It’s Here!!

gimme an M, gimme a U (4/?)

Pairings: Yenzy (Jensen) x itty bitty (platonic) and Hockeyplayer!Ari Levinson x female reader (Levs x itty bitty)

Warnings: explicit language, physical violence- minor and not in detail (male towards male) excessive legal age drinking, heartache, angst, idiots in love and ruining it, bonehead Levs, MU team, itty bitty acting out of character, explicit sexual content implied- possibly a little dub con-ish depending on how you look at it, size kink- itty bitty is short and it’s making all the boys feral (must be 18+)

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: not beta read. All mistakes are my own.

I know she’s not here anymore but a thank you to my sweet friend Siri for reading though this and spitballing ideas with me ❤️

Levs (Ari) x itty bitty: hockey AU

Lucky Charms: hockey AU

So, just because there’s been some buzz around this part in particular- could I ask that you kindly put any spoiler comments/reblogs under a cut, please? 🙏❤️ Thank you for all your support! I appreciate all of you so much!

"He's freaking out, y/n... can you at least let him know you're OK?" Yenzy sighed, tapping the pencil on his notebook as he swiveled in his desk chair. He took his glasses off and rubbed at his tired eyes before replacing them.

It had been nearly a week since you left Ari at the arena and ever since the boys won, Ari had been calling you non-stop. Your mailbox was full and he had even accosted your roommate, drunk and begging for your whereabouts.

You had left- not even telling your roommate where you planned on going. You didn't have a plan. You just needed a place where he wouldn't find you. And he would never think to look for you... here.

"How 'bout an I'm OK, now fuck off text?" Yenzy smirked.

"No" you snorted stubbornly, "he can eat shit" you double hiccuped and then giggled.

Yenzy heard a muffled male voice in the background of wherever you were, you pulled the phone away and held it to your chest as you spoke to the unidentified male, Yenzy only hearing bits and pieces of a garbled conversation.

"Hey, bit..." Yenzy called into the phone.

"You're dumb... it's not a catchphrase..." you scoffed, bringing the phone back to your ear, "anyone can say that..." you said, addressing the male voice.

"Bitty..." Jake tried again, louder this time.

"Yuck..." your hiccuped was a squeak, "don't call me that... I hate it... I hate that stupid nickname... who cares if I'm short? He's a big dumb giant" you harrumphed.

"How much have you had to drink?" Yenzy asked, concern laced his tone.

"Dunno" you sighed into the phone with a shrug, "but I need a refill..." you sang out to no one in particular.

"Are you at least being safe?" Yenzy asked with a heavy exhale, "where are you?"

"I'm fine" you assured, "I just need to not feel for awhile, Yenz" you dropped your voice so only Yenzy could hear you, "and I'm not telling you... cause then you'll tell him and he'll come find me... and I'm not... ready" your voice was growing watery again as you thoughts drifted back to Ari.

You couldn't think of him for too long- you wouldn't let yourself- or it would start the spiral of devastation all over again. He had been your everything for the past two years and you were his... nothing.

Why did it take you so damn long to realize that? You felt like a joke.

You were nothing but a good time for him. A stop  in between his revolving door of partners. Maybe he had been sleeping with others all along- even when he said he was waiting to score with you.

You felt like you were going to be sick. Clearing your throat as you wiped the tears with the back of your borrowed sweater.

"Y/N..." Yenzy blew out another exhale -completely over being in the middle of all of this- he had clearly been trying to get your attention as you were lost in thought, "just be careful, please? And call me if you need anything... I won't tell him if you don't want me..." but Jensen's words were cut short when there was a loud commotion on his end of the phone.

"What the hell?" Yenzy huffed when his bedroom door flung open with a force that rattled the house.

"Is that bit? Where is she? Gimme the phone" Levs' demanded as he rushed across the room.

Ari looked disheveled; bloodshot eyes, hair tossled from racking his hands through it one too many times and he smelled like booze.

"Levs... she doesn't want to tal..." Yenzy started before Levs yanked the phone from the goalie's hand.

"Bit?" Levs tried to keep his voice even but it trembled. The line was dead.

"Fuck" Levs yelled, nearly cracking Yenzy's phone when he closed his fist around it with a snarl. His face flushed pink as he seethed down at his teammate.

"Why didn't you tell me she was talking to you?" Levs barked, "I've been trying to get a hold of her for days..."

"Jesus, man... get a grip" Yenzy said, standing and maneuvering around Levs as he tried to leave his room, "she doesn't want to talk to you."

"Get a grip?" Levs spun around, "she's my... my..."

"Your what, man?" Yenzy goaded, "you're a mess 'cause she left and you still can't fucking admit what she is to you..."

"Fuck you, Jensen" Levs growled.

"That's it... keep deflecting..." Yenzy scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"SHE'S MY FUCKING EVERYTHING" Levs yelled in a drunken rage as he threw Yenzy's phone to the floor.

Yenzy's jaw ticked, his fists clenched at his sides- he moved to pick his phone up, but Ari took an aggressive step towards the goalie, boxing him in against his bookcase.

"Then why don't you fucking tell her that?" Yenzy shot back, matching Levs' volume but not his bite.

"Watch it" Levs' anger was barely contained, boiling just under the surface.

"You've been stringing y/n along for how many years now?" Yenzy asked, "she's gone, pal..."

"I'm not your fucking pal" Levs loomed over Jensen with about 4 extra inches.

"She's too good for you" Jensen scoffed under his breath, standing his ground.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Levs growled.

"You heard me" Yenzy said, glaring at the brute.

Cappy, Sam and some of the other boys had made their way to the bedroom hallway from downstairs after hearing the yelling.

"She's too good for me, 'cause what?" Levs snorted harshly, "you wanna fuck her, Yenzy?"

"You're drunk" Yenzy glared at him.

"And you wanna fuck my girl" Levs countered.

"No... y/n and I are just friends... became friends the last time you were a massive dick to her in fact" Yenzy said, bluntly.

"What the hell does that mean?" Levs snarled.

"When you went home for the summer and hooked up with an ex..." Yenzy continued, "y/n found out... she saw it all... some video on TikTok or something."

"What?" Levs asked, "how? She never told me that..."

"Because she was humiliated..." Yenzy scoffed, "she had just told you she had feelings for you and you go and fuck some other girl?"

"I never fucked her..." Levs growled, taking Yenzy's shirt in his fists and yanking him close.

"Hey" Cappy yelled, getting in Levs' face, "walk it off, Levs" he said as Sam and Johnny rushed in, each grabbing a shoulder of the Canadian powerhouse.

Levs easily shook off his teammates' holds, glowering down at his goalie just as Yenzy's phone buzzed to life. Levs glared at Jensen, shoving him one last time before letting go of his rumbled t-shirt.

"If this is fucking broken..." Yenzy threatened as he bent down, picking up the phone and answering it when he saw your picture flash across the screen.

"Yenzy, is he still there?" you asked, your voice was steady, but inside you were trembling.

"Yes" Yenzy snarled, glaring at Levs who had backed off but still looked menacing in his current state of beast mode.

"Give him the phone" you instructed.

"You sure?" Yenzy asked.

"Please, Jake..." you blew out a heavy exhale.

Jensen sighed, reluctantly offering Levs the phone as he shook his head, throwing his hands in the air as if he were washing himself clean of the whole damn thing. Yenzy turned, storming out of his bedroom with a curse.

"Bit?" Levs asked, turning his back on his teammates as they also decided to leave the room.

"Stop calling me" you snapped.

"What? Bit, please..." Ari's voice was pained as he paced the small space, "I'm so sorry... I..."

"And leave my roommate and Yenzy alone. I'm not even at my place and I'm not coming back... They don't have anything to do with this..." you continued, ignoring his pleas.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"That's none of your concern anymore" you said.

"Bit... I scored... I scored" he slurred, "just come home, baby... please?" Ari begged, his voice watery now. You could tell he was drunk.

"Oh, that's great" your sarcasm was thick, "have fun with Kimmie..."

"What?" he snorted, "no, bit... it's you... it's only you... I scored for you..." Ari paused his pacing to emphasize every word.

"I don't care" you spat, "none of it matters... it never mattered, Levs..."

"Bit... don't say that..." but Ari's words were choked off with emotion, "don't do this to us, baby..."

"You did this... you did this to us" your tone was surprisingly calm, "you fucking did this to us... I was right there the whole fucking time and it never mattered."

"That's not true, bit" Ari's voice cracked again as he fought back the tears.

"Stop fucking calling me bit" you screamed into the phone, "I'm not your bit... I'm not your fucking anything..."

The phone went dead as Levs sank down on Yenzy's bed with a sob.

You stared at the phone for a long minute, eyes prickling with tears. The sound of someone clearing their throat startled you back to the present.

"Good girl" Ransom goaded, walking back into his bedroom and handing you an imported beer. You'd been getting drunk off this fancy shit ever since you showed up on his doorstep that night.

"Shut up" you whined, "I don't even know why we’re doing this... he's never gonna care..." you wiped a tear with the back of your hand.

"A guy like Levinson? Thinking he missed out on that tight little snatch? He's gonna fucking care" Ransom hissed, tossing you a jersey as he sat opposite you in his expensive oversized Italian leather chair.

"You're gross" you cringed, "why did I get drunk and tell you everything?"

"Cause I'm a good listener" Ransom snorted, not even believing himself.

"Are you just being nice to me so you can get in my pants?" you wondered out loud.

"Think that's been pretty clear from the start, little bitty kitty..." Ransom smirked.

"Ew! Don't call me that" you hiccuped.

"Why?" Ransom's eyes twinkled with delight, "she's obviously little, Ransom leaned forward, taking handful's of your soft curves and yanking you to the edge of his bed. You gasped, almost spilling your beer before squirming out of his hold as he frowned. Ransom leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated eye roll.

Trying to ignore the tension building in the room, you set the beer bottle on his bedside table and grabbed the jersey he had thrown at you.

"I'm not wearing this..." you frowned, holding up Ransom's MU knit. Even their jersey's were menacing.

"Sure you are... to the game with those assholes and Coach Barber" Ransom hummed, before standing up again and grabbing his giant hockey duffle from his bedroom floor, "Levinson will go balistic... and you want him off your back, right?"

You blew out a heavy sigh, but remained silent.

"Y/N... I'm not running a fucking bed-and-breakfast here..." Ransom narrowed his eyes at you, "and I'm not a nice guy... figure your shit out with that goon or wear the jersey..."

"It's not that easy, Ransom... I..." you started, but Ransom cut you off.

"Look... I don't give a shit what you do... but after we win tonight, I'm fucking whatever cunt ends up in my bed - even if that's your pretty little kitty... bet you're so fucking tight... and that it's been way too long... you're just begging to be stretched by a fat cock, huh?" his eyes darkened, staring at you hungrily.

You chirped, opening your mouth to protest, but your throat had gone completely dry.

"Wear it" he pressed, a satisfied smirk curling the corner of his mouth as he turned on the spot, leaving his room without another word.

A bad feeling sat heavy in your gut as you watched him go. Following through with some half-baked plan that you schemed up while drunk with Ransom last night- now suddenly sounded like the worst idea ever.

You stood, holding up Ransom’s jersey before deciding better of it and draping it over the back of his leather chair. You quickly tugged his sweater over your head and proceeded to hang it neatly next to his MU away uniform.

You left Ransom's room, in a pair jeans and a tank top, making your way through the house- on a mission.

It wasn’t long before you found another jersey, hanging from a rack near the kitchen. Taking that one off the hook, you held it up, admiring the quality red white and blue stiching. Your fingers traced the "Tucker" across the back. Lance boasting, just last night, that he was the only one from MU that had ever been invited to play for Team USA at the Olympics. They took gold that year- Lance had the tattoo to prove it.

You shook your head, hanging the jersey back up on its hook. That one wasn't going to cut it either.

Making your way through the kitchen to the other side of the house you stopped right outside his room. You felt like a modern day Goldilocks, not necessarily in looks, but in determination to find a jersey that was just right.

In a moment of panic, you faltered. Could you really be this mean? Did you want to be this mean? Levs had hurt you. Shattered your heart into a million pieces and you were ready for him to feel some of that heartache.

As you stood there, agonizing over everything that had happened in the last two years to lead up to this moment, the bedroom door in front of you swung open.

"Why hello there, dewdrop" his unconventional choice in facial hair made him look at least 5 years older than all the other players on MU as he glanced down at you with, mischief in his eyes,  "what can I do for you?"

His words and tone were deceivingly sweet, but you knew he was anything but kind. And he was exactly what you needed to get Ari off your back.

"You mind if I borrow your away jersey tonight?" you chirped before you lost your nerve.

"Thought you'd be wearing Drysdale's'?" his lip curled into a sickening sneer. You weren't sure what it was exactly, but he made your skin crawl.

"No" you said, crossing your arms over your chest as his gaze bore through your thin cotton tank top until you felt exposed.

"An' what do I get in return?" he smirked, leaning in his doorway, his larger than life frame taking up as much space as possible. Could he possibly be taller than Levs?

"I... um..." nervous laughter bubbled up your throat as your arms fell to your sides.

"Don't worry, sweetheart..." he smirked, smoothing his hand over his facial hair, "sure we can work something out..." he turned, disappearing into his room and returning a few seconds later with a dark MU jersey.

He licked his lips before extending the jersey to you, but instead of letting it go when you took it, he yanked you forward, crashing you into his hard chest with a growl as he wrapped a thick arm around your waist.

"Been dying to get a taste of that sweet nectar, dewdrop..." he whispered hot in your ear, "gotta see if that tight little honeypot lives up to all the hype... I got a feeling both holes are just achin’ to be stuffed."

All you could do was whine as you braced your hands against his broad chest. He let you and the jersey go with a snicker, humming to himself as he left you there alone, his jersey in hand.

You stood, frozen on the spot, until you knew he was gone, leaving for the MU arena to get ready for the game tonight. You blow out an exhale, holding the jersey up to read the big block lettering across the back.

"Hansen" you said aloud to yourself. A shiver snaking up your spine. This was a very bad idea.

A/N: so I’m going to post this and run 🫣 I don’t want to know if you hate it 😓🤐

The hockey divider is made by the lovely and talented @firefly-graphics ❤️

As always, thank you for all the love and support. Please check out my archive blog where I only post new fics @drabblewithfrannybarnesfics ❤️

| run hot |

Summary: Visiting Aunt Nat at the new Avengers Facility was not at all what you expected it to be: stolen kisses, pretty lakes, and your secret being uncovered.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barton!reader

Word count: 6k 

Warnings: Fluff, age gap (same as in part 1), smut-about-to-happen, Steve being vulnerable and kinda sad, Steve also being defensive, super-spy Natasha, that’s all

Note: This is part two to this previous fic

_______________

Keep reading

aXe’s & O(rgasm)’s (2/?)

Pairings: collegehockeyplayer!Curtis ‘The Axe’ Everett x female reader

Warnings: dark themes- Curtis’ storyline is supposed to be chaotic and fast paced- no slow burn here, TRIGGER WARNING- male violence resulting in injury towards female!reader- semi graphic- blood is mentioned but not described in detail, derogatory language towards female!reader, unrequited love interest, enemies to lovers- kinda, bar scene, talk of blood, unrequited sexual advances (male towards female- groping over the clothes), TRIGGER WARNING- dub con-ish - in the form of threatening reader with forced sexual acts, talk of Curtis using physical aggression, Curtis using physical aggression towards a male, angry Curtis, grumpy Curtis, head strong reader, slight size kink- Curtis is 6’4 and strong- no description for reader but she can also be plus size as Curtis is a big strong guy, explicit language, explicit sexual content- smut, non graphic creepy peeping tom, praise kink (must be 18+)

Please let me know if I missed any warnings!

Word Count: 6.4K

A/N: I had a lot of help with this one- from spitballing, hand holding and beta reading I have @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @sconnie-doesnt-know and a dear friend no longer on tumblr to thank! Not sure what I would do without you 3- this one was a true labor of love and I’m not really sure why Curtis’ storyline fights me at every turn! So, thank you, Amber and Tiff for putting up with my crazy writing process! ❤️

All mistakes are my own. Also, if this is trash- I don’t want to know!

The Axe x chickadee: hockey AU

Lucky Charms: hockey AU

The door was heavier than you expected, having to exert more force than anticipated to push into the dank and dimly lit bar.

In all honesty, you'd never been here before, but since your dress- freshly pressed and stain free-showed up on the front desk of the Boys and Girls Club with no sign of Curtis the entire week, here you were... Schydes.

It never dawned on you that Curtis would skip his community service hours for the week. Could he even do that?

But foolishly, you never got Curtis' number and the thought of calling his family's gym made your stomach knot and your skin run cold.

When your anxiety finally got the better of you by midweek, you reluctantly asked your supervisor for Curtis' number. She had been kind enough, not giving you a hard time as she flashed you that all knowing look. But In the end she reminded you gently that she couldn't divulge his personal information without his consent.

So you started with his family's boxing gym after your late shift ended over an hour ago. Curtis' Mom greeted you with a smile when you found her at the front desk. Jane tried to encourage you to come back another day, but you wouldn't listen- and as much as Jane didn't want to admit it- part of her loved you for that.

"Curtis is busy, sweetheart" Jane smiled at you, "he's running errands for his old man."

But something about the way she was avoiding eye contact and busying herself with rearranging membership pamphlets made you think she wasn't telling you the truth.

When you perched yourself on an old dusty loveseat at the front of the gym, smoothing your clean white dress into place and picking up a dog eared magazine, Jane knew that you didn't plan on going anywhere until you saw her son.

Schydes- known to most as "that biker bar across the tracks"- was a place most wouldn't dare to go. Especially not a sweet thing like you. But when Jane let it slip that Curtis was at the bar, you thanked her with a smile you couldn't hide and promptly left.

Getting your first glimpse as you pushed into the bar, you swallowed hard around the lump in your throat, trying to appear confident while your heart hammered wildly in your chest.

The bouncer at the door lazily glanced in your direction, never really carding anyone since the regulars were the biker gang and a handful of old locals that dared frequenting the place.

But when the bouncer noticed you -definitely not a regular in your crisp white dress- his lips curled into a sneer. His gaze racked over you in your sweet little fluttery number- more suited for frolicking in a field of flowers then patron-ing a bar that hadn't been cleaned properly since god-knows-when. This was gonna be fun.

You ignored the bouncer's whistling for the bartender's attention, focusing solely on your mission- to find Curtis. All eyes were on you, the ill-fitting stranger, as you scanned a handful of mean faces glaring back at you. Taking a deep breath, you slowly made your way further into the lion's den- a place you had no business being.

"H-hi... I'm looking for..." you started, but your words trailed off when the bartender took one look at you before turning back to another patron at the bar. The bartender proceeded to ignore you, refusing to give you the time of day but grunting in your direction so his friend could turn and mean mug you.

You weren't wanted here.

"Hi, sugar" a voice crooned in your ear, so close his breath made goose flesh prickle across your skin.

Spinning on your heels you saw the frame of a large man looming over you, his build muscular in his tight short sleeve button up with a vintage looking geometric pattern. He sneered down at you with long stringy hair and glasses too large for his face. His mustache was outdated and porn-industry-esqe and he smelled of something reminiscent of your Grandpa... cloves, maybe?

"You lost, sugar?" the man clicked his tongue against his teeth, letting his gaze drop as he drank in every soft curve of your body with a filthy and audible groan, "you definitely don't belong here..." his voice was deep, tone patronizing and his eyes blazed with something sinister as he took a step towards you. You mirrored his step backwards, chirping when you accidentally bumped into someone behind you.

You gasped when you looked up to see an equally menacing character, a cigarette hanging from his lips. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a deep scar across his face and he was wearing a worn leather jacket. In the dark bar you couldn't quite make out the patch sewn into the chest of his jacket as your heart kicked against your ribcage.

"Who's this?" leather jacket snarled, almost spitting when he talked before looking up at the man standing behind you, "we don't do business at the bar... she can find a dealer on campus... get her the fuck outta here..."

"You hear that, sugar tits" the man with stringy hair laughed, "he doesn't got what you're looking for... but I got all you need right here..." your mouth went dry when he grabbed the bulge in his pants making a vulgar show of his girth.

"I'm not..." you hiccuped, "I'm looking for a friend" you frowned, surprised that you somehow manage to keep from gagging as his vulgarity made your stomach churn.

"A friend?" stringy hair barked a mean laugh as leather jacket glowered down at you. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat while looking around. You noticed that half the bar's customers were still watching you intently.

"Get the fuck outta here" leather jacket grunted, snubbing out his cigarette and turning to walk away.

"M-my friend..." you persisted, "I'm supposed to meet him here... he's ahhhh..." you looked around, desperately searching for Curtis but coming up short.

"I'll be your friend, sugar tits" someone hollered and the bar filled with snickers as a bead of sweat rolled down between your shoulder blades, stick uncomfortably to your dress in the unseasonable heat.

The man with stringy hair took another suffocating step towards you as a wave of nausea lapped at your stomach. Your hand shot up, palm pressed firmly into his chest to keep him at bay when you started feeling a little light headed. Your flight-or-fight response prickling to life.

With your mind racing towards full blown panic, you were pulled back to the present when a sliver of light at the back of bar caught  your eye. You shielded your face, eyes unable to adjust to the bright light before it was gone again, jumping when the back exit slammed shut.

You wheezed out the shaky breath you had been holding, tension bleeding from your shoulders when you that signature knit beanie atop his tall frame rounded the corner. Curtis Everett wearing a flannel and heavy boots, his knuckles were covered in blood.

You watched as Curtis took a handkerchief from the pocket of his black jeans, cleaning his hands up before shoving the scrap back in his pants. He was having a heated conversation with the man next to him who was wearing a leather jacket that matched the scared menace at the bar.

"Curtis" you sang out, relief blooming in your chest as butterflies filling your stomach. Your hand shot up, trying to get Curtis' attention attention, but stringing hair grabbed it, twisting it harshly as you yipped in pain.

"Curtis?" he sneered with a mixture of intrigue and malicious delight. The look he gave you had you suppressing a shudder as he continued squeezing your hand. This man made your skin crawl.

"Let go" your voice suddenly sounded so small.

"Let go" he mocked with a sickening laugh.

"Hey... Axe" stringy hair blew out a sharp whistle, keeping his eyes glued to you as you tried pulling your hand free, his grasp only tightening the longer you struggled. Your breath catching in your throat when you finally heard Curtis speak.

"That's it, Mack" Curtis insisted, flexing and un-flexing his fists, looking down at his hands with a frown, "Coach said I'd be done for tonight..."

Curtis and Mack stopped when they got to the bar top at the opposite end of where you were being held against your will. The bartender poured a shot and slid it across the counter to Curtis, the brute caught it, bringing it to his lips and taking it in one burning gulp before sliding it back and nodding for another.

"Not how it works, kid... coach don't call the shots off the ice... the boss will tell ya when you're done" spat the man Curtis called Mack just as another sharp whistle broke through the stale air.

"Axe..." the stringy haired man called again, "this pretty little thing says she's yours..."

When your captor finally stepped out of the way, relaxing his hold on your hand, Curtis nearing choked on his whiskey. His eyes went wide with emotion for only a fraction of a second before he recovered.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Curtis growled, crossing the room to you and frowning when he noticed stringy hair was still holding your hand. Curtis' eyes flickered around the bar, scanning the big open space as his mind raced.

"So she's not your friend?" stringy hair's lip twitched into a smile that had all the hairs spiking at the back of your neck. His smile quickly quickly dropped to a frown when you finally managed to yank your hand free of his hold.

Curtis felt his chest bloom at your small victory. Fuck... how the hell was he gonna get you out of this?

"No" Curtis glared at you, running his hand through his bread and clearing his throat with a grunt as he surveyed the room again, "she's not my friend..." he shook his head, glancing back at you with a frown.

"Didn't think so... she's not your usual kinda friend..." stringy hair hummed, licking his lips as he not-so-subtly checked you out, "this pretty little dress sure is white, isn't it?" stringy smirked, dancing his long fingers along the thin strap of your dress as you jerked away from his touch with a growl.

"Could be a good time..." stringy shrugged, unabashedly adjusting his growing bulge and licking his lips suggestively. He barked another dark laugh at your clear discomfort.

"Coach" Curtis interjected, his fists balled tightly at his sides as he tried to contain the rage that was building in the pit of his stomach, "forget this desperate cunt... we got get to the next stop..." Curtis' vile words made your breath catch for a moment in your throat.

Curtis' Coach narrowed his eyes at you as he mulled over Curtis' words.

"Desperate cunt?" your voice was shaking when it finally returned.

Just as the words left your mouth a large hand gripped your face, stealing the breath from your lungs as you gasped at the intrusion. Coach's hands pinching harshly at your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

You cried out in shock and pain, hands going instinctively to his thick wrist, but you soon realized struggling only made his grip on you more painful. Your entire body froze in fear, tears burning just behind your eyes.

"Watch that pretty little mouth of yours, sugar tits" stringy snarled, "sluts like you should be seen and not heard."

"Tommy wanted me to throw her out... but I kinda wanna see what's under this pretty little dress of her's..." Coach's grip on your chin tightened as you started struggling again.

"Sh-she's a fucking clingy princess bitch..." Curtis rushed, "gave her a sparing lesson the other day and now I can't get rid of her..." he continued as you shook your face free from stringy hair's grasp, seething.

“So… she wants it… bad?” stringy asked, even in the dim light you could see his pupils dilating as you shuddered with a mixture of disgust and anger.

Your heart was racing, you were seeing red and you swear you felt smoke billowing from your ears.

"Thought about getting my dick wet..." Curtis continued, feigning nonchalance with a tight shrug, "but I heard she gets around... now the cunt won't leave me alone... go home, sweetheart" Curtis snarled the last half at you, his eyes boring into yours with unspoken words.

"Curtis Everett does Jane know you talk to woman that..." but before you could finish white hot pain seared across your face, zipping up your jaw and you heard a ringing in your ear as your world shifted on its axis. Your vision went blurry when your eyes and nose stung with tears.

"Coach" Curtis huffed, taking a step towards you but froze when he recognized that crazy look in his coach's eyes. Coach was practically panting in delight at your pain.

"You keep that whore mouth shut" the man Curtis call coach spat, "you need a dick to wet... I can help you with that... but you don't come around here like some cunt in heat sniffing around where you don't belong... never seen you at MU... must go to that fancy school across town... bitches there thinkin' they should be heard..."

You heard a new round of laughter coming from behind you, even the bartender was leaning over his counter, watching the free show.

"I just..." but you lost your words as humiliated tears broke like a damn spilling down your face. Your hand was on your cheek, the heat radiating as you looked to Curtis, but he wouldn't make eye contact with you.

"You just what, sugar tits?" Coach cooed mockingly, "you can tell me..." he closed the space between you, crowding you in and pressing your back painfully against the bar as you felt the bulge in his pants lay heavy against you.

You could hardly breath, brain going fuzzy as your instinct to fight took over. You brought your knee up swiftly, aiming for his groin but only making slight contact. Coach stringy cursed, stumbling back enough for you to scramble away, tears streaking down your face. But you didn't get far, crying out in pain when a thick hand gripped your arm, yanking you back to him.

"Well that just wasn't very nice" Coach rasped, his eyes burning with anger as his free hand cracked across your face again. This time his ring caught your lip and slip it open.

Your head was spinning as you fought to hold your tears back- getting a sick sense that the bastard would get off on your cries. A metallic taste flooded your senses as you twisted in his painful grasp.

"Coach... stop" Curtis yelled.

"Might have to teach this cunt a lesson..." Coach snarled, ignoring his athlete , "you're real pretty when you cry..." he sneered at you, "bet you'd be even prettier crying on your knees" his large hand moved up your arm, gripping your shoulder and pinching at a pressure point. It dropped you straight to the floor in a heartbeat.

"Shit" you hissed when your bare knees hit the filthy floor, bile twisting in your stomach as your vision started to white out.

"Let's see what else that filthy mouth of yours can do... huh, sugar?" Coach hummed, as you heard the jingling of his belt buckle.

"No" you screeched, panic and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you surged forward.

"What the fuck" Coach yelled in shock and surprise when you lunged at him.

The breath was all but punched from your lungs when Curtis tackled you against the bar top and rushing you out of the establishment as Coach roared, furious and spitting behind him.

You stole a glimpse of the feral man as your big brute pushed you out the front door. You had left a scratch down stringy's face- just under his eye to the corner of his mouth. Your stomach flipped with sickening delight as you heard Coach screaming something about killing you before the door to Schyde's slammed shut. 

"Ouch!" you managed to find your voice once the fresh air hit your lungs, "you're hurting me!"

"Good" Curtis bellowed, speeding up his pace as you almost lost your footing. You stumbled a few times before starting to jog to keep up with him.

Curtis didn't stop until you were a good 6 blocks away- in the direction of the decent part of town. That's when he rounded on you, pulling you into an ally against a whitewashed brick building and looked over his shoulder before speaking again.

"What the fuck were you thinking, y/n?" Curtis spat, nearly shaking with his unspent rage. He snarled when he didn't get an answer, turning opposite you and beginning to pace as energy thrummed through him like a live wire.

There was a long angry silence between you two before he spoke again.

"Are you OK?" he grunted, the anger bleeding slightly from his tone as he walked back towards you, surveying your lip and face before crouching to get a better look at your legs.

You watched him drop to the ground, gingerly inspecting the broken skin at your knees while leaning against the brick wall to catch your breath.

What the hell had Curtis gotten himself involved in?

You leaned over, bracing yourself against the wall before capturing his larger hand in both of yours. He turned to look up at you, his long lashes fluttering at his cheeks as he squinted, ocean blue eyes adjusting to the light from the street lamp.

Your brow furrowed when your thumb ghosted over his knuckles, cracked and dried with blood. Curtis tried to pull his hand away but you held on, narrowing your eyes at him before you spoke.

"What are you doing?" you frowned down at him as he shifted uncomfortably on the ground, his free hand brushing over the back of your calf, making your skin tingle as butterflies bloomed to life in your belly.

"I'm looking at your knees" he shook his hand out of your hold, "you need to clean these... that floor is filthy..."

"Curtis" you ignored his lecture on injury maintenance, "what are you doing there? Does your Mom know?" your last question was whispered- like you were worried, if you spoke any louder, Jane would hear you.

"Does my Ma know what?" he scowled up at you before moving to stand, closing the space between you and bracing his forearm on the brick wall just above your head. You couldn't drag your eyes from his as you felt the heat radiating off his body.

"They looked like..." you started in a hushed tone.

"Don't fucking say it..." he hissed, pushing off the wall and rising to his full height, the frown still etched on his face, "what the fuck were you thinking comin' to Schydes?" his anger was building again, "you trying to get yourself hurt?"

"No" you glared up at him, pushing yourself off the brick wall, but he used one hand to press your shoulder until your back hit the brick with a soft thud.

"You're Mom said..." you started again with a petulant huff.

"My Ma knows better then to send you there...." Curtis cut you off, "no fucking way she sent you there..."

You blew out a stubborn exhale, your heated gaze dropping to the ground as you squirmed against the touch of his hand holding you in place.

"What did she say?" the growl in Curtis' tone almost made your knees go weak.

You looked away, refusing to answer him.

"Y/N..." he warned. 

"She told me to come back tomorrow.... That you were running some errands... I told her I'd wait... and after about an hour she let it slip that you were at Schydes" you yelled, trying to roll out of his hold with no luck.

"She told you to come back and like the little brat you are... you didn't listen?" Curtis hissed through gritted teeth as he dropped his hold from your shoulder, raking his fingers through his beard, "you know she's probably worried sick about you?"

"I was trying to thank you for getting my dress back to me, you dick..." you snarled, moving to push off the brick wall, but his hand met you half way again, pressing you back, halting any forward progress you were making.

"Why would your Mom care about where I go?" you huffed.

"Cause you don't belong there" he snapped, taking his handkerchief from his back pocket, finding a clean corner and gingerly taking your chin in his hand to wipe at your cut lip.

"Neither do you!" you snapped, wincing away from his touch.

"You don't go there" he snarled, shoving his handkerchief in his pants, "you hear me?"

You narrowed your gaze at him, trying like hell not to break first, but your eyes suddenly filled with tears as all the awful things he said rushed back to you. You blinked away, but your glossy eyes twinkled in the street light- giving you away.

Curtis' demeanor softened for a second, reaching to cup your jaw in his palm as the pad of his thumb brushed over your cheek. You jolted away, wincing when you felt pain radiate from where you had been slapped. Your skin feeling hot and swollen.

Curtis' jaw ticked with a hiss as his hand came up slamming the brick -just above your head- with the meat of his closed fist.

"I could kill him" he snarled. But his eyes immediately went soft again when they met yours.

He leaned into you, his body wash or cologne smelling woodsy and making you dizzy with desire. Then Curtis did something completely unexpected- brushing his lips feather light over your swollen cheek. You gasped when his eyes locked with yours, parted mouths inches apart as you shared the same breath, panting at a standstill.

"You're driving me crazy, chickadee" his whispered, the pet name making you swoon.

"I just... can't stop thinking of you and your pretty dresses... wanna be buried so deep inside you" his groaned confession making you gasp as his eyes screwed shut.

And that's when you lost all common sense, wrapping your arms around his neck and crashing your lips into him.

Curtis lifted you clear off the concrete, your back hitting the brick as the air was punched from your lungs with a soft groan. He gripped the back of your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his narrow waist while he swallowed your pretty moans. You felt your cunt clench around nothing, your panties well on their way to ruin.

"You did so good back there, baby" Curtis hummed against your lips, "so fucking good...

And then, as quickly as it had started, Curtis broke the kiss, untangling your legs from around him and dropped you gently, but abruptly, back to the ground.

"We gotta go... I gotta get you home... where's your place?" he asked, "just promise me you won't go back to Schydes" his exhale was heavy, "you got it?"

"What? I'm not going anywhere with you" you huffed, fire burning in your eyes.

Curtis' chest was heaving as his blown eyes glowered down at you. The sexual whiplash making you dizzy.

"God... I swear I don't fucking understand you, Curtis..." you panted, equal parts lust and frustration, "just....fuck... leave me alone" you hissed, shoving your hands into the unmoving wall of muscle that was his chest.

You swear you saw his lip curl slightly at the corner before his jaw clicked. He took a possessive step forward, caging you against the wall and digging his hand into your hip. A growl rumbled low in his chest and the fire in his eyes nearly melted your panties on the spot.

An electrically charged silence hung in the air, his gaze dropping to your lips as he licked his, leaning in to trace his nose just behind your ear as the fingers at your hip danced under your dress and over your panties. You gasped when his calloused fingertips expertly found your clit, rubbing circles into the ruined fabric.

"Curtis" you whimpered, "please..." your entire body was trembling when he took your wrists in his hand, spinning you around and pinning them against the wall above your head. It all happened so fast - the feel of Curtis' beard scratching over the back of your neck when he asked you if this was what you wanted.

You nodded, managing to moan a please when he made you use your words as he slipped your ruined panties down your legs and off your body. He stuffed the ruined scrap of fabric in his back pocket for safe keeping.

Curtis toed your shoes apart with his large dark leather boots as he used his free hand to work his belt and pants open, pulling his hard length out and stroking it a few times before running the weeping thick head up the back of your bare leg.

You shivered when you felt his pre cum hot against your bare skin as he trailed his heavy length up your body.

Curtis dropped your wrists, his large hands moving to your soft curves to angle your ass up the way he liked it. You moaned, pressing a palm against the rough brick wall as you rucked your dress up to your waist for him. Curtis groaned when he got a good view of the curve of your ass.

"So wet for me, chickadee" he whispered, lewdly pulling your cheeks apart and humming with appreciation when the dim streetlight made the slick glitter up the cut of you.

"Please, Curtis" you whined, clawing at the brick as you shivered.

"You want me to make you feel good, pretty girl?" he goaded, running the tip of him through your folds, "I'll take care of you... I'll always take care of you..."

Reaching behind you, you frantically grabbed for him, trying to ground yourself as he caught at your entrance, slowly sinking every hot inch of his length into you with a groan.

"Fuck, chickadee... ya feel like heaven... " he groaned, "but you're gonna bring hellfire down on me" he dropped his forehead to the back of your crown with a shudder when he bottomed out.

You moaned, tucking your arms against the brick and resting your face on your forearm as you watched him. Curtis looked god-like in the moonlight as his eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones- giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch of his thick length.

You shimmied your feet farther apart with a whimper, dropping the angle of your hips and swallowing more of him before he pulled out, dragging every veiny inch slowly through your folds before slamming back into you with a grunt.

Curtis held you by the curve of your hips as he pounded feverishly into you, only picking up his feral pace when he ripped your first trembling orgasm from you.

"Please, Curtis..." you sobbed, your thighs shaking as he wrapped an arm just under your bouncing breasts, pulling your back against his front as he fucked up into your squelching hole.

"Doing so good for me, chickadee" he grunted, your walls fluttering around him as you felt pressure building, embarrassingly quick, deep in your belly.

"Fuck... give me another, pretty girl" he groaned, his palm slamming against the wall to keep you both upright, "touch yourself for me" he instructed.

Your soft fingers immediately found your clit, dipping to gather slick where he was pressed to the hilt, almost coming again when you felt his cock moving inside you.

"You like that?" he grunted with a smug smile, "so fucking good for me, baby" his hips began to falter when your fingers circled your bundle of nerves, his name a whisper on your lips.

"So fucking tight" he groaned, "sing for me, chickadee... such a good fucking girl" stilling his hips on one final deep thrust, his cock twitched, hot and heavy.

Curtis took hold of your jaw, turning you back to him and capturing your lips in a searing kiss that had you tipping over the edge again, pleasure coursing through your veins as he swallowed your pretty song.

You hummed blissfully, floating back down to Earth as an aftershock zipped down your spine and curled your toes. You whimpered when Curtis pulled out, pressing a kiss to your dewy crown as he moved to tuck his cock back into his pants.

"Curtis?" you whispered, turning into him and wrapping your fist around his still throbbing length. He groaned when you pulled him into a slow and searing kiss, taking your time to explore his mouth as your fist pumped slowly over the length of his cock.

"Christ... just like that, baby" Curtis grunted, his chest heaving as his forehead pressed to yours, "fuck..." he groaned bucking his hips into your soft hand just as his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Goddamnit" he snarled, pulling away from you to take out his phone. He frowned down at the screen before shoving the phone back in his pocket, unanswered.

"I gotta get you home" he blew out a frustrated exhale while tucking himself gently back into his pants with a hiss.

"Do you have to go?" you asked, voice soft as you smoothed your dress back into place, feeling too shy to ask him for your panties, "stay with me..." you reached for his chest but he caught your wrist in his hand.

"I can't" his clipped words and signature frown made your heart sink. The soft glimpses of Curtis that managed to sneak past his usual grumpy exterior weren't enough. You wanted more.

"Why did you say that stuff about me?" your snarled, feeling self conscious again and childishly ready to pick a fight.

"What stuff?" he asked, feeding his belt back through the loop in his pants before glaring up at you.

"All that awful stuff... to your... coach?" your voice warbled with emotion.

"Had to get him off your scent" Curtis said matter-of-factly, "my coach isn't a good guy... an' he's involved with a lotta bad shit."

"He's fucking horrible" you confirmed, "but what you said..." you felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again, "it was... awful, Curtis" your words became angry and watery.

"I didn't mean it" he went to reach for your arm, but you swatted him away, taking a step back.

"Yeah, right..." you snapped, the panicked feelings of being used making your stomach knot.

"Chickadee... I swear... I had to get you outta there... I had to protect you..." his tone was soft but insistent.

"And how exactly did your dick protect me?" the strangled rage sob bubbled up your throat as Curtis' eyes went wide, "you used me..."

"What?" his brows furrowed under his beanie, before he yanked the cap from his head, running his hands through his short hair, "god, chickadee" his voice broke, "you don't really think that... do you?"

"No" you snapped, "I... I don't know... why did we even do that?” your voice cracked, "I'm so fucking stupid" you snarled to yourself, "you don't even like me" you sniffled, your shoulders rolling in as you made yourself smaller.

"It's not like that, y/n... not with you..." he ran a hand over his beard as your vision went blurry, blinking back tears that were threatening to spill.

"Bullshit" you snapped, "why isn't it like that with me? I've seen the types of girls that come asking for you at the Boys and Girls Club... Why'm I not good enough?" you spat, feeling the bitter taste of jealousy rise up your throat.

"I never said that..." he corrected you, "I... we can't..." he blew out a heavy exhale, frowning at you.

"Well we just did” you snarled, "so what now?"

"Chickadee... this would never work" he tried to reason with you.

"You shoulda thought about that before you put my panties in your back pocket" you snapped, wiping an angry tear from your cheek as you turned, stomping past him and attempting to leave.

When you rounded the corner of the alley back onto the sidewalk you ran straight into a slight man with beady eyes in a leather jacket- the same jackets from the bar and you swear you recognized those beady eyes sneering at you from a corner booth back at Schydes.

You chirped in surprise, taking a step backwards and running into Curtis who had been hot on your heels.

"Little Bobby?... what the fuck are you doing here?" Curtis snarled, gripping your arm as he pulled you back into his chest.

"Stepping into a lover's quarrel apparently" he smirked from you to Curtis, "Mack needs you" Bobby hissed.

"Yeah, I got it... I just gotta take her home" Curtis sniffed, trying to seem indifferent.

"Looks like you were doing a little more than takin' her home" the smirk Bobby gave you made your stomach retch.

"You fucking perv" Curtis growled, sweeping you behind him as he took an intimidating step towards the man.

"Watch yourself, Axe" the smaller man snarled, lifting his jacket to reveal the shiny butt of a handgun tucked in his waistband.

You whined against Curtis' side as he held his hands up in a non threatening manner, letting Bobby know he understood.

"Just lemme take her home, Bobby" Curtis tried to reason with the man, "an' I'll be right back."

"Why don't you let me take her home" Bobby sneered suggestively.

"You're not gonna fucking touch her..." Curtis roared as you clung to his flannel.

"What do ya think the boss will have to say about this?" Bobby's menacing gaze flickered to you, trembling at Curtis' side, "Axe's pretty little bitch from that good school, right? What's that I heard him call you, when you were singing so pretty? Chickadee?

You squeaked, face flushing with embarrassment as you buried your face further into Curtis' side, refusing to acknowledge the man as Curtis' rage burned white hot.

"Fuck off, Bobby..." Curtis snarled, "Ain't nobody there gonna give a shit... I get my work done..."

"Maybe not" Bobby shrugged indifferently, "but I think Sky's gonna care..."

You felt Curtis' entire body tense for only a second before a snarl ripped though his chest and he lunged at the man, knocking him out in one punch. The man tumbled to the ground, out cold.

After Curtis dragged Little Bobby’s unconscious body into the alley you both hurried back to your place, taking a few random turns until Curtis was satisfied that you weren't being followed by anyone else.

"Am I in danger?" you finally had the nerve to ask once your apartment door was locked and double bolted.

"Nah" Curtis brushed it off until his gaze met yours and he blew out a deep sigh, "I don't think so... Couch definitely doesn't like you" he frowned.

"Feeling's mutual" you tutted and Curtis couldn't fight the small smile that tugged at his lips.

"If you could lay low for a few days... that'd be good..." he sighed, running his hand over his beard.

Curtis made his way to the tiny kitchen of your shoebox one bedroom apartment, opening your freezer and finding a freezer burned bag of vegetables in the back. He grabbed the hand towel hanging from your oven and wrapped it around the block of frozen vegetables.

"How's your face?" he asked, concern laced in his frown as he assessed your injury.

You chirped when he place the ice gently against the offending cheek. Hissing when the ice melted the heat still radiating from your skin.

"Lay low?" you asked, "what the hell does that even mean? And what did you get yourself into?" you huffed, "what college hockey player also moonlights as a mobster? I feel like I'm in a bad gangster movie" you babbled as Curtis' lip curled up into a smirk.

"What?" you huffed, not finding any of this amusing.

"My Ma warned me about you..." his laugh was affectionate as he shook his head, smiling at you.

"Warned you about me?" you squeaked, "about me?" your laugh was dry, "she shoulda warned me about you..." you scowled up at him, gasping when he closed the space between you and took your lips by surprise. The makeshift ice pack dropping to the floor with a thunk.

Curtis' expert lips didn't break the kiss as his large calloused hands roamed down your sides, kneading every curve he came across as he walked you backwards, further into your apartment. But just as he was pressing you back into the dimly lit hallway that lead to your bedroom his phone buzzed to life from his pocket.

He didn't break the kiss until he had fished the phone from his pants, looking at the screen briefly before rolling his eyes and answering the call.

"Yeah?" he grunted into the phone, turning and walking back down the hallway as he left you there in the dark.

You hesitated -for a moment- to follow him, unable to make out the person's voice on the other end of the call.

"Who called you?" Curtis insisted. There was a pause as he listened intently.

"No... it was Little Bobby" he snarled the man's name, blowing out a frustrated sigh, "does it matter?" Curtis asked harshly, turning back around and finding you standing behind him in your living room. He frowned as he started pacing the small space.

"No... Sky wasn't there" Curtis swore.

Who was this Sky?

"It doesn't matter..." he insisted with another sigh, "no, it doesn't... I knocked him out, he probably won't even remember it..."

Curtis paused to listen again.

"Nah... that's all you need to know... Mack isn't going to care" he tried to reason, "no" he huffed, "cause... we weren't exactly dancing, Ma..."Curtis blurted.

"Oh, my god... Curtis!" you yipped, burying your face in your hands as you sank to your couch, completely mortified.

The hockey dividers were made by the lovely and talented @firefly-graphics ❤️

As always, thank you for all the love and support. Please check out my archive blog where I only post new fics @drabblewithfrannybarnesfics ❤️

Sebastian Stan at the Vanity Fair

15 years of Sebastian Stan (2006-2020)

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - it's finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist.

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna to be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lurge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

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