The Booz Post

One Shot - 2,700 words

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: A little heartbreaky. A little sweet. A lightly funny. Fluffy. My usual.

Notes: This is just for fun. I know nothing of the private life of Mr. Evans, so take with a grain of salt. This is a little self indulgent as the reader is tall, but it’s only mentioned like twice. No use of Y/N. Enjoy my lovelies. 

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated but never expected. They do keep me fueled though. 

**

It was ridiculous. Utterly and completely ridiculous. Chris was being a butthead. Plain and simple.

He was the best person you knew but, also the most aggravating person you knew. And he was pissed at you. Not the kind of pissed where it’s forgiven in a day over a beer. No, he wasn’t speaking to you and frankly you didn’t care.

Okay, you did care. But you were pissed at him too. If he hadn’t of asked for your opinion several of times, you wouldn’t have been forced to tell him the truth. He knew better than to ask you five times in one night what you thought about Amelia, especially when you had been drinking.

Amelia was an airhead. She thought too highly of herself and it wasn’t warranted. She didn’t deserve Chris and that’s exactly what you told him. Yes, it was blunt, but he asked you five times. Five. You could only lie so much. And why did he care so much about your damn opinion anyway?

Was your crush on Chris part of the reason for not liking Amelia? No. She really wasn’t a great person and, in your defense, your crush on Chris was new.

July 4th, 1918

Summary: Bucky can't seem to let go

Pairing: Bucky x reader

A/n: Oh look. I've come out of my once a year slumber to grace you with my undeserving presence and I will leave you with the tasty angst. It will be a one-shot, I'm sorry. Don't hate me too much.

"Come over." The two words that light up your phone, briefly illuminating your dark bedroom at one o'clock in the morning. You had spent the past few hours tossing and turning. You just couldn't seem to shut your brain off and apparently neither could he.

He always seemed to know when you were having a hard time sleeping. He also knew exactly why you needed. A way to relax.

The only problem was that you both agreed to not keep doing this. Things weren't easy when you were together, almost toxic really.

Constant screaming matches that would always lead to tears and clothes being tossed around the apartment. To him moving agonizingly slow inside of you. Him whispering his love and apologies in your ear while you whimpered and moved to meet his thrusts just the way he liked. Accepting the affection while it lasts, knowing it would happen again.

When things finally ended with you packing your things and leaving the spare key on the counter, you swore to never allow yourself to be caught up in his game of push and pull again.

You were devastated to leave him, but knew it was the only way things would change. He made it so difficult to stay away though. One text or call and one of you would be at the other's door.

Your friends always questioned why you kept crawling back to him and no matter how much explaining you tried to do, they just wouldn't leave it alone. You would go on the dates they would arrange for you, but you always found yourself in his bed after the guys would drop you off.

You laid in bed a few more minutes trying to decide if you should ignore him or give in the slight tug behind your navel. You had just thrown your covers off of you, when your phone began to ring. Without looking at the Caller ID, you answer.

"Hello?"

"I was worried you were actually asleep for once." His rough voice making your insides melt.

You release a slight chuckle. "No I was just debating if this was a good idea."

"It's always a good idea." You could hear the smile in his voice.

You sigh. "Is it though? We're supposed to be moving on, Buck. How am I supposed to move on when you won't let me?"

"Who says I want you to move on?"

"I don't know. The gazillion fights we've had. The constant screaming at each other. The constant tears I've shed. I can keep going. We're not good for each other."

He's quiet for a moment. You can tell he's going through the memories of you two together. "That doesn't mean we're good for anyone else."

"You don't know that, James."

"Yes, I do. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were it for me. No matter what we've gone through. You're still the one I want in my arms at the end of the day."

"The only thing we're good at together, is fucking each other and you know that's not good enough."

"That doesn't mean I want you to move on. I will never stop loving you."

You heart clenches. "Maybe you should."

He pauses. "Do you want me to?"

Your breath catches in your throat. It wasn't all bad. Aside from the sex, you two were capable of laughing and being completely in love. You remember how he would hold you close when you were out with your friends. How he would come up behind you when you were cooking and just wrap himself around you. How he would take you to your favorite meadow and you would sprawl out on a blanket, while he would just look at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him.

How he would tuck your hair behind your ears and kiss you so gently that you felt like you would float away. How he would hum his favorite songs while he got ready for work and you laid in bed watching him. His ice blue eyes, taking in every inch of you when you would sit on the couch reading.

"No I don't." You whisper.

"Then get your ass over here and let me show you just how much I love you."

Tears prick your eyes. "I don't think I should, Bucky."

"Come on, babe." He pleads gently. "I love you so much. Things can be so different this time. I can stop hurting you."

"You say this every time. How do I know that things won't be the same?"

"You have to trust me. The only way to know is for me to prove it to you." You can hear the desperation growing inside of him.

You shake your head. "I don't know, Buck."

"Then let me come to you." He begs. "Please, Y/N."

This is heartbreakingly sweet. That knowing what you should want and need but not wanting to give up what’s familiar ilar. “Tug behind your navel.” What a great expression!