The distinct smell of books flooded your senses as you stepped into the bookstore that Monday morning, holding a take-out cup of coffee from the nearby coffee shop. It was comforting, as it had been since the first time you walked in, and as it had been this past year working there. Barnes' Book Corner was an old establishment, owned by the same family for generations.

As always, the weight on your shoulders lifted, relaxing your posture as you took a deep breath. It was strange how your workplace was also a place that could be the source of your comfort, a place where you could find solace.

It had been a miracle that you had seen the job offer poster just as the owner's son was putting it up against the front window. The moment you entered the bookstore, you were convinced that the universe worked in mysterious ways, because there was no other place you would rather work in.

Bucky Barnes, the owner’s son, was the one in charge of interviewing you, since he was the one who was currently managing while his parents prepared for their retirement. To your surprise, after you answered a few questions, he hired you on the spot, confirming the serendipity of the whole situation.

From there, one shift after another, your friendship with him bloomed. Bucky was a very fascinating individual, especially once you went past his reputation and his usual brooding exterior. He was a few years older than you, but your school days overlapped enough for you to learn that Bucky was a playboy, always on dates, with a girl under his arm during the frat parties.

Your shifts went by between pleasant conversations and attending to customers, Bucky being a constant across your days. However, said friendship had rarely left the confines of the bookstore. Being in charge wasn't something he took lightly, so he poured his soul into his job, which translated into extra hours and zero social life outside the job.

It also helped that Bucky was a sight for sore eyes. Sharp jaw, devastating smile, piercing blue eyes that could fight the sea from their beauty. More than once, you had found yourself ogling at him as he worked around, carrying boxes that made him flex his biceps and reach the top shelves, making his shirts ride up and flashing his skin. And his brain? God, he was smart and funny, always with a copy of a book near him, and ready to drop the most nerdiest comment possible.

Yeah, you may have had a crush on him years ago, and sometimes it came back from time to time, but who could blame you? He was magnetic. Handsome and charming. Dangerous combination.

“Morning, boss.” You said after stepping behind the counter, leaving your stuff in its usual spot.

“You’re early,” Bucky said over his shoulder without looking at you since he was putting up some books on the highest shelf.

“Wow, you said that as if that's a shocker.”

“It is.”

You made an exaggerated gasp, making him huff a laugh. “Excuse me? You're talking to the employee of the month, a title I'm holding since I started working here, mind you!” You pointed at the board were said title was over your smiling photo. “If I’m always late, I wouldn't have it!”

“Sweetheart,” he said, the nickname he always used with you. “Besides me, you're the only employee, and I can't have it since I’m — how did you call me the other day?” His smug smile made your heart flutter, but you decided to ignore it.

“A nepobaby.” You completed. “You’re so rude, I don't think I will give you the coffee I bought for you, I’ll have to drink it.” You said with a mournful tone, pulling the coffee closer to you.

That made him turn.

He narrowed his eyes at you, leaving the book in his hand back into the box. “Did you say coffee?”

You nodded.

“I bought it for the best boss in the world, but I don't see any of your parents here.” You shrugged as your eyes scanned the back of the store, as if waiting for his parents to materialize on the hall that led to the break room and back office.

“Is that from the coffee shop around the corner?” He said, nearly drooling, noticing the cup sleeve.

Another nod as you logged in to the computer at the front desk. He almost dropped the book in his hand as he placed it back into the book cart and rushed to the counter.

"You're an amazing person, have I told you that?" Bucky said, forearms resting over the counter as he leaned forward.

"Mmm, maybe." You said.

"You're the best employee of the year as well." He added, his eyes tracking the coffee cup as you moved it slightly in his direction.

You hovered your hand around the cup, "Enough for a raise?" You asked, raising a brow.

He hung his head forward, defeated. "You know I can't clear that yet," he lifted his head slightly and leaned even more, lowering his voice as if he was sharing a secret. "But I can put in a good word with my father."

You shrugged, "I know, I had to try. Drink it before it gets cold, it's your order." He raised a fist in victory when you placed his cup near his hand.

"What about you?" He said, closing his eyes as he got a whiff of the coffee scent. "You didn't buy a cup for yourself? We can always share."

"No need, I already drank mine there. I had an early breakfast with a couple of friends."

He scrunched his nose, "The good group you actually enjoy going out with or the one you haven't got the strength to drop and keep going with them even if they make you feel bad?"

You slowly turned to him with your jaw dropped, "That's it, give me that cup back!" You said, reaching your hand.

"No! It's mine!" He leaned back, raising his cup high so you couldn't grab it. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to the monitor, "I didn't lie, though." He mumbled against the cup once he brought it down.

You sighed, "The good group."

"Thank God. Last time you went out with them was what, after the wedding of one of them last year, right?" You stopped typing.

"Yeah? How do you even remember that?"

He shrugged, "You were stressing out the week prior about your dress, something about not being the right color in the preview, and you also asked for a day off, remember?"

"It was not my fault that they took the photo with bad lighting! The burgundy looked way darker than it should have."

"Believe me, even if it wasn't the right color, you still looked beautiful." He winked and turned around to return to his spot next to the cart, missing the way your skin flushed.

Maybe you do need to get laid.

Which reminded you of the conversation you had with your friends that morning. The reunion went as it always does: each one of you did a recap of the highlights of the last few months, quick jokes between anecdotes over a cup of coffee, and your breakfast election.

Looking back, the topic of your love life was going to be on the table by default. Both of your friends were happily married; one had two kids, while the other was newlywed and expecting. Kids and marriage shanninigangs were the main theme during their turns, so when both turned to you, the "single" sign was already hovering over your head in neon lights with bright arrows pointing at you.

"So what about you? Any cute guy coming to the bookstore?" Mel asked with a playful glint in her eyes, her eyebrows waggling as she rubbed a hand over her growing belly.

You narrowed your eyes over your cup, "Not really."

"Anyone that catched your eye? Any… coworkers perhaps?" Cassie asked, taking a bite of her pastry.

"I don't have any coworkers — well, Bucky… he's my boss, uhm, quasi-boss, more like my manager, if I'm being honest." You rambled as you took a piece out of your pastry with your fingers. "But no one special."

Cassie and Mel exchanged a look, while you obliviously continued eating as you stared out of the window.

"When was the last time you went out on a date?" Mel wondered. "Was it that date with Scott?"

You rolled your eyes, "Don't remind me of him. But yeah, I think so."

Cassie looked at you with her jaw dropped, "Girl, that was before my second pregnancy, and Harrison has 3!"

You winced.

"Wait, but that was the last date. Seriously, your last relationship was with Dylan?" Mel said with a frown, as if reciting the timeline of your lovelife would change the facts.

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, why are you acting as if you didn't know this?"

"I mean, I suspected it, but we rarely talk about your love life! Let alone your sex life!"

"Wow, we are not discussing my sex life." You side-eyed the crowded coffee shop, proper of the hour. "At least not in public and definitely not sober."

"Come on, girl, you are not the type that likes hookups, you're telling me you had slept with someone after Dylan?" You scrunched your nose. "You see my point?"

"I'm fine, I promise. I prefer it this way. I'm happy enjoying my single life and my toys."

Mel shook her head; her face reminded you of how she looked every time there was a debate in class. "Seriously? Haven't you wondered what it would be like? Having someone to share your life, someone who loves you and makes you laugh just as hard as they make you come."

Even Cassie choked on her drink at her words.

"Jesus Christ, I won't believe anything that comes out of your mouth. Hormones and your honeymoon phase glow are talking for you." You said with a fond smile.

Mel blushed, "Yeah, maybe you're right." She chuckled. "However, my point stands."

You rolled your eyes and focused again on your food. After a few moments in silence, Cassie reached her hand, placing it at the side of your plate, forcing you to look up at her.

"What would you say about us arranging a blind date for you?" Cassie said, using the same tone she used when she tried to convince her children to eat some veggies.

"A blind date, really?" You narrowed your eyes at her.

"Yeah, who better to arrange it than your two best friends? We are both in happy marriages, so that's enough to make us more than qualified. We know what you like and what not. We can totally find you a great prospect."

"In what moment did my life become a season of Bridgerton?"

Mel cleared her throat and, holding her cup of tea high, she said with her best British impression: "Dearest gentle reader, you shall be the diamond of this season."

"Easy there, Lady Whistledown." You said, with tears in your eyes from laughter.

"So, what do you say?" Cassie said, laughter still bubbling in her voice.

You considered it for a second. You didn't lie about being happy, but you wouldn't lie that you haven't been wondering what it would be like to have someone. Getting back to your lonely apartment was getting bitterly sad.

"One date. And if it doesn't work out, you two will drop the cupid's work."

Mel squealed, clapping rapidly. "We promise. Oh my God, I can't wait!"

"We won't disappoint you," Cassie said with a bright smile, placing her hand over yours on the table and giving it a few taps. "Better start planning the wedding."

You rolled your eyes, taking a last bite of your pastry and getting up to order Bucky's coffee, knowing that he would kill you if he found out you had gone there and didn't get him something, leaving your friends scheming on the table.

・・・・・

Two days had passed when you got the message. Your shift had just started a few minutes ago, and surprisingly, Bucky hadn't arrived yet, so you were still waiting for him to bring the new arrivals boxes to the front of the store. Without much to do, you took your phone out, and the moment it unlocked, as if it was part of a prank from the universe, the notification popped up.

Mel You have a date! Next Saturday. 7 pm. I'll text you the location.

You ???????

Cassie He's great, you're gonna love him.

You Okay??

Mel He's so nice! Just make sure to wear something pretty. Show that curves, babe ;)

You let out a grunt of frustration. This was insane. You had thought they were going to forget, truly. Or struggle to the point that they themselves would tell you that they would give up, since the dating pool looked more and more pathetic nowadays. But two days? In two days, they found someone willing to have a blind date with you. You brought your hand to your mouth and started biting your nail — an old habit that you had thought you had left behind back in college.

A date.

A fucking date.

You hadn't dated in years. The last one had been a nightmare. And before that, you had been in a long-term relationship, where a 'date' consisted of watching a movie or having take-out in his dorm.

What if you fumble this date?

What if, because of your inexperience, you scare a perfect guy away?

"Why the fuck did I agree on this?" You mumbled, burying your head in your hands.

In that instant, the bell over the door chimed, announcing a customer, or so you thought.

"Who's ready for a blind date!" Bucky exclaimed, holding a bag with rolls of gift paper sticking out of it.

Your eyes widened, and your elbows that had been resting on the counter slipped, making you almost lose balance and almost hit yourself on the face. "What?"

Bucky raised the bag, brows knitting together at your reaction. “The dynamic that my mom insists on us doing? The blind date with a book? Did you forget?”

“Oh, yes, that, sorry — yeah, I remember.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes! I — What do you need me to do?”

“We need to wrap the books that are in that box on that table and write the clues on the front. Are you sure you're okay? You can take the day off if you need.” He sounded worried as he scanned your face.

“No!” You exclaimed, horrified, the last thing you needed was going back to your lonely apartment and spiraling alone. “I’m fine.”

He hummed, “I will act as if I believe you.” He approached the counter and leaned in. “But, just remember, you can trust me with whatever you need, okay? I’m your friend.”

You smiled at him and nodded, “Thank you, Bucky.”

He reciprocated your smile and, after tapping the counter, he strutted towards the table he had organized after hours the day before. “Come on, these books won't wrap themselves.”

You took the list of books with the preselected clues from the printer and joined him.

For the next hour, you fell into a system, while Bucky wrapped the books and placed a sticky note in the front so you could know what title it was, while you were in charge of writing the clues and drawing doodles as decoration on the front of each book.

It was probably the tenth time in less than an hour that you had written “Enemies to lovers” and "Fantasy romance," when Bucky called your name.

“Are you sure you're okay? You keep bouncing your leg, and I think you’re gonna rip the top of that pen if you keep biting it.”

Your leg froze mid-bounce.

Your mouth opened and then closed again.

After a sigh, you closed your eyes. “I’m gonna tell you, but please promise me you won't laugh.”

He left the book he was working on on the table, “Hit me.”

“My friends… they just texted me that they arranged a date for me.”

He blinked.

“A date?” He said slowly.

“Well, a blind date.” You pointed at the pile of books next to you. “Kinda ironic if you ask me.”

His eyes fell to the book in front of him and frowned.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” He shook his head. “I just… I’m trying to remember the last time you mentioned something about dating.”

“Well, you can keep digging, but to be honest, I think this is the first time we've touched this topic — at least on my end, I’ve heard many things about your dating life.” You chuckled, hoping that he would take the bait and forget your situation.

“You shouldn't believe rumours.” He squinted his nose.

“You forget we went to the same school,” you said, “Still, since I’ve been working here, I’ve seen you leave early for dates or like that time that girl came looking for you to give you back your wallet that you left in her house.”

He frowned. “That was before. I haven't gone on dates in 8 months.” He made an emphasis on the time passed.

“Oh, really? I haven't noticed.” You said and went back to scribbling on the book in your hands. You felt his eyes still on you, and sure enough, when you lifted your head, he was staring at you with his brows raised. “Shit, that sounded wrong. I mean that I truly hadn't noticed, that was not sarcasm. I do pay attention, it's not like I'm distracted while working, I’m just focused.” You rambled until he started laughing.

“God, you do overthink.”

“That's what my therapist said.” You shrugged while you felt your cheeks burning.

“Is that what is happening here? You overthinking the date?”

You exhaled, exhausted, “I'm overthinking everything. What should I wear? What should I even say? How much is too much? What's expected? I haven't been on a date in years, and before that, dates weren't something that I paid any mind to, and they definitely were far from decent, if I even could call them dates. None of my past boyfriends cared enough to take me on a real date.”

You squirmed, trying to push back the memories of the many times you cried yourself to sleep, thinking that you weren't enough for any of them.

“My friends care, and they say this guy is a great catch, so what if I fuck up? I don't have a problem being single, but… i just don't want to lose something that is good only because of a stupid, bad date.”You ranted.

“That’s… so much pressure.” He softened his voice, empathy written in his features.

“Yeah, imagine having to deal with it.”

A beat.

“You don't have to do it alone, you know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you're worrying about going on a date, and here I am, someone who has gone to several dates. You can rant to me about what you're overthinking, and I can help you. Think of me like Yoda but for dating.”

“And I'll be your Jedi?”

His eyes glinted with enthusiasm.

“Yes! You're getting it!”

You snorted, “I don't know if you're insane for suggesting it or I’m even more insane for actually considering it.”

“Is that a yes?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

You sighed, “Fuck it, let’s do it. I don't have anything to lose.”

Bucky punched the air, “Yes!”

“Why are you so happy?” You chuckled, watching as he did a weird celebration dance.

“Can’t I be happy for helping a friend? Think of this as a payoff for the many times you have helped me out.”

“A raise would be nicer, though.” You muttered under your breath.

He stopped dancing and pointed at you. “I’m working on it!”

You rolled your eyes and pointed at the pile next to him. “Go back to work, those books won't wrap themselves.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said, raising a hand to his head in the form of a salute.

Yeah… this might be a bad idea.

Later that day, you were eating your lunch when Bucky burst into the break room. He sat across from you and, with a smile that promised trouble. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his ankles as he stretched, and his hands remained threaded together over his stomach.

“Tell me more about you.” He said.

“I’m on my break.” You buried your fork in your plate and brought it to your mouth. "I don't function unless my break is done."

“And you need help. Part of being on a date is being comfortable talking about yourself and listening, so let's practice." He explained.

“Okay…” You looked down at your plate with a frown.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, “I’m listening.”

You let out a deep breath. “I don't know. I suck at this.”

“Come on, tell me anything. For example, why did you decide to work here? We have never talked about that.”

“It’s stupid.” You mumbled.

“It's not, I promise.”

You locked eyes with him, debating yourself if you should tell him the truth or go with a simpler, less uncomfortable reason. But the more you looked into his blue eyes, the more you remembered who was in front of you — yes, your almost boss slash former crush, but also your friend.

So you went for the truth.

“When I was younger, my parents had a rough patch; there were always fights at home and… I don't know, I was old enough to get out of the house without their supervision, so I went out and walked around until one day I found this place, it was… quiet, peaceful. A safe place.” You said, looking down at your food. “I used to come here every day until they decided to divorce and my dad moved out.”

Your eyes burned, tears threatened to spill as you remembered exactly how you felt those years ago.

“So last year, I was on my way to an interview at a corporation. A boring desk job. Can you believe? And then as I was passing by, I saw you placing that sign.”

“That's why you had a job application with you,” Bucky mumbled. You raised your head to look at him, and when he realized he had said it out loud, he blushed. “Sorry.”

You let out a wet laugh. “Yeah, that's why. The moment I crossed that door… I felt exactly like I did back then. I felt safe, like I was coming back home. It was a no-brainer after that.”

His eyes softened, he reached towards you and placed his hand over your wrist. “I’m glad you found this place.”

You felt your throat tightening; the way he was looking at you was doing things for you that you didn't want to entertain with, so you looked away, removing your hand to pick up your bowl and lean back into your chair.

"Anyways, don't you think that's a topic for a second date, at least? A lot to unpack for a first date." You attempted to joke.

"It's your decision. If you feel comfortable about it, at the end of the day, it's a part of your life."

"I'll have it mind." You glanced at him, and for a second, you thought he was leaning in, but you heard the bell that announced a new customer, interrupting whatever he was thinking of doing.

He closed his eyes for a second, cursing under his breath, and then got up. "I'll go, you finish your lunch."

You nodded, and then he was gone.

The day passed by with more stolen moments whenever the flow of customers died down. He would approach you at the front desk whenever the customers left the shop or in case some were just looking around, and he didn't need to be placing more books or taking some out from the storage. In case you had switched places, he would find you wherever you were in the store and trail behind you as he asked questions.

Some were rapid-fired, especially when he saw someone approaching from the corner of his eye:

Cats or dogs?

Sunrise or sunset?

Sweet or savory?

Early bird or night owl?

If there was time, he made more open questions:

If you had a superpower, what would it be?

What would you do if you won the lottery?

Favorite song and album, and why?

“Okay, so let me see if I’m understanding, so he is going to marry another girl —” He said while you counted the till after he placed the closed sign.

“He wants to propose.” You corrected.

“Tomato, tomahto. He wants to propose, gifting her a star.” You nodded. “And the star is a girl.”

“Yup.”

“And he falls in love with her.”

“Eventually — it's a really good movie.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I don't know, there's something appealing to watch their journey together and how even if they annoy each other from the start, you see them fall in love without them realizing, or at least trying not to think about it.”

“So you're a romantic.” You expected to see a mocking expression, but instead, there was a look in his eyes that you could only think of as genuine curiosity.

“I guess you can say so.”

He hummed, and after he nodded to himself, he took his phone from the table and pocketed it.

“Bucky?” You narrowed your eyes at him. He was moving in silence, something he rarely did, let alone in the middle of a conversation.

"Do you mind closing tonight?" He said, reaching for his jacket behind the counter.

"Where are you going?"

"Unimportant." He put on his jacket. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Unbelievable." You muttered. "And I fucking lost count." You groaned and started over.

・・・・・

It was early, you had just flipped the sign to OPEN just a few minutes ago, and now you were busy accommodating some books when you heard the door open.

“One second!” You called out, taking the last book of the cart and putting it in its place.

“Good morning.” Bucky was waiting for you next to the front desk, leaning against the wood.

“I thought you were a customer.” You said, rolling the book cart with you.

“It’s still early. Here, let's switch.” He turned back, took something from behind him, and walked towards you.

He took the cart and handed you a takeout cup, same one you had bought him the day before.

You inhaled the scent of fresh coffee and mentally scolded yourself for not taking a detour to buy your own cup.

“It's for you, by the way,” Bucky said as he rolled the cart away.

“What?”

“It's your order. Drink it.” He chuckled when he saw the confusion on your face. “What? Sweetheart, don't look at me as if I never do good things for you.”

Maybe it was because you had your guard down, but you flushed.

You didn't answer him; you hid your face and drank from the cup. Only one sip was enough for you to widen your eyes and look at him with surprise.

“It is my order!”

“Of course it is.” He said with a smile, placing the cart in its place and moving to continue the morning routine.

“How?” You took another sip and closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of the beverage travel inside you.

“Remember that time, when my parents were here, and I volunteered to bring all of you coffee? Well, I didn't forget your order.”

“That was months ago. I had less than a month here.” You said with surprise.

He shrugged. "I pay attention."

Bucky walked towards the computer and began checking the emails, taking your place at the front desk.

"I see that."

"Oh, by the way, I saw the movie," Bucky said casually over his shoulder. “The one you mentioned was your favorite?”

“Really?”

He nodded, focused on the screen, “Good movie, I see why you like it. And you were right about them.” He turned to face you, “Their journey truly was appealing, but damn, the number of times I just wanted to shake some sense into them so they could see they had what they needed in front of them.” He made a gesture of strangling the air.

You chuckled. “Exactly!”

You kept talking about the movie and other hobbies while working; it felt natural talking with him. Even if during your first month you had tried to keep it professional, Bucky’s charm had been disarming.

You hadn't even received your first check when he was making you laugh and talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Now, with this whole date situation, Bucky realized that there were many things he didn't know about you, and maybe it was selfish, but he was determined to know you — not his co-worker who could talk about him about the frequent customers, who could keep up with his humor and make him lose his composure while doing inventory and restocking — the real you, the one that lived outside the bookstore when you were out of the clock.

・・・・・

Three days before your date, while both of you were taking boxes out of the storage room, Bucky became bolder.

“Are you planning to have sex with him?” He said casually, holding the door open of the room with one hand and carrying a box with his metal arm so you could go through.

You almost dropped the box in your arms if it hadn't been because he was close enough to keep the box steady with his hand.

“Careful, you don't want to get injured so close to your date.” He said with a teasing smile.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” You scolded him.

He winced. “Full government name? Damn.”

“Why are you even making that question?”

“I swear I’m not a perv.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He snorted. “You mentioned when you were rambling about the date, remember?”

Your eyebrows jumped.

“Well, not explicitly.” He added after seeing your expression. “But you said you were worried about expectations, where the limits are. I thought you referred to that.”

You opened your mouth, but words got stuck in your throat.

“You really have a good memory.” You said instead, placing the box you were carrying on the counter to open it. You tried to use the box cutter, but you struggled to make it glide over the cardboard.

“And you're deflecting, I thought we agreed to be honest.” He approached, towering behind you. “Let me do it.” He said, hovering his hand over yours that was holding the box cutter.

Your breath hitched. He was too close; you could feel his breath fanning on the exposed skin at the side of your neck, and if you took half a step back, you would have his chest against your back.

Instead of taking the blade from your hand, he wrapped his hand over yours, applying enough pressure so the blade could cut through the material.

“We need to change the blade,” He mumbled, removing his hand and with it the box cutter. He put the blade next to the box but didn't move; instead, he placed that hand on the counter, half cagging you.

You gulped, suddenly feeling your mouth dry.

“I’m not deflecting.” You tried to make your voice steady, keeping your eyes trained on the box before you, trying your best not to move back.

He chuckled.

“Then answer.” His voice dropped, low and gravely.

You wetted your lips with a glide of your tongue. And in an attempt to appear nonchalant, you turned around, a decision that quickly made itself noted that it was a bad idea.

You had to tilt your head up to look at him. Suddenly, it felt as if the space between you had shrunk. It didn't help that his metal hand landed on the counter too, fully caging you.

“I — I think it will depend.” You choked.

“Of what?” His eyes scanned your face.

“If there's chemistry. And if he wants to.”

The muscle of his jaw jerked.

“What about you? Do you want to?”

“I don't know yet.” You whispered.

“Would you kiss him?” His eyes dropped for a second to your lips, and then went back to your eyes.

“If things led us there." It was the turn of your eyes to focus on his lips, "Sure.”

“If he had you in this position as I do, would you go for it? A kiss?” He asked when you looked back at his eyes.

“Probably.” There was that again, that glance at his lips.

He hummed, his eyes going back to your lips.

If it hadn't been because the counter was supporting you, you were sure that your knees would have given out.

And then he moved, turning around and going back to taking out boxes.

What the fuck was that?

Before your mind could spiral, he talked again, this time from a much safer distance.

“Whatever you let him do, remember that you're also in control. You can say no. Don't take any step if you don't feel comfortable. Don't give a fuck about his expectations.” Bucky said sternly.

“And if you feel that he's pressing you to do anything that you don't want to, or if you just don't want to be there anymore — you can always reach out to have an escape call.”

“My what?”

He said your name, stopping by the doorframe of the storage room. “Please tell me you have talked with your friends. They are arranging a blind date and not even offering to be your escape call?” He sounded offended.

“I’m confused.”

“You know, when you're on a date, and you want to leave because it's boring, uncomfortable, or you just don't want to be there anymore — a friend can call you.”

You shook your head.

“You should tell them.”

You fidgeted with your fingers.

“I can hear the gears inside your head turning. What's the issue?”

“They know this guy. I don't think I’d need an escape call. Besides, it's on a weekend, they're busy with their family plans.”

“Sweetheart, it doesn't matter if you're going on a date with the best bachelor around; you need to have a safety plan.” He said before getting inside the room.

You sighed. He was right.

"Would you do it?" You said.

"Can you repeat that? I didn't hear you." Bucky said, emerging from the room with two boxes in his arms.

"Would you be my escape call if I need it?"

His eyes softened, and he approached you, stopping right in front of you. "Of course, whatever you need."

You mirrored his smile, and, without thinking about it, you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him.

"Thank you, Bucky." You mumbled against his chest.

He reciprocated the hug, resting his head over yours.

"Not a problem. That's what friends are for."

・・・・・

Days with you, Bucky realized, passed by quickly. This arrangement had pulled you both much closer, so much that Bucky dreaded that it was going to be over soon — sure, you would still be friends like you had been since you started working with him, but he really hoped that the easiness and openness with which you had been interacting these past days would remain.

The day had finally arrived; tonight, you would have your date, and he would see if all the advice and practice had paid off. While Bucky did his morning run around the neighborhood, he realized something, a feeling that he had been having these past days, and had grown more frequent, appeared again, a pang in his chest whenever he thought about you being on a date with another man.

The feeling had come previously, building up softly, creeping until it became painful. Each time he noticed the glint in your eyes when you rambled about something that was on your mind, when you would laugh so hard that your whole body swayed and rested on his side, your smile… soon another man would be on the receiving end of it.

His mind went back again to that day that he had you caged against the counter; he had been so close to kissing you, and after your confession… thinking about this unknown man that would be close enough to do what he had stopped himself from doing, to think that he would be able of feel your lips against his, to touch you, and if he got lucky, he would be able to hear his name out of your lips as you came undone.

Jealousy.

Bucky Barnes was jealous.

He wished that you had a good time, purely because he knew you deserved nothing less than that. But a good time meant that you would like whoever was going to be sitting across from you during your date.

Bucky got to his apartment, his mind still building scenarios, and he got to his shower after checking that Alpine had her bowls of food and water full. Hours passed by with him trying to keep his mind occupied, until his phone rang.

"I need your help." You said the moment the facecall connected.

He could only see your face partly as you moved across your apartment. Bucky noticed that your hair was done; you had opted to let your hair down, making it flow with each movement you did — he wanted nothing more than to bury his head in the crook of your neck.

"Hello to you too, what do you need?" He said quickly. Internally cringing to himself at his earnestness.

He saw how you bit your lip, second-guessing your decision to call him in the first place.

Bucky called your name.

"I told you whatever you need, I'm here. Tell me what it is."

You sighed, placing the phone right in front of you so you could see him properly, still only showing your face.

"I just hung up a two-hour call with my friends, I did my hair, and went through my whole closet." You grunted. "I don't have any idea what to wear. Their only advice is cleavage and a miniskirt, but I'm not sure."

"You want me to drive you to the mall?" Bucky glanced at the clock on his wall, "If we hurry up, maybe you can find an outfit."

You chuckled, "I appreciated, but I do think I can make out something out of my clothes, but —" you wetted your lips with the tip of your tongue. "I called you because I want your opinion on my options… you're also a man, I could use your feedback."

"Of course, sweetheart, show me." He said, interrupting your rambling, especially since you were already flushing.

You smiled at him, and then the image became a blur as you placed the phone against something so he could see you from head to toe. He wondered if this was the same angle that you were using with your friends from the quickness with which you set it up.

"Okay, I think you'll be able to see the look." You mumbled as you stepped away from the phone and then spun around. "What do you think?"

You were wearing a white blouse, paired with a pencil skirt that hugged your curves.

He hummed, "Where is said date?"

"It's a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, not too fancy and not too casual." You said.

"Next outfit then, you look like you're on your way to a job interview."

You gasped, offended. "Is the skirt, right?"

He nodded. "Yep. Next, sweetheart."

You exhaled and then disappeared from the frame.

"Ready? This is the next option." You said, stepping in front of the phone.

Bucky had to stop himself from dropping his jaw and making his eyes go full-on cartoon heart eyes. This outfit was simple, but it was so… you. A black top, with a jacket over it, paired with a long skirt — a long skirt with a slit that went up to your thigh.

"Are you there?" You called out when you stopped spinning.

Bucky blinked and cleared his throat. "Yeah, still here, my connection buffered for a second." He lied. "I think that looks perfect. It's very you."

"You think so?" You leaned towards the phone and smiled; that, and the glint in your eyes, was disarming.

He nodded, "Excuse me for a second." He got up from his couch and went to the kitchen. As he served himself a glass of water, Alpine jumped to the counter and meowed at the phone.

"Is that you, Queen Alpine?" You said. "Long time no see, beautiful."

Bucky frowned, "Do you know my cat?"

"Your mom asked me to go feed her when you went out during your vacations." You explained.

"I thought she had done it." He said as he picked up the phone again and returned to his living room.

"She tried, but Alpine kept acting weird. She asked me to go with her, and it turns out your girl loves me. She let me pet her and ate while I was there."

“She’s smart.”

“That she is.” You agreed. “So, this option?”

“I like that one. But it's your choice.”

“Great, it's my pick too. I have to go, now that I know what I'm wearing, I can do my makeup.”

“Remember, if you need to get out of there, call me, no matter what time it is. I’ll be waiting. Text me when you arrive and get home too, please.”

“Will do. Thank you, Bucky.” You said and then sent him a kiss, “Talk to you later, bye!”

And then you were gone.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch.

Did it make him a bad person that he wished you had a bad date only so you could call him and hear your voice again?

At 6:55, his phone buzzed.

You I’m here, apparently he's parking his car. omg he's here

Bucky Good luck You left a heart on his message a beat later. And so his torture began.

Bucky paced around the apartment without much direction. He went to his room and undid and did his bed again, he did his laundry, did the dishes, and started cleaning the apartment — all that with Alpine meowing at him from her spot on the window. Every few minutes, he put his phone out and stared at your text thread.

At 8 pm, he took the keys to his car out of the bowl near the door and put them in his pocket.

“If she needs me, I need to be able to get out quickly.” He said out loud, earning another meow from Alpine, even she could see through his bullshit.

That train of thought made him take a quick shower, change clothes, and put on his shoes.

He wondered if that guy made you laugh.

If he was letting you talk or interrupting you.

If he noticed whenever you wanted to keep talking about something or when you wanted to change topics.

If his eyes dropped to your lips, and if you did the same with his.

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned.

Why the fuck didn't he ask the name of the restaurant? Why didn't he offer to pick you up? Ah, yes, he didn't want to make you think he was a weirdo. Well, now Bucky was suffering the consequences of second-guessing.

By 9:30 pm, he wanted to cry because you hadn't called him yet, and that meant one thing: you were enjoying your date.

And if that was true, that meant that Bucky had lost his chance.

The truth was that Bucky had been harboring feelings for you for what felt like an eternity — even though it had only been less than a year since he had truly interacted with you; he had seen you before, of course, living near and having overlapping time at the same schools. But he was a coward. He liked what you two had, the easy-as-breathing type of friendship, a type of trust and reciprocated respect.

He tried to date other people, only to fully stop a few months ago, once he realized he felt like shit during and after each date. As if each attempt were a direct act of betrayal to you and to his feelings. He had convinced himself that having you as a friend was enough to make his heart stop aching, enough closeness to alleviate his yearning.

And it had been.

Until now.

He buried his face in his hands. He just hoped that this guy, whoever he was, would take care of you, love you the way you deserved.

It was close to ten pm when he gave up and decided to take his pity party to his bedroom. He would stay up until you texted him that you were safe and sound back in your home, but that didn't stop him from throwing himself on his bed and drowning himself in his misery.

He had already said good night to Alpine when he heard someone knocking on his door. Alpine perked her ears and let out a meow.

"Easy, Al, it's probably the neighbor," Bucky said, and then padded to the door.

He opened the door and froze the moment his eyes landed on the person outside.

You.

"Hi, do you mind if I come in?" You said, burying your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.

"Y-yeah, sure, of course, come in." He stuttered and moved aside.

He closed the door behind you.

You whistled, "This place looks and smells good." You said, looking around, then your eyes landed on Alpine. "Hi, Queen!"

Alpine meowed, jumping from her spot at the window and padding to you. You knelt on the floor and brushed your hand over her fur. "Such a pretty girl!"

Bucky was at lost of words, he blinked repeatedly.

Had he gone to sleep, and was this a dream?

"Totally real." You said, standing up and turning around with a smile on your face.

"Did I say it out loud?" Bucky asked.

You nodded, biting your lip and trying to muffle your laugh.

"How was your date?" Bucky wondered, after clearing his throat.

"The date was great, actually." You assured. "His name is Frank, he's a doctor, well, a pediatrician." You added.

"That's good." He croaked, rooted in his spot near the door.

"It is. He's a great guy." You sighed, and then you started pacing around the living room, your eyes scanning the room as you moved around. Bucky could only keep his eyes on you, still confused about what you were doing in his apartment. "The food was amazing. He was a good company too. Your advice helped a lot." You said the last part over your shoulder. "I really felt that the conversation flowed, I felt more confident too."

You turned to see him, and then slowly approached him. "But every single moment I kept thinking about something, and it didn't leave my mind since the moment I hung up our video call."

You stopped a few steps in front of him. "The whole time I kept thinking about another person. I kept comparing his questions to the way he would respond. The way he looked at me." You took a step forward until you had to lift your face to meet his eyes. "The way he made me feel."

"Who did you compare him to?" He whispered.

You tilted your head, a smile pulling the corners of your mouth. "I think you know."

"I — It will really help me if you say it out loud." He said, and you chuckled.

You took another step forward.

"I kept wishing that I was on a date with you." You said softly.

His breath hitched.

"I was wishing the same." He mumbled.

"Thank God, because if you didn't, this whole thing would have been so humiliating."

It was his time to chuckle. His eyes dropped to your lips and back to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

Bucky lifted his hands and grabbed your face. The moment your lips touched, it was as if fireworks went off inside the room. He leaned into you, making you step back until the back of your thighs brushed the couch.

"Bucky," you whimpered against his mouth.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes in an effort to calm himself down. Your breathing was ragged, as well as his.

"We shouldn't…" He choked out, with a pained look on his face, his control hanging by a thread.

"I want to." You said, reaching your hand to cup his cheek. He turned his face slightly, leaving a kiss in your palm and leaning into your touch. "I want you, and I need you, Bucky, only you."

He opened his eyes, his pupils were dilated, black pools of desire stared at you, and you were sure your eyes mirrored his need.

"Please." You begged with a whisper.

"Fuck." He cursed, the thread of control snapping like a twig.

And then he was on you. He kissed you, a possessive hand held you by your waist, pulling you to him as his tongue brushed your lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Your hand traveled over his broad chest and slid under his shirt.

"I want to feel you." You whimpered. "Please."

"Not here. Come on." You thought he was going to move away to guide you, but instead, he braced an arm around your waist and the other under your knees and lifted you, carrying you towards his room.

With your hand, you guided his face back to you, joining your lips into another kiss as he walked blindly with you in his arms. You were lucky that he didn't bump into the wall or stumble during his path to his room. You assisted him, opening the door without breaking the kiss, and once you were inside and he had kicked the door closed, he let you go to lower you.

He removed his shirt, and you took off your jacket, and between kisses and giggles, the clothes pooled on the floor quickly until you were left in only your underwear, lying in the middle of the bed. He stared at you from the foot of the bed, and when he didn't join you in bed, you propped yourself on your elbows.

You felt heat flushing your skin as you realized he was staring at your uncoordinated underwear. The look on his face was pure hunger as he slowly approached. His hands found your ankles and slowly, oh, so slowly, crept up, leaving goosebumps in their way.

"You weren't planning this. Him having you like this." It wasn't a question. His voice was low and husky.

You shook your head.

"Good girl." He grinned and then, in a quick motion, grabbed you and pulled you down the bed. He held your legs open wide as he positioned himself between your legs and knelt on the floor.

You whined as he began kissing your thigh, getting closer and closer to your core, only to retreat and repeat the motion with your other thigh. "You look so beautiful like this. I've been wanting to do this the moment I saw that skirt on you." He said against your skin. "I thought of kissing every single inch of your skin, higher and higher," he left a kiss over your clothed cunt, "until I got here."

He looked up at you and rested his cheek against your thigh. "Would you let me taste you?"

You were panting as his hands traveled up and stopped at your underwear. You nodded, desperate.

"Use your words, baby." He said, and then let a playful bite in exposed skin.

You gasped. "Y-yes, yes, please."

He smiled and left a kiss on your thigh. "Good girl."

The moment his mouth latched onto your core, you moaned his name. His tongue drew circles around your clit, but his eyes remained on you, watching in awe every gasp and reaction his actions caused.

"Such a sweet pussy, and all mine." Your thighs closed around his head, your back arching as he pushed you closer and closer to your climax.

And then he stopped.

He moved away from you. When you lifted your head and looked at him, offended, you found him standing up and stroking his cock, a devil grin on his face.

"I wanna feel you coming around my cock, baby." He purred, dragging the tip of his cock between your folds, your slick mixed with his saliva, making him glide with ease.

"Please." You begged, mewling each time his tip brushed your clit.

"Please, what, sweetheart?"

"Put it inside, mmh."

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He cooed, "Make you mine inside out?"

"Yes, Bucky, yes."

He dragged his cock downwards and then pushed inside you, slowly, letting you accommodate him. "Fuck" He cursed, hanging his head low as he fought the urge to thrust inside you. "Relax, baby." With his thumb, he made tight circles around your clit.

"It's been so long," You said, struggling to take deep breaths as he pushed inside inch by inch.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm gonna take really good care of you."

Once he was buried to the hilt, he leaned to kiss you. You latched onto him, one hand on his back and the other on his nape. Slowly, he started grinding his hips; each stroke brought more and more pleasure, until you were clawing his back. His shallow thrusts grew more desperate until he was pistoning into you with force.

His lips traveled down, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and neck.

"Bucky," you moaned.

"That's it, baby, you're taking me so well." He groaned against your neck.

Your back arched, and you digged your nails into his back.

"I'm…mmph."

"Let go, baby, I got you."

You came with his name on your mouth, locking your legs around him.

"So beautiful, my beautiful, perfect girl." He praised you as he fucked you through your orgasm. "Shit, sweetheart, I need to pull out."

You shook your head. "Cum inside me, please." You pleaded.

"Sweetheart." He furrowed his eyebrows, pushing away his own orgasm by pure will.

"I'm on the pill. I need you, Bucky."

"Fuck." His control snapped like a twig, his rhythm became erratic as he came, and the overwhelming sensation pulled another orgasm out of you, your walls spasming around him. "That's it, baby, take it all. Good girl."

He stayed inside you until your heart stopped hammering in your chest. He collapsed over your body, leaving kisses all over your face that made you giggle.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Bucky asked, bracing his forearm next to your head so he could look you in the eyes.

"Tell me."

"We need to plan a date."

"A date?"

"Yes, baby, it's time that you have the proper date that you deserve." He said, and with his hand, brushed your hair away from your face. "What do you say?"

"I'll love that." You nodded and smiled at him.

"Perfect, you won't regret it."

He left another kiss on your cheek and then buried his face in the crook of your neck, half draped over your body.

"Bucky," you called.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I have a question." He pulled away again.

"Tell me."

"Since you'll be my date… that means that you can't be my escape call, right?"

He huffed a laugh, leaning his head and leaving a playful bite on your shoulder.

"Hey, careful! No wonder Alpine bites everything that crosses her way. She got it from her daddy." He nibbled at your skin again and then, in a quick motion, turned until he was on his back and you were on top of him.

"To answer your question, yes, I can't be your escape call."

"Buu, bummer. You'd better behave on our date then." You mumbled before kissing him.

"I don't know, sometimes misbehaving leads you to wonderful places." He said against your lips as his hand traveled down and grabbed your ass, making your hips jerk and grind over his thigh.

You squealed, "You're trouble, Bucky Barnes."

"So I had been told, but you'll get to love it."

"I think I already do." You whispered.

"Good," He cupped your cheek. "Because I already love you, too."

taglist: @nikkitabarnes @houseofhyde @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @justwantsomeplums @thearchivistshaven @swimmingnightcolor @w1nter-fairy @sassandscribbles @opheliabbarnes @54nboo @buckyfmd @slutforsr @umbreoni @devililithh @colettebarnes @barnesandashes @metal-armed-muse @heldbybarnes @sheriff-bodecker @bckyslover @demiebarnes @amoremarveloustime @kqtholins @spidermanluvr444 @mathcat345 @singulartoast @erina00 @goldiegirl0312 (+ comment on this post to be added to the taglist)

And then there was you. You wore an elegant Water Tribe dress that hugged your body like moonlit water; layers of pale blue and white fabric embroidered with delicate silver patterns shimmered whenever you moved. Your dark hair had been pinned back with carved ornaments, leaving a few soft strands framing your face.

Toph didn't need her sight to know every person in the room had noticed you.

She could feel it. Tiny shifts in weight, hesitations in footsteps, conversations faltering for half a heartbeat whenever you passed nearby.

This much attention directed at you irritated her far more than she wanted to admit.

The evening itself was pleasant. You shared gossip with Katara while admiring the palace gardens visible through the enormous windows. You listened patiently as Aang excitedly explained a restoration project he wanted to begin near one of the old Air Temples. You even sparred verbally with Mai for several minutes before somehow earning the older girl's faintest hint of a smile.

Toph hovered nearby through most of it. Not too close to become obvious; she'd never admit she was following you around the reception hall. Yet keeping close to you had become something of a habit over the past several months. A dangerous one.

Because somewhere between quiet conversations during travels, shared campfires beneath unfamiliar stars, and lingering touches that lasted a second too long, the lines between you and her had started to blur together in something so messy neither of you knew what it was anymore.

It had always happened in secret. Always somewhere no one could catch or interrupt; hidden balconies, empty hallways, quiet corners after everyone else had fallen asleep.

The first kiss had been impulsive. It had happened because of an argument, something about Toph throwing herself face-first into danger with no regard for consequences. She had teased you then, asking with a smirk on her lips if you'd cry if she were to die a glorious death in battle. But there had been no hint of joy in your words when you'd all but whimpered that yes, you very much would. To this day, you didn't know if it was the raw emotion of your words, or if maybe Toph sensed something in your body that even you hadn't known was there. But on that same heartbeat, you'd felt both of Toph's steady hands press against your jaw and pull you into her. The kiss was a little messy and a little too rushed, but it had successfully shut both of you up.

The second had been confusing. You had just saved a small village from local bandits, light work, and yet the residents felt the need to show their gratitude in numbers. A banquet had been organized, with enough wine to quench a small town. The night had stretched into hours deep enough that neither of you could know if you were closer to morning or midnight. And you and Toph had been the only ones remaining under the stars, sitting close together beside a small dying fire. Toph had a bottle in her hand, even if her words were already slurred enough, and your laughter followed hers with the same kind of ease. And it had happened without either of you quite allowing it to. Toph had leaned over you, her body pressing firmly into yours until your back was flush with the cold dirt of the ground. Her strong arms had settled around your head, and her mouth found yours under the haze of wine and the smell of fire smoke. But she had tasted sweet and addictive, enough for your hands to find her waist and bury under her shirt and keep her there with you for another hour or two.

Everything after that had simply become impossible to stop.

And on many occasions, you had tried to bring it up, to talk with her about what exactly the two of you had become. You had tried to understand what all those shared moments behind closed doors meant for you both now. And each time, Toph would dodge the conversation. She'd joke, or she'd change the subject.

Or she'd just lean in and steal another kiss until neither of you remembered what you had been discussing in the first place.

The truth of it, however, ran deeper. You beautifully scared Toph. Each time she walked into rooms hoping to find you, each time she pressed her feet more firmly against the ground only to find the steady pulse of your heartbeat, she was faced with the fact that her own heart had begun beating to the rhythm of your name.

And if she ever allowed you to become truly hers, she would be allowing herself to love you, to admit that she wanted to.

Because by loving her, you held a dagger to her heart. And in loving you back, she would be telling you exactly where to cut.

And that felt much more frightening than pretending nothing had changed.

──∘◎∘──

The feeling started as a vibration. Not on the floor, but in her chest.

Toph tilted her head, hair falling over her pale eyes as she focused her senses. There was something out of place, something that didn't belong next to you.

Across the ballroom, you were speaking with Zuko. Nothing unusual, you had become good friends over the years. But then you laughed, and Zuko laughed too. He leaned closer to hear you over the music, and you lightly touched his arm while making another joke.

To everyone else, it looked perfectly innocent.

To Toph, every tiny movement echoed through the polished stone beneath her feet. She sensed exactly how you gripped Zuko's arm, leaning closer to him until your forehead nearly touched his shoulder. Toph felt your footsteps angle toward him. Felt Zuko mirror your stance and step a little closer. Felt you standing close enough to him that your heartbeats nearly aligned in Toph's perception.

Her own heart twisted painfully. Something hot and ugly settled heavily in her stomach, and she nearly shattered the wine glass she held between her fingers.

Toph didn't like this. Not one bit.

Before she realized what she was doing, she was already walking. Her footsteps quick and purposeful, pushing her way past the crowd without a care when people grumbled about her lack of politeness.

She reached your side, caught you gently but firmly by the wrist, and without a word, pulled you away.

A small gasp of surprise escaped you when you were suddenly snatched away from the conversation. Nearly tripping over your own feet, you struggled to keep up with Toph's fast pace. "Toph?" You called as she guided you between guests. "What happened? Is something wrong?"

There was no answer. All you could do was watch Toph's raven-dark hair bounce over her shoulders as she walked; loose for once, maybe because you had once told her how much you loved it when she allowed those long dark strands to frame her face.

Toph guided you through one of the quieter corridors, branching away from the party. She tucked you both away in a shadowed corner, just shy of the prying eyes of the other guests.

Toph pushed against your chest with a calculated shove. You stumbled backwards and had to suppress what would have been an embarrassing yelp when your back suddenly hit the wall with a muffled thud, instead settling for grasping onto Toph's waist tightly, the fabric of her suit jacket twisting in your hands. Her muscular arms caged you there in an instant, her hands settled against the wall on either side of you, instinctively creating a small world that belonged only to the two of you.

"Toph?" You asked in a breathless hush, watching the outline of her features under the dim light spilling from the party just a few steps around the corner.

The hallway was empty. The music became distant. The moment you were alone, Toph pressed her whole body against yours, solid and warm, one leg between both of yours as her arms kept your face in place.

Your lips met in a kiss that carried every ounce of emotion she'd been trying to bury for months. It wasn't careful. It wasn't hesitant. It was the kiss of someone desperate to reassure herself that the person in front of her was still there.

Toph's hands moved to settle against your jaw, her thumbs pressing into your cheeks and pulling you painfully close. She caught your lower lip between both of hers, lightly tugging on it with her teeth before she slowly soothed it with her tongue.

And your head was spinning as breathing wasn't your brain's priority. Your fingers sneaked under the hem of Toph's shirt, finding the defined curve of her waist and running your nails over the skin there; it gave beneath your touch, pliant under your hands as if she'd been made for your touch alone.

The feeling of Toph pressed so closely against you was near dizzying. Her presence was all-consuming; it felt like white noise and being submerged underwater all the same time—it was the feeling of her soft, insistent lips on yours, and the way you could feel her pulling in a deep breath before a raspy groan came from the back of her throat and she was leaning forward again. Whatever it was that kept you tied to her, you embraced it.

Toph kissed you sweet, warm and tasting like expensive wine; inebriating in the way she pulled you impossibly close to her as if feeling the beat of your heart flush against her own was the only thing keeping her afloat.

When she finally pulled back for a moment, as her lungs ached for air, a fresh wave of heat rushed through you at the sight of Toph; the woman's cheeks unmistakably flushed, her lips swollen with a faint smear of your dark lipstick decorating them prettily. Small cracks in the usually so confident and unbreakable earthbending master.

Your chest heaved as it caught up with the lack of air, and you blinked several times to focus back on reality. "W-What…" Your voice stumbled, hands still buried deep under Toph's shirt. "Toph, what the hell was that about?"

She hesitated, gasping for air just as much as you. She angled her head away from you, running her tongue over her bottom lip and still tasting you there. "You and Sparky." Was all she grumbled.

A scoff escaped you before you could bite it back. "Zuko?!"

"You were all…" Toph gestured vaguely before settling her hands against the wall again, as if she wasn't willing to let you go just yet. "…cozy together."

Your mouth fell agape as confusion slowly painted your features. You removed one hand from under Toph's shirt in order to push strands of hair away from her pale eyes. Your fingers traced the edge of her eyebrow as you did so, until you reached behind her ear and softly tangled your touch between the silky strands of her dark hair. Toph timidly leaned into your hand.

"I was just talking with him," you reasoned eventually.

There was a huff, and suddenly she was pulling away as if your hand had burned her. "You touched him." Toph spat the words, "More than once."

You stared at her for long seconds before understanding finally settled across your features. "Toph…"

"I didn't like it." She snapped, sharper than she'd meant it to be.

Silence stretched between you. Your brows scrunched with indignation, and you took hold of both her wrists, decidedly pushing her arms down and holding her there.

And Toph let you, partly frustrated with how easily you disarmed her.

"You don't get to be jealous." Your voice was even; a quiet, bittersweet finality wrapped around it sent a rush of cold dread to Toph's stomach.

A humorless chuckle fell past Toph's lips. "What?"

"You heard me." Though your voice didn't hold half the conviction it needed for what you were trying to establish, you still pressed on. "You… don't get to act like I'm yours whenever someone else gets close." The words hurt you as much as they did her; they rolled off your tongue like sharp razors because you wished you didn't have to say them at all.

Toph opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She shook one hand free of your grasp, trying to reach for your cheek. Unable to find the right words, she leaned forward, hoping another kiss might somehow communicate everything she couldn't say aloud.

You pushed her hand away.

"I've wanted us to be together for months," you continued quietly, shaking your head and looking away from her lest your words tangle in themselves. "I've waited because I know this vulnerability scares you."

Toph's shoulders stiffened, and she took a step back as if to brace herself for a blow. "Stop it." Her heart was too loud in her ears, and her hands grew clammy; it felt as if sand had swallowed her feet because Toph's senses were all jumbled up.

"But every time I try to talk about us…" You whispered, and then paused as your thumb, which was still pressed against Toph's wrist, caught on the rapid beating of her pulse. You inhaled sharply, trying to push away the what-ifs. "…you avoid it."

Another silence stretched, hovering like a dark cloud.

"You only kiss me when nobody can see." Despite your voice almost being carried away by the distant music coming from the party, each quiet word landed heavier than the last. "It started making me wonder if you were embarrassed or… or ashamed of me."

Toph's face did something complicated, and she slipped back behind her defenses, crossing her arms over her chest like a barrier between you. "That's nonsense." She shrugged halfheartedly, blowing away a long strand of her hair that had fallen over her nose. It didn't go very far, the end of it catching on the corner of her mouth. "It couldn't be further from the truth."

You pursed your lips, still sensitive from the kiss of mere minutes ago. She was stubborn like that, you knew well, even when you could see her fingers tapping her arm rhythmically, as if she needed the motion to keep her busy and from doing something a little reckless.

"Then prove it." You tugged your messy hair free from its updo, allowing it to fall over your bare shoulders and hopefully hide the pink flush of your cheeks. "Just… tell me this means something for you, at least."

Toph seemed to sense the motion, her head angled back toward you. And her lips parted momentarily, as if she were ready to curse her lack of sight for keeping her from seeing you properly. Her fingers tightened their grip on her own arm, breath running shallow.

She said nothing.

A beat passed, then two. You closed your eyes, feeling something cold settle on your chest.

You nodded slowly, "I'm going back to the party."

And then you were gone. And Toph felt the absence like her heart had just been carved out of her chest.

──∘◎∘──

The palace gardens were quiet; moonlight spilled across smooth stone paths and sleeping flowers.

Toph sat alone on the edge of a fountain, her bare feet dipping into the water and causing ripples that reflected the moon's hazy glow. She gripped the stone of the border; it crackled under her frustration.

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was too quiet. She remembered your lips, the warmth she'd always leaned toward without thinking. The softness of your laugh. The steady rhythm of your heartbeat whenever you stood close together—a rhythm Toph knew better than anyone else.

She had memorized it without realizing. She could probably pick out your heartbeat from hundreds of people. And she did. Each time you fought side by side, half of her senses were tuned to your pulse all the time. When you lie down to sleep under the stars, Toph counted your heartbeats until sleep took her over. Even when she had her mouth on yours, leaving you breathless and causing that same beat to quicken under her hands, she followed it; she let it guide her, she allowed your heart to tell her where to touch, where to press her mouth a little firmer to get the reaction she wanted.

The realization struck Toph all at once and almost had her slipping deeper into the fountain. She didn't simply enjoy being around you. She had built pieces of herself around you.

Around your voice, your kindness, your terrible jokes, your stubborn optimism, your heartbeat that guided her own.

And the thought of losing that… it hollowed something inside her so completely that she nearly felt nauseous.

No, she wasn't afraid of loving you. She was afraid of admitting just how completely she already did. And that fear had nearly cost her everything.

Toph stood, leaving damp footprints behind her as she rushed back inside the palace.

For once in her life, she knew exactly what she wanted.

──∘◎∘──

Conversation filled the ballroom once more as Toph returned. Picking up a thousand different shapes and voices and vibrations with her senses so suddenly almost made her dizzy.

With a quiet groan past her lips, Toph forced herself to focus. She eased her breathing, frowning slightly as she travelled the entire room in a single moment. And she immediately sensed that her friends all stood together near the center of the hall.

You were there, too, laughing at something Sokka had said while Katara halfheartedly pushed at her brother's shoulder, balancing a drink in her other hand.

Without hesitation, Toph walked straight toward them with newfound confidence, once again pushing her way through the crowd. She didn't bother with words; they were never her strong suit anyway. Toph simply found your hand, interlacing your fingers together, and gently pulled you closer to her.

The room seemed to hold its breath alongside you. Aang stopped mid-sentence, Sokka's eyebrows shot upward, Katara nearly dropped her drink, and even Zuko seemed pleasantly surprised.

Your breath hitched with a poorly hidden gasp when Toph's free hand settled decidedly on your waist, pulling your body more completely against hers. "T-Toph," her name stumbled past your lips as you felt heat creeping up your neck when the stares of everyone around you turned in your direction, "I just said-"

Toph didn't care; she shut you up the moment her mouth collided with yours. The hand resting on your waist shifted up, tracing a path over the fabric of your dress and holding you more firmly against her. The kiss was not hidden behind closed doors. Not stolen in secret. Not something to be denied tomorrow morning. It was a real thing, out in the open and under the eyes of hundreds of people. One that said everything she'd been too frightened to speak, now displayed louder than a scream.

Toph's hair tickled your cheek when she leaned into you, letting go of your hand so she could bring her palm to your jaw as if she were trying to see the shape of you in every conceivable way.

When you finally parted, Toph remained close enough that her nose still brushed yours. And her thumb reached to trace the outline of your lower lip, as if to make sure you weren't just a daydream. When Toph spoke, you felt the shape of her words against your lips; "You're mine," she whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "And I want everyone to know that."

Air left your lungs all over again. Your hands clutched at the lapel of Toph's suit jacket, holding onto her because you weren't sure your knees could keep you standing right now. "I… I think you made it pretty clear to everyone here." A chuckle escaped you, feeling faint with the way she loved on you.

Toph bit at the edge of her lips as if it took every ounce of her strength to hold herself back from claiming your mouth with hers again and again. Instead, she settled for leaning in and giving a peck to the corner of your lips, before pushing further until her voice was close to your ear, "Good."

A few steps beside you, Sokka had a large grin on his face as he elbowed Zuko and extended his palm, wiggling his fingers. "I told you it would work. Hand it over."

With a huff, Zuko dropped a few gold pieces into Sokka's hand and gave his friend an unamused side-eye. "You'll be the one emptying your pockets when I get the day of their wedding right."

Toph ignored every reaction in the room. The only heartbeat she cared about was the one standing right in front of her.

And now, she had no intention of ever pretending otherwise.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆･

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