunger swirling in your core.
"And then, like it was the universe's sole purpose to bring me to my knees, you walked in the next day wearing this dress." His fingers drifted to the neckline of your dress, toying with it as your breasts moved rapidly beneath. "Looking like a fucking angel sent here to torture me. Like sin wrapped in white lace. I had to leave before I dropped to my knees and begged for a tasteâto let me worship you."
Your heart was trying to beat out of your chest, the throbbing in your core escalating with every word he murmured into your lips.
"You kept on wearing it, and I had to pretend like I wasn't replaying those sounds every time I saw youâlike my dick wasn't rock hard at just a glimpse of this fucking dress." The hand on your neckline travelled down to the line of lace below your breastsâhis thumb stroking along it making your breath stutter and nipples harden. "I had to do something, I felt like I was going insane. I started seeing her to get you out of my headâdidn't fucking work now, did it?"
The mention of her cut through the Bucky induced haze, and you hesitatedâneeding clarification before you could let him consume you.
"Are you still seeing her?" You whispered.
"Fuck no, we were strictly casual. I broke it off the day you left."
Your head reared back an inch, hitting the wall lightly. "You know that doesn't make me feel better, right? That you only wanted to sleep with her because I was in the next room."
Both his hands gripped your waist, squeezing gently. "Okay, thatâthat wasn't what I was trying to get at." He lifted his head to stare into your eyes. "What I meant was that you leaving really showed how much of an idiot I'd been, wasting my time with her when you were right next door."
"Why didn't you reach out, then?"
He shrugged, his eyes darting away nervously. "I didn't think I had a right to. I wasn't exactly proud of how I acted the last time we spoke."
You saw Bucky almost every day for over a yearâyou knew he didn't get outwardly nervous often, and you knew when he was being vulnerable and honest. The Bucky in front of you wasn't lyingâyou could tell he was genuinely worried he'd messed everything up.
You relented with a sigh, lacing your hands around his neck. "I think it's time you start making it up to me."
"Gladly," he said before pulling you into him and kissing you deeply. He pressed his hips against yours, pushing you harder into the wall. You gasped at the feeling of his bulge against your stomach, your core trembling and aching in anticipation.
The pace of the kiss picked up, Bucky's tongue licking into your mouth with a deep moan. His grip on your hips tightened and he spun you around, walking you backwards towards his room without removing his mouth from yours.
He kicked the door shut behind him, leading you towards his bed with his hands drifting down to squeeze your ass. You broke away with a moan, your lips swollen and chin tender from his stubble.
"Sit down for me, sweetheart." Bucky rasped out. You quickly obligedâyour need for him making you ready to do anything he said.
He kneeled on the floor in front of you, slowly taking your shoes off. His hands trailed up your bare legs, stopping when they reached the hem of your dress.
He pressed a soft kiss to your knee. "You gonna let me make you feel good?" He mumbled into your skin.
You nodded rapidly, your hands clenching his sheets in desperation.
He clicked his tongue. "I need words, angel."
"Yes, Buckyâplease. Please touch me," you gasped out, the sight of him on his knees robbing your intelligence.
His mouth tilted into a smirk, his eyes gleaming. "There you go with that begging again."
He clasped your knees, spreading your legs open. His breath tickled the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, goosebumps erupting and surging up to your core. He pressed light kisses along one thigh, stopping when he got to your dress and switching to the other.
You could feel slick leaking out of your cunt, your clit pulsing from the lack of attention.
"Buck, stop teasing, please." You whined softly, lifting a hand to push the hair away from his eyes. He nuzzled into your hand, turning to press a kiss into your palm. Your hand vibrated as he hummed low.
He grasped the hem of your dress, lifting it slowly up to your hips. "Lean back f'me."
You leaned back on your elbows, your body trembling with need as his hands scorched paths up your thighs.
He let out a low groan once your dress was up past your hipsârevealing your soaked panties to him. His eyes locked onto them, his pupils dilating until only a sliver of blue remained.
"All this from a little kissing?" He brushed a thumb along the wet patch, grazing your clit. Your head fell back with a loud gasp, your hips twitching towards his touch.
"Sensitive," he mumbled. His hand moved, tracing the edge of your pantiesâyou were sure he could feel the heartbeat pulsing in your core. "How long has it been?"
You lifted your head up, looking into his dark eyesâthe desire in them reflecting your own. "Since before Iâ"
You cut yourself off with a soft moan, your body jerking as Bucky pressed his thumb to your clit through your underwearâcircling it with a steady pressure.
"What was that?" He asked smugly.
Your chest heaved as you tried to wade through the sensations buzzing through you. "Since before I moved in," you rushed out quickly, another moan escaping you at the feeling of his touch directly on your pussyâhis hand slipping underneath the wet fabric.
"Fuck," he breathed out through clenched teeth. He grabbed the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs quickly. He groaned out looking at your exposed cunt, and you tried to close your legs on instinct.
He gripped your thighs to stop them from closing. "None of that," he growled out lowly. "Let me look at her."
His hands trailed up your thighs until they reached your bare hips, yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You fell onto your back softly, your breath shaking from the impact.
He pulled your lips apart and moaned loudly. "She's fucking dripping, sweetheart."
You clenched at his words, his teasing leaving you aching and squirming. He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss millimetres away from where you needed him most. He breathed you in deeply making your hips buck up with a needy whine.
"Bucky, please."
He dragged a single finger from entrance to clit, pulling it back with a string of your arousal connecting the two of you. You sighed at the small touch, opening your eyes to see Bucky suck the tip of his finger.
He groaned at your taste, hands grabbing the back of your thighs to push your legs back and spread you wider.
"Gonna make her feel so good, pretty girl." He slurred out, his lips trailing a path of fire up to your core. "Be a good girl and make those noises for me again."
He dove in, licking the same path as his finger. His groan vibrated through you and your hands flew to his hair, gripping the strands as you gasped.
"Taste so fucking good," he mumbled before latching onto your clit. He sucked gently, circling the nub with his tongue. You rewarded him with a tug to his hair and a shaky moan.
He picked up the pace, moaning as he went from tasting you to devouring. He thrusted his tongue into you, lapping up everything he could. The room filled with the lewd sounds of your slick and his saliva coating your pussyâwith your unabashed moans and gasps bouncing off the walls.
He pulled away from you, his chin and beard glistening. "That's it, pretty. Being such a good girl." You whined at the praise, using your hold on his hair to push his face back into you.
Your hips rocked against his face, the flame in your core growing fast. He moved an arm to your hips, holding them down to keep you still. He sucked your clit harshly, your back arching at the pleasure he was unleashing on you. You gasped out his name as your orgasm built rapidly.
"Fuck, Buckyâright there! Please, I'm gonnaâ" you cut off with a loud moan, your body jolting from him lightly biting your clit. Stars started to dot your vision as he continued to feast on you like a starved manâlike you were his first sip of water after wandering the desert.
The knot in your core clenched tight before it unravelled, Bucky's groans vibrating through you pushing you over the edge. You came with a cry, your hands yanking his hair hard. A blissful fire spread throughout you, making your toes curl and head float.
Bucky drank up your release, prolonging your high until you were shaking and trying to push his head away. He relented, moving back to kiss and nip your inner thighs. Your heavy panting filled the room, your pussy twitching as you came down.
You propped yourself up on weak elbows, your droopy eyes meeting his glazed, pussy drunk ones.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered reverently. He moved back in closer, his breath fanning your cunt making you clench around nothing. "Another one."
He slowly licked at your hole, leaving your overstimulated clit throbbing painfully. Your arms gave out, a whimper crawling up your throat. You brought a hand up to your chest, squeezing a breast over your dressâtrying to relieve the ache in them.
"Fuck, look at you," Bucky cooed, pulling away from you to stand up. "As much as I love this dress, I think you'll look even more beautiful without it."
You nodded, sitting up slightly so he could pull it over your head. Your eyes were level with his crotch, seeing the large bulge tenting his pantsâyour mouth salivating already. Once your dress was off you reached a hand out, palming his hard dick over his pants. You gasped at the heavy feel of him, your walls clenching at the thought of him stretching you open.
His head rolled back with a moan, a hand catching your wrist to stop your movements. "Not right now." You let out a displeased whine and his mouth twitched with a smirk. "Later, promise. Lay back down so I can worship you."
He grasped the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head, leaving you to gape at his insane torso. You had seen it before but you always adverted your eyes quickly, scared of getting caught staring. Now, you could stare and touch all you wanted.
You leaned up to run a hand over his bare chest, his body scorching beneath your skin. You trailed a finger down the hard ridges lining his body, a thrill running through you as his muscles rippled and breath stuttered. Your mouth found his pecks, lathering them in wet kisses while your hand teased the waistband of his pants. He grasped your chin, jerking your head up to look at him. His jaw was tense and eyebrows furrowed, a slight darkness shadowing his face.
He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "What did I just say, sweetheart?" He mumbled, his tone laced with warning.
Before you could reply, his hands grasped your waist and pushed you up the bed until your head met his pillow. He crawled on top of you, kissing your neck.
"Thought you were gonna be a good girl." He mumbled, biting the spot below your ear and making you gasp. He pulled on one of your bra straps, letting it snap back onto your skin. You gasped louder at the small stinging sensation, the slight pain dousing your core in gasoline.
"Please, I amâI will be. M'sorry." You whimpered out, tilting your head back as he continued his assault on your neck.
He hummed in response, sucking on your pulse point before trailing lowerâhis stubble scraping the top of your breasts. He reached a hand behind your back, unclasping your bra with ease before pulling the straps down your arms slowly.
Your nipples hardened more once exposed to the cool air, begging for Bucky's attention. He lavished your breasts in kisses, covering every inch of skin with his spit. One of your hands clutched onto his bicep while the other wound into his hair again. He continued to avoid your nipples and you squirmed underneath him, trying to move his head to where you wanted him.
He relented, licking a nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You moaned from the relief and the zaps of pleasure racing down your torso. He pinched your abandoned nipple, rolling it between his thumb and finger as he bit down on the other one. You arched off the bed with a loud whine, the pain and pleasure morphing into one. He switched nipples, dolling out the same sweet torture with moans lodged in his throat.
Once both your nipples were raw and aching he kissed down your abdomen, hands clutching your hips as his mouth worshipped your stomach. You giggled at his beard tickling your sensitive skin and he lifted his head, his blown out eyes meeting yours with a softâalmost unbelievingâsmile.
"You're breathtaking," he whispered. "And you're all mine, yeah?"
"Yes, Buck. Only yours."
He hummed in approval, pressing a light kiss to your hip. "Good. 'Cause I'm yours, angel. I'm sorry it took so long for me to say."
He moved back down to where you were dripping onto his sheets, your body wound tight from your first orgasm and his teasing. He licked into you without hesitation, drawing out loud noises from you as he sucked your sensitive clit.
"You're so wetâwanna live between these thighs, doll."
A hand left your hip to poke at your entrance, one finger sliding in easily before your walls squeezed at the intrusion. He pumped it in and out slowly until you were begging for more. A second slipped in, both of them curling upwards and grazing the spot that had you arching off the bed with a sound you'd never made before.
He lifted his head up, praising you for how good you were beingâtelling you how pretty you sounded. His mouth descended on your clit again and his fingers picked up their pace.
Your head rolled around on his pillow, the dual stimulation to your pussy making a heat rush through you like you'd never experienced with anyone else. You could feel how he was paying attention to you, altering his movements to gauge what sounds he could pull out of youâgetting to know what you liked.
The ball tightened faster than the first time, your body edging on being overstimulated. Both your hands were fisting the sheets, your hips grinding against Bucky's face and fucking his fingersâthe obscene squelch of your pussy soaking his hand mixing with your moans and gasps.
"Let me comeâplease. Been s'good for you, Buckâ"
You know you didn't need his permission to come, but begging and submitting to him felt so good. Your own words pulled the coil in your core tighterâhis resounding moan shaking through you telling you how much they affected him too.
A third finger joined in and you clenched down hard, the stretch almost throwing you off the cliff. They curled into your spot over and over, his other hand moving to push down on your lower stomachâcausing something between a moan and squeal to leave you.
"Course you can come for me, sweetheart. I want nothing more than this sweet pussy drenching me."
With one last curl of his fingers and suck to your clit, your body started to shake, the ball bursting and sending waves crashing through you. Your eyes rolled back and your ears started ringing, deaf to the borderline animalistic noises you were letting out. You clamped down on his fingers hard, your juices gushing out and coating his handâdripping and staining his sheets.
Your head was up in the clouds, cotton filling the space your brain used to be. You briefly registered his mouth leaving your overstimulated and raw nub, his fingers still moving slowly as you floated through your high. Small, gentle kisses across your cheeks, nose, and eyelids had you giggling breathlessly. Your body felt heavy, your eyelids struggling to open.
"You doin' okay?" Bucky whispered into your temple, peppering more light kisses to your forehead. You hummed softly.
"Need'a minute," you slurred out.
His fingers slowed and then left you, a whine slipping past your lips at the emptiness. You felt a hand rubbing soothing circles onto your scalp, your body turning towards his warmth. You slowly opened your eyes to find him staring at you, electric blue lazily roaming around your face.
"Hi," you whispered, lifting a heavy hand to push hair behind his ear. He grabbed your hand and covered it in soft kisses, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Hi. How you feeling?"
You leaned in, nuzzling your nose against his. "Goodâreally good," you muttered before kissing him softly. Your hand weaved into his hair, pulling him in as your kiss grew more passionate.
One of his hands cradled your jaw and the other spanned the small of your back, pushing you into his bulge. You bit his lip teasingly, revelling in his body shuddering and drinking down the moan he let free.
You grinded your hips against hisâgasping and whimpering at the rough fabric of his pants dragging against your oversensitive pussy. He responded in kind, rutting his bulge into you with a groan.
"Want you inside of me," you mumbled into his lips, throwing a leg over his to roll your hips harder.
"Fuckâokay," he breathed out. He pulled away to reach for his bedside drawer but your hand on his chest stopped him.
"Are you clean?"
His eyes widened and he nodded dumbly. "I got tested the other weekâwait, I'll show you." He reached for his phone but you stopped him with a giggle.
"I believe you. I'm cleanâobviously. And on birth control."
His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, pupils dilating until they physically couldn't anymore.
"Are you sure?" He gripped your face in his hands, eyes darting between yours. "I only used condoms with her so I understandâ"
That fact pleased you absurdly, your hand trailing down his chest to his groinâsqueezing his heavy bulge. "I'm sure. Wanna feel you, all of you."
He pulled you into a searing kiss, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you. Your mouth moved against his eagerly, both your hands on his waistband to unbotton and unzip his pants. You reached a hand into his boxers, a gasp leaping out as you wrapped your hand around himâhis cock throbbing and big. You briefly worried about the limp you'll have later.
He panted above you, his eyes closing as you stroked him slowly. You could feel his boxers damp with pre-cum, beads of it dripping from his tip. You brushed your thumb over it and he moaned gutturally, eyes opening as you pulled your hand out. You kept eye contact with him as you brought your thumb up to your lips, licking his pre-cum before sucking it into your mouth with a satisfied moan.
He pulled your thumb out, tracing his own along your lip before you sucked on itâtwirling your tongue around it.
"You're gonna be the fucking death of me, angel." He groaned out.
He pushed away to pull his pants and boxers off, throwing them behind him carelessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his cock standing proudâyour mouth somehow simultaneously drying up and drooling at the sight. He was the biggest you'd ever seenâlong and thick, the tip flushed red with his need. Your knees fell apart on instinct, the fire building up just looking at him.
"Wanna take a picture?" He teased.
"Another time," you whispered, surging up to grab his shoulders and pull him back on top of you.
He chuckled into your mouth before it dissolved into a moan, your hips bucking up and smearing his cock with your slick.
He grabbed your hips, pulling them up slightly as he settled between your legs. You both broke off from the kiss with matching gasps, the feel of him sliding along your slit making you both dizzy. His tip bumped into your clit with each glide, whimpers echoing from your chest as you twitched from the stimulation.
"You're so fucking pretty," he mumbled, dropping his head to kiss and nip along your neck.
"Please," you whined, your hips rocking without thought.
He pulled back and looked down between you, groaning at his dick already glistening with you. He wrapped a hand around himself, tapping his head against your clit a few times. You squealed, starting to feel dizzy with desire. He shushed you gently, dragging a thumb along your cheekbone before positioning himself at your entrance.
His eyes met yours as he pushed in slowly, the intensity in them making you choke up. It had never felt like this beforeânever felt so passionate, adoring. It made everything feel elevatedâyour nerve endings singing with pleasure wherever he touched you.
You clenched down on him instinctively, your walls stretching around just the tip. Your chest heaved as you tried to relaxâyou weren't in pain, it just felt so fucking good.
"Be a good girl and let me in," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you.
Your legs opened wider for him, your core relaxing to let him push in further. Moans and gasps filled the air around you as he thrust slowly, sinking until he reached the hilt.
The breath knocked out of you, the feeling of him filling you completely making your head rush. He moved slowly at first, small thrusts to get you accommodated before pulling back until just the tip was inside. He sank home with deep moans, his cock pushing against your spot with every thrust.
You wrapped your legs around his waist making him reach deeper inside you. He picked up his pace, his hips meeting yours with soft slaps.
"You feel so goodâoh, fuck!" He exclaimed as you clenched down on him.
"Harder, please." You moaned out, scratching your nails down his chest.
"Yeah? My pretty girlâmy little angelâlikes it rough?"
You nodded deliriously, the tension in your core sizzling with every thrust.
He sat up, bringing your hips with him. He held them up and delivered harsh thrustsâeach one expelling a gasp out of you. Your legs tightened around him, his strength pushing you up the bed.
The headboard knocked against the wall, adding to the symphony of moans, whimpers, skin slapping that was already deafening the room. Each sound had you soaring higher, each thrust kissing your cervix sending a shock through you.
Bucky removed your legs from his waist, clutching your thighs to push them towards your chest. Your wide eyes met his with a gasp, the change in position igniting a roaring fire everywhere. He dropped forward slowly, pushing into you so far you swear you could feel him in your throat.
He groaned into your ear. "This isâgod, you're made for me."
His thrusts resumed their previous pace, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Sweat beaded along his hairline from the exertion, his hair sticking to his templesâand he looked so beautiful, your eyes started to well with tears.
Everything rushed through you in an overwhelming burstâthe heartache you suffered, the months of yearning and uncertainty, how much you loved him. How much he loved you.
Tears fell from your eyes as the sensations built higher and you grasped his face, pulling his forehead to yours. Your gentle kiss to his lips was a stark contrast to his cock drilling into you.
"I love you," you whispered, your words breaking on a sob of pleasure.
His hips stuttered, his eyes squeezing tightly. "You can't say that again or I'll blow my load." You laughed at his clear struggle to hold back, making him groan as you squeezed him tighter.
He continued his thrusts, wiping a thumb under your eye to catch your tears. "This is the only time I'm gonna make you cry from now on, yeah? Only gonna make you sob cause I'm fucking you so good."
You nodded, letting out little "uh-huh"'s as you climbed higher and higher.
"Play with your clit, sweetheart." Bucky rasped out.
Your hand snuck between your bodies to press circles around your clitâyour back arching with a whine. Tears continued to track down your temples, wetting the pillow below you.
"Fill me up, please," you managed to get out between whimpers and sobs. Bucky's grip on your thighs tightened, surely leaving marks for you to admire over the next few days.
"Come with me," Bucky moaned, pressing a scorching kiss to your lips as his thrusts grew sloppy. You tensed below him, your body locking up before pure ecstasy barrelled through you. You came with a scream of his name, clenching down on his cock to keep him trapped. Your vision faded to white, your body trembling and pulsing.
Bucky groaned out your name as his orgasm rushed through him, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you as he filled you completely with cum.
He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest heaving against yours. He slowly lowered your legs then wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.
You laid there for a few minutes, the both of you gradually coming back down to earth. He pulled out of you slowly, the both of you groaning at the feeling. A mix of your releases dripped out of you, coating your ass and staining the sheets.
"Stay right here," Bucky said before giving you a chaste kiss, pulling his boxers on to run to the bathroom. He came back with a wet towel, sitting on the bed next to you to clean you up with gentle, reverent touches.
He climbed behind you, pulling you into his strong chestâa satisfied rumble vibrating your back. He kissed the back of your head, trailing towards your ear and giving your lobe a gentle bite.
"I love you too."
"When can we move your stuff back in?"
Bucky and you were still lying on his bed, basking in the warmth of each other as the afternoon sun trickled through his half closed curtains.
You turned in his arms, slinging a leg over his and booping his nose. "I think we should go on a couple dates before I move in with you."
His nose and eyes scrunched with that laugh you first fell in love with. "Oh, is that right?"
"Living together before you've even bought me flowers? Sounds a bit rash to me."
"I'll buy you a whole flower shop," he mumbled, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare hip. "Well, maybe not right awayâI am paying for two rooms, y'know. Would be nice to be able to buy groceries next month."
You laughed softly, poking his bare chest. "Yeah, and whose fault is that again?"
He grumbled something unintelligible, hiding his face in your neck to lavish you in more kisses.
Wars were started over smiles less beautiful than hers.
The reminder of his reviews about you flourished in your mind, prompting you to pull his head away from your neck.
"So, you're James B? This whole time?"
His face bloomed red, a huff leaving him before he nervously licked his lips. "YeahâŠ"
"Why? Why start leaving them in the first place, why didn't you tell me?"
He shrugged slightly, lifting a hand to trace the lines of your face. "We were at the bar drinking, and some guy nearby pointed to you and said ratings must be higher with you working there. AndâI don't know, I guess I was drunk enough to agree and thenâŠit just happened?"
You furrowed your brows at him. "Why not just write in a journal?"
"Trust me, I was already doing that." He laughed softly, his eyes glowing. "I guess, in a weird way, I was telling you how I felt without actually telling you. Stupid, I know."
Warmth started to spread from your chest. "It took us ages to even notice the reviewsâwe only realised they were there because Dean assumed one was about him."
Bucky tensed under your hands. "Fucking Dean," he muttered.
"âŠAre you jealous?"
The blush on his cheeks grew, his eyes avoiding yours. "He was always staring at you, and you laughed with him likeâlike you did with me. I thought there was something goin' on."
Is it bad that him being jealous is turning you on?
"You have nothing to worry about, Dean is a gross womaniser who I only see as an annoying brother." You pushed at Bucky's chest, making him lie on his back as you straddled his hips. You pressed kisses along his chest, your hips slowly rocking against his. "He did tell me he wanted to sleep with me, though."
Bucky's hands grasped your hips harder, his face turning stormy. "I don't wanna hear you talkin' about another guy when you're on top of me, doll." He muttered low.
You leaned in to kiss him, your hips moving faster and drawing gasps out of the both of youâhis dick already half hard under you. "You're so hot when you're jealous."
The sound of the front door opening had you both freezingâyour former roommate's laughter drifting down the hall.
"Get dressed, lovebirds!" Sam's voice rang out. "We've got fish to fry!"
a/n: thank you to this pic on pinterest that inspired half the plot (i couldn't get the ho to fit into a moodboard đ) yes, team, reader shouldâve made bucky grovel HOWEVER high emotion tension filled make up sex is hot đ«Š bro is buying her flowers and taking her on dates every day for the rest of their lives đ
Nothing has felt the same since you left. The warm, inviting refuge of your shared quarters now feels cold; the morning light that once shone upon your smooth, sun-kissed skin now only highlights the empty side of the bed. Cassian couldnât bear to move out after you left, hoping against hope that you would return and let him explain everything now. Let him tell you how much he let his cowardice ruin the way things played out and that he was ready to be brave.
Heâd had no idea that when he left on that mission that he wouldnât be returning home to you. Thatâd heâd only be returning just to break your heart and his. The Rebellion had given a lot to Cassian: a home, friends, a purpose. But it had also taken the most precious, important thing from him: you.
The moment heâd locked eyes with you across the tarmac was one heâll never forget. Nanette had grabbed him immediately and kissed him on the mouth. Heâd had to resist the urge to push her away and vomit at the taste of someone else on his lips. His eyes on your teary ones broke his heart, fighting against all his instincts to drop the woman in his arms and run to you. But then he saw the disbelieving expression on your face, then, the pain. The distress of having him rip out your heart in front of the entire Rebellion and seeming to not care at all that heâd left you bruised and bloody in front of your fellow rebels.
That? That destroyed him.
Cassian presses a hand to his still aching heart. Itâs been months since he ruined his life, but the pain still remains.
Every time he enters his quiet quarters, he can't help but to remember how youâd filled the space. How youâd danced around the room, wearing only his shirt and your silly socks pooled around your ankles. How youâd sprawl out on the bed, holopad in hand, absorbed completely in a story. Every time, Cassian would lean against the doorway for a moment, admiring how beautiful you were even when you werenât trying. Heâd pad softly over to your side, lay next to you, and place tender kisses on your cheeks, then your neck. Youâd giggle every time at the ticklish sensation, and the sound filled Cassianâs soul with life.
Before you, heâd survived. Had thought his life had enough purpose to keep going. But now? Now Cassian has no idea how heâd ever done it, how heâs even functioning now without your presence to make him feel alive.
The darkness had started to creep in there on the flight field as youâd turned your back and run away from him, from the pain he had caused you. His eyes had tracked you until you disappeared inside the hangar and it had taken every ounce of training to keep his face neutral and continue with Nanette.
Heâd rescued Nanette from an Empire controlled planet. She was a double agent that fed information to the Rebellion, but apparently there had been suspicion cast on her when Rebellion information was found to have been traded to the Empire. Cassianâs mission â that he was not made aware of prior to take-off â was to "rescue" her and make it seem as if Cassian had been distraught at the idea of her taken captive by the Empire and that he had wanted to save her on his own. That he had feelings for her that never existed in the first place. Cassian had vehemently objected to the new mission, until Merrick let him know the real reason Cassian needed to keep her close: sheâd somehow gotten her hands on information about you.
Cassian had apprised Merrick of your and his relationship not long after it began, letting Merrick know that if he saw an issue with the two of you performing your duties together then he needed to let Cassian know right then, or else heâd keep you as close to him as possible to ensure you remained safe. Merrick knew the quality of both your and Cassianâs work, especially when you were both on the same mission, so he had no issue with the relationship. Thatâs why heâd enlisted Cassian on the mission to keep your information out of the hands of the Empire, or else they could lose one of their best assets at a momentâs notice.
Cassian had still not agreed with Merrick having him act as if he had feelings for Nanette, but Merrick had insisted that the only way she would believe that Cassian wanted to save her for a reason other than her betrayal of the Rebellion is that sheâd have to think he did it out of his own personal interest. Cassianâs previous dealings with Nanette had shown that she was indeed someone that was suspicious of people's motives. But when it came to love and romance, she was a very shallow, lonely person that was known to rush head-first into a relationship.
And so, in order to keep you safe, Cassian destroyed you both.
He knew, realistically, that what heâd done was unforgivable. That being intimate with someone else was a dealbreaker for you. Youâd told him before of your parents - how your father had been unfaithful to your mother and how it had shattered her and turned you into someone who loathed disloyalty. Youâd told Cassian in no uncertain terms that that was something you would not abide by. Cassian had assured you that he would never betray you in such a way, that he only had eyes for you, that his heart was yours.
He could only hope and pray to all the deities in the galaxy that you would eventually absolve Cassian of his sins against you. But what had he done? The one thing you were certain to never forgive.
And forgiveness feels unattainable at this moment.
You sit in a seething silence next to him, refusing to participate in any conversation that Cassian tries to start. You just stare at the holopad in your hand and read the mission briefing over and over again.
As angry as you are, as averse to Cassianâs company as you are, he canât help but feel his heart spark with warmth at having you near again. Itâs lukewarm at best, but he knows that if he were to reach over and take your hand (as ill-advised as anything could be), he would warm all the way through at the touch of your skin.
The thought of being warm for the first time in months must have muddled Cassianâs brain, since he feels his hand rise towards you before he can even identify the action. Your eyes flick from the holopad to Cassianâs hand. Your eyebrows draw down into a frown and you finally, finally, look at him.
Your eyes pierce right to the heart of him and he thinks that heâs never seen anything more beautiful than your face. Even when itâs pinched and red from anger at him, he still canât help but stare longingly.
âWhat are you doing?â you question.
Cass drops his hand and pries his eyes away from yours. âNothing,â he responds as he pulls out his vibrating holo to check the messages being relayed to him.
And then out of the silence that fell while Cassian replied to the messages: your voice. Itâs not small, exactly, but the tension is palpable. âIs it her?â
Now itâs Cassianâs turn to frown, sad. He turns his eyes back to you, sorrow plain to see as his eyes meet yours. âNo, mi amore, itâs not,â he says softly.
Cassian can see the tears that immediately spring to your eyes at the pet name. He knows that mi amore had always been the name that made you swoon, made you feel all the love he put into the words. It was unfair of him to say it now, but the vulnerability in your voice pleaded with his heart to comfort you, to give you the reassurance and comfort you clearly needed.
But you are not ready to be comforted by Cassian. Not ready to hear the reassurance he was trying to give. You are not ready to hear the apology in his voice
You nod quickly and look up to the cabin roof, blinking.
Cassian knows he shouldn't speak, that you don't want to hear his excuses right now, but gods help him, he wants you to know.
âNannette and I, we were neverââ
âI don't care, Cassian,â you interrupt as you rise from your cabin chair. âI don't want to know what you and Nannette got up to.â
You begin walking out of the cockpit but Cassian can't let you go again.
âWe were never together!â he exclaims to your back, watching as you go rigid. It's now or never, Cassian feels that if he doesn't explain himself now, he'll never have the chance.
âIt was for a mission,â he continues. âShe was leaking Rebellion information and we needed a way to get her to Base so we could interrogate her.â His voice drops to a murmur as he says, âI did it for you; because you were in danger.â
Without turning around, you say, âSo you're saying you broke my heart to protect me?â Cassian can feel the rage burning inside you even from his distance away. âProtect me, my foot. I can protect myself, Cassian. I don't need you to do it for me.â
âI couldn't take the risk, princessa. You're too important to me.â
âWas I important to you when you left me alone in our room that day? Left me alone for hours with no explanation, nothing?â You scoff mockingly. âDon't make me laugh, Cass. You were off getting drunk with your fake lover and left me to fall apart on my own. If that's your version of protecting me, I don't kriffing want it.â He hears your sniffles and sees a hand rise towards your face to wipe the tears that were surely falling. âI don't want to hurt anymore,â you cry.
Your shoulders begin to shake and you fold in on yourself, holding your tear-stained face in your hands. Cassianâs own eyes are misty and his heart is racing, because what you're saying sounds final, and Cassian doesn't want anything between the two of you to be final.
Cassian walks to you slowly and places a cautious hand on your shoulder, knowing that your preferred reassurances come in the form of action and touch. When you don't shrug him off, he offers the only words he has left.
âI'm so sorry, mi amore. I know what I did was a horrid, terrible thing, but it was only to keep you safe. I'd do anything to keep you safe.â
âIncluding hurt me?â you ask sadly, still hiding your face from him.
âShe couldn't know,â he pleads. âIf she had realized I brought her for any other reason, she would have fled. I needed to know how she got your details and aliases.â
âAnd you didn't think I should know? That I needed to be blindsided in front of all of our friends and colleagues?â Your voice whispers from your lips, pain making it ragged. âWhy didn't you tell me?â
âI couldn't risk it getting back to her. We didn't know if you'd been bugged or if it's someone close to us selling you out.â
You gasp in several ragged breaths, fighting to keep your composure and not break down further. âYou seem to forget that I'm also a Rebel spy, Cass. I know how to keep a secret and search for bugs and wires.â
âI have no excuses,â he begs, âonly my deepest, sincerest apologies, mi amore. I wasn't thinking straight with you in danger. I did what I thought was best.â
âWell, your best wasn't good enough this time.â You rise from your crouch and turn your face to his. Your eyes are red and there are splotches and tear tracks on your cheeks. You look as broken as Cassian feels. âI don't accept your apology.â
Nothing has felt the same since you left. The warm, inviting refuge of your shared quarters now feels cold; the morning light that once shone upon your smooth, sun-kissed skin now only highlights the empty side of the bed. Cassian couldnât bear to move out after you left, hoping against hope that you would return and let him explain everything now. Let him tell you how much he let his cowardice ruin the way things played out and that he was ready to be brave.
Heâd had no idea that when he left on that mission that he wouldnât be returning home to you. Thatâd heâd only be returning just to break your heart and his. The Rebellion had given a lot to Cassian: a home, friends, a purpose. But it had also taken the most precious, important thing from him: you.
The moment heâd locked eyes with you across the tarmac was one heâll never forget. Nanette had grabbed him immediately and kissed him on the mouth. Heâd had to resist the urge to push her away and vomit at the taste of someone else on his lips. His eyes on your teary ones broke his heart, fighting against all his instincts to drop the woman in his arms and run to you. But then he saw the disbelieving expression on your face, then, the pain. The distress of having him rip out your heart in front of the entire Rebellion and seeming to not care at all that heâd left you bruised and bloody in front of your fellow rebels.
That? That destroyed him.
Cassian presses a hand to his still aching heart. Itâs been months since he ruined his life, but the pain still remains.
Every time he enters his quiet quarters, he can't help but to remember how youâd filled the space. How youâd danced around the room, wearing only his shirt and your silly socks pooled around your ankles. How youâd sprawl out on the bed, holopad in hand, absorbed completely in a story. Every time, Cassian would lean against the doorway for a moment, admiring how beautiful you were even when you werenât trying. Heâd pad softly over to your side, lay next to you, and place tender kisses on your cheeks, then your neck. Youâd giggle every time at the ticklish sensation, and the sound filled Cassianâs soul with life.
Before you, heâd survived. Had thought his life had enough purpose to keep going. But now? Now Cassian has no idea how heâd ever done it, how heâs even functioning now without your presence to make him feel alive.
The darkness had started to creep in there on the flight field as youâd turned your back and run away from him, from the pain he had caused you. His eyes had tracked you until you disappeared inside the hangar and it had taken every ounce of training to keep his face neutral and continue with Nanette.
Heâd rescued Nanette from an Empire controlled planet. She was a double agent that fed information to the Rebellion, but apparently there had been suspicion cast on her when Rebellion information was found to have been traded to the Empire. Cassianâs mission â that he was not made aware of prior to take-off â was to "rescue" her and make it seem as if Cassian had been distraught at the idea of her taken captive by the Empire and that he had wanted to save her on his own. That he had feelings for her that never existed in the first place. Cassian had vehemently objected to the new mission, until Merrick let him know the real reason Cassian needed to keep her close: sheâd somehow gotten her hands on information about you.
Cassian had apprised Merrick of your and his relationship not long after it began, letting Merrick know that if he saw an issue with the two of you performing your duties together then he needed to let Cassian know right then, or else heâd keep you as close to him as possible to ensure you remained safe. Merrick knew the quality of both your and Cassianâs work, especially when you were both on the same mission, so he had no issue with the relationship. Thatâs why heâd enlisted Cassian on the mission to keep your information out of the hands of the Empire, or else they could lose one of their best assets at a momentâs notice.
Cassian had still not agreed with Merrick having him act as if he had feelings for Nanette, but Merrick had insisted that the only way she would believe that Cassian wanted to save her for a reason other than her betrayal of the Rebellion is that sheâd have to think he did it out of his own personal interest. Cassianâs previous dealings with Nanette had shown that she was indeed someone that was suspicious of people's motives. But when it came to love and romance, she was a very shallow, lonely person that was known to rush head-first into a relationship.
And so, in order to keep you safe, Cassian destroyed you both.
He knew, realistically, that what heâd done was unforgivable. That being intimate with someone else was a dealbreaker for you. Youâd told him before of your parents - how your father had been unfaithful to your mother and how it had shattered her and turned you into someone who loathed disloyalty. Youâd told Cassian in no uncertain terms that that was something you would not abide by. Cassian had assured you that he would never betray you in such a way, that he only had eyes for you, that his heart was yours.
He could only hope and pray to all the deities in the galaxy that you would eventually absolve Cassian of his sins against you. But what had he done? The one thing you were certain to never forgive.
And forgiveness feels unattainable at this moment.
You sit in a seething silence next to him, refusing to participate in any conversation that Cassian tries to start. You just stare at the holopad in your hand and read the mission briefing over and over again.
As angry as you are, as averse to Cassianâs company as you are, he canât help but feel his heart spark with warmth at having you near again. Itâs lukewarm at best, but he knows that if he were to reach over and take your hand (as ill-advised as anything could be), he would warm all the way through at the touch of your skin.
The thought of being warm for the first time in months must have muddled Cassianâs brain, since he feels his hand rise towards you before he can even identify the action. Your eyes flick from the holopad to Cassianâs hand. Your eyebrows draw down into a frown and you finally, finally, look at him.
Your eyes pierce right to the heart of him and he thinks that heâs never seen anything more beautiful than your face. Even when itâs pinched and red from anger at him, he still canât help but stare longingly.
âWhat are you doing?â you question.
Cass drops his hand and pries his eyes away from yours. âNothing,â he responds as he pulls out his vibrating holo to check the messages being relayed to him.
And then out of the silence that fell while Cassian replied to the messages: your voice. Itâs not small, exactly, but the tension is palpable. âIs it her?â
Now itâs Cassianâs turn to frown, sad. He turns his eyes back to you, sorrow plain to see as his eyes meet yours. âNo, mi amore, itâs not,â he says softly.
Cassian can see the tears that immediately spring to your eyes at the pet name. He knows that mi amore had always been the name that made you swoon, made you feel all the love he put into the words. It was unfair of him to say it now, but the vulnerability in your voice pleaded with his heart to comfort you, to give you the reassurance and comfort you clearly needed.
But you are not ready to be comforted by Cassian. Not ready to hear the reassurance he was trying to give. You are not ready to hear the apology in his voice
You nod quickly and look up to the cabin roof, blinking.
Cassian knows he shouldn't speak, that you don't want to hear his excuses right now, but gods help him, he wants you to know.
âNannette and I, we were neverââ
âI don't care, Cassian,â you interrupt as you rise from your cabin chair. âI don't want to know what you and Nannette got up to.â
You begin walking out of the cockpit but Cassian can't let you go again.
âWe were never together!â he exclaims to your back, watching as you go rigid. It's now or never, Cassian feels that if he doesn't explain himself now, he'll never have the chance.
âIt was for a mission,â he continues. âShe was leaking Rebellion information and we needed a way to get her to Base so we could interrogate her.â His voice drops to a murmur as he says, âI did it for you; because you were in danger.â
Without turning around, you say, âSo you're saying you broke my heart to protect me?â Cassian can feel the rage burning inside you even from his distance away. âProtect me, my foot. I can protect myself, Cassian. I don't need you to do it for me.â
âI couldn't take the risk, princessa. You're too important to me.â
âWas I important to you when you left me alone in our room that day? Left me alone for hours with no explanation, nothing?â You scoff mockingly. âDon't make me laugh, Cass. You were off getting drunk with your fake lover and left me to fall apart on my own. If that's your version of protecting me, I don't kriffing want it.â He hears your sniffles and sees a hand rise towards your face to wipe the tears that were surely falling. âI don't want to hurt anymore,â you cry.
Your shoulders begin to shake and you fold in on yourself, holding your tear-stained face in your hands. Cassianâs own eyes are misty and his heart is racing, because what you're saying sounds final, and Cassian doesn't want anything between the two of you to be final.
Cassian walks to you slowly and places a cautious hand on your shoulder, knowing that your preferred reassurances come in the form of action and touch. When you don't shrug him off, he offers the only words he has left.
âI'm so sorry, mi amore. I know what I did was a horrid, terrible thing, but it was only to keep you safe. I'd do anything to keep you safe.â
âIncluding hurt me?â you ask sadly, still hiding your face from him.
âShe couldn't know,â he pleads. âIf she had realized I brought her for any other reason, she would have fled. I needed to know how she got your details and aliases.â
âAnd you didn't think I should know? That I needed to be blindsided in front of all of our friends and colleagues?â Your voice whispers from your lips, pain making it ragged. âWhy didn't you tell me?â
âI couldn't risk it getting back to her. We didn't know if you'd been bugged or if it's someone close to us selling you out.â
You gasp in several ragged breaths, fighting to keep your composure and not break down further. âYou seem to forget that I'm also a Rebel spy, Cass. I know how to keep a secret and search for bugs and wires.â
âI have no excuses,â he begs, âonly my deepest, sincerest apologies, mi amore. I wasn't thinking straight with you in danger. I did what I thought was best.â
âWell, your best wasn't good enough this time.â You rise from your crouch and turn your face to his. Your eyes are red and there are splotches and tear tracks on your cheeks. You look as broken as Cassian feels. âI don't accept your apology.â
âŠBucky Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Read on aO3!âŠ
âŠsummary: bucky isn't your boss, but he's still off limits. and even if he wasn't, there's no way he'd ever go for someone like you. weird that he matched with you on a dating app then, isn't it?âŠ
âŠwarnings/tags: bucky barnes x female!reader, modern!au, ceo!bucky, no use of y/n, mutual pining, virgin!reader, dating apps, no description of reader (pictures for aesthetic only), fluff, angst, love confessions, kinda boss x secretary, plot to earn porn, feral level smut, (fingering, teasing, stripping, soft dom!bucky, dirty talk, mean bucky but you're into it, teasing, possiveness, mutual masturbation, pussy spanking, praise kink, manhandling, dumbification, big dick bucky, p in v sex, creampie), soft!bucky outside of smutâŠ
âŠwc: 13.9kâŠ
âŠAuthor's Note: this one is for all my wound up "want love but afraid of intimacy girlies". we go through it. Enjoy!âŠ
Bucky Barnes is ruining your life, and he doesnât even know it.
You wish you could blame him. Slash his tires and scream in his face, maybe drain the oil from his bike or mess up his lunch order. But he wouldnât deserve that, and youâd just end up homeless on the street. Youâd have to sell your body, but youâve never been that good at sales, and begging Steve for your job back wouldnât get you anywhere when youâd just given his best friend food poisoning.
And Bucky wouldnât deserve that. Heâs perfect. Heâs a mountain youâd love to scale, if you hadnât always been horrid at climbing. Youâd dig your nails into his chest, and maybe just keep him at eye level forever. So you could watch that quiet joy that only shines for the people he really, truly likes.
Youâre a member of that rare club. Itâs taken years of small kindnessâ and lingering in Steveâs shadow to get there.
Even if you wanted to, youâd never risk ruining that just because of some schoolgirl crush. Not when Bucky might make your heart stumble and your face heat, but he hasnât taken away your wits.
The same wits that tell you, itâs not worth the risk.
It will never be worth the risk. You worked too hard to get where you are. Itâs too good a job, to burn up because you have a few fantasies. Steve Rogers famously went through assistant after assistant, before you. When youâd asked Natasha whyâSteveâs a perfect boss, he lets you take hour long lunches and use sick time as PTO, as long as you donât tell HRâsheâd just shrugged.
âItâs not Steve thatâs making them quit.â Sheâd hummed, like you were supposed to know exactly what that meant.
You hadnât. You still donât. Best guess, he thinks that everyone can keep up with him and forgets to slow down and match pace. But you can keep up with him just fine. Without breaking a sweat. Sometimes you out-pace him, and that earns you a loud, approving laugh and small smirk from Bucky.
Bucky.
James. Youâre trying to call him James, in your head. Itâs more formal. Creates a larger gap, between private fantasy and reality.
In fantasy, Bucky is a hazy voice that creeps into your dreams and rough stubble that brushes over your cheek. You tangle the sheets and blankets between your legs in bed, and pretend heâs there, holding you tight. Dreams and scenarios play out before you go to sleep, where he backs you against a wall and declares that heâs loved you since he first saw you. Or he shows up at your door in the middle of the night, pleading because he canât take being away from you anymore. Maybe all his stares at conferences and meetings finally amount to something, and he grabs your jaw and kisses you so brutally you both just fall onto that soft couch in his office.
But Bucky doesnât just stare at you. Itâs one of his weird little quirks that Steve calls just Bucky, and Sam calls creepy and weird, heâs lucky we love him.
You do love him.
Buckyâs perfect. When youâd met him, heâd seemed as if heâd fallen out of a silver screen or leather-bound book. Youâd never understood fantasies about powerful men, until one with the brilliance of fifty suns had been adjusting his cuffs in front of you. Youâd barely been able to breathe, and itâs only gotten harder since youâve known him.
At first look, Buckyâs a sharp jawline, dark hair, and eyes that follow you into your sleep. Heâs cold and standoffish in that annoying way that makes the fool in your heart babble about how you could melt him. He snaps and orders and doesnât waste time on things that donât matter, and youâd like to hear how his voice could go soft, if you could make it.
That fool in your heart is loud. It tends to get the better of you, until the object of itâs fleeting obsession shatters the illusion by itself. Most of your crushes take a sledgehammer and destroy the heroic visage youâve made of them in a second. You just have to wait for it, and they save you from themselves.
But Bucky likes to ruin your life.
Itâs been a year, since Steve hired you. Fresh out of college, nervous, and with what Natasha called doe-eyes.
You love Bucky more than you did at the start, and itâs incredibly rude that he wonât just cut it out so you can focus.
âHowâs your mother?â You ask one night, when itâs just you and Bucky.
James. When youâre alone in a room with him, and the white sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to show off obnoxious muscles, itâs important to remember you should be calling him James.
âMy⊠Mother.â
Heâs staring at you like youâre crazy. Heat floods your cheeks, but you just nod. He doesnât get to win.
âYou said she was moving.â You shrug, and Buckyâs tongue flicks over his lips.
âI did say that.â
âYeah. I know.â You pretend to turn over a paper. âI was there.â
Bucky snorts, and itâs enough to yank your attention up. Heâs shaking his head with that tiny curve of a smile, and it makes your heart do something that might resemble overdrive.
âWhat?â
âNothinâ.â Â
âWhat-â
âMy motherâs doinâ just fine.â Bucky says, staring at you across the room. âShe loved those muffins you made her. Got me and my sisters in a lotta trouble, for not bothering to make her a housewarming gift.â
You swallow. âOh, I- I didnât mean to-â
âDonât hurt yourself.â BuckyâJames, but itâs impossible to remember when he looks at you like thatâsmirks. âIâd want you over me every time, too.â
Thereâs no possible response you can think of, to that. Not one that makes sense, and isnât humiliating. You look back to your papers, mumble a thank you, and try not to let Buckyâs low chuckle pool heat between your thighs.
You donât succeed.
But thatâs a problem for your vibrator to worry about, when you get home.
Because thatâs where the fantasy. And the reality is always starker. Harder to escape.
Bucky is a mountain of a man, but youâve never climbed anything at all. Not a tiny hill, not a slope, not even a bump in the road. The most basic things, that most people get out of the way in middle school, youâve never even brushed against. Not on purpose. Itâs just⊠Never happened. And youâre certainly not going to start doing anything now. With your older pseudo-boss and sort of friend. You donât have a death wish, and youâre certain that rejection will kill you with the humiliation alone.
So in reality, youâre never going to risk anything. Youâve never had health insurance this good before. Steve buys you lunch every dayâtechnically he buys himself lunch, but youâre allowed to get whatever you wantâand you got to move out of your rundown apartment with the landlady who kept getting mad you dared to have trash, but refused to fix your broken heater. In New York.
You havenât had freezing fingers in a year. Because now, you could afford gloves. And in the harsh cold of reality, no dick is worth more than a nice pair of gloves.
Buckyâs might be. Bucky and his smile and low laugh and nobleness and silent kindness and-
No.
Nothingâs worth it. Not when Bucky wouldnât even want you anyway.
Youâd rather have the gloves.
âYou get a plus one to this event, you know?â
You look at Steve over the desk, frowning slightly. âHuh?â
Steveâs lips twitch. âYou get a plus one.â
âOkay?â
âWasnât sure you knew.â He shrugs. Your frown deepens.
âOf course I knew. I send out all the invitations.â
âHm.â
âWhatâs hm? What does hm mean?â
âJust hm. Do you have the numbers, about-â
âTheyâre in front of you, Steven.â You narrow your eyes. âWhatâs hm mean.â
âTold you, nothing-â
âWhat.â
Sam says that there are only three people Steve is afraid of. Natasha, Buckyâs mother, and you. At the time, youâd laughed it off and rolled your eyes.
With how his throat bobs and he avoids your gaze, youâre starting to think that last part might be true.
âYouâve just always had that plus one offered.â Steve mutters, looking at the reports like theyâve suddenly turned into something interesting. âNoticed you never used it. Wanted to, uh- Make sure you knew.â
âI knew.â You snap, and Steve sighs.
âYeah, I thought you did.â
âThen whyâd you ask-â
âYou wanna get lunch?â Steveâs voice raises, and the conversation is clearly over. âI think I could go for some sushi, or- Mexican. Maybe acai?â
Those are three very different things, and it is your job to figure out which one he really wants. But you canât stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.
You have never used your plus one. Youâve never needed to.
Thereâs never been anyone worth using it on, except for one, dumb, handsome man who already has his own invitation to every event, and never has a problem finding his own date. Youâve spent dozens of nights lingering at Steveâs sideâbecause he can tell you all he wants to enjoy yourself, youâll slack when youâre deadâand glaring daggers at the model hanging off of Buckyâs arm. Giggling at everything he says and trying to drift closer than the polite, respectable distance he keeps them at.
He lets you sit closer to him than he lets them. And they are all a little younger, so maybe he wouldnât mind that youâre not experienced and-
You stamp those thoughts under your heel. Not worth it.
But is Steveâs noticed how you never bring anyone, maybe heâs noticed how you stare at Bucky as well. And if heâs noticed that, he might start looking closer. And if he looks closer, heâs going to realize that youâre in love with his best friend, and heâs going to tell Bucky, and youâre going to get fired, and lose your cool apartment and fuck, you arenât emotionally prepared to be a prostitute-
You need a date.
Itâs the safest, most logical conclusion. You study Steve across the room, and quickly decide against asking to be set up. That might get back to Bucky, and you donât want him to know for reason that defy common sense. You canât ask anyone at work, but all your friends are your co-workers. You could go out to a bar, but that sounds dangerous and exhausting, and youâre not even sure where youâd find the time.
Which leaves one option.
Dating apps.
There are millions of them. You know from college friends and social media that there are about five worth having. You download all of them, and spend the rest of your lunch setting up your profile. Youâre by no means ugly, and youâve got plenty of pictures in exciting locations thanks to Steve being unable to get through any work event without you there. You put down that youâre not sure what youâre looking for, because youâre really not. You lie about your job, because when you tell people youâre Steve Rogerâs personal assistant, they usually get weird. You settle just secretary, even though Steve and Natasha would shout at you if they saw.
They wonât see. None of them will see.
And youâll get a nice, boring date to the next event, and everything is going to be fine.
âYou never tell me about your family.â
Buckyâs words are so low you almost donât hear them. You look up at him in surprise, and hope the dim lighting hides your flush.
âYou never ask.â
His lips twitch down. âIâve told you about my family.â
âSo?â
âUsually.â He mutters, glaring at his papers like the did something to personally offend him. âWhen you tell someone about yourself, itâs an⊠Exchange of information.â
âAn exchange of information?â You snort. âIs that a CIA thing?â
âNot everything I do is a CIA thing.â
âEverything Natasha does is a CIA thing. And you were in the CIA together.â
âNat was better at it than I was.â He grumbles. His brow does a tight-knit wrinkle thing, when heâs frustrated. For a grown man, itâs always rather adorable. âIâd like to know about your family.â
âIâŠâ You blink at him, your brain turning fuzzy and useless.
Heâs staring at you. Saying those words like they matter, and you can barely understand them at all.
âWhy?â
âBecause. Weâve worked together a while. I know⊠A lot about you.â He takes a deep breath through his nose, giving you a strange look. âYou know about me.â
âUh huh. Thatâs usually how being friends works.â
Bucky sighs. âYeah, well. Youâve met my mother. She adores you.â
âShe doesnât adore me-â
âShe adores you.â
He says it like itâs really not up for debate. You flush. âOh- Okay.â
âEveryone you meet adores you.â Bucky grumbles, like that complete lie of a statement infuriates him. âAnd I tell you everything about me.â
You donât think thatâs true either. You know a lot about Bucky, but not everything. Steve says Buckyâs just like thatânot big on sharingâso you hoard every bit of information he offers you like a dragon with gold, but itâs far from everything. âBu- James-â
âBucky.â He corrects, and you sigh.
Heâs not making that part easy, either.
âBucky.â You say, smooth and careful. âYou know everything about me that Steve knows. I- I can tell you more. But Iâm not all that interesting.â
âI disagree.â He mutters. âYouâre impossibly interesting.â
You can only hum, pressing your thighs together as he just keeps staring at you. He shouldnât be allowed to do that. It makes your brain slow down and all your thoughts turn honeyed and gooey. His hands are right in your eyeline, and heâs got those big, deft fingers that youâve imagined tracing over your hips and lips, and heâs giving you compliments. Compliments like theyâre just breathing, like he doesnât even have to think about them because you could be all he sees.
âWhat do you want to know?â You mumble, desperate to move the conversation away from this. If you offer yourself too much of his attention, itâs going to drag you under like quicksand.
âWhatâs your favorite kind of flower?â
âMy favorite flower-â
Bucky grunts, nodding tightly. You take a deep, slow breath, careful not to look him in the eyes.
âI donât know. Iâve never really thought about it.â
Bucky grunts. âWell, what kinda flowers have people gotten you before.â
âI- Iâve never been given flowers.â
âYouâve never-â Bucky cuts himself off, and you risk a glance up to see him scowling. âEver?â
You can hear the what about that he wonât say. What about a boyfriend.
If heâs not brave enough to ask itâalthough you donât understand why heâd careâyou donât have to be brave enough to answer it.
âNo. Never ever.â You mumble, and you might dissolve into a mist of humid humiliation and confusing arousal.
You have Buckyâs attention, and you both wish heâd take it back and never want him to stop pushing. Youâve never had someone poke at you this much. It makes your core ache, and youâd rally rather not explore what that means right now.
âYou need to sign these.â You shove some papers across the desk, staring at Buckyâs hands again.
Theyâre curled in fists. Youâd like them inside you-
You mentally slap yourself, and force a smile onto your face, nodding to the papers. âSteve told me not to let you go home, until you did.â
Bucky chuckles at that, though thereâs still a strange look in his eyes. âNot let me go home, huh.â
âYes, sir.â You drawl.
Buckyâs knuckles go white. You could swear his voice gets lower.
âAnd how would you stop me from gettinâ home, kid?â
âWith lots of talent.â You shrug, giving him a tiny smile. âAnd my body.â
Bucky coughs, and the desk jerks suddenly. His knee mustâve slammed against it. You shoot to your feet, ready to check on him, but he waves you quickly back down.
âFine. Iâm fine.â He scowls, scooting forward in his chair. âPapers.â
He makes a beckoning gesture, and you just stare at him.
âJames, are you-â
âBucky.â He grunts. âPapers, sweetheart.â
You nod stupidly, shoving the papers into his hands. Youâre not sure whatâs happening. Your thoughts are all still made of candy-clouds and goo, so you donât want to overthink it.
Itâs only when you get home, that you realize what he called you. I
Sweetheart.
You canât blame him. He canât know what that does to you.
You really need to find that date.
It happens in the middle of work. The worst possible place for it to happen.
Steveâs on a conference call, and youâre lying on his couch, swiping through dating apps. Youâre only there in case he forgets something, and you donât have to pay much attention for that. The voices of old, annoying men drone on and on and on in the background, and you have everything memorized so well that when Steve calls your name, you answer without even realty paying attention to what youâre saying.
The call is three hours for no good reason at all. You get bored.
Hence, the dating apps.
Itâs almost as mindless as the call itself. All in all, the experience is turning out to be more of a fun game than an actual method to find a date. The next gala is creeping up, though. You refuse to give up.
But youâre also picky. And you keep comparing every profile you see to Bucky, which is deeply counterproductive.
Michael is handsome, and the exact same height as Bucky, but heâs built with corded muscle instead of the softer, thicker strength youâve seen straining through Buckyâs suit. Henry has a picture of himself with kidsâhis sisterâs, according to the captionâbut you look at it and just think of when Bucky and Steve went to the childrenâs hospital, and Bucky had become such a soft and approachable person youâd been worried youâd get pregnant watching him.
Leon has nice eyes, but theyâre not as pretty as Buckyâs. Cal is in the military, but heâs beaming about it in a way that makes you think he joined so he could run around with a big gun, while Bucky joined because his family needed the healthcare. Jake has a sweet smile, but it doesnât make you feel bubbly like Buckyâs. Asher and Kyle both have high paying jobsâall their photos showing them driving Maseratiâs and drinking expensive whiskeyâbut one of the things youâve always loved about Bucky is how he doesnât brag. His suits are less expensive and more well-tailored. His watch costs $150âhe always grumbles that he just needs it to tell timeâand he drives a motorcycle that Sam says he built from scratch.
You squint at Damienâs profile, and heâs got a motorcycle too. His caption says that he built it himself, and you donât know anything about motorcycles, but you doubt he built it as well as Bucky did.
You swipe left with a sigh, and go onto the next profile.
James. 41. Business Manager. You give the picture a quick glanceâbeefy, shirtless chest that makes you drool a little, only the sharp, bearded jawline of the owner visible in the photoâand squint at the bio. Wealthy bachelor looking for his Queen.
You snort, and scroll lazily down. Jamesâ Interests include music, cars, technology, dancing, family. No kids, but wants them. Looking for casual funâyou canât be causal, or have fun, but itâs always nice to pretendâlocated thirty feet away, pet cat, smokes and drinks socially-
Located thirty feet away.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
You sit up suddenly, rapidly scrolling back up to the photos and main bio. James, 41, Business Manager. Â Â
Fucking- Fuck-
You click frantically through the photos, somehow burning alive and freezing to your bones all at once. Jamesâ next photo doesnât show his face either, instead displaying a fluffy white cat on his bare chest. You know that cat. Youâve fed and pet her, paying her more attention than Bucky himself whenever he brings her to the office. Alpine adores you. You have more photos of her on your phone than you do of yourself.
Next photo.
Bucky drinking at that Italian place he, Steve, and Sam always go to for celebrations. In the background, you can see Natasha flirting with the bartender. You remember that night. Sheâd taken him home, and youâd heard far too many details about how hot and submissive he was in the morning. Youâd been happy for her, and sick with jealousy. Youâd spent all of that night standing next to her, trying not to stare at Bucky while he and Steve drank.
Which means-
You pinch in on the photo, feeling a little sick when you find it. Shrouded enough in the background that you can only see it if you look, but you can definitely fucking see it.
Your lovelorn, sad expression as you stare at Bucky like heâs made of stars.
Heâs seen this photo. Everyone whoâs been on his dating profile has seen this photo.
You feel sick. You unpinch the photo, ready to maybe just fall back into the couch cushions and have them swallow you whole, and then it fucking happens.
Your thumb drifts a little to the right.
You swipe yes on Buckyâs profile.
And a little heart graphic overtakes your screen, the bolded words Itâs a Match! Shoved into your face.
You scream, and throw your phone across the room.
Steve looks at you like youâre insane. You feel insane.
âAre you-â
âI need to go to the bathroom!â You shout, and Steve opens his mouth, but youâre already running.
You have to pass Buckyâs officeâright next to Steveâsâto get to the bathroom. You pause to stare at him, unable to form any coherent thoughts but fuck and Bucky.
Heâs on his phone. Reading something with a knit brow. You might actually be about to throw up.
Like he can sense you, he looks up.
Your eyes meet.
And you run away, as fast as you fucking can.
Steve is a lovely boss. When you tell him you need a week off for vague personal reasons, but that you can still work remotely, he tells you not to bother and just take the time without work.
âBut- I can help-â
âI know. Iâm telling you not to.â He gives you a small smile. âYouâve earned the break.â
âSteve-â
âYouâre allowed to just rest,â he says your name kindly, and you shake your head. No. Youâre not.
âPlease give me something to do.â You plead, and Steve sighs.
âKid, you donât have to prove something-â
âPlease.â If you donât have anything, youâre just going to stare at your match with Bucky the whole time. And thatâs a harrowing, deadly prospect of a way to spend your week.
Steve sighs, and gives in. You get a bunch of emails to send, and theyâre just enough to distract you.
Barely.
Sometimes, you still manage to falter, and open up the app. Stare at the you matched with James three days ago! Banner at the top of the screen. Maybe he hasnât seen it at all, and youâre hiding for no reason. He could be someone who never even checks who he matches with unless they message first, because he just gets so many matches. Jealousy stabs through your heart, sour and sharp, and you sigh.
Itâs your best hope. That heâll just never know.
But he matched with you, too.
He could just swipe right on every girl he sees. Thatâs a thing you hear men do.
Buckyâs not the type to do that.
Heâs also not the type to be looking for his Queen. Maybe you donât know him as well as you thought you did.
But youâre pretty sure you do.
This is making your head hurt.
Your real best bet is that someoneâs been catfishing as James Barnes, but thereâs no real hope of that with the bar photo. Youâre going to have to quit your job and change your name. Maybe Steve can reference you to another similar job if you apologize enough. Maybe you can move to Alaska and learn how to be a fisherwoman. Youâre not very patient. And youâre not going to be able to afford your nice gloves anymore. Maybe you should just die. The best option might just be dying-
Your phone buzzes.
Message from James.
You throw your phone again. He knows.
Death is looking lovely right now.
Your days off turn into a week off. Steve checks on you, but doesnât push you to come back. If anything, heâs still trying to convince you to just take a real vacation.
âItâs going to help more than⊠What youâre doing right now.â He stands in the middle of your apartment, gesturing at your ice cream and the mess of clothing on the floor.
âThis is helping plenty.â You mutter. Steve sighs.
âLook, Iâm really not mad about you taking the time. I know you. You wouldnât take it if you didnât need it.â
âBut?â You give him a pointed look, and his jaw ticks.
âBut I wish youâd tell me what was goinâ on.â He says, sounding more sad than annoyed. âSo I could help.â
You give him a tight smile. âSteve-â
âAnything you need. If I canât get it, Iâm sure Bucky or Nat could-â
âSteve.â You donât want to hear about how Bucky can help you. Not when he knows perfectly well why youâve gone into hiding. âI- I really donât want to talk about it.â
Steve frowns, but lets it go. In the Steve way, where he keeps asking every time he visits, but always takes the no in stride.
âCan you at least tell me what I should be saying to everyone else?â He asks after a week. âPeople are noticing Iâm missing my brain.â
You laugh softly. âIâm sick.â
âBut youâre not.â
Not visibly. Your heart feels sick. Buckyâs sent you two more messages on the app, one into your personal number, and none on Teams, and youâve read none of them. You donât want to hear his gentle rejection, because itâs going to crush you into fine, little pieces.
âWeâre worried about you.â Steve says. âAnd again, no rush to come back, but I donât know how to work my own schedule and Buckyâs started pacing whenever I try to do your job, so-â
âBuckyâs pacing?â You blurt, and Steve blinks.
âYeah? Think he misses you, too.â
You swallow, and glance at your phone. The unread messages.
Bucky only paces when he feels like something is wrong. Really wrong.
And you donât want to know. That heâs been thinking about. That heâs been pacing. Because it all ends the same anyway.
âIâll be back soon.â You mumble, flipping your phone face down. You donât want to know. âJust- A few more days.â
Steve looks at you like he doesnât believe you. You donât believe you.
But youâre a big girl. You can survive a little rejection, and it doesnât have to be anything at all.
Youâre going to keep going, and this wonât have to have been anything at all.
Nobody asks, when you get back to the office. Nat and Sam check in that youâre okay, and Steve lets you pick lunch three days in a rowâand you think heâs blaming himself for everything, which at least tells you that Bucky hasnât snitched about anythingâbut the only thing waiting for you is a phone full of voicemails and a crowded calendar.
And Bucky.
Bucky, who almost acts like nothing even happened at all.
Almost.
Heâs staring more than he used to, and heâd always stared quite a lot. When youâre left alone in a room together, he stares until you look up at him, before immediately coughing and looking back to his own papers. He lingers outside of Steveâs office until you ask if he needs to talk, and he shakes his head and runs off like a teenager caught trying to buy drinks. Nat shouts at him after two meetings where he wasnât paying attention, and he mutters that he was distracted.
âWhat?! What could you possibly have been so distracted by that you missed every cue Sam gave you, five times in a row?â
He just shrugs, and you can feel his gaze burning straight into your heart. You bow your head, and pretend you donât see it.
You still havenât looked at the messages. Youâre not going to. And he hasnât brought it up, so itâs like nothing ever happened.
Like nothing ever happened.
But it happened. The world ended, but it also just kept spinning, and now youâre suspended in a world where Bucky doesnât even treat you like a friend anymore.
Steve notices. Of course he does. Asshole.
âDid something happen?â He asks softly. âDid Bucky⊠Say something to you?â
You look up with wide eyes, mouth going dry. âWha- What? No, Bucky- James and I, itâs fine.â You laugh, high and nervous. âEverythingâs fine.â
Steve hums, and he doesnât believe you. You can see it, shining in his eyes. âYou know⊠Iâve known Bucky a long time.â
âI know. Iâve read the about page.â
He laughs, shaking his head. âNo. I mean, yes, but-â He sighs. âBuckyâs not good at⊠Talking. When something matters to him, he shows it.â
âOkay.â Heâs shown you nothing but silence and stares.
âAnd he, um- Heâs a good guy-â
âIâm aware.â
âI know you are, but-â Steve sighs, slumping in his chair. âJust, if Bucky ever says something to you, or asks you to do something, and you donât want to, donât. Iâd rather you piss him off then feel pressured. Not that heâd pressure you,â he adds quickly. âBut if thereâs ever⊠Anything. And Iâve been wrong about⊠Stuff. Just know youâre as valuable as he is.â
Heâs speaking in riddles. This has been a long few weeks. âOkay.â
âOkay.â Steve nods, taking in a deep breath. âAnd is there⊠Anything you want to tell me? As my friend?â
Itâs a mean card to play. You almost want to. Steveâs kind, and he gives good advice, and you believe him. You know that if you confessed your silent, raging love for Bucky, Steve would just support you.
But you donât need someone to support you right now. You need someone to smack you in the face and tell you to stop being a baby about your crush not liking you back.
âNo.â You give him a strained smile, and it hurts on your face. âWhy, is there something you need to tell me?â
Steve stares at you for a moment, then slowly shakes his head. âNo. Just⊠You were missed.â
Thereâs a long moment of silence, and Steve clears his throat.
âBy everyone.â
You nod, useless tears stinging at your eyes, and look back to your work.
Later that day, Bucky goes into Steveâs office and they talk for two hours. You want to eavesdrop, but that would be a new, pathetic low.
You stare at Buckyâs head through the glass, and chew on a pencil until it snaps in half.
When Bucky leaves the office, he stops in front of your desk and lingers. You can feel the heat from his body, and youâd like to fall into it. He clears his throat, and you look up like heâd grabbed your chin and demanded it.
His eyes are shining on yours, and youâve never seen his jaw clenched so tight. As if heâs disgusted, just from the sight of you.
âYou look nice.â He rasps, and you canât tell if youâre glowing or burning out.
âThank you.â
He nods, looking up to the ceiling, then back to you. âWe all missed you.â
âIâve been told-â
âI missed you.â He says those words firmer. They sink into your core, molten and demanding, so overwhelming youâre not even sure what to do with yourself.
Youâve been staring at him too long. Words are failing you, thoughts are failing you, and-
âI, uh- Iâll leave you to it-â
âYou too.â You breathe out, and Bucky stumbles back like you hit him. âI- I missed you too.â
He blinks. His nostrils flare, and he gapes at you with a red face. For a second, you donât see the calm, collected man you know and adore so well. You see something closer to a teenage boy, fumbling and gaping and unsure what to do with his own strength.
You like him, just as much as you like the rest of Bucky. Love it.
Endlessly and uselessly love it.
Bucky turns on his heels, and almost runs back to his office. Your nails dig into your palms, and you force your attention back to your work.
It will pass. All of this, like every storm, is going to have to pass.
You get a night off. Steve has a date, and itâs the one part of his life you have and want nothing to do with. You were going to use the evening to catch up on more voicemails, until Sam shooed you out of the building like a bird. Go rest, woman.
You are resting.
By catching up on emails.
Thereâs a knock on your door, long after anyone should be out doing anything. You donât move from the couch at first, because you think itâs a mistake.
Then the knock repeats. Louder than the first time. And someone shouts your name, muffled through the door.
Not a mistake.
Bucky. Thatâs Buckyâs voice.
You fall, trying to get up. Your knees feel like jelly, and you havenât even seen him yet, but heâs already doing that thing where his attention makes you feel like youâre made of electric static. Sensitive and empty-headed in the best and worst way. You can barely stand it. You canât really stand at all.
When you finallyâsomehowâmake it to the door, Buckyâs standing on the other side like heâs awaiting inspection. Tall and silent, shoulders squared and arms behind his back, looking at you like youâre holding his life in your hands.
You stare at him. He stares back, and you can measure your every breath in heartbeats. Louder and louder in your ears.
âHi.â You finally say, shifting on your feet, and his throat bobs.
âHey.â
âWhatâre you-â
âI wanted to check on you.â He blurts, and you freeze. âAnd- Talk.â
You ignore that last part. Itâs the last thing you want to do. âIâm fine.â
Buckyâs pretty lips tug down. âYou took two weeks off.â He mutters. âYou donât even take sick days.â
You swallow. âI- I was trying to take care of myself-â
âBy working the whole time?â He looks past you again, and you follow his gaze.
Right to your laptop, open on an email draft.
âYouâre supposed to be takinâ tonight off too.â He says, a little scolding, and you stiffen.
âYouâre not my boss.â
Bucky chuckles. Low and deep, shivering up your spine. âTrust me, doll. Iâm fully aware of that.â
Oh. That does something nice to your core. You think you might be getting a fever.
âJamesâŠâ
âBucky.â He grunts, and you take an unsteady breath. Staring at his chest seems to be the most effective way to speak to him.
âBucky, I- Iâm fine, really-â
âI brought you flowers.â He says suddenly, and his hands shoot out from behind his back.
Heâs holding out a large bouquet of roses and lilies, each in about three different colors. Itâs a stark contrast to his black suit and neatly pressed white shirt, petals spilling and little bits of yellow pollen clinging to the stems. To the cuffs of his sleeves.
Bucky clears his throat, pushing the flowers a little further forward. You take them with shaking hands, a little worried theyâll dissolve the moment you touch them. They donât. And Bucky clears his throat.
âI, uh- I gave you options, and-â He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. âCan I come in? Please?â
You canât think of a good reason to say no. You donât even think youâd get out the words, if you tried. So you nod, and step to the side.
And now Buckyâs in your apartment. Looking around at your things and licking his lips, nodding slowly. He fits into it, like a puzzle piece being slowly slotted in, and-
No.
You canât think like that. Itâs not going to help anyone, not by far.
He brought you flowers.
To apologize for breaking your heart.
Bucky looks back to you, bracing his hands on his hips. You swallow, hugging yourself tight, and neither of you dare to move. Bucky takes a ragged breath, looks to the side, and back to you with the strangest, most anguished expression youâve ever seen on his handsome face.
âTell me if Iâm steppinâ over the line.â He starts, urgent and pleading. âYou gotta tell me if Iâm steppinâ over the line.â
âBucky-â
âWe both know why Iâm here.â He takes a step forward. You take a step back.
Bucky freezes, and you take a shaking breath, staring at his shoes.
âI- Iâm sorry.â You mumble. âI didnât mean to-â
âYou didnât?â Bucky cuts you off, and you glance up to see him frowning. âAt all?â
You blink. âNo, I- I donât know.â
âYou donât know if you meant it?â
You nod, and Buckyâs jaw works tight.
âCould you?â
âWhat?â
âCould you mean it?â He rasps, and your mouth falls uselessly open.
âJa- Â Bucky.â You shake your head, stepping further back. If this is a trick, youâre too fragile to fall for it. âI- I donât know.â
âWhy not?â He takes a step forward, your eyes trapped together. âIs it me?â
âIs it you?â
âYeah, I- I mean- You donât really date.â He clears his throat. âAnd Stevieâs never told me why, âcause- Iâm not your boss, but Iâm not not your boss- âs what Sam says-â
Youâve never heard him ramble. Never heard him speak like heâs not sure of the next work. Itâs just as endearing as the display at the desk, but youâre even less sure what to do with it. âBucky-â
âIf itâs just me that youâre not- Thatâs the reason.â Heâs standing over you now. Bowing his head. âThen thatâs fine. Iâm not gonna be an ass about it. ButâŠâ His shoulders slump. âIf itâs not that. Then I- Iâd like toâŠâ
He trails off, giving you a hopeful look.
But youâre lost. Nothing heâs saying is making sense, and youâre almost being dragged under by the current of his words.
âWhat?â You repeat, more pleading than before. Bucky sighs.
âYou never answered my messages.â He mutters. âFigured Iâd need to ask in person. Needed to hear it.â He clears his throat, lips twitching. âEven if itâs a no.â
âEvenâŠâ You frown. âEven if whatâs a no?â
His head shoots up, and his frown deepens. âIâm⊠Asking you out. On a date?â
Oh.
What.
Your surprise must be written all over your face, because Bucky looks bewildered. He can join the club. Â
You just keep staring at him stupidly, and he says your name, slow and measured.
âYou read my messages, right?â
You shake your head, and he groans.
âI- Iâm sorry-â
âNo, itâs- Itâs my fault.â He mutters. âNat told me you were oblivious-â
You cut him off indignantly. âI am not oblivious-â
âWe matched on a dating app.â He drawls, lips twitching slightly. âAnd youâre shocked Iâm askinâ you out.â
You scowl, hugging yourself tighter. âI thought you made a mistake.â You grumble, and Bucky chuckles.
He takes another step forward. Close enough that you can smell him, smell his cologne and aftershave and something deeper thatâs just Bucky. You step back more out of fear that you were about to fall forward.
Bucky follows you.
Suddenly your pinned against your counters, Buckyâs arms braced on either side of your body. You swallow. Buckyâs tongue darts over his lips, and you think you did drown in his everything. Youâve been swept out to sea, and thereâs no hope of being dragged out to shore.
And with how Buckyâs looking at you, youâre not sure youâd ever ask to be saved.
âYou.â Bucky reaches up, brushing hair out of your eyes with a small smile. âAre not a mistake. And if someoneâs been tellinâ you that you are.â He leans down, until your lips are almost brushing. âTheyâre damn lucky youâre lettinâ them make it.â
Dear God. Youâre not strong enough for this.
âJamesâŠâ You breathe out, and his brows knit. âBucky. Donât.â
He tenses around you. âDonât?â
âDonât.â You whisper, eyes dropping to his lips. They look so soft. âDonât do this.â
Bucky leans a little back, but doesnât pull fully away. âWhy not? I told you, if itâs not âcause of me, we can work it out-â
âBucky-â
âIâll quit.â He says suddenly, and you gape.
âYouâre the boss, you canât quit-â
âThere are like, four bosses.â Bucky waves you off. âFive if weâre countinâ you, which I am, and you do twice the fuckinâ work. Iâll just quit, and you can have my job, and we can-â
âBucky.â You grab his shirt, and he falls silent immediately. âJust- Stop. You canât quit, you shouldnât-â You take a deep breath, trying to focus on speaking instead of crying.
Bucky says your name softly, and big hands thread through your hair as you start to sniffle. Itâs so pathetic, but youâre tired and overwhelmed and you canât take him doing this to you twice. Youâre not the kind of girl Bucky Barnes is going to want. Not for real. Not for long. And you canât handle him pretending you are.
âItâs not nice.â You whimper, even as he tugs you into his chest.
Pressing your face into his chest is just as amazing as youâd always imagined. You wish you werenât crying when it finally happened.
âWhatâs not nice.â Bucky prompts gently, and you swallow.
âYou.â
âMe?â
You nod, wrapping your arms around his torso. Bucky pets the back of your head, words low and cautious.
âWhat about me isnât nice?â
You shake your head, hugging him tighter. You canât stop. Itâs like a reflex. âYou canât- You canât say that stuff. âS mean.â
âMe tellinâ you Iâd quit for you is mean?â
âYou donât mean it.â
Bucky tenses. âI do mean it-â
âNo, itâs not- Iâm not-â You swallow, breathing him in. âI donât just wanna beâŠâ
You trail off. Bucky prompts you softly. âBe what?â
âBe fun.â You mumble. âI canât do fun, you know than, and- And if youâre not serious, then-â
âIâm dead serious.â Bucky grunts, and you swallow.
âJames-â
âNo. Listen to me.â He picks you up without a warning, sitting you on the counter so youâre at his eye level. You grab his shoulders, and he keeps his hands planted on your hips, almost holding you under his words.
Forcing you to hear them, as he watches you like youâre the most important thing in the world.
âI am serious about this. About you.â He grabs one of your hands, holding it between your bodies. âI have wanted you since I met you. Donât look at me like that,â he squeezes your hand when you give him a doubtful frown. âI have. You are beautiful and smart and bossy, and Iâve been obsessed with you so much, Natâs slapped me about it twice.â
You swallow, closing your eyes tight. You canât look at him right now. âYour profile said looking for casual.â You mutter, and Bucky snorts.
âLast year, Sam made that thing for me. âCause I was obsessed with Stevieâs new PA, and I needed to get under someone to get over it.â
âHm.â You peek at him. He looks sincere. âDid you?â
âI got under many someoneâs.â He shrugs. âDidnât have Samâs intended effect. Think I just wanted you more, after every time.â
You swallow. That does explain a lot about the profile, in hindsight. Those were all very Sam things to say.
âI want you.â Bucky murmurs, pressing a little closer. Your noses are bumping, and heâs still not looking away. âYouâre in my dreams, and days without you are nightmares. Just- One shot. Itâs all I need. Please.â
And God, you want to give it to him. More than anything. You want to tell him that he doesnât even need his shot, he hit a bullseye a year ago and youâve just been waiting for him to realize it since.
But-
âIâm a virgin.â You blurt, and Bucky blinks.
âOkay-â
âI canât do what others can. For you. And I- I donât know how anything works- Well, I know how sex works, I got an A in health class, but everyone got an A in health, but I got an A and paid attention, and-â Youâre rambling. âI just donât know how dating works, or- Or relationships, and Iâm not- Youâre very- You.â
You gesture over his everything, and Buckyâs lips twitch.
âThat a problem, doll?â
âNo. God, no. Youâre perfect, Iâm just- Not? And thatâs not really fair to you-â
Bucky grabs your face, and your cut off in a kiss.
Youâve seen kissing in the movies and on TV. Read about it a million times. Itâs always all sweet and romantic, with swelling music and breeze and passion.
And nothing has done it justice at all.
Kissing Bucky is awkward for a secondâhis lips slotted over yours, your whole body frozen as it shuts down, then rebootsâand then itâs like breathing. Your hands fly back to his shoulders, your legs spread so you can lean further forwards, and your lips move without a thought. Pressing against Buckyâs, moving in a dance he seems more than happy to lead, chasing at the slight chance that you could have just a little more.
One of Buckyâs hands finds this back of your head, and the other grabs your waist. Dragging you further forward until your chests are pressed tight, massaging the softness there in rhythm with his lips. You sigh, breathy and content, and Bucky presses further down. Heâs all you can feel, muscle under your hands and love pounding in your heart. You nails scrape his neck, and he groans into the kiss.
The sound vibrates against your spread thighs. His hand on your waist flexes, fingers digging into the softness, and you gasp.
Bucky pulls back too fast, and you follow. Tugging him back, unwilling to let him go just yet. He follows for a second, tongue tracing over your lower lip, then yanks himself back.
His brow presses against yours, and you both breathe raggedly.
âI like you.â Bucky almost growls. His thumb presses over your swollen lips, palm cupping your cheek, and you melt further into him than you already were.
âBucky-â
âYouâre what I want.â He leans forward, demanding and pleading all at once. âYour body.â He pushes his hand under your shirt, rough fingers dragging against sensitive skin. âIs a bonus.â
You shiver, whimpering softly. You feel pliant. Dizzy, in a way that no flirting or video has ever rendered you before. You think Bucky mightâve sucked your soul out with that kiss. Youâd like him to do it again.
But when you try to lean up, Bucky pushes you gently back down. You whine, and his lips twitch.
âYou like me too.â He mutters, watching you like heâs somehow still unsure.
âMhm.â You say, and he stands a little taller.
âHow long-â
âThe same.â
âOh.â He grins. âGood. Thatâs- Good-â
You slam back up, kissing him with an open mouth and sloppy need. Bucky responds immediately, and heat is starting to build between your thighs. Itâs not just going to go away with a little touching and petting. Itâs almost painful. You need him.
Bucky pulls away again. Youâre going to punch him.
âJesus.â He mutters, staring down at your desperate expression. âYou gotta slow down, baby-â
âDonât want to.â You breathe, pulling at his shirt. âWant you, Bucky. Want you now.â
His throat bobs, eyes darkening, but he remains composed. âYou⊠Youâre a virgin-â
âThen show me.â
Bucky says your name, and now heâs the one begging. But youâre not letting him off this easy.
âShow me, Bucky.â You rest your chin on his chest, giving him your best pout.
He grabs your face between big hands, chest heaving as he stares at you. You offer a sweet smile, and his nostrils flare.
âPlease.â You whisper. âAnything. I just want to feel you.â
âFeel me.â He echoes, like he canât believe it. âYou wanna feel me?â
You nod, and he presses his brow over yours his, his eyes squeezed shut.
âAnd you want me to show you.â He rasps. âAll the different ways I can make you feel good.â
You nod frantically, almost clawing at his shirt. Buckyâs eyes shoot open.
âYeah?â He grunts, and you whine.
âYeah. Yes. Please-â
He grabs your jaw, grip hard and unyielding, folds over you like heâs trying to fuse your bodies together. His lips move, harsh and hungry, and his hand on your hip starts to knead the skin like heâs trying to leave a mark.
âWanted this for so long.â He grunts, dragging his hand down to squeeze your ass. âWanted you. So fuckinâ bad.â
You moan into his mouth, and Bucky sucks on your lower lip. You canât have enough of him. Heâs warm and leaves little fires everywhere he touches. Youâd like them to sweep through you, overtake you and send you higher.
âSo gorgeous.â Buckyâs hand moves lower, resting on your upper thigh. âThought about you all the time, hated beinâ in a room and not getting to touch you, was so sure I was going to lose my damn mind not havinâ you be mine.â
âI- I wanted you too.â You breathe out, almost delirious from his kisses. âAlways wanted it to be you, never- Oh-â
You lose your ability to speak for a second, when Bucky starts to kiss under your ear. Your body goes pliant and soft, and his growl against your skin sends a shiver up your spine. Heâs holding the back of your neck now, guiding it to offer himself better access. You tug on his hair and he moans. It makes your knees wobbly.
âNever anyone else,â you breathe, and he seems to like that. The massive hand on your thigh shifts slightly, so Buckyâs thick fingers are grazing your core through your clothing.
Itâs a perfect pressure where youâd been craving any of his attention, and itâs a promise of more later. Your legs give out, eyes fluttering as your brain short circuits with arousal.
Bucky picks you up like you weigh nothing. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as he sits you on the counter, back arching as he captures your mouth in another kiss. Â
âNo one else.â He mutters, hand on your neck slowly, possessively moving down your spine. âNever gonna be anyone else, doll. Not for you,â he nips at your jaw, hand on your thigh teasing the sensitivity under your shirt. âSure as shit not for me. Been no one else since I started thinkinâ of you.â
Your breath hitches, and you lean back with wide eyes. âBucky, you donât have to-â
âIâm not lying.â He says firmly, dropping his brow against yours. You try to lean back, but he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes back together.
You blink at him hopelessly, grabbing at the collar of his shirt like youâre looking for balance. Bucky gives you a tiny smile, pressing his lips sweetly over yours. Another, softer promise.
âNo one,â he murmurs. âWas ever gonna live up to you. First few months Iâd fuck a girl and feel sick the next day. Like Iâd done you wrong.â
âYou- You didnât-â
âYeah, I did. We coulda been doinâ this a lot sooner.â
You flush, looking down to where your bodies are pressed so tight together. Buckyâs dress shirt and hidden muscle, both hard and gentle all at once. Your sleeping clothes and bare feet, swinging off the counter. You lean a little further into him, suddenly feeling rather small.
âWhat if Iâm notâŠâ You take a deep breath, frowning at the floor. âWhat if I donât-â
Bucky says your name, concerned and caring, and you shake your head.
âWhat if Iâm not the fantasy, Bucky.â You look back up with your best pleading eyes. âWhat if that- That idea of me isnât worth what you thought?â
His brows knit tight, and you try to shirk away as he studies you. You canât tell if you like it or not, but you know you feel bare. And you both want him to look away, and never go where you canât reach him again.
Buckyâs lips twitch. He leans forward slowly, kissing each corner of your mouth before taking it fully under his. The kiss is hot and commanding, almost forcing your brain to slow back down. You dissolve into it, your thoughts a nice haze of Bucky. He guides your legs a little further apart, and takes both of your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them behind you.
âI love you,â he mutters. âI told you. And remember,â he pulls back with that lovely, secret smile. âIâm helpinâ you through it, right?â
You nod, and Bucky leans back forward, bumping your noses together.
âTrust me?â
âYes.â You breathe, and he grins.
âGood girl.â
Heat floods between your legs, and oh. You like that. Youâre shaking a little bit, you like it so much. Want it so much. Want Bucky.
Like heâs reading your mind, he rasps against your lips. âYou enjoyed other things before?â
You nod, unable to tell if thatâs another flush or just how turned on you are, and Bucky smirks.
âLike what?â He kisses your cheek, massaging your thighs. âTell me what you like, sweetheart. What you want.â
âI- I want to be under.â You whisper, and you think his hands might be magic. Pulling answers out of you that you wouldâve rather died with an hour ago. âWant you over me. Tell- Telling me what to do.â
Bucky hums, nosing at your neck. You close your eyes, forcing on.
âTell- Tell me how good Iâm doing. And- Other stuff.â
He leans back, and your core throbs at the shine in his eyes. Like heâs going to eat you alive. âOther stuff?â He rasps, and you nod weakly.
âIf you can- Can do that.â Itâs hard to focus, between his piercing gaze and the hand wandering between your legs. Teasing your inner thigh, until youâre voice is high and breathy. âDo that, and- and be-â
âBe a little mean?â He coos, thumb pressing over your aching button. You swallow, and nod.
âA little mean.â You echo, and Bucky grins.
âYes, maâam.â He kisses you again, slow and romantic, and you barely notice his hand moving away. âThink thatâs enough outta you for now.â
âWha- Bucky-â
He steps away. Without warning, Bucky just backs up, and you almost fall off the counter trying to chase him. He laughs, and pushing you back into place in a second, then moves away again. Where you canât follow.
âBucky, come back-â
âNope.â He grins, like he knows youâre already too lost to chase him. He probably does. Asshole. âYou want me to show you?â
You scowl. âJames-â
âCall me whatever you want, baby. You ainât gonna be able to talk at the end, anyway.â He braces his hands on his hips, raising a brow. âWant me to show you.â
He wonât come back until you answer, so you just nod, crossing your arms like a scolded child. Bucky grins, and youâre hoping for another good girl and kiss, but he doesnât even lean closer.
âAlright.â He stands a little taller. âStrip.â
You blink at him. âWhat?â
âStrip.â
âLike, completely?â
âHm.â He pauses, raking over your body in a way that really shouldnât make you feel more turned on. âYep. All of this, off.â
He waves to your body, and gives you a silent, challenging look. Like heâs expecting you to go back, and ask for that date first.
But at this point, youâre going to explode if he doesnât make you cum. And youâve never backed down from him before. You have no interest in starting now.
Slowly, you peel off your sweater. Your shirt. The cold air hits your bare chest, and not wearing a bra was the right choice. Buckyâs looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, the evidence of your effect on him straining through his pants.
Your nipples are peaked, and you awkwardly palm at them the way youâve seen in porn. Bucky shifts on his feet, hand flexing like heâs trying not to reach for you, so you repeat the motion again.
âPants.â He grunts, and you smile sweetly.
âPlease?â
Bucky chuckles, like he canât believe you. âJesus, woman-â
âItâs polite-â
âIf you donât take your pants off.â He grunts, giving you a firm look. âIâm gonna rip off your pants and fuck you on this counter right now.â
You swallow. That doesnât sound all that bad, but-
Something foolish and lovesick inside of your chest demands that tonight be special. So you move on from your breast, but give Bucky a nervous smile.
âNext time?â
He softens slightly, and nods. âNext time. Pants.â
You smile, and he smiles back. But the expression quickly shifts back into desire, as you shuffle out of your pants. You take your underwear down in one motion as well, leaving you completely exposed. At Buckyâs mercy.
And heâs just watching you.
Watching you and rubbing his crotch, where an erection is demanding attention. The lewd sight makes you fuzzy in all the right places, your own legs spreading a little wider apart.
You need him so bad it hurts. Your fingers dip into your wet pussy, clumsily rubbing your clit, and Bucky groans.
Suddenly heâs back against you, staring at your hand between your legs and panting like a dog.
âLook at you.â He groans, dragging his gaze back up your naked body. âBetter than a dream.â
âThank you.â Your hips buck up against your own, suddenly flimsy and useless hand. Youâve touched yourself before. With Bucky all around you, itâs simply not enough. âBucky- You-You need to touch me-â
âI know.â He grunts, lips ghosting over yours. âNeed you to be ready, just-â
His throat bobs as he cuts himself off, his hand on his own hard dick suddenly pressing against your pussy. A spasm shoots through your body, and you almost fly off the counter.
Bucky presses further down, attaching his lips to your neck and collarbone. His tongue flicks against a pulse point as he spreads your pussy lips. Rubbing up and down while his thumb circles around your clit, working you up and up and up. Youâre panting in his ear, vulnerable and dazed, and Bucky hums against your skin.
âShirt.â He grunts. âGet my shirt off.â
You nod, and it should be a simple task. But Buckyâs relentless. He suckles on your neck, leaving possessive bruises on your skin all while working your pussy and drawling in your ear.
âI know exactly how I want you, pretty girl.â He mutters, flicking your clit with his thumb. âTold you Iâve been thinkinâ about it forever. âBout every single way Iâd take you if I got the chance. And Iâm gonna show you all of them,â he kisses over a bruise, teasing two fingers against your fluttering core. âBut tonight, weâre takinâ it easy.â
You whine, fumbling with just the top button of his shirt. âI- I donât want easy-â
âI know, baby.â He presses just the tip of his finger into your cunt, and you clench around him with a whine. âBut youâre so sensitive.â
If you had the power right now, youâd hit him for saying it like that. All mocking and syrupy. Making you try to fuck your hips down onto his fingers. But Bucky just pulls fully out, moving his attention back to your swollen clit.
âYou need to take care of the buttons.â He whispers, pushing down hard on the bundle of nerves. âThey need a little extra attention.â He rubs his thumb back and forth. âBefore we get goinâ.â
âFuck- Bucky-â You breathe, almost slumped against his chest. Your fingers are shaking, desperate to just hold onto something as thighs spread as wide as they can go. âFuck you-â
He chuckles, kissing the side of your head as his thumb picks up speed. âWeâre getting there, needy girl.â
You scrape at his forearm, one hand still trying to pry his shirt open with no real resolve at all. He knows exactly what heâs doing to you, the asshole. Driving you insane with the teasing over your exposed entrance, never fully offering relief. You manage to get the top button open, but then Bucky pushes down hard on your clit, and an open moan falls from your lips as you double over.
âThatâs it.â Bucky laughs, low and dangerous in your ear. âDoesnât that feel good, baby?â
You nod, watching him move on you. âBu- Bucky-â You pull on his collar. âHelpâŠâ
âYouâve got it.â He says simply, spreading two fingers and dragging them between your pussy lips. âJust keep tryinâ.â
There is no world where you have it, but Buckyâs words are enough for you to keep grasping fruitlessly at the fabric. Your head drops onto his shoulder, as you paw at his shirt. He laughs, rumbling through his chest, and slows his pace on your clit.
âAll the ways Iâve pictured havinâ you.â He mutters. âThis is the prettiest. Got you nice and ready, barely even touched you.â
âYouâre- Youâre touching me-â
âNot like I could touch you.â He says, a deep promise in his voice. âTold you, Iâm going easy on my best girl. But if I wantedâŠâ
He chuckles, kissing the side of your head. Pushing on your clit as your body starts to wiggle, trying to find more relief. âBucky-â
âEvery time Iâve seen you, layinâ on the couch.â He presses further forward, his bulge against your thigh. âIâve thought about putting my hands all over your perfect fuckinâ body. Touching these tits,â he ducks his head, and your breath hitches as he kisses over the curve of your breast. âTouchinâ this sweet little pussy.â He plays with your clit like it a toy. âAnd makinâ you squirt all over Stevieâs nice cushions.â
âIâd look at you.â You gasp, holding onto his shirt for dear life. âIn your chair. Wanted to sit on your lap.â
Bucky groans, hips jerking slightly. âShit, Iâve thought about that too. Pinning you on my cock âtill youâre sobbing, fucking you over my desk- Christ, whenever youâd bend over Iâd just want to drag your ass back and fuck it âtill you were drooling.â
âFuck, yes.â Youâve given up on the shirt.
Your hand is wandering down between your bodies, and you rub against Buckyâs crotch, trying to return some of the favor. Bucky moans into your ear, pressing his hand flat over your cunt.
âShit, you- Canât just fuckinâ-â Bucky grunts your name, and you roll your hips against his hand.
âNeed it. Need it, Bucky- Just- Your fingers, please-â
âNo.â He mutters, his own voice gravelly as you squeeze him. âCanât be patient, can you, sweetheart? Want this cock so bad youâre just grabbinâ for it, wasnât even able to get my shirt off-â
âItâs a mean game.â You breathe, and he laughs, pushing his lips back over yours.
âYou started it.â He brushes the hair from your face, easily moving you backwards until youâre just groping for something of him to hold onto.
âWhy canât you just- Just fuck me-â
âBecause you wanted to be a good girl.â Buckyâs kisses are turning slow. Lazy. Heâs groping your pussy again, but with far less purpose.
Just spreading your arousal and teasing everywhere you need him, driving you up to an edge you think might take away your mind. A mind youâd be happy to lose for him, if heâd just take it.
âAnd I want to show you.â Bucky rests his thumb over your entrance, his free hand pushing on your abdomen. Forcing you to stay still. âBut youâve got a greedy pussy, sweet girl. Think you need a little break?â
You shake your headâyou do not want a breakâbut Bucky pushes his thumb a little harder, and you squeak.
âBu- Bucky-â
âLook at me.â He orders, and you donât have another choice. His voice is magnetic.
With just the top button exposing his sweaty collarbone and his erection evidence that he cares about this as much as you do, all of Bucky is magnetic. Gravitational. And it makes you feel so unbelievably good, just to be seen by him.
Being fucked by him might kill you.
Itâs a risk youâre willing to take.
âHi.â He smiles, and your lips wobble with need.
âHi.â
âYou still in this?â
You nod, and Buckyâs throat bobs.
âIâd like you to say it-â
âYes, sir.â You canât help yourself from saying it.
Itâs supposed to be mocking. But your voice is still high, and Bucky looks at you like youâve lost your mind.
âYouâre lucky youâre so pretty.â He shakes his head, tone something between amused and exhausted. âOtherwise youâd be a really fuckinâ brat.â
You flush violently, and Bucky slaps your pussy once. Just enough to make you feel like youâve been struck by lightning, and mold back into his whims.
âOne day.â He drawls, one knuckle pushing up to press on your clit. âIâm gonna get you on my face. Let you ride me, fuckinâ suffocate between your legs.â
Youâre shaking, watching him. Heâs talking like heâs predicting the weather, but your head is running wild. The image of Bucky under you, forcing your cunt onto his generous mouth. It would be hot and wet, his hands would leave bruises, and, and-
âYouâre so reactive,â he mutters, using featherlight swipes of his thumb against your clit. âThink I could make you squirt on me. Itâll be like this,â he starts to move in tiny, rapid motions back and forth. âLike this. But my tongue,â he licks up your neck, nipping at the underside of your jaw. âAnd your needy clit beinâ sucked like Iâve got some fuckinâ candy.â
He pinches your clit, and starts to roll it back and forth. You can feel a pressure, building and building. Itâs almost blindingly good.
âYouâre makinâ such nice sounds for me.â Bucky mutters. âBet youâll sound even better, coming apart all over my cock.â
You nod, humping into his hand. You need more, but just when you think itâs going to snap, Buckyâs hand moves back down.Â
âYou feel this, baby?â He circles his thumb against your hole, and you hum, eyes flutters. âSheâs ready for me.â
âYes.â You breathe. âReady, Bucky, please- Wait-â
You almost whine when he pulls away again, but this time itâs for a good cause. Bucky rips his shirt off, tossing it to an unimportant corner of the room.
Heâs a work of art. All thick, tanned muscle and scars from his time in the army. They ripple when he moves, decorate him like earned tattoos, and you want to map each one with your fingers. His arms are fucking tanks, reaching out for you, and you tumble into them without a thought.
Bucky hauls you into his arms, hooking under your ass and dragging you off the counter with only a grunt.
âLegs around me.â He orders, and you obey. Itâs nice to be this close to him.
Plus the bonus, of getting to try and ride his chest while he carries you to your room. You stumble and giggle, trying to give him directions. Bucky shoves open your door with his shoulder, and you laugh as he walks backwards to the bed, his knees hitting the mattress and sending you both tumbling down.
âShit- Bucky!â You shriek with delight as Bucky rolls you over, trapping you under his broad body. âOh- Ooh-â
Your words fall off as he kisses you into the mattress, settling between your spread legs quickly. Your hands wander over the expanse of his back, and itâs a nice wealth to be crushed under. Youâre losing cognitive function again, as Bucky ruts his still covered erection against your wet core. You donât know how heâs kept it together so long. You feel like youâre going to cry with desperation, and youâre fully at his whims.
This is nice, though. Itâs a hot pressureâstill far from what you need, but enough to tide you overâand Buckyâs wall of muscle around might be the best things youâve ever felt. Your tits pressed against his chest, his arms braced by your head as you just make out like teenagers. He glides one hand down, rolling your nipple between calloused fingers, and you gasp softly.
âBu- Bucky-â
âIâm gonna start slow.â He murmurs, low and commanding. âThen pick it up. Fuck you âtill you canât walk, baby. Give you what you deserve.â He drops his hips, forcing you to stop grinding up. âThat sound good?â
You nod, blinking hopelessly up at him, and he smiles.
âGood girl.â You get a sweet kiss on your cheek, his beard tickling softly. âStay down.â
You donât understand the request until heâs moving again, and suddenly it seems impossible. Being naked in front of him had been one thing. Naked, sprawled out in bed below him, and watching him strip is another thing.
Bucky sits up on his knees, never breaking eye contact as he pulls off his belt. You start to chew on your lower lip, and he moves back forward, stopping you with a gentle press of his thumb.
âEasy.â He murmurs. âRelax.â
You whimper, but try to. For Bucky.
And you think you might be turning into a puddle anyway, under the reverence in his gaze.
Bucky gets his pants off with practiced ease, and your mouth falls open.
His cock is thick and big. Veiny in a way you want to feel dragging against you, the head red and angry. Your breath catches as he starts to stroke it, just watching you wait for him.
Your legs close, trying to rub together for some friction. Bucky grabs your knee, and drags them back apart.
âLet me see you.â His thumb rubs in small circles. In a perfect rhythm, with his hand beating his cock. âNice and relaxed for me, doll. Need you to be relaxed.â
You hum, watching him under hooded eyes. You canât stop yourself from glancing down to his dick again. You feel empty, waiting for him. Youâve been waiting long enough as it is.
Bucky follows your gaze, and his lips twitch.
âYou just walk around all the time?â He teases. âWaiting for some cock to fill you up.â
You nod, breathing through your mouth, and Buckyâs throat bobs.
âYeah?â
âMhm.â You whisper, dragging your gaze back to his. âNeed to feel you, Bucky. Pleeease.â
He swears under his breath. âLegs a little wider. Now.â
You listen quickly, and Bucky lowers down. He drags his cock between the puffed, slick lips of your pussy, the head bumping against your clit.
âDirty girl.â He hovers over you, watching your every breath as he plays with you. âSo fuckinâ pretty, should be stuffed with cock all the time, shouldnât you. Gonna keep you in my bed, fuck you full of me.â He kisses you quickly, his words getting rough. âMy smart fuckinâ baby, begging for my cock.â
âDonât- Donât tease-â You mumble, and Bucky grins.
âBut youâre so pretty when I do.â
He kisses your cheek, and you feel raw. A live nerve, open for him and almost vibrating with desire. But Buckyâs hands are gentle against you. And you know.
Heâs going to treat you well.
âYou think you can let go for me?â His question is gentle. Almost soft. âAlways workinâ so hard.â He notches himself at your entrance, and your breath catches. âIâm gonna take care of you, arenât I.â
âYes.â You whisper. âPlease.â
Bucky grins, and kisses your lips. âThatâs right. You just gotta take it.â
You donât get to even nod, before Bucky starts to push in.
And youâre not a blushing nun. Youâve used your fingers, and even some toys. Tried to see what the big deal was. But it had just felt like something was inside of you, and kind of heavy, and mostly just annoying.
This is different.
Bucky splits you open, and it knocks the air from your lungs.
âBreathe.â He grunts in your ear, and you nod uselessly. âBreathe, baby.â
You gasp for air, burying your face in the crook of Buckyâs neck, and clawing at his shoulders.
He mutters your name, and you try to arch your back up, inviting more. You need more. Everywhere he isnât feels cold and hollow. Bucky needs to smear himself all over you, or youâre going to lose your mind.
âMore.â You manage to croak out, and Bucky grunts.
âAre you-â
âYes- Fuuuuck-â
You moan, loud and shameless, as Bucky presses deeper in. He bullies your pussy open, thick cock pressing deep into you and making your feel more full than you couldâve ever felt possible. Your body feels like itâs singing, a shiver of delight pushing up your spine as he hits that spot inside you that you werenât even sure was real.
Your pussy clenches involuntarily, and Bucky hisses in your ear.
âShit- Relax.â His thumb snakes between your bodies, massaging your clit. âLet me in, babydoll, come on-â
The massaging helps. You melt into him with a shaking breath, head tipping back when he bottoms out.
Buckyâs head drops into your chest, his breath hot against your breasts. Youâre just sitting in each other, in the sticky, feverish heat that might drive you insane.
âYou feel⊠fuckinâ perfect.â
Buckyâs voice is a rasp, and he sounds like a man ruined.
You might have already lost your mind.
âYou too.â You breathe out, and he chuckles.
The sound is a vibration, and you bite your lip as pleasure rushes right down to your toes.
âOh⊠God.â You squeeze your eyes shut, clenching again, and Bucky grabs your hips.
âYou gotta stop doinâ that-â
âCanât.â You whine. ââS- You did it, you spent forever working me up, and- And now-â
His muscles shift around you, and thatâs enough for your body to keen. Your back arches, pussy squeezing, and Bucky makes a guttural sound from his chest.
You squeak, when he pulls the tiniest amount out and slams back in. Your body goes completely limp, and Bucky pushes up over you, his cock still buried deep inside as he stares down at you.
âFor someone who asked me to teach her, youâre bad at takinâ directions.â
âYou- Bucky-â Heâs fucking you, shallow and slow. Just dragging back and forth. You might cry over it. âYou- You knew that already-â
âI did.â He muses, pressing your hips further down. Forcing you to feel every thrust of his cock against your cervix. âItâs something that I love about you, yâknow? So sweet and mouthy, all at once. My dream girl. So far outta my reach.â
He angles you a little up, letting him rut against your g-spot, and any chance of a sassy retort is knocked out of your head.
âNot right now, though.â His lips twitch. âBet youâd tell me anythinâ right now, if I fucked you nice and properly. Fucked you like you deserve?â
Your head bobs, words slurred on lust. âAny- Anything, Bucky, oh my god- mmmmh-â
His thumb swipes your clit, and itâs like a tiny shock you canât even react to. Your body jerks, but Bucky just pins you back into the mattress.
âThink I donât want you to talk right now.â Bucky leans down, smirking as you blink with teary eyes. âWeâre a little past that, arenât we sweetheart?â
Thereâs something mean and powerful, radiating off of him right now. He really knows exactly where he has you right now. And you have no desire to be anywhere else.Â
âYe- Yes.âÂ
âMightâve fucked you nicely, if weâd just talked a month ago.â He raises his brows. âBut you made me wait for this pretty pussy. Hurting us both, baby.â
âI- I was-â
âI know.â He kisses your nose. âYou are a fuckinâ brat. Bet you thought about this every time you touched yourself.â
âI- I did.â You confess. âNeeded your cock, Bucky. Youâre- Youâre so big-â
You mewl, as he rolls his hips and slams back in. He kisses you, open-mouthed and sloppy, and you can feel your slick need running down your ass. Or just Buckyâs sweat, as he tenses with the effort to hold himself back.
Effort is visibly, slowly slipping.
âYou feel that? Feel this dick inside of you?â He fucks a little harder, and your head rolls. âAll yours, babydoll. This hard, just for you.â
You whine, and Bucky sucks on a soft spot at the base of your throat.
âYouâre a natural.â He groans against your skin. âMade for this cock, made to be my pretty doll, and- shit-â
He rises back up, watching you with a dark, hungry gaze.
âYouâre trying so hard, arenât you. To not choke my dick with your tight little pussy.â
âI- I am, Bucky- Please-â
âYou gonna be good and listen to me, now?â
You nod, doe-eyed and cockdrunk, and Bucky hums in satisfaction.
âHands on my shoulders.â He instructs, and your body somehow finds the strength to listen. âMouth open. No holding back, wanna hear how you like it. Hear you scream my name.â
He kisses under your jaw, and you moan loudly. Buckyâs lips curve, and he pulls a little further out than before.
âJust like that. Good, isnât it?â
âSo good.â You whine, and Bucky hums.
âStay just like this for me, doll.â He drags fully out, then slams back in. You think you see stars behind your eyes, and a sound you didnât know you could make is pulled from your chest.
âBuuccky-â
âI know. Needy girl, wound up so tight.â He sets a slow but brutal pace, his hands bruising into your hips as he holds you down. âIâve got you now.â
And he does.
Buckyâs got you so good, youâre already ruined for anyone else.
He fucks you the same way heâs been kissing and touching you. Like heâs trying to lay a claim. Make it so thereâs no question what he wants, no doubt in your head that this is anything but serious. His hips piston against you, but itâs not rapid. Itâs the measured, strong work of someone who knows exactly what heâs doing.
If thereâs a pleasure point on your body, Buckyâs finding it and using it. You babble, as he abuses your g-spot with the thick head of his cock. His kisses swallow your every moan and plea, and you canât think beyond his massive body, completely draped over yours. Youâre tangled together, his balls slapping your ass and hands wandering over your body like he owns it.
He drags your knees up to your chest, helping him hit even deeper. Youâre so wet itâs smearing all over his cock, and the sight of him driving in and out of you is enough to make that pressure in your tummy feel like itâs going to explode.
Buckyâs beyond words himself, hunching over your and taking one of your nipples in his mouth as he grabs at the other. You mewl, eyes glazed over and body overwhelmed with the need to cum. You might scream if you donât. Youâre probably already screaming.
âI- I need- Bucky, please, please, fuck-â
You scratch at his shoulder, so close to toppling over the edge but unable to figure out how to just fall. Bucky grunts, slamming down harder. His tongue swirls your nipple, sucking the peak between full lips before he crashes back up. His kiss is sloppy and open. Youâre writhing in the sheet, edged into complete oblivion and on the verge of tears.
âYou having some trouble, babydoll?â Bucky teases, throaty and wrecked.
You nod, shaking with the need to snap. Bucky hums, kissing you too sweetly to be productive.
âLet go for me.â He squeezes your ass. âJust let go.â
Bucky finds your clit, and barely even offers more than a tease before youâre coming with a scream of his name.
Your back flies off the mattress, your hips bucking, and youâve never cum this hard in your life. The tension in you burst like fireworks, heat pooling down your pussy and your body trembling. Your vision goes white. You might black out for a second, the daze of pleasure clouding your gaze.
Thereâs nothing but Bucky, still pounding into you. The obscene sounds of it, his guttural moans and the slide of his cock through your spasming cunt. His thrusts are jagged and uneven, his mouth kissing you everywhere he can seem to reach.
He follows you quickly, thick ropes of cum painting your insides and dribbling out of your pussy.
Bucky kisses you one more time, before he pulls out. Itâs slower, like heâs trying to memorize you. You reach up to cup his face, smiling against his lips, and he lets out a heavy breath.
âThat wasnât too-â
âPerfect.â You whisper, and he relaxes.
âGood. Good.â He rises back up, brushing away the hair stuck to your face.
For a second, you just watch each other.
And with Bucky looking at you like youâre the most beautiful thing in the universe, you feel like it.
He certainly treats you like it, too. Cleaning you up like youâre a princess, a treatment you never thought youâd want until it was Bucky offering. A warm, wet cloth between your thighs and a glass of water. He carries you into the bathroom, changes the sheets, then brings you back to bed.
He pauses after he sets you down, hovering around the mattress with a frown.
You scoot a little to the side, give him a hopeful look, and his shoulders slump.
He crawls into bed next to you, pressing his face into your breasts and holding you tight.
âWe got things to talk about.â He mutters, and you hum, playing with his hair between your fingers.
âI know.â
âI was serious, about all of it-â
âI believe you.â
Bucky looks up at you with tired, but happy eyes. You smile, and they crinkle when he returns it.
It doesnât matter if youâre the most anything in the world.
To him, you seem to be the world. And thatâs more than enough.
âIâd like to take you out.â He says. âOn a real date. Then the gala, too. If you-â
âYes.â You beam. âYes, please. Iâd like that a lot.â
âŠEnd note: bucky on a dating app has haunted me since tfatws. glad to do something with that.âŠ
âŠIf you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3âŠ
âŠBuy me a coffee!âïž (and get early access!)âŠ
âŠTaglist (Fill out this form to be added!)âŠ
Hello and good morning to you all, and welcome once again to another Fandom Friday. As always, this is your host Coffeelorian or if you prefer, just plain Coffee, back with another update from around the vast fandom that is Star Wars.
Before we begin, however, I wonder if I might ask you all a somewhat silly question:
Are people not interacting with fanfiction any more, or is it just my imagination�
I only ask this because Iâve seen long form stories get little to no attention whatsoever, whereas (depending on the audience) the one-shots can get anywhere from 20 notes in total to well over one hundred plusâŠso perhaps this leads me to my next question of the day:
What areas of the Star Wars Fanfiction world could use more attention as far as readership goes?
Feel free to drop some hints in the comments or reblogs, and perhaps if I have the time, I can start adding a few more to my fandom recs tag!
Until then, howeverâŠhere are my picks of the week.
THE PREQUELS
âWhere The Dust Settlesâ, by @holy-kenobi.
âBondedâ, by @rosesloveletters.
THE BAD BATCH
âCargoâ, by @scribblesofshadow.
âSunlightâ, by @nonooos-stuff.
MAUL: SHADOW LORD
âAdagioâ, by @donniesgaptooth.
âStormâ, by @maulsdear.
ANDOR
âWhat Will We Leave Behind?â, by
âParachutes And Lost Faithâ, by @mylovelies-docx.
THE MANDALORIAN
âBy His Sideâ, by @din-cognito.
âNo Matter Whatâ, by @beloved-by-the-moon.
In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and highlight those creators who might otherwise go unnoticedâŠI hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the writers a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.
Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.
An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.
I also think interaction with fanfics has been declining, but I'm not a regular poster of content by any means and that's usually the #1 way of gaining followers/notes, but my content this year hasn't really gotten much interaction, if any. Something else I've noticed is that even if you tag something, it's not always showing up under that tag (i.e. Pt 2 to the fic you recommended isn't showing for me under the Cassian tags I follow). I think it's a combination of the algorithm not being nearly as good as it used to be as well as a new/different user base for Tumblr that isn't as interested in fic as the old users (which is fine - we all get older/move on and lose interest in some things and find it in others). Just my thoughts, though đ€.
Based on the songs Parachute by Hayley Williams and Lost My Faith by Johnny Huynh!
Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader (gn/no description)
Word count: 2,500
About: You would have done anything for Cassian - had on a number of occasions. But how can you still love him when he betrays all the love and faith you'd placed in him?
Tags: Angst, betrayal, no happy ending (yet?)
Was it ever love? You canât help but think as you stare blankly at your lover standing half a flight field away from you. You see the broad strokes of the image, not the minute details: his stubbled jaw, his hands in her spiraled hair, his lips locked in a sloppy kiss.
Logically, youâre sure thereâs something youâre missing. You and Cassian were the ones that were together. Even if you had kept your relationship as low-key as you could. No one besides the Rogue One crew knew, and that was only because K2 was too observant for his own good. Heâd stated there was âa 98.7% chanceâ that you and Cassian had spent the prior night together before the mission several moon cycles ago. Unable to tell him he was wrong, Cassian instead told everyone to keep it between the group. You didnât mind, at the time: itâs not like there was a line of admirers following him. Cassian was not someone you had to worry about, jealousy wise.Â
Or, he wasnât, you guess.Â
Heâs stand-offish and rude, curt and sometimes mean, especially to beings he didnât know or didnât like. It took many, many missions for Cassian to see you as more than a hindrance, as someone who was able to keep themselves safe during a blaster fight but also knew enough not to get into unnecessary ones.Â
It took many, many, many more late night conversations, peacefully silent hyperspace jumps, and cantina meals together before Cassian even mentioned that he might have feelings for you. He wasnât a shy man, but he was reserved in his feelings and who he decided to let into his life due to all the loss heâs suffered.Â
But Cassian is a million other things, as well. Kind and gentle: soft caresses of your cheeks, gentle bites on your bottom lip, calloused fingers trailing up your naked spine. Passionate without fear of burning up in his fire, knowing that he was only angry with himself when he yells after a mission because he couldnât keep you safe enough. Thought that the scraped hands and knees were all his fault and that he should have done things differently, done things better, that way you never would have been injured. Reticent after a long mission, curled up around you with his ear pressed over your heart just to hear its steady beat.
You would like it if the whole of the Rebellion knew the two of you were together, but Cassian was a private person and you respected that. Or, maybe he just wanted to keep you private. So you canât help but wonder if all his quiet, unassuming love was real at all. If youâd only felt drugged on the way he made you feel special and had you missing all the signs that he wasnât reciprocating.That might make the scene in front of you make more sense. Any sense at all, really.
But that canât be the truth. Youâve spent years with the man, knew him like the back of your own hand: how he took his caf, the contentment he felt with your fingers in his hair, that the standard issue bedding was the softest heâd slept on since Niamos.Â
Cassian was everything you had ever wanted in a partner, both professionally and personally. Youâd fallen hard. Leaped without donning a parachute. All because you believed he was always waiting below you with open arms.
But as you spiral inside the four walls that housed your and Cassianâs âloveâ, you canât help but feel haunted by the past, wondering how the faith you had placed in Cassian could have been shattered this thoroughly. As if heâd taken your heart in his hands and crushed it.
Maybe he could explain it all away, you just needed to give him time. Itâs obviously for a mission, just to keep his cover. But⊠no. Heâd literally just returned from a mission, Rogue 1 parked right behind him. And youâre on a Rebellion base, who would he need to fool?Â
You think you could have given him the benefit of the doubt, maybe heâd had his eyes closed and thought the human woman currently attacking his mouth was you. Maybe he was under some kind of hallucinogenic.
Even so, you knew those were both impossible scenarios when he broke the kiss and stroked the face of the woman in front of him before making eye contact with you beyond her shoulder. His eyes held no affection, only a steely resolve that made your stomach plummet. Youâd seen that look on his face many times before - like when he and Jyn were collapsed on the beach right before you swooped in and saved them before Scarif imploded.Â
It was a look that said heâd made his decision and damn the consequences.
Nausea bubbles up your throat and you swallow hard to keep it down. The effort forces the bubbles behind your eyes and you canât keep the tears from filling your lashline. Blinking hurriedly to keep them from falling, you turn abruptly and tear back towards your shared room. You leave the runway, haunted by the ghost of what youâd just witnessed.
â
You had honestly expected him to arrive earlier than this. Heâd never left you sitting on your bed alone for this long even after your nastiest fights. You sit at the edge, covers still amiss from this morning when youâd woken up, waiting for him to come back from this week-long mission. No holos are playing for background noise, the lights and sound too much for your frazzled nerves and swimming thoughts.
Youâve replayed the kiss over, and over, and over again in your mind. Every time imagining a different look on Cassianâs face. A different outcome where he pushed her away and ran to you to explain. Fantasizing that he actually cared enough to tell you what the hell was going on rather than letting you fester by yourself in silence.
Youâd had many calls from your friends, with all of them trying to stop by in groups or one by one to get you to open the door. But you couldnât face them. What could you say? That you were stupid and foolish to think you were allowed to be happy with him? That you were so blindsided by this development that youâve had no less than two panic attacks, panting on the cold tile of the refresher floor?
You had nothing to say to explain to them because Cassian had not explained anything. Youâre just waiting for him to come and tell you something that made sense.
Unfortunately, finally, you hear the code being pressed into the keypad outside your accommodation. Heavy footfalls stumble in, and thick boots clunk to the floor, landing somewhere against a wall. You can smell the spirits before you even see Cassianâs face.
Your reflex is to stand up and head towards him to help remove the jacket heâs struggling with, but you remind yourself that Cassian has allowed you to sit here in misery while he was off drinking himself into this stupor. You reclaim your place on the mattress as you watch him fling the jacket onto the ground.
He stands before you, slightly out of breath and with eyes practically floating in his skull with how much heâs had to drink. You canât think of a reason that he felt the need to drink when it should have been you.
You raise your head and meet his eyes, your hands clenched uncomfortably tight in your lap to the point that several fingers start going numb. But youâll take numb over the pain youâre in right now. And the only way to stop the pain, stop the confusion, is for Cassian to speak.
But youâre scared.
Youâre terrified of the words that could come out of his mouth, so you donât open yours to ask the questions that have been on the tip of your tongue since the incident: what happened to us? Why were you kissing someone else when it should have been me? What did I do to deserve this?
The answer to that last question is, of course, rhetorical; youâve done a lot of bad things to have karma rebound like she has. Being a member of the Rebellion for as long as you have, youâve cheated, fought, stole, and even murdered in the name of the cause. You had justifications for each and every one, but the Force doesnât always weigh your intentions versus the outcomes.
But Cassian has the same blood on his hands, so how could those be reasons for him to do what heâs done? With anger finally making an appearance in your trembling fingers, you finally ask the question:
âWhy?â Your raspy voice grates against your sore throat.
âWhat do you mean âwhyâ, princesa?â Cassian replies.Â
The nickname heâs called you since being together tears its way into your wounded self. How can he still call you that? Itâs cruel, and youâve never known him to be so cruel.
âYou know what I mean.â Your tone is short, in direct contrast to his own drawn out, sloppy words. âWho is she?â
Cassian raises his face to the ceiling and blows out a long, alcohol-thick, breath. âAh, mi amore. Sheâsââ
ââMi amoreâ?â you question, breathlessly. And again, more forcefully. ââMi amoreâ?!â You stand suddenly, the anger surging from your fingertips and straight to your heart. A full body tremor takes over and you see red. âStars, Cassian! Who the hell is she? You leave me for a week and suddenly you have a new amore?â Your voice is explosive with the force of your anger, but the dejection returns just as swiftly. You add quietly, âOne that youâre not afraid to show off?â
And thatâs what hurts the most â that heâs willing to keep you a dirty secret from the rest of the galaxy while he parades her around in front of every being on the Rebel base. Countless nights spent creeping along empty corridors and hiding behind walls anytime you heard footsteps, sitting the standard amount of space away from each other in the cantina while every other couple shared seats or laps, the withdrawal of his hand whenever another person entered the room. Your heart convulses and contorts itself, wanting to evict itself from your body in order to lay on the ground at Cassianâs feet so he can finish the job heâs started.
âMy mission was to save her from Vaderâs forces. Sheâd been captured by stormtroopers and held in interrogation for information she holds. We need her.â He explains clearly, even with the spirits flowing through his veins.
âAnd you kissed her becauseâŠ?â you ask.
âBecause I had to,â he responds bluntly.
âHad to?â you scoff, tears welling in your eyes once again. âBecause you love her?â
Silence is the only answer you receive to your questions. Cassianâs gaze remains fixed on a point just beyond your shoulder, his jaw clenched tight.
You nod your head sadly, understanding dawning in your mind. âYouâve met her before. Sheâs someone you knew before me.â
âYes.â
âAnd you were together?â you continue.
He nods.
âAnd youâre together again. Now?âÂ
â... yes.â he sighs.
You close your eyes as tears fall rapidly. You stutter in a breath, lips quivering with the effort of holding back a sob. âAnd you didnât have the decency to break up with me first? You had to make me watch you kiss someone else?â you cry.
âIâm sorry, princesa.â Cassianâs voice trembles as he speaks. âShe is someone we cannot lose.â
âAnd I couldnât lose you, Cassian!â you sob. âIâve been falling for you since we met - I jumped without looking down because I thought you would be there to catch me!â You wipe your hands harshly across your face, the tear stains burning as they trail past your cheeks. âI had no parachute. I jumped, I fell, and now Iâve hit the ground.â
âMi amoââ he starts.
âNo!â you shout. âYouâve destroyed me, Cassian. After all weâve been through, all the trust I put into you and into us, and this is how you treat me?â Sobs wrack your frame as you encircle your arms around yourself, trying to hold the shattered pieces together. âDid you ever even love me at all?â
âOf course I did,â Cassian cries, raising a hand as if to grab your arm. You flinch back and stumble down onto the bed where you started.
âDonât say that like itâs obvious, Cassian.â you beg. âDonât act like anything youâve done today hasnât been a complete betrayal of my trust in you.â
His hand drops down to his side and both hands clench into tight fists. âIâm sorry,â he repeats.
You shake your head several times. Pain vibrating its way from your heart and giving you shivers so violent your teeth chatter. âIf you have any respect for me, youâll leave me alone.â you say.
âPrincesa,â Cassian says, slumping to the ground on his knees. âThereâs more to this, you have to believe me. I can explainââ
You interrupt again. âThen explain.â
He hesitates once again and itâs more than you can take. âI canât right now.â
âGet out, Cassian.â
Cassian calls your name softly. âPlease, youâre shivering. Let me hold you, I can help.â
âNow. Leave now.â your words come out as a growl between your teeth and you open your eyes and pierce your gaze into Cassianâs stricken face.
He opens his mouth slightly, as if starting to say something, but closes it just as quickly. He nods shakily and rises to his feet, using the nearby furniture to help him up. Heâs more unsteady on his feet now than he was when he walked in. Cassian bends down to pick up his discarded boots and makes his way to the exit. He pauses after opening the door.
âI promise thereâs more to this,â he sighs. âYou and IâŠâ
You donât respond and Cassianâs shoulders slump. His sock-clad feet walk into the hallway and the door whooshes shut behind him.
Rain begins to fall outside your bedroom, fat drops striking the transparisteel and rolling down, down, down off the bottom ledge. The trees beyond whip violently and the leaves are all soon soaked in the precipitation. It washes away the life youâd been living with Cassian and brings with it one where you are no longer part of a whole.Â
You collapse down onto your side and stare out your transparisteel window at the base beyond. Trees sway in a brisk wind and dark clouds cover the sky. You reach out to the nightstand and grab your holodeck. After a brief voice call with General Merrick, youâve successfully convinced him to send you off planet for the foreseeable future.
A/N: May end up writing a sequel if this gets enough love. Something to the tune of Blue by VOILĂ đ
You are one, and you are alone.
Well, Pt.2 is to a dif song, but still a couple parts that could use Blue eventually...
Several months later in a solar system far, far away.
A contented sigh leaves your chest as you stare out into the darkness of open space; youâll never tire of this view. Stars hundreds of thousands of lightyears away, swirling galaxies above, behind, below you, and the quiet solitude of being the only living thing within a thousand parsecs.Â
The view is spectacular and reminds you how small you and all your problems really are. Joining Yellow Squadron had solved some issues and created new ones, but overall it was better than stewing in bitterness on Rogue One. Stars, you couldnât even imagine what that would have been like, how painful, having to sit co-pilot with Cassian only a few inches away physically, but galaxies away in all ways that mattered.
And hereâs one of said problems now. You roll your eyes in anticipatory agitation and flip the comms switch so that the Control Room operator can relay the message.
âIntelligence to Yellow Three. Come in Yellow Three,â they call.
âYellow Three to Intelligence. I read you â unfortunatelyâ you grumble the last word under your breath. With the mic open, youâre unsure if either Intelligence or Control Room heard you mutter to yourself, but they give no indication and you give no fucks. You know whoâs on the other side and you already know what theyâre going to say.
General Merrickâs voice echoes tinnily through your small cockpit. âBy all the Hells, Yellow Three. What were you thinking back there?â
You roll your eyes again and respond back. âI was thinking that we needed that intelligence and I was going to get it any way possible. And I did,â you emphasize, your hands gesticulating in a âso thereâ movement.
âYou werenât thinking, is the way it seemed. You were almost captured back thereâ Merrick retorts. Heâs not wrong, but heâs also not praising your ingenuity in how you squeezed out of the situation.
âBut I didnât,â you say, âand I got exactly what we were looking for.â
A deep sigh resonates around you as General Merrick gives up. You can almost see him using his index and thumb to apply pressure to the bridge of his nose in exasperation. âFine, Yellow Three. You succeeded in the most reckless way possible, but you still succeeded. Head back to Base for a mission debrief.â
You salute sarcastically, glad that the General canât see you. âRight away, sir.â You flip the comms off and return to lounging in your seat and enjoying the solitude for several more moments. Knowing General Merrick and many others are waiting for you, you lean upright and chart a course to Base.
Youâre not looking forward to the greeting party that awaits you.
***
You see two figures standing by your designated landing pad as you draw near the planetâs surface. You only really ever stop to refuel occasionally, so you havenât stepped foot outside your pad since you took off the day after Cassian⊠yeah. Since Cassian.. Your heart canât help but beat faster thinking that he could be one of the ones waiting down there to welcome you home. But as you draw closer, the mix of relief and heartbreak settles heavy in your stomach when you recognize Jyn and Bodhi.
You hover for a moment longer before touching down and powering off all equipment. You pop the cockpit hatch and drop the ladder, your feet finally touching ground seconds later. Bodhi immediately comes in for a hug, which you give, while Jyn hangs back in her typical âno-touchâ kind of way. You give them both a broad grin and drape your arms around both their shoulders and pull them along either side of you.
âItâs been a while, guys. Iâve missed you,â you say as you begin walking to Intelligence.
âWeâve also missed you,â Bodhi says and pats the hand you have draped over him. âItâs been a while.â
âItâs been more than âa whileâ,â Jyn grouses on your other side. You shake her quickly and then drop both arms, walking side by side with them into the main Base.
âIâve been busy,â you shrug.
âBusy being an idiot?â Jyn quips, âYeah, weâve heard.â
âOuch,â you laugh at her. âWho said that?â
âWho hasnât?â is Bodhiâs response. His face scrunches up as he quickly says, âsorry.â
You wave off his apology, not bothered in the slightest by the comment. Your behavior these past few months could be considered idiotic by some, but you consider it necessary. Anything to help the cause.
Anything to forget him.
You shake your head to dispel the thought and quicken your pace. The sooner you debrief, the sooner youâll be back in space.
âJust so you know,â Jyn begins as you round the corner of the hallway that houses the conference room youâll be entering, âCassian has a missionââ
âBuh buh buh buh!â You shush, hands covering your ears for a moment. âHe is none of my business.â
Jyn pulls a hand away from your head and chuckles. âNo, seriously. You need to hear this. Heâs already gotten permission from Merrick.â
âTo do what?â you respond as all three of you come to a stop outside the conference room door. You reach forward to activate the opening sequence and hear Jyn suck in a quick breath and feel both Jynâs and Bodhiâs hands on your arm to stop you. But itâs too late.Â
The door slides open and, by all the stars in the sky, the air leaves your lungs when you see Cassian Andor standing there just next to General Merrick.
Jynâs hands squeeze your arm subtly while Bodhi gives you a small pat. âGood luck,â one of them whispers in your ear before they leave you alone. All rational thought has fled your mind â all thatâs left is the intense need to run away. To run back to Yellow Three and disappear into the galaxy where you never, ever have to look this man in his face ever again.Â
But before you can even stumble backwards, the General says your name and waves you into the room. Your feet move on autopilot, not able to disobey the order. You walk woodenly into the darkened room and keep your eyes focused solely on General Merrick where he stands behind the projected holoimage of the planet youâd just left not long ago.Â
You vaguely understand that Merrick asks you to report on the mission and you feel your mouth moving along to whatever the hells youâre saying as you point out areas and buildings on the holo. But your bodyâs entire focus is pinned on Cassian as he analyzes your methods and outcomes, and you feel instantly when his anger flares â the tensing of his muscles, the grinding of his teeth, the heat of the fire burning in his eyes. You must have gotten to the part where your cover had been blown and instead of standing down and getting out of there, you decided to blast your way through.Â
And, like, yeah you know it wasnât the smartest decision in the galaxy, but if you hadnât done that then you wouldnât have gotten what you needed.
Cassianâs gaze burns a hole in your face from where he stands adjacent to you at the holotable. You just know heâs demanding you look him in the eyes as you detail all the myriad of ways you could have died â but didnât!-- without anyone but General Merrick being the wiser. You refuse his silent demand and wrap up your explanation by handing over a holodisk full of names,aliases, and locations necessary to further the Rebel Allianceâs agenda.
âI would say good work,â General Merrick begins, âbut that would imply I agree with your decisions.â You nod your head in understanding. Of course, not everyone was going to agree with your methods, but you knew in your heart that you did the right thing and he canât punish you for thatâ âWhich is why I will no longer be placing you on solo missions.â
Wait, wait, wait, waitâ âWhat?!â you squeak out. This canât be happening. You need these solo missions, theyâre the only things keeping you sane⊠Sane-ish, if your recklessness is taken into account.
âWeâve already discussed it,â Merrick signals between himself and Cassian, and you canât help but throw a quick glare over at the man you once shared a bed with. You donât keep your eyes on him long enough to see his reaction, though. âYou will be joining Captain Andor on his upcoming mission.â
âAnd who the kriff gave you the right to do that?â you spit out towards Cassian, focusing your glare fully on him now.
A mistake.
You see his dark, thick hair is mussed, likely manhandled by his own hands â or hers. The stubble on his cheeks is longer than youâve seen on him, making him look older than he is â maybe she likes it that way. His dry, cracked lips he always got this time of year on the base â or from kissing her. His dark eyes hollowed by shadows that stare intensely back into yours â ones she gets to see every night and every morning like you used to.
No matter where you look, Cassian is the same and wholly different to the man you loved and the man that broke your heart. The fact that he even has the audacity to stand in front of you now, to make decisions for you instead of with you, lights a fire deep in your chest. One that fuels the anger you already feel at the situation.
âA superior officer,â barks Merrick. âAnd one with your best interests in mind, since you seem incapable of keeping your own.â
You turn your head back to Merrick. âI refuse.â Your voice comes out soft, in direct contrast to the amount of anger you feel. Youâre holding back with all your might, but if you speak any louder you will unleash your full rage on the men standing in this room and that would not bode well for your position in the rebellion.
âNon-negotiable,â Cassian finally speaks up. âWe already have everything planned.â
The sound of his voice - low and cool - works you up even more. Instead of the longing and absolute misery it would otherwise incite, you funnel it ever deeper to fuel your anger. You canât be weak right now, you wonât allow it.
âThen Iâm done. Iâm done with my missions, and Iâm done with the Rebellion.â You turn around and begin walking towards the exit. Merrick calls your name harshly and you can hear Cassian whisper hushed words to him, likely telling him that heâll bring you back, that you didnât mean it.
But you did. If the only choices are to spend an unknown amount of time with Cassian Andor or leave the Alliance that has been your home for years, then Force be with you, because you donât know how youâd survive a moment longer in Cassianâs presence.
Youâve made your way out of the conference room and into the hallway. You can hear the echo of your footsteps as your boots thud across the floor. Your only mission now is to return to your quarters and gather your things, someone is sure to give you a ride off-planet soon enough.
Before you make it even halfway to your quarters, though, a hand grabs your arm and spins you around. Youâre now staring at Cassian, his body less than a standard length away and you canât breathe once again. His fingers burn where they hold your wrist and itâs all you can do to yank it away.Â
âDonât kriffing touch me,â you growl.
Cassian raises his hands in surrender, knowing that youâre in a dangerous mood right now. At least he remembers how to back off.Â
âSorry,â he says. âYou werenât hearing me call for you.â
âOh,â you laugh darkly, âIâm sorry, Captain Andor, superior officer.â You can see the slightest flinch from Cassian when you say this and it makes you feel good. âI didnât realize I was disobeying a direct order.â
âMaker, Y/N,â he scolds. âWhat are you doing right now? Why would you say youâre done with the Rebellion?â
You scoff in his face and cross your shaking arms - your wrist still pulses with the heat of his fingers. ââWhyâ? Do you seriously have to ask that question?â
He wipes his hand across his eyes and then uses it to run through his hair (so heâs the one that messed it up, not her). âWhen youâre not acting like yourself? Yes, I must ask the question,â he mocks, his own arms coming up and crossing his chest in a mirrored pose to yours.
Right now, you wished more than anything that your anger response was a twitching brow or a sweaty upper lip, but the angry tears are beginning to well up and you can do nothing to stop them. ââNot acting like myselfâ, huh? Well, at least you know me so well. I donât think I ever knew you, I guess.â The words burn your throat as you say them, because you did know him.The version of him he wanted you to know.
âThatâs notâ!â Cassian begins, but cuts himself off. He growls in frustration and drops his arms, starting back at you in vexation. Good. At least you still remember how to get under his skin. âI just â General Merrick wanted my opinion on your tactics these past months.â
âWhy?â You question, âHe thinks you know me so well because he found out that we fuckedââ
Cassian slaps a hand over your mouth and stares down the opposite end of the hallway. Footsteps echo along the corridor and Cassian grabs you once again and throws the both of you into a nearby closet.
âI said to get your godsdamned hands off of meââ you spit at him as he closes the door behind you. The overhead light flickers on and the shadows it casts on his face make him appear so weary that he could collapse at any moment. You harden your heart against the pang of sadness he brings about.
âFrom what I saw from our past missions,â Cassian answers your first question, âcompared to your recent solo ones. And yes, I donât think youâre a good candidate for another right now.â
âThen why the hells would you recommend me for one of yours?â You sneer.
âBecause-â Cassian heaves a deep sigh. âBecause Iâd at least be able to watch your back this way.â
âWhy do you care?!â you nearly shout. âWho are you to judge my mission performance? And who are you to watch my back? Youâve already stabbed me there once, Andor, Iâm not going to let you do it again.â
Your chest heaves with the vitriol bubbling in your veins, and your eyes are watering heavily with the pain and anger of the conversation. You wipe your eyes with the palms of your hands, but the tears just fall right back over. âYou left me!â you cry. âYou want answers now for whatâs wrong with me? Well thatâs too damn bad, isnât it? Because the answer is you.â
You make a move to storm out of the closet, but Cassian raises his arm to block your way. You groan in frustration and pain at the situation he has dragged you into, but you canât bring yourself to touch him again. It might just break the last shred of control you have.
âDonât,â Cassian whispers. âDonât leave right now.â
âAnd why shouldnât I?â you ask back just as softly.
Heâs silent for a long moment before saying, âSomeone might still be in the hallway.â
And thatâs what turns your anger into pure, unadulterated anguish. Because how can that be all he has to say to you right now?
âLet m-me out, Cassian,â you plead. âRight now.â
Cassianâs arm slowly drops down from where it barred you in, and you take the opportunity to run for your life.
Several months later in a solar system far, far away.
A contented sigh leaves your chest as you stare out into the darkness of open space; youâll never tire of this view. Stars hundreds of thousands of lightyears away, swirling galaxies above, behind, below you, and the quiet solitude of being the only living thing within a thousand parsecs.Â
The view is spectacular and reminds you how small you and all your problems really are. Joining Yellow Squadron had solved some issues and created new ones, but overall it was better than stewing in bitterness on Rogue One. Stars, you couldnât even imagine what that would have been like, how painful, having to sit co-pilot with Cassian only a few inches away physically, but galaxies away in all ways that mattered.
And hereâs one of said problems now. You roll your eyes in anticipatory agitation and flip the comms switch so that the Control Room operator can relay the message.
âIntelligence to Yellow Three. Come in Yellow Three,â they call.
âYellow Three to Intelligence. I read you â unfortunatelyâ you grumble the last word under your breath. With the mic open, youâre unsure if either Intelligence or Control Room heard you mutter to yourself, but they give no indication and you give no fucks. You know whoâs on the other side and you already know what theyâre going to say.
General Merrickâs voice echoes tinnily through your small cockpit. âBy all the Hells, Yellow Three. What were you thinking back there?â
You roll your eyes again and respond back. âI was thinking that we needed that intelligence and I was going to get it any way possible. And I did,â you emphasize, your hands gesticulating in a âso thereâ movement.
âYou werenât thinking, is the way it seemed. You were almost captured back thereâ Merrick retorts. Heâs not wrong, but heâs also not praising your ingenuity in how you squeezed out of the situation.
âBut I didnât,â you say, âand I got exactly what we were looking for.â
A deep sigh resonates around you as General Merrick gives up. You can almost see him using his index and thumb to apply pressure to the bridge of his nose in exasperation. âFine, Yellow Three. You succeeded in the most reckless way possible, but you still succeeded. Head back to Base for a mission debrief.â
You salute sarcastically, glad that the General canât see you. âRight away, sir.â You flip the comms off and return to lounging in your seat and enjoying the solitude for several more moments. Knowing General Merrick and many others are waiting for you, you lean upright and chart a course to Base.
Youâre not looking forward to the greeting party that awaits you.
***
You see two figures standing by your designated landing pad as you draw near the planetâs surface. You only really ever stop to refuel occasionally, so you havenât stepped foot outside your pad since you took off the day after Cassian⊠yeah. Since Cassian.. Your heart canât help but beat faster thinking that he could be one of the ones waiting down there to welcome you home. But as you draw closer, the mix of relief and heartbreak settles heavy in your stomach when you recognize Jyn and Bodhi.
You hover for a moment longer before touching down and powering off all equipment. You pop the cockpit hatch and drop the ladder, your feet finally touching ground seconds later. Bodhi immediately comes in for a hug, which you give, while Jyn hangs back in her typical âno-touchâ kind of way. You give them both a broad grin and drape your arms around both their shoulders and pull them along either side of you.
âItâs been a while, guys. Iâve missed you,â you say as you begin walking to Intelligence.
âWeâve also missed you,â Bodhi says and pats the hand you have draped over him. âItâs been a while.â
âItâs been more than âa whileâ,â Jyn grouses on your other side. You shake her quickly and then drop both arms, walking side by side with them into the main Base.
âIâve been busy,â you shrug.
âBusy being an idiot?â Jyn quips, âYeah, weâve heard.â
âOuch,â you laugh at her. âWho said that?â
âWho hasnât?â is Bodhiâs response. His face scrunches up as he quickly says, âsorry.â
You wave off his apology, not bothered in the slightest by the comment. Your behavior these past few months could be considered idiotic by some, but you consider it necessary. Anything to help the cause.
Anything to forget him.
You shake your head to dispel the thought and quicken your pace. The sooner you debrief, the sooner youâll be back in space.
âJust so you know,â Jyn begins as you round the corner of the hallway that houses the conference room youâll be entering, âCassian has a missionââ
âBuh buh buh buh!â You shush, hands covering your ears for a moment. âHe is none of my business.â
Jyn pulls a hand away from your head and chuckles. âNo, seriously. You need to hear this. Heâs already gotten permission from Merrick.â
âTo do what?â you respond as all three of you come to a stop outside the conference room door. You reach forward to activate the opening sequence and hear Jyn suck in a quick breath and feel both Jynâs and Bodhiâs hands on your arm to stop you. But itâs too late.Â
The door slides open and, by all the stars in the sky, the air leaves your lungs when you see Cassian Andor standing there just next to General Merrick.
Jynâs hands squeeze your arm subtly while Bodhi gives you a small pat. âGood luck,â one of them whispers in your ear before they leave you alone. All rational thought has fled your mind â all thatâs left is the intense need to run away. To run back to Yellow Three and disappear into the galaxy where you never, ever have to look this man in his face ever again.Â
But before you can even stumble backwards, the General says your name and waves you into the room. Your feet move on autopilot, not able to disobey the order. You walk woodenly into the darkened room and keep your eyes focused solely on General Merrick where he stands behind the projected holoimage of the planet youâd just left not long ago.Â
You vaguely understand that Merrick asks you to report on the mission and you feel your mouth moving along to whatever the hells youâre saying as you point out areas and buildings on the holo. But your bodyâs entire focus is pinned on Cassian as he analyzes your methods and outcomes, and you feel instantly when his anger flares â the tensing of his muscles, the grinding of his teeth, the heat of the fire burning in his eyes. You must have gotten to the part where your cover had been blown and instead of standing down and getting out of there, you decided to blast your way through.Â
And, like, yeah you know it wasnât the smartest decision in the galaxy, but if you hadnât done that then you wouldnât have gotten what you needed.
Cassianâs gaze burns a hole in your face from where he stands adjacent to you at the holotable. You just know heâs demanding you look him in the eyes as you detail all the myriad of ways you could have died â but didnât!-- without anyone but General Merrick being the wiser. You refuse his silent demand and wrap up your explanation by handing over a holodisk full of names,aliases, and locations necessary to further the Rebel Allianceâs agenda.
âI would say good work,â General Merrick begins, âbut that would imply I agree with your decisions.â You nod your head in understanding. Of course, not everyone was going to agree with your methods, but you knew in your heart that you did the right thing and he canât punish you for thatâ âWhich is why I will no longer be placing you on solo missions.â
Wait, wait, wait, waitâ âWhat?!â you squeak out. This canât be happening. You need these solo missions, theyâre the only things keeping you sane⊠Sane-ish, if your recklessness is taken into account.
âWeâve already discussed it,â Merrick signals between himself and Cassian, and you canât help but throw a quick glare over at the man you once shared a bed with. You donât keep your eyes on him long enough to see his reaction, though. âYou will be joining Captain Andor on his upcoming mission.â
âAnd who the kriff gave you the right to do that?â you spit out towards Cassian, focusing your glare fully on him now.
A mistake.
You see his dark, thick hair is mussed, likely manhandled by his own hands â or hers. The stubble on his cheeks is longer than youâve seen on him, making him look older than he is â maybe she likes it that way. His dry, cracked lips he always got this time of year on the base â or from kissing her. His dark eyes hollowed by shadows that stare intensely back into yours â ones she gets to see every night and every morning like you used to.
No matter where you look, Cassian is the same and wholly different to the man you loved and the man that broke your heart. The fact that he even has the audacity to stand in front of you now, to make decisions for you instead of with you, lights a fire deep in your chest. One that fuels the anger you already feel at the situation.
âA superior officer,â barks Merrick. âAnd one with your best interests in mind, since you seem incapable of keeping your own.â
You turn your head back to Merrick. âI refuse.â Your voice comes out soft, in direct contrast to the amount of anger you feel. Youâre holding back with all your might, but if you speak any louder you will unleash your full rage on the men standing in this room and that would not bode well for your position in the rebellion.
âNon-negotiable,â Cassian finally speaks up. âWe already have everything planned.â
The sound of his voice - low and cool - works you up even more. Instead of the longing and absolute misery it would otherwise incite, you funnel it ever deeper to fuel your anger. You canât be weak right now, you wonât allow it.
âThen Iâm done. Iâm done with my missions, and Iâm done with the Rebellion.â You turn around and begin walking towards the exit. Merrick calls your name harshly and you can hear Cassian whisper hushed words to him, likely telling him that heâll bring you back, that you didnât mean it.
But you did. If the only choices are to spend an unknown amount of time with Cassian Andor or leave the Alliance that has been your home for years, then Force be with you, because you donât know how youâd survive a moment longer in Cassianâs presence.
Youâve made your way out of the conference room and into the hallway. You can hear the echo of your footsteps as your boots thud across the floor. Your only mission now is to return to your quarters and gather your things, someone is sure to give you a ride off-planet soon enough.
Before you make it even halfway to your quarters, though, a hand grabs your arm and spins you around. Youâre now staring at Cassian, his body less than a standard length away and you canât breathe once again. His fingers burn where they hold your wrist and itâs all you can do to yank it away.Â
âDonât kriffing touch me,â you growl.
Cassian raises his hands in surrender, knowing that youâre in a dangerous mood right now. At least he remembers how to back off.Â
âSorry,â he says. âYou werenât hearing me call for you.â
âOh,â you laugh darkly, âIâm sorry, Captain Andor, superior officer.â You can see the slightest flinch from Cassian when you say this and it makes you feel good. âI didnât realize I was disobeying a direct order.â
âMaker, Y/N,â he scolds. âWhat are you doing right now? Why would you say youâre done with the Rebellion?â
You scoff in his face and cross your shaking arms - your wrist still pulses with the heat of his fingers. ââWhyâ? Do you seriously have to ask that question?â
He wipes his hand across his eyes and then uses it to run through his hair (so heâs the one that messed it up, not her). âWhen youâre not acting like yourself? Yes, I must ask the question,â he mocks, his own arms coming up and crossing his chest in a mirrored pose to yours.
Right now, you wished more than anything that your anger response was a twitching brow or a sweaty upper lip, but the angry tears are beginning to well up and you can do nothing to stop them. ââNot acting like myselfâ, huh? Well, at least you know me so well. I donât think I ever knew you, I guess.â The words burn your throat as you say them, because you did know him.The version of him he wanted you to know.
âThatâs notâ!â Cassian begins, but cuts himself off. He growls in frustration and drops his arms, starting back at you in vexation. Good. At least you still remember how to get under his skin. âI just â General Merrick wanted my opinion on your tactics these past months.â
âWhy?â You question, âHe thinks you know me so well because he found out that we fuckedââ
Cassian slaps a hand over your mouth and stares down the opposite end of the hallway. Footsteps echo along the corridor and Cassian grabs you once again and throws the both of you into a nearby closet.
âI said to get your godsdamned hands off of meââ you spit at him as he closes the door behind you. The overhead light flickers on and the shadows it casts on his face make him appear so weary that he could collapse at any moment. You harden your heart against the pang of sadness he brings about.
âFrom what I saw from our past missions,â Cassian answers your first question, âcompared to your recent solo ones. And yes, I donât think youâre a good candidate for another right now.â
âThen why the hells would you recommend me for one of yours?â You sneer.
âBecause-â Cassian heaves a deep sigh. âBecause Iâd at least be able to watch your back this way.â
âWhy do you care?!â you nearly shout. âWho are you to judge my mission performance? And who are you to watch my back? Youâve already stabbed me there once, Andor, Iâm not going to let you do it again.â
Your chest heaves with the vitriol bubbling in your veins, and your eyes are watering heavily with the pain and anger of the conversation. You wipe your eyes with the palms of your hands, but the tears just fall right back over. âYou left me!â you cry. âYou want answers now for whatâs wrong with me? Well thatâs too damn bad, isnât it? Because the answer is you.â
You make a move to storm out of the closet, but Cassian raises his arm to block your way. You groan in frustration and pain at the situation he has dragged you into, but you canât bring yourself to touch him again. It might just break the last shred of control you have.
âDonât,â Cassian whispers. âDonât leave right now.â
âAnd why shouldnât I?â you ask back just as softly.
Heâs silent for a long moment before saying, âSomeone might still be in the hallway.â
And thatâs what turns your anger into pure, unadulterated anguish. Because how can that be all he has to say to you right now?
âLet m-me out, Cassian,â you plead. âRight now.â
Cassianâs arm slowly drops down from where it barred you in, and you take the opportunity to run for your life.
Several months later in a solar system far, far away.
A contented sigh leaves your chest as you stare out into the darkness of open space; youâll never tire of this view. Stars hundreds of thousands of lightyears away, swirling galaxies above, behind, below you, and the quiet solitude of being the only living thing within a thousand parsecs.Â
The view is spectacular and reminds you how small you and all your problems really are. Joining Yellow Squadron had solved some issues and created new ones, but overall it was better than stewing in bitterness on Rogue One. Stars, you couldnât even imagine what that would have been like, how painful, having to sit co-pilot with Cassian only a few inches away physically, but galaxies away in all ways that mattered.
And hereâs one of said problems now. You roll your eyes in anticipatory agitation and flip the comms switch so that the Control Room operator can relay the message.
âIntelligence to Yellow Three. Come in Yellow Three,â they call.
âYellow Three to Intelligence. I read you â unfortunatelyâ you grumble the last word under your breath. With the mic open, youâre unsure if either Intelligence or Control Room heard you mutter to yourself, but they give no indication and you give no fucks. You know whoâs on the other side and you already know what theyâre going to say.
General Merrickâs voice echoes tinnily through your small cockpit. âBy all the Hells, Yellow Three. What were you thinking back there?â
You roll your eyes again and respond back. âI was thinking that we needed that intelligence and I was going to get it any way possible. And I did,â you emphasize, your hands gesticulating in a âso thereâ movement.
âYou werenât thinking, is the way it seemed. You were almost captured back thereâ Merrick retorts. Heâs not wrong, but heâs also not praising your ingenuity in how you squeezed out of the situation.
âBut I didnât,â you say, âand I got exactly what we were looking for.â
A deep sigh resonates around you as General Merrick gives up. You can almost see him using his index and thumb to apply pressure to the bridge of his nose in exasperation. âFine, Yellow Three. You succeeded in the most reckless way possible, but you still succeeded. Head back to Base for a mission debrief.â
You salute sarcastically, glad that the General canât see you. âRight away, sir.â You flip the comms off and return to lounging in your seat and enjoying the solitude for several more moments. Knowing General Merrick and many others are waiting for you, you lean upright and chart a course to Base.
Youâre not looking forward to the greeting party that awaits you.
***
You see two figures standing by your designated landing pad as you draw near the planetâs surface. You only really ever stop to refuel occasionally, so you havenât stepped foot outside your pad since you took off the day after Cassian⊠yeah. Since Cassian.. Your heart canât help but beat faster thinking that he could be one of the ones waiting down there to welcome you home. But as you draw closer, the mix of relief and heartbreak settles heavy in your stomach when you recognize Jyn and Bodhi.
You hover for a moment longer before touching down and powering off all equipment. You pop the cockpit hatch and drop the ladder, your feet finally touching ground seconds later. Bodhi immediately comes in for a hug, which you give, while Jyn hangs back in her typical âno-touchâ kind of way. You give them both a broad grin and drape your arms around both their shoulders and pull them along either side of you.
âItâs been a while, guys. Iâve missed you,â you say as you begin walking to Intelligence.
âWeâve also missed you,â Bodhi says and pats the hand you have draped over him. âItâs been a while.â
âItâs been more than âa whileâ,â Jyn grouses on your other side. You shake her quickly and then drop both arms, walking side by side with them into the main Base.
âIâve been busy,â you shrug.
âBusy being an idiot?â Jyn quips, âYeah, weâve heard.â
âOuch,â you laugh at her. âWho said that?â
âWho hasnât?â is Bodhiâs response. His face scrunches up as he quickly says, âsorry.â
You wave off his apology, not bothered in the slightest by the comment. Your behavior these past few months could be considered idiotic by some, but you consider it necessary. Anything to help the cause.
Anything to forget him.
You shake your head to dispel the thought and quicken your pace. The sooner you debrief, the sooner youâll be back in space.
âJust so you know,â Jyn begins as you round the corner of the hallway that houses the conference room youâll be entering, âCassian has a missionââ
âBuh buh buh buh!â You shush, hands covering your ears for a moment. âHe is none of my business.â
Jyn pulls a hand away from your head and chuckles. âNo, seriously. You need to hear this. Heâs already gotten permission from Merrick.â
âTo do what?â you respond as all three of you come to a stop outside the conference room door. You reach forward to activate the opening sequence and hear Jyn suck in a quick breath and feel both Jynâs and Bodhiâs hands on your arm to stop you. But itâs too late.Â
The door slides open and, by all the stars in the sky, the air leaves your lungs when you see Cassian Andor standing there just next to General Merrick.
Jynâs hands squeeze your arm subtly while Bodhi gives you a small pat. âGood luck,â one of them whispers in your ear before they leave you alone. All rational thought has fled your mind â all thatâs left is the intense need to run away. To run back to Yellow Three and disappear into the galaxy where you never, ever have to look this man in his face ever again.Â
But before you can even stumble backwards, the General says your name and waves you into the room. Your feet move on autopilot, not able to disobey the order. You walk woodenly into the darkened room and keep your eyes focused solely on General Merrick where he stands behind the projected holoimage of the planet youâd just left not long ago.Â
You vaguely understand that Merrick asks you to report on the mission and you feel your mouth moving along to whatever the hells youâre saying as you point out areas and buildings on the holo. But your bodyâs entire focus is pinned on Cassian as he analyzes your methods and outcomes, and you feel instantly when his anger flares â the tensing of his muscles, the grinding of his teeth, the heat of the fire burning in his eyes. You must have gotten to the part where your cover had been blown and instead of standing down and getting out of there, you decided to blast your way through.Â
And, like, yeah you know it wasnât the smartest decision in the galaxy, but if you hadnât done that then you wouldnât have gotten what you needed.
Cassianâs gaze burns a hole in your face from where he stands adjacent to you at the holotable. You just know heâs demanding you look him in the eyes as you detail all the myriad of ways you could have died â but didnât!-- without anyone but General Merrick being the wiser. You refuse his silent demand and wrap up your explanation by handing over a holodisk full of names,aliases, and locations necessary to further the Rebel Allianceâs agenda.
âI would say good work,â General Merrick begins, âbut that would imply I agree with your decisions.â You nod your head in understanding. Of course, not everyone was going to agree with your methods, but you knew in your heart that you did the right thing and he canât punish you for thatâ âWhich is why I will no longer be placing you on solo missions.â
Wait, wait, wait, waitâ âWhat?!â you squeak out. This canât be happening. You need these solo missions, theyâre the only things keeping you sane⊠Sane-ish, if your recklessness is taken into account.
âWeâve already discussed it,â Merrick signals between himself and Cassian, and you canât help but throw a quick glare over at the man you once shared a bed with. You donât keep your eyes on him long enough to see his reaction, though. âYou will be joining Captain Andor on his upcoming mission.â
âAnd who the kriff gave you the right to do that?â you spit out towards Cassian, focusing your glare fully on him now.
A mistake.
You see his dark, thick hair is mussed, likely manhandled by his own hands â or hers. The stubble on his cheeks is longer than youâve seen on him, making him look older than he is â maybe she likes it that way. His dry, cracked lips he always got this time of year on the base â or from kissing her. His dark eyes hollowed by shadows that stare intensely back into yours â ones she gets to see every night and every morning like you used to.
No matter where you look, Cassian is the same and wholly different to the man you loved and the man that broke your heart. The fact that he even has the audacity to stand in front of you now, to make decisions for you instead of with you, lights a fire deep in your chest. One that fuels the anger you already feel at the situation.
âA superior officer,â barks Merrick. âAnd one with your best interests in mind, since you seem incapable of keeping your own.â
You turn your head back to Merrick. âI refuse.â Your voice comes out soft, in direct contrast to the amount of anger you feel. Youâre holding back with all your might, but if you speak any louder you will unleash your full rage on the men standing in this room and that would not bode well for your position in the rebellion.
âNon-negotiable,â Cassian finally speaks up. âWe already have everything planned.â
The sound of his voice - low and cool - works you up even more. Instead of the longing and absolute misery it would otherwise incite, you funnel it ever deeper to fuel your anger. You canât be weak right now, you wonât allow it.
âThen Iâm done. Iâm done with my missions, and Iâm done with the Rebellion.â You turn around and begin walking towards the exit. Merrick calls your name harshly and you can hear Cassian whisper hushed words to him, likely telling him that heâll bring you back, that you didnât mean it.
But you did. If the only choices are to spend an unknown amount of time with Cassian Andor or leave the Alliance that has been your home for years, then Force be with you, because you donât know how youâd survive a moment longer in Cassianâs presence.
Youâve made your way out of the conference room and into the hallway. You can hear the echo of your footsteps as your boots thud across the floor. Your only mission now is to return to your quarters and gather your things, someone is sure to give you a ride off-planet soon enough.
Before you make it even halfway to your quarters, though, a hand grabs your arm and spins you around. Youâre now staring at Cassian, his body less than a standard length away and you canât breathe once again. His fingers burn where they hold your wrist and itâs all you can do to yank it away.Â
âDonât kriffing touch me,â you growl.
Cassian raises his hands in surrender, knowing that youâre in a dangerous mood right now. At least he remembers how to back off.Â
âSorry,â he says. âYou werenât hearing me call for you.â
âOh,â you laugh darkly, âIâm sorry, Captain Andor, superior officer.â You can see the slightest flinch from Cassian when you say this and it makes you feel good. âI didnât realize I was disobeying a direct order.â
âMaker, Y/N,â he scolds. âWhat are you doing right now? Why would you say youâre done with the Rebellion?â
You scoff in his face and cross your shaking arms - your wrist still pulses with the heat of his fingers. ââWhyâ? Do you seriously have to ask that question?â
He wipes his hand across his eyes and then uses it to run through his hair (so heâs the one that messed it up, not her). âWhen youâre not acting like yourself? Yes, I must ask the question,â he mocks, his own arms coming up and crossing his chest in a mirrored pose to yours.
Right now, you wished more than anything that your anger response was a twitching brow or a sweaty upper lip, but the angry tears are beginning to well up and you can do nothing to stop them. ââNot acting like myselfâ, huh? Well, at least you know me so well. I donât think I ever knew you, I guess.â The words burn your throat as you say them, because you did know him.The version of him he wanted you to know.
âThatâs notâ!â Cassian begins, but cuts himself off. He growls in frustration and drops his arms, starting back at you in vexation. Good. At least you still remember how to get under his skin. âI just â General Merrick wanted my opinion on your tactics these past months.â
âWhy?â You question, âHe thinks you know me so well because he found out that we fuckedââ
Cassian slaps a hand over your mouth and stares down the opposite end of the hallway. Footsteps echo along the corridor and Cassian grabs you once again and throws the both of you into a nearby closet.
âI said to get your godsdamned hands off of meââ you spit at him as he closes the door behind you. The overhead light flickers on and the shadows it casts on his face make him appear so weary that he could collapse at any moment. You harden your heart against the pang of sadness he brings about.
âFrom what I saw from our past missions,â Cassian answers your first question, âcompared to your recent solo ones. And yes, I donât think youâre a good candidate for another right now.â
âThen why the hells would you recommend me for one of yours?â You sneer.
âBecause-â Cassian heaves a deep sigh. âBecause Iâd at least be able to watch your back this way.â
âWhy do you care?!â you nearly shout. âWho are you to judge my mission performance? And who are you to watch my back? Youâve already stabbed me there once, Andor, Iâm not going to let you do it again.â
Your chest heaves with the vitriol bubbling in your veins, and your eyes are watering heavily with the pain and anger of the conversation. You wipe your eyes with the palms of your hands, but the tears just fall right back over. âYou left me!â you cry. âYou want answers now for whatâs wrong with me? Well thatâs too damn bad, isnât it? Because the answer is you.â
You make a move to storm out of the closet, but Cassian raises his arm to block your way. You groan in frustration and pain at the situation he has dragged you into, but you canât bring yourself to touch him again. It might just break the last shred of control you have.
âDonât,â Cassian whispers. âDonât leave right now.â
âAnd why shouldnât I?â you ask back just as softly.
Heâs silent for a long moment before saying, âSomeone might still be in the hallway.â
And thatâs what turns your anger into pure, unadulterated anguish. Because how can that be all he has to say to you right now?
âLet m-me out, Cassian,â you plead. âRight now.â
Cassianâs arm slowly drops down from where it barred you in, and you take the opportunity to run for your life.
Based on the songs Parachute by Hayley Williams and Lost My Faith by Johnny Huynh!
Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader (gn/no description)
Word count: 2,500
About: You would have done anything for Cassian - had on a number of occasions. But how can you still love him when he betrays all the love and faith you'd placed in him?
Tags: Angst, betrayal, no happy ending (yet?)
Was it ever love? You canât help but think as you stare blankly at your lover standing half a flight field away from you. You see the broad strokes of the image, not the minute details: his stubbled jaw, his hands in her spiraled hair, his lips locked in a sloppy kiss.
Logically, youâre sure thereâs something youâre missing. You and Cassian were the ones that were together. Even if you had kept your relationship as low-key as you could. No one besides the Rogue One crew knew, and that was only because K2 was too observant for his own good. Heâd stated there was âa 98.7% chanceâ that you and Cassian had spent the prior night together before the mission several moon cycles ago. Unable to tell him he was wrong, Cassian instead told everyone to keep it between the group. You didnât mind, at the time: itâs not like there was a line of admirers following him. Cassian was not someone you had to worry about, jealousy wise.Â
Or, he wasnât, you guess.Â
Heâs stand-offish and rude, curt and sometimes mean, especially to beings he didnât know or didnât like. It took many, many missions for Cassian to see you as more than a hindrance, as someone who was able to keep themselves safe during a blaster fight but also knew enough not to get into unnecessary ones.Â
It took many, many, many more late night conversations, peacefully silent hyperspace jumps, and cantina meals together before Cassian even mentioned that he might have feelings for you. He wasnât a shy man, but he was reserved in his feelings and who he decided to let into his life due to all the loss heâs suffered.Â
But Cassian is a million other things, as well. Kind and gentle: soft caresses of your cheeks, gentle bites on your bottom lip, calloused fingers trailing up your naked spine. Passionate without fear of burning up in his fire, knowing that he was only angry with himself when he yells after a mission because he couldnât keep you safe enough. Thought that the scraped hands and knees were all his fault and that he should have done things differently, done things better, that way you never would have been injured. Reticent after a long mission, curled up around you with his ear pressed over your heart just to hear its steady beat.
You would like it if the whole of the Rebellion knew the two of you were together, but Cassian was a private person and you respected that. Or, maybe he just wanted to keep you private. So you canât help but wonder if all his quiet, unassuming love was real at all. If youâd only felt drugged on the way he made you feel special and had you missing all the signs that he wasnât reciprocating.That might make the scene in front of you make more sense. Any sense at all, really.
But that canât be the truth. Youâve spent years with the man, knew him like the back of your own hand: how he took his caf, the contentment he felt with your fingers in his hair, that the standard issue bedding was the softest heâd slept on since Niamos.Â
Cassian was everything you had ever wanted in a partner, both professionally and personally. Youâd fallen hard. Leaped without donning a parachute. All because you believed he was always waiting below you with open arms.
But as you spiral inside the four walls that housed your and Cassianâs âloveâ, you canât help but feel haunted by the past, wondering how the faith you had placed in Cassian could have been shattered this thoroughly. As if heâd taken your heart in his hands and crushed it.
Maybe he could explain it all away, you just needed to give him time. Itâs obviously for a mission, just to keep his cover. But⊠no. Heâd literally just returned from a mission, Rogue 1 parked right behind him. And youâre on a Rebellion base, who would he need to fool?Â
You think you could have given him the benefit of the doubt, maybe heâd had his eyes closed and thought the human woman currently attacking his mouth was you. Maybe he was under some kind of hallucinogenic.
Even so, you knew those were both impossible scenarios when he broke the kiss and stroked the face of the woman in front of him before making eye contact with you beyond her shoulder. His eyes held no affection, only a steely resolve that made your stomach plummet. Youâd seen that look on his face many times before - like when he and Jyn were collapsed on the beach right before you swooped in and saved them before Scarif imploded.Â
It was a look that said heâd made his decision and damn the consequences.
Nausea bubbles up your throat and you swallow hard to keep it down. The effort forces the bubbles behind your eyes and you canât keep the tears from filling your lashline. Blinking hurriedly to keep them from falling, you turn abruptly and tear back towards your shared room. You leave the runway, haunted by the ghost of what youâd just witnessed.
â
You had honestly expected him to arrive earlier than this. Heâd never left you sitting on your bed alone for this long even after your nastiest fights. You sit at the edge, covers still amiss from this morning when youâd woken up, waiting for him to come back from this week-long mission. No holos are playing for background noise, the lights and sound too much for your frazzled nerves and swimming thoughts.
Youâve replayed the kiss over, and over, and over again in your mind. Every time imagining a different look on Cassianâs face. A different outcome where he pushed her away and ran to you to explain. Fantasizing that he actually cared enough to tell you what the hell was going on rather than letting you fester by yourself in silence.
Youâd had many calls from your friends, with all of them trying to stop by in groups or one by one to get you to open the door. But you couldnât face them. What could you say? That you were stupid and foolish to think you were allowed to be happy with him? That you were so blindsided by this development that youâve had no less than two panic attacks, panting on the cold tile of the refresher floor?
You had nothing to say to explain to them because Cassian had not explained anything. Youâre just waiting for him to come and tell you something that made sense.
Unfortunately, finally, you hear the code being pressed into the keypad outside your accommodation. Heavy footfalls stumble in, and thick boots clunk to the floor, landing somewhere against a wall. You can smell the spirits before you even see Cassianâs face.
Your reflex is to stand up and head towards him to help remove the jacket heâs struggling with, but you remind yourself that Cassian has allowed you to sit here in misery while he was off drinking himself into this stupor. You reclaim your place on the mattress as you watch him fling the jacket onto the ground.
He stands before you, slightly out of breath and with eyes practically floating in his skull with how much heâs had to drink. You canât think of a reason that he felt the need to drink when it should have been you.
You raise your head and meet his eyes, your hands clenched uncomfortably tight in your lap to the point that several fingers start going numb. But youâll take numb over the pain youâre in right now. And the only way to stop the pain, stop the confusion, is for Cassian to speak.
But youâre scared.
Youâre terrified of the words that could come out of his mouth, so you donât open yours to ask the questions that have been on the tip of your tongue since the incident: what happened to us? Why were you kissing someone else when it should have been me? What did I do to deserve this?
The answer to that last question is, of course, rhetorical; youâve done a lot of bad things to have karma rebound like she has. Being a member of the Rebellion for as long as you have, youâve cheated, fought, stole, and even murdered in the name of the cause. You had justifications for each and every one, but the Force doesnât always weigh your intentions versus the outcomes.
But Cassian has the same blood on his hands, so how could those be reasons for him to do what heâs done? With anger finally making an appearance in your trembling fingers, you finally ask the question:
âWhy?â Your raspy voice grates against your sore throat.
âWhat do you mean âwhyâ, princesa?â Cassian replies.Â
The nickname heâs called you since being together tears its way into your wounded self. How can he still call you that? Itâs cruel, and youâve never known him to be so cruel.
âYou know what I mean.â Your tone is short, in direct contrast to his own drawn out, sloppy words. âWho is she?â
Cassian raises his face to the ceiling and blows out a long, alcohol-thick, breath. âAh, mi amore. Sheâsââ
ââMi amoreâ?â you question, breathlessly. And again, more forcefully. ââMi amoreâ?!â You stand suddenly, the anger surging from your fingertips and straight to your heart. A full body tremor takes over and you see red. âStars, Cassian! Who the hell is she? You leave me for a week and suddenly you have a new amore?â Your voice is explosive with the force of your anger, but the dejection returns just as swiftly. You add quietly, âOne that youâre not afraid to show off?â
And thatâs what hurts the most â that heâs willing to keep you a dirty secret from the rest of the galaxy while he parades her around in front of every being on the Rebel base. Countless nights spent creeping along empty corridors and hiding behind walls anytime you heard footsteps, sitting the standard amount of space away from each other in the cantina while every other couple shared seats or laps, the withdrawal of his hand whenever another person entered the room. Your heart convulses and contorts itself, wanting to evict itself from your body in order to lay on the ground at Cassianâs feet so he can finish the job heâs started.
âMy mission was to save her from Vaderâs forces. Sheâd been captured by stormtroopers and held in interrogation for information she holds. We need her.â He explains clearly, even with the spirits flowing through his veins.
âAnd you kissed her becauseâŠ?â you ask.
âBecause I had to,â he responds bluntly.
âHad to?â you scoff, tears welling in your eyes once again. âBecause you love her?â
Silence is the only answer you receive to your questions. Cassianâs gaze remains fixed on a point just beyond your shoulder, his jaw clenched tight.
You nod your head sadly, understanding dawning in your mind. âYouâve met her before. Sheâs someone you knew before me.â
âYes.â
âAnd you were together?â you continue.
He nods.
âAnd youâre together again. Now?âÂ
â... yes.â he sighs.
You close your eyes as tears fall rapidly. You stutter in a breath, lips quivering with the effort of holding back a sob. âAnd you didnât have the decency to break up with me first? You had to make me watch you kiss someone else?â you cry.
âIâm sorry, princesa.â Cassianâs voice trembles as he speaks. âShe is someone we cannot lose.â
âAnd I couldnât lose you, Cassian!â you sob. âIâve been falling for you since we met - I jumped without looking down because I thought you would be there to catch me!â You wipe your hands harshly across your face, the tear stains burning as they trail past your cheeks. âI had no parachute. I jumped, I fell, and now Iâve hit the ground.â
âMi amoââ he starts.
âNo!â you shout. âYouâve destroyed me, Cassian. After all weâve been through, all the trust I put into you and into us, and this is how you treat me?â Sobs wrack your frame as you encircle your arms around yourself, trying to hold the shattered pieces together. âDid you ever even love me at all?â
âOf course I did,â Cassian cries, raising a hand as if to grab your arm. You flinch back and stumble down onto the bed where you started.
âDonât say that like itâs obvious, Cassian.â you beg. âDonât act like anything youâve done today hasnât been a complete betrayal of my trust in you.â
His hand drops down to his side and both hands clench into tight fists. âIâm sorry,â he repeats.
You shake your head several times. Pain vibrating its way from your heart and giving you shivers so violent your teeth chatter. âIf you have any respect for me, youâll leave me alone.â you say.
âPrincesa,â Cassian says, slumping to the ground on his knees. âThereâs more to this, you have to believe me. I can explainââ
You interrupt again. âThen explain.â
He hesitates once again and itâs more than you can take. âI canât right now.â
âGet out, Cassian.â
Cassian calls your name softly. âPlease, youâre shivering. Let me hold you, I can help.â
âNow. Leave now.â your words come out as a growl between your teeth and you open your eyes and pierce your gaze into Cassianâs stricken face.
He opens his mouth slightly, as if starting to say something, but closes it just as quickly. He nods shakily and rises to his feet, using the nearby furniture to help him up. Heâs more unsteady on his feet now than he was when he walked in. Cassian bends down to pick up his discarded boots and makes his way to the exit. He pauses after opening the door.
âI promise thereâs more to this,â he sighs. âYou and IâŠâ
You donât respond and Cassianâs shoulders slump. His sock-clad feet walk into the hallway and the door whooshes shut behind him.
You collapse down onto your side and stare out your transparisteel window at the base beyond. Trees sway in a brisk wind and dark clouds cover the sky. You reach out to the nightstand and grab your holodeck. After a brief voice call with General Merrick, youâve successfully convinced him to send you off planet for the foreseeable future.
Rain begins to fall outside your bedroom, fat drops striking the transparisteel and rolling down, down, down off the bottom ledge. The trees beyond whip violently and the leaves are all soon soaked in the precipitation. It washes away the life youâd been living with Cassian and brings with it one where you are no longer part of a whole.Â
You are one, and you are alone.
A/N: May end up writing a sequel if this gets enough love. Something to the tune of Blue by VOILĂ đ
Based on the songs Parachute by Hayley Williams and Lost My Faith by Johnny Huynh!
Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader (gn/no description)
Word count: 2,500
About: You would have done anything for Cassian - had on a number of occasions. But how can you still love him when he betrays all the love and faith you'd placed in him?
Tags: Angst, betrayal, no happy ending (yet?)
Was it ever love? You canât help but think as you stare blankly at your lover standing half a flight field away from you. You see the broad strokes of the image, not the minute details: his stubbled jaw, his hands in her spiraled hair, his lips locked in a sloppy kiss.
Logically, youâre sure thereâs something youâre missing. You and Cassian were the ones that were together. Even if you had kept your relationship as low-key as you could. No one besides the Rogue One crew knew, and that was only because K2 was too observant for his own good. Heâd stated there was âa 98.7% chanceâ that you and Cassian had spent the prior night together before the mission several moon cycles ago. Unable to tell him he was wrong, Cassian instead told everyone to keep it between the group. You didnât mind, at the time: itâs not like there was a line of admirers following him. Cassian was not someone you had to worry about, jealousy wise.Â
Or, he wasnât, you guess.Â
Heâs stand-offish and rude, curt and sometimes mean, especially to beings he didnât know or didnât like. It took many, many missions for Cassian to see you as more than a hindrance, as someone who was able to keep themselves safe during a blaster fight but also knew enough not to get into unnecessary ones.Â
It took many, many, many more late night conversations, peacefully silent hyperspace jumps, and cantina meals together before Cassian even mentioned that he might have feelings for you. He wasnât a shy man, but he was reserved in his feelings and who he decided to let into his life due to all the loss heâs suffered.Â
But Cassian is a million other things, as well. Kind and gentle: soft caresses of your cheeks, gentle bites on your bottom lip, calloused fingers trailing up your naked spine. Passionate without fear of burning up in his fire, knowing that he was only angry with himself when he yells after a mission because he couldnât keep you safe enough. Thought that the scraped hands and knees were all his fault and that he should have done things differently, done things better, that way you never would have been injured. Reticent after a long mission, curled up around you with his ear pressed over your heart just to hear its steady beat.
You would like it if the whole of the Rebellion knew the two of you were together, but Cassian was a private person and you respected that. Or, maybe he just wanted to keep you private. So you canât help but wonder if all his quiet, unassuming love was real at all. If youâd only felt drugged on the way he made you feel special and had you missing all the signs that he wasnât reciprocating.That might make the scene in front of you make more sense. Any sense at all, really.
But that canât be the truth. Youâve spent years with the man, knew him like the back of your own hand: how he took his caf, the contentment he felt with your fingers in his hair, that the standard issue bedding was the softest heâd slept on since Niamos.Â
Cassian was everything you had ever wanted in a partner, both professionally and personally. Youâd fallen hard. Leaped without donning a parachute. All because you believed he was always waiting below you with open arms.
But as you spiral inside the four walls that housed your and Cassianâs âloveâ, you canât help but feel haunted by the past, wondering how the faith you had placed in Cassian could have been shattered this thoroughly. As if heâd taken your heart in his hands and crushed it.
Maybe he could explain it all away, you just needed to give him time. Itâs obviously for a mission, just to keep his cover. But⊠no. Heâd literally just returned from a mission, Rogue 1 parked right behind him. And youâre on a Rebellion base, who would he need to fool?Â
You think you could have given him the benefit of the doubt, maybe heâd had his eyes closed and thought the human woman currently attacking his mouth was you. Maybe he was under some kind of hallucinogenic.
Even so, you knew those were both impossible scenarios when he broke the kiss and stroked the face of the woman in front of him before making eye contact with you beyond her shoulder. His eyes held no affection, only a steely resolve that made your stomach plummet. Youâd seen that look on his face many times before - like when he and Jyn were collapsed on the beach right before you swooped in and saved them before Scarif imploded.Â
It was a look that said heâd made his decision and damn the consequences.
Nausea bubbles up your throat and you swallow hard to keep it down. The effort forces the bubbles behind your eyes and you canât keep the tears from filling your lashline. Blinking hurriedly to keep them from falling, you turn abruptly and tear back towards your shared room. You leave the runway, haunted by the ghost of what youâd just witnessed.
â
You had honestly expected him to arrive earlier than this. Heâd never left you sitting on your bed alone for this long even after your nastiest fights. You sit at the edge, covers still amiss from this morning when youâd woken up, waiting for him to come back from this week-long mission. No holos are playing for background noise, the lights and sound too much for your frazzled nerves and swimming thoughts.
Youâve replayed the kiss over, and over, and over again in your mind. Every time imagining a different look on Cassianâs face. A different outcome where he pushed her away and ran to you to explain. Fantasizing that he actually cared enough to tell you what the hell was going on rather than letting you fester by yourself in silence.
Youâd had many calls from your friends, with all of them trying to stop by in groups or one by one to get you to open the door. But you couldnât face them. What could you say? That you were stupid and foolish to think you were allowed to be happy with him? That you were so blindsided by this development that youâve had no less than two panic attacks, panting on the cold tile of the refresher floor?
You had nothing to say to explain to them because Cassian had not explained anything. Youâre just waiting for him to come and tell you something that made sense.
Unfortunately, finally, you hear the code being pressed into the keypad outside your accommodation. Heavy footfalls stumble in, and thick boots clunk to the floor, landing somewhere against a wall. You can smell the spirits before you even see Cassianâs face.
Your reflex is to stand up and head towards him to help remove the jacket heâs struggling with, but you remind yourself that Cassian has allowed you to sit here in misery while he was off drinking himself into this stupor. You reclaim your place on the mattress as you watch him fling the jacket onto the ground.
He stands before you, slightly out of breath and with eyes practically floating in his skull with how much heâs had to drink. You canât think of a reason that he felt the need to drink when it should have been you.
You raise your head and meet his eyes, your hands clenched uncomfortably tight in your lap to the point that several fingers start going numb. But youâll take numb over the pain youâre in right now. And the only way to stop the pain, stop the confusion, is for Cassian to speak.
But youâre scared.
Youâre terrified of the words that could come out of his mouth, so you donât open yours to ask the questions that have been on the tip of your tongue since the incident: what happened to us? Why were you kissing someone else when it should have been me? What did I do to deserve this?
The answer to that last question is, of course, rhetorical; youâve done a lot of bad things to have karma rebound like she has. Being a member of the Rebellion for as long as you have, youâve cheated, fought, stole, and even murdered in the name of the cause. You had justifications for each and every one, but the Force doesnât always weigh your intentions versus the outcomes.
But Cassian has the same blood on his hands, so how could those be reasons for him to do what heâs done? With anger finally making an appearance in your trembling fingers, you finally ask the question:
âWhy?â Your raspy voice grates against your sore throat.
âWhat do you mean âwhyâ, princesa?â Cassian replies.Â
The nickname heâs called you since being together tears its way into your wounded self. How can he still call you that? Itâs cruel, and youâve never known him to be so cruel.
âYou know what I mean.â Your tone is short, in direct contrast to his own drawn out, sloppy words. âWho is she?â
Cassian raises his face to the ceiling and blows out a long, alcohol-thick, breath. âAh, mi amore. Sheâsââ
ââMi amoreâ?â you question, breathlessly. And again, more forcefully. ââMi amoreâ?!â You stand suddenly, the anger surging from your fingertips and straight to your heart. A full body tremor takes over and you see red. âStars, Cassian! Who the hell is she? You leave me for a week and suddenly you have a new amore?â Your voice is explosive with the force of your anger, but the dejection returns just as swiftly. You add quietly, âOne that youâre not afraid to show off?â
And thatâs what hurts the most â that heâs willing to keep you a dirty secret from the rest of the galaxy while he parades her around in front of every being on the Rebel base. Countless nights spent creeping along empty corridors and hiding behind walls anytime you heard footsteps, sitting the standard amount of space away from each other in the cantina while every other couple shared seats or laps, the withdrawal of his hand whenever another person entered the room. Your heart convulses and contorts itself, wanting to evict itself from your body in order to lay on the ground at Cassianâs feet so he can finish the job heâs started.
âMy mission was to save her from Vaderâs forces. Sheâd been captured by stormtroopers and held in interrogation for information she holds. We need her.â He explains clearly, even with the spirits flowing through his veins.
âAnd you kissed her becauseâŠ?â you ask.
âBecause I had to,â he responds bluntly.
âHad to?â you scoff, tears welling in your eyes once again. âBecause you love her?â
Silence is the only answer you receive to your questions. Cassianâs gaze remains fixed on a point just beyond your shoulder, his jaw clenched tight.
You nod your head sadly, understanding dawning in your mind. âYouâve met her before. Sheâs someone you knew before me.â
âYes.â
âAnd you were together?â you continue.
He nods.
âAnd youâre together again. Now?âÂ
â... yes.â he sighs.
You close your eyes as tears fall rapidly. You stutter in a breath, lips quivering with the effort of holding back a sob. âAnd you didnât have the decency to break up with me first? You had to make me watch you kiss someone else?â you cry.
âIâm sorry, princesa.â Cassianâs voice trembles as he speaks. âShe is someone we cannot lose.â
âAnd I couldnât lose you, Cassian!â you sob. âIâve been falling for you since we met - I jumped without looking down because I thought you would be there to catch me!â You wipe your hands harshly across your face, the tear stains burning as they trail past your cheeks. âI had no parachute. I jumped, I fell, and now Iâve hit the ground.â
âMi amoââ he starts.
âNo!â you shout. âYouâve destroyed me, Cassian. After all weâve been through, all the trust I put into you and into us, and this is how you treat me?â Sobs wrack your frame as you encircle your arms around yourself, trying to hold the shattered pieces together. âDid you ever even love me at all?â
âOf course I did,â Cassian cries, raising a hand as if to grab your arm. You flinch back and stumble down onto the bed where you started.
âDonât say that like itâs obvious, Cassian.â you beg. âDonât act like anything youâve done today hasnât been a complete betrayal of my trust in you.â
His hand drops down to his side and both hands clench into tight fists. âIâm sorry,â he repeats.
You shake your head several times. Pain vibrating its way from your heart and giving you shivers so violent your teeth chatter. âIf you have any respect for me, youâll leave me alone.â you say.
âPrincesa,â Cassian says, slumping to the ground on his knees. âThereâs more to this, you have to believe me. I can explainââ
You interrupt again. âThen explain.â
He hesitates once again and itâs more than you can take. âI canât right now.â
âGet out, Cassian.â
Cassian calls your name softly. âPlease, youâre shivering. Let me hold you, I can help.â
âNow. Leave now.â your words come out as a growl between your teeth and you open your eyes and pierce your gaze into Cassianâs stricken face.
He opens his mouth slightly, as if starting to say something, but closes it just as quickly. He nods shakily and rises to his feet, using the nearby furniture to help him up. Heâs more unsteady on his feet now than he was when he walked in. Cassian bends down to pick up his discarded boots and makes his way to the exit. He pauses after opening the door.
âI promise thereâs more to this,â he sighs. âYou and IâŠâ
You donât respond and Cassianâs shoulders slump. His sock-clad feet walk into the hallway and the door whooshes shut behind him.
You collapse down onto your side and stare out your transparisteel window at the base beyond. Trees sway in a brisk wind and dark clouds cover the sky. You reach out to the nightstand and grab your holodeck. After a brief voice call with General Merrick, youâve successfully convinced him to send you off planet for the foreseeable future.
Rain begins to fall outside your bedroom, fat drops striking the transparisteel and rolling down, down, down off the bottom ledge. The trees beyond whip violently and the leaves are all soon soaked in the precipitation. It washes away the life youâd been living with Cassian and brings with it one where you are no longer part of a whole.Â
You are one, and you are alone.
A/N: May end up writing a sequel if this gets enough love. Something to the tune of Blue by VOILĂ đ
Based on the songs Parachute by Hayley Williams and Lost My Faith by Johnny Huynh!
Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader (gn/no description)
Word count: 2,500
About: You would have done anything for Cassian - had on a number of occasions. But how can you still love him when he betrays all the love and faith you'd placed in him?
Tags: Angst, betrayal, no happy ending (yet?)
Was it ever love? You canât help but think as you stare blankly at your lover standing half a flight field away from you. You see the broad strokes of the image, not the minute details: his stubbled jaw, his hands in her spiraled hair, his lips locked in a sloppy kiss.
Logically, youâre sure thereâs something youâre missing. You and Cassian were the ones that were together. Even if you had kept your relationship as low-key as you could. No one besides the Rogue One crew knew, and that was only because K2 was too observant for his own good. Heâd stated there was âa 98.7% chanceâ that you and Cassian had spent the prior night together before the mission several moon cycles ago. Unable to tell him he was wrong, Cassian instead told everyone to keep it between the group. You didnât mind, at the time: itâs not like there was a line of admirers following him. Cassian was not someone you had to worry about, jealousy wise.Â
Or, he wasnât, you guess.Â
Heâs stand-offish and rude, curt and sometimes mean, especially to beings he didnât know or didnât like. It took many, many missions for Cassian to see you as more than a hindrance, as someone who was able to keep themselves safe during a blaster fight but also knew enough not to get into unnecessary ones.Â
It took many, many, many more late night conversations, peacefully silent hyperspace jumps, and cantina meals together before Cassian even mentioned that he might have feelings for you. He wasnât a shy man, but he was reserved in his feelings and who he decided to let into his life due to all the loss heâs suffered.Â
But Cassian is a million other things, as well. Kind and gentle: soft caresses of your cheeks, gentle bites on your bottom lip, calloused fingers trailing up your naked spine. Passionate without fear of burning up in his fire, knowing that he was only angry with himself when he yells after a mission because he couldnât keep you safe enough. Thought that the scraped hands and knees were all his fault and that he should have done things differently, done things better, that way you never would have been injured. Reticent after a long mission, curled up around you with his ear pressed over your heart just to hear its steady beat.
You would like it if the whole of the Rebellion knew the two of you were together, but Cassian was a private person and you respected that. Or, maybe he just wanted to keep you private. So you canât help but wonder if all his quiet, unassuming love was real at all. If youâd only felt drugged on the way he made you feel special and had you missing all the signs that he wasnât reciprocating.That might make the scene in front of you make more sense. Any sense at all, really.
But that canât be the truth. Youâve spent years with the man, knew him like the back of your own hand: how he took his caf, the contentment he felt with your fingers in his hair, that the standard issue bedding was the softest heâd slept on since Niamos.Â
Cassian was everything you had ever wanted in a partner, both professionally and personally. Youâd fallen hard. Leaped without donning a parachute. All because you believed he was always waiting below you with open arms.
But as you spiral inside the four walls that housed your and Cassianâs âloveâ, you canât help but feel haunted by the past, wondering how the faith you had placed in Cassian could have been shattered this thoroughly. As if heâd taken your heart in his hands and crushed it.
Maybe he could explain it all away, you just needed to give him time. Itâs obviously for a mission, just to keep his cover. But⊠no. Heâd literally just returned from a mission, Rogue 1 parked right behind him. And youâre on a Rebellion base, who would he need to fool?Â
You think you could have given him the benefit of the doubt, maybe heâd had his eyes closed and thought the human woman currently attacking his mouth was you. Maybe he was under some kind of hallucinogenic.
Even so, you knew those were both impossible scenarios when he broke the kiss and stroked the face of the woman in front of him before making eye contact with you beyond her shoulder. His eyes held no affection, only a steely resolve that made your stomach plummet. Youâd seen that look on his face many times before - like when he and Jyn were collapsed on the beach right before you swooped in and saved them before Scarif imploded.Â
It was a look that said heâd made his decision and damn the consequences.
Nausea bubbles up your throat and you swallow hard to keep it down. The effort forces the bubbles behind your eyes and you canât keep the tears from filling your lashline. Blinking hurriedly to keep them from falling, you turn abruptly and tear back towards your shared room. You leave the runway, haunted by the ghost of what youâd just witnessed.
â
You had honestly expected him to arrive earlier than this. Heâd never left you sitting on your bed alone for this long even after your nastiest fights. You sit at the edge, covers still amiss from this morning when youâd woken up, waiting for him to come back from this week-long mission. No holos are playing for background noise, the lights and sound too much for your frazzled nerves and swimming thoughts.
Youâve replayed the kiss over, and over, and over again in your mind. Every time imagining a different look on Cassianâs face. A different outcome where he pushed her away and ran to you to explain. Fantasizing that he actually cared enough to tell you what the hell was going on rather than letting you fester by yourself in silence.
Youâd had many calls from your friends, with all of them trying to stop by in groups or one by one to get you to open the door. But you couldnât face them. What could you say? That you were stupid and foolish to think you were allowed to be happy with him? That you were so blindsided by this development that youâve had no less than two panic attacks, panting on the cold tile of the refresher floor?
You had nothing to say to explain to them because Cassian had not explained anything. Youâre just waiting for him to come and tell you something that made sense.
Unfortunately, finally, you hear the code being pressed into the keypad outside your accommodation. Heavy footfalls stumble in, and thick boots clunk to the floor, landing somewhere against a wall. You can smell the spirits before you even see Cassianâs face.
Your reflex is to stand up and head towards him to help remove the jacket heâs struggling with, but you remind yourself that Cassian has allowed you to sit here in misery while he was off drinking himself into this stupor. You reclaim your place on the mattress as you watch him fling the jacket onto the ground.
He stands before you, slightly out of breath and with eyes practically floating in his skull with how much heâs had to drink. You canât think of a reason that he felt the need to drink when it should have been you.
You raise your head and meet his eyes, your hands clenched uncomfortably tight in your lap to the point that several fingers start going numb. But youâll take numb over the pain youâre in right now. And the only way to stop the pain, stop the confusion, is for Cassian to speak.
But youâre scared.
Youâre terrified of the words that could come out of his mouth, so you donât open yours to ask the questions that have been on the tip of your tongue since the incident: what happened to us? Why were you kissing someone else when it should have been me? What did I do to deserve this?
The answer to that last question is, of course, rhetorical; youâve done a lot of bad things to have karma rebound like she has. Being a member of the Rebellion for as long as you have, youâve cheated, fought, stole, and even murdered in the name of the cause. You had justifications for each and every one, but the Force doesnât always weigh your intentions versus the outcomes.
But Cassian has the same blood on his hands, so how could those be reasons for him to do what heâs done? With anger finally making an appearance in your trembling fingers, you finally ask the question:
âWhy?â Your raspy voice grates against your sore throat.
âWhat do you mean âwhyâ, princesa?â Cassian replies.Â
The nickname heâs called you since being together tears its way into your wounded self. How can he still call you that? Itâs cruel, and youâve never known him to be so cruel.
âYou know what I mean.â Your tone is short, in direct contrast to his own drawn out, sloppy words. âWho is she?â
Cassian raises his face to the ceiling and blows out a long, alcohol-thick, breath. âAh, mi amore. Sheâsââ
ââMi amoreâ?â you question, breathlessly. And again, more forcefully. ââMi amoreâ?!â You stand suddenly, the anger surging from your fingertips and straight to your heart. A full body tremor takes over and you see red. âStars, Cassian! Who the hell is she? You leave me for a week and suddenly you have a new amore?â Your voice is explosive with the force of your anger, but the dejection returns just as swiftly. You add quietly, âOne that youâre not afraid to show off?â
And thatâs what hurts the most â that heâs willing to keep you a dirty secret from the rest of the galaxy while he parades her around in front of every being on the Rebel base. Countless nights spent creeping along empty corridors and hiding behind walls anytime you heard footsteps, sitting the standard amount of space away from each other in the cantina while every other couple shared seats or laps, the withdrawal of his hand whenever another person entered the room. Your heart convulses and contorts itself, wanting to evict itself from your body in order to lay on the ground at Cassianâs feet so he can finish the job heâs started.
âMy mission was to save her from Vaderâs forces. Sheâd been captured by stormtroopers and held in interrogation for information she holds. We need her.â He explains clearly, even with the spirits flowing through his veins.
âAnd you kissed her becauseâŠ?â you ask.
âBecause I had to,â he responds bluntly.
âHad to?â you scoff, tears welling in your eyes once again. âBecause you love her?â
Silence is the only answer you receive to your questions. Cassianâs gaze remains fixed on a point just beyond your shoulder, his jaw clenched tight.
You nod your head sadly, understanding dawning in your mind. âYouâve met her before. Sheâs someone you knew before me.â
âYes.â
âAnd you were together?â you continue.
He nods.
âAnd youâre together again. Now?âÂ
â... yes.â he sighs.
You close your eyes as tears fall rapidly. You stutter in a breath, lips quivering with the effort of holding back a sob. âAnd you didnât have the decency to break up with me first? You had to make me watch you kiss someone else?â you cry.
âIâm sorry, princesa.â Cassianâs voice trembles as he speaks. âShe is someone we cannot lose.â
âAnd I couldnât lose you, Cassian!â you sob. âIâve been falling for you since we met - I jumped without looking down because I thought you would be there to catch me!â You wipe your hands harshly across your face, the tear stains burning as they trail past your cheeks. âI had no parachute. I jumped, I fell, and now Iâve hit the ground.â
âMi amoââ he starts.
âNo!â you shout. âYouâve destroyed me, Cassian. After all weâve been through, all the trust I put into you and into us, and this is how you treat me?â Sobs wrack your frame as you encircle your arms around yourself, trying to hold the shattered pieces together. âDid you ever even love me at all?â
âOf course I did,â Cassian cries, raising a hand as if to grab your arm. You flinch back and stumble down onto the bed where you started.
âDonât say that like itâs obvious, Cassian.â you beg. âDonât act like anything youâve done today hasnât been a complete betrayal of my trust in you.â
His hand drops down to his side and both hands clench into tight fists. âIâm sorry,â he repeats.
You shake your head several times. Pain vibrating its way from your heart and giving you shivers so violent your teeth chatter. âIf you have any respect for me, youâll leave me alone.â you say.
âPrincesa,â Cassian says, slumping to the ground on his knees. âThereâs more to this, you have to believe me. I can explainââ
You interrupt again. âThen explain.â
He hesitates once again and itâs more than you can take. âI canât right now.â
âGet out, Cassian.â
Cassian calls your name softly. âPlease, youâre shivering. Let me hold you, I can help.â
âNow. Leave now.â your words come out as a growl between your teeth and you open your eyes and pierce your gaze into Cassianâs stricken face.
He opens his mouth slightly, as if starting to say something, but closes it just as quickly. He nods shakily and rises to his feet, using the nearby furniture to help him up. Heâs more unsteady on his feet now than he was when he walked in. Cassian bends down to pick up his discarded boots and makes his way to the exit. He pauses after opening the door.
âI promise thereâs more to this,â he sighs. âYou and IâŠâ
You donât respond and Cassianâs shoulders slump. His sock-clad feet walk into the hallway and the door whooshes shut behind him.
You collapse down onto your side and stare out your transparisteel window at the base beyond. Trees sway in a brisk wind and dark clouds cover the sky. You reach out to the nightstand and grab your holodeck. After a brief voice call with General Merrick, youâve successfully convinced him to send you off planet for the foreseeable future.
Rain begins to fall outside your bedroom, fat drops striking the transparisteel and rolling down, down, down off the bottom ledge. The trees beyond whip violently and the leaves are all soon soaked in the precipitation. It washes away the life youâd been living with Cassian and brings with it one where you are no longer part of a whole.Â
You are one, and you are alone.
A/N: May end up writing a sequel if this gets enough love. Something to the tune of Blue by VOILĂ đ
Based on the songs Parachute by Hayley Williams and Lost My Faith by Johnny Huynh!
Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader (gn/no description)
Word count: 2,500
About: You would have done anything for Cassian - had on a number of occasions. But how can you still love him when he betrays all the love and faith you'd placed in him?
Tags: Angst, betrayal, no happy ending (yet?)
Was it ever love? You canât help but think as you stare blankly at your lover standing half a flight field away from you. You see the broad strokes of the image, not the minute details: his stubbled jaw, his hands in her spiraled hair, his lips locked in a sloppy kiss.
Logically, youâre sure thereâs something youâre missing. You and Cassian were the ones that were together. Even if you had kept your relationship as low-key as you could. No one besides the Rogue One crew knew, and that was only because K2 was too observant for his own good. Heâd stated there was âa 98.7% chanceâ that you and Cassian had spent the prior night together before the mission several moon cycles ago. Unable to tell him he was wrong, Cassian instead told everyone to keep it between the group. You didnât mind, at the time: itâs not like there was a line of admirers following him. Cassian was not someone you had to worry about, jealousy wise.Â
Or, he wasnât, you guess.Â
Heâs stand-offish and rude, curt and sometimes mean, especially to beings he didnât know or didnât like. It took many, many missions for Cassian to see you as more than a hindrance, as someone who was able to keep themselves safe during a blaster fight but also knew enough not to get into unnecessary ones.Â
It took many, many, many more late night conversations, peacefully silent hyperspace jumps, and cantina meals together before Cassian even mentioned that he might have feelings for you. He wasnât a shy man, but he was reserved in his feelings and who he decided to let into his life due to all the loss heâs suffered.Â
But Cassian is a million other things, as well. Kind and gentle: soft caresses of your cheeks, gentle bites on your bottom lip, calloused fingers trailing up your naked spine. Passionate without fear of burning up in his fire, knowing that he was only angry with himself when he yells after a mission because he couldnât keep you safe enough. Thought that the scraped hands and knees were all his fault and that he should have done things differently, done things better, that way you never would have been injured. Reticent after a long mission, curled up around you with his ear pressed over your heart just to hear its steady beat.
You would like it if the whole of the Rebellion knew the two of you were together, but Cassian was a private person and you respected that. Or, maybe he just wanted to keep you private. So you canât help but wonder if all his quiet, unassuming love was real at all. If youâd only felt drugged on the way he made you feel special and had you missing all the signs that he wasnât reciprocating.That might make the scene in front of you make more sense. Any sense at all, really.
But that canât be the truth. Youâve spent years with the man, knew him like the back of your own hand: how he took his caf, the contentment he felt with your fingers in his hair, that the standard issue bedding was the softest heâd slept on since Niamos.Â
Cassian was everything you had ever wanted in a partner, both professionally and personally. Youâd fallen hard. Leaped without donning a parachute. All because you believed he was always waiting below you with open arms.
But as you spiral inside the four walls that housed your and Cassianâs âloveâ, you canât help but feel haunted by the past, wondering how the faith you had placed in Cassian could have been shattered this thoroughly. As if heâd taken your heart in his hands and crushed it.
Maybe he could explain it all away, you just needed to give him time. Itâs obviously for a mission, just to keep his cover. But⊠no. Heâd literally just returned from a mission, Rogue 1 parked right behind him. And youâre on a Rebellion base, who would he need to fool?Â
You think you could have given him the benefit of the doubt, maybe heâd had his eyes closed and thought the human woman currently attacking his mouth was you. Maybe he was under some kind of hallucinogenic.
Even so, you knew those were both impossible scenarios when he broke the kiss and stroked the face of the woman in front of him before making eye contact with you beyond her shoulder. His eyes held no affection, only a steely resolve that made your stomach plummet. Youâd seen that look on his face many times before - like when he and Jyn were collapsed on the beach right before you swooped in and saved them before Scarif imploded.Â
It was a look that said heâd made his decision and damn the consequences.
Nausea bubbles up your throat and you swallow hard to keep it down. The effort forces the bubbles behind your eyes and you canât keep the tears from filling your lashline. Blinking hurriedly to keep them from falling, you turn abruptly and tear back towards your shared room. You leave the runway, haunted by the ghost of what youâd just witnessed.
â
You had honestly expected him to arrive earlier than this. Heâd never left you sitting on your bed alone for this long even after your nastiest fights. You sit at the edge, covers still amiss from this morning when youâd woken up, waiting for him to come back from this week-long mission. No holos are playing for background noise, the lights and sound too much for your frazzled nerves and swimming thoughts.
Youâve replayed the kiss over, and over, and over again in your mind. Every time imagining a different look on Cassianâs face. A different outcome where he pushed her away and ran to you to explain. Fantasizing that he actually cared enough to tell you what the hell was going on rather than letting you fester by yourself in silence.
Youâd had many calls from your friends, with all of them trying to stop by in groups or one by one to get you to open the door. But you couldnât face them. What could you say? That you were stupid and foolish to think you were allowed to be happy with him? That you were so blindsided by this development that youâve had no less than two panic attacks, panting on the cold tile of the refresher floor?
You had nothing to say to explain to them because Cassian had not explained anything. Youâre just waiting for him to come and tell you something that made sense.
Unfortunately, finally, you hear the code being pressed into the keypad outside your accommodation. Heavy footfalls stumble in, and thick boots clunk to the floor, landing somewhere against a wall. You can smell the spirits before you even see Cassianâs face.
Your reflex is to stand up and head towards him to help remove the jacket heâs struggling with, but you remind yourself that Cassian has allowed you to sit here in misery while he was off drinking himself into this stupor. You reclaim your place on the mattress as you watch him fling the jacket onto the ground.
He stands before you, slightly out of breath and with eyes practically floating in his skull with how much heâs had to drink. You canât think of a reason that he felt the need to drink when it should have been you.
You raise your head and meet his eyes, your hands clenched uncomfortably tight in your lap to the point that several fingers start going numb. But youâll take numb over the pain youâre in right now. And the only way to stop the pain, stop the confusion, is for Cassian to speak.
But youâre scared.
Youâre terrified of the words that could come out of his mouth, so you donât open yours to ask the questions that have been on the tip of your tongue since the incident: what happened to us? Why were you kissing someone else when it should have been me? What did I do to deserve this?
The answer to that last question is, of course, rhetorical; youâve done a lot of bad things to have karma rebound like she has. Being a member of the Rebellion for as long as you have, youâve cheated, fought, stole, and even murdered in the name of the cause. You had justifications for each and every one, but the Force doesnât always weigh your intentions versus the outcomes.
But Cassian has the same blood on his hands, so how could those be reasons for him to do what heâs done? With anger finally making an appearance in your trembling fingers, you finally ask the question:
âWhy?â Your raspy voice grates against your sore throat.
âWhat do you mean âwhyâ, princesa?â Cassian replies.Â
The nickname heâs called you since being together tears its way into your wounded self. How can he still call you that? Itâs cruel, and youâve never known him to be so cruel.
âYou know what I mean.â Your tone is short, in direct contrast to his own drawn out, sloppy words. âWho is she?â
Cassian raises his face to the ceiling and blows out a long, alcohol-thick, breath. âAh, mi amore. Sheâsââ
ââMi amoreâ?â you question, breathlessly. And again, more forcefully. ââMi amoreâ?!â You stand suddenly, the anger surging from your fingertips and straight to your heart. A full body tremor takes over and you see red. âStars, Cassian! Who the hell is she? You leave me for a week and suddenly you have a new amore?â Your voice is explosive with the force of your anger, but the dejection returns just as swiftly. You add quietly, âOne that youâre not afraid to show off?â
And thatâs what hurts the most â that heâs willing to keep you a dirty secret from the rest of the galaxy while he parades her around in front of every being on the Rebel base. Countless nights spent creeping along empty corridors and hiding behind walls anytime you heard footsteps, sitting the standard amount of space away from each other in the cantina while every other couple shared seats or laps, the withdrawal of his hand whenever another person entered the room. Your heart convulses and contorts itself, wanting to evict itself from your body in order to lay on the ground at Cassianâs feet so he can finish the job heâs started.
âMy mission was to save her from Vaderâs forces. Sheâd been captured by stormtroopers and held in interrogation for information she holds. We need her.â He explains clearly, even with the spirits flowing through his veins.
âAnd you kissed her becauseâŠ?â you ask.
âBecause I had to,â he responds bluntly.
âHad to?â you scoff, tears welling in your eyes once again. âBecause you love her?â
Silence is the only answer you receive to your questions. Cassianâs gaze remains fixed on a point just beyond your shoulder, his jaw clenched tight.
You nod your head sadly, understanding dawning in your mind. âYouâve met her before. Sheâs someone you knew before me.â
âYes.â
âAnd you were together?â you continue.
He nods.
âAnd youâre together again. Now?âÂ
â... yes.â he sighs.
You close your eyes as tears fall rapidly. You stutter in a breath, lips quivering with the effort of holding back a sob. âAnd you didnât have the decency to break up with me first? You had to make me watch you kiss someone else?â you cry.
âIâm sorry, princesa.â Cassianâs voice trembles as he speaks. âShe is someone we cannot lose.â
âAnd I couldnât lose you, Cassian!â you sob. âIâve been falling for you since we met - I jumped without looking down because I thought you would be there to catch me!â You wipe your hands harshly across your face, the tear stains burning as they trail past your cheeks. âI had no parachute. I jumped, I fell, and now Iâve hit the ground.â
âMi amoââ he starts.
âNo!â you shout. âYouâve destroyed me, Cassian. After all weâve been through, all the trust I put into you and into us, and this is how you treat me?â Sobs wrack your frame as you encircle your arms around yourself, trying to hold the shattered pieces together. âDid you ever even love me at all?â
âOf course I did,â Cassian cries, raising a hand as if to grab your arm. You flinch back and stumble down onto the bed where you started.
âDonât say that like itâs obvious, Cassian.â you beg. âDonât act like anything youâve done today hasnât been a complete betrayal of my trust in you.â
His hand drops down to his side and both hands clench into tight fists. âIâm sorry,â he repeats.
You shake your head several times. Pain vibrating its way from your heart and giving you shivers so violent your teeth chatter. âIf you have any respect for me, youâll leave me alone.â you say.
âPrincesa,â Cassian says, slumping to the ground on his knees. âThereâs more to this, you have to believe me. I can explainââ
You interrupt again. âThen explain.â
He hesitates once again and itâs more than you can take. âI canât right now.â
âGet out, Cassian.â
Cassian calls your name softly. âPlease, youâre shivering. Let me hold you, I can help.â
âNow. Leave now.â your words come out as a growl between your teeth and you open your eyes and pierce your gaze into Cassianâs stricken face.
He opens his mouth slightly, as if starting to say something, but closes it just as quickly. He nods shakily and rises to his feet, using the nearby furniture to help him up. Heâs more unsteady on his feet now than he was when he walked in. Cassian bends down to pick up his discarded boots and makes his way to the exit. He pauses after opening the door.
âI promise thereâs more to this,â he sighs. âYou and IâŠâ
You donât respond and Cassianâs shoulders slump. His sock-clad feet walk into the hallway and the door whooshes shut behind him.
Rain begins to fall outside your bedroom, fat drops striking the transparisteel and rolling down, down, down off the bottom ledge. The trees beyond whip violently and the leaves are all soon soaked in the precipitation. It washes away the life youâd been living with Cassian and brings with it one where you are no longer part of a whole.Â
You collapse down onto your side and stare out your transparisteel window at the base beyond. Trees sway in a brisk wind and dark clouds cover the sky. You reach out to the nightstand and grab your holodeck. After a brief voice call with General Merrick, youâve successfully convinced him to send you off planet for the foreseeable future.
A/N: May end up writing a sequel if this gets enough love. Something to the tune of Blue by VOILĂ đ
You are one, and you are alone.
Well, Pt.2 is to a dif song, but still a couple parts that could use Blue eventually...
To be honest, I just got bored of writing this. If anyone wants to pick it up/use this idea, please tag me! I'd love to see how you finish what I couldn't.
Here is the "prompt" that came from a dream I had a few months ago. It's written in stream-of-consciousness because I didn't want to lose it after waking up:
"Reader and ML (idk who yet) knew each other really well for a while. Maybe she helped him gather intel or survive in an area while on a mission kind of like the informants in real wars whatever. But for some reason maybe she's a princess or a sacrifice or something that her people don't want to lose because she's young and a girl or something. She makes it far enough in the rebels/resistance/army disguised as someone else/dif gender to get to a lineup with the guy who has to train/sort the new cadets. He walks down the line, assessing each person until he gets to her. He stares deep into her eyes, trying to figure out where he's seen "themâ before and his eyes widen in recognition. She silently begs him to not say anything. His nose flares and his jaw clenches, but he doesn't say anything about that. He does ask the record keeper/assistant what âtheirâ name is and says that they're to be with him from now on. She was at the end of the lineup so he turns and walks away. She lets out a huge sigh from holding her breath and tries to act cool when the others around her stare in disbelief but she tries to play it cool and says âtheyâ helped him on his last expedition so he must want someone experienced with the area/threat/research."
I turned it into a Bucky fic, but honestly it should have been Cassian Andor or Poe Dameron. Ah well. I also changed some aspects of it because I couldn't get them to work out.
Here's as far as I got with it, continued under the cut:
Itâs not that you had a death wish, per se, but at the moment you thought itâd be a better alternative to the situation you found yourself in right now.
The glacial blue eyes of the Winter Soldier stare right into your soul, making the air freeze in your lungs. His metal hand twitches at his side, as if wanting to raise up and grab the rifle currently strapped to his back.
âName?â he growls.
You stand tall and proud, eyes centered on his chest where it rises up and down not even a foot away from you. You canât look him in the eye or else your expression will give you away. Hands firmly clasped behind your back, you open your mouth to respond, but before you can utter a sound, the senior agent next to him cuts in.
âThat is special agent Barnes, sir.â
Buckyâs nostrils flare and he canât seem to find the words to say in this situation. You feel your stomach settle as he turns his back and begins to walk away, surprised that he let you go so easily. Until.
âBarnes, with me.â
Oh god, you think to yourself as you scramble past the line of other newbie agents as they send questioning looks or silent glares after your figure as you follow behind the broad back of Sargent James Buchanon Barnes. What did I just get myself into?
***
6 months ago
âYou see that man there?â Youâd whispered to the soldier laid out beside you, binoculars lowered from your eyes.
âKinda hard to miss, donât you think?â Heâd responded back, just as quiet.
Youâd huffed in exasperation and shouldered him, which had caused his rifle to jostle out of place. Heâd made a noise in the back of his throat and adjusted bearing, an aggravated side-eye thrown your way.
Youâd grinned at him and heâd rolled his eyes, focusing back on the group of people surrounding a platform that held a middle-aged man sporting a comically large mustache. You had watched as he waved his arms about, ranting over something his cronies had done incorrectly or about how much money heâd lost after you and Bucky had freed several hostages heâd taken days ago.
âSo youâve got it from here, right?â youâd asked him.Â
Heâd nodded in acknowledgement then rotated his shoulders and settled more firmly into the dirt beneath him. Youâd nodded back and slipped away, having slid slowly and cautiously down the hill youâd been perched on. Youâd never stuck around long enough to see the bodies, but news channels the next morning always confirmed Buckyâs skill.
You had always shaken off the slight guilt you felt at being directly involved in the deaths of nearly a dozen people, but you contented yourself with the knowledge that hundreds of innocent lives had been saved in the process.
You stood at the bottom of the hill for only a handful of seconds, grass kicked up from your sneakers sliding back and forth on the soft mounds. Bucky had rolled down to stand beside you soon after, his sniper strapped along his spine. He looked into your eyes and cocked his head away from his mission site, towards the city youâd left behind earlier in the day.
âItâs time to head back, Scout,â heâd said.
Youâd nodded your agreement and made your way into the woods surrounding you, headed to the vehicle youâd left a mile back in a clearing.
âAny movement from the Princess?â Heâd asked after a silent few minutes trudging through underbrush. He must have deemed it safe to converse at that point, but he had kept up a brisk pace pushing through the trees.
Your spine stiffened imperceptibly at the question but you still turned a friendly face to look up at him. Why was he so interested in the princess? Your country was a small one with the King making every decision. The royal family consisted of the King, Queen, the Crown Princess and Prince Consort, along with the second Princess who stayed out of any and all affairs. She hadnât been seen by the public since she was a child.
âNope!â you chirped. âNo public appearances and all the rumors remain the same: is she disfigured and scared to show it, is she agoraphobic and frightened of the outside world, was she actually murdered as a child and the Crown is covering it up?â Youâd shrugged your shoulders and turned your eyes back down to the ground so you wouldnât trip over any wayward vines. âWhy?â
Bucky just shrugged and lifted a low-lying branch up so that you could make your way under it. Youâd smiled up at him and skipped ahead. âJust heard some things,â he commented off-handedly.
âOh?â youâd wondered. âWhat sort of things?â
âNothing concrete. Just keep your ears open.â Heâd responded.
Your heart rate sped up at the thought. What could the Avengers have heard about the Princess? You were very aware of the fact that she never involved herself in anything outside of the immediate royal family. The cabinet hadnât even seen her! All of her petitions and documents were delivered by her advisor, who was as tight-lipped as anyone could be.
If there was something that involved the second Princess, you would have known about it. The fact that foreign groups like the Avengers were interested meant something was definitely going on.Â
You just needed to find out what.
***
The Present
Itâs not every day that the former Winter Soldier and your somewhat-friend Bucky glared so menacingly at you for something youâd done.
Because, to be fair, it only happened most days. And that was because he didnât seem to appreciate your certain brand of sarcasm, not because he was mad at you. Was âmadâ the right word? Right now, you think that Buckyâs emotion goes way beyond mad and into a near apoplectic rage.
Bucky seethes as he stands across the room, arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. The anger heâd shown in the training room had apparently skyrocketed during the very silent sprint walk to the nearest conference room. You rock on the balls of your feet as you theatrically look around the room like youâd never seen one before â anything to keep you from looking at him.
âWow,â you exaggerate, âthat whiteboard is reallyââ
Bucky cuts you off before you could even think of an adjective.
âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing here?â He snaps.
You glance at his face quickly to see just how angry he is and you immediately look away when the intensity of it immediately burns. âOh, nothing much,â you say as you scratch your cheek with one finger.
âScout.â He growls your alias as if the word itself was acid on his tongue.
âOkay, okay,â you placate, holding your hands up. âI needed to do some recon and this was the best plan I could come up with.â
âThe best you could come up with?â he questions. âYou joined a foreign governmentâs international defense organization under a false identity.âÂ
âWhat, like itâs hard?â you quip with a sly smile.
Bucky groans and drops his head into his hands before sliding them through his hair and dropping them to lean backwards against the conference table. His broad chest pulls tight the black athletic shirt heâs wearing. You ogle the display discreetly while he continues to look at you.
âAnd you used my name becauseâŠ?â he trails off, looking for an answer.
âItâs not an uncommon name,â you hedge. Bucky sighs again, still waiting. âUgh, fine. So you may or may not have been on the news while I was filling out the paperwork, okay? Seemed as good a name as any.â
He lifts his black vibranium arm and gestures to you. âAnd youâre dressed like this for what reason?â
You look down at your SHIELD appointed uniform: leather lace-up boots, cargo pants that are actually quite comfortable, dark gray shirt covering your torso, and finally roll your eyes up to catch the rim of the hat. âUm, itâs what they gave me?â you reply.
âNo, I know itâs what they gave you,â he huffs. âBut generally they provide a different outfit for the trainees.â
âOh!â you beam. âI told them I was allergic to cheap, environmentally destructive fabrics.â
âEnviroââ He stops. Takes a breath. âYou know what? Iâm not gonna ask. Iâm just not.â He shakes his head.Â
âI think I did a good job convincing them.â You drop your voice as low and scratchy as you can get it, sounding silly when you say, âThis is my âget that polyester anywhere near me and Iâm gonna hurlâ voice.â
âNo.â Bucky states. âYou absolutely did not do that.â
âI thought you'd fall for that!â you laugh. âI was going to pretend that I had fire powers and any plastic fabrics would melt into my skin.â
Bucky raises his face to the sky, as if asking the universe why he has to deal with you. âYou canât be serious.â
âAs a heart attack,â you grin. "But then I remembered I'd actually have to prove that at some point."
The exasperated look on his face finally makes you cave. âI kinda got approved to join the upper ranks and was taking the tour they had this morning,â you concede.
Bucky blows out a sigh of vexation, but you can tell heâs no longer irate. Now that Buckyâs anger has calmed, you sidle over to him and lean against the table with him. Your attitude becomes serious as you lean back and study your nails, picking at any flaws that have somehow survived your nervous flight all the way to the Avengerâs compound.
âIâm actually here on behalf of the Princess,â you say. âI donât know what whispers you were talking about after our last âexcursionâ, but thereâs been some political moves made that sheâs not happy with. She needs information, and thatâs what Iâm here to find.â
Bucky straightens his back and turns his head down to look at you. âShe reached out to you?â he asks.
You shrug non-commitally and continue. âThereâs been a marriage proposal. Normally that doesnât even warrant her attention, since theyâre all declined on her behalf by the King and Queen, but for some reason this one is being entertained. She needs me to find out why and how he has enough power to sway her parents.â
With a rough yank, you tear a hangnail from deep within your nailbed, causing a drop of blood to well up and settle into your cuticle. You bring your thumb to your mouth and nurse at the spot.
âThereâs something else,â Bucky observes, watching your nervous moves. He reaches to grab a tissue from the middle of the table and holds it out for you to take.Â
You huff out a sarcastic laugh and hold the soft material to the wound you gave yourself. âYeah, there is, but itâs strictly confidential. The Princess wasnât even supposed to know about the marriage itself.â
Your mind wanders to the Princess pressed close to a hidden passage, her ears taking in as much information as she could hear. Her slippers silent on the stone floor, nightgown fisted between clenched fingers. It was the first and only time sheâd even heard of the upcoming engagement, even though it was hers. The lack of regard shown by the King had sent goosebumps racing down her arms.
âI have six months before the engagement is announced,â you tell him. âThatâs as much time as she was able to negotiate.â Your stomach swoops at the next statement that leaves your lips. âAfter that, the wedding will occur before the yearâs end.â
You can see as Bucky processes your words, taking into account the intel he has versus what youâve told him. He shakes his head and purses his lips before turning to you again. âIf you need information, I can help. Youâve been accommodating during the missions weâve brought you in on, so itâs time we return the favor. Iâll get Maria to place you here with us. Tony will give you access to our databases.â
A warmth spreads its way through your chest. You canât help but feel grateful to the super soldier beside you, especially considering that youâd planned to break your way into the SHIELD network if you werenât given access.
âThank you, Bucky,â you beam. âThatâll make everything a lot easier.â
He cracks a smile when he asks, âSo. Are you going to use your real name from now on or are you going to introduce yourself to the team under false pretenses?â
You shrug your shoulders and respond, âI have it on good authority that Captain America lied to the United States government about his information on several occasions.â
Bucky barks out a laugh and concedes. âYouâre not wrong. Iâm surprised that punk wasnât arrested on perjury charges back then.â
âTo give you some credit, I think your military had more to worry about than Steve Rogers signing up under different names.â
âThatâs true,â he remarks, eyes going slightly hazy at the memories formed nearly a century ago. He blinks a couple of times before saying, âSo, your name?â
âScoutâs fine,â you reply. Bucky quirks one eyebrow, but lets it go. Heâd never asked for your real name on the missions youâd been on together since it really didnât matter too much, but now it seems that since youâll be part of the team for a while he thought to ask.
âOkay, Scout.â Bucky stands tall and starts walking out the conference room door. âLetâs go get the introductions out of the way.â
â-
The Watchtower might be the defunct Stark Tower these days and RIP to the man who created it, but you canât say it shows its age. The equipment and database access are still top quality even after all these years and several remodels due to âsuperhero activitiesâ.Â
You find yourself squirreled away in the old data collection room, surrounded by monitors and holographic displays. You quickly learned how to multitask on the system while simultaneously entertaining any Thunderbolt that dropped by, usually Yelena and Alexei.
The young woman had taken an interest in you as soon as youâd stepped into the common area on your first day. The âNew Avengersâ had been huddled around the kitchen island, snacking away on sandwiches and chips piled high in front of them.
You had introduced yourself to them and promised to stay out of their way, only sticking around long enough to get what you need then youâd be out of their hair. Yelena had looked between you and Bucky several times, her eyes taking everything in. A mischievous smirk had taken over her lips as she walked toward you and linked your arms together.
âAs leader of this group,â she began in her heavily accented voice, âI welcome you to our team.â Sheâd lead you away from Bucky and placed you directly between John Walker and Alexei. The two men greeted you first before the others, Ava and Bob, had quietly said their hellos. Bucky took up the empty space across the counter from you and slid a sandwich into your hands before taking one for himself.Â
You became immediately fond of the group as a whole during that lunch. The boisterously loud Red Guardian insisted on you being a new friend for his âdaughterâ Yelena while she argued that she was not, in fact, his actual daughter.
FIN.
Where I was going with it: reader is actually the princess and her parents got bewitched or something by the guy wanting to marry her so that they'd agree. Reader was using the New Avenger's access to classified intel in order to dig up dirt on him - didn't get far enough in to decided on what Reader would find.
AN: Thanks so much to everyone who read the first part of this fic!! Here's part two, one more part to go (which is currently still being written but will hopefully be finished relatively quickly). Hope you all enjoy đ
The Ruseâąïžappears to be working as planned and you and your bandmates are reaping the benefits.
(Un-betaâd)
Rated:Â M+ (here there be light smut)
Words: 3,216
Pairing:Â Musician!Poe Dameron x Musician!Reader (was written with F!reader in mind but could be read as GN)
Warnings:Â cursing, fake dating, friends to lovers, PDA, jealousy, drinking, karaoke, kissing, frottage, please let me know if i missed anything
AO3
ââââââ
You get real proof that your ruse is working when Black Squadron gets invited to present at the Grammys. Yes, the Grammys. You hadnât believed Leia at first when sheâd told you all, thought she was just pulling your leg but, no, they really wanted you there. Everyoneâs over the moon, calling their loved ones back home to share in their joy.Â
You have to fend for yourselves as far as wardrobe goes but Leia's connections help, and soon all five of you are dressed to the nines, your outfits different yet still similar enough to indicate that youâre a packaged deal. A mix of anxiety and excitement permeate the rented car youâre in as it pulls up the venue, the flash of cameras almost blinding even through the tinted windows. Someone outside opens the door and helps Rose, who is closest, out first. Finn and Poe are last, and a small section of the crowd seems to go nuts over their appearance.
Eager smiles are plastered on everyoneâs faces, including yours, as you take in your surroundings. Itâs surreal to be somewhere youâve always dreamed of being. Sure, youâre not nominated but how many people can say they were invited to the most prestigious award show in the music industry? How many more could say theyâd been asked to present?Â
The warmth of a hand on your back tells you Poe is beside you and you turn to him, smile widening as you meet his eyes.Â
âCan you believe this?â you gush, leaning in so he can hear you over the din of the crowd.
He shakes his head, a dazed look on his face as he looks around. âI honestly canât.â
You both laugh when he meets your eyes again, the excitement spilling out of you.Â
A woman wearing a âWorkingâ lanyard and a headset hurries over to you, looking a little frazzled as she waves her hands to get your attention.
âHi,â she greets, a forced smile on her lips. âBlack Squadron, right?â
âMy information says only two of you are walking the carpet. The others are supposed to head through the back.â
You and Poe nod fervently as you gesture behind you toward Rose, Rey, and Finn who are clustered together with Leia. The woman glances at them briefly before rifling through the clipboard in her hand and shaking her head, her attention focusing back on you.
Your smile falls at her words, anger flaring in your gut as you shake your head at her. âNo way. We walk together or not at all.â
The woman sighs tiredly, and a small part of you actually feels bad for being angry with herâyou know the decision to exclude your bandmates probably wasnât hers, that she probably answers to a higher power, but you refuse to let this happen. Youâd rather leave altogether than leave your best friends behind.Â
Leia suddenly appears at your other side and you assume Poe mustâve waved her over. She talks to the woman who, in turn, talks to someone else on her headset. Thereâs a brief pause and then sheâs giving Leia a thumbs up. She nods at you and Poe as she passes, attending to the next group of arrivals.
Leia waves you both over and soon all five of you clustered in front of her.
âWhat happened?â Rey asks, looking between Leia and the woman you and Poe had spoken with.
âJust a misunderstanding,â Leia says, raising her eyebrows as she briefly meets your gaze.
Her look tells you itâs over, to move on, and you nod, accepting her answer, but canât quite manage to reclaim your enthusiasm. The walk on the red carpet is a little overwhelming with all the cameras flashing and the people calling your name, but the presence of your closest friends helps. Finn and Rey lead the charge, waving excitedly at the crowd, doing exaggerated poses for photographers; their joy makes you smile. Rose is next, elegant as always, smiling sweetly and nodding in acknowledgement as she practically glides down the carpet; her presence is calming and you could not be more grateful to have her here with you. You and Poe bring up the rear, his hand steady and warm against your back as he smiles and nods at the crowds of people.
âThis is insane,â he mutters to you at one point, looking a little dazed when you turn to meet his eyes. âIâve never had anyone fight this hard to get my attention before.â
You sniff a laugh, the forced smile on your lips relaxing into a genuine one. âDid you forget that you perform on stage for a living?â
He chuckles, rubbing his hand over his chin as a man with a headset waves the two of you to stand on a piece of tape. âThatâs different. This isâŠsomething else.â
You hum, smiling as a torrent of flashes assaults your vision. âYeah, I guess I kinda get what you mean.â
Despite your attempts to soak in every moment, the event still seems to pass in a blur of camera flashes and a flurry of color. The after party is just as exciting, everyone getting even more of a chance to mingle with some of the biggest names in the industry. At some point, the five of you get separated, everyone involved in their own conversations. You and Poe had stuck together, but heâd wandered off ages ago to get you both another drink and as youâre laughing at the joke the man beside you just told, it occurs to you that heâs been gone longer than he ought to have been.Â
The conversation continues around you as you crane your neck, searching the room for Poe. You spot Rey and Rose first, chatting and laughing with a few people theyâd met at the ceremony. Finn is next, talking to an older gentleman, his attention completely focused on him. You frown, your eyes continuing to scan the room in search of Poe.
When you finally see him across the room, a tension you hadnât realized had settled over you is releasedâŠuntil he smiles and laughs, and you realize heâs talking with someone.
A woman.Â
Sheâs gorgeous, her skin glowing, smile wide and eyes shining as she laughs along with him. An odd feeling comes over you, churning in your gut, making you feel almost ill, and when she touches his arm, you flinch a little, anger flaring in your chest.
Itâs then that you realize: youâre jealous. You immediately look away, shaking yourself as you huff slightly, a jolt of panic racing through you. Heâs not really yours, you remind yourself. You have no claim over him, he can flirt with whoever he wants. Sure, youâre pretending to be a couple, something this woman should, in theory, know butâŠshe doesnât owe you anything and neither does Poe. Not really. Nevertheless, you feel a possessiveness over him that you canât quite shake. The man beside you turns, attempting to draw you back into the conversation of the group around you, and you smile politely, trying not to glare across the room.Â
What seems like eons later, Poe returns, drinks in hand and a soft smile on his lips. You thank him with a smile of your own, one youâre sure heâll see right through, and turn back to the group. He leans in a moment later, his warm breath puffing against your ear.
âYou okay?â he asks quietly, his shoulder pressing into yours.
You nod, keeping your attention on the woman telling a story that everyone around you seems to find amusing. Poe nudges you gently, his arm pressing more insistently against yours. After a moment, you sigh and glance over, his eyebrows raising in question.
âIâm fine,â you whisper, quickly turning your attention back to the group.
You hear him scoff beside you and fight the urge to roll your eyes. Annoyed, you nudge him back, digging your elbow into his side. He squirms, sucking in a sharp breath, and you smirk, suddenly feeling a little better.
âWhat was that for?â he whispers insistently.
You ignore him, keeping your gaze ahead.Â
A warm hand encircles your bicep and you sigh as it gently pulls you away from the group and closer toward its host, to Poe. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and the look in his familiar brown eyes sends a pang of guilt through you.
âWhatâs wrong?â he asks softly, his thumb absently stroking your arm.
You swallow thickly as your anger at him almost instantly melts away.
âItâs nothing,â you dismiss, averting your gaze.
Poe scoffs and steps in closer, blocking your view of the room so that your focus returns to him. After a moment, you deflate, sighing as you shake your head at yourself.Â
âReally, itâs nothing,â you say again, this time meeting his eyes. âIâm sorry.â
You can tell heâs not buying your brush off, but he doesnât push it, not this time. Instead, he just nods, squeezing your arm reassuringly. A couple comes up to you then, drawing Poeâs attention. You smile hollowly at them as they introduce themselves, unable to shake your feelings.
â
With only ten to fifteen more shows left, tour is on its last legs, and you and the band are taking a much-needed breakâno gigs, no press, no fans, nothing for a whole week. Roseâs sister Paige is visiting so sheâs pretty much never around, and Finn and Rey signed up for some week-long intensive fencing class at the last minute because theyâre dorks. Even Leia flew home for a few days.
That just left you and Poe.Â
Thankfully though, you werenât stuck languishing on your bus. Leia had convinced the label to spring for a suite at a nice hotel, one with amenities. It was even pet friendly, which meant Poe could bring up his cat BeeBee. Even the orange feline was happy to be off the bus, hopping from the table to the couch in the common area. Gracefully, he walks along the back of it toward where Poe sits strumming idly at his guitar. Youâre across the room from him, enjoying your book and the sunshine on the balcony, the open doors allow a soft breeze wafting into the room, ruffling Poeâs unkempt curls.
The sound of Poeâs guitar reaches your ears but you pay it no mindâŠuntil you realize what heâs playing sounds familiar. You begin humming along, still pretending to read your book. He must hear you because he starts humming with you, his fingers more sure than theyâd been a moment ago, the melody clearer. You glance up at him and catch his eye, the soft smile already on his face causing a matching one to stretch across yours.
Minutes later, youâre both on your feet, dancing and singing the song as Poe strums heavily on his guitar. You laugh as the song comes to its end, panting a little from the dancing and jumping around.Â
âWe should go out,â you say, realizing how bored youâd been before your spontaneous dance party.
Poe nods, already searching for his shoes. âWhere are we thinking?â
You shrug, pulling on your own shoes and making sure you have your wallet. âAnywhere, maybe a bar or something?â
He hums, picking up BeeBee and giving him a kiss on the top of his head. âSounds good. We can drop this one off at daycare on the way.â
You chuckle, scratching the orange cat behind the ears. âHeâs gonna hate that.â
âOh most definitely,â Poe agrees, heading toward the door. âYou got the room key?â
You double check your pockets then nod, giving him a thumbs up for good measure, and youâre off.
The two of you end up at a karaoke bar two doors down from your hotel. You start off with a few drinks as you peruse the binder of available songs, each of you weighing the pros and cons. Poe chooses a folksy number that the crowd is less than enthused about, and you follow with a rock classic that at least garners a smattering of applause. You take a break, talking and laughing as you try to find a song you can agree to sing together. Food and drinks come and go as you deliberate and you canât help but be grateful you donât have to worry about driving anywhere later.Â
The place is packed by the time your names are called for your duet. Youâre buzzed as hell, giggling at everything, making Poe giggle in return. You barely make it through the song, busting out laughing every few words, and end up getting booed off the stage. Taking this as a sign from the universe to call it a night, the two of you leave, settling up your tab and staggering clumsily back to the hotel.Â
Youâre not sure when it happens, or even what prompts it, but one minute, you and Poe are in the elevator, giggling like maniacs, the next his mouth is on yours, his tongue slipping between your lips to tangle with your own. It feels good, he feels good. So warm, so solid, so familiar. He tastes like the whisky heâd been drinking earlier but also something else, something so decidedly Poe. You canât put your finger on what it is, or even what it reminds you of, all you know is that you want more.
Poe pushes you against the nearest wall, his hands grasping at your hips as he slots his thigh between your legs. You moan, weaving your fingers into the depths of his lucius curls. He groans, your fingers twisting and pulling as he ruts against your leg. He presses against you even more, like he canât get close enough, like heâll never be close enough. Your hips tilt as you grind against his thigh, the rough fabric of your jeans creating a delicious friction between your legs that makes you whine into his mouth. You canât breathe, but you donât care. All you want right now is to keep kissing him, kissing Poe.
You must say his name out loud because he moans yours a moment later, pulling his mouth from yours to suck your earlobe between his teeth. His hands pull at you, hoisting you up a little so his thigh is flush against your center. Your breath hitches, the heat building to a crescendo as you continue to rock against him. His breath is hot on your neck as he drags his mouth down further, licking and sucking at every inch of your skin. Youâre close, so close, the tension in your gut building and building until snaps. You gasp as you come, still writhing against his thigh, your fingers clenching in his hair. His groan against your neck is choked, his own hips stuttering as he too reaches his peakâ
You wake with a start, immediately cringing as the sunlight streams in through your open windows. A groan escapes you and you fall back down onto the bed, pulling the covers over your head to block out the light.
Itâs then that you realize youâre alone.Â
You pause, peeking out from beneath the covers to look around the room to confirm your suspicions. Had last night really just been a dream? But it had felt so real. You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face.Â
Shit. You should really stop drinking.Â
Thereâs a soft knock on your door and you freeze again, eyes wide as you pull the covers up around your shoulders.Â
âCome in,â you croak, grimacing at the awful taste in your mouth.
The door creaks open after a second and a familiar dark-haired head pops in. Your heart skips at the sight and you curse internally.Â
âHey,â he says, looking as terrible as you feel. âWant to order some breakfast?â
You swallow thickly, nodding as you avert your gaze. âYeah sure, just, um, gimme a few minutes?â
He nods, then stops, grimacing as he grabs his head. âTake your time. Iâm gonna go lay down on the couch.â
Itâs another hour before you emerge from your room, freshly showered and feeling a little more like yourself.Â
But you canât stop thinking about it, your âdream.âÂ
Youâre not 100% sure that it was only a dream, but youâre also not 100% sure it wasnât. It had just felt so real; so real you can still feel his lips on yours, feel his body against yours, his breath against your neckâ
âYou gonna eat that?â Poe asks, gesturing to the croissant on your plate.
âWhat?â you ask, jumping a little in surprise. âOh. Yeah justâŠworking up the energy.â
He grunts, slightly less grumpy now than he had been earlier as he sips on a mug of black coffee.Â
You tear a piece of the pastry off and pop it in your mouth, stealing glances as you chew. He looks terrible, like he drank way too much last night (just as you had), but he still looks relaxed. One would assume that if he had kissed you senseless and made you come on this thigh, heâd probably be a little more on edgeâŠright?Â
Just ask him what he remembers, you think. You donât have to be specific.
âHey, um, what do you remember about last night?â
âWell, I remember it was fun,â he says, smiling a little as he takes another sip from his mug. âWe probably shouldnât have had that last round of drinks though. Why?â
You shrug casually as you eat another piece of your croissant. âJustâŠtrying to fill in the gaps.â
He nods, pouring more coffee into his mug. âSure you donât want any coffee?â
âMaybe later,â you say, popping the rest of the pastry in your mouth. âRight now Iâm trying to focus on rehydrating.â
He chuckles, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. You take the opportunity to study him, eyes tracing every line and curve of his face. Youâve always known he was a good-looking guy, youâre not blind, but until your dream last night (because it mustâve been a dream, right?) you hadnât really thought much about it. Now you find yourself wondering what his lips might feel like, how he tastes, how the morning scruff on his chin would feel against your skinâ
âWhat?â he croaks, looking at you with one eye barely open.
You chuckle, shaking your head as you look away, ignoring the way your skin heats. âSorry, still trying to wake up.â
He grunts, scrubbing his hands over his face. âIâm gonna take a shower.â
You hum absently, sipping your water as he pushes heavily to his feet. He stretches, groaning in relief. The noise makes your stomach flip, moments from your âdreamâ flashing unbidden through your mindâs eye. Was it the same? You think it was. Does that mean heâs done it before and your brain just changed the context? Or had it really happened? Perhaps youâll never truly know.
You watch him shuffle back to his room, a feeling welling in your gut that seems familiar but you canât seem to name. You push it away, choosing to ignore it for now.
It was a dream, you tell yourself, only a dream.Â
You will yourself to believe it.
If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. đ
đ Masterlist đ
PART THREE
i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.
AN: Helloooo. So. I am not a musician in the slightest so apologies for any inaccuracies. I did try looking as much up as possible, for the record lol. This idea came to me about two years ago and was primarily prompted by this post. I know AUs aren't everyone's cuppa so please don't feel like you have to read this just because I'm excited about it lol really it's okay. Sorry if the writing format throws you, I know it's a little different than I usually use. Hopefully it's not too confusing. If you have questions, please feel free to ask! I have so many notes lol.
When your band Black Squadron suddenly hits it big, your bandmate (and lead singer) Poe Dameron makes a joke that sends the media into a frenzy and changes your life forever.
(Un-betaâd)
Rated:Â M+ (eventual smut, not in this part)
Words:Â 2,764
Pairing:Â Musician!Poe Dameron x Musician!Reader (was written with F!reader in mind but could be read as GN)
Warnings:Â cursing, fake dating, friends to lovers, PDA, please let me know if i missed anything
AO3
ââââââ
Your fist pounds on the door, the bangs echoing down the empty hotel hallway.
Finn, your friend and fellow bandmate, opens the door and smiles at you coolly.
âHey, howâs it going?â he greets, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe.
You gaze at him, unamused by his nonchalance. âIs he in there?âÂ
âWho?â Finn asks, playing dumb.
âYou know who,â you growl, twisting your jaw in agitation.
Finn bites back a smile, before stepping back and nodding behind him to where the object of your ire is stretched out on the bed closest to the window. Seething, you storm over to him.
âWhat the hell, Dameron.â
Poe looks up at you in surprise before glaring at Finn in betrayal.
Finn shrugs, wordlessly throwing his hands up defensively as he all but runs toward the door.
"You know what they say,â Poe begins, reluctantly turning his attention back to you, âWhat happens on tour, stays on tour.â
Youâre going to kill him. Like, straight up, flat out murder; tons of blood, possibly even some severed limbsâŠ
You close your eyes in an effort to compose yourself, pressing a hand to your forehead as you sigh deeply. "Not when 3.5 million followers on Instagram see it!"
He shrugs. Shrugs. Like itâs no big deal, like itâs not a problem.
Yeah, youâre definitely going to murder him.
âPoe,â you begin, doing your best to control your anger, âYou canât just say something like this to the media and expect it to not blow up. What were you thinking?â
He shrugs again, adding one of his oh-so-charming smiles, and you fight the urge to scream in frustration. âIt was a joke.â
âYeah, this is hilarious,â you bite, turning your tablet to show him the Instagram post that started this circus.
FINALIZER EXCLUSIVE: Black Squadronâs leading man (FINALLY) confirms romantic relationship with fellow bandmate and co-songwriter. #breakingnews #blacksquadron #poedameron #thefinalizer
âAs are the numerous texts and messages I now have to wade through.â
He huffs a laugh, crossing his arms defensively. âCome on, itâs a little funny.â
You glare in response.
âFree publicity?â
You shake your head, continue to glare daggers.
âAlright, alright. Fuck. Iâm sorry, okay?â he concedes, deflating slightly as he runs a hand through his hair, âI justâI mean, we get that question all the damn time andâŠI donât know, I guess I just felt like messing with them this time.â
You stare at him, your glare softening slightly. Ugh, you never could stay mad at him for long, even when he deserved it.
Sighing, you plop down onto the bed beside him, your back against the headboard. âYou couldâve at least warned me, Poe, I mean, my parents called me.â
He chuckles at that, looking at you sideways with a raised eyebrow. âWhatâd your mom say?â
You snort, crossing your arms over your chest and shaking your head. âLetâs just say that sheâs thought of some very creative ways to kill you.â
âMore creative than yours?â
You grunt in response, shooting him a âdo you really want me to answer that?â look.
Thereâs a beat of silence before he heaves another sigh.
âI am sorry. Really. Youâre right, I shouldâve told you.â
âNo,â you interject, turning to face him, âYou should never have said it in the first place.â
He nods, gesturing toward you in agreement. âYouâre completely right. Look, Iâll get with Leia and weâll put some kind of statement out that clears the air. Sound okay?â
You chew your lip, glaring at him half-heartedly before grumbling, âNot really.â
He nods, scooting closer to you on the bed and bumping your shoulder with his. âHow âbout if I throw in a bottle of that whiskey you like.â
You turn your head to look at him, eyes narrowed. âMake it two bottles. The big ones.â
âYou got it, Sweetheart,â he says, smiling and holding his hand out for you to shake.
After staring at it for a moment, you roll your eyes and grasp it in yours, ignoring his blinding smile.
â
âYou canât be serious.â
Thereâs a beat of silence as you look back and forth between your manager and your bandmate.
âItâd just be for a few months,â Leia says nonchalantly. âAnd nothing even really needs to change that much.â
You squint at her, nose scrunched in confusion. âOther than the fact that weâll be pretending to date, you mean?â
âYouâre on tour for the rest of the year so, at most, youâll probably have to field some questions about your âburgeoning romanceâ until the novelty wears off, which it will. Eventually.â
You sigh, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.
âLook, itâs not like Iâm asking you to make a sex tape,â Leia says, hands raised placatingly.
Poe snorts a laugh beside you, earning him a glare from the older woman. Slightly embarrassed, you cross your arms over your chest and shoot a glare at the man beside you.
âThis your idea, Dameron?â
His eyebrows are raised in surprise when his gaze snaps to yours. âWhaâNo, Iââ
âIt was mine,â Leia interjects, turning your attention back to her. âDid you know Black Squadron was trending at number one on pretty much every social media site for days after that Finalizer story went live?â
You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks are starting to warm. âThatâs great, Leia, but theyâre talking about something that isnât even real. What about our music? Thatâs whatâs real, thatâs what matters.â
She sighs, her eyes softening a little as she gazes at you. âKid, my phone has been ringing off the hook for a week and my inbox is full of interview requests. This could be good for the band, for your music. Itâs a chance to bring in new fans, fans that might not have even known about you otherwise.â
You chew your lip as you consider her words. A part of you agrees that this ruse could result in more people discovering your music, that it could end up being really great for the band. But the other part, the true artiste in you, is hesitantâyou donât want to be known for dating your bandmate, you want to be known for your talent.
âHave you run this by the others yet?â you ask with a sigh, meeting Leiaâs eyes again.
The older woman shakes her head. âI wanted your blessing before I took it to the rest of the band.â
You nod absently, averting your eyes as you sink further into the couch, your shoulder pressing against Poeâs. âIf everyoneâs on board thenâŠI guess we can give it a try.â
â
âYou donât have to do this, you know,â Poe says, eyeing you with mild amusement as you pace back and forth in the green room of Late Night with Maz Kanata.
âOf course I have to do this. I agreed to do this,â you respond, running your hands down your front to smooth the non-existent wrinkles.
âHey,â Poe says softly, gently grabbing your shoulders and halting your pacing. âIf this is too much for you, just tell me. I have no problem flying solo.â
You sigh, meeting his eyes before shaking your head. âNo, itâs fine. I justâŠdonât know if I can talk about âus,â you know?â
He nods, his hands absently rubbing up and down your arms. âNo worries, I can do all the talking. Not much of a change from the norm.â
You huff a laugh, chewing your lip as you nod. âTrue.â
Thereâs a quick knock on the door before it opens and a P.A. pokes her head in. âGet ready, youâre on in five.â
Poe nods at the frazzled-looking woman and thanks her before returning his attention to you. âReady?â
âAs Iâll ever be, I guess,â you say, swallowing thickly.
He studies you quietly for a moment before taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. âYouâre gonna do fine.â
You nod absently, your brain conjuring up scenarios of all the things that could go wrong.
The P.A. shouts from the hall that you both need to be walking now and before you realize whatâs happening, Poeâs pulling you through the door and suddenly youâre side-stage waiting for your cue.
You try to control your breathing, focusing instead on the steadiness of the man beside youâpassing out right now is not an option.
âHey,â Poe whispers, squeezing your hand again, âIâve got you, okay?â
A small smile forms on your lips as youâre hit with a rush of affection for your friend. Turning to meet his eyes, you say, âI know you do.â
He briefly returns your smile with one of his own before his attention is stolen again by the P.A. who is frantically waving you on stage.Â
In the end, the interview goes well, given the circumstances. Poe is just as charming as always, if not more so, and you manage to not make a complete and total fool of yourself on live television.Â
Poeâs hand doesnât leave yours the entire time.
â
In the end, Leia is right, nothing much does change. You and Poe still do the same things youâve always done together, behave more or less the same way you always have and itâsâŠkind of irking you. You donât really have time to think about it right now though. Tour is insaneâevery other night youâre in a different city, playing another venue, gazing into a sea of cheering people, the music thrumming in your veins. Itâs exhilarating, even more so when they sing your words back to you, their faces flickering through seemingly every human emotion. It warms you to your soul to see them feel your music so deeply. Itâs the reason you play, why youâre still playing after all these years.Â
The energy in the room tonight is electric, zipping through your body with every cheer. You canât seem to stop smiling, the unabashed joy on the faces of your fans nothing short of euphoric. As you pluck at your bass, you sway to the music, losing yourself in it. You sing along with Poe as he hits the chorus, smiling as the crowd sings along with you. When the second verse picks up, he takes his mic from off the stand and moves to the edge of the stage. The crowd goes nuts, cheering so loud you almost canât even hear him sing. His smile is wide as he reaches the chorus again, pulling the mic away and pointing it at them as they belt the lyrics back to him. He laughs, moving the mic like a baton as they sing, as if conducting them like an orchestra.Â
When the chorus is done, he puts the mic back to his lips, moving toward your side of the stage as he begins the last couple of verses. He catches your eye as he walks, mischief alighting in his eyes as he dances his way over to you. You chuckle into your mic, thankful that the sound is swallowed by the cheers and music permeating the room. The crowd is almost beside themselves by the time he makes it to your side, pressing in close as he puts his mic down so he can share yours. He sings the remaining lines of the song with his shoulder pressed into yours, breath fanning against your cheek as he turns his head.Â
As the song winds down, he pulls back, jumping in time with Reyâs drum beats and Finnâs guitar riffs. You laugh again, shaking your head at him as you play along with the last few notes of the song. When it ends, he puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side as the crowd continues to cheer. The lights are in your eyes so you canât see the entire crowd, but the ones you can see seem to be way more excited than usual. You shrug it off, not thinking much of it as Poe gives you one last squeeze before returning to his place on stage.Â
You play the rest of the set without incident, and are almost sad when itâs time for the last song. Itâs your most popular one, and as soon as Rose plays the opening notes on her keyboard, the crowd loses it, cheering louder than they have all night. You beam as you sing along, plucking in time with your bass. Poe makes his usual rounds: playing his guitar with Finn, singing a bit with Rose, clashing one of the symbols for Rey, and singing the last verse of the song with you. Itâs what he always does, something any fan whoâs seen you more than once knows, yet by the time he makes it over to you, the crowd is going crazy.
Poe is pressed against your side again as he shares your mic, belting out the lyrics as you harmonize with him. As you finish singing the last line, it occurs to you that your ârelationshipâ with Poe could be the reason for their sudden enthusiasm and a bitterness settles in your stomach. He pulls away from the mic to cheer with the crowd once the song finishes, raising his arms in the air before bowing dramatically.Â
You chuckle and shake your head at the theatrics, sharing an amused look with Finn from across the stage. Poe returns to your side after a moment, arm slipping around your waist as he leans into the mic to thank everyone for coming out to see them. Itâs something he always does, heâs just a tactile person, but for some reason this time it feels fake somehow, like heâs still performing for the crowd. You brush off your thoughts as he releases you, arms coming up instead wrap around you in a hug. He laughs as the two of you stumble off of the stage, the weight of both him and your bass making you a little unbalanced.
You canât help but laugh, still high from the show, as you half-heartedly push him away. âGet off me, loser.â
Still laughing, he leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your head, releasing you a moment later and basically attacking Finn whoâs walking by cracking jokes with Rey. You slow a little, handing your instrument off to one of the stagehands with a breathless âthank youâ and end up walking beside Rose.
âHey,â she says, eyes bright and shining with happiness. âGood show.â
You nod, smiling as you stretch your neck and shoulders. âYeah, you too.â
A comfortable silence settles over the two of you as you walk, simply basking in the after-show glow. You canât shake the thought you had during the show though. The thought that everyone was cheering for your fake relationship instead of your music, instead of the band. The thought keeps nagging at you, and by the time you reach the hallway with the dressing rooms, you turn to her.Â
âHey, didnât it seem like the crowd was a little moreâŠexcited than usual tonight?â
Rose meets your eyes with a furrowed brow. âNot really. Why do you ask?â
âI dunno,â you shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. âJust. Whenever Poe came over to me on stage, it just seemed like theyâd completely lose it.â
She shrugs, shooting a smile at someone youâre passing in the hall. âI mean, theyâre always like that for you guys.â
You look at her, somewhat miffed. Are they? Youâd never thought to notice before, if you were being honest.Â
She smiles at you, an amused look in her eyes as she opens the door to your shared dressing room. âYou want the first shower?â
You shake your head, still processing her words as you follow her inside. âNo, you can go.â
Theyâre always like that for you guys, sheâd said. Always. Were you really that oblivious? How had you never noticed before? You try to think back on the shows you had prior to the Finalizer article, prior to this whole charade, but you find that the details are a little fuzzy. You pay attention to the crowd when you play (of course you do, theyâre the reason youâre even able to play to begin with), but you mostly focus on the music itself, on your bandmates.Â
You tell yourself that it doesnât really matter, that it shouldnât bother you butâŠit does. In the end, you decide to let it be; all that matters is that theyâre listening to your music, it doesnât matter how or whyâŠeven if itâs based on a lie.
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PART TWO
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