#I’m to blame moodboard

[honeyedlashton]

“I don’t want to unsee. . .”

10 days of Superbloom (Day 8 of 10)

Ashton Irwin via Superbloom Album Trailer / Unknown Struck Match Photography / Amberlights Stock Photo via Etsy (not sponsored lmao) / Unknown Star Art / Unknown Graffiti Word Art / Unknown Bird Photography / Untitled Fluid Acrylic Art by Maria Brooks / Unknown Dilated Pupil Photography

[flowersforfrancis]

[nnato]

heavy on the heart

Arthur hates it when Dennis leaves. He’s trying to not let it show when he’s standing at the pier, saying goodbye to his husband. What if he doesn’t come back? If something happens to him at sea? Arthur doesn’t want to think about it but it’s easier said than done as Dennis kisses him one last time before stepping onto the ship.

[cursed-herbalist]

𝓢𝓲𝓵𝓪𝓼 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓭

Ravenclaw • British • Half-Blood • Virgo • ISFJ • Emotional Support Werewolf with a comeback for every situation • Transfiguration & Charms Ace • Tinkerer • Aspiring Artificer (Magical Engineer) • born in 2005

—

➔ It was a stormy night when Silas heard a loud thud echoing through the house. Worried, he asked his parents what it was yet both, his father and mother, were reluctant to tell him. All they did was warn him not to go into his little sister's room. Ignoring all their warnings, he opened the old wood door on the second floor to find that his baby sister was a fully transformed werewolf, itching to escape. With a loud howl, she pounced on him the second the door flew open. Her teeth sunk into his skin. Luckily, their parents managed to ward her off yet the damage had been done.

Tagging @potionboy3

[twinstateline]

tag drop part one .

[reb3lwife]

take two with the right symbols sldfkjsdlkfjsdf tag drop part one .

[lupaeusmoved]

tag drop part one .

[lupaeusarc]

tag drop / test part one

[ratatoastwrites]

Playing house

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

[this was specifically written with s2 bratty(suffering from withdrawal)!Spencer in mind 🧚‍♀️]

Synopsis: “has a PhD in engineering and thinks that Ikea manuals are for stupid people” boyfriend vs “isn’t really a good handyman but is determined to follow the rules” s/o get into a bit of an argument 🫢

a/n: it’s me woo! did y’all miss me? 🌝 ofc u did!! 🥰 jkjk but umm i was inspired to write this bcuz i actually got a new chair from ikea a few days ago and i almost ripped out all my hair by the time i managed to put it together ✨ i was listening to the Like a Prayer EP from deadpool & wolverine for the whole two (2) hours it took me to put it together as well lmao 🪑 also, the pic on the left of the moodboard is my own ikea manual on the exact page i messed up!! fun 🧚‍♀️ also, did u guys like that i included a synopsis this time? i hope u did ;)

cw: light angst, arguing about something that shouldn’t really be a cause of an argument, reader has one (1) violent thought but doesn’t actually mean it and also doesn’t act on it ofc, allusion to Spencer’s addiction/withdrawal, some kinda unhealthy thoughts, Spencer is a bit 🤏 of an asshole in the beginning, mostly fluffy ending, also kinda rushed ending which is my bad :( sorry

“This is stupid. And you’re doing it wrong.”

You scoffed in exasperation at your boyfriend’s complaints, but otherwise kept your focus on the task at hand.

You’ve been trying to assemble your new desk chair for the past half hour, while Spencer loomed over your hunched figure, like an unhelpful little devil on your shoulder.

“Well, why don’t you do it then?”

You mumbled under your breath, not necessarily wanting him to hear. He did anyway.

“Well, I would. If you weren’t so insistent on using the manual.”

You could quite literally hear the eye roll in his tone, and while you usually didn’t mind his bratty attitude, right now it wasn’t helping your already frustrated mood.

“Oh, right. Silly me, using the manual that tells me how to assemble this piece of- furniture.”

You had to try your hardest not to start cursing, not wanting to let this swedish nightmare of a chair get the better of you. Spencer sighed behind you, and you were secretly hoping that it was a sigh of resignation.

“I have a PhD in engineering, do you really think that I don’t know how to assemble a chair from Ikea?”

Your hopes were proven to be futile, just like every other time you found yourself not seeing eye to eye with your boyfriend. You took a deep breath, not wanting to turn this petty argument into an actual fight.

“I don’t know, Spencer. And I’m not interested in finding out. I just don’t understand what you’re trying to prove by refusing the very idea of using the manual.”

Your tone became a little sharper by the end, although it wasn’t actually aimed at him. As you read over the manual again, you realised that you messed up the last step, cursing quietly under your breath as you had to undo the last eight screws in the armrests.

“Good thing you were using the manual.”

You were seriously contemplating throwing the screwdriver at your boyfriend’s smartass head after his smug comment. However, you just slowly put it down instead, before standing up from your place on the carpet, ignoring the crackling in your knees as you turned around to face him.

“Spencer, I love you more than words could describe, but you’re seriously getting on my last nerve right now. I’m going to make myself a cup of tea, do not follow me please.”

You told him with eerie calmness, before walking out of the living room and towards the kitchen.

You tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at your stomach at how annoyed you’d gotten over something so trivial. You knew that he was going through a rough patch in his life, and you couldn’t blame him for being more annoying than usual. But you couldn’t always have the patience of a saint, and you were already quite worked up about that stupid chair.

‘I just need a few moments of peace. Then I’ll go back and pretend like everything is okay. As per usual.’

You tried telling yourself, blocking out the voices saying how unhealthy that sounded.

You went through the steps of making your tea, doing your best to silence the myriad of emotions swirling in your chest. By the time you finished your hot beverage and put your cup in the sink, all your previous frustrations were gone, replaced by only tiredness. The weight of the day weighed on your shoulders as you dragged yourself back to the living room, although the slight aching in your muscles quickly faded to the back of your mind when you took in the sight waiting for you in there.

“Wh- Spence?”

You were dumbfounded as you looked at your boyfriend, who was standing next to your -now assembled!- chair with a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, put it together for you. All according to the manual, of course.”

His tone was almost shy, and he gave you the sweetest puppy dog eyes imaginable, which never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“But I thought the manual was stupid.”

You stepped closer to him, still feeling a little confused, but your gaze softened in fondness as you looked at him. He shuffled on his feet a little, glancing between you and the chair awkwardly.

“It is. But it doesn’t matter. According to the studies, most healthy relationships are based on compromises. I guess I just realised that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately.”

You frowned at his words, stepping even closer to him, until you were almost toe to toe. You didn’t like it when he talked about himself like that, and he quickly understood your expression.

“You know it’s true. You’ve been nothing but patient and accepting since I… And I can’t even swallow my pride for an hour to help you put together a piece of furniture.”

He continued before you could argue, and your heart broke as he trailed off mid-sentence. You knew that it was hard for him to acknowledge what he was going through, and you really wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t do anything wrong. But you knew that those empty words of comfort wouldn’t do your relationship any good.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. But Spence, I don’t want you to think that me being there for you is a chore, or a sacrifice. I’m being patient and accepting, because I love you.“

You told him, reaching your hands out to hold his, interlocking your fingers as you smiled at him softly.

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. And you being a little annoying about a stupid chair doesn’t make you a bad boyfriend. Not to mention that you ended up putting it together for me.”

You nodded your head towards the aforementioned furniture next to you, squeezing his hand a bit tighter as you smiled at him fondly.

“I don’t deserve you.”

He said softly, tilting his forehead against yours.

“Negative. You deserve only good things in your life.”

You told him, before capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.

The two of you didn’t always agree, and you could both be incredibly stubborn. But at the end of the day there was nothing you wouldn’t do for your beautiful, intelligent, sweetheart of a boyfriend, no matter how much he tested your patience. And you knew that he felt the exact same way about you.

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

Bonus badly edited pic of Spencer in my new chair ✨

[tightjeansjavi]

And They Were Roommates | drabble

“hazy shades of you” aka: weed…idk

A/N: when I tell you that these three have been living in my head rent fucking free…💀 there are so many fun and smutty scenarios that I can do for them and it’s so much fun! Big kisses for @syd-djarin for another BEAUTIFUL moodboard, and @sinsofsummers for betaing 💗

word count: 1.1k

Summary: Joel and Logan take care of you on the couch after they ✨beat✨ your pussy 🫶🏻

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

Warnings: smut, pussy pronouns, m/m, mmf, language, throuple, dubious consent given the use of marijuana, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

The wet sound of lips meeting in a chaste kiss echo behind you. The couch pillows have found their way to the floor in a smashed down heap, and you’re unsure where your discarded panties ended up…but your hunch leads you to believe that Logan secretly stashed them away in the back pocket of his jeans (for safekeeping, obviously).

Your thighs feel sticky, glued together with perspiration, and the remnants of Joel and Logan painting your skin in ropes of their seed, marking you, as always.

“Think she’s up for round five?” Logan murmurs against Joel’s lips, nipping playfully at the lower one, catching the soft skin and tugging—gently, earning an appreciative growl from the other man.

“Mmm…ain’t too sure about that, Howlett. Think she’s pretty fuckin’ beat.” He cards his fingers through Logan’s hair, twisting them through the endearing cowlicks that resemble cat ears, and tugs him in further—always yearning for more.

“You guys beat my pussy like it was your personal fucking mission. I can still feel her pulsing, and I’m not even sure if I have a clit attached to my body anymore.” You hoarsely joke, leaning forward from your spot between the two men on the couch to grab your jar of weed and rolling papers.

“Don’t be so dramatic, sweetheart.” Logan says teasingly, and curves his hand around Joel’s hip, pulling him into his lap with ease. “S’fine by us if you need a break. I think we can keep ourselves occupied.”

“Lemme roll this real quick, and then by the time I’m done, I’ll be ready for another poundin.’” You glance over your shoulder briefly at your men, a smile playing on your lips at the sight of them indulging in pleasure freely; it warms your heart and sends a spark shooting from the top of your spine, settling deep between your thighs.

“Mmm…” The Wolverine hums in appreciation, lulling his head to the side to give Joel easier access to his neck, and so that he could watch you with a lazy grin plastered on his flushed face. “Take your time, babygirl. Miller here is just gonna keep acting like a cock thirsty slut, anyway. And who could blame—”

“Yeah? That’s what I am?” Joel said with a snort under his breath, nudging Logan’s pulse point with the tip of his prominent nose before he pulled back slowly so he could look at his face.

“That’s right, bub.” He chuckles and diverts his gaze back to his lover straddling his hips, leaking cocks pressed together in this position, “ya heard me the first time, didn’t ya?” His brows rose suggestively, and his eyes drifted southwards.

“As if you don’t want me to shove my cock down that pretty throat of yours again, baby.” Joel rasped, closing the small gap between him and Logan with a searing kiss and trailed his fingers from his hair down to the bristle on his jaw, tilting his head upwards with the back of his knuckles. He rolled his hips forwards, easing the building tension between them.

“Fuck.” Logan sighs into the kiss, tightening his grip around Joel’s hip, nails bruising the skin there. “Thas’ it. Keep doing that.”

“Like this?” Joel rolls his hips again, experimenting with this new position freely, and he feels his ego swell from Logan’s unconditional praise falling from his lips between kisses.

“Yeah, bub. That’s perfect. Fucking—perfect. Gonna make me cum…again.” He growls.

“Goddamn. Y’all are fuckin’ nasty.” You chide playfully, squeezing your thighs together to try and relieve the building tension—those motherfuckers.

Your fingers were trembling by the time you finished rolling your joint, and just as you were reaching for the lighter along the coffee table, two pairs of hands were caressing you and easing your back against the couch.

“Boys, please.” You pleaded, “let me relax for five minutes, okay?”

Your lips pucker around the joint tucked there safely, but it dips down when you feel Joel’s lips brush against your neck on one side, and Logan’s following suit on the other.

“Babygirl, you are relaxing, see?” Logan says with a warm chuckle. “Let us take care of ya for a little, okay? We’ll be nice and gentle with her.” His eyes flick down to your pussy fondly, his fingers flexing in low-energy restraint.

Simultaneously, Joel’s lips trail down the expanse of your throat, kissing along your collarbone until you feel the hot press of his tongue lathing against your bare nipple, and one hand drifting down between your thighs, gently prying them apart at his leisure. His hand wraps around the meat of your thigh, gently draping it across his lap. “Baby, Logan and I jus’ can’t help it. We always wanna play with you.”

“Fuck me.” You let out a sigh through your nose, feeling your back melt further into the couch when Logan drapes your other thigh across his lap, exposing you completely to their wandering hands. “Just not too much, okay? She really did take a serious beating by you both.”

“Oh, honey…we know.” Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss to the side of your head when you naturally lean into him. “Just some gentle pets is what we’re gonna give her. Ain’t that right, bub?”

“Mhm. Nothing but the best for our girl and her pretty, bruised pussy. We’re gonna take extra good care of her.”

“God, I don’t know what I did to deserve you both, but I love you, seriously. Mind grabbing the light for me while you’re at it?” You gestured to the forgotten lighter on the table, and Logan was already reaching for it with his free hand. He pressed down on the spark wheel to ignite the flame, bringing it to the unlit end of your joint with ease.

The gesture was inherently intimate;your eyes met and you shifted closer towards him just as Joel’s fingers brush through the tuft of curls, playing with them endearingly.

You took a sharp inhale of smoke, holding it in your mouth as Logan leaned in and kissed you deeply, inhaling the smoke at the same time while his fingers dip down, spreading your inner lips open slowly.

“She’s so pretty, ain’t she?” Joel murmurs in awe when his eyes focus intently at the way that your pussy pulsed from even the lightest touches. His fingers had barely touched your sensitive clit, and you were already lurching forward, whimpering pathetically into Logan’s lips.

“The prettiest.” Logan hummed in agreement.

And for the next hour, and well after the joint that was pursed prettily between your lips had been enjoyed between the three of you, your boyfriends continued to gently tend to you, and your pussy. Coaxing orgasm after orgasm washing over you with just their fingers alone, and creating an even bigger mess between your thighs. And well, good dogs always lick their bowl clean, ain’t that right, bub?

banners by the lovely @saradika-graphics

follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications

[mossy-paws]

Sword PHIGHTING! period cramps moodboard

Gods mightiest warrior…….

Og image:

ANYWAYS EXTRA BITS!!!! So. Yeah. I wasted exactly 27 hours and 29 minutes of my life making this over a period of like. ~a week and a half LMAO????? I THINK IT WAS LONGER?? Yeah all of these are completely redrawn from the Og “panels”, replicating the dungeon meshi style is. MISERABLE I don’t know why I did this to myself holy fucking shit, all of you blame @squiffer-salad for this monstrosity she’s the reason why this exists in the first place /silly

anyways, I highly recommend looking at the panels individually because I put a lot of fun extra bits in them and just. A LOT of effort in general, any likes, reblog’s, or comments are insanely appreciated since this did take such a long time :’DDD, everything in these minus the backgrounds are completely redrawn/shaded/and colored by hand, this includes mid/screen tones as I used specific layers for those! anyways thank you for coming to my period cramp projection ted-talk I’m going back into my Everglade hole.

[navybrat817]

No Other Love

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to surprise you with a romantic evening.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, slight feels (it’s me, okay), Bucky Barnes being romantic (he’s a warning, okay?).

A/N: I received some sad news and almost didn't post, but I wanted to share something that brought happy tears to my eyes with Stud. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky sent you to your room and wouldn’t tell you why. He had a surprise planned for you and refused to give you any sort of a hint. He only said he debated kicking you out for a few hours, but didn’t want to risk you getting back too early or late. Oh, and he asked you to put on a dress. Your boyfriend had a romantic plan in mind and you wouldn't deny his request.

You did, however, demand snacks while you waited.

“You want me to feed you just because I’m asking you not to go into the kitchen or dining area for a bit?” he smiled when you pointed to the pantry.

“If I can’t leave my room, I will need sustenance,” you replied.

Just like you didn’t argue about his surprise plans, he didn’t argue when he handed over the food.

“What is he doing out there?” you mumbled to yourself, crossing your arms. You debated pressing your ear against the door to listen, but your stealthy boyfriend managed to keep quiet. “Can I come out now?!” you called out.

“No! Don’t distract me!” he yelled back.

You huffed and flopped back against the pillow. It wasn’t that you didn’t like surprises. You just preferred knowing things. Blame it on your curious nature. It was one of the reasons you enjoyed studying. Expanding your mind and absorbing knowledge centered you. With surprises, however, the only option you had was to wait.

But it’s worth it because it’s Stud.

“‘Don’t distract me.’ Like you haven’t distracted me when I have things to do,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed a book from your nightstand. “Menace of a boyfriend.”

“You talking about me?” he shouted as you mindlessly flipped through the pages.

How the hell…?

“No! Just reading! Get back to work or whatever it is that you’re doing!”

“You trust me, right?” He asked.

Even though he couldn't see your face, you smiled. “Completely,” you answered.

If there was anyone in the world you trusted with your entire being, it was Bucky.

“Then trust that this will be worth it.”

“You got it, Stud!” you said, assuming he went back to work since he chuckled and didn't say anything else.

You passed the time with your book before you got up to look in the mirror. Since Bucky didn’t say what kind of dress to wear, you picked something simple and blue. You loved the color before, but he made you appreciate it more. You felt peace when you looked into his eyes.

Trust, loyalty, love.

You just finished spritzing a bit of perfume on your neck when Bucky knocked on the door. Instead of opening it as you expected, he slid a piece of paper under it instead. As you moved closer, you realized it was shaped like a puzzle piece. Smiling, you picked it up to read the message he wrote.

In my wildest dreams, I never thought someone as amazing as you would come into my life. I hope I’m your dream come true and better than any book boyfriend you've read about.

Oh, Bucky.

With misty eyes, you read the message again and traced the letters with your finger. Bucky was the best boyfriend in the universe and you didn’t think that just because he was yours. Any girl would be lucky to have a man like him by his side. Someone loving and steadfast and true.

“Count to ten and then come out,” Bucky said through the door as you composed yourself.

After silently counting to ten as he instructed, you opened the door with a gasp. Bucky took your apartment, one you saw daily, and transformed it. Fairy lights, adjustable lamps, and candles replaced the normally brightly lit place. You could see blankets and pillows ready in the living room for cuddling and hopefully more. And the scent of freshly baked pizza filled the air.

Best meal ever.

“Bucky?” you asked when you didn’t see him. Was he hiding? You didn’t even see Alpine or Soot. Maybe he put them in his room. You almost called for Bucky again before you spotted another piece of paper on the floor a few feet in front of your door and went to pick it up.

Before I met you, I never knew what it was like to smile for no reason. And I found the reason for my smile the day I found you. Like when I think of that cute look you get on your face when you put a puzzle together.

You held the sheet close to your chest as you found another in the direction of the kitchen, smiling as you went to retrieve it. This was like a treasure hunt, a puzzle you couldn’t wait to complete. Bucky was the “X” that marked the spot.

If I write your name in the sand, it will wash away. If I write it in the clouds, it will blow away. So I wrote it in my heart where it will always stay in my care. Just like I promised your parents.

I’m going to be a blubbering mess if he keeps this up.

“Wise men say.”

You walked into the kitchen as “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” filled the room, where Bucky was waiting for you. The song you danced to before you became a couple, one that would forever hold a special place in your heart. And it was as if all the oxygen was sucked from the room as you took in the sight of your boyfriend. Instead of sweatpants or jeans, he wore slacks and a button up shirt. The blue matched your dress. That’s how in sync the two of you were.

He even styled his hair for me.

"Hey, Smartie," he said, his voice gentle as he smiled and nodded to the ground in front of him where another piece of paper lay waiting. “You look beautiful.”

"Thank you, Stud," you smiled, sniffling as you bent down to pick it up. "These messages are beautiful, but are you trying to make me cry? Because if so, well done and it's a good thing I didn't overdo it on the makeup. I'd be a mess."

He laughed, the sound making butterflies flutter in your stomach. "Only if they're tears of joy or pleasure. And you don't need to wear any makeup because you're beautiful," he replied, heat rushing through your body before you read the message.

Love is two people dancing in the kitchen. May I have this dance?

You lifted your gaze to find Bucky holding out his hand. “I’d love to,” you said, setting the pieces of paper on the counter before you joined him. There was no way you would refuse, easily taking his hand for him to pull you into his arms. It was almost overwhelming the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world who mattered. If you ever needed to know what love looked like, you only had to gaze into Bucky's eyes.

Am I worthy of such devotion?

"You really are good on your feet,” you said as he began to lead you in a dance.

"I'm even better off my feet," he winked, making you laugh before he spun you away from him, only to pull you back. "That was cheesier than the pizza waiting for us, wasn't it?"

“So cheesy. You had to ruin the moment,” you teased, giving him a coy smile. “So, what’s the special occasion for all this?”

You had a feeling why and wanted your instinct to be correct, but didn’t want to get your hopes up. Family wise, they were ready for you to take the next step. Your parents adored the hell out of Bucky. Becca welcomed you like a sister. Your friends, of course, were also supportive and ready for you to tie the knot.

“Do I need a reason to spoil my girl with an extra romantic pizza and movie night? I’m even letting you pick the movie, even though you chose last time.”

“How generous of you. And no, you don’t need a reason to spoil me,” you said. Even if he didn’t have something specific planned, he made you feel special just by calling you his girl. You knew, no matter how many years passed, the two of you would continue to find ways to make each other feel loved and cared for.

“Do you remember the day we met?” he asked, smiling as if the memory was playing in his mind. “I warned you that Alpine chased off the last person who came over to look at the place. I was worried for a second she'd try the same thing with you.”

“You did warn me,” you giggled. “And I just crouched down and stuck my hand out toward her.”

“She loved you from the start,” he said, pulling you closer as he brushed his mouth against your ear, the gentle tickle of his scruff making your eyes slip shut. “I think I loved you, too.”

Bucky and his perfect voice and perfect words and I'm about to cry all over again.

“You think you loved me from the moment you met me?” You asked, sniffling as he pulled back and nodded. “Because I think I loved you, too. Which sounds crazy, but we're both a little crazy in the best ways.”

We're a couple of dorks who found a way to fit together.

“We are a little crazy. And who would Stud be without his Smartie?" He asked, handing you a sheet that he seemed to pull out of thin air. “One more piece.”

My love for you is like a circle: It has no beginning and no end. And it would be an honor for you to wear my family ring.

Bucky dropped down to one knee and grasped your left hand as he took a box from his pocket. You couldn’t slow the beating of your heart as he looked up at you with loving eyes. “When I tried to think of the perfect proposal, I wanted it to be the kind you deserved. And I couldn’t get our apartment out of my head. This is where we met. The place where you became my roommate. And we made it a home together. You even fell in love with me. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m thankful every single day that you allowed me to love you, too.”

Your breath hitched when he opened the box. Even expecting it, your soul was ready to leave your body. “Bucky,” you whispered, a sob bursting from your throat when he tenderly smiled.

“My mom told me to give this to the person who stole my heart. You gave me the world when you gave me yours. And I promised your dad I'd always take care of you and love you the way you deserve. We’re made for each other and I don’t want to live a single day without you by my side.”

You could only cry when he removed the ring from the box. For him to think you were worthy of wearing something so significant and special to his family was a precious gift. One you would never let him question or regret. “I don’t want to either.”

“You're my missing piece. My forever. My Smartie,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you cried, your hand shaking a little as he slipped the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly, like it was made for you. Like you and Bucky were made for each other.

My missing piece. My forever. My Stud.

Bucky stood and leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips. You eliminated any distance between you by pressing your mouth to his. You clung to him, your mouth soft against his as he brought a thumb up to wipe away your tears. You drew back, your heart fluttering in your chest as he brought his lips to your damp cheek.

“I love you so much,” he breathed against your skin.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you whispered, bringing your mouth back to his. “I love you, too.”

You never could’ve imagined someone like Bucky in your wildest dreams. He was the reason you smiled, sometimes for no reason at all. You’d write his name on your heart and forever keep it there. You would dance with him in the kitchen or wherever he asked you to. Your love for him, like his love for you, was an unbreakable circle.

And you couldn’t wait to be his wife.

Yay! He proposed! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - part 1

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

summary: reader has a boyfriend who is not so fond of spencer, or the fact that reader and spencer are best friends. this causes, yet another, argument between reader and her boyfriend. 

a/n: HEY GANGGGGGG!!!!!! so…… i have no idea when i posted last but frankly, idgaf!! so here’s some more food for you!!! this might be my fav series i’ll ever post tbh😉😉😉 also this isn’t in any specific season, i just have alex(i can’t remember her last name as im writing this) from s8 in here just because

————————————————————————

spencer and i held eye contact across the kitchen at rossi’s house one evening. 

he was involved in a conversation with morgan and alex, while i was under the arm of my boyfriend, james, as he talked to hotch about something. 

i wasn’t listening, just focusing on not blinking. spencer smiled slightly, struggling to keep himself from blinking. 

he pulled a face, making me smile and laugh quietly. 

“that’s cheating.” i mouthed. 

“no it’s not.” spencer mouthed back, smiling softly. 

i stuck my tongue out at him and crossed my eyes so that my vision became obscured. looking back with focused eyes made me realize he was blinking. 

“i win!” i cheer audibly, staying quiet enough to not interrupt the flow of words coming from james’ mouth. he did shoot me a confused look.

spencer rolled his eyes and sipped from the glass of red wine he had in his hand. he was sucked back into the conversation he was initially involved in, head turning towards alex as she started talking. 

i sighed and looked up at james, forcing a smile onto my lips as he kept on talking to hotch without giving me a glance. 

i shifted my gaze to hotch, finding him staring at me. his eyes had that worried look in them i saw sometimes and i smiled to assure i was okay. he looked away and i released a sigh i didn’t know i was holding in. 

“you ready to get going?” james’ voice got me looking back up at him. i took a few seconds to process his question before nodding. 

“i’m gonna go say bye and i’ll meet you at the front door, okay?” i took my arm out from where it was around his while he nodded. i turned on my heel and headed over to where jj, penelope, and rossi were standing. i said goodbye to them, which they were sad to hear, before going to see alex, morgan and spencer. 

“i wish you didn’t have to go.” spencer whispered while he gave me a hug. 

“i know, me too.” i whispered back, giving him a quick gentle squeeze before releasing him. 

“i’ll see you tomorrow, spence.” i waved to him and then everyone else before finding james by the front door. 

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

when james and i got to our apartment i immediately went to our room to get changed. 

“did you have fun?” i asked from the closet.

james stood in the doorway to our room, nodding. “yeah. that guys house was cool.” 

“rossi is very rich, and he will flaunt it.” i laughed. james hummed with a sound that told me he was unamused. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing it’s just… spencer was staring a lot.” he told me. “it’s like he’s got to hots for you or something.” 

i eyed him in my periphery. “he doesn’t.” i assured. my hands moved over the compartments in the closet while i tired to find what i wanted to wear after my shower.

“mhm, yeah okay. because friends gawk like that.” james sounded annoyed. “seriously, like it was kind of hard to enjoy everything when he was staring like that.”

“hey, don’t put your view of the entire evening on spencer.” i told him while exiting the walk-in closet. 

james rolled his eyes. “of course you’re defending him.” 

“i’m not defending him, james!”

“yes you are! you always do!”

“because he’s my best friend! you’d defend noah if i ever blamed him for something.”

james looked away, frustrated and biting back some remarks. “that’s different.” he muttered. 

i crossed my arms over my chest. “how? how is it different?” i asked. “is it because spencer and i aren’t the same gender? is that why?” 

james shook his head. “no, it’s not.” 

“oh, i think it is.” i scoffed, looking away at the floor. i kicked my toes into the carpet. 

the room got silent, and heavy with angst. 

“i’m sorry.” i apologized. “i didn’t mean to… make this into an argument, i just wish you’d accept that spence is my friend.” 

james sighed and walked forward, gently putting his arms around me when i was in reach. he put his chin on my shoulder and i did the same. “i’m sorry too. and i’m working on it.” 

i nodded slightly. “i know… but it’s been three years that you’ve been working on it.” my arms didn’t circle around his back in return. 

“stuff takes time… you know that.” james pulled away, hands on my waist as he looked at me. i nodded. “do you want me to order take out?” 

i nodded my head. “we already ate but sure.” james smiled and kissed me once. i didn’t close my eyes. 

“i’ll go order. you can change into something else.” he smiled and left the room. 

i sighed once he was gone, almost deflating. as i changed i glanced at my phone, itching to call someone.

“hey, mom.” i gave in and called my mom. 

she was delighted to hear from me, answering the call with a happy, “hey! how are you and james?” i sighed and rubbed my eyes. “did something happen?”

“yeah… well… i don’t know.” i replied. “we got into an argument.”

“about what?” 

“… spencer.” i uttered my coworkers name quietly. 

my mom sighed on the other end. “how’d it start?”

i went off in a rant when she asked, telling her about the entire argument. 

“… wow…” that was all my mom said after i’d calmed down. she paused. “well… what do you think of the whole conversation?”

i shrugged with an exhausted sigh. “i don’t know, mom. he just…” i put my head in one hand. “he doesn’t get it. spencer is my best friend and yes, friends are close, no that doesn’t mean we’re into each other. i don’t know why he gets mad at me for it.” i picked at my nails as spencer popped into my head.

“maybe he’s jealous.” my mom suggested it but she sounded very sure. “you do see spencer everyday and rarely ever see james.” 

“he’s not jealous.” i scoffed. “he knows spence isn’t a threat to our relationship. i… i love james.” i felt like i was convincing myself.

my mom hummed to herself. “you sounded hesitant.” 

i groaned. she can see right through me. “i have to go. thank you for talking with me.” i told her.

“of course. i love you.”

“i love you, mom.” i hung up and squeezed my phone in my hand. “you’re okay.” i told myself before walked into the living room where james was seated on the couch. 

he was working on his computer and didn’t look at me when i sat beside him. my phone was set on my coffee table.

“what’re you working on?” i wondered. my cheek rested on his shoulder. 

“just something i forgot to get done earlier.” he was vague but kissed the top of my head with a quick turn of his. “food will be here soon.” 

i nodded and closed my eyes only for a few minutes. 

my phone started to ring from where it was on the table and james grabbed it, answering the call without even reading the callers name. “this is james.” he said. “she’s right next to me, why do you need to talk to her?” 

i sat up from where i was rested against james as i listened to him speak with the caller. he sounded upset about who was calling. 

his eyes drifted to me. “mhm… okay, yeah, i’ll tell her. bye.” he hung up and set my phone on the coffee table harshly. “it was spencer. he said you guys have a case.” he said it without even looking at me. his jaw was clenched. 

my eyes lingered in his profile and with a quick swallow i stood up, phone in my hand as i went back to our room to grab my go bag and change into something else.

when i walked back out and headed to the door james looked at me from over the back of the couch. “how long are you gonna be gone?” he asked. 

i shrugged. “i’ll let you know when i get to the tarmac.” i said it nicely but he only settled into the couch again, his back to me. “i’ll see you when i get back. i love you.” 

he only hummed and i left.

[slytherinshua]

APPLES AND PEARS

genre. fluff. secret relationship. farmer au lmao?? warnings. rivalry between families. having to hide a relationship because of bad blood. not proofread. pairing. sion x fem!reader. wc. 2.4k. request. no. a/n. yes this is based on that one couple in my little pony.... fight me they were cute AND IT WAS A CUTE IDEA. also got the idea from @sleepy-wonus's nct wish x mlp moodboard series and sion's mb. divider by @/pommecita.

The rivalry between your family’s pear orchard and the Oh family’s apple orchard went back too far to even count. Generations of tradition went into the planting, pruning, harvesting, and selling of your pears, and you took great pride in it, much like the rest of your family. You would never get tired of the smell of sweet pears, or the process of baking the fresh fruit into pastries. 

Despite how much you liked it, you often found it overwhelming. Your parents had a few strict rules which you had to follow since you were little. There were only two of them, but you had always found them extremely hard to stick to. 

The first rule was to never eat pears from the trees. You were only allowed to have them once they had been sorted through and separated by quality. When you were younger, you despised this one the most. You absolutely loved pears no matter how many you ate. Not being able to pick them fresh off the tree to enjoy was torture.

The second rule was to never talk to the Oh family, and to never cross the property line on the west side of the farm. Around 50 acres of trees grew on your family’s property. When you were younger, you were simply never allowed to travel to the far west side. This only piqued your curiosity about the rivalled apple orchard. 

Your parents always told you that the Oh family were terrible people who had wrongly scammed your family and stolen your precious land (and loyal customers). You wholeheartedly believed them when you were younger and held the same contempt as they did for the ‘apple family’. But were they really as bad as your family insisted?

“Sion! You’re not allowed to climb the tree!” You whisper-shouted in panic, a basket of pears in your hand which you quickly dropped to the ground, “You’re out in the open again! I’m gonna get in trouble.” You whined, running up to the base of the tree and staring up at the boy. He gave you a mischievous smile. 

“If they come around, I’ll hop down and pretend like I was picking apples this entire time.” He grinned, glancing back at the property line where you saw an empty basket he had abandoned. 

Oh Sion. The oldest son of the Oh family, who you first met when you were 14, and soon found out was exactly your age. Who could blame you for being curious about him? You barely saw anyone outside of your family, much less a boy, that too from the one family you were never supposed to talk to. All the rivalry, competition, and loathing that you were supposed to hold for him disappeared as soon as you saw his face.

Now, a few years later, you and him were still keeping up the delicate act of hiding yourselves whenever you met up. Your parents would have a heart attack if they knew you had been talking to him, much less kissing him. (He was an excellent kisser, though). 

“Your bosc pears are sweeter this year.” He commented, pointing at the fruit hanging from the branch he was sitting on. You could tell he was fishing for compliments— trying to impress you with his knowledge on the fruit.

“Don’t start acting like a pear expert just because you can finally tell the difference. You didn’t even know there were different types before I told you.” You rolled your eyes, “Get down from the tree. You’re putting stress on the branch.” 

“Only if you give me a kiss.” Sion said gleefully, hopping down to the ground in one smooth motion. 

You stepped forward, caging him in against the tree with one hand, “You want a kiss in return for trespassing on my property?” You raised an eyebrow, amused at his antics.

His eyes twinkled, “Are you going to give it to me or not? I don’t have all day.” His hand slipped to your waist, waiting for you to make the move. You leaned in, eyes fluttering shut. Just as your lips touched his and you were met with the sweet taste of apple and cinnamon, you heard a voice drawing nearer. 

You both pulled apart on instinct, and Sion slipped behind the tree and back across the property line without another word. You lamented over the unfortunate timing for a moment before picking up your basket and facing your aunt who had come to ask for your help with the pear butter.

After finishing up the batch of pear butter and peeling and cutting a few baskets of pears, you were finally sent on harvesting duty again. You snuck back to the same tree, hoping that Sion would still be picking apples nearby. It was easy to spot the head of dirty blond against the trees bearing sweet gala apples. 

“No worms got in this year, I hope?” You teased, stepping over the line into the apple orchard. Sion tossed you an apple from the branch.

“See for yourself.”

You smiled, taking a seat on the grass as you watched him work. He was tall, and able to reach the fruit easily. Although he was also lazy, opting to bend the branches down to reach instead of getting a ladder. You bit into the apple, a pleased smile on your face whenever you had the opportunity to break a rule. Sion watched you with a smirk as well, the sentiment shared.

He had been brought up similarly, although not quite as harsh as your parents. Rather than seeing your family as having wronged his, you were painted as lesser and therefore not worth his time. Apples always sold more than pears— the proof was in the fruit, as Sion’s mother said. Sion had always liked pears himself. 

“You owe me for earlier.” He said as he plucked the last apple from the branch. 

“I’m ready to pay up.” You smiled, beckoning him over next to you.

“Good. Because I was feeling a bit cheated.” He plopped down on the ground beside you, shuffling next to you until your knees were touching. You cupped his cheek and drew his face to yours, sighing happily when there were no interruptions to your kiss. 

There were always unanswered questions that came with your relationship with Sion. The simple fact that neither of your parents would ever accept the other often made thinking of the future impossible. So, you lived in the present. You enjoyed every day you saw Sion, and took every opportunity you could to talk to him, hold him, kiss him. You loved him wholeheartedly. 

He pressed his lips harder against yours, deepening the kiss. The taste of the apple you had just eaten on your tongue made him pull apart to giggle. You tasted like him, and it made his chest feel warm.

“I have the fall fair for a week, you know. I won’t be able to see you.” He mumbled, catching his breath.

“Don’t remind me.” You shushed him of the thought with your lips finding his again, desperately getting your fill of the feeling before you would inevitably be deprived of it again. 

As much as he would’ve liked to stay kissing you for the rest of the day, preparations for the fair separated you two once again. You only had time to give him a couple pears to stash away for the trip before he left. He was busy for the rest of the day, preparing recipes and packaging hundreds of apples into boxes. By the time evening came, he had already left on the long drive to town.

You hated when Sion was away. There were many tasks you could do to keep yourself busy, but your small breaks to talk to him at the edge of the farm kept you motivated unlike anything else. Seeing the empty apple orchard only made you miss him more; so you tried to stay inside the house as much as possible.

Your grandma was working on new quilts for the winter. Most of the fabric had patterns of pears or leaves on them, but you found a random stash of apple related ones as well. Deciding to take up your own sewing project, you started to make a small quilt for Sion (although you told your mother it was just a personal project). 

The days had never gone slower. Although it was peak pear season and the orchard was doing better than ever, you were starting to get sick of pears. When Sion wasn’t there, you quickly grew tired of having to be surrounded by them all the time. They weren’t a source of your pride anymore if everyone else around you already shared it with you.

Two days before he was supposed to return, you found yourself walking over to the property line again. It was evening and the chance of any of your family seeing you by the westside trees that had already been picked was low. You didn’t even try to hide your intention as you crossed over the line, looking for a fresh apple to pick. You just missed him that bad.

“Missed me that much, huh?” 

You startled from the sound of his voice, dropping the apple you had just plucked from the tree out of shock. You turned around and there he was. His face was obscured from the night darkness, but you didn’t even need to see his face to know he was wearing his signature grin. 

You ran into his arms, the feeling of him squeezing you tightly suggesting that he missed you even more than you did. He smelled slightly like pears, and it brought a small smile to your face. 

“Why are you back so early? Did I not give you enough pears to keep you away?” You pulled back from the hug, pushing back some of his hair to better see his face. He was so pretty.

“I ran out by the third day. You should’ve given me a better stock.” He complained. “My parents sent me to catch the honeycrisp harvest on the best day. The timing didn’t work out too well this year, so I volunteered to go back by myself.” He told you, “And maybe I also wanted some more pears.” The whispered afterthought made you giggle. 

For the first time ever, you slipped onto the Oh’s orchard without any fear. You found Sion sitting on the porch, peeling apples by hand with a small knife. He didn’t notice you at first, partly because he was so focused on his task, and partly because you had never dared to come this far onto his family’s farm before. 

“What are you making with those?” You asked as you took a seat beside him.

“Apple sauce. We like to slow cook them for a couple hours, but not too long otherwise it’ll turn out too watery. Never overnight.” He grinned, reaching over to a basket and handing you a knife. “Since you’re here, you might as well help.” 

“I feel like I’m cheating on at least 10 generations of my family.” You commented as you grabbed a fresh apple from the pail at his feet and started peeling away the skin. 

You were a bit clumsy with the knife on the apple. They were much bigger than your pears, not to mention a completely different shape. You definitely didn’t have as much skill in the area as Sion. He finished peeling three apples in the time it took you to just do one. His peels dropped into the compost bucket in one clean long spiral, while yours were scrappy and broken. 

“Hold it like this.” Sion said softly, adjusting your hands so that you steadied the apple with your thumb and cut towards it. You watched him demonstrate how to peel it the best, starting from the top of the apple and finishing at the bottom without breaking the peel once. It was perfectly thin without catching any of the fruit on it. You had to admit that watching him do it so perfectly was hot.

With his guidance, you saw better results immediately, although you would never accomplish his level of over 15 years with just 1 afternoon of practice. Once the apples were peeled, you started to core and cut them into medium sized chunks. You had much more success with it, as you were more used to coring pears. 

Cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves went into the pot as seasoning for the fruit. The smell of fall enveloped your senses with sweet and spicy scents. Maybe it was because the same notes were always what Sion lips tasted like, or maybe it was your growing love for any recipe that included apples in it, but you were obsessed with the smell. 

“I should hire you on the farm. Who knew the pear girl would be so good with apples?” Sion teased you once you were done, taking a walk around the orchard together to check on the state of the trees.

“If only our family’s didn’t hate each other.” You mused, letting a sigh leave your lips. You finally had a taste of what it would be like to not have to hide. You knew you would always enjoy any time you spent with Sion, but you didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as you did. 

“It’s a shame. Apples and pears aren’t even that different. They’re better together, in fact.” Sion commented, nudging you with his elbow. You laughed at his hidden meaning, linking your fingers together with his as you neared the pear side of the farm.

“See you tomorrow?” You asked, stepping over the line, Sion still standing on his side. You toyed with his fingers, delaying when you would actually have to say goodbye.

“You know where to find me.” He smiled, letting you decide when to finally let go of his hands. 

Like always, saying goodbye was the worst part of the day, for both you and Sion. Being so close to you, yet so separated left a sour taste in Sion’s mouth. He so badly wished he could spend every moment with you, or even help around your family’s farm as well. He was more likely to get a pear to his face than even the slightest chance of your family accepting him. So, he cut his losses when he had to. He still felt grateful for what he had.

He had you. Sion was hopelessly in love with you, a feeling that you shared without hesitance. And that itself was enough for both of you. 

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @talking-saxy,, @hursheys,,

@kristianities,, @lilly-cherry7

[lewmagoo]

six summers | bob floyd

description: it's been six years. six years since you walked away from the man you loved. six years since the night that your own foolish actions led to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old melissa seresin. you’ve spent these last few years living with crippling guilt. and after everything that happened, the last thing you are expecting is an invite to return to the camp and reassume your role as counselor. but here you are, staring in disbelief at a letter asking you to do just that. providing you with the opportunity to make things right. will you be able to come to terms with the past and allow yourself to accept this second chance? or will you let your guilt consume you?

characters: bob floyd x reader, the dagger squad as their respective characters, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, a number of my own ocs

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death, guilt, references to sex, mentions of anxiety

series status: ongoing

listen to the playlist here!

this story is inspired by @ryebecca and this fantastic moodboard she made ; i also drew some inspiration from riley sager's the last time i lied

*this is my own original work - i do not consent to having it reposted or redistributed in any way

July 30th, 1980

1:15 am

All you felt was terror. Icy cold, like someone had shoved their frigid fingers beneath your shirt, digits pressing harsh, angry bruises into the skin while they were at it. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you stood in the damp morning air, your eyes flitting about nervously, your gut churning with nausea. 

“You do realize that your negligence in this situation is going to come with consequences, right? How could you be so stupid?!” Penny Mitchell’s voice had a sharp edge to it, despite her lowered tone. Her eyes were piercing. You couldn’t look at her.

“Don’t try to pin this all on her. I’m just as much to blame.” That was Bobby’s voice, coming from beside you, an air of protectiveness emanating from him as he stepped closer, standing in solidarity with you.

“Oh, trust me, I’m holding you responsible, too. But she’s the one who was supposed to be in charge of that cabin. If she would have been at her post, this wouldn’t have happened. But no! The two of you were off doing God knows what, while one of our campers wandered off into the night!” 

Penny got into your face, pointing her finger, her anger palpable, radiating off her in waves. “You had better pray that girl is still alive, because if she winds up dead, her blood is on your hands, counselor.”

May 18th, 1986

10:30 am

“Mail’s in!” The voice of your roommate carried through your apartment, pulling your attention from the rhythmic tapping of the antique typewriter you’d picked up from a yard sale. Without a second thought, you sprang from your chair, flinging open your bedroom door, bare feet quick against carpet as you hurried toward the kitchen, where Margie was just walking through the door with a stack of mail. 

“Any of it addressed to me?” You asked, a hopeful inflection in your voice. 

Margie nodded, tossing the envelopes onto the countertop. “Yeah, you’re popular, got two letters addressed to you.”

Eagerly, you shuffled through the stack before you located the letters she was talking about. One had no definitive markings, so you had no idea where it was from. But the other had a promising logo on the front– The Capital Gazette.

“The Gazette sent something back!” You exclaimed, flipping the envelope over, fingers trembling as you tore into the seal. 

Margie gasped, her attention immediately zeroing in on the letter you held. “What did they say?!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“Gimme a minute!” You shot back as you rushed to unfold the paper. Your eyes hurriedly scanned the contents, but within moments, your shoulders fell, the thrill of hope fading away to heavy disappointment. The words we regret to inform you were all you needed to read to know what the letter was about.

“I didn’t get the job,” came your glum statement.

“What?” Margie snatched the paper off the counter when you let it drop, reading it for herself. “Oh, come on! You’re the best damn writer I know, how could they turn you down?!”

You shook your head, fighting the tears of disappointment that had gathered on your lash line. “They don’t need me. They’ve got better writers.”

“That’s bullshit!” She huffed, shaking her head, knocking some of her unkempt curls loose from her haphazard ponytail. 

“Whatever,” you said, bitterly. “There are other newspapers I can apply to. Other magazines. People are hiring all over the place,” you said, hoping to instill hope in your own heart. But it did little to lift your spirits. 

Your roommate sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“Thanks, Mar. So am I.”

Her attention shifted to the other, unopened letter on the counter. “What’s that one say?”

With a clueless shrug, you reached for it. All it bore was your address in handwriting that was oddly familiar. Tentatively, you tore into the envelope, brows furrowed as you unfolded the paper and began to read.

And then, “holy shit.”

“What is it?” Margie demanded, curious. When you looked at her, she noticed the expression of worry etched into your brow. 

“Camp Mitchell,” you whispered. 

At that, the woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” And then, she waved her hand, motioning you on. “What does it say?”

“They…they want me to come back as a counselor.”

I hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to you because I wanted to extend a formal invitation to return to camp as a counselor this summer. I know that things ended on a sour note for all of us involved, but Pete and I desire to breathe new life into this camp. We want to give other campers the chance to experience the wonder and magic of summertime at Camp Mitchell. I understand if you would prefer not to return, but it would be an honor to have you back with us again. Think we can agree to let bygones be bygones? I sure do hope so. Please give me a call at the number below and let me know if you would like to return and reassume your role as a camp counselor. Arrival deadline for counselors is May 24th. Hope to see you soon!

Best wishes, 

Penny Mitchell

You stared at the words in absolute shock. They wanted you to come back? After everything that had happened? After your own foolishness had resulted in a girl going missing? You had to admit, it was a bold move on Penny’s part. 

The police had heavily investigated you when young Melissa Seresin went missing six years prior. Penny had even blamed you for the girl’s disappearance. It was hard to imagine her wanting you to come anywhere near her camp ever again.

“I need to sit down,” you muttered, tossing the letter back onto the counter and stepping toward the kitchen table, where you hurriedly pulled out one of the chairs and lowered yourself into the seat. Two life-altering events had just taken place in the span of five minutes. You needed to process all of it. 

As you tried to regain your wits, Margie scanned over the letter. Then, she sauntered over to you, letting out a sigh as she pulled out the chair across from you and flopped down into it, her legs parted, arms falling down to dangle over the sides. She blew a pesky curl away from her face. 

Sympathetic brown eyes landed upon you, and the girl before you smiled softly. Understandingly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I really don’t know,” you said. “Since the job with The Gazette fell through…I might have no choice but to take up the offer to go back to camp. At least I’d be making some kind of income during the summer while I try to figure things out.”

Margie raised a dark brow. “Listen, you do what you think is best for you. But…after everything that happened there, are you sure you’re ready to go back? It’s only been six years.” She was not coming from a place of judgment. She was coming from a place of genuine concern for her friend. 

You groaned softly, placing your head in your hands. “I dunno know what to do. Honestly, I’m not ready. But then again it might give me closure. And maybe that’s what Penny is thinking. If she wants to make things right with me after the way things ended…maybe I should go.”

The girl sighed. “Yeah, I guess closure might be something that comes outta this. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that shit again, though.”

Your mouth quirked into a grateful smile. “I know, Mar. I’ve gotta think about it, first. I’m not making any decisions yet.”

“Well, let me know what you decide. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

As Margie left you at the table to be alone with your thoughts, you considered the weight of the situation. It had all happened so fast, and you felt as if you were caught up in a whirlwind. You only had a week to make a decision, because you had to be at camp on the 24th if you decided to go. 

Were you ready to go back, after only six short years? The thought made your stomach turn. Camp Mitchell was a place that held a lot of trauma for you. Your life had fallen apart there. 

You had been a first-year counselor in the summer of 1980. A job meant to get you through the summer, before you returned to college in the fall. You remembered being so hopeful and excited about what the summer held. 

Camp Mitchell was a camp situated in Michigan’s wilderness. Secluded, surrounded by forests as far as the eye could see. Quaint little wooden cabins. A mess hall. A volleyball pit. A lake. All the other amenities that a typical summer camp would have. 

You were put in charge of the junior/senior girls' cabin. Eleventh and twelfth graders. You were slightly intimidated because you were only a few years older than they were. You worried that they would not respect you. But much to your relief, the girls accepted you with open arms. 

Throughout the many weeks of camp, you bonded with several different girls who passed through your cabin. But none of them connected as well with you as Melissa Seresin. 

July 1980

She was the younger sister of one of the other counselors, Jake Seresin, and she was sweet as could be. She attended camp most of the summer, because her brother worked there, and she didn’t want to remain stuck at home alone while her parents traveled for the summer. 

So, she tagged along with Jake. Unlike her brother, she was not cocky. She had a very kindhearted demeanor. A little spoiled, once in a while, due to being the youngest and only girl of rich parents and a doting older brother, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate. 

Melissa remained a semi-permanent fixture in your cabin, even as groups of girls from different places — schools, church youth groups, family groups, so on and so forth — passed through all summer. 

She knew the camp like the back of her hand, and had spent a few summers there already. You didn’t have to worry about her like you might other campers, because she was well aware of the camp’s procedures. 

That was why it was so jarring when, one night in the middle of the summer, she disappeared without a trace. 

Late one night, after lights out, the girls in your cabin noticed her absence. Melissa was always in bed come lights out. Not always asleep, but certainly always present. Her neatly made, unoccupied bed raised suspicions, but it was her missing backpack that made the girls think that she had left altogether.

You were not at your post like you were supposed to be. Earlier that night, you had enforced lights out, but soon after had slipped out into the night to meet someone. The girls ranged from fifteen to eighteen years old, so you were not particularly concerned about them getting up to mischief. But in your haste to leave, you neglected to double-check that Melissa was present. 

To your utter shame, you had left to meet up with another counselor. The head counselor of the seventh and eighth-grade boys' cabin, Robert Floyd. Bob to his friends. Mr. Bob to the campers. Bobby to you, and only you. 

It wasn’t in your nature to sneak around. Neither was it in Bob’s. But you had gotten tangled up in an impassioned summer fling, and you took advantage of every free moment you had to be together. 

It was in that time span of you and Bob sneaking off to the lake, that Melissa had gone missing. And when you returned to the cabin an hour later, the girls were all awake, in a slight state of upheaval. 

“Where have you been?!” Asked Claudia, one of the senior girls. “I was about to leave and go find Mrs. Mitchell!”

“I needed some air. Why, what’s up?” You cautiously asked. 

Claudia motioned to Melissa’s empty bed. “Melissa never made it in for lights out.”

You stared at the bed, its covers untouched and meticulously tucked in, as a hotel bed would be. That was the way she made it every morning. She hadn’t been in that bed since last night. “No, she was here when I left!” You insisted. 

“Um, no she wasn’t,” Marissa, another senior, piped up. “Plus, her backpack is gone.”

“Oh, God. Well, that’s my bad for sure. Okay, um, I’m sure she can’t have gotten far. She knows this camp well. Don’t worry, I’ll go take a look around. The rest of you, stay put. Lemme just do a count to make sure nobody else went off with her.”

After a headcount, you came up with fourteen girls. Melissa would make fifteen, so she was the only one missing. Huffing out a sigh, and attempting to keep yourself calm and neutral so the girls wouldn’t panic, you squared your shoulders.

“I’ll go grab another counselor and we’ll take a look. Claudia, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge. Make sure no one leaves. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. I know you’re a little freaked right now but it’s gonna be okay.” The biggest lie you could have told them. It was, in fact, not going to be okay.

“What should we do if she comes back?” Claudia asked, running a nervous hand through her thick brunette locks. Her dark eyes were fearful, although she was trying to appear brave, just as you were trying to do. 

“Just make sure she stays put. I’ll come back and check in a bit, if I don’t find her, and we can touch base then.”

Once you were certain the girls understood the plan, you excused yourself again, stepping out into the humid July night. Crickets sang as you ambled down the path that led to the boys’ cabins, but the pounding of your heart in your ears drowned out the sound. 

Your hands shook, unsteady as you held your flashlight before you. Tears blurred your vision, and the heat of embarrassment washed over you. How could you be so stupid? Here you were, off getting laid while one of your girls was nowhere to be found.

You had to look for her, but you weren’t going to do it alone. Hurriedly, you ascended the steps of cabin 13, the first of the boys’ cabins. Light on your feet, so as not to step on any squeaky boards, you crept closer to the door. 

Three soft raps, five seconds apart. That was your code. And sure enough, within moments, the door inched open, and there was your Bobby. You had just seen him twenty minutes prior, but he’d already changed into his sleep clothes. An old camp shirt and basketball shorts. 

Brow furrowed, he quietly closed the door behind him, stepping out onto the porch. You reached for his hand and guided him off the porch, onto the soft, sandy ground. “What’s goin’ on, Kit?” He asked. The nickname he’d dubbed you for reasons so much more lighthearted than the situation you were facing.

“Melissa’s gone,” you whispered. “The girls said she was never there for lights out.”

“Huh? But you checked on them before you left.”

“I did, but I…I guess I just missed Melissa. I thought she was there, but tonight was so chaotic…God, I can’t believe I could be so stupid” You despaired.

“Shh,” Bob soothed, reaching out to run comforting hands down your arms. “Hey, she probably just went for a walk. I’m not close to her, but I know she likes to go and write in that journal of hers a lot. She’s probably doing that.”

“But that’s not like her. Yeah, she writes in her diary but she’s never done this before. Just…up and left like that. I’m scared, Bobby. I think something might’ve happened to her. And it’s all my fault.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even let your mind go there. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” His hands had moved to cup your cheeks. “Tell you what, I’ll help you look for her. If we don’t find her in the next hour, we can tell Penny and get a search party goin’.”

You prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but the sick feeling in your gut told you otherwise. It was your fault, no matter how much Bobby tried to assure you it wasn’t. If Melissa was truly missing, then you were the one to blame. But you didn’t dare speak it into the air. You couldn’t.

“O-okay. We can look together, then.”

And so, the two of you set off on the search for Melissa Seresin. Missy, as her brother liked to call her. You thought of Jake, who was in charge of the senior boys’ cabin. You knew he’d be pissed that you didn’t wake him up immediately and tell him what was going on. He was very protective of his baby sister. But you didn’t want to involve him just yet. You had to try to find her yourself, first. 

You set out to search all the places she frequented. Melissa wasn’t as outgoing as her brother. She had a vibrant personality, but also had introverted tendencies. She cherished her alone time, so it wasn’t odd for her to be at the lake, or the horse stables, writing. But she was always visible, and she had never sneaked off before. And certainly not after dark, either. 

These woods were terrifying at night. It was easy to get lost in their vastness. Even a girl who knew her way around could get lost. But you prayed that wasn’t the case. 

You took to searching her usual hangout spots. The lake, even though you and Bob had been there a half hour ago, and hadn’t seen her. Sure enough, she wasn’t there. Then, you took a peek in the horse stables. The camp had not yet obtained horses to occupy the stables, so it was just an empty building.

Hopeful, you followed Bob inside, holding your breath as he called out, “Melissa? You in here, honey? It’s Bob Floyd.”

But you were met with dead silence, so deafening it brought a shiver down your spine. “Oh, my God. She’s gone. She’s gone forever. This is all my fault!” You panicked, burying your face in your hands. 

Bobby, ever the calm and steady one, gently soothed you. “Hey. Hey! Look at me.”

You lifted your tearful eyes to his face, illuminated by the yellow glow of your flashlight. 

“It’s gon’ be okay, alright? We’ll find her. We just need to go get Penny and Pete and tell ‘em what happened. We can get a search party organized. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Lovingly, he took your hand, and together, you made the trek back toward the main part of camp, where the office, mess hall, and staff quarters were. The entire walk, your mind was spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Melissa. 

Something was wrong. You knew it. 

And, as it would turn out, you were, unfortunately, right. Melissa Seresin never was found. Not when you and the other counselors organized a search party. Not when the police got involved. Not when Jake and Melissa’s dad, an agent in the FBI, got his team involved. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.

Jake blamed you. But that was okay, because you blamed yourself, too. 

Your own negligence was the reason Melissa was gone. And the police grilled you for it. Much to your utter relief, the Seresins chose not to press charges. But you were left to live with the guilt, and that was punishment enough.

And now, here you were. Six years later. Wounds from the past only partially healed. Presented with an opportunity to go back to the place where it all started, and ended. If you did return, would those wounds reopen, and drain the blood from your veins? Or would those wounds finally heal?

And most importantly, did you have the guts to find out?

One Week Later

A ticket reading Harper, Michigan was clutched tightly in your hand, the paper rumpling from your grip. Your suitcase and duffel bag were beside you, as you stood at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound to pull up and take you to your destination.

“I still think you’re crazy for this,” Margie spoke from beside you. She’d come to see you off. 

You turned to her, taking in her soft smile, despite her disapproval of your choice. “I know,” you replied. 

“But I also understand why you want to do this. I really hope it gives you the closure you’re looking for.”

You threw your arms around your friend’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mar. I’ll try to give you a call at some point in the next few weeks, but the only phone on the property is the one in the main office and I doubt I’ll have time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can tell me all about it when you get back,” she assured you. 

You took one last good look at her, as you knew you wouldn’t see her for a few months, if you fulfilled your commitment to work the entire camp season. The late morning sun shone down from the sky, illuminating her dark curls. Always so unkempt, but the style suited her. 

“I’ll be seeing ya,” you finally said.

She nodded, squeezing your hand. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”

The bus pulled into the stop as you bid your final goodbyes, and then, you handed off your luggage to the attendant to pack away beneath the bus before you climbed the steps into the large vehicle, flashing your ticket to the driver. You took a seat toward the back, settling in and placing your purse beside you, hoping that you would get two of the tackily upholstered seats all to yourself. 

As soon as you were settled, you fished your Walkman out of your bag, unraveling the headphones and placing them on your head. As soon as you hit play, the opening sound of the 1975 Eagles album, One of These Nights, filled your ears.

You had purposely chosen this tape to accompany you on your trip, because it held a lot of nostalgic memories for you. Namely, it had been a gift from your Bobby. He’d given it to you in the beginning stages of your romance, after you’d expressed to him that the album was one of your favorites.

“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “A memento that you can have all the time, to remind you of what a great time we had together here.”

And you did have a great time. But the trauma of Melissa’s disappearance had soured the whole thing. All you had left of Bobby was this tape, and a few braided jute bracelets he had made you, from plant fibers. You still wore them on your wrist to this day. 

He had tried to keep in contact with you after the camp shut down. He’d sent letters. Called your home phone. But you never answered. As much as you loved him, the reminder of what had happened was too painful, and you let your connection to him fizzle out. 

But as you listened to the familiar cords, a rush of memories flooded you, the wave so intense that it took your breath away. Flashes of Bob’s beautiful face. Twinkling eyes, blushing cheeks, a crinkled button nose. The prettiest laughter you’d ever heard.

Large, warm hands exploring. Lips trailing searing kisses down your sternum. Whispers of your name. Groans of pl–

With a gasp, you snatched the headphones off your head, eyes flickering about, as if someone around you could have heard your thoughts. But everyone else was in their own little world, completely oblivious to the salacious flashbacks you had just experienced.

But they made you warm with shame nonetheless. 

You’d be foolish not to admit that you’d thought of Bobby over the years. Looked back on your encounters with fondness. With desire. You’d been sexually involved with a few other people since then, but the entire time, you could only think of him. It was why you’d stopped seeing other people. They weren’t your Bobby. 

You wondered if he thought about you, too.

More importantly, you wondered if he’d be returning to Camp Mitchell like you were. Were you ready to face him again? The thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

You imagined he’d moved on. He had to. Hell, he probably had a wife and kids already. Imagining such a thing sent a queasy rush through you. You still weren’t over him, and you supposed you never would be. He was your first great love. 

But he wasn’t the only person you would potentially face from your past. 

Your mind went to the other counselors you’d worked with that fateful summer. Specifically, you thought of Jake Seresin. Surely he wouldn’t return to camp, right? Not after his baby sister had disappeared from that very place. It had to be too painful for him. 

Little did you know, everyone you had worked with was also traveling from their own respective homes and cities, headed right for Camp Mitchell, just like you were. 

The camp was founded by Pete and Penny Mitchell, a husband and wife duo. They had started it with the best of intentions. It was in its fifth successful year when you came on staff. And that just so happened to be the last year it was in operation. 

Until now. 

What had made the couple decide it was a good idea to reopen the camp, you had no idea. But you were going to give it a chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all. 

But several hours later, as the Greyhound pulled into the station in Harper, a tiny town boasting of a general store, a bus depot, and a long, winding road that led up to the camp itself. 

As you stepped off the bus, you realized one very important detail: you had no idea how you were even getting up to the camp. Would they send a driver down to retrieve everyone? 

Your question was soon answered when you caught sight of a large white poster board propped against a nearby lamppost. CAMP MITCHELL STAFF WAIT HERE. A DRIVER WILL ESCORT YOU TO CAMP. 

With a sigh, you rolled your suitcase over to the post, hoping you wouldn’t have to wait long. And you didn’t. About five minutes later, an old teal-colored truck came down the road, its engine obnoxiously loud. On the side, Camp Mitchell was printed in bold letters. 

You straightened, smoothing out your travel-rumpled clothes as you grabbed your belongings, prepared to help load everything into the truck. It didn’t even occur to you that you might know the driver. You expected to meet someone entirely new. 

As soon as the vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, you were already moving to the truck bed, hoisting your duffel bag over the side, letting it land with a satisfying thump. 

“Here, let me,” a familiar voice spoke up, and in moments, a pair of hands were stealing your suitcase away, heaving it into the bed. 

You looked up at the man assisting you, and your blood ran cold. As he turned from putting your luggage in place, he froze, too. Wide blue eyes, no longer hidden beneath a pair of wireframes, locked with your own. 

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. 

But he did. In a voice as smooth and soft as butter, yet breathless with surprise. “Kit?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. 

Kit. The nickname he’d dubbed you six years ago. It was something so simple. So silly. You’d had an affinity for KitKat bars that summer. They were the only candy bars you liked from the camp store. As a joke, Bobby had said “I should call you KitKat, since you like those things so much.”

And thus, it was shortened to Kit. The name stuck. 

Hearing it again made your head spin. You felt woozy on your feet. You swayed a little. A memory flashed in your mind. You and him. Sitting under the old weeping willow. His fingertips wiping chocolate from the corner of your mouth. 

It sent a burning ache through your chest. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “B-Bobby.” The first words you’d spoken to him in six years. 

He let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d show.” 

You gathered yourself, trying to regain your composure. “I didn’t either,” you whispered. 

He offered a tentative smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though.”

You lifted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. “You are?”

“Gosh, I am. It’s been too long. I didn’t…didn’t know what happened to you. You never responded to my calls or letters. I thought maybe…” He wouldn’t speak it out loud. He couldn’t. 

But you inferred what he meant from his tone. He’d feared that the trauma of what had happened had been too much for you to handle. That you’d succumbed to it all. 

“I was working on myself. Trying to heal.”

He nodded. “Understandable.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “I really am glad to see you, though. You look well.”

You shrugged. “I’m workin’ on it. And I’m glad to see you too.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and you realized how much he’d changed, but also stayed the same. He’d filled out. His shoulders were more broad. Muscular. His glasses were gone, presumably replaced with contacts. His hair, once close-cropped, was longer now, curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from beneath the baseball cap he wore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. 

He looked like a man. 

But there was still that boyish glint in his eyes, and hiding behind his smile. Still that same gentleness reserved particularly for you. It was overwhelming, and you could feel your chest beginning to tighten. 

“Are you, uh, are you ready to head up there? Or do ya need a minute?” Bobby asked, his voice low. Laced with concern. 

You stepped back. “I thought I could do this. Maybe I can’t.”

He let you have your space. “Take all the time you need.”

The rush of memories flooding you was overwhelming. The last time you saw him. The last thing you said to him. 

Six Years Ago

The day you left camp, it was raining. Pouring from the sky in sheets, washing everything in a gray hue that made the world look like a watercolor painting. 

The sandy ground squashed beneath your feet as you walked toward that old truck, with the camp’s logo on the side. Your luggage was stuffed into the truck bed, wrapped in plastic garbage bags so it wouldn’t get wet in the downpour. 

As you climbed into the cab, Bobby came running out of the main office, making a beeline for the truck. He scrambled to wrench open the door and join you inside, breathing labored as he settled into the seat. 

For a few moments, it was silent, save for the sound of him moving to start the engine. He fiddled with the heat dial, hoping to reduce the fog on the windows, as the rain had made the air unseasonably chilly that morning. 

You both sat there, staring out the windshield, watching the water trickle down the glass. He made no move to put the truck in gear. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“Bobby—”

“No, listen to me. I’m sorry it came to this. It shouldn’t have.”

“What’s done is done. Please, let’s just get out of here. I can’t stay in this place another minute.”

Bobby lingered for a moment, his eyes on you, even as you refused to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you’d melt into a fit of tears. So, with a soft sigh, he put the truck in drive, and began the journey down the winding dirt road that led out of camp. 

The trip was silent. You had nothing left to say, because you’d exhausted all your words these last few weeks. Countless hours of interrogation. Recounting that night over and over again. The conclusion was that a girl was missing, and it likely would not have happened if you’d been doing your job. That was a sense of guilt that you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

Bob pulled into the bus station fifteen minutes later, and you didn’t hesitate as you hurried to slide out of your seat, shoes colliding with wet asphalt. Your chest was tight, eyes blurring with tears as you rushed to grab your luggage. 

“Would ya stop for a minute?!” Bobby exclaimed, reaching out to gently grab at your arm. 

But you jerked away from him. “Please, don’t…don’t make this harder than it is,” you whispered.

He stared at you, brilliant blue eyes wide, filled with emotion. “So, what, you won’t even say goodbye?”

You feared that saying goodbye would break the dam, and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. You’d fall into his arms, sobbing your heart out, and you would never get on that bus. The man before you sighed, shaking his head before he moved to haul your suitcase out of the truck, placing the plastic-covered bag on the sidewalk. 

“That’s it then?” He spoke, his tone grim.

Squaring your shoulders, you nodded, forcing yourself to hold it together. “Goodbye, Robert.”

You turned to leave, and he watched you go, his heart falling to pieces within him. He was losing you, perhaps forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to go after you. Wanted to shake you and tell you to just listen. But you were so entrenched in the trauma of what had happened that he wasn’t sure you could listen to reason at all.

So he let you leave. He watched you climb onto that Greyhound, bound for home, all while he was left there with a wound in his heart, wishing that things could have ended differently. Wishing that your love for each other had been enough to keep you with him.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. And that was something he had to live with.

May 1986

Seeing you again was a lot for him. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, now, if that was possible. He was also hit with a rush of emotions. He never thought he’d see you again. When he’d received the letter from Penny, inviting him back to camp, he had thought about you, and was sure you wouldn’t come back.

But here you were, standing before him, uncertain and anxious, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But he kept his distance, not wanting to invade your personal space. You weren’t his any longer. He could not touch you the way he used to. 

You took a moment to pull yourself together, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, trying to ground yourself. Then, you fixed your posture, and nodded in Bob’s direction. “Alright. I think…I think I’m okay. We can, um, we can leave if you’re ready.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into that old truck once again, just as you had six years ago. 

Everything had come full circle.

Bobby rounded the truck and settled into the driver’s seat, and soon, he’d started the engine, pulling away from the curb, turning onto the road that led up to camp. Your gut churned with anxiety. You were really doing this. There was no turning back now. 

The radio played softly as Bob drove. Some old country song. Hank Williams, you thought. Its grainy, peaceful tune did well to calm your anxiety. Your hands had stopped trembling.

“It’s been a while,” the man beside you murmured. His accent seemed to have gotten thicker, a slight twang to it. 

“I know,” you replied, staring down at your lap. Then, “God, I’m so sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t have gone no contact like I did. I got the letters you sent. And I got every message you left on my answering machine. But I just…I couldn’t bring myself to respond.”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. I should’ve given you more space. I know everything that happened was a lot for you.”

“But that’s no excuse for me to just ignore you. It wasn’t right of me. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted. It’s in the past, Kit. We can leave it there.”

It was that easy. A soothing sense of relief washed over you, warming you from head to toe. That exchange made you feel a little more at ease, and the conversation soon shifted.

“Did everyone come back this year?”

He nodded, humming lowly. “Most of ‘em, surprisingly. Bradley, Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, Javy. Half got here last night. The rest came earlier this mornin’.”

You hesitated, picking at a jagged nail on your right hand. “And…Jake?”

Bob was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, him too.”

You recoiled in confusion. “But…why would he come back?”

“Penny didn’t say it in her letter, but they’re doing a dedication ceremony for Melissa. There’s a new garden area they installed in the main part of camp. It’s gonna be called Melissa Jo’s Garden. They had a plaque made and everything. Jake agreed to come for the ceremony. I dunno if he’s staying all summer though.”

“Oh.” It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You had not left things on a good note with Jake. He harbored deep resentment toward you for neglecting to watch over your cabin. He blamed you for his sister’s disappearance. 

“He seems to be handling everything alright. He might actually be okay with seeing you again.”

But you weren’t so sure. There was that nervousness again, roiling in your gut. Did you have the nerve to face him? And how would he react? You doubted he’d welcome you back with open arms. 

You’d soon find out, because just up ahead, the Camp Mitchell sign could be seen. Large, deep green in color, with white lettering. So familiar, yet so foreign all at once. 

You couldn’t believe you were back. What if this turned out to be the most foolish decision you’d ever made?

You didn’t have time to consider that, because Bobby was pulling into the common area in no time, and killing the engine. It was time to face the past you’d been running like hell to get away from. 

As Bob got out to gather your luggage, you pushed the old, squeaky passenger door open and let your feet land in the soft sand. 

The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled your nose. It sent an intense wave of nostalgia through you. So much had changed, and yet nothing had, all at the same time. 

The layout was still the same. Clinic. Main office. Mess hall. Common area. But in the middle of the main entrance was a small garden. Stone paths weaved throughout. Spindly bushes, multicolored flowers, and other plants decorated the soil. Right in the middle of the garden was what appeared to be a large stone, covered with a tarp. You assumed the plaque for Melissa was hidden beneath the tarp. 

And then, a voice caught your attention. You looked up to find Penny Mitchell approaching you. Blue cotton shorts, accessorized with a belt. A blue and white striped t-shirt tucked into them. A pair of hiking boots were on her feet. Practical, that one was. Always ready for an outdoor excursion at a moment’s notice.

You braced yourself, unsure of how she would behave toward you. She had rightfully held you responsible for Melissa’s disappearance, and you weren’t sure if she’d moved on from that. But, if she’d invited you back, she had to have at least found it in her heart to forgive you. You hoped so, anyway. 

“Welcome!” She said, sweeping her arms out in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, um, thanks. Me…me too,” you said, unsure of the proper response. 

Bobby sidled up beside you. You didn’t feel so alone with him there.

“Did Bob fill you in on everything on the drive up?”

“Kinda, yeah,” came your answer.

Penny nodded. “Once everyone is settled, Pete and I will take you on a tour. We’ve made a lot of changes these last few months.” Then she looked at Bob. “Would you show her to her cabin? We’ll put her in cabin five.”

“Sure thing,” he replied.

“We’ll have a little orientation meeting after dinner. There’s a whole itinerary we have to go over. I put a schedule in your cabin. Any questions?”

Yeah, lots. You stared at her for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you invite me back? After everything that happened?”

She regarded you silently, her expression neutral. Then, she said, “Because I believe in second chances. Or, rather, my husband does. He wanted to bring all of you back and start with a clean slate. Whether or not you’ve earned that second chance remains to be seen. But I hope you have.” Her words sent a painful ache through your chest. You didn’t blame her for being wary of you, but it still hurt. 

As she excused herself, you were once again left alone with Bobby. “Y’alright?” He gently asked, cadence low and comforting.

You processed his words for a moment. “Yeah…yeah. I’m okay.”

“You need a minute?”

“No. Let’s just get my stuff to my cabin.”

With a single nod, he grabbed your suitcase and duffel bag, moving to walk up the hill. You followed closely behind, letting the rush of memories ebb through you. The cabins were small, build from dark wood, with green paint detailing the shutters and doors. They looked like they’d received fresh coats of paint, but otherwise, everything was still the same.

It didn’t take long to reach cabin five. Bob carried your things inside, and you slowly followed, your heart quickening as you stepped through the door. The scent of cedar and pine was familiar and painful all at once. 

This wasn’t the cabin you’d been in when you were here last. You were in cabin two then, just one over from this one. Even so, it looked so eerily similar that for a moment, you were transported back to the summer of 1980.

Funnily enough, Bob had been the one to show you to your cabin for the first time that year, too.

“You’ve still got ‘em.”

Your eyes flickered to him, and your brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“The bracelets I made you.”

Oh. You looked down, eyeing your wrist, where the two braided jute bracelets remained, from when he’d made them for you that year. Dyed faintly with berry juice. Fraying at the edges, but still intact. “Um, yeah…I do. Guess I just could never bring myself to take them off.”

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out. You let him gingerly take your wrist into his palm. His fingers brushed against the braided rope, and his touch sent goosebumps across your skin. “After all these years,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would fail him.

All at once, you were floored with an intense wave of emotion, so powerful it nearly drove you to your knees. It hit you out of nowhere, like a gut punch. “Bobby,” you whimpered.

Shocking blue flickered to meet your wide-eyed gaze, and his face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. “Kit.”

You weren’t sure who moved first, but you were in each other’s arms then, holding on tightly, as if the other would float away if you loosened your grip. The sound of soft sobs reached your ears, and you realized that they were coming from you.

“I never should have walked away from you. Never, ever!” You cried against his chest. “I’m sorry!”

“No, shhh,” he soothed, cradling your head against him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”

You pulled back to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s not okay!”

Two large hands came up to hold your face. “It hurt me, alright? I’ll admit that. Broke my heart in two. But I never held it against you, because…because I knew everything you’d been through. I know that summer was the worst time of your life. It made sense to me if you didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I would’ve just been a reminder of everything that happened.”

“But I did want to talk to you, Bobby. I did. I just couldn’t get past the goddamn trauma.”

He shook his head, his face kind. “I know. But we’re here now, together. That’s gotta count for something.” Maybe we’ve been given a second chance, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to move too fast. He was well aware that your romance might never be rekindled. However, he was content to just remain friends with you if it meant that you would be in his life again.

You went quiet, letting your head fall against his chest again. You couldn’t believe you were here, standing in the middle of a cabin at the place where you had lost everything. It felt so surreal. It was as if a million years had passed since you saw him here last, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all. 

There was so much that needed to be discussed. But there was no hurry. For now, you were just relieved to know that you had not burned a bridge with your first great love. If nothing else went right for you this summer, he was the one good thing that would come out of it. 

“I’m glad…I’m glad it was you who picked me up at the station,” you admitted.

Bobby smiled softly. “So am I.” He searched your face, as if memorizing it. “I really thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

You hummed in agreement. “Me too. But I guess fate wanted us to meet again.”

“She’s a tricky one, that Fate.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Finally, he parted from you, though the absence of his body made yours feel cold. He didn’t want to overstep. “Well…I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He moved toward the door, but your voice gave him pause.

“Actually, wait for me. I don’t want to face everyone alone. I’d prefer it if we walked together.” Bobby might be the only person in this damn place to accept you again. You wanted to cling to that, and the security it provided.

He gave a single nod. “Alright. You want any help getting settled, then?”

Together, you set about getting everything situated. Bob went around and checked the cabin for spiders, because he knew you weren’t a fan of the little (and sometimes big) guys. He found one, which he very gently coaxed into his hand (murmuring “c’mon, little buddy” as he did) and released it outside. 

Once you had your stuff organized, and did a quick clean sweep of the cabin, you were ready to join everyone else. There was a paper posted on the wall just beside the door, detailing the itinerary for counselors and other camp staff. In about fifteen minutes, dinner would be served in the mess hall. 

Directly following that, there would be an orientation meeting in the meeting hall, a place where staff meetings usually took place. Assemblies with the campers were also held there. It ws in that hall that you would be forced to face people from your past. Namely, you’d have to face Jake again. 

The thought made your stomach churn, and your hands tremble. But then, Bob’s gentle presence brought you back to the presence, and your racing heart calmed down a little. 

He offered you a kind smile. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

Together, you walked out of that cabin and into the camp grounds, falling into silence as your steps synced up. There were so many things Bobby wanted to say, but he didn’t want to inundate you with questions and confessions, so he left it. He knew you had to be terribly overwhelmed as it was. He didn’t want to be the cause of more stress.

So, silence it was, all the way until you got to the mess hall. He stopped to open the door for you, and you hesitated. 

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

You liked the sound of that. 

So, with a deep breath and squared shoulders, you stepped through that door, entering the room. Dark wood stretched out before you. The mess hall was a similar design to the cabins, just much bigger. High ceilings with unfinished wooden beams. Wooden floors and walls. Dark green paint detailing. Windows on each wall to let in natural light. A large stone fireplace in the middle of the room. 

It was very cozy, but as your gaze shifted to the table of faces to your left, you felt a chill run over you. Here goes nothing.

You appraoched the table, taking in each person seated there. At the head of the table was Pete Mitchell, Penny’s husband. He lifted his head and offered a smile, but you couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. Beside him, Penny glanced up at you.

Then, to her right, you saw Natasha Trace. Another person you had once had a connection with. She was good friends with Bobby before you met him. The two of them had gone to school, and eventually college, together. Beside her was a woman you’d never seen before, but judging by the way Natasha held her hand, you inferred that they were in a relationship. It was no surprise to you. Nat had always made it clear that she only had eyes for women.

Then, on the other side of the woman was Mickey Garcia, another one of Bob’s good friends. His best friend, in fact. Mickey offered you a smile, and you took that as acceptance of you. He always had been rooting for you, all those summers ago.

Beside Mickey was Javy Machado. You couldn’t get a read on him. His face bore a neutral expression as he regarded you. Back then, he’d been best friends with Jake, and had therefore been completely on his side. You assumed the sentiment was still the same. 

Then, of course, there was Bradley Bradshaw. He was Pete and Penny’s surrogate son, in a way. After Bradley’s mother died when he was a teenager, Pete had brought him on to learn how to run the camp. One day, he would take charge of the place, after the husband and wife duo retired.

All of them were seated around that table, but you noticed that one was missing. You had no idea where Jake was. Maybe he wasn’t joining everyone for dinner. Maybe he’d left. A part of you hoped so.

“Wanna sit here?” Bobby asked, motioning to two seats next to Bradley. 

You nodded, and he pulled out your chair for you. Once you were seated, he took his own seat beside you, between Bradley and you. The other man leaned over the table, and you got a look at his face for the first time in six years. He’d lost his baby face, and was now sporting a defined jaw. A neatly kept mustache shadowed his upper lip. You thought it suited him. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Bradley’s statement seemed to break the ice, and a few murmurs of greeting echoed around the table. Even still, an air of awkwardness hovered over the group. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin. But you were here now, and there was no turning back. 

The food was set up around the table like a regular family dinner. Simple foods. Sandwiches. Veggies and dip. Chips. You grabbed a sandwich, but you found your stomach in knots, and the thought of eating anything nauseated you. 

“Well, Penny, you did it. Got us all to come back. Good on you,” Natasha spoke up.

Penny shrugged. “Pete and I have been talking about it for a while. I know the way things ended back in ‘80 was…bad, to say the least. But we really feel that this place has potential, and we could breathe new life into it.”

“What do the Seresins think about that?” Javy asked, his brow raised.

“We think it’s an okay idea,” a voice spoke up from across the room. 

The group looked up all at once to see the man stepping through the door. You tensed, taking in a breath. Your heart rate picked up, thudding against your chest as the chill of anxiety crawled along your spine. 

“Really?” Natasha piped up.

Jake nodded as he approached the group. “Yeah. Seeing as how Penny wants to dedicate this place to Missy. We all remember how much she loved it here. I firmly believe she’d want it to keep going.”

Penny smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jake.”

He stopped at the empty end of the table, hands coming up to rest upon the back of the chair there. “But I do have one question.” 

“What’s that?” The woman asked.

Jake smiled, but you could tell is wasn’t a real smile. In fact, when you looked at his eyes, the pale green was filled with snake’s venom. “What the fuck is she doing here?” He jabbed his finger in your direction, and you froze, your eyes growing wide.

That was more like the reaction you’d been expecting. 

Penny faltered, her smile fading. Beside you, you felt Bob stiffen. But you didn’t dare pull your eyes away from Jake’s accusatory glare. 

“I-I just thought that–”

“I don’t care. Look, Penny; I really appreciate you putting this all together, but in what world did you think it was okay to invite the person who had a hand in my sister’s disappearance?”

“She isn’t the one who wanted to invite her. I am.” Pete stood from his seat, his eyes narrow. “I thought that she deserved a second chance. And I wanted you to find it in yourself to allow her that chance.”

“Oh, really? What, is she gonna bring my sister back? Hm?” Jake’s gaze was so cold. You wished the ground would swallow you up. How on earth could you have thought this was a good idea?

“No, but–”

“If she stays, I’m refusing the dedication. She’s the reason I lost Missy. She doesn’t get to just stand there and pretend she’s sorry, while my parents and I are still grieving.”

Your eyes had blurred with tears, and your chest was tight. You should never have come. 

But then, “leave ‘er alone, Jake.” Bobby stood up, facing the other man. 

“Oh, you coming to her rescue is rich, Baby on Board. Wasn’t it your dick she was sucking when my kid sister went missing?”

The room went dead silent.

Bob took a breath. Then two. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s here, whether you like it or not. And she deserves another chance, just as much as anybody.”

“No, you know what? You’re right. This was a mistake. I should never have come,” you spoke up, rising from your chair.

But Bobby grabbed your arm. “No. Don’t let him drive you away.” His eyes were pleading.

You pulled away from his grasp, sadly shaking your head. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you turned to Jake. “I wish I could bring your sister back. But I can’t. You need to know that I cared about her. And I should have been more thorough when I did bed check that night. I regret it every day, and I’ve lived with that guilt for the last six years. But my guilt is nothing compared to the loss you and your parents have had to endure. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll leave, if that’s what you’d prefer. I never should have come in the first place.”

With that, you ducked your head, pushing your chair out of the way as you scrambled toward the exit. You could hear Bob calling your name, but you ignored him, your legs carrying you quickly toward the door. Your vision had tunneled, and your chest was heavy. You had to get out of that building. You felt like you were suffocating. Like someone had pulled a plastic bag over your face.

You threw your arms out in front of you and shoved the door open, letting out a great heaving sob as you stumbled down the front steps. You made it a few feet from the stairs before you leaned forward, hands braced on your knees as you fell apart.

“Oh, God!” You cried. You heard footsteps quickly approaching. It made you whirl around. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” Came your wail.

“No! I don’t care what he says, you deserve to be here!” 

It was Bob, you realized. 

“What do you want me to do, then?! He doesn’t want me here, Bob! And I never should’ve come. So just…just pull the truck around and I’ll get my luggage and get the fuck out of here.”

“No.”

“Either you take me back to the station, or I’ll get someone else to do it!”

“No other buses are running until tomorrow morning, so you can’t leave anyway! You’re stuck here for the night.”

“Goddammit!” You yelled. “I just want to leave!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders. “You’re not listening to me! I can’t handle watching you walk away from me again. I lost you once, and I’ll be damned if I let Jake Seresin be the reason I lose you again!”

And then, silence.

“Oh.” 

He released your shoulders suddenly, his face stricken. “I-I’m sorry. I’m coming on way too strong. This is probably super overwhelming for you and I’m just making it worse.”

“No. No, you…you aren’t.” A pause. And then, “I don’t want to walk away from you again, either.”

“If you want to leave, then I’ll take you to the station tomorrow morning. But I just want you to try and stay. I know Jake doesn’t want you here, but I’m sure Pete can convince him to at least give you a chance.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

However, back inside the mess hall, a discussion was happening. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know we should have told you we invited her back. I take full responsibility for that oversight. But your parents…they knew she was coming. We checked with them beforehand. Your mom is of the belief that we should give her another chance.”

“What?” Jake asked, incredulous. 

“Yeah. So, I know it’s hard for you, but if your mom is willing to forgive, then I’m going to respect that, and give this girl a chance. You know she’s lived with this guilt for so long. I think that’s punishment enough.”

The blonde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. If it was up to me, she’d be on the next Greyhound outta here. But if my mom wants her here…” He looked out the window, eyeing you and Bob as you spoke to each other. “It boggles my damn mind, but I’ll respect my mom’s wishes. That doesn’t mean I forgive her, though. I don’t think I ever will. But you go ahead and keep her on staff. Something tells me it ain’t gonna end well, but what do I know?”

And with that, Jake stalked off in a huff. 

He swung the screen door open, and your head shot up, your eyes widening as you saw him coming down the steps. Bobby took a protective step toward you. 

“You can stay,” Jake said as he walked past. “But only because my mom is the one who wanted you here.” Then he leaned in close. Well, as close as Bob would allow him to get. “But just know this. If you fuck up in any way, shape, or form, I’ll ship you back home myself. We clear?”

“Y-yes,” you responded with a curt nod. 

“Good.” 

And with that, Jake Seresin walked away.

You let out an unsteady breath, your shoulders slumping. Bobby looked at you, his gaze questioning. “What are you gonna do?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t need to decide now. Just sleep on it. Make your decision with a fresh mind, alright?”

“Yeah,” came your whispered reply. “Yeah, that’s–that’s what I’ll do.”

He took his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you. Do ya wanna just turn in early? I’m sure they’d understand if you skipped orientation.”

You considered his words, and finally, you shook your head. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to go, and see how I do. But I think I’m going to just go and lay down for a while until then.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“I’d like that.”

With a soft smile and a nod, Bobby began to guide you back toward the cabins. Your hands were shaking, and your head was spinning. It felt like someone had shoved their hands into your chest and taken hold of your lungs, squeezing them with all their might. 

It was a painfully uncomfortable feeling, and you hoped that it would pass soon. But as long as you were here, in this place that held so many memories, it would probably remain a permanent fixture in your body. The only thing that soothed it was Bobby’s presence.

Even after all these years, and after the sour note you’d left him on, being near him still felt so comforting and peaceful. It was an odd, but welcome, sensation. You hadn’t expected it to be this way. When you thought of seeing him again, you imagined it would be painfully awkward, or that maybe he would refuse to speak to you. 

But this was Robert Floyd you were talking about. He didn’t hold grudges. And if he did, then he’d been deeply hurt beyond repair. It was a relief to know that things were not beyond mending between you. At the moment, you were too overwhelmed and emotional to even consider what it might mean for you in the future. You were just grateful that he was near you again.

So much had changed. When you’d left him, he’d been more gangly. Twenty-two years old. Large wireframes perched atop his nose. All round cheeks and softer features. Now, he seemed a little taller. Or maybe, his slight bulk made him appear so. Gone were those gangly limbs, replaced with muscle that had been defined by physical labor. 

His hands, though. His hands had stayed the same. They’d always been big, but he’d grown into them. They suited him now. Strong and steady. Farmer’s hands. 

“You want me to come get you when it’s time for orientation?” The low cadence of his voice jarred you from your daydream.

“If you would? I forgot to pack my battery alarm clock, so have no way of keeping time.”

He nodded. “Sure. I can get ya one of those clocks. I actually have two, you can have one of mine.”

“You sure?”

“Yep, I don’t need two anyway. I’ll bring it to you later tonight.”

You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Together, you stopped just outside your cabin, lingering at the foot of the stairs. Bob’s face was gentle, his eyes kind. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s a for you lot to be back here. And Jake didn’t help anythin’ by reacting the way he did. But if no one else is happy to see you, I want you to know that I am. I’ll respect whatever decision you make, but I really do hope you’ll stay.”

You considered his words, mulling them over in your mind. He didn’t expect you to decide at that very moment, and you knew your brain was too overworked to make that decision then as it was. So, the best you could do was nod your head. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bobby.”

He hummed, mouth quirking into a smile. “See you in a bit, Kit.”

You watched him walk away, his footsteps sure, his stance confident. He had a swagger to him that he didn’t have six years ago. It suited him well. 

With a soft sigh, you finally turned and made your way into the cabin. As soon as the screen slammed behind you, you surged forward, collapsing into your bed, which was right near the door. Immediately, you buried your face in the pillow, and everything you’d been keeping inside came spilling out of you in bitter waves.

What had you gotten yourself into?

to be continued...

-

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[late-to-the-party-81]

here’s a little challenge for you: steve + bucky + reader + one bed. make what you want of it hehe 😇 congrats on 1k, jen! <3

In the middle of the night

AN: Another day, and once again, beds appear to be in short supply. Thank you for this thot, Lyn!

Beta’d by @lfnr-blog-blog-blog, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me

Main Master list | Challenge Master list

Summary: What’s worse than sharing a motel room with the supersoldier boyfriends you have a crush on? Having to share a bed with them.

Relationship: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Smidge Angst, Minor miscommunication, pining, teasing, implied smut about to commence.

“Guys, I’ll just take the sofa. I’ll manage.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince them or yourself. It didn’t work though; Bucky just looked at you with his eyebrow raised.

“Really,doll? You might be shorter than us, but you’re not that short.”

He was right, of course. At 5ft 10 you were far too tall for most sofas let alone the one in the room of this ratty motel. 

“What do you suggest then? That we all sleep in that?” You nodded your head at it. It being the king sized bed in the middle of the room.

Steve looked up from where he was rummaging through his go bag.

“Seems like the only sensible option to me. Normally we’d offer to sleep on the floor, but…” He eyed what passed for a carpet in the room. You had to agree with him. The chances were that anything placed upon it for any length of time would be carried off by the roaches that were probably living in it. You shuddered at the thought and repressed a gag.

“Well as long as you two keep the mushy stuff to a minimum, I suppose. It’s bad enough when I’ve shared a room with you both before and you’re being all cuddly and shit. Makes a single girl sick.” This time your gag was for comedic effect.

Bucky grinned at you, and in two strides was next to you, arm slung around your shoulder, giving you a slight squeeze.

“Are you just jealous in general, or jealous of one of us, specifically. Wouldn’t blame you; we are both hot.”

“You wish!” You pulled a face and shoved him away. “Now go get a shower, Barnes. You smell of swamp.”

He pouted back, but his light blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Me! What about Stevie! And you, doll. We all fell in that water.”

“Yeah, but you’ve still got swamp weed in your hair.”

You reached up and plucked the offending piece of flora from his chestnut locks then, feeling impish, threw it at Steve. It landed on his shoulder, but he just turned on ‘the Captain glare’ as you and Bucky started giggling like children.

An hour later you were finishing off in the small, and frankly disgusting, bathroom. 

Bucky had used it first, scurrying in to escape Steve’s overdramatic ire and you had gone in search of food. When you got back Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his sweats and rubbing his hair dry with a threadbare towel. You threw bags full of food for your two enhanced teammates onto the coffee table.

“Cap in the shower?”

“Yeah - he won’t be too long. I’ve known that guy to have a full shower in less than 2 minutes. And after all these years, I’m still not sure how he does it.”

True to Bucky’s, Steve had stepped out just then, clad in his own sweats, short blond hair sticking up from where he’d given it a quick scrub. Gathering your own wash things and clean clothes to sleep in, you’d slipped around him, trying to ignore the loving look Bucky was throwing at his boyfriend.

Luckily there was enough hot water left for you. The boys wouldn’t have heard the end of it otherwise.

Returning to the bedroom, you mentally prepared yourself for an awful night’s sleep.It was bad enough that you were, once again, sharing a room with two men you had massive crushes on - who only had eyes for each other, this time you’d also be squished on the same bed, no doubt clinging onto the edge of the mattress and trying not to fall out.

The two supersoldiers were already lying in the bed, eyes closed, Bucky being the little spoon to Steve’s big one. They were scootched over so far that you were worried that Steve was about to drop off his side. Gingerly you climbed into the remaining space, your back to Bucky, and you switched off the small lamp they’d left on for you.

Moonlight shone through the thin curtains, casting weak shadows. You tried to relax but found yourself just staring at the strange shapes thrown on the wall in front of you. You could hear both of them breathing. 

Slow. 

Steady. 

Completely fake.

Bucky shifted behind your back, his arm brushing over your ass and hip. If he had been asleep you could have believed it to be accidental. It settled across your waist, a copy of how you imagined Steve’s was lying over his.

“Um…Buck?” You whispered out of habit. “What are you doing?”

“‘S not a lot of space, doll. We need to cosy up, so you and Stevie don’t fall out.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“He’s also like a radiator, sweetheart. And we’ve noticed you don’t like to get cold. Just go with it.” Great. Now Steve was joining in.

“It just feels… you know… weird.” Something about the darkness was making you feel braver than you had in a while. Although that bravery started to wane slightly when Bucky shuffled even closer and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

“Whaddya mean ‘weird’? I think it feels nice.”

You flipped over to face him, despite the fact that there was so little light it made the gesture pointless. You were getting frustrated. Both emotionally and sexually.

“Bucky. Your boyfriend is right there, cuddling you, but apparently cuddling me is nice. And for some reason Steve is fine with it.”

The shadows behind Bucky shifted; Steve lifting his head.

“Wanna know why I’m fine with it?”

“Cos you’re secure in your and Bucky’s relationship, and you know this is just practical?”

He chuckled, low and deep, and boy did the sound do things to you. Oh, god! How keen were his senses? Would he be able to smell your arousal?

“Well, yes, but also, no…”

Before you could question him, Bucky’s arm tightened around your waist and suddenly he flipped you both, placing you in the middle of the bed, wedged between him and Steve. Your hands were pressed up against Steve’s chest, his coarse chest hairs tickling your palms. Bucky’s hand was splayed against your stomach, keeping you in place, pressed against him.

“What the hell?”

“We realised something, doll.” Bucky was practically purring in your ear. His hips pressed up against your ass and…oh!

“W-what’s that?” You could barely breathe, frozen rigid in the bed, afraid to move.

Steve wiggled down the bed in front of you, so that your hands were on his shoulders and both your faces were level.

“That you aren’t jealous of either of us when Buck and I are being affectionate. You’re jealous of both of us. You’ve got the hots for both of us.”

You scowled, hoping that despite the low light he could see your annoyance.

“So, what? You decided you’d both tease me. Thanks so much.” You shuffled violently and sat up, kicking off the last part of the coverlet. You pushed up on your knees, but Steve copied you, effectively blocking you.

“We’re not teasing you, sweetheart. Let me finish. Please.”

The bed dipped behind you; Bucky getting to his knees too. Your head was a swirl of emotions. Confusion, want, frustration, and something that might have been hope. Steve took hold of your hands, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of your knuckles.

“We’re trying to tell you… we’ve got the hots for you too.”

“Majorly,” Bucky interjected. “It’s been torture these last few months. Fighting beside you. Sharing a room. You, being so close, but not attainable.” You could feel the heat radiating off him and all you wanted to do was relax back onto his firm chest. And you wanted to believe what they were apparently telling you.

Steve tugged on your hands, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t begin to imagine how Buck and I have been when we’ve got back to our apartment at the compound after missions with you. How we’ve been so wound up, so goddamn horny thinking about you. Thank goodness for sound-proofing. I think we’ve fucked each other seven ways from Sunday everytime.”

Bucky had moved again; regained his previous spot plastered against your back. Both his hands were settled on your waist, just above your hips. He dipped his head, and his hair brushed your neck before his lips settled just below your ear. Testing you.

“Do you want us, doll?” His lips trailed down your neck and you tilted it to bare your throat to him. Your busy mind had cleared. Now only the want remained. Bucky and Steve were pressed against you in the moonlight, surrounding you with their scent and promising you pleasure. All you had to do was answer.

“Yes!”

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