lovelyhavenn

[You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye and I got that red lip classic thing that you like]

It's late, late for anyone to be still up in the compound. You're leaning against bthe railing, seeing how new york glows from your view, the city lights and the streets are busy, full of life, but you weren't. You lit a cigarette, the one you promised to stop smoking, but you relapsed, you kept going back and doing things that aren't healthy, but it feels good to stop. It's not about the cigarette anymore, it's about him and this cycle of hello and goodbyes.

He hates it, he hated the way you smoke, he hates the smell, he hates how its a guilty pleasure of yours. But you can say the same for him, he's a guilty pleasure that you keep coming back for more even if he never stays.

He's not here to witness you smoking. Or maybe he is.

You can hear his boots clashing against the floor, and when you turn, you immediately noticed how good he looks, that damn blue eyes, his messy hair and his leather jacket. He looks at you with a smile, a smile that you hate and love at the same time.

"That red lipstick is going to be the death of me," He says with his voice being rough, something more than teasing.

You scoff, slow. “Didn’t know you still liked it.”

His gaze falls into your oversize shirt, how it falls in your shoulder, showing your bare skin and collarbone. You always smelled trouble for him, your captivating eyes, your pouty red lips, the way you present yourself, it's trouble written all over it.

"I never stopped liking it, sweetheart." He says with a smile. You started walking closer to him, the wind making your hair flow, his perfume going through your system.

"Then why do you always leave?" You ask, it's a question you kept asking him, and he never answers it. Never tells you why. He held your hand, brushing his thumb on your palm. The silence was too loud, too full.

“You always show up when I start forgetting,” you whisper.

“I don’t want you to forget,” he says, like it’s a confession. That's the problem. He keeps leaving but he keeps knocking on your door and you open it wode enough for him. You never learn, you never stopped, because you want more. More from him, and he can never give it. But you didn't care, that's the whole problem.

You're all red lips and white lies, lying to yourself that it doesn't hurt, that he always comes back and maybe stay, but he doesn't. While he's all memory, going back to you just so you wouldn't forget about him, knowing his effect on you he keeps coming to you and it's driving you to madness.

[And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style]

It's always like this, late at night, maybe past midnight when the world is too tired to warn you, to tell you to never open the door. You heard one knock and you immediately knew who it was.

Bucky.

And you let him in, not even a bit of hesitation, or question, you let him in. Your tired eyes met his eyes, like he didn't leave, like he wasn't gone after showing up in that damn rooftop. Somewhere in your chest aches, you know where this is going, you know better than anyone else.

Bucky has his hands on his pocket, looking guilty with a bit of longing in his eyes. "Y/n..." And he says your name like it's a prayer, like a chant, like it's melody. That's all it takes for you to. Fold, to twist in this sick game of white lies and madness.

You let him in again, not just in your door, but in your life. Just when you're trying to forget, he enters. And when you finally want him again, he leaves.

He walks in your apartment, like he knows every bit of it like his body remembers it. How can he not? His presence was always in your room, kissing in your bed, watching a movie in your living room, cuddling on the couch, him hugging you by the kitchen counter while you make your coffee, fighting beside the window, showeing together, everything.

His hand stayed on yours for a little more than ten seconds when you hand him water, feeling your hand against his like it's what keeps him grounded. It's almost enough, almost a successful attempt in making you feel like this will be different. Like this would last. It doesnt, you know it all to well.

"Missed you, sweetheart. So damn much... " He kisses you like it's muscle memory, like it's driven by regret and he's making it up to you. Kissing you like there's no tomorrow, maybe there isn't one for you two, he kisses you like he's making up for the times he left you hanging, wanting more than this cycle. You closed your eyes, kissing him back with the same intensity, pretending that this will last and you don't know how it ends.

You know how this ends, it's you two tangled up in your sheets. Whispering each other's name like it's all you know, like he won't leave, intertwining your hand with his while he's thrusting deep inside you, kissing your lips while you moan in his mouth. Like it means something for him. It probably does and that reason, that meaning will only last for a couple of days, or a couple of hours.

You’ve done this before. Too many times. No matter how much he praises you, telling you he won't leave again while making you feel so damn good, he always does. He leaves without a trace, without warning, and without a goddamn care.

And you'll always be here, watching him leave with your lipstick faded and Pillow cold.

The sound of the door closing is like a silent whisper of "i could never stay" For him. He leaves you breathless, he appears in a couple of days, weeks, or even months. He's never sorry. This thing between you, it never goes out of style. It hurts, but it never goes out of style.

[I say, "I heard, oh That you've been out and about with some other girl, Some other girl"]

You're here with nat, trying to have fun in a bar. But when you entered, you saw him with another girl. He's out with another girl after telling you how much he missed you.

Funny thing is the girl looks like you, the same red lipstick, same style, same hair, same eyes... Everything. But there's a difference, he never takes you out for dancing, never twirls you around in your tight little skirt. He looks at her like he's certain he won't leave while he looks at you like he's always ready to leave.

You dragged natasha out of the bar, and you crashed in her apartment. You sat on the floor, leaning against the kitchen drawer while holding a can of beer, legs pulled up like you're trying to fold yourself, feeling small. Natasha's words are the only thing that you can hear, despite how loud the city is, the buzzing cars, the night being young.

"You have to stop this, y/n. He's hurting you, and you're letting him." Nat say, her voice calm but edged. Like she can feel how hurt you are with whatever is happening with you and bucky, like she knows damn well that it's a spiral of pain you're going through, that it's hard to let go. She's tired of watching you break over the same man.

You don’t answer right away. You simple played with your beer, avoiding her eyes, trying to keep your voice still but it cracks and natasha heard it. "He's with another girl."

Nat looks at you. “He was, we both saw it. ” that feels like a shot through your heart, you told yourself that you don't care, he can date whoever he wants or he can dance with whoever he wants but it hits hard, and you hate it.

"She looks like me, the way he said that he liked my red lipstick, my hair, my eyes, me... She looks like me." You whisper, laughing painfully.

"That's not a coincidence. He knows what he's doing. He knows how to play this damn game." She snaps, angry at how bucky treats you.

You blink hard, the burn of whatever he's doing to you still hurts. "He will come back again... He always does."

“Yeah, but for how long?"

"Short enough to make me feel like it's finally going somewhere, and long enough for to make me forget how he leaves me over and over again. " You sighed, crying softly. Nat scoots over, taking you in her arms while you sob.

"You know that this isn't love, right?" You laughed at her, broken, while tears kept falling.

"It feels like it for a moment, and it's a nightmare for the next." You chuckled, drinking your beer.

"It's not love, it's familiarity. You got used to him, but it's not love." You don't reply, just sobbing in Natasha's arms. It feels stupid how you think of him but he's busy with another girl at this very moment.

Nat watches you closely, softly now. “You deserve more than this, you know that.”

You nod. You always nod.

You always agree to nat saying that you deserve better, you do agree with your whole heart. But when he comes knocking down your door, when the guilt starts to haunt him, you'll open the doors for him, your arms for him.

The cycle is not done. He never really lets you go, you don't want him to. But you know, even when he's with you, he's never fully with you.

[He says, "What you've heard is true, but I Can't stop thinking about you and I. I said, "I've been there too a few times"]

You arrived home from nat, you saw a figure outside your apartment. You know that built, you know that hair, that leather jacket. Bucky's outside your apartment, maybe the guilt kicked in. And when he saw you, he walked fast to you, pulling you for a hug. He smells the beer lingering in your skin, the cigarettes too.

"I heard you were with someone... " You said it while he's hugging you, like you heard it from somewhere. But he doesn't know how you saw it with your own eyes, he's with a girl who looks like you.

"It's true... " He answered, he doesn't flinch, and he didn't try to lie. There was a long silence, and that silence hurts.

When he pulled back, he held your shoulders, maybe holding you down so you wouldn't leave him. That's funny. "I can't stop thinking about us, about you." He said, pleading.

Your lips parted, and he's looking at your red lips. There it is again, he says he can't forget you or that he's thinking about you, but he never is, it's the guilt talking.

"It's impossible for me to not think about you, sweetheart." He says, you're not supposed to believe, this is the style, sweet words to let him in again. But you never learn.

"I've...tried to get with other people, to be in their arms. But no one's like you." He confessed, you bit the inside of your cheeks. He was literally with someone who looks like you, even laughs like you, he looked happy, and now... He's here. A liar.

You laugh softly, bitter and tired. “We’re sick, you know that?”

“I know. But i don't want anyone else, sweetheart.” you're a liar, bucky. A damn liar.

"You always leave me bleeding...waiting." You whispered with a strained voice.

"I do... I'm sorry, sweetheart." He whispers back, hand pressed on your cheek. His lie cuts deeper than any lie ever could. You stepped back, walking towards your door, opening it again for him. You let him in, again.

He doesn't kiss you immediately. He just kept saying how much he missed you, how much you mean to him. He's saying sorry for the way he leaves you bleeding, that he leaves you without warning. But, he'll do it again. He'll apologize and do it again the next day.

You don't talk about the girl, he doesn't mention the girl to you, afraid of how you'll react that he's with a girl who looks exactly like you. You don't even talk about why he keeps leaving and eventually comes back for a moment.

This isn't love. You get it.

But it never goes out of style.

[You got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt And when we go crashing down, we come back every time]

The team is having a game night in the compound. You were contemplating if you were going, natasha asked you to come but understood if you wouldn't want to come because Bucky's there. It's been months, he left you again, natasha is more than willing to spend time with you in your apartment or in hers.

Despite contemplating, you still decided to go. You wore a white tube top, black skirt and a big leather jacket that you bought, maybe because it reminds you of him.

The moment you arrived in the compound, you saw him, slicked back hair, white shirt and black pants. He saw you too, he saw you again after leaving you without a warning, how that night you were tangled in your sheets and the next you woke up without any trace of him, no text or call, not even a note.

The team hugged you one by one, telling you how much they missed your presence in the compound. You only showed up for missions, for reports, you never stayed because it means you'll see him again, you'll see him with someone maybe. You don't want to find out.

He steps infront of you, like he's good at it, like it's the only thing he knows, showing up infront of you like he didn't leave.

"You look good," he says.

You shrug. "You always say that when you want something."

He grins, smirks. he's treating this like a game, like you're a game he never gets tired of losing, of playing. You watch him, the way his shoulder seems heavy like he's carrying regrets and none of them are regrets from doing this over and over again to you. It doesn't seem like the regret comes from coming back to you, leaving, and again and again until it's a fucking cycle.

He grins, like you're a game he never gets tired of losing.

“You still mad?” he asks. Who wouldn't be mad. Who wouldn't be fucking mad, he's treating you like he can always come back to you. You're not mad at him, you're mad at yourself for letting it happen each time. You could've pushed him away, but you didn't, you couldn't. That's messed up.

You raise a brow. “Which time?”

He laughs, but it doesn't reach his eyes the same way when he danced with that girl. "I don't want to hurt you." He says. He's been hurting you over and over again and suddenly he doesn't want that now. Did he grew tired of piercing daggers in your heart, when you kept forgiving him, he also kept leaving with his words and promises.

“No,” you say slowly. “you always did.” He looks away. Because you’re right.

And still he found courage to reach for you, the way his skin brushed over you made you forget you're mad. Because the truth is, you're in this cycle too. It hasn't stopped yet, it's still going. He keeps apologizing, and you're a dumb girl in a tight little skirt and red lipstick that prays that he finally means it. But it won't end like you hope it would because it would come crashing down, it always does.

He'll hold you like he means it. You'll let him like he's yours, he's not. And that's how you break. And later, you'll lay in bed in silence like it didn't hurt at all.

[Take me home, Just take me home. Yeah, just take me home]

You're both in his room, the way you whispered in his ear during game night to take you home, and he did. He took you in his apartment, clothes thrown everyone. Hands on each other, desperate and eager.

His lips on your body, your lips, your jaw, down to your neck. Kissing it like he missed you, like he's telling you that he loves you. Your red lipstick all over his body, his face, his chest, his shoulders, his cock.

The way you moan his name, like it's the last time. The way he thrust deep in you, exploring every bit of your hole because he wasn't able to do it for the past months when he left you. The way he groans, he pants, telling you how good of a girl you are for him, taking him so good, so well.

How he hugs your body, how you clung onto him while he spreads your legs to go in deeper, to burry himself in you deeeper. With every thrust, it's your name he whispers. His body glued to you, your breasts on his chest, tugging on his hair while he says your name along with a broken moan.

He looks at you like he knows how heavy the weight of whatever is happening in this cycle. The exhaustion of push and pull, the damage that it leaves. The damage he leaves. He kissed your lips tenderly, soft, just taking his time to make you feel good, trying to erase his faults and lies with a kiss. But it doesn't work that way.

You kissed back, tasting his lips like you're trying to remember what it's like when this first started.

"I'll try... " He whispers. That's the saddest part, he'll try but he won't ever say that he wants too. You layed down beside him, he's hugging your body tight, like he's afraid that he will lose you.

But he already did. Multiple times. This just makes it official.

When the weight of his slumber gets the better of him, you slipped off his touch, wore your clothes and left.

You didn't look back. You didn't call or text. You didn't ask him if you could leave. You didn't leave a note. You just left.

You left the way you should've the first time he did.

He left you the first time, and now you're leaving him for the last time. To end this all.

[You should take it as a compliment, That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk. You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong]

The music echoes in the club, flashing neon lights, drunk people dancing to their hearts desire everywhere while they are spilling drinks too. You shined on the dance floor, your frame glowing with the neon lights in the club. You sway your hips to the rhythm of the music, natasha, and wanda drinking and dancing along with you, having the time of your lives.

Wanda used her magic to change the music into a fun one, where all people in the club sing and cheered, bodies bumping at each other while trying to dance and drink at the same time. You're tipsy, just enough to get bold and look at bucky from across the room, in the bar sitting with steve and drinking with his slevees rolled up.

While dancing, you faced him, your every move, the way your hips swayed, your hair bounced or the way you twirled while calling bucky to dance with you. He stood up, leaving steve all alone in the bar, he smiled while making his way to you, trying to walk pass drunk people who are too drunk to care.

"Hey, i see you're enjoying yourself." He whispered, lips almost brushing your ear. He leaned down to talk to you, trying to make his voice audible for you.

You giggled at him, dimples showing. "God, bucky, your voice sound so serious. Always so broody, you sound like a male lead in a romance drama." You hooked your arms in his nape, pulling him close while his arms wrapped itself on your waist, guiding your body to the rhythm of the music.

Bucky chuckled low, raising his brow with a smirk,"that's oddly specific." You laughed with a nose scrunch. Bucky is fucking beautiful, so damn attractive that you hate it that he's not yours.

"If i ever have your voice, i won't shut up!" You giggled, the alcohol kicking in your system, almost stumbling over but bucky held you firmly against him.

"Uh huh, sure you won't." Bucky answered, gaze lingering a lot longer on your lips. The air, your surrounding fizzes over in the background.

[And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us, He's in the club doing, I don't know what. You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much ]

Your arms still around him, all giggly and drunk. "Bucky... " You called, body still swaying from the music that has died down because of his presence, the way that it all disappears in the back because your focus is on him.

"Wanna tell me something, doll?" He asked, smiling because of you, this is one of the nights that bucky smiled too much for his own liking, but he couldn't stop even if it hurt his jaw. His palm on your cheek, while his free hand still holding you just so you wouldn't fall. You shifted your position, holding both his cheeks now, making him face you while you're admiring his face.

“You’re too good looking,” you mutter at him, still holding his cheeks while giggling. Bucky on the other hand is trying his hardest not to smile, but his lips, his heart betrayed because he's smiling like an idiot. “It’s offensive.”

He quirks a brow, smiling like it's his work. “Offensive?”

“Like criminal. Get arrested for being to good looking, how is that possible though? You're like the most good looking guy here dancing with me!" You tried to move, you almost fell but bucky was quick enough to catch you despite smiling so much.

He chuckles, leaning in. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m always drunk around you,” you shoot back. “On purpose. I mean not really, but most of the time."

His grin widens, not really expecting anything but he kept smiling, stupidly grinning like a lovesick teenager. “Why’s that?”

You look up at him, shrugging like it’s no big deal, your eyebrows knit together while you pouted your lips for a moment. “So I can blame it when I say things like... I got a boyfriend.”

Bucky pauses. “You got a what?” he was stunned, not sure if he's supposed to believe you, not letting go because if he did you'd fall on the floor.

You smirk, leaning against him, hooking back your arms in his neck, throwing your head back for a moment because of the music. “Yeah, i have one. He’s older than me. He's always Brooding and is so damn Mysterious, it's hot, really. Looks great in dark colors. You'd hate him, but i don't!" You giggled, eyes shining while bucky looks at you like he doesn't want to take his eyes off you.

He narrows his eyes. “Uh huh. Where is he?"

You glance around the club like you’re searching. Then you turn back to Bucky and shrug, with a pout. " I don't know, somewhere here, probably drunk, but oh he doesn't get drunk! He's probably being all mysterious somewhere, staring at me like really really hard like I'm about to give him a heart attack." You scrunch your nose, tapping his nose out of nowhere.

He blinks, trying to process everything you just said. He looked down, then back to you with the smile that almost died down because of hearing that you have a boyfriend. He grins, smiling, chuckling in disbelief.

“Oh my God,” he whispers softly. “You’re talking about me, doll." He chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You gasped dramatically, " I would never!"

“You absolutely would.”

You're both laughing now, everyone else blurred in the background. The neon lights flashing over your faces, he admired how your drunk flushed face was giving you rosy cheeks. He carefully leans over you, just enough to close the gap but also enough to keep your heart stammer.

"You dream about me being yours, doll?"

You looked at him like you're trying to think. Bucky is finding everything that is happening right now too much for him in a good way, like he wanna stuff you on his pocket and take you home. “Only on Tuesdays, ”you answer, laughing.

“It’s Friday night, or almost Saturday, doll."

“i also think about you on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays! Fuck you, never tired running on my mind everyday." He laughed with your sudden confession, finding it absolutely cute. You tiptoed, like telling him a secret.

“You’re so cool, it makes me hate you,” you whisper. “Just a little.”

He looks down at you, eyes crinkled, voice low. “Good. Because i think you're so cool too, and i think about you all the time."

You’re both grinning.

[You've ruined my life, by not being mine]

You’re both laughing about something neither of you can remember anymore. You hiccup. Walking out of the club like it's so chaotic, laughing over anything and everything.

"You walk so fast, so tall like a skyscraper!" You laughed, you don't even have a hard time catching up to him because he's holding you firmly against his side.

"And you're so short, doll. I kept losing you in a club like a racoon in a hoodie." He slurs back, joking. You looked at him with a pout before talking back again, dramatically.

"racoon!? I don't look like rocket! I mean he's cute... Really is, but I'm don't look like a racoon, bucky. Do i look like rocket? "

"A cute racoon, doll. Like with little hands and a whole lot of attitude." He grins.

You squint. “You’re drunk.” you guys kept stopping, making it a thirty minute trip just to get out of the club. You guys stumbled, laughed, giggled everywhere.

He points at you with his grin, "no. you're drunk. I don't get drunk, doll."

“You’re more drunk.”

“I have the serum in my veins, doll, I'm perfectly fine. Want me to carry you?” he asked, getting ready to carry you on his back.

You giggle, tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. Bucky catches you, pulling you flush against him. Your face is so close to his you can smell the citrusy drink he had earlier. He stares down at you, dazed, still smiling.

“You smell good,” he says suddenly. “Like... Tequila, cotton candy and a whole lot of bad decisions." He bit his lips, stopping himself from smiling again because his jaw hurts. It's aching from constantly smiling the whole night. But he still smiles anyway.

You blink, getting flustered, trying to hide yourself on his chest. “You should stop talking.”

He nods solemnly. “That would be smart.”

But neither of you move, you lifted your head from his chest, faces dangerously close, one move and he's on you. But you laughed, breaking away, getting flustered, red.

"That rosy cheeks of yours is going to be the death of me, doll." He compliments, touching your cheeks with his hands.

"Come on sergeant of sweet talks, we're going to the beach!" You screamed, holding his hand, trying to run to the beach. The club that you went to has a beach front. You stopped running while pulling bucky, you bent over trying to take your heels off, struggling.

"Okay, doll, let me take it off, just relax." He kneeled on the sand, taking the strap of your heels and holding it in his hand.

"Keep doing that and you'll ruin my life by not being mine, bucky-"

“You’re gonna forget you said that tomorrow,” he calls after you, but he’s grinning like a fool.

You walked away from him. “Nope. I’m gonna write it in my diary.”

He jogs to catch up. “no need, I'm going to remind you!"

[You're so gorgeous, I can't say anything to your face. 'Cause look at your face ]

It's way past midnight and here you are and bucky finding yourselves barefoot in the beach, shoes and heels somewhere in the sand, your hearts racing with a reason that you'll never admit out loud.

The moon and lights shined over the ocean, the sound of the waves soothing your drunkness while Bucky's admiring your chaotic figure who is giggling, smiling and laughing for the tiniest reason. He founds that endearing, cute and carefree, wishing that you both can be just this together, no missions, just peace within the two of you.

You dipped your feet on the sea, laughing at how cold it was, gasping while feeling the coldness of the sand in between your toes. You pulled bucky next to you, his pants wet from the water because he forgot to roll his pants up.

“I swear this beach is tilted, like it's not straight or whatever” you huff, clinging onto his arm just so you wouldn't fall.

“It’s not the beach, doll,” he says, raising a brow. “It’s the tequila in your bloodstream.”

You shove him playfully, walking away from him, splashing him with some of the ocean water. He splashed you some too, gentler. The ocean breeze brushes over your hair, making it flow that captivates bucky.

He watches you with that lazy, amused smirk. you finally stopped walking away from him, just standing there and facing him. The silence, the sound of the waves echoes, it finally hits you. He looks perfect under the moonlight, his hair disheveled, his eyes beautifully ocean blue, his top now untucked with his slevees still rolled up showing his arms. He looks at you, lips parted, some hair on his face, dogtags dangling visibly on his chest, and like he's fighting something inside him.

And he looks at you with your blue above the knee dress, the kind of blue that matches his eyes, your hair flowing beautifully in the direction of the wind, your eyes hazel brown that looks perfect under the moonlight and your cheeks, being so rosy with or without the alcohol, it drives him crazy.

And suddenly you're speechless, no giggles, no teasing, no playing, just your heart speaking for you.

He tilts his head, eyes flicking over you. “What?”

You blink. “Nothing.” you managed to let out. He walks closer, just a few steps, and you swear the waves get louder just to match your pulse.

You inhale sharply. “You’re so—” he stops, you freeze, heart thumping crazily.

He raises a brow. “I’m so…?”

You point your finger at his face. “that... "

He squints. “My face?”

"Yes, bucky, that face!" You exclaimed, flustered, stepping back with your palm hiding your face. " t's not fair. You should come with a big warning. Warning, my face is lethal, do not interact unless you want your knees to be weak!"

Bucky laughs, warm and rich. “You’re so drunk.”

“Drunk? I’m practically going insane because of you,” you mumble. “I can’t even look at your face without short-circuiting. I can't even look at you without wishing I'm yours. ”

He bites back a smile. “You mean that, doll? ”

“I HATE how much I like you, bucky. It's crazy, really crazy. You're not the crazy one, it's me. God, i don't even know what I'm saying-”

“You’re really saying all this out loud, huh?”

“I have no filter left. It died back at the club, no wonder I'm fucking blabbering right now.” He steps closer again, soft now. Close enough for you to hear him breathe.

“You think I don’t feel the same way about you?” he says quietly. “You think I haven’t been dying, short-circuiting, watching you all night, in that dress, with that smile, saying things like I’m your boyfriend. I almost died when you said you had a boyfriend, that maybe i lost my shot, but you looked at me, described me, god i wish it wasn't just the alcohol talking."

You stare at him, stunned, barely able to breathe.

“I can’t say anything to your face either,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek.

“Why?” you whisper.

He smiles, heartbreakingly soft. “Because look at your face, doll. You're not exactly the only one going crazy in here, doll. I'm crazy for you, for one year now, I'm much of a coward to admit it. ”

You’re both frozen. The only sound is the ocean. Your racing hearts.

You burst out laughing. “We’re so stupid.

He laughs too. “God, we really are."

[And I'm so furious at you for making me feel this way. But what can I say? You're gorgeous]

You're both walking again, instead of taking a taxi back to the compound, you decided to walk. If you can call it walking, you're running away from bucky while he's chasing you, or walking in a zigzag while bucky is holding you while he also held your heels.

You bump shoulders again with him, for the fifth time.

"You're doing that on purpose, doll." He said, laughing, but he didn't mind.

"Am not!" You argued.

"You are. I can tell, doll."

"I'm furious at you, bucky!" You exclaimed, crossing your arms, almost sending him a heart attack. He held your shoulders gently.

"What did i do, baby?" He asked, softly, gently.

"Made me fall for you." You giggled again, hiding your face.

"Oh-" Bucky's worries washed away, his lips forming a smile.

"Okay, that's enough. I'm going to carry you, doll." He chuckled, you didn't even protest, just opened your arms and he carried you like a bride, your arms around his neck.

"It's actually so rude, babe. Like who the hell gave you permission to walk inside the compound with your pretty little gorgeous face, your attractive arm, your voice that is to die for and you're charming like really charming! immediately making me week on the knees. That's crazy!"

“You think I’m charming?” he says, grinning.

“I think I want to throw my shoe at your face but also maybe hold your hand after. And maybe be yours too. Oh! I'm already yours! God!" You giggled, remembering his confession earlier.

He snorts, completely amused. “You’re drunk. But yeah, I'm all yours."

You gasp. “How dare you?! I’m drunk yeah, but I'm incredibly honest. Don't care, you already said it, no take backs, I'm yours!"

He’s grinning like a fool now, moving closer. “Yes, baby, I'm all yours. All of me, all yours."

“Yeah!” you say, pouting. ” I'm yours, you're mine, the way it should be."

You look up at him, the smallest smile sneaking onto your lips.

“You’re gorgeous.” you smiled, complimenting him again.

Bucky stares at you for a beat, then bursts out laughing. He doubles over slightly, running a hand down his face. “takes one to know one, baby. You're more gorgeous, breath taking."

You grin.

He looks down at you again, cheeks a little pink. “You’re gonna remember this in the morning?”

You pretend to think. “Mm… probably not. But maybe you’ll remind me. But i would never forget that i finally have bucky barnes, all to myself."

He chuckles. “Oh, I will remind you, baby."

[If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her, But if you're single that's honestly worse]

3am and Bucky is still carrying you down the hallway of the compound, he thought you were asleep, letting the tiredness drown your body, but he heard you calling for him.

"Bucky?" You call.

"Yes, doll? Need anything, almost there in your room." He asked, telling you that you're almost there.

"Do you have a girlfriend? I think you do, it's worst if you don't, i have no one to be jealous at. " You asked, half asleep, you honestly don't know what you're saying anymore, bucky just chuckled.

"Yes, doll. I do."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she's half asleep in my arms asking me if i have a girlfriend. She's drunk, probably will forget me in the morning, but I'll just remind her again and again." Bucky chuckled, looking at your tired face in his arms.

"She's a bitch if she forgets." You slurred.

"She's precious. I'll make sure to remind her."

[You make me so happy, You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad ]

The sunlight peaks through the curtains, warming your face before even processing everything. You groan, feeling your headache and the alcohol in your system leaving. When you try to roll over, you felt strong arms in your body.

You slowly open your eyes, squinting, adjusting to the light. You almost gasped loud, what is bucky barnes doing right next to you? Shirtless-

"Good morning, doll." That smug voice, greeting you with a smile. He's also half asleep, hair messy, breathing softly. His arm over your waist, like it belongs there, the blanket tangled over your bodies lazily.

You freeze. “No.”

He laughs. “Oh yes.”

You pull the blanket over your face, remembering every bit of the things you have said and did yesterday. “We are not talking about it.”

“We’re absolutely talking about it.” he teases.

You groan into the pillow. “blame the tequila-"

“You told me I ruined your life,” he says, completely unbothered, “because I wasn’t yours, which i did remind you that i was yours." You started groaning even more, kicking your feet while hiding yourself in a pillow.

He shifts closer. “You also said I was gorgeous. Multiple times, i can't even remember how much you said it. Oh, you also told me i am your boyfriend, doll."

“You are a menace, bucky-" You can feel your cheeks heating up.

“And then,” he continues, clearly enjoying this, “you said, and I quote 'I can’t even look at your face without short-circuiting. I can't even look at you without wishing I'm yours.' " He said, trying to mimick your drunk giggly voice.

You're still going crazy, bucky is trying to take the pillow off your face and saw how red your cheeks are. “I’m moving to a remote island. With no Wi-Fi and i won't need to see your gorgeous face, NO WAIT-" you closed your eyes shut, feeling even more embarrassed.

He grins, sitting down while he looks down at your flustered face, smiling at the way you're remembering everything. You hid your face on the palm of your hands. “You were so flustered, sweetheart. It was adorable.”

You peek at him through your fingers. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I am, baby. I am." Bucky lays down beside you, on his side, looking at you. He He tugs your hand down gently, and now you’re face to face, barely inches apart. His voice softens.

“You wanna know something, though?”

You don’t breathe. “What?”

He smiles. Not teasing. Not smug. Just soft. "I wanna do this with you. I wanna be yours, i already said it last night, but i did promise to remind you. I'm yours, baby. All yours. You wanna do this with me too?"

You blink, lips forming a smile. "Yeah... What i said was all true, even if i was drunk and stupid. Bucky, i wanna do this with you. Together."

"Baby, wanna tell you something." He said, smiling.

"Yeah?"

"You're gorgeous, drop dead gorgeous."

Then immediately pull the blanket over your entire face again. “I HATE YOU.”

He laughs, tugging it back down just enough to see your red cheeks. “Nah. You’re just mad because I beat you to the compliment this time. Damn baby, your rosy cheeks gets me high, so damn cute."

You pout, no longer hiding. “I liked it better when I was the hot mess and you were the quiet one-"

[You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya? I've been watchin' you for ages, And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it]

The hallway is quiet. Too quiet for how fast your heart’s beating, too quiet that all you can hear are your sneakers hitting the floor.

You're heading back from the gym, body still shining from sweat, your sports bra clinging to your body perfectly, a white towel slung over your neck, wiping your sweat with it. You're drinking water when you felt his shoulder, his fingers, brushing over yours.

Bucky.

No words, he didn't talk, he didn't call you. The way his shoulder, his fingers touched your skin, you felt this sort of an electric touch, you felt it. He acts like it didn't mean a damn thing, but it did, the hallway was large enough, why did he have to brush past you.

You paused, you trailed your eyes to him who's now walking away from you slowly. He has this cocky walk, all broad shoulders and a very, very smug smile like he knows what he's doing. You know what's he's doing, you're seeing past through him, you've been for a while now.

“that was intentional, ” you mutter under your breath with a scoff. But he hears it. He stops.

Your eyes squints at him softly, looking at his figure with his whole body now facing you, arms crossed over his chest. That smile, that smug smile. He looks at you like he knows that you know that he's watching, and he's not stopping anytime soon.

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” Bucky says. His voice low, edged with amusement, with pride, seeing this as a challenge. Who would crack first, or who would make a move first.

You cross your arms, trying to sound unaffected about him. But you are, you just don't show it. If that's the game he wants to play, sure, you'd play this very dangerous game too. “I always notice.”

His steps are slow, steady, calculated as he makes his way towards you. Not too close, but close enough to be able to hear his breathing, the way he's to calm about this.

You hate the way he looks so damn good in that leather jacket, or the way his eyes dropped to your glistening lips. The way he plays with his voice, knowing the right edge to it to rile you up.

“You’ve been watchin’ me,” he says, voice a quiet rasp. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You exhale, he walked closer to you, slowly closing the gap between your figures. You can hear each other clearly, Heartbeat to heartbeat, or even the unsteady breathing.

“yeah, you were doing the same to me. you weren't so slick about it, barnes."

He chuckled. His voice dropped the smug, just pure tension now. It's the kind that can make anyone weak in their knees, the way his voice softens in such a low tone that only you can hear, it makes you wanna play with his hair while you kiss him.

“And you?” he pauses. “You’ve been trying not to feel it.” His jaw tenses. That damn metal hand holding your shoulder.

“I do feel it, so fucking much actually. ” you managed to tease, a smirk forming your lips. Neither of you backed away, just stayed there for a moment.

For a moment, you felt like nothing matters in the background anymore, it was just quiet. It was just the two of you, unsteady heartbeats towering over you and bucky. He lets go of your shoulder, but his knuckles brushed against yours. His touch lingered, that even he lets go, you can still feel it, crave for it.

You could kiss him.

He could kiss you.

And yet...

You both don’t move, just letting the space speak every unspoken word in your minds right now. Then someone’s footsteps echo from the elevator.

You both break apart instantly, backing away from one another like touching was illegal. Like being close is restricted. Like desire is a secret that no one should know, that you're scared to explore.

He gives you one last look before walking off again.

This time, you let him go but you can’t stop smiling.

[But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?]

You're in a safe house after a mission with bucky, steve decided that it's best for you guys to rest before going back to the compound the next day. Steve gives the coordinates of the safe house and you and bucky hurried there, it has been a long day and this is a much needed rest.

You and bucky ran towards the safe house when the rain kept pouring in, shoulder to shoulder, trying to keep up with each other. When you closed the door behind you, there was a moment of silence washing over the two of you. His eyes were fixed on you, like he didn't want to look away, like you'd disappear from his sight.

"You're drenched," He spoke. You looked down, your black long sleeves clinging into your body, hugging it. You looked away, finding an extra pair of clothes in the drawers, but you saw nothing. When you looked back, you saw bucky handing you an extra pair of his shirt.

"Change into this. You can use the bathroom first, i don't mind." You took the shirt from him, before you could even say thank you, he already walked away. You took a bath, wearing his shirt that falls down to your thighs.

“Warm in here,” you murmur, sitting down infront of the fireplace with Bucky's shirt on. You glaned at him, blinking softly before looking back at the fireplace. You feel his eyes flick toward you. Just for a second. Maybe two.

“Something bothering you?” you ask, voice soft and teasing. You noticed how he wouldn't sit still, your leg pressed against him.

He gives a quiet scoff. “You.” his voice rough around the edges.

You blink, pretending surprise. Of course you aren't. “Me?”

“You keep looking at me like that,” he says, eyes still on you like he's trying now to push himself but he can't take his eyes off you. “Like you know exactly what you’re doing.”

" What am i doing?" You let your fingers trace on his wrist, touch almost featherlight. A touch that is too intentional yet innocent.

“lie to yourself, ” he scoffed, chuckling right after. He finally looks at you with those steel blue eyes, his stare heavy, squinting for a moment.

"I can say the same to you, barnes." You chuckled.

“I’m trying to be good,” he says under his breath.

You smile, teasing him, while you lean more into him a tad bit closer, trying to close the gap between you two. “And how’s that going?”

“poorly. ” he chuckled, under his breathe, eyes on your finger and the way it touches him. There's a subtle silence, only hearing the fire crackle or the way your heart beats being this close to bucky. Then being such a tease, you made sure your lips brushed over his ear.

Bucky felt your breathe against him, your body touching his. It drives him crazy, insane, almost losing his composure because of how you close you are.

" Uh huh, i can see that, james. ” He turns to you so fast it makes your breath hitch, his face inches from yours, but he doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t move closer, because if he did, his lips would clash to yours.

Your body against him, his lips inches from yours, his unsteady heartbeat because it drives him insane how close you are and how much he wants you.

"You make it very hard for me to control myself," He whispered.

And still… neither of you makes the first move.

You just sit there, burning in it.

['Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me and I could see you up against the wall with me. And what would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you]

The hallway is dim, it's empty except there's you and bucky. You're leaning against the doorframe near the practice room, waiting for him to pass by while sipping on your water bottle, sweaty and breathless.

Here's the thing, you feel his presence even before seeing his figure walk pass you.

Bucky.

He's down the hall, standing far away from you but his eyes, you can see them even if the lights are dim. You can see the way he pretends to not see you but his eyes still lingered on you. His arms are crossed, eyes on you, you can feel it.

You raise a brow, lips forming a small smile. “Need something, Barnes?”

He doesn’t answer. Just walks toward you slowly, boots heavy against the floor. His boots being the only sound you can hear. You stayed against the doorframe, your pulse skipping because of him, trailing him with your eyes.

He stops a foot in front of you. He's too close, bodies almost colliding with one another. One move and you're all over him, one more time he steps forward he's glued to you. None of you moves, just stayed there.

“You always stand here after training?” he murmurs, asking you with a low tone. It's just the two of you, but the way he keeps his tone low as if anyone would hear, only you can hear him is fucking attractive.

You shrug, touching his chest with your finger. “Only when I know you’re gonna come walking down that hallway.”

His lips formed a smirk, a smile, eyes looking down on you, staring at your parted lips and this space, if you can call this a space.

“What are you doing?” you asked him gently, snapping him from locking eyes with you.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

“What are you about to do?” you answer, your fingers never leaving his chest. Eyes locked onto his lips, the way they glisten, the way they look so plump.

He moved closer, holding your waist with everytime he walks forward you step back and eventually hitting a wall, locking your body with his, caging you in his arms, your back pressed against a wall, he lets go. He wants to touch your waist again, but he stops and curls his fist to his side.

“You make it hard to walk away,” he breathes. You tiptoed, holding onto his shoulder, leaning just a little closer to his ear, brushing your lips against his ear.

“Then don’t.” when you pulled away, you locked eyes with him.

His forehead almost touches yours now. You stayed silent, just the sound of your heartbeats trying to compete, trying to tie its sound as one. You could kiss him, he could lean down and kiss you, he could pin you right here against the wall and never tell a single soul about it, but instead, bucky stepped back, just Barely, as if he doesn't want too but chose to.

“You’re gonna be the end of me,” he mutters, and walks away.

You exhale like you’ve been holding your breath for a year. A small smile creeped your lips.

[And we kept everything professional but something's changed, it's somethin' I, I like. They keep watchful eyes on us]

You sat across bucky at a long conference table. Everyone is here for a meeting, to talk about the next move, what's the right decision, a precise one. Yeah, what's your next move, bucky? Everyone looks focused, calculated, while you? You're not, but so is bucky.

His foot moves to touch yours under the table, boots clashing. It could've been an accident, except he doesn't pull back, he doesn't flinch when he looks at you. His steel blue eyes meeting yours, gaze stayed on you longer than necessary. It's supposed to be nothing, but it's everything.

You should keep this professional with crisp nods, clear reports, calculated strategies, but it's hard to be proffesional when he's like this. When he's making you want him, when you're making him want you.

"Y/n," The way he says your name. He stood up from his seat, leaning a little bit to hand you the intel. The way his fingers linger on yours, the way his hand purposely grabbed yours, the way you two didn't even blink when you locked eyes while his hand is on yours while trying to hand you the folder.

The way he doesn't even want to let go, but has too because of eyes, eyes on the two of you standing, leaning close to each other with the folder both in your hands.

"Focus, barnes." You mouthed at him. He smirks, leans back against his chair, eyes still on you, occasionally glancing to the screen but his eyes will still find yours.

And no once can see the way you curl your fist, not because you're pissed, but because you can't reach for him under the table. While bucky, his eyes do all the talking, imagining the things he wants to do but can't. That's suffering for the two of you.

[So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet. You won't believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet]

It's 1:43 am, your back is pressed against the wall with Bucky's arm around your waist, his warm breath against your ear. It's too close, to still, move bucky, just move. He pulled back, hands still on you, but his face is now inches apart from you, free hand on your cheek. You touched his face, slowly hooking your arms around him.

“We need to move. Fast and quiet,” he murmurs, voice low, his lips brushing against your jaw like an accident. “Before anyone sees.”

Your chest rises with his, like it's some rhythm. You nodded, but you didn't move, so did bucky. You wanted to stay like this, he wants that too, bucky wants to be this close to you more than anything else.

His gaze went to you lips, to your face, then snapped out of it as if he regrets it. Seems like he regrets it but he doesn't even move an inch, you're still in his arms.

“You okay?” you asked.

He exhales, slowly. “If you knew the things running through my head right now…” His eyes darken. Only if he knew what are the things running in your mind too, he'd break if he knew.

“Try me.” you challenged.

Bucky shakes his head softly, chuckling for a moment. “Nope. Can’t. You’d never look at me the same.”

“bucky, if only you know what are the things running through my mind too." You confessed, tiptoeing to lean closer to him.

That's it, it slipped from both of your lips. The way you two craved for each other, the way you think about each other so often. Then you both hear footsteps. Voices.

You snap apart, too fast, pretending that you two weren't all over each other, lips brushing against each other's ear or jaw, or how you touch each other with your fingers on his chest, your arms around his neck, or even his arms on your waist.

But as he turns to lead you down the hallway, his fingers touched yours. It's not an accident, it was never an accident in the first place. You follow him closed behind, eyes locked on his back as he reached for your hand.

Turns out you has been thinking about each other.

[I could see you throw your jacket on the floor. I could see you make me want you even more. What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you. ]

You follow him behind, the door behind you locking shut. The citylights and the way the city hums with adrenaline peaks in your window.

Bucky pinned you against your door, touching you like he craves it, like he's memorizing you. "Do you even know what you do to me, doll?" He asked, lips almost touching yours, his hands caressing your waist.

“i drive you crazy? Good. Because you drive me crazy, james." You bit your lips, fingers playing with his hair, your body against his.

"I try to stay away.” he chuckled, low, on edge. “I do. But then you walk in wearing that look, like you want me the same way i do for you."

"You try to stay away, but you don't. Good, because i don't want you to stay away. I want you, james." He snaps. Bucky's hands left your waist for a moment, taking a step back. You thought he'd leave, walk away, but he shrugs his jacket off, dropping it on the floor with a thud.

He threw his jacket on the floor, your eyes dropped to his jacket and back to him, pulling him by his shirt to eliminate the space between you.

"Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he warns.

" I do mean it, james." Your hand clutching onto his shirt, while his hands gripped you firmly. You can hear how unsteady his breathing, and you're sure that he could hear yours.

"God. I dream about you. All the damn time. ” bucky admits, like it’s a confession ripped from his throat. “Even when I don’t want to. Especially when I shouldn’t. all i can see is you." His head rested on your neck, kissing it softly. You moaned his name, his lips on your skin is too much, too good, you don't want him to stop.

"I think about you when I shouldn’t be thinking about anything. During missions. In bed. When I’m alone. When I’m not. All i can see is you." He swallows hard with your confession.

"Wanna say something, james?" you ask, teasing, but your voice betrays you.

“Something I’m trying not to do.”

“You always do that?” you murmur. “Throw your jacket like you’re about to ruin someone?”

“No,” he says quietly. “Just with you.” he tucked your hair behind you ear. He looks at your lips, like he wanna kiss you, you do too, you wanna lean in and kiss him. But he took a step back, like he didn't even want to move away from you.

“We shouldn't.” he turns, he leaves, leaving his jacket on the floor. Your fingers touched your neck, still feeling his lips linger, feeling every sensation of the way he kissed your skin.

[I could see you in your suit and your necktie, Passed me a note saying, "Meet me tonight"]

Tony threw a gala. The ballroom is loud, everyone is talking about different topics that interest them. Clinking glasses, heels, dancing on dance floor. You didn't care about any of it, all you care is him, now that you see him.

Bucky barnes on a suit is a problem, because he looks too good, but him on a black on black suit, his tie crisp and hair slicked back. It's a crisis that you won't survive.

Bucky sees you, close to the bar with a drink on your hand. He thought seeing you in a body suit on missions is the end of him, but no, seeing you in a low back dress that is in red is how it ends for him.

You catched his eyes from across the room. He looks at you steadily, he's admiring you, like it's a burning desire. You look at him the same way, there's too much tension, to much push and pull and nothing is happening.

And when someone asked you to dance, a handsome gentleman, the way you took his hand and danced with him, Bucky's eyes traced every movement. His gaze didn't left your frame on the dance floor with someone else, he saw the way another man has their arms around you, he scoffed in disbelief because that's his place, he knows it, you know it.

Bucky moves through the crowd of people dancing, not once his eyes left you, and you didn't gaze anywhere else too, just him, even if you're dancing with someone else. Even if the man you're dancing with is talking to you, your eyes, your mind is with bucky, the way he walks through a crowd. He doesn't approach you, he doesn't call you like a normal person, because if he did, he would've claimed you from the man you're dancing with, that would be a scene. You feel it, his hand brushing yours, a piece of paper slipped into your palm.

The moment you looked away, he was gone too.

You excused yourself from the man, your heart pounding as you unfold the paper bucky slipped in your palm. It's was just five words, but it felt more.

“Rooftop. Midnight. Don’t be late.”

You look up from the bar, he's already from across the room again, talking with steve while his eyes are on you. And when your eyes met, every vein, every inch of you burns in anticipation.

[Then we kiss, and you know I won't ever tell, yeah And I could see you being my addiction]

You arrived in the rooftop and found yourself alone, it's 11:58pm, two more minutes before midnight. The wind is sharp, brushing over your skin, your hair flowing softly. The city is glowing from up there, and suddenly you hear foot steps behind you.

You don’t turn. You don’t need too.

"I didn't think you'd actually come, " Bucky says, voice lower than usual. Was he actually overthinking about you not coming?

He stood beside you, arms rested on the railing of the balcony. You glanced over your shoulder to see him, heart beating so loud. "I'd never miss it, you passed me a note like we're in high school. That's gotta mean something. " You chuckled.

He smiled, chuckling for a moment like he's trying to keep everything together. He steps closer, holding your hand to face him. The air shifts instantly.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come up here,” he says.

“but you still did, james."

He’s quiet for a beat.

"Yeah, i know. I can't help it." You stared at him, his suit open, tie looser and a few buttons open. You can feel it, the way he held you like he's trying to control himself. But you didn't want him to control himself, you want him to show you that he wants you the same way you do.

“Say something,” he whispers. But you didn't. You figured that you already did so much talking, so much teasing, it needs to end now. You stook a step forward, chest to chest, breath to breath this time. Your fingers pulling his suit, pulling him closer and his hands lost control, he touched your waist, gripped it like he's not trying to let go anymore. It wasn't harsh, just trembling.

“Careful,” he says, low. “If we keep touching each other like this... I would no longer stop."

You tilt your chin up, daring, challenging him. “Then don’t, james. God, i don't want you to stop."

That’s all it takes.

He crashes his lips to yours like he's been waiting for this, hands moving along your body as if he's trying to figure out of this is real, if you are real. The way he touched your waist, his hand going to your back, pressing you against him. He kisses you desperately, months of tension coming loose with your lips on him. You kissed him back just as hard, filled with passion and eagerness, fingers sliding in to the nack of his neck trying to pull him closer, playing and tugging with his hair.

It's everything you both tried not to want, but you ended up wanting anyway. The way your desires unravels with each other's lips and touch, coming undone in the rooftop, the night witnessing the walls breaking down and finally confronting what you want.

When you finally pull apart there's a string of saliva connecting you two, swollen lips, crazy heartbeat and pulse going wild. You didn't even need to talk, just foreheads against each other, hearing each other's heartbeat.

The thing about chloe is she lived for the volume of everything. She thrived on the noise, the crowd, tha flashes of camera, of being known, that's her. You, however preferred the quiet hum of book, of libraries, of the quietness, the soft glances, not loud, just quiet.

The difference never really came into the picture because she's your friend, not until she bumoed into johnny storm. According to her he's a hotshot, the human torch, a big time, her words not yours, she met him at a downtown cafe.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” Chloe had exclaimed, eyes wide, not with genuine remorse but with the unmistakable glint of opportunity.

You, leaning against your chair, waiting for two vanilla lattes, watching the interaction. You knew, you knew where this is coming but wanted to give chloe the benefit of the doubt. Johnny, handsome and being genuinely friendly in natire, laughed it off. He glanced at chloe, and the chair behind her. You didn't smile or wave, there was no point. Chloe smiled practiced and showed her wide eyed sincerity, but you knew better.

In the weeks that followed, chloe literally did shine brighter. Her social media skyrocketed because of her famous relationship with the johnny storm, a fantastic four member. Every caption dripped with rehearsed devotion, but every phone call was about bags, shoes, wanting more, vip access, invites, and johnny? He gives in.

You felt a prickle of discomfort, of course you did. She wad using the guy like some sort of atm machine for material things and fame. You worry about him. He was easy to read, he was also head over heels for her. Passionate, loyal, and vulnerable when it comes to his heart because he's looking for something real.

You tried to tell him. It was after an overwhelming red carpet event that chloe pulled you in. Johnny had pulled you aside to thank you for retrieving Chloe’s misplaced clutch.

“Johnny, can I talk to you for a second?” you began, your voice low. “About Chloe…”

He immediately looked at you with his charming eyes, "yeah? She's amazing right? Finally, someone who's it for me. Don't worry, she's planning this awesome double date for us and she's finding a guy for you. Super lowkey swear-"

“No, Johnny, listen,” you urged, trying to keep your tone gentle. “I just worry that she’s… that she’s more interested in the ‘Human Torch’ part than the ‘Johnny’ part.”

His smile vanished instantly, the charn gone, hurt showed in his blue eyes. "You hate me that much? You hate her that much?" He muttered. "I thought maybe you out of all people, as her friend and as my friend now too, you would be supportive and could see past through my flames. She likes me, just... Can you just be happy for your friend and not mess things up between us?"

Hurt, and realizing you’d only succeeded in pushing him further away, you backed off. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”You couldn't force him to see what he wasn’t ready to. Two weeks later, the volume finally broke.

It was a cold rainy tuesday, you were curled up on the sofa with scream playing when your phone buzzed.

[Chloe: dumped him lol. Boring now. He cried, didn't feel bad tho. ]

You felt a cold wave of disgust, of anger while reading her text.

You found him not in the buzzing heart of the Baxter Building, but on the rarely-used rooftop access of your apartment complex. He was sitting on the damp concrete floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, shoulders slumped.

He wasn't glowing anymore, No charming eyes, just hurt. He was just cold, wet from the rain. You took of your thick jacket, leaving you only in your long sleeve top, and placed it on his shoulder.

“Mind if I join you?” you asked quietly.

Johnny looked up, offering a miserable soft smile. "Yeah sure. But I'm no good of a company right now." You sat a few feet away from him, you pulled out a bag of gummy bears from your pocket and handed it to him.

“They’re the kind with the flavor that hits you five seconds after you chew,” you murmured.

He finally lifted his head and let out a choked, humorless laugh. “I thought you hated those.”

“I do,” you admitted, “but they’re your favorite. And I figured you could use a distraction that doesn't involve saving the world.”He took the bag and immediately shoved a handful into his mouth, chewing moodily. After a long minute, he lowered his voice.

"She broke up with me via text. Told me I'm too much of a home and heart and less fun lately. She finds me boring when i give importance to my family, or when i bring her over to let her meet the people that i love. I mean what's erong with that? She saw the glow, the flames, and not the guy in me."

You shifted closer, closing the distance without being invasive. You didn't gloat or say the obvious, agonizing, I told you so. Instead, you did the opposite. You reached out and placed your hand gently on his arm, right where you could feel the faint, internal flicker of heat.

"She did see the glow and flames johnny, she just didn't understand that it came with you as you, a family guy who loves his sister, nephew, and teammates, she didn't see that. She only liked the noise, not the calm and steady in you."

He leaned his head back against the brick wall, a tear tracing a quick, invisible path through the cold rain on his cheek. “So I’m just… stupid, then?”

"No," You said firmly. "You're the sweetest i guy i know, loyal and kind. You're someone who gives importance to the people around you that's why you're different, not all people are like that nowadays. You just wear your heart on your sleeves, which is not wrong, but sonetimes people can take you for granted like now."

You watched as he slowly turned his head to look at you. The sadness in his eyes was still there, but it was being replaced by something softer, something questioning.

"I don't care about the news cycles, the red carpets, the cameras, or the celebrity in you. I care about the guy who will literally drop everything for family, someone who cares for family, for his sister and nephew, for his friends, someone who buys and gives me terribe gummy bears just because he knows it can make me laugh, and someone who just want a quirt night sometimes." You confessed.

You moved your hands, framing his cold, damp face, and looked directly into his eyes, giving him the pure, honest truth he deserved.

“You thought she was the one because she made you shine in the spotlight. I’m telling you that you don’t need the spotlight to shine for anyone. You’ve been burned, and I’m sorry."

"I'm sorry for what I've said, that night about um-" You cut him off.

"It's okay, johnny."

“I think,” he murmured, his voice husky, “I think I have an opening for a new co-pilot on my movie night mission.”

You smiled, the weight of the world lifted from your chest.

“Only if you promise to let me control the remote.”

He didn’t argue. He just tightened his hold on you, realizing he had finally found his true home, not in the high atmosphere of celebrity, but right here, in the quiet, steady warmth of your embrace. He realized that he doesn't need to be taken for granted just to feel something, just to have someone who'll stay because he's him.

Johnny didn't move for a long moment, simply savoring the sensation of his forehead resting against yours. The soft, golden light radiating from his skin felt less like a power and more like a gentle sigh of relief.

“Come on,” you finally whispered, your voice thick with emotion, gently pulling back. “The roof is damp, and you need something hot that isn’t you.”

He let you lead him. His fingers found yours, lacing together easily, and he squeezed your hand like he was afraid to let go. This wasn't the showy, possessive hand-holding he’d done with Chloe; this was a deep, quiet need for connection.

Inside the warmth of your apartment, the contrast with the cold rooftop was immediate. You steered him toward the kitchen, flipping on the kettle.

"Sit," you instructed, pulling out a chair at your small, worn kitchen table, the kind he’d tried (and failed) to help you assemble months ago.

You poured tea for him," Drink this,"you said.

He obeyed, taking a long, grateful sip. The tea warmed his core, but the real comfort came when you pulled a second chair closer to his and sat down, not opposite him, but right next to him, your shoulder brushing his.

"This," he said softly, leaning his head against your shoulder, the movement entirely instinctual. "This is what I thought it was supposed to feel like."

You gently ran your fingers along the back of his neck, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath your touch.

"Like coming home?" you asked.

"More than that," he mumbled into your sweater, which now smelled faintly of smoke, rain, and your favorite laundry detergent. "Like the pilot light of my soul finally found its match. I spent all that time trying to be the brightest thing in the room for Chloe, and you… you just wanted me to be a comfortable temperature."

"I love the fire johnny, it's spectacular. But I'm going to love the guy who's a disaster in the kitchen, who steals my cereals, and someone who needs a constant reminder to eat, and someone who needs to be reminded of that you're enough with or without the flames. I can show you what real love feels like, just believe in me..." He didn't reply, he just smiled quirtly while holding his warm mug. He turned to face you, his elbow resting on the table, breaking through his sadness. He held your cheek, leaning in for a soft and slow kiss, no rush, just savoring the quietness between the two of you.

"Okay," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with new promise. "Let's start the mission. Co-pilot, which movie makes you fall asleep the fastest?"

You laughed, the sound bright and easy. "The one where you have to cuddle me the whole time because the special effects are terrible."