I'm SO excited to bring you the first look at the masterlist for the Lovebomb Bang 2026! The writers have been scribbling away, and have been matched up with an artist partner to bring you some wonderful collaborations! Each collaboration will be linked here once it's been posted by the author and artist.
💘 The excellent Hello, Neighbor by @bartonsparrow25 with artwork by the equally wonderful @indigo-jungle .
💘 I Just Want to Sleep by @noforkingclue is so full of love and longing, it's just beautiful, and with a corresponding moodboard by @daydreamgoddess14
💘 Two Body Problem by the glorious @soelstress and with artwork by the excellent @indigo-jungle.
💘 Sugar High by @daydreamgoddess14 with artwork also by @daydreamgoddess14
💘 Learning Curves - by the EPICALLY talented @societyfolklore has arrived - and it's bloody excellent. With a corresponding moodboard by @daydreamgoddess14
💘 TBC - @thenameswinter99 and @societyfolklore
💘 Clean Slates - @indigo-jungle finishes off double duty with a fantastic Curtis Everett fic and what a team-up with @societyfolklore !
💘 Spin the Bottle - a gorgeous first kiss fic by the wonderful @writing-for-marvel and with accompanying artwork by @daydreamgoddess14
College Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Curvy!College!Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Bucky are just classmates, but perhaps some cheap beer and an innocent game of spin the bottle might just change that.
Warnings: reader has her first kiss in a public game of spin the bottle with Bucky, a little peer pressure but reader doesn’t kiss anyone she doesn’t want to, potential underage drinking (drinking age is 18 where I’m from), mean girls judging other women’s bodies, this was written specifically with a curvy reader in mind
Word count: 4.6k
A/N: for my darling Jules’ Love Bomb Bang @thelovebombbang! Thank you so much for hosting @daydreamgoddess14 and for being my artwork partner for this challenge! I know I was a little very unorganised for this challenge but I think it all came together beautifully in the end ♥️ banners by @vase-of-lilies
Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library | AO3
Being an introvert in college sucks.
Being an introvert in college that in your mothers own words could afford to lose a few pounds, sucks even more.
But being a chubby introvert who has made it to her junior year in college without having had their first kiss, well, that’s basically a death sentence.
The only person who has ever called you beautiful is your best friend Natasha, who’s viewpoint is a little biased considering you’ve known her the best part of ten years.
Nat says it will happen for you, you just need to put yourself out there more and then you’ll have no problem finding someone to make out with. It’s easy for her to say; she oozes confidence and charisma with every step she takes, whereas you move around the world wishing to remain as invisible as it seems you already are.
It’s basically your superpower at this point.
That doesn’t stop you longing to be yearned for, to be desired. For someone in this godforsaken world to look at the soft curve of your jaw or the way your thighs press together and see someone worth loving, treasuring, rather than something that needs to be corrected.
It hasn’t happened for you yet, and you’re losing your last scraps of hope with every passing day.
* * *
The Friday night air is crisp, but as you stand outside the Kappa Sigma frat house, your skin feels clammy. The bass from the speakers inside vibrates through the soles of your shoes, a rhythmic thumping that mimics the frantic, uneven pace of your heart.
“You're doing that thing again.” Nat says, nudging your shoulder.
She looks ravishing in a crop top and skin tight skirt that clings to her perfect figure, her confidence a palpable force that usually acts as a shield for you, as long as you keep close enough. Tonight, however, it feels more like a spotlight you’re trying to duck.
“What thing?” You mutter, tugging at the sleeves of your off the shoulder sweater. You chose it because it’s soft and safe, a loose knit barrier between your imperfect body and the judgmental eyes of the world.
“The ‘trying to disappear into the walls’ thing. We’re not even inside yet.” She turns to you and there’s a quirk to her brow you know her well enough to know is her silently asking if you try to be brave for her. “You are beautiful, and just about the smartest person here. And I’ll be with you the whole time.”
You offer her a weak, skeptical smile. You know she means the compliment, but when you look in the mirror, all you see are the inches you could afford to lose and the thick thighs that make you feel ginormous compared to the lithe, effortless girls who frequent these parties.
Your mind is a dark, cavernous void of self-doubt, replaying every time you were the ‘approachable one’, the girl guys talk to only to get closer to Nat or to ask for help with their Lit homework, when they just wanted you to write the whole damn thing for them.
“C’mon, if you hate it after an hour we can leave, but at least have a drink first.”
That hour deadline cannot come fast enough.
The heat hits you first as you walk in arms linked with Nat, a wall of sweat, far too much cologne, and cheap beer. The room is completely packed, a sea of bodies swaying to a song you don’t know the name of.
In your mind, you’re already calculating the shortest route out of here. If only there were illuminated lights like on an airplane, highlighting your closest emergency exit.
But you promised Nat sixty minutes only thirty seconds ago. Your throat constricts, making it hard to swallow, and you immediately scan the room for corners, the shadows where you can exist without being perceived. Somewhere to hide.
This is why you prefer the peace and quiet of the library.
But then, across the room, your eyes land on him.
Bucky Barnes is standing by the kitchen island, a red cup held loosely in his hand. He looks like a statue of a god animated to life. Breathtakingly beautiful and chiseled to perfection. The light catches the sparkle in his dazzling sapphire eyes as he laughs at something his teammate Sam Wilson says. His smile, even though it’s not directed at you, somehow manages to settle your nerves churning in your stomach.
He’s wearing a simple dark shirt, it’s about a size too small, though you're not complaining, you very much enjoy the way the fabric stretches over the thick pecs and bulging biceps he’s earned from years of football training.
You’ve shared three classes with him over the last two years, and every time he’s caught you staring, he’s given you an endearing smile that makes your lungs burn.
But you’re just an acquaintance. A face in the chanting crowd as he throws the spectacular pass which scores the football team their much needed win. A girl in his English Lit class who once borrowed a pen from him and almost fainted when his fingers brushed yours. Someone who he smiles and silently nods at when you sit in your trademark seat in the lecture hall a few rows in front of his own bookmarked spot.
He doesn't think of you at all when you’re not in his direct line of sight. He does know your name though, a small token you hold onto as if your life depended on it.
What you don't see is how Bucky’s laughter falters the moment you walk through the door. You don't notice how his posture straightens, his large hands splayed on the counter as he subtly shifts his position just to keep you in his peripheral vision. You don't observe the way he stops listening to Sam in that moment, his eyes tracking the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, his mind wondering if your skin is as soft as it looks.
You’re unaware the reason he sits in that particular spot in the lecture theatre is because it’s you who’s unofficial designated seat is just in front of him, where he gets to gaze at you out of the corner of his eye during every class you share.
“Earth to Bucky.” Sam says, bumping him with his shoulder. “You okay man?”
Bucky blinks, his gaze finally snapping back to his friend, though his eyes still have an amorous twinkle that he can’t quite suppress, and his best mate notices quickly.
“Yeah. Just hot in here is all.”
“Right… hot.” Sam smirks, following Bucky’s gaze to where you are currently trying, and failing, to blend into a bookshelf. “She's been here all of two minutes and you're already sweating.”
“Shut up.” Bucky mumbles, his voice raspy. He wasn’t aware you’d be here tonight and he’s all of a sudden nervous. He’s supposedly the star athlete that has everything figured out, but when it comes to you, and the cute way you hide your hands in your sweater sleeves, he feels like he’s playing a game that he hasn't been given the playbook to.
He likes the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking really hard and how you look like you have your own creative universe inside your head that he wants an invitation to.
But you don't know any of that.
You just see a man who is ‘way out of your league’, a man who surely wants someone who has a similar figure to Nat, perhaps one of the cheerleaders who always hangs around the football team. Someone who could never be interested in you that way.
You try to focus on anything other than your crush across the room, the titles of the books on a nearby shelf, the way condensation dribbles down the side of Nat’s red cup. But your internal compass keeps spinning back to your true north, Bucky Barnes. He’s the sun, the bright smiling centre of attention, and you’re just a distant, cold moon caught in his gravitational pull.
“C’mon, it’s time we dance it out.” Nat grabs your hand with a cheeky grin and pulls you away from the safety of the periphery of the party. “If it’s good enough for Meredith and Cristina then I think we can both try to let loose and have some fun.”
You know that’s code for you to let loose and have fun, because it’s in Nat’s DNA to not care what anyone thinks and shake her ass on the dance floor.
Being in motion makes you feel slightly less like a target for judgment, or perhaps it’s the way laughing with Nat as you both make fools of yourselves dancing to loud music makes you forget to think about all the eyes that could be watching you. Even though it's only Bucky's that watch your every move.
But that relief is short lived.
A loud whistle pierces through the music, followed by the sudden, jarring silence of the speakers being cut. A collective groan rises from the crowd, quickly replaced by a wave of rowdy cheers.
“Alright, alright! Clear the floor!” A deep voice booms. Sam Wilson, standing on a coffee table with a grin that spells nothing but trouble, holds an empty, green glass bottle above his head like a trophy. “The tradition continues! If you’re in the splash zone, you’re playing, no take backs.”
Before you can speak in protest, the sea of people surges, a literal tide of sweaty bodies pushing you and Nat, who grasps your hand to keep you beside her, toward the center of the living room. You desperately try to back away, but the circle is already closing, a wall of collegiate athletes and girls in miniskirts forming a ring that feels more like a cage.
You’re forced down onto the floor, your thighs pressing uncomfortably against the hardwood floor as you try to tuck your legs beneath you in the packed circle, wishing your sweater could grow three sizes and swallow you whole.
“Nat, I can’t do this.” You try whispering without drawing unwanted attention to your reluctance to participate. If you stand and leave now, are you just flagging your inexperience to everyone?
“You never have to do anything you don’t want to. Kiss their cheek, their hand, or not at all. You don’t have to kiss anyone you don’t want to.” She keeps her voice low, doing well to make her communication subtle, but her words aren’t the comforting blanket you’ve become accustomed to.
With all eyes on you, and the silent expectation of making out with whomever the bottle lands on, some you don’t even know the names of, you will most likely either succumb to the social pressure of having your first kiss in front of a drunk audience or you’ll find yourself labelled as the campus prude.
But there’s no backing out now without looking like the biggest killjoy in frat history, so you chew the inside of your cheek and say a silent prayer that the bottle doesn’t land on you.
“Rules are simple!” Sam announces, easily capturing the attention of the crowd. He places the glass bottle into the center of the circle, it clinks against the wood, a sharp, predatory sound. “If it points at you, you’re the target. If you’re the spinner, you better make it count.”
Sam goes first. A roaring cheer goes up when it lands on a beautiful brown eyed girl with flowers embroidered on her flared jeans.
They make quite the cute pair, and they pash like they know it too. Sam slides a hand into the back pocket of her jeans, cupping her butt and pulling her flush against him as they lose themselves in the kiss. The crowd hurls whistles and playful jeers, but you find yourself staring at the floor, your face heating up just from being a witness to such easy, uninhibited intimacy.
For them, a kiss like that is just a normal Friday night highlight. For you, it feels like a mountain you aren’t, nor ever have been, equipped to climb.
That’s just the beginning of the make out sessions. The game moves at a terrifyingly quick pace, you watch on as the more confident people around the circle speak up and take their turn, each spin you’re simply grateful to get through without being the chosen one.
One of the smaller running players, you always forget the technical position name for, on the football team kisses a sweet girl you remember meeting for the first time on orientation day. A guy who has a fairly popular gaming channel comes together in an open mouthed snog with the vice captain of the cheerleading team.
However, seeing a senior on the debate team only allow one of the basketball players to kiss her on the cheek, followed by a performing arts student only kissing the forehead of the significantly shorter leader of the journalism club, sets your heart slightly at ease. Not everyone is participating in make out sessions.
Nat, who’s sat so close beside you your thighs are touching, goes next, only for the bottle to land on the girl who hosts the college’s radio show, the one Nat always compliments the music taste of.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been left unkissed while watching your best friend make out with someone at a party, but Nat looks like she’s having the time of her life, tongues twisted in a passionate snog with someone you’re already positive she’s attracted to. You’re happy for her, truly you are, you just want that for yourself too someday.
“Alright gorgeous, you’re up next.” Suddenly the lump in your throat feels like lead as you realise Sam Wilson is speaking to you.
You’re thrown, not just because you didn’t want it to be your turn so soon, even though it was an inevitability of the game, but also the nickname he used to refer to you. Gorgeous.
“Me?” You whisper, the word catching in your throat.
Nat gives you an encouraging pat to your thigh as she sits down from her place in the spotlight.
“Go on then, don't keep us waiting!” A slurred voice from across the room teases, followed by a few muffled giggles.
It’s time to rip the bandaid off.
You’re in junior year of college, you’ve waited long enough to kiss someone on the lips for the first time. Though, you do wish it weren’t in front of half the school.
For a brief moment your eyes connect with Bucky who’s sat directly opposite you in the circle, and you could have sworn you saw a hint of a smile curve on his features at the recognition you chose to gaze at him, before your attention is focussed on the game at hand.
You reach out, hand shaking as it emerges from the safety of your knitted sweater sleeve. Before your brain has time to tell you this is a terrible idea, that you should be running for the hills, that you’re a junior in college who hasn’t had your first kiss and you don’t belong at a frat party playing spin the bottle, you twist the body of the glass bottle and set your fate in motion.
You watch as it spirals through every possibility in the circle multiple times, hoping, praying, that that the person it eventually lands on is at least kind. You know who you want it to land on, but as long as the person doesn’t completely dismiss you based on your appearance, as so many have done before, you’ll at least save yourself some public humiliation.
As the bottle slows, your heart is beating in your throat, it slows on some guy in a black hoodie you’ve never seen before in your life, clicking over to Sam Wilson himself, before it stops altogether, landing on him.
Bucky Barnes, hero of the football team, campus sweet guy who somehow seems to know everyone’s name without ever having spoken with them. And the star in your fantasies where you finally have your desired first intimate interaction with the male species, which goes far beyond just having your first kiss.
Before you spun the bottle, it had been your desperate wish for it to land on him. What a wonderful person to share your first kiss with, not only is he smoking hot, but he’s actually been nice to you before without wanting something in return.
But now that it’s a reality, you’re utterly petrified.
You’re entirely too inexperienced to be kissing Bucky Barnes, the golden athlete who must have women flinging themselves at him nonstop.
A few girls around the circle do nothing to suppress their scornful sniggers. Malicious amused glances pass between them as if the thought of Bucky Barnes actually wanting to kiss you is the most outlandish and hilarious thought known to man. The sound makes you cower into yourself. Nat practically hisses at them to shut up.
But you know that the only thing more embarrassing than being turned down for a kiss by Bucky is if you were to be a coward and run as far away from this situation as possible. So as difficult as it is to swallow the lump in your throat and move your heavy legs to carry you to where the bottle is pointed, you find strength to do so in how Bucky is gazing at you.
Other juniors might be sneering at the idea of the chubby girl kissing the football star, but Bucky himself looks as far from amused as possible. He observes your every move intently as you step toward him.
Bucky doesn't wait for you to reach him, he steps forward on the hardwood, closing the gap between you until his presence is a physical shield, blocking out the judging eyes of the circle and the muffled whispers of the girls who are validating your inner voice claiming you're not good enough.
He towers over you, his jaw and cheekbones cutting sharp lines on his gorgeous features, but his eyes are surprisingly soft up close. The mockery you expect to see is nowhere to be found, instead, you’re surprised that he looks about as nervous as you feel.
“You want this?” He speaks low enough that you know his sole focus is on you.
“I do.” You confirm, and you could confuse the beaming smile on his lips as if you had just p pop promised your hand in marriage to him, rather than a simple kiss.
His forefinger grazes the underside of your jaw, settling under your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to see the absolute sincerity written across his handsome features. Your heart's thumping rhythm surely must be visible under your sweater as it’s practically beating out of your chest as he leans in.
Your first ever kiss.
When you close your eyes and your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, the room reverberates with cheers. All eyes are on you and yet the only thing you can focus on is how Bucky’s large hands cup your jaw and the slow, deliberate movements of his pillow soft lips.
A small, broken whimper escapes your throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated shock at how divine this feels, how you could have deprived yourself of this bliss for so long, and Bucky answers it with a low moan that vibrates deep into your mouth.
You admittedly do not know if what you’re doing is correct, but it certainly feels so right. You let Bucky guide you and allow your instincts to take over - for once in your life you’re not stuck in your head and overthinking every minute detail. You just allow yourself to feel, bask in the joy of being kissed.
Your fingers, previously trembling and trapped in the safety of your knit sleeves, find their way to the soft fabric of his shirt. You bunch the material in your fists, anchoring yourself to him as the room around you dissolves into a blurred, insignificant haze.
And to think half an hour ago you wanted to leave before setting foot in this party.
Bucky deepens the pressure, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips with a gentle, yet clear demand. There is no question as to what he wants. When his tongue finally sweeps against yours, it isn't this invasive, sloppy thing you had feared when you pictured what this moment might feel like. It is a sweet, insistent elvet intrusion that makes your knees feel as though they’ve turned to water.
It is you who inevitably breaks the kiss, in a blurry haze of needing air, but all you breathe in is Bucky’s warm, earthy scent. And for the first time in your life you truly believe that a man’s eyes are filled with desire while gazing at you.
Bucky looks intoxicated, not just from the beer, but completely captivated by everything you are. His dazzling blue eyes are blown wide, tracking the way your own lips are slightly parted and swollen from his attention. There is no smirk, no triumphant glint of a football star who has won a bet of tricking someone into their first kiss, there is only a raw yearning that makes your heart feel as if it's bursting out of your chest.
You feel as if you’ve been standing in the middle of the circle gazing into each other's eyes for far too long, longer than any of the couples before you had, you shyly drop your head and scurry over to your previous place in the circle.
Your face is burning hot as you quickly sit back beside Nat, her smile a mixture of pride and mischief.
“Did that feel as good as it looked?” Nat asks as one of the cheerleaders takes her turn next, the world continuing to spin as if yours hasn’t just been thrown off its axis.
“Better.”
Nat squeals with delight, taking your hand in both of hers and squeezing in a way that makes you feel so utterly loved by her. She really is closer to a sister than a friend.
You can’t focus on the continuation of the game, how passionately teammates Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers kiss, the refusal of Yelena Belova to kiss her best friends ex who cheated on her, for all you can do is take yourself back to the moment Bucky’s lips captured yours in your imagination.
Across the diameter of the circle, Bucky hasn't moved, hasn’t even taken his eyes off you. He’s sitting with his long legs sprawling out, his large hands resting on his knees. He doesn't join in the rowdy commentary of his teammates, for his mind is miles away, still lingering in the taste of your mouth.
Earlier tonight there was nothing worse than the prospect of being heavily involved in this boisterous party. Now, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. You want to stay in the sanctuary of Bucky’s attention, revel in feeling for the first time in your life that you are the person who is wanted, you are the need that will quench their thirst.
That oasis is short lived however, for the glass bottle gets passed to a distracted Bucky, and your heart sinks. What you just experienced with him, that pure pleasure, he is about to feel with someone else.
The chances of it landing on you in this sea of people are so very slim.
You put on a brave face, one that says you’re not fazed in the slightest by whomever Bucky gets to kiss when in truth watching that will macerate your heart. Nat, sensing your stiffness beside her, gives your hand another comforting squeeze.
It’s just a game.
Even your kiss with him was just part of the game. You should not read too much into it.
He can kiss whoever he likes.
You force yourself to watch as he reaches to the middle of the circle, to keep up appearances that you are not affected by the prospect of Bucky kissing someone else, then he performs an action that stops your heart dead in your chest.
Rather than spinning the bottle as the game not only suggests, but has been a requirement for every participant so far, Bucky places the bottle firmly on the ground without turning it.
And it’s pointed directly at you.
Unlike the usual chattering filling the room when the bottle is spun, this time there’s a good few seconds of complete silence, everyone seems to be as shocked as you are.
“That’s not how the game works.” A pretty brunette finally speaks up, a girl who you’ve seen studying with other football players in the library on occasion, indignation clearly etched into the crease in her forehead.
“I don’t give a fuck.” And that somehow makes an already impossibly beautiful man even hotter. Scorching, like the surface of the sun hot.
In a room full of beautiful people, Bucky Barnes is choosing you.
His heavy shoes thud against the hardwood floor, an easily audible declaration of his intent to kiss you again. You’ve barely managed to stand by the time he’s to you, his hands hungry to pull you close to him, your chest flush with his.
“Wasn’t leaving it to chance.” Bucky quickly mumbles as his lips crash into yours.
If your first kiss was a beautiful, soft discovery, this one is a ravenous, fervent reclamation.
The absolute greed he devours you with would suggest he’s been starving for years, not mere minutes. It’s dizzying how incessantly his warm lips move against yours, how his tongue explores your mouth with tenacity, how you can feel him everywhere around you, even smell him in the air you breathe, and which fills your ribcage.
You can hear the whistles and cheers of the football team, though they seem distant compared to your previous kiss. The entire world seems to be disappearing around you and the only real sensations remaining are the rapture blooming in your chest and hot pool of arousal in your lower belly.
You’ve felt sexual attraction before, but nothing like this, never an uncontrollable flaming heat stoked by someone who wants you just as desperately. A blaze that can only be doused by their action between your legs.
His hand traces up your back, from your waist to the nape of your neck, before he breaks contact, forcing you to keep looking at him, not shyly pull away as you had done before. His forehead rests against yours as you catch your breath, a radiating heat simmering between you that could still melt the glass bottle sitting on the floor, pointing stubbornly at you.
Bucky tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear so he can appreciate the look in your eyes better, before he captures your much smaller hand in his, and leads you over to his side of the circle. He sits where he was sat before but this time he pulls you down with him, sitting you right on his thick thighs.
For a moment you consider you’re much too heavy to be perched in his lap, but his arms snake around you and pull you into him so you don’t have the chance to protest.
You feel his soft lips press a kiss to your bare shoulder as you gaze over the other side of the circle where even though Nat now has an obvious empty spot next to her, she’s smiling proudly, like a big sister who’s just witnessed her innocent sister blossoming right before her very eyes.
You may have been a late bloomer, but some things are most certainly worth the wait.
This is an entry for @thelovebombbang hosted by the lovely @daydreamgoddess14.
@societyfolklore is the artist I worked with for this collaboration. She's made lovely mood board above to accompany the fic.
Summary: Valentine’s day is coming up. You are tired of ignoring its existence each year. You want something soft, something romantic and you are determined to experience it even if you have to give it to yourself. Curtis is staring down a Valentine’s alone for the first time in years. A meddling friend puts you in each other’s path. Fortunes align and a new kind of love blooms between you and Curtis.
Word count: ~10.4 K
Tags: friends to lovers, valentine's day fic, happy endings, new beginnings, pining
Warnings: Swearing, heart break, angst, some low-self esteem, making out and heavy petting, fade to black.
Divider by @saradika-graphics
A/N: I've enjoyed working with on this @societyfolklore. As I've said to you before, I love all the choices you've made for the art. It captures the mood of the fic so well. Thank you for this wonderful mood board and lovely conversations. I hope this fic holds surprises that will delight you.
@daydreamgoddess14 thank you for organizing this event! I've had a lot of fun creating something together, both as a writer and an artist.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Feed the muses- Please tell me what you enjoyed, unfiltered squeals welcome. Comments and reblogs appreciated.
Summary: Mace is humanity’s last hope for survival. He’s also your friend who you’ve developed feelings for. Knowing that you may never see him again once he leaves, you struggle whether to tell him how you feel.
Warnings: fluff, smidge of angst, pining , brief mentions of injury and blood loss , mentions of alcohol , kissing
Word count: 4.7k
A/N - my contribution to @daydreamgoddess14 @thelovebombbang event. Thank you for organising this, Day! It was super fun to do!
A/N 2 - So the beautiful divider was created by the amazingly talented and insightful @indigo-jungle. She took the fragments I provided and turned them into this masterpiece. Indigo thank you for being patient when my muse was not musing and confirming I was not colourblind but also being indecisive with me. It was a joy collaborating with you!
A/N 3 - Indigo also came up with the title. The Two Body Problem is how to calculate and predict the motion of two massive bodies that are orbiting each other in space.
A/N 4 - I cannot state this enough - THAT ENDING DID NOT HAPPEN. This man deserves better!
A/N 5 - divider by @saradika-graphics
Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work
Bracing winds blew drifts of snow with howls and screeches. The atmosphere outside was very different to that within the building. Warm lighting shone in every nook and cranny but the real warmth came from the celebrating party. Standing at the edge of the celebrations you watched with a wide smile as two of your friends were glued together constantly kissing and hugging having just become engaged.
Glancing around you frowned when you realized a certain someone was missing. Where had he gone? A solitary figure stood out from the crowd as he leaned against the wall holding a glass and occasionally sipping at the liquid within. With a fond smile you walked over and nudged him softly.
"I know you're not a fan of noise and crowds but if you're asked to be the best man - which we both know you will be - you'd better get used to this." you teased softly, smile faltering when he gave no indication he’d heard you. “Mace? What’s wrong?”
“Do you think it's ironic that they want an Easter wedding? A holiday originally known for renewal and hope?”
Mace’s blue eyes were almost as icy as the barren tundra outside the four walls. His words made you nervous. Mace could be callous and curt in his ways but you’d never heard him speak like this before.
“Why are you asking me that? Our friends just got engaged. What’s gotten into you?”
Mace's shoulders slumped as he inhaled deeply. “Remember seven years ago when they sent the Icarus I team to try and reignite the Sun with a stellar bomb but for some unknown reason they failed?”
You nodded. Five and a half years ago it had been heavily speculated why the mission had failed as the last reports from the spacecraft had indicated everything was proceeding as planned but there was still no indication what happened.
“There’s a new mission to send a team to try and finish the job." He took another breath before looking at you. "I’ve been chosen to go.”
All the oxygen suddenly vanished as the ground beneath your feet swayed. Mace turned at your choked gasp. As he reached for you his concerned expression twisted as you stepped away from him. But how could he possibly centre you when he had just turned your world on its axis?
"You've been chosen?"
"I was their first choice. And I accepted." He watched you for a moment. “It’s a chance to change the world. To save it. How can I say no to that?”
There was the patriotic streak that drove his decision. Of course he’d do anything for his country, his world. But the two of you were meant to be friends who told each other everything. And he made this life altering potentially fatal decision without even speaking to you. You had hoped one day that the feelings you had for him would be reciprocated. But him making this decision alone just proved he did not feel the same way. Taking a few deep breaths you gripped the back of a chair before looking at him again.
"When?"
"A few weeks.” Mace watched you closely, hands twitching at his sides.
Nodding you stepped closer and let him hug you. “Then let’s not think about it tonight. Please?”
Mace nodded and held you close. Though the subject was not mentioned again for the rest of the evening you felt isolated both from the crowd and from the man who held your heart and was slowly breaking it.
The days before Mace’s departure seemed to fly by unfairly fast. Of all the people he knew Mace had chosen to tell his family and your friends. When they heard the news the couple confirmed they would have a long engagement to allow time for Mace to return. He tried to protest but surrendered in the end because he was their one and only choice for Best Man just as you were the only candidate they wanted as Maid of Honour. The remainder of his time on Earth was spent with his family and you, soaking up all the experiences and memories storing them for his time away.
The day before his departure to the launch site you both went to a beach town. Blue water slowly formed piles of ice shards as it ebbed and flowed. The two of you walked along the frozen beach quietly absorbing the cold salty breeze, the sounds of the ice moving in the water and the crunch of snow under your shoes. Mace drew to a halt at the edge of a cliff, his eyes roaming over the scene.
”Do you remember what it feels like?” You sensed Mace glancing at you but you looked out at where water met land. “Sand. Before all this.” Crouching your gloved hands went over the frozen tundra. “I went to a beach when I was little. I can remember how cold the water was. How hard it was to wash the sand away. But I don’t remember what it felt like under my feet.” Clapping your hands together you shook loose the snow that had stuck before shivering slightly.
Barely an instant passed before Mace pulled you into his side. His arm wrapped around you securely. “The dry sand was warm in the sun. Grainy. Kind of like sugar. But it felt itchy when it got wet. Sometimes sharp. I remember falling in the dry sand because it was soft but chasing my dad on the wet sand.” Mace’s voice was soft with remembrance. For a moment you were both lost in your memories.
”Imagine if the mission is successful. The beach would be sandy again. Trees and flowers would bloom. Humanity would live.” Mace looked down at you, his tone earnest but his eyes pleading. Feeling your throat close you just pulled him into a hug, hiding your face in the material of his coat.
The two of you went back to Mace’s where he’d spend his last night. Since he’d already said goodbye to his family you knew he didn’t want an emotional evening. And your own feelings be damned you’d grant his wish. As the two of you shed your snow gear you got your first glimpse of his head since you’d seen him a few days prior.
”You cut your hair?” Mace kept his hair close cropped but recently he’d let it grow long enough so the ends began to require styling and a hint of a beard began to form. Now he had reverted to the buzz cut and clean shaven face from his days as a soldier.
Mace shrugged. “Not like there’s gonna be a barber on Icarus. Saves someone using a chilli bowl.” When you snorted at the image he smiled.
“Maybe you could let it grow out while you’re away. Longer hair suited you.”
The two of you set to making dinner in a rhythm that was easy and familiar. Part of you wanted to make a big deal that this was his last night on Earth. Possibly forever. You shook the morbid thought away. But instead you silently both carried on as if this was a normal night of hanging out. You giggled when he burned his tongue because he didn’t think about blowing on the food first. He lobbed a cushion at you in retaliation. You pushed away your nearly cleared plate and he gobbled up the leftovers.
Once the dishes had been cleaned and put away you sighed sadly when you saw the time. Mace would have to leave early for the launch the next day. You prepared to stand and was surprised when he caught your hand.
“Hey. Look, we both know what tonight means. I don’t want to spend a second of it alone. Can - Do you -“ Mace shifted and mumbled before looking at you. “Would you stay? Please?”
“Of course.” If his broken question wasn’t obvious then the vulnerable look in his eyes was. You could no sooner decline his request than cut your own heart out. Mace went to dig out some clothes for you to sleep in while you made up the couch. While plumping the cushions to sleep on you looked up as Mace opened his mouth. Usually he’d argue for you to take the bed. When you shook your head he paused and closed his mouth. Neither of you needed to say it. Instead Mace climbed into bed while you tried to settle on the couch. You stared up at the ceiling unable to quiet your mind. Every now and again you heard rustling fabric as Mace shifted around. You hoped he’d sleep peacefully.
”You awake?”
Mace’s whisper disproved your thought.
”Yeah. What’s wrong?”
”Can’t settle.”
You deliberated before getting up and moving towards the bed. Despite the darkness you could see his faint outline as he lent up to see what you were doing. Sitting on his mattress you encouraged him to lay on his side as you laid next to him. One hand slipped under his head and began to gently rub his scalp. The short hairs felt soft yet scratchy under your fingers.
Mace let out a small noise of contentment and sank further into the bed. One arm banded around you to pull you closer. After a while soft snores filled the air as he slept peacefully.
As you continued your actions you took a moment to think about your relationship with this man. You and he had met the same night as your friends who were now engaged. Both of you had suggested going to the same bar and it was there your friends had literally bumped into each other. When there were any group events you and Mace would inevitably drift towards one another. Mace had been short and curt at first but had slowly warmed to you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to spend time together alone. As time had passed you developed feelings for him. He could be a hotheaded jerk that appeared cold and callous with his military background but you knew he cared deeply for a select few.
As Mace slumbered you wrestled with the decision of whether to reveal how you truly felt about him. One thing wouldn’t change - he would still go on the mission. And honestly though you wished he would stay you wouldn’t dream of stopping him. He had made the decision alone; it was his choice and you had to respect it. But there were so many possibilities. What if he didn’t feel the same as you? Not only was there the chance of making things awkward, it could also ruin your friendship. Mace’s mission was to save the world but you hated the thought of a world where you two weren’t friends.
But this could possibly be the last time you spent with him. Could you live with the constant what ifs? What if you never told him and the mission was unsuccessful? What if you missed your chance? Would you regret it? Not that Mace had ever given any indication that he saw you as anything but his friend.
Mace grumbled as you shifted. There was nothing you could do now. Instead you decided to see how you felt in the morning. But when you tried to pull your arm free from under his head Mace pulled you closer and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. Surprised you remained still until a further attempt to leave was met by Mace holding you tighter. You certainly didn’t have the heart to disturb him now even as it trembled from his sleep driven actions. Instead you carefully settled into his hold and cautiously placed your hand over his heart terrified that he might wake. Instead the gentle rhythm of his heart continued and slowly lulled you to sleep.
The first stirs of consciousness teased you as you shifted within a cocoon of warmth. Grumbling you snuggled into the material when Mace’s aftershave tickled your nose. Reaching out to pull him closer the sound of crackling filled your ears and finally roused you. The sight of a note on Mace’s pillow had your stomach lurching violently. Fingers trembling you reached for it.
‘Didn’t want to disturb you. Thanks for staying last night. Take care while I’m away. I’ll be in touch soon. Mace.’
Tear drops splattered and smudged the ink. Deep down you knew Mace always let you sleep as long as possible because he’d never shaken the routine of getting up early. But this felt like another confirmation that you were just his friend. Barely that since he thanked you like it was any other night. Another mission.
You were never having a wedding ceremony. At least not if it was anything like this.
When your friend decided on an Easter wedding you imagined along the lines of a few soft pastel colours for clothes and spring themed decorations with some flowers. The reality was a kaleidoscope of colourful fabrics worn throughout the venue while flowers bloomed from every nook and cranny hiding decorations adorned with chicks, lambs and bunnies which admittedly were cute. More than anything it was the chaos that was lending towards your avoidance.
As Maid of Honor the bride had tasked you to ensure that everything at the venue was perfect. After your third lap checking that everything was ready and running like clockwork weaving amongst staff who were making last minute adjustments and children being chased by parents who attempted to wrangle them into ‘nice’ clothes you felt the need for fresh air before returning to the bride.
Stepping outside you left the building and walked towards the edge of the property where a secluded stretch of beach sat and would offer you tranquility. As you walked you noticed the greenery and various plants starting to bud. Though this wedding had been planned for three years, it was truly symbolic that the Earth’s greenery was returning at Easter.
Eighteen months ago the Earth had been blanketed in snow and ice which had now melted from the majority of the planet. Reaching down you slipped off your shoes to dig your toes into the sand. Warm and grainy. Just as he said.
With a sigh you looked up at the blazing sun. Icarus II had obviously succeeded in their mission. But it was the lack of communication prior to and afterwards that worried you. Mace had kept in contact as he promised, leaving you frequent video messages telling you about the crew, his daily life on Icarus and how vast space really was. In return you kept him updated about his family and wedding preparations since there wasn’t much change on Earth. He had warned you when they were expected to reach the dead zone and to expect his last message beforehand. When you didn’t reply he promised that he would send a message. But a week before the expected date you woke up to find the sun burning brighter than it had in years. It hadn’t taken long to realise that something must have happened if the mission had been completed a week faster than expected.
While the planet rejoiced you wondered and worried because there was no communication from Icarus II. For the past 18 months you hoped and prayed but that hope began to dwindle. More than anything you wish that you’d told Mace how you felt. Silly as it sounded, a small part hoped that somehow he’d appear today because it was his next mission to be Best Man and see his best friend married.
Coming to a stop where the now ice free water ebbed and flowed along the shore you shivered when the cool tickled your toes but just watched the waves. Inhaling deeply the salt tinged air filled your nostrils and with each breath the melancholy melted into serenity.
“Peaceful isn’t it?”
Every bone in your body locked at the familiar voice you had not heard in person for three years. Heart pounding you slowly turned and took in his appearance as he stood feet away facing the ocean. A neatly trimmed beard lined his strong jaw and framed his mouth while thick brown locks were neatly combed back. He was also barefoot holding his shoes in one hand while his black tuxedo trousers were cuffed to avoid getting wet in the surf.
"On Icarus we had a room meant to simulate places on Earth. Forests, mountains… but I always chose the beach."
Mace turned with a serene smile that grew as you moved slowly towards him. When you were close enough you began slapping at his chest and whatever parts of him you could reach. Surprised he could only try to deflect your hits.
“Eighteen. Months. Not a word. Nothing but silence for eighteen months. What the hell, Mace?” Emotion bubbled in your chest but screw it if you'd break down before you got answers.
He caught your hands with one of his and tried to reason with you. “We lost two of the comm towers on the way. They were the two needed for the return journey. There was no way to contact Earth.” He finally tugged you close.
You squirmed, torn between wanting to hug him till his ribs broke or keep hitting him so he could understand even a hint of the pain you’d been in during the communications blackout. If you looked at him all the anger would vanish. Don't look at him yet.
“All right. That explains the radio silence. How about you missing your final check in? You promised, Mace.” A traitorous tear trickled down your cheek.
”I know.” He ducked his head so his forehead pressed to yours, blue eyes wide and beseeching. “We reached the dead zone a week early and had 12 hours to send our final packages.” You felt his forehead crease. “One of the crew took longer than his allotted time which meant I missed the window. Believe me, I let him know how happy I was about that.”
A snort escaped your lips as you tried to bite back a smile. That was also a valid explanation. Mace and his temper. He could be calm one moment and swing into a wild fury the next though you had never caused or witnessed the latter.
The wind blew and along with the scent of the ocean was his aftershave and something just Mace. Surrendering to relief you yanked your hands free only to throw them around his neck. Mace was obviously unprepared for the enthusiastic greeting given your first response but he flailed trying to regain his balance. Leaning back with a retort about being back on terra firma you froze when you saw his face properly. Because you had first seen him from a distance you had not seen the scarring on his handsome face until he was right in front of you. Unwinding your hands from his neck your fingers hovered over the marked flesh.
"Doesn't hurt." Mace caught one of your hands and rubbed it along the curve of his cheek. Your eyes travelled along his strong jaw to his neck which also showed signs of the scaring. Then a metallic glint attracted your attention. In his other hand Mace held a cane.
"Mace… what happened?" You could barely choke the words out suddenly terrified.
"Hey! The bride's looking for you, what the hell are you-" One of the groomsmen came running towards you both, pausing and frowning before he recognised the man standing with you.
"MACE! Holy shit when did you get back?"
As Mace opened his mouth the groomsman shook his head. "Later. You finished that mission now you gotta get your friends hitched. Let's go!"
Suddenly everything came flooding back. The wedding. Your friends. Your duties. But the last thing you wanted to do was leave Mace. He seemed to feel the same way as he smiled and guided your hand to his arm and you both walked carefully back to the venue. Thinking how to calm your friend and hopefully avoid her tongue lashing you decided to get her a glass of champagne since she was basically ready to walk down the aisle. Mace followed you to the bar and asked for a shot of whisky.
“Need a shot of courage for your Best Man nerves Mace?”
Mace shook his head. “Emergency supply for the groom but only if he’s stone cold sober. Besides as the Best Man I gotta look good with the Maid of Honor. Not hard to do when she looks so beautiful though.”
You murmured your thanks shyly before suddenly blurting out “I like your hair like that.”
Pink flushed his cheeks but he grinned. “Someone once said I should try growing it out. But maybe not the grunge look I had while I was away.”
Blushing you giggled at the memory. But before either of you could speak the same groomsman from before came skidding into the room. “Seriously? You two can catch up or canoodle later, you’ve got people waiting on you!”
With a squeak you grabbed the champagne and turned to move before glancing back at Mace.
“We’ll talk later. I’ll see you at the start of the aisle.”
Nodding you hurried back to the bride who was ready to tear you a new one. Luckily the champagne was a soothing balm along with your basic explanation. When she learned that Mace was back she was very forgiving and excited that the intended Best Man would be standing alongside her soon to be husband. Now you focused your attention knowing the time was fast approaching. Not only for the ceremony. But to be honest with Mace.
The ceremony was beautiful. Mace had escorted you up and down the aisle with quiet confidence despite the murmurs and whispers when people noticed the cane. The vows your friends exchanged caused you to tear up and look towards Mace who offered you a smile and winked which caused you to blush again.
What was he doing?
Now you were standing in the reception. Dinner had been served and now you sat watching the couple as they finished their first dance before welcoming others to join them. A hand appeared in your vision.
”May I have this dance?”
Despite wanting to so badly you couldn’t help glancing at his cane. “Mace, your leg.”
He shrugged. “I may not be able to do the Hokey Pokey but I can still move around.”
When you stood he led you to the edge of the dance floor. The music wasn’t as loud and you had enough room that you could move at a suitable pace for him. You draped your hands around his neck while his rested on your waist. As the song played you were curious about his hair and ran your fingers through the silky strands before reaching the uneven scarring.
“What happened up there Mace?”
A haunted look crossed his face. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time.” When you opened your mouth to protest one of his fingers rested on your lips. “This isn't the time or place. " When you gave a slow nod of agreement his finger moved so his hand tilted your chin. His blue eyes were bright and watery. "But what I need you to know right now is that there wasn’t a moment during the mission where I wasn’t thinking of you. At one point I honestly thought I would never come back.” Crystal blue eyes became foggy and distant with remembrance.
As his body wracked with violent shivers from being in the coolant tank Mace cried out when he felt the mainframe digging into his trapped leg. Every attempt to twist it free resulted in more blood loss. Shuddering, he felt his grip start to slack.
”Mace?! It’s Capa we’re coming!”
The words barely registered but he heard them. Teeth chattering he tried to grip the ledge but could barely flex his fingers. The cold shook him to his core.
”Just hang on!”
All Mace wanted was stop being cold and be warm again. Warm… like how he’d felt waking up that last morning with you. How he craved to feel that again. He’d been surprised that you were still in his arms and even more surprised that you held him as tightly as he held you. When you burrowed deeper into his hold he felt warm. Not just from your proximity or being wrapped in the covers. But a warmth that started in his heart and spread throughout his whole being.
Along with pain in his leg Mace then felt a sharp stab of regret. Why had he left that morning without waking you? He could have held you one last time, seen your smile and heard his name like it was your favourite word. And suddenly your face burst into his mind with that soft smile you reserved just for him.
Not like this. It wasn’t going to end like this. He had to see you. Talk to you. Hold you. Tell you.
You trembled at the look on his face as his warm blue eyes focused on you once more.
“You got me through it. You kept me alive and hoping.”
"Mace, I-"
“Ladies and gentlemen please clear the dance floor for the bouquet and garter toss.”
Cursing the timing once again you frowned as Mace gently escorted you off the dance floor and towards your table. Once you were sat he went to move but stopped when you caught his hand.
”I promise I’ll be back. Just need a drink.”
Jealousy swirled in your stomach as you watched him at the bar. A woman was practically throwing herself at him and you could see that he wasn’t responding but still she persevered. When you stood and headed over - either to run interference or kick her ass - he faced her and you could see that his eyes were cold like ice. She almost withered under his glare before scuttling away. Mace then turned to you and the icy glaciers melted into blue pools when his gaze met yours as he raised a brow.
“That looked painful. I'm guessing she wasn’t impressive enough for Space Engineer James Mace?” You teased gently, wanting to know why she’d left so quickly.
Mace took a swig from his drink before setting it on the bar. “She was wasting her time. There's one woman whose attention I want.” His gaze settled on you as he stepped close to you. “One woman I want. One woman I love.”
“Your one?” You breathed as his hands rested on your hips while yours looped up around his neck.
“My only one.” Mace’s kiss was as soft as his whisper but you felt the depth behind both the words and the action.
“You’re my only one too Mace.”
Standing on tiptoe you sought Mace's mouth and moaned softly when he pulled you into his hold one arm moving to your back while the other cupped the back of your head. From how firmly he held on it seemed he wouldn't be letting go in the short or long term. A few tears of joy spilled down your cheeks before you could stop them. Today had started with the final ember of hope for Mace's return flickering away. Just like his mission he not only reignited the flame but strengthened it with his declaration. All those years of wondering and worrying were worth the wait.
As you and Mace continued to kiss, neither of you noticed the commotion over the garter and bouquet tosses. When the men began jeering your eyes open to see that the blue garter had landed on his head. As you raised a hand to pluck it off the bouquet landed between your bodies. Mace blinked in surprise before grinning. “Looks like you’re gonna be my only one for a long time.”
Summary: it started as a accident and then continued for mutual benefit. Then when things get complicated, is this agreement really something you get let go of so easily?
Author's note: my entry for @thelovebombbang. Hope everyone enjoys it!!!
Warnings: mentions of nightmares and murder, smut
It started accidently.
You and Bucky practically collapsed into the safe house. You flopped down onto the sofa, wincing as you inelegantly rolled off of it and landed on the floor with a loud thump. You groaned, turning onto your back but you were too tired (and sore) to move.
“Come on,” you winced as Bucky nudged you with his foot, “get up.”
“Can’t. Tired.”
“You’ll be comfier in the bed.”
“Your turn for the bed.”
During this mission Bucky had practically always given you the bed. You thought it was just a hang over from the forties and that he was just being chivalrous. Bucky said that it was because he healed quicker than you so you needed the extra support and comfort a proper mattress provided. Either way, you still felt guilty about hogging it each night.
Especially as it didn’t help with the nightmares.
The constant, ever present, ever tortuous nightmares.
The voices of those you hurt or killed swimming across your mind. The voices of the guilty mixed with those of the innocent. The innocent voices were the worst ones. The people who didn’t deserve to die and yet still died. Those who you couldn’t save or got in the way or were just… collateral damage. That was how some of your more callous ex-colleagues described it.
Surprisingly, it didn’t help.
You slowly stood back up before sitting heavily on the sofa, shutting your eyes. It was a surprisingly comfy sofa for a safe house. Most of these places were furnished to the bare minimum so you weren’t expecting anything like this. You were vaguely aware of Bucky standing over you.
“Bed.” he demanded
You opened one eye and gave him a pointed look.
“That tone might work on most people,” you said, “but it won’t- hey, what the fuck!”
You gasped as Bucky suddenly lifted you into his arms. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself and glared at him. You felt your face get hot as you realised just how close your faces were. Bucky, the bastard, didn’t seem to notice or if he did he just didn’t care. How long had it been since you were this close to another person and not in just a professional capacity.
“We’re here.”
Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked down at the bed and then up at Bucky. Your grip tightened around his neck as he gave you an exasperated look.
“This isn’t going to help.” Bucky said
“Tough.”
You clung on tightly as Bucky tried to dump you on the bed. To your horror, all that did was drag him down on top of you. Before he could land on you, Bucky steadied himself by propping his hand by the side of your head.
Fuck.
“Let. Go.” Bucky said, is voice calm
“No.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Fine.”
You grunted as Bucky landed on top of you. You grimaced and pushed him to the side as you turned your back on him. You were aware of Bucky shifting beside you but you were too tired to give a fuck.
“So,” it was Bucky that shattered the silence, “this is it.”
“What’s the matter Barnes. Never shared a bed with a woman before?”
“Very fucking funny.”
“Or has it just been a while?”
You stiffened when you suddenly felt Bucky’s breathe against the back of your neck. You hadn’t even realised that he had turned to face you, well, your back. You resisted the urge to lean against him. A warm, comforting (probably) chest that part of you longed to lean against.
Not because it was Bucky, heaven forbid, but because it was someone. Someone warm. Someone there. Someone who wasn’t going to run away. Someone who would be there when you woke up in the morning.
Still, you resisted the urge to lean back against him. This was just for the night or maybe just for the mission but not for any longer than that. After all, once Bucky realises what fitful sleeper you are, he’d never want to share a bed with you again.
However much you might secretly wish for that to happen.
*
You let out a soft groan as you slowly woke up, wincing as the aches from the previous night came back in full force. You sat up slowly rubbing your eyes, well, tried to sit up. The firm arm around your waist prevented you from moving too far. You frowned down at him and tried to price yourself free but Bucky was, unsurprisingly, stronger than you.
“Stop that,” he muttered, “it’s too early.”
You glanced down at the clock and blinked in surprise.
“Actually,” you said, “it isn’t. It’s almost ten in the morning.”
Now this got Bucky’s attention. He sat up straight, still far too close to you for your liking. You could believe it. This was the longest you had slept in one go in ages. It felt strange to have a night without some form of bad dream.
Eventually you forced yourself to peel yourself out of Bucky’s arm. You didn’t want to call it an embrace. That would just add unnecessary complications that you didn’t want in your new team and certainly not with Bucky of all people.
You heard Bucky shift behind you. His arms fell heavily on the mattress as you pulled yourself free. The silence between the two of you was stifling, something that was rare. You felt most comfortable around Bucky, probably because you knew him the longest. Fuck, you were even trying to smooth things over between him and Sam.
“Can’t even remember the last time I had a night without nightmares.” you muttered to yourself
“That’s not healthy, darlin’.”
Shit. You weren’t expecting Bucky to have heard you. You glared at him over your shoulder just in time to see him put a shirt on. You swallowed thickly as you watched the muscles on his back flex and quickly looked away.
Snap out of it.
Don’t think about Bucky in that way.
“Don’t call me that.” you said
“Alright, doll.”
You didn’t have the energy to retort, despite having a full night’s sleep. You stood up and stretched as Bucky said,
“Aren’t you curious?”
“What about?”
“Your nightmares. Why didn't they come?”
“Probably just too tired to remember them.” you lied
It was a weak lie and you both knew it. You watched as Bucky stretched out of the bed. He cocked his head to the side and said,
“I wonder what happened tonight which made it different.”
“I know what you’re getting at,” you said, “and what? Your super soldier serum suddenly gave you, what, mutant powers to help people sleep? Maybe I need to get in contact with Professor X. I’m sure Charles would be very interested in that.”
You could practically hear Bucky’s eyeroll. The bed dipped as he moved closer to you. You tensed, resisting the urge to move away.
“Aren’t you curious?” he asked, breath fanning across your neck
Fuck. Did Bucky know what he was doing to you? You looked over at him, locking gazes with him. Maybe things were different back in his day. Maybe people in the thirties liked it when others invaded their personal space?
Or maybe Bucky just liked being a dick.
Yeah, that was more likely.
“It was a one off,” you said firmly but you could hear the hint of doubt in your voice, “tomorrow it’ll be back to normal and I’ll be on the sofa.”
And you’ll be back to the nightmares as well. Maybe Bucky too. You’ve heard him waking up in the middle of the night, after your own nightmares have caused sleepless nights. Neither of you spoke about it in the light of day. It was just another open secret that was to be kept in the dark of the night.
“Curiousity killed the cat.” you said, trying fruitlessly to convince yourself as well as Bucky
“And satisfaction brought it back,” Bucky countered, “and I won’t allow you to take the sofa again. So we might as well just share the bed.”
“Fine,” you said, “but just to prove to you that this was a one off.”
*
You hated this.
You hated sharing your space with someone else.
You hated how you could feel Bucky when you moved, his leg pressing against yours.
You hated how right this felt.
But most of all you hated how this was going to be the last night of this.
“Stop. Moving.”
You paused briefly when you heard Bucky’s sleepy, grumpy voice. It had been a long day but at least the mission was finally over. All you had to do was get through tonight and it would all be over. You could go back to the tower and be in your own bed and-
“Sorry,” you muttered, “bit of a restless sleeper.”
You shifted against and accidentally kicked Bucky. You gasped as he spun around, latching his arms back around you and pulling you firmly against his chest.
“I can tell,” he said, “but it’s distracting.”
“Oh is it?”
You couldn’t help the teasing edge to your voice which only amplified the intimacy of your situation. You had never been in this sort of position with a teammate before. You shifted again, your foot brushing against Bucky’s leg before you sat up.
“This was a mistake,” you said firmly, “I shouldn’t have- woah!”
Once again you were pulled against Bucky’s chest. It was easy to forget just how strong he actually was but when he manoeuvred you like you were a ragdoll you became acutely aware. Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and said quietly,
“We had a deal. No backing out of it now, doll.”
Fuck.
You hated what that nickname did to you. It was such an old fashioned nickname but the way your stomach fluttered whenever Bucky used it, well, you knew that feeling all too well. You shifted as you felt Bucky’s breath ghost over your ear.
Far too intimate for the status of your relationship, that of which was just colleagues.
Yes, just two colleagues who happened to be sharing a bed. It wasn’t like that hadn’t happened before (just not with Barnes). After all, in your line of work people shared cramped spaces all the time so why should now be any different?
And when you woke up in the morning, you hated how right Bucky had been.
*
It had been two weeks since you and Bucky came back from your mission. Two weeks and the nightmares returned and you hardly had a wink of sleep. You hated how pathetic you felt knocking on his door in the middle of the night hoping that none of the others would see you.
Part of you didn’t want Bucky to hear your knock but to your horror he opened the door almost immediately. You felt your chest get hot at his shirtless body and you swallowed thickly, opening your mouth but no words came out. Instead, Bucky stepped aside wordlessly and you quickly stepped in. The longer you were outside the more likely it was that someone would see you.
“Drink?” he asked
“No. Thanks though.”
Bucky nodded but poured himself one as a tense silence fell over the two of you. You picked at the sleeve of your dressing gown and paced around his room.
“They’ve returned?”
You looked over sharply at Bucky’s words. His muscles tense as you said quietly,
“Yes.”
“How bad.”
“Bad.”
‘Bad enough to come back to this nonsense.’ you thought
You sunk down onto the bed and ran a hand over your face. You looked up as you felt the bed dip as Bucky sat next you to. You were so tired that you couldn’t help but lean against him. Immediately he wrapped an arm around you. You shut your eyes as you savoured the sensation of being close to… someone.
“So,” you opened your eyes at the teasing tone in Bucky’s voice, “you decided that I was right. That this does work.”
“Ah,” you pulled away slightly, poking him in the chest, “it worked last time but it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’ll work again. Different environments and all that shit.”
“So this is what, a science experiment?”
“Maybe.”
You flopped back against the mattress, shutting your eyes as you felt sleep overcoming you. You were vaguely aware of Bucky shifting you so you were lying more comfortably on his bed. He pressed up against you, his chest against your back as he slung an arm over your waist. If you weren’t so tired you’d have pushed him away but for the night you could let go and enjoy this.
Just one more night where you could sleep without nightmares.
Just one more night.
*
It wasn’t one more night though and part of you knew that. It had been going on for almost two months now. You sneaking into Bucky’s room and, one a couple of occasions, Bucky appearing at your door. You couldn’t help but savour those memories even though you knew how desperate he must be to come to you. However, Bucky came to you of all people. It was a level of trust that none of the others had.
You were relaxing once more, enjoying a cup of tea as you looked out at the New York skyline. You never would’ve been able to afford a view like this in any other job. Almost made all the horrors worth it (but not quite).
You froze as Yelena suddenly sat down next to you. You tried to stand up but Ava appeared and dragged you back down onto the sofa. While you had certainly grown closer to the two women it still felt strange being trapped between two killers. Not that your hands were entirely bloodless.
“So,” Yelena said, “what were you doing sneaking out of Bucky’s room this morning.”
You glared sharply at Ava. Ava pointedly ignored your glare. You had exactly planned to run into her when you tried to leave Bucky’s room. In fact, you thought she was out of the tower. In hindsight you should’ve known she’d tell Yelena as soon as you saw the incredulous look on Ava’s face. There was only one thing the two of them liked more than pissing off Walker and that was gossip.
“You told her?!” you said
“Obviously.” said Ava
“Look,” you held your hands up, “it isn’t what it looks like.”
“And what does it look like?” asked Yelena, a bit too innocently for your liking
“You two think that I’m fucking Bucky.”
There was a beat of silence before Ava said,
“Well. Are you?”
“And,” said Yelena, “what’s it like.”
“Buck,” you said slowly, “and I are not fucking. We have an… arrangement.”
“Ooh,” Yelena said, leaning closer, “Buck. He never lets anyone call him that.”
“I,” you felt your cheeks get hot, “it really isn’t what you think.”
“Then what is it,” said Ava, “because otherwise we’ll think the worst.”
“Or the best,” shrugged Yelena, “depending on what it is.”
“Bucky,” you said firmly, “and I are sleeping together.”
“So you are-” started Ava
“Literally,” you interrupted firmly, “we share a bed to… to help stop the nightmares.”
You said the last part as a whisper but you knew they heard it. They must have nightmares the same as you and Bucky. You leant back against the sofa as you clutched the cooling tea hoping to find some comfort in it.
“And does it work,” asked Ava, “because if it does maybe the rest of us can-”
“Oh fuck you!” you said, smiling pushing her playfully
“I think Bucky’s wanting to do that to you already.”
“What?!”
“Oh I’m serious,” said Ava, as she smiled, “haven’t you seen the looks he’s been giving you recently. It’s… sickening.”
You looked at Yelena, hoping that she’d help you. However, she just shrugged and took another sip of her drink.
“You haven’t noticed?” Yelena asked
“I…” you said quietly
“You’re in his room most nights,” Yelena continued, “he must be good if you keep going back to him.”
“I said-” you started
“Yeah, yeah,” Yelena interrupted, waving a hand, “to ‘stop the nightmares’. But is that what Bucky thinks?”
“I’ve made it clear…” you said quietly
Ava and Yelena shared A Look. You had occasionally noticed Bucky staring at you but he always looked away as soon as you spotted him. It was just a coincidence. That was all. It didn’t mean anything.
Right?
Maybe you needed to clear the air between the two of you just to make sure Bucky knew where he stood. This was for the best after all. No need to complicate a situation when things are already so good between you.
*
Bucky sat down heavily on the sofa, beer in hand. It was a rare moment of peace which was almost instantly shattered by Alexei sitting down (a bit too close in Bucky’s opinion) to him. Before Bucky could move away Walker sat down on the other side. Bob was curled up in an armchair opposite.
“This is nice,” Alexei’s booming voice did little to ease Bucky’s irritation, “a night just for us men!”
You had gone out with Ava and Yelena. When the three of you became so close, Bucky had no idea. However, he wasn’t so keen on the idea of you going out even though he knew you were a more than capable adult. He just knew that you’d be getting in late which meant that you wouldn’t be in his bed (or his arms) that night.
And that meant the nightmares would return.
“This is good,” Alexei continued, either not noticing or ignoring Bucky’s growing irritation, “male bonding. Like your girlfriend and my daughter.”
This caused Bucky to choke on his beer and for Walker to unfortunately start slapping him on his back. Well, now he had two people to… hurt. The amused look on Bob’s face wasn’t helping the situation but Bob was, well, Bob.
“Isn’t Ava with them as well?” said Walker, taking a swig from his own beer, “when did those three become close enough to go out?”
“What I was thinking.” muttered Bucky, “besides, y/n isn’t my girlfriend.”
“Then why does she leave your room in the mornings?”
Bob’s quiet question cut through the room like a knife. Bucky’s head whipped around to look at him and Bob gave him a small, slightly uncertain, smile. At least he was aware of the line he had crossed.
“It isn’t like that. We’re just… helping each other out.”
“Ah, mutual need. Stress relief.” said Walker
“Don’t you fucking call her that!”
Bucky’s words were harsher than he intended and an awkward silence settled over then. Bucky took another swig of his beer, hoping it would calm him down or at least distract him. Walker held up his hands in surrender as he leant back against the sofa.
“Alright,” he said, “alright. But, you and y/n aren’t together.”
Bucky stared at him for a moment before nodding.
“So she’s available then.”
Bucky’s grip on his beer bottle tightened and he heard the glass start to creak under his grip. Slowly he relaxed his hand and from the smug look on Walker’s face he knew exactly what he was doing.
Bastard.
*
It was late, or early depending on who you asked, when the three of you finally staggered back into the tower. You slumped against the door to your room as you watched Yelena and Ava head back to their own rooms. When you were sure they were gone you pushed yourself off of it and headed along the oh so familiar route to Bucky’s room.
When you finally reached it you knocked on the door. In the comparative silence of the tower that simple noise sounded far too loud. Almost immediately the door was flung open and you looked up at Bucky. Fuck, he hadn’t been waiting for you had he?
“Hey.” you said weakly, looking at the floor
“Hey.”
“You, umm, you couldn’t sleep?”
The words hung heavy in the air and you rubbed your face, not caring that your make up was getting smudged. Suddenly Bucky’s fingers were under your chin, tilting it up so you were looking into his eyes. Everything else melted away. Just in this moment it was the two of you. Nothing else mattered. Just you and Bucky.
You were jolted out of your thoughts by the feeling of Bucky’s breath against your lips. Fuck, when had he gotten so close.
“Yeah,” he said, “couldn’t sleep without you next to me. Can’t anymore. Need you next to me.”
You stiffened as his lips brushed against yours and immediately jumped back. The silence between you shifted and Bucky’s hand hung awkwardly in the air. Slowly he lowered his hand, looking away from you. You hugged yourself tightly, not wanting to look at him. You shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as you muttered,
“This is getting complicated. We… we don’t need any more complications.”
“Right.”
Finally you looked up and as soon as you did you wished you hadn’t. Bucky’s jaw was clenched tightly and he was pointedly looking away from you. He glanced briefly down at you and when your eyes locked he immediately looked away.
“Good night Bucky.” you said quietly
“Yeah. Night.”
You flinched as the door slammed shut. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself not to cry. You couldn’t remember the last time you cried and you certainly weren’t about to cry over Bucky fucking Barner. Fuck him for pulling these emotions out from where you thought you’d locked them away.
This was for the best.
*
It had been weeks since you ended your arrangement with Bucky.
Weeks since you had a proper night's sleep.
You rubbed your face as you looked up at the familiar bar. It was a shitty little bar down an alley in one of the sketchier areas of New York. However, it was a place where the owner knew better than to ask any questions and therefore it was the perfect hang out for any heroes. You used to come here with Sam, Steve and Nat back in the day.
You slowly pushed open the door and walked in. A couple of regulars looked up but looked down at their drinks. You didn’t pay them any attention. This wasn’t that kind of place to start any fights. You swallowed thickly as you spotted the booth you used to sit in. It seemed like only yesterday that the four of you would be occupying it until the early hours.
“Fucking hell. You look like shit.”
You looked up as Sam approached. He nodded towards the booth.
“You good?” he asked
“Yeah.”
You joined him, sitting down opposite him as he pushed a drink towards you. You grasped it desperately, running a finger along the rim of your glass. Sam took a swig from his own drink, studying you intently.
“I meant to say thanks,” you said eventually, “for not suing.”
Sam shrugged.
“A pause,” he said, “we all have enough shit going at the moment.”
“An indefinite pause?”
“We’ll see.”
You gave him a weak smile which did little to ease Sam’s concerns. He folded his arms and leant back.
“Ok,” he said firmly, “what the fuck is going on?”
“Sam-”
“And don’t bullshit me. I’ve known you long enough to know when you are.”
“Fine. Bucky and I are sleeping together.”
Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise and you quickly added,
“Not like that. We’re not fucking but we’re literally sleeping together. As in sharing a bed.”
“Good to know you haven’t completely lost it and you’re not fucking the bionic man.”
“Sam!”
“So is that why you’re looking like that?”
“Like what.”
“Like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Weeks really.”
Your glass suddenly became the most interesting thing in the room as Sam gave you a concerned look. Fuck, this wasn’t what you hoped would be happening when you asked Sam for a drink. You had hoped that he would be a comforting, and distracting, presence. You did miss your old friend.
“Fucking hell,” he said, “you actually like him.”
“He’s my comrade and friend of course I-”
“That’s not the type of ‘like’ I meant.”
“Fucking hell. What are you, a child?”
“Look,” Sam said, ignoring the jab, “it’s clear that this fucked up arrangement is working for you and Buck. I’ve seen your interviews. You looked happy.”
“I was. I mean,” you corrected quickly, face hot, “I am.”
“With Buck.”
“No. Yes? I don’t know.”
“Because he is with you.”
“How the fuck do you know that?”
“I have my sources. Confidential sources.”
“I thought only journalists were allowed to keep their sources confidential?”
“Look,” Sam gave you a disapproving look, “all I’m saying is that good things don’t always come around that often so you’ve got to take them when they come around. Even if you do have shit taste and it’s with Robo Cop.”
“Yeah,” you said quietly, thinking over Sam’s words, “thanks Sam.”
*
While the walk back to the tower wasn’t actually that long, it still felt like hours. You didn’t realise you were in front of Bucky’s room until you were looking up at the door. Just as you were about to leave the door opened and you were looking back up at Bucky. The memory from the past week flooded back to you and for one sickening moment you were afraid that Bucky would shut the door on you.
Instead, he stepped aside and you immediately walked in.
For a moment neither of you spoke. A heavy silence filled the room until you slumped forward, resting your head against his chest. Almost immediately Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, keeping you close against his chest. You shut your eyes tightly, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Hearing it, the proof that he was alive, that he was with you, was comforting. It was something you missed waking up to.
You looked up at him, reaching up to cup his face. You brushed your thumb against his cheekbone as you said,
“Last time-”
“Forget it,” Bucky interrupted, “I shouldn’t have pushed.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I wanted it but I was… I was afraid.”
“Of me.”
The certainty in Bucky’s voice made you wince.
“No,” you shook your head, “no. Of this being something more. I was afraid of getting close to someone again. People I get close to tend to get hurt or die or…” you trailed off and shook your head, “and then I think of all the shitty things I’ve done. The people I’ve hurt and killed all in the name of freedom or the greater good and I think that I don’t deserve this. That I don’t deserve to be happy.”
You hadn’t realised you’d been crying until Bucky brushed away the tears. His metal hand was cool against your cheeks and once again he tilted back your chin.
“You want this?” he said softly against your lips
“There’s nothing I want more.”
“Good.”
This time you didn’t pull away when Bucky kissed you. Instead you leant into the kiss, eagerly opening your mouth for him. You felt Bucky smile against your lips as he deepened the kiss, his hands settling on your waist as he moved you back towards the bed. The backs of your knees hit the bed and you fell back against the mattress. Bucky straddled you, hands planted by the side of your head before once again pressing his lips back against yours.
You wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers in his hair. You liked his hair like this. It was long enough for you to do this and from the deep moan Bucky gave, it sounded like he was enjoying it. Slowly you moved your hands downwards, tugging at his trousers.
“I need you,” you panted, reluctantly breaking the kiss, “I need you in me.”
Bucky groaned at your words. You hand delved into his trousers, grasping him as you slowly rubbed his coc. Bucky’s hips rocked against your hand as you continued to rub him. You heard him gasp your name and you quickly removed your hand, spreading your legs wider.
“Last chance,” Bucky muttered against your lips, “last chance to stop this. I won’t-”
“Bucky.”
“Yes darlin’?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
“As you wish, doll.”
You gasped as he suddenly pushed into you. You had been so absorbed with looking up at Bucky (and reassuring him) that you hadn’t realised he was half undressed. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you got used to the stretch.
“You good?”
You shifted slightly under him before nodding. Your fingers dug into his shirt as you felt him move. Fuck, how long had it been since someone had fucked you like this? Too long. How long had you been having these fantasies about Bucky? Also too fucking long.
And now they have become reality.
“Do you know,” Bucky panted, “do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do this?”
“H…how long?”
Bucky’s hips stuttered against yours. You groaned as he suddenly spun you around. You looked down at him, putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself and make sure you kept up his pace. You moaned as you sunk down on him.
“Too fucking long.”
You let out a breathy chuckling, remembering your earlier thoughts. You leant down, pressing your lips against his as you moved faster, clenching around him.
“I… I’m close Buck.”
“Good. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
“Bucky!”
You moaned as you slammed back down on him, collapsing on top of him. Bucky gave a couple of hard thrusts up before spilling into you. You rolled off of him, resting your head on his chest. You let out a groan of protest as Bucky started to move.
“Just going to clean you up.” he muttered
“Later,” you said, pressing your face against his chest, “want you here.”
Bucky huffed as you dragged him back down and tugged on his shirt. You smiled as he shrugged it off and tossed it to the side. You eagerly got undressed and pressed yourself against him. You pressed a kiss against his shoulder and muttered,
“Hey Buck?”
“Yeah darlin’.”
“I… I love you.”
The atmosphere in the room shifted and you wondered if you had gone too far. You glanced up at him.
“It’s ok if you don’t want to-”
You were interrupted by Bucky pressing his lips against yours. The kiss wasn’t as rough as the previous ones but it was no less passionate. He broke the kiss, smiling as you chased his lips.
“I love you too.”
*
You stretched as you headed into the kitchen. It was the morning after and you were pleasantly sore. You and Bucky had showered that morning, although neither of you got particularly clean. As you made yourself a coffee you heard a cough from behind you. You jumped around, mentally cursing yourself for your lack of awareness, as you saw the others giving you an amused look.
“Late night?” asked Ava
“Err, well, umm.” you stuttered
“Because,” she continued, “you’re wearing Bucky’s shirt.”
You looked down and cursed as you saw she was right. Ava held out her hand as Yelena and Walker reluctantly handed her some money.
“You can’t be serious,” you said, “you were betting on this?”
Ava shrugged, clearly not bothered by the moral implications of betting on her colleagues’ (friends?) romantic lives. Bucky paused in the doorway as he studied the situation then sighed and walked towards you and quickly stole your coffee.
“What the- Bucky!”
“What,” he shrugged, taking a sip of it, “thought I earned this after last night.”
You felt your face get hot. You definitely weren’t expecting him to be this open in front of the rest of the team.
“You are lucky man,” said Alexei, “now then Yelena, time for you-”
“No,” Yelena said, quickly heading towards the door, “no. We are not discussing this.”
You rested your head on Bucky’s arm which he automatically wrapped around you. Walker looked between you and Bucky and said,
“Next time, keep it down. Some of us would like to get some sleep.”
Finally alone you said,
“We are never going to hear the end of this are we?”
Bucky pressed a kiss against your temple and said,
My first Steve Rogers only fic! Also my fic for @thelovebombbang
Mood board courtesy of @indigo-jungle I really enjoyed collaborating with you!
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, past mention od Ransom Drysdale and reader
Warnings: none really. Mostly fluff. Some reflections of a past bad relationship with Ransom and his terrible family.
Also as always thanks to @e-dubbc11 for the beta read! Love you bunches!
🍪🥖🍲🍪🥖🍲🍪🥖🍲🍪🥖🍲🍪🥖🍲
The first breakup with Ransom was the hardest. You cried, you stayed in bed not sleeping, sometimes you didn‘t have the energy to eat or shower. A few days later he showed up at your door with flowers, full of apologies and promises that things would get better.
Things did not, in fact, get better. They got worse in fact. So, the second time you ended things, it still hurt, but you were determined this was for the best. You’d get through it and come out the other side better. Then Ransom showed up, whisking you away for a private retreat, to work things out. He made promises. No more taking you for granted. No more late nights out with people who didn’t like you and didn’t care he was in a relationship.
He lied.
By the third time, you were completely done. You were exhausted and more than ready to move on. The third time was going to be the one that stuck. You blocked him on everything, and let your assistant Jake know to not forward his calls or take his messages. He's an IT wiz and the biggest sweetie, not to mention your best friend. Once you came clean about everything, including Linda accusing you of being a gold digger even though you actually have a career and money of your own, he made sure there was absolutely no way Ransom could contact you directly. Unfortunately there was no way to block him from reaching out to mutual acquaintances but you would take what you could get. Your job was entirely remote, so you traded Boston for Brooklyn and started building a new, Drysdale free life.
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You found a lovely industrial style loft apartment with a park nearby. The kitchen was perfect for cooking; the appliances new. Granite countertops were perfect for kneading bread dough and rolling out pie crusts. The windows were large, letting in lots of light and warmth. You bought new furniture, new cookware, dishes, the works. Your grandparents had set up a large trust fund for you when you were born, and they insisted you use part of it for your move and new place. Your gran even sent you one of her gorgeous handwoven rugs as a housewarming gift. All in all, you were settling in nicely.
You only had one neighbor at the moment, but you hadn’t met them yet. You weren’t sure who your neighbor was, but you were fairly certain they lived alone and kept very odd hours. You knew they were home now, because you had been up when they got home. You heard their door open and shut before you went back to bed.
When you woke up again, it was snowing. Fat flakes fell gently in a swirling white cloud. It was the perfect weather for homemade soup and fresh baked bread. You decided to make enough to share, and take some to your unknown neighbor. Add in some chocolate chip cookies for good measure. You believed sharing good food could build good friendships. It worked with Jake, and your other best friend Ericca. Even Ransom had loved your baking. Nope, not thinking of him!
You pulled together everything you needed for a pot of your chicken pot pie stew and checked on the sourdough loaf you had started the night before. It needed a bit more fridge rise time, so you got started on the cookies. Once the dough was mixed and on the baking sheets, you put them in the fridge to rest a bit before baking. You’d found that they somehow baked better that way.
As the day rolled on you kept an ear out to make sure your neighbor didn’t leave before you could take the food over. Your apartment was filled with the scents of baking bread, cooling cookies and stew. Your stomach was starting to rumble when there was a gentle knock on your door.
You opened it to reveal Steve Rogers. THE Steve Rogers. Captain America. You were speechless. Why was he at your door?
“Hi, I’m Steve. I’m actually your neighbor. I’ve been meaning to come by and introduce myself, but I kept missing you. Wow, your place smells amazing!”
You introduced yourself back, a little dazed at first. You remember your manners enough to step aside and invite him in. He looked around, taking your apartment in at a glance.
“I have to ask what you’re cooking, because it smells amazing. Is that fresh bread I smell?” he asked with a smile. Not his media smile, but a genuine, warm one.
“Fresh sourdough actually. Also chicken pot pie stew and chocolate chip cookies. In fact, I made enough to share. I was going to bring some over and introduce myself…” You felt your face heat a little as the fact of who your neighbor turned out to be settled in.
Why would Captain America accept food from a random stranger just because they lived next door? You were sure he had people clamoring for his attention in much more meaningful ways.
“You were going to share? A home cooked meal? That…that might be the nicest thing someone’s done for me in about 70 years” Steve said, eyes shining with honesty.
“That can’t be true. If you’re hungry, it’s ready.” you said softly.
“It’s definitely the truth. Not everyone is so neighborly these days.”
That made you a little sad. Kindness shouldn’t be in short supply.
You labeled the stew into bowls while Steve sliced up the bread. It felt friendly, but also strangely domestic. You offered Steve some wine with dinner, and were surprised to hear that he enjoyed the taste but couldn’t get drunk.
Ever.
“The serum makes my body metabolize it too fast. I almost never drink because of it. Wine goes great with this though. You’re an amazing cook” he told you with that same warm smile and a slight flush to his cheeks.
If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was blushing.
“I enjoy cooking. There’s something about creating a meal and having it come together just right that’s so satisfying. Baking is my science, cooking is my art,” you say
Steve chuckled at this, but before you had a chance to feel like he was laughing at you, he asked, “Is baking a science?”
You nodded at him. “Absolutely! Baking requires you to follow a recipe exactly, or it won’t turn out right. Bread won’t rise, pie crusts won’t be flaky, cookies come out hard. But if you measure everything out exactly, it turns out like it’s supposed to. Cooking requires creativity though. Extra garlic. Some wine added to a sauce on the fly. Lemon zest. It’s more intuitive, I think.”
“That makes sense to me. I declare you an artist and a scientist!” he told you with a grin.
“That earns you dessert!” you grinned back, bringing out the plate of chocolate chip cookies.
“My favorite! How’d you know?” You hadn’t, but chocolate chip is usually a safe bet.
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Things with Steve started slowly. Sharing a home cooked meal, some wine and good conversation. When he wasn’t out on a mission, you made dinner to share a few times a week. As your friendship grew, you started spending more and more time together. He was at your house so often, you gave him a key so he could let himself in. You attached it to a keychain shaped like a chocolate chip cookie, which made him laugh.
You talked about everything and anything. He told you about Peggy, and you told him about the disaster that was your relationship with Ransom, including the last straw with Linda. Privately Steve thought that Ransom had to be a spineless excuse for a man to let his mother talk to his girl that way and not stand up for her. It made his blood boil, to be honest. He decided then and there that if you ever gave him a shot he would make you feel like the most cherished woman alive.
After a few months, you learned all of his favorite foods, especially his comfort foods. He loved your homemade fried chicken and mac and cheese when he was feeling wiped out after a mission. When he needed cheering up, cookies and homemade soup were the way to go. Eventually, Steve even asked you to teach him to make some of your recipes.
The first time he made bread with you, he presented you with a whole bread making kit, including the tools to cut designs into the dough. You showed him what to do, but when the time to knead came, he kneaded it too hard and you ended up with the densest loaf you’d ever seen. He tried eating it anyway, but it was a lost cause. So, you taught him to make overnight French toast with it instead.
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Steve took you to your first baseball game and cheered louder than anyone when you managed you catch a fly ball, with his help. He saw it coming and hoisted you up by your waist so you’d be high enough to catch it. To celebrate, he bought you a Mets hat that matched his.
Before you knew it, you were spending weekends at farmers markets and art fairs together, browsing the booths and coming home with interesting finds. Pretty one of a kind pottery, a handmade quilt, fruits and vegetables that were freshly harvested. You taught him to make apple pie, and he had a surprisingly light touch with pie crusts.
Once, while waiting for a pie to cool, a loud violent thunderstorm came out of nowhere. You curled up on the couch with a blanket to watch the lightning play across the sky, breathing in the rumble of thunder, letting the sound fill you. Steve sat beside you, more enthralled with you than the storm. You sighed and relaxed against him, head nesting into the spot on his chest that felt made for your head. Before you knew it, you were both asleep. Steve’s arms wound around you like it was the most natural thing in the world. When you woke, you placed the gentlest kiss on Steve’s chest, right over his heart. You didn’t know he felt it because he was awake too. You also didn’t know that he had placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before you had woken up.
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After countless pseudo dates, months of dinners together, Steve finally asked you on a formal date. The only thing Steve would tell you is to dress in pants and boots.
He picked you up at your door, looking incredibly handsome in his jeans, t-shirt, and the brown leather jacket you loved.
You greeted him with “Hi neighbor” and a smile.
Steve always looked handsome, but today, something about him standing in your doorway to take you out had butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“Hi back. You look gorgeous. Shall we?” he asked, holding an arm out.
You slipped your arm through his, closing your door behind you. He walked you out to his motorcycle, handing you a helmet.
“You okay riding” You nodded, hands shaking a little as you went to put the helmet on.
Steve stopped you with a hand on yours.
“Before we go, I just want to say…thank you. These last few months have been the best I can remember. I promise, I’ll never take you for granted, and I’ll always treat you right sweetheart.”
Then he leaned close and kissed you. It started soft, just a brush of his lips on yours. As he pulled back you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. You heard a noise that could have been surprise, but then Steve’s arms were wrapping around you, pulling you flush to him. The kiss deepened, filling with all of the emotions that had been building over the last few months. You realized you had fallen for Steve, but it happened so gradually, so gently, you hadn’t realized until this moment. He pulled back and you saw the love shining in his eyes
“I got you this. Was going to give it to you later, but now feels right.” He handed you a small velvet box. Inside was a delicate gold replica of his shield on a fine gold chain.
“Steve, I love it. It’s beautiful” you said softly, voice clogged with emotion.
As he put it on you, he leaned forward and whispered “I love you.”
You spun and leapt into his arms, saying it back as you kissed him again. You could feel the future stretching out in front of you. It felt happy and safe. It felt filled with love.
Our first Lovebomb Bang fic is here! Written by the amazing @bartonsparrow25, with a beautiful moodboard by @indigo-jungle - thank you both so, so much for joining my first event and collaborating on something wonderful!
Feel free to delete this once you've seen it, I'm the organiser of Lovebomb Bang - you signed up a little while ago and I wasn't sure if you'd seen my email asking if you were still interested in participating? I'm just starting to match up authors and artists so if you can drop me a note and let me know, I'd be so grateful! 🥰
hii, yes i just saw your email. and with all the holidays crazies, it seems i've forgotten about this completely, my bad. are you able to remind me what all this event is about?
Hiii! Thanks for replying! Everything you need is in the pinned post HERE and I totally understand if you're not able to participate anymore. There are a lot of writing events and challenges going on this month!
Hey just want check if writers were supposed to send in summaries by today or if they were going to receive other instructions? Thanks!
Hi love! I'm so sorry, Tumblr has been hiding this message from me!
All Lovebomb Bangers should have received a Tumblr message from @daydreamgoddess14 checking in to make sure you still want to participate. There are two people I've had to email instead.
There are 5 people I haven't heard back from just yet, two of whom I already know so have messaged again via Discord, the other 3 are new to my network so I'm going to try again to get in touch with them.
Feel free to drop me a message off Anon and I can see whether you're one of the people I need to catch up with 😘
If you haven't already seen them, check out the RULES & GUIDELINES post, and then head on over to the sign-up forms!
Writers
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th NOVEMBER (this HAS BEEN extended because the event fell flat on its face 🫣)
Artists
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th November (this deadline IS fixed)
Don't forget, the minimum word limit is 3k and artworks includes a whole range of options such as moodboards, playlists and gifs!
You can sign up to be BOTH writer and artist! 🎉
You can submit works that are also part of other events! We love collabs in this house so bring your Bucky Bingo cards and your other fun events to play!
Deadlines
For each deadline, check-ins will be expected no later than 11:59pm GMT.
Sign Ups Open: 1 October
Author Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Authors: Idea formed, some start made
Artist Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Check In #1: 17 December- 23 December
Artists: Expression of continued interest and confirmation of number of works to produce
Authors: Final summaries for artist claims
Artist Match Ups: 27 December - 31 December
Pairings Announced: 5 January
Check in #2: 7 January - 14 January
Artists and Authors: ideally nearly complete, posting schedule discussion
From my sickbed sofa yesterday, I totally forgot that the sign ups closed 😅 I have now made the Google forms inactive though, so no more sign ups! I just need to try and organising myself into getting in touch with the lovely peeps who signed up!
Authors - I'll be contacting you around the 17th December to see if you have some ideas and I'll be matching you with an artist after Christmas!
Artists - I know I messed up by not letting you select multiple methods of contributing, however there are only a couple of us so I can pick that up with you later 🙃
If you haven't already seen them, check out the RULES & GUIDELINES post, and then head on over to the sign-up forms!
Writers
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th NOVEMBER (this HAS BEEN extended because the event fell flat on its face 🫣)
Artists
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th November (this deadline IS fixed)
Don't forget, the minimum word limit is 3k and artworks includes a whole range of options such as moodboards, playlists and gifs!
You can sign up to be BOTH writer and artist! 🎉
You can submit works that are also part of other events! We love collabs in this house so bring your Bucky Bingo cards and your other fun events to play!
Deadlines
For each deadline, check-ins will be expected no later than 11:59pm GMT.
Sign Ups Open: 1 October
Author Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Authors: Idea formed, some start made
Artist Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Check In #1: 17 December- 23 December
Artists: Expression of continued interest and confirmation of number of works to produce
Authors: Final summaries for artist claims
Artist Match Ups: 27 December - 31 December
Pairings Announced: 5 January
Check in #2: 7 January - 14 January
Artists and Authors: ideally nearly complete, posting schedule discussion
If you haven't already seen them, check out the RULES & GUIDELINES post, and then head on over to the sign-up forms!
Writers
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 14th October (this could be extended if the event falls flat on its face 🫣)
Artists
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th November (this deadline IS fixed)
Don't forget, the minimum word limit is 3k and artworks includes a whole range of options such as moodboards, playlists and gifs!
You can sign up to be BOTH writer and artist! 🎉
You can submit works that are also part of other events! We love collabs in this house so bring your Bucky Bingo cards and your other fun events to play!
Deadlines
For each deadline, check-ins will be expected no later than 11:59pm GMT.
Sign Ups Open: 1 October
Author Sign Ups Close: 14 October
Check In #1: 12 November - 18 November
Authors: Idea formed, some start made
Artist Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Check In #2: 17 December- 23 December
Artists: Expression of continued interest and confirmation of number of works to produce
Authors: Final summaries for artist claims
Artist Match Ups: 27 December - 31 December
Pairings Announced: 5 January
Check in #3: 7 January - 14 January
Artists and Authors: ideally nearly complete, posting schedule discussion
If you haven't already seen them, check out the RULES & GUIDELINES post, and then head on over to the sign-up forms!
Writers
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 14th October (this could be extended if the event falls flat on its face 🫣)
Artists
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th November (this deadline IS fixed)
Don't forget, the minimum word limit is 3k and artworks includes a whole range of options such as moodboards, playlists and gifs!
You can sign up to be BOTH writer and artist! 🎉
You can submit works that are also part of other events! We love collabs in this house so bring your Bucky Bingo cards and your other fun events to play!
Deadlines
For each deadline, check-ins will be expected no later than 11:59pm GMT.
Sign Ups Open: 1 October
Author Sign Ups Close: 14 October
Check In #1: 12 November - 18 November
Authors: Idea formed, some start made
Artist Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Check In #2: 17 December- 23 December
Artists: Expression of continued interest and confirmation of number of works to produce
Authors: Final summaries for artist claims
Artist Match Ups: 27 December - 31 December
Pairings Announced: 5 January
Check in #3: 7 January - 14 January
Artists and Authors: ideally nearly complete, posting schedule discussion
If you haven't already seen them, check out the RULES & GUIDELINES post, and then head on over to the sign-up forms!
Writers
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 14th October (this could be extended if the event falls flat on its face 🫣)
Artists
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th November (this deadline IS fixed)
Don't forget, the minimum word limit is 3k and artworks includes a whole range of options such as moodboards, playlists and gifs!
You can sign up to be BOTH writer and artist! 🎉
You can submit works that are also part of other events! We love collabs in this house so bring your Bucky Bingo cards and your other fun events to play!
Deadlines
For each deadline, check-ins will be expected no later than 11:59pm GMT.
Sign Ups Open: 1 October
Author Sign Ups Close: 14 October
Check In #1: 12 November - 18 November
Authors: Idea formed, some start made
Artist Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Check In #2: 17 December- 23 December
Artists: Expression of continued interest and confirmation of number of works to produce
Authors: Final summaries for artist claims
Artist Match Ups: 27 December - 31 December
Pairings Announced: 5 January
Check in #3: 7 January - 14 January
Artists and Authors: ideally nearly complete, posting schedule discussion
If you haven't already seen them, check out the RULES & GUIDELINES post, and then head on over to the sign-up forms!
Writers
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 14th October (this could be extended if the event falls flat on its face 🫣)
Artists
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th November (this deadline IS fixed)
Don't forget, the minimum word limit is 3k and artworks includes a whole range of options such as moodboards, playlists and gifs!
You can sign up to be BOTH writer and artist! 🎉
You can submit works that are also part of other events! We love collabs in this house so bring your Bucky Bingo cards and your other fun events to play!
Deadlines
For each deadline, check-ins will be expected no later than 11:59pm GMT.
Sign Ups Open: 1 October
Author Sign Ups Close: 14 October
Check In #1: 12 November - 18 November
Authors: Idea formed, some start made
Artist Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Check In #2: 17 December- 23 December
Artists: Expression of continued interest and confirmation of number of works to produce
Authors: Final summaries for artist claims
Artist Match Ups: 27 December - 31 December
Pairings Announced: 5 January
Check in #3: 7 January - 14 January
Artists and Authors: ideally nearly complete, posting schedule discussion
If you haven't already seen them, check out the RULES & GUIDELINES post, and then head on over to the sign-up forms!
Writers
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 14th October (this could be extended if the event falls flat on its face 🫣)
Artists
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th November (this deadline IS fixed)
Don't forget, the minimum word limit is 3k and artworks includes a whole range of options such as moodboards, playlists and gifs!
You can sign up to be BOTH writer and artist! 🎉
You can submit works that are also part of other events! We love collabs in this house so bring your Bucky Bingo cards and your other fun events to play!
Deadlines
For each deadline, check-ins will be expected no later than 11:59pm GMT.
Sign Ups Open: 1 October
Author Sign Ups Close: 14 October
Check In #1: 12 November - 18 November
Authors: Idea formed, some start made
Artist Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Check In #2: 17 December- 23 December
Artists: Expression of continued interest and confirmation of number of works to produce
Authors: Final summaries for artist claims
Artist Match Ups: 27 December - 31 December
Pairings Announced: 5 January
Check in #3: 7 January - 14 January
Artists and Authors: ideally nearly complete, posting schedule discussion
If you haven't already seen them, check out the RULES & GUIDELINES post, and then head on over to the sign-up forms!
Writers
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 14th October (this could be extended if the event falls flat on its face 🫣)
Artists
Your form to sign up is HERE and you have until 25th November (this deadline IS fixed)
Don't forget, the minimum word limit is 3k and artworks includes a whole range of options such as moodboards, playlists and gifs!
You can sign up to be BOTH writer and artist! 🎉
You can submit works that are also part of other events! We love collabs in this house so bring your Bucky Bingo cards and your other fun events to play!
Deadlines
For each deadline, check-ins will be expected no later than 11:59pm GMT.
Sign Ups Open: 1 October
Author Sign Ups Close: 14 October
Check In #1: 12 November - 18 November
Authors: Idea formed, some start made
Artist Sign Ups Close: 25 November
Check In #2: 17 December- 23 December
Artists: Expression of continued interest and confirmation of number of works to produce
Authors: Final summaries for artist claims
Artist Match Ups: 27 December - 31 December
Pairings Announced: 5 January
Check in #3: 7 January - 14 January
Artists and Authors: ideally nearly complete, posting schedule discussion
Hi my darling Jules, just a quick question, for sign ups is it okay to include discord instead of email if we’re not comfortable sharing that? I still want to be able to participate if possible
hi my darling!
of course! if you just have a faux email address and then pop a note in your blog/user section to remind me 🙈 I'll go on now and update the forms to reflect this and will include a note to let people know!
