#complete series

Your stomach churns and you nod, looking down at your lap.

"What?" She asks you, taking a few steps closer. "Are you really that nervous to see him?"

"I haven't seen him since..." You trail off, shaking your head.

"Then maybe it's about time you did," She says bluntly. "I mean, for Christ's sake, it's been what? Three years?"

"I know, but..." You mumble, feeling dumb. "It's weird. We were together for such a short period of time, and now we've spent so much time apart... but I still-"

"Don't," Gwen cuts you off curtly. "I swear to God, don't say it."

"I wasn't gonna say love," You claim. "I just mean, I won't know how I feel until I see him."

"Well, then," She chirps. "Good thing both of you brought dates."

"He brought a date?" You ask, feeling nauseous at the thought of seeing him with someone else.

"Mhm," Gwen confirms. "But you have Pietro, so you're both in the same boat, which is good.

"Yeah," You utter dryly. "Great."

Gwen stretches before holding her hand out to you. "C'mon, we need to get ready. If we miss dinner again, Sharon will make me sleep on this beach," She says before grabbing your hand and pulling you up to your feet.

The two of you make your way back to the resort, but this time, you're no longer zen. You're a bundle of nerves.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, you turn to the side to get a look at yourself at all angles. Ever since your conversation with Gwen on the beach, you've felt a pit in your stomach and it's weighing you down, making you want to do nothing more than crawl into bed and hide from the world.

There's a knock at the door which makes you jump slightly, before it swings open. "Hey, you," Pietro says as he walks in with a grin. "You look incredible."

Relaxing a little with his presence, you smile at him in the mirror. "Thank you, P," You reply. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yep - just need to use the bathroom," He says as he walks towards it.

"Ugh, please don't clog it again!" You call out as he walks past you.

With a sly grin and a squeeze of your ass, he swings open the door. "I won't," He swears as he walks in, and you know better than to believe him.

"Why do I fuck you, again?" You call out, shaking your head.

Pietro opens the door again and pokes his head through. "Because I'm a damn good fuck, baby," He says with a wink. "Your words."

Rolling your eyes, you fiddle with your hair. "Whatever. Go poop - and hurry, because Sharon will kill me if I'm late!"

While you wait for him, you sit on the bed and decide to scroll through social media. You notice that Steve's got a new story up, so with a soft smile you open it up, expecting to see a photo of him and Sharon - but it's a photo of a gift-wrapped box with a Rolex on top of it. Gift from the best man, the caption reads. With a gasp, you close Instagram and put your phone down. And immediately, you hate how affected you are, just from a mere mention of him.

Fuck, you're screwed.

"I'm ready!" Pietro announces as he walks back out the bathroom.

"Did you wash your ha-"

"Yes, I washed my hands," He cuts you off with a laugh as he walks over and takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet. Moving in closer, he gives you a soft kiss. "You really do look so fucking good."

"No," You say sternly. "I refuse to be late to this dinner, P."

He tilts his head, giving you the soft-eyed, ever-so-slightly-desperate look he knows drives you crazy. "Gimme ten minutes, baby," He mumbles.

You narrow your eyes at him and push him back. "No. You'll mess up my hair and makeup," You whine.

"C'mere," He whispers before kissing you, once, twice, three times.

You melt into it, allowing yourself the respite of his physical comfort from your overthinking head, but then your mind conjures up the image of Sharon's pissed-off expression, which is enough motivation to give you the strength to pull away. "Let's go," You decide firmly. "It's Sharon's wedding week. I'm not gonna stress her out anymore than she already is."

Giving in with a sigh, he nods and takes a step back. "Alright," He says, following you to the door. "Have I told you how sexy you are when you're being all considerate for your friends, and shit?"

The resort has been booked out in its entirety by Steve and Sharon for the week, allowing them to spend a few days with their nearest and dearest before the big day on Saturday. So far, Sharon's been spending the days with her bridesmaids, Steve with his groomsmen, and each evening, everyone comes together to have dinner. It's been fine so far, but today's the first night that all the groomsmen are here - which has you almost shaking as you and Pietro make your way to the dining hall.

"What's wrong? Nervous to see everyone?" Pietro asks you as your heels click against the marble floor. "You've already met 'em all before, right? Oh, wait, shit. Isn't your ex here tonight?"

He swings the doors to the hall open and, of course, it seems you're the last ones to arrive. Thankfully, Sharon doesn't look annoyed in the slightest, as everyone turns to look at you.

"They're here!" Sharon squeals, standing up with her glass of wine raised up. "Come in, sit down!"

Pietro's got his arm around your waist, so when he begins to walk in, even though your feet feel planted to the ground, you can't help but move with him. But your eyes stayed glued to him.

Bucky.

It's like time slows down. He looks so different, but also exactly the same. And he's staring back at you. A small part of you is acutely aware of the beautiful woman sitting by his side, but everyone else melts away into irrelevance when you're looking at him. It's the first time in three years that you've been so close to him - sitting at opposite ends of a 25-seat table - but it feels as familiar as though no time has passed at all.

"Red or white tonight?" Steve asks you as he stands up to pour you a glass of wine.

Ripping your eyes away from Bucky and looking up at Steve, you let out a huff. "Brown," You reply curtly before grabbing a bottle of whisky from the middle of the table and pouring it into your glass.

Steve chuckles before pouring Pietro some wine, and you take a long sip. Next to you, Gwen gently nudges your stomach. "Way to be subtle," She hisses under her breath. "You guys just stared at each other for, like, five minutes."

"Shut up," You whisper, before you smile widely at Sharon who's sitting opposite you. "You look amazing, Shar!"

And she really does - this whole week, she's been glowing. "Thank you," She sings, still standing. Clearing her throat, she taps her glass of water with her fork, getting everyone's attention. "Alright. Everyone is officially here! Besides, like, our family, and everyone else," She begins with a soft laugh. "Steve and I are so, so grateful that you've all taken time out of your incredibly busy schedules to come and spend the last few days before the wedding with us. Ever since Steve and I started talking about getting married, we really had only one priority - to have a relaxed time with our best friends. Mexico has always meant so much to him and I - ever since the school trip episode of Sunset Lake, and all the times we returned together since - so it only felt right to get married here. In four days, Steve and I will be standing at the altar, with all of you there- but until then, we can eat, relax, get pampered, and party!"

Everyone holds up their respective glasses and cheers along with her, and Steve stands up and gives her a kiss. You grin as you watch them, so entirely in love. It makes you yearn for that feeling. Sure, sleeping with Pietro is fun and fulfils your needs, but you haven't felt a deeper connection to anyone since... Bucky.

You dare to steal a glance at him. He's pouring his date a drink- you recognize her. She's from some TV show that was big on Netflix or Hulu last year. Not his usual type, but then again, he's been linked with all sorts of women over the past three years. And he could say the same about you.

Before long, the food is served, so you can distract yourself with hummus and pita. You have conversations with Sharon and Steve, Gwen and Peter, and a few hushed comments fly between you and Pietro, but as it's such a big group, you can't venture out much further than them. Not that you particularly want to.

She finds him funny, that much is for sure. She pulls him arm whenever he makes her laugh, which is often.

"Her name's Jean," Gwen tells you, knowing you too well to not realize what it is you're thinking. "They work together. They've been spotted out at dinner a few times since."

"I feel sick," You utter, grabbing your napkin.

"Don't worry- you have Pietro, so you're on equal ground with him right now," Gwen says in an attempt to comfort you - as if the thing you're upset about is that Bucky is one-upping you.

"Pietro is nothing more than a human dildo to me," You whisper bitterly. "Bucky's actually dating that woman. With emotions."

"That's mean," Pietro chimes in as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, resting his chin on your other shoulder.

"Shut up. You're lucky I let you anywhere near me," You say to him with an eye-roll.

He bites down on his fist and leans in closer to Gwen with his head at your chest. "Isn't she so sexy?" He says lowly, to which she just snorts.

While everyone else continues chatting and drinking, you can't help but fall into the darkest depths of your mind.

He doesn't want you anymore. He probably hasn't for a while. You wonder how long it took him to officially be over you. You thought you might have been starting to get over him until you saw him tonight. All the feelings just came rushing back, hitting you like a truck. The last thing you wanted all those years ago was to become a stranger to him- but it seems like it might be too late.

Suddenly, you feel a kick under the table. You frown and look up to see Sharon giving you a pointed look as she taps her phone. While Gwen and Pietro chat, you look down at your phone to see a message from Sharon.

SharBear

I need to meet you tonight once everyone's in their rooms. Midnight outside reception. It's important. Please!

Without hesitation, you respond.

You

I'll be there.

Your mind is swirling with all the things Sharon could possibly want to speak to you about - has something gone wrong with the wedding plans? Has she suddenly got cold feet? You pace at reception for ten minutes before she finally appears.

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry, I was waiting for Steve to get into the shower," She says in a hushed voice as she rushes over from the elevator and grabs your hands. "Thank you for meeting me."

"Of course, Sharon," You say, deeply concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's perfect!" She replies instinctively with a chirpy smile, before letting out a sigh and letting her face fall. "But... it might not be."

"What's going on?" You ask her, pulling her away from the worker at the front desk who's giving you odd looks and towards the entrance of the hotel.

She looks around the lobby, making sure nobody's around before she speaks. "I need... I need you to buy me something," She utters.

You frown as you lower your voice. "Like... drugs?" You whisper. "Something to help you relax? Pietro might have a xanny-"

"No, not like that," She cuts you off with a mild look of panic in her eyes as they meet yours. "I need, um... I think I need a pregnancy test?"

Up until now, you would've liked to think that you'd be the calm, collected friend during crises. That you'd be the level-headed leader keeping everyone's panic at bay, coming up with an action plan and swiftly carrying it out without fault. But instead, you suck in a loud gasp and slap your hands over your face. "Sharon!" You let out, your yell muffled by your hands.

"I know, I know, it's crazy," She says as she shakes her hands. "It's just so I can be sure, before I drink myself into oblivion this week."

"That's why you haven't been drinking," You say with wide eyes as everything falls into place in your head. "And you didn't eat the edibles yesterday!"

"I'm just being careful, until I can be sure," Sharon says. "Now, you're my best friend and the one I trust most out of everyone here. I can't trust the resort workers not to leak it to the press, so I can't ask them or even order one online in case they snoop. So it has to be you, Y/N."

Taking in a deep breath, you nod, accepting the responsibility. "Yes. I can do this," You tell her, keeping your voice firm. "I can do this for you."

"Great. There's a pharmacy about a mile away, it's open twenty-four hours. Steve and I stopped there when we landed, to get... condoms," She says, wincing.

"Yes, got it," You say, trying to remain calm. "I'll call a taxi and-"

"No public transport," She cuts in quickly. "Everyone in this city knows the wedding is this week. They all know we're here. If a cab driver recognizes you - I can't handle the scandal, Y/N."

"So what do you want me to do?" You ask her, shaking your head. "It's not like I can walk a mile in the middle of the night!"

Just then, someone walks into the hotel. It's, of course, none other than Bucky, holding a motorcycle helmet under his arm. You can practically see the cogs turning in Sharon's head as she looks at him.

"Sharon, no. No, Sharon," You say gravely, holding her arms tight. But it's too late.

"Bucky!" She calls out, making you die inside.

"Hey," He replies, while you stare at the floor. "What are you both doing down here so late?"

"We, um, have a little issue," She tells him. "Just a little visit from Aunt Flo, you know?"

"Oh, right," He mumbles, and you can't help but feel a shiver at the sound of his voice. Get it together.

"Yeah, so... would you be able to give Y/N a lift to a pharmacy?" She asks him while you grimace. "So she can stock up on tampons, and stuff."

"Sure," Bucky replies. "Let's go."

"Thank you so much!" Sharon exclaims, giving him a hug before coming back to you and placing her hands on your shoulder. "And thank you. I love you."

"You're lucky I love you, too," You mutter, before turning to face him.

He holds the helmet out to you and you take it before following him out, shooting Sharon one last glare on your way.

"So, the pharmacy?" Bucky asks as he taps on his phone.

"Yeah, Sharon said there should be one about a mile away?" You respond, your voice pathetically small.

"Got it. Let's go," He says while sticking his phone with the map on on the handlebar and getting on the bike.

You take in a deep breath before putting on the helmet and getting on behind him, planning to hold onto the handles located behind you for the entirety of the ride - but the second he rides off, you instantly clamber to wrap your arms around him. It may be awkward, but you'd rather that than die before the wedding.

The ride is quiet, save for the sound of the engine. The streets are pretty bare, being in a less-populated area, and the sky is full of stars. After a few minutes, you take off your helmet so as to feel the fresh air on your face, and to get a proper view of the starry night. Soon, you arrive at the pharmacy, and Bucky parks up outside. When you jump off and he sees you without the helmet on, he sighs.

"I would really rather you keep that on during the ride," He says lowly.

"Sorry," You utter, slowly backing away towards the shop. "Want anything?"

He simply shakes his head, and you nod before turning and walking into the pharmacy. Thankfully, there's a box of face masks at the entrance so you grab one and wear it. The man at the counter doesn't seem the type to keep up with celebrity news, but you want to do all you can to keep things under wrap. You walk through the aisles until you get to the shelves with pregnancy tests, and decide to grab one of each of the five brands available, knowing Sharon's the type to want to double and triple check. Along with the tests, you grab a chapstick, for no other reason than to make it feel like a normal shopping trip, though the combination of Sharon's news and being back on Bucky's bike has you feeling like you're having an out-of-body experience.

Just as you put the tests and chapstick on the counter, you feel a presence behind you. You turn your head to see Bucky standing there, holding a bag of chips. And his eyes are on the tests.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Without a word, you toss four ₱500 notes on the counter and take the plastic bag from the worker before stuffing in the tests and chapsticks and walking out the store. When you get out, all you want to do is scream. He thinks you're pregnant, or at least potentially so. And you can't even correct him because then you'd be outing Sharon. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Ready to go?" He asks as he walks out of the pharmacy, as casual as ever. Fucker.

"You're so annoying!" You can't help but explode at him once you rip the mask off your face.

Taken aback, he raises a brow. "Excuse me?"

"If you wanted fucking chips, why didn't you just ask me to buy you chips?" You ask him, frustration dropping from your tone.

"What is your problem?" Bucky asks you, taking a step closer.

"I clearly asked you if you wanted anything, and you said no," You hurl at him.

"I changed my mind," He says flatly.

"You changed your mi- you're such a dick," You hiss, turning away.

"Will you calm down?" He calls out. "It's... not a big deal!"

"Not a big deal?" You all but scream, turning back to him. He thinks you could be pregnant with Pietro's baby. He thinks you're that close - that you'd be that reckless because you're that locked in with fucking Pietro. And he doesn't seem to care.

"Yes, it's not a big deal," He doubles down.

"Whatever," You huff before spinning back on your heel and storming away.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice booms behind you, but you're too irritated to think or act rationally. You simply continue stomping away, too stubborn to accept a ride back to the resort with him. Safety be damned. You have pregnancy tests and chapstick to defend yourself with.

The rumbling of his bike gets louder and after a few seconds, he pulls up next to you. "Get on the damn bike, Y/N," He orders you sternly.

"Fuck you," You spit, walking even faster.

He trails slowly behind you, his bike swaying side to side as he does his best to keep the slow pace. "You're going the wrong way, dipshit," He says, and it feels like the air turns twenty degrees colder.

The old nickname makes you falter in your steps, but you continue moving. "Maybe I'm taking the scenic route," You utter.

He speeds up for a second before turning his bike in front of you, stopping you from going any further. With a glare, he lets out a huff through his nostrils. "Get on the bike. I'm tired, and I don't have time for this," He says curtly.

"Then go back to the hotel and get in bed," You say with your arms folded across your chest. "I'm sure Jean's waiting for you."

Bucky narrows his eyes at you. "What, are you jealous?" He asks, to which you scoff.

"You wish!" You all but yell. "Just go. I'll call an Uber."

"It's almost 1am. I'm not letting you get a cab alone," He says bluntly. "Get on the bike, we'll go back to the hotel, and we can pretend like this night didn't happen."

A dry laugh leaves your mouth of its own accord. "I've heard that before," You mutter bitterly.

Without a word, he holds the helmet out to you. You roll your eyes before grabbing it off him and getting on the bike, as much as it pains you to give in. This time, even though you're terrified, you keep your hands firmly on the handles behind you, refusing to let him think you want to touch him. Although it hurts to be back at square one with him, it's easier to focus on being annoyed at him than to realize he's over you.

Once you get back to the resort, you clamber off the bike and pull the helmet off, putting it down where you were sitting. He sits and types on his phone.

"Thanks for the ride," You mumble like a child being forced to show manners.

He just grunts in response.

The next morning at breakfast, you're inwardly stressing as you try to find the perfect opportunity for you to transport the five pregnancy tests in your bag to Sharon's without anyone seeing.

"Y/N, sit down!" Gwen calls out before grabbing your hand and yanking you down onto the empty seat next to her.

You give her a smile. "I actually just need to speak to Shar-"

"Eat first," She cuts you off sternly as she places a pastry onto your plate.

"Ooh, those look good," The person sitting on the other side of you comments. You turn to see none other than Bucky's date, Jean. "Could you please hand me one?"

Of course she's lovely and polite. Fuck's sake.

"Sure," You reply with a smile as you grab the platter and hold it out to her.

She grabs a square croissant and puts it on her plate with a bashful look. "Thank you. God, this is so surreal," She says with flushed cheeks. "I'm just, like, a huge fan of you."

Damn. She's making it really hard to hate her.

"That's so sweet, thank you," You reply.

"It's just crazy being in a room, practically on vacation, with a group of people I look up to," She continues with awe in her eyes. "Oh, I'm Jean, by the way. I... I'm here with... uh..."

"It's alright. I know you're Bucky's date," You tell her with a soft laugh. "I'm not sweating over a six-month situationship I had three years ago, don't worry."

A throat clear behind you. "Morning, everyone," Bucky says, squeezing her shoulders before taking a seat next to her.

"Oops," You whisper to yourself.

"Morning, sunshine," Jean greets him sweetly with a kiss on his cheek before she turns back to you. "So, I have to ask you: what was it like working with the Norman Osborn? Was it everything I dream about?"

"Oh, and more," You answer her emphatically. "He's just... a genius. It sounds cliché, but that's really the only way I can describe him. Being on set with him alone was flabbergasting, but being directed by him? I genuinely felt like a new woman every day. A new actress, should I say."

"Wow. I am so jealous," Jean says. "And the movie was incredible. You're gonna think I'm lying, but I literally watched it in theatres, like, twelve times."

"So, you're who I need to thank for the box office success," You say teasingly.

"You were so robbed at the Oscars this year," She says with a scoff. "Like, I know the other nominees were great, but none of them held a candle to your performance."

"I was just grateful to be nominated," You tell her, giving her the PR-approved response.

She narrows her eyes, leans in, and lowers her voice. "Yeah, but you were also thinking, what the fuck? Right?" Jean whispers. "Don't worry, it's a safe space."

With a delighted laugh, you lightly push her arm. "Of course not," You say, before whispering, "Maybe."

After spending the entirety of breakfast laughing non-stop with Bucky's girlfriend, much to the surprise of everyone, you soon become acutely aware of the tests in your bag.

As everyone gets up to return to their rooms and freshen up before the day's activities, you pull Sharon to a quiet corner. "Hey," You whisper. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," She answers with a quick nod. "Haven't vomited today, but we'll see how long breakfast lasts."

"Uh, I've got the... things," You utter, giving her a pointed look as you shake your bag.

"Oh! Yeah, great, thank you so much," She says, holding your hands. "How was it with Bucky? I hope it wasn't too awkward? He didn't see, did he?"

Opting not to tell her about how he saw you buying the tests and how you subsequently screamed at him in the street, you nod. "It was fine," You lie. "Do you want them now?"

"Yes," She says, holding her bag open next to yours. "Just... don't be suspicious."

Trying to act casual, angling your bags so that nobody behind can see them, you slowly transport the tests one by one from your bag to hers.

"Fuck, how many did you get?" She asks with wide eyes.

"I figured you'd want to be really sure," You tell her with a shrug as you drop the last one in.

A smile breaks out on her face. "You know me so well," She says, pulling you in for a hug. "Thank you. You're the best."

"Do you wanna take one now?" You ask as you pull away. "I can come with you."

"I'm gonna wait until tomorrow," She tells you. "When Mom's here. I need her with me in case it's... yeah."

"Of course," You say with an understanding nod, though the sentiment doesn't reach your heart. Not having a mom in your life means if you were in Sharon's position, it would be her or Gwen you needed by your side - and for some twisted reason, it has you feeling bitter that you wouldn't be their chosen pregnancy-test aide. You know it's irrational and unfair to feel that way, but you can't help it.

"Okay, let's go back to everyone before they wonder what we're talking about," Sharon chirps as she takes your arm and leads you back to the group.

Jean gasps and rushes over to you when she sees you. "Hey, have you been to the spa yet?" She asks you excitedly.

"I haven't, actually," You tell her. "Been too busy helping Sharon out with wedding stuff."

"You have to come," She says, grabbing your hand. "They are incredible here. Bring Pietro, too - it can be like a double date at the spa!"

Realizing that that means Bucky will also be there, you falter. "Uh, I don't know if Pietro will-"

"If Pietro will what?" The man himself  asks as he appears, hugging you from behind.

"Oh, we were talking about spending some time at the spa," Jean tells him. "You're down, right?"

"Absolutely," He answers.

"So, it's settled!" She exclaims with a giddy grin. "We'll meet you there in an hour."

"Can't wait," You say half-heartedly.

You all but melt into the warm hot tub, closing your eyes and letting all your stress go with the steam. Pregnancy tests. Exes. Forget it all.

"Mind if I join?" An all too familiar voice asks.

Opening your eyes, you see Bucky stepping down into the tub. "Doesn't seem like I have a choice," You mutter.

There's a few moments of blissful silence, and you close your eyes again, electing to pretend as though he isn't there. The sound of Pietro and Jean racing laps in the swimming pool fades into the background, and all you can hear is the bubbles fizzing-

"So, a six-month situationship, huh?" Bucky abruptly cuts into your thoughts. "That's how you look at it?"

You let out a deep sigh, refusing to let him bait you into giving him a reaction. "What else would you call it?" You ask him.

He doesn't answer, but you're not foolish enough to think that's the end of the conversation. "So, you pregnant?" He asks bluntly.

"No," You reply.

"Took all five tests?"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Were you always this childish?" You ask, opening your eyes to glare at him. "I'm none of your business anymore, Barnes. I haven't been for three years."

He's staring at you. "A heads-up would've been nice," He says bitterly. "Y'know, that 'see you later' actually meant fuck you, I'm done."

"I wasn't done," You correct him gravely. "Though you obviously were."

"Are you kidding me?" He asks with a dry laugh.

"Oh, sorry, all the times you tried so hard to contact me must've got lost in the mail," You say flatly.

"Contact you? And when was the best time? When you were dating your co-star while filming in Australia? Or maybe when you came back and started dating those other schmucks?" He spits.

"You cannot be serious," You say gravely. "Says Mr. 'Dating Three Women At Once'!"

"Really? You of all people believe what the media said?" Bucky asks incredulously.

"Oh, fuck you!" You yell, standing up.

"Fuck you," He returns just as harshly, standing up as well.

He's looking down at you with a look in his eyes you haven't seen since you first met - that day on Steve's yacht when you first debuted your fake relationship to the world. It sends a shiver down your spine. Full of rage and seemingly genuine hatred - and it makes you want to kiss him.

Bucky tries to stay strong, but his eyes betray him, flickering down to look at your drenched, bikini-clad body, the same body he's been missing for three years. He remembers all the places he left marks, and all the places he kissed it better.

"I never forgot how I felt," He says in a hushed, rushed tone.

"You didn't even blink at the possibility of me being pregnant with another man's child," You point out coldly.

"Listen to me," He utters, grabbing your wrist. "I thought about you every single minute. I still do."

"Bucky, shut up," You whisper, highly aware of both Pietro and Jean making their way over.

"Tell me you don't feel the same," He challenges you. "Tell me you don't want anymore. That you don't love me anymore."

"What the fuck, Barnes?" You hiss.

"If you can tell me you don't love me anymore, I won't bring it up again," He says.

You raise a brow.

His jaw clenches for a second. "But if you can't, I'll spend every waking moment getting you back," He finishes.

With a pit in your stomach and a lump in your throat, you shoot him one last glare. "You're too late," You utter before pulling your wrist out of his grip and leaving him there alone.

Friday evening arrives, and with it, the rehearsal dinner. Steve and Sharon's families have also arrived at the resort, meaning there's a lot more people around the table which makes it a heck of a lot easier to ignore Bucky's stares.

"What is going on between you?" Gwen asks you in a hushed voice as you're served by the waiting staff. "He hasn't stopped looking at you all day, with that weird, intense stare. Did you speak to him?"

With a shrug, you pick up your glass of wine. "It's Bucky. He's always weird and intense," You answer lamely.

"Oh, my God. Did he say something to you?" She presses. "You have to tell me. Are you guys... sleeping together?"

"What? No," You answer instantly. "What do you think of me, Gwen?"

"I don't know; when two people with history reconnect, there can be major sparks," She says while cutting into a roasted potato. "All the feelings come rushing back."

Instead of validating her theory with a response, you begin to eat.

"Holy shit. You did reconnect, didn't you?" She hisses. "I knew it!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," You say plainly.

She lets out a sigh. "Look, if you realized that there are still strong feelings between you, that's not a bad thing."

"Not a bad thing? He's got a girlfriend!" You whisper-shout, grateful for the sound of cutlery on porcelain drowning you out.

"Hasn't stopped you before," Gwen lets out before gasping at herself. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I mean - what he had with Natasha wasn't even real-"

"I get it, Gwen, it's fine," You cut in, and the two of you leave it at that.

While you're eating, Sharon gets out of her seat and walks around the table to you, smiling and squeezing the shoulders of everyone she passes on her way. When she gets to you, she brings her mouth to your ear and lowers her voice. "Can you come to the lobby with me?"

Once again, you're filled with anxiety and dread as you follow her out of the room. She holds your hand tight, and neither of you say a word as you walk to the lobby.

"Everything okay?" You ask once you get there, making sure the receptionist is out of earshot.

Sharon takes in a deep breath. "I took the test. Well, all five tests," She begins, a mixture of worry and fear in her eyes. "And... they were all positive."

You slap your hands over your mouth. "Oh, my God!" You all but scream, thankfully muffling your voice with your hands.

"I know!" She exclaims, breathing in and out quickly.

"That's amazing!" You tell her with a wide grin. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you," She whispers with teary eyes.

"Have you told Steve?" You ask her, to which she shakes her head.

"Not yet. I just... I don't know how," She admits. "My mom said I should just tell him, but... what if he gets scared? What if it's too much for him and he gets cold feet?"

"Sharon, that man looks at you like you hung the moon and stars," You tell her, holding her shoulders. "He loves you more than anything. The last thing he would do is leave you alone, especially if he knew the truth. Love isn't something you can just... throw away. Forget about. You can only confront it, and accept it... and... denying yourself of it would be the biggest disservice you could do to yourself."

She narrows her eyes. "Are we still talking about me being pregnant?"

You raise your brows, and let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. "I don't know," You say in a small voice.

"Okay, well, I want to do something special for him," She tells you. "He's always planning so many nice surprises for me, and I want to do the same. So, I need your help."

"Anything," You tell her.

A sly grin grows on her face. "I love you," She says.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask her with a frown. "Like you've done something I won't like?"

"Well, I thought you might need some help setting it up," She begins, glancing behind her. "So, I enlisted another pair of hands. The only other person I trust with my life who wouldn't go to the press."

Before you can ask her exactly who she's talking about, none other than Bucky walks into the lobby with an expectant look on his face. "Hey, Sharon. What is it you needed my help with?"

She looks at you with wide, hopeful eyes. "I don't want him to know it's for me, yet," She whispers to you. "Don't want him to know before Steve. You can tell him the truth once Steve knows."

With a sigh, you swallow your pride. "Uh, fuck. It's me, Barnes," You say flatly, hating every second of this. "As it turns out... I am pregnant."

He looks taken aback.

"And she wants to surprise Pietro," Sharon chimes in. "Can you help her set up the surprise on the beach? At this point, we don't want anyone knowing that doesn't need to, or that we don't trust."

With a nod, Bucky keeps his face free of emotion. "Of course."

You're convinced that you died and this is hell, because you've experienced nothing worse than setting up a 'We're Pregnant!' message on the beach with Bucky, who thinks the pregnancy is yours, and that the father is Pietro.

Bucky seems to have an artistic eye as he sets out the flowers around the words in the sand. You're lighting the candles, wondering how it got to this.

"This is so weird," You mumble.

"Yep," He replies curtly. "Didn't imagine this would be happening three years ago."

"It's been a long time," You say. "A lot has changed."

"You haven't," He says, looking down at the sand. "Still just as gorgeous."

A soft laugh leaves your mouth. "Should you be flirting with a pregnant woman?"

Bucky looks up at you, into your eyes. "Do you love him?" He asks you.

You struggle with the lighter, letting out a frustrated huff before answering him. "It started out as just sex," You say truthfully.

"Like us?"

You snort. "I guess."

"Do you love him?" He asks you again.

"Let's... not do this now," You suggest.

He lets out a long sigh and sits up. "When it ended with Natasha... my first thought was you. Carol told me to wait, at least a few weeks, so it didn't look like I was just jumping between you. I also didn't want to overwhelm you, or take attention off the fact that you won the case," He tells you. "Then you left New York to film in Australia. And the rumors about you and Luke... I just thought it would be best to leave you to it. You were working abroad. It wasn't the right time."

"Then I came back, and you were dating someone else," You remember.

"Wasn't dating her," He mumbles. "Emma and I were just friends."

"Well, it didn't look like that, and I didn't wanna reach out just to hear that you had moved on," You tell him truthfully. "I... I don't think I could have handled hearing that. For it to be final. Outlined clearly. I guess it was easier to live with the vagueness. The hope that... maybe we just needed time, and eventually we'd find each other again. But I couldn't listen to you telling me you were with someone else. I just couldn't."

He lets out a shaky breath. "I felt the same," He admits. "I know I'm a fucking coward for not trying harder. And now I'm too late."

"You're not a coward. You were just protecting yourself," You say lowly, before looking around. "I think we're done. Thanks for your help."

"Of course," He mumbles.

Sending Sharon a quick text telling her it's ready, you get up to leave. Bucky begins walking away, a look of dejection on his face, when you grab his hand. "Hold on. Just... wait here with me," You say, pulling him behind a rock.

"What are we doing here?" He asks you with a frown.

"Just wait," You whisper, looking over the rock. A few minutes pass before Sharon and Steve walk out the hotel.

"What are they doing here?" Bucky wonders. "Want me to stall them while you wait for Pietro?"

"Wait," You repeat, feeling the confusion emanate from him.

As Sharon and Steve make their way down to the beach, you hold your breath. Steve seems confused to the babble leaving Sharon's mouth, until they get to the candles and message in the sand. They stop. He's looking down at it. He looks back up at her, and she's grinning at him. With a laugh, he swoops her into his arms and spins her around.

You turn to look at Bucky, who just looks absolutely lost.

"What... they... huh?" He utters.

"The tests weren't for me. They were for Sharon," You reveal. "And this whole thing was for Steve, not Pietro. Sharon was just really scared of everyone finding out, and wanted Steve to know before anyone else."

Bucky's lips part in shock, and he just stares down at you. "So, you and Pietro..."

"We just sleep together every now and then," You admit. "I just... wanted to bring someone in case you brought someone. Which you did."

"Jean and I aren't... we're just friends," He tells you. "We're working on a film together. I mentioned that I wasn't bringing a plus-one, and she asked if she could come with me so she could network."

"So..." You trail off, your heart racing.

"So..." He echoes, raising a brow. "I still love you. I still want you more than I've ever wanted anything else. If I have to spend another three years proving myself to you, I will."

"Bucky... I... I love you, too," You say, the words finally flying free. "I don't want to waste any more time. But... I have a lot to think about," You tell him. "And a conversation to have with Pietro. But I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. The big day," He says, looking as though he's holding back from doing something he wants to do.

"Yeah. Very big," You say awkwardly. "Well... good night."

He takes a step closer to you, and you forget how to breathe. Looking down at you, he cups your cheek in his hand. "Good night," He replies.

Swallowing thickly, you nod.

How the fuck are you supposed to get any sleep tonight?

The wedding ceremony is beautiful. The love Steve and Sharon have for each other is evident in their vows and the way they look at each other, and you can't help but notice the glow on Sharon's face. However, the reception is when the real fun starts.

You've been pouring water shots for Sharon whenever someone wants to do a round with her, because she isn't ready for everyone to know about the baby yet. As her maid of honor, you've barely had a chance to sit down, having to fight all the small fires that arise to make sure she doesn't realize anything's wrong. You're grateful once the cake's been cut and the dance floor fills up, meaning you can finally relax as the party goes on.

"It's so unfair that you're breaking up with me," Pietro whines as he looks you up and down. "In that dress? You're killing me."

"Get a grip, Maximoff," You say with an eye roll.

"C'mon, let's dance!" He says, pulling you onto the dance floor before you have a chance to say no.

It's an upbeat song at first, one that you can simply clap along to so as not to make a fool of yourself - but then the band switches to a slow ballad.

"Everyone, grab someone you care about and let's dance a little slower," The singer says.

Bucky suddenly appears behind Pietro, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man. Mind if I steal her from you?"

Only looking slightly intimidated, Pietro nods. "Of course, man. Have fun," He says, giving you a grin before walking away.

As the song begins, a rendition of Can't Help Falling In Love, you smile and shake your head. "Did you request this?" You ask him, placing your hands on his shoulder.

"Who? Me?" He asks with faux innocence as he takes your waist in his hands. "I don't know what you mean."

"Cheesy fucker," You mumble, unable to keep the smile on your face.

This song reminds you of one of the best days you ever spent with him - when you met his family. Losing them was another painful thing you had to deal with when you left Bucky, and getting to see them again is one of the things you're most excited about.

"How is everyone?" You ask him. "Rebecca?"

"She's doing well," He says with a smile. "She's a teacher at our old school."

"I miss her," You tell him. "I miss them all."

"We can see them soon," Bucky tells you. "They've never stopped asking me about you. Ma will probably faint when I tell her you're mine for real this time."

"I'm yours?" You ask teasingly. "Prove it, Mr. Barnes."

He lets out a breathy laugh before moving in closer, holding your body to his, and bringing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It was everything you've been missing and more. You feel just as safe with him as you did all those years ago.

When he pulls away, he shakes his head. "I can't believe I ever thought I could keep you at a distance. At the start, when I did everything I could to ignore my feelings," He says. "All you ever were was perfect. And I let fear keep me from being with you."

"We both did," You tell him. "And nobody can blame us. We'd never been in love before. Never thought we ever would be. But you came into my life, and... you taught me love. Showed me what it's supposed to be. And I want to spend my life loving you, without judgement, without hiding from the world. I love you, Jamie. No amount of time could have ever changed that. I never moved on, never forgot. I'll always be yours."

"And I'll always be yours," Bucky swears. "I'm gonna look after you, always. I went through life without feeling anything real before I met you. And you made me feel it all. Anger, hate, irritation."

"Damn," You utter lowly.

"Joy, appreciation, love," He adds with a smile. "It's like I was only pretending to feel those things before you made me really feel them. You lit a fire in me. Made me real. You made me real. I want to spend the rest of my life thanking you for that."

"I wish I could tell the Bucky from three and a half years ago that he'd be saying all this one day," You say with a grin. "He'd lose his fucking mind."

"Ah, he was a dick," He says flippantly. "Didn't know a thing."

"He was a dick," You agree, leaning in. "But... he was also really good in bed."

A smirk pulls at his lips. "Yeah? You enjoyed getting hate-fucked by him, didn't you?"

You bite down on your lip, squeezing his shoulders. "So. Much," You utter.

Bucky glances around the thinning-out dance floor and looks back at you. "How about, once we're done here, I take you up to one of the rooms, and fuck you like I hate you?" He suggests, sending a shiver down your spine. "What do you say? For old time's sake?"

With a grin, and ruined panties, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him before repeating, "For old time's sake."

super long a/n incominggggg

the fucking end.

so here we are. i am so not emotionally prepared to say goodbye to real people. the past eighteen weeks have felt so, so incredible (eighteen weeks??? they went so quick omg), and exactly what peak tumblr felt like for me, back in the method acting and suburban pleasure days. for those who have been following me for a while, you probably noticed i took an extremely long hiatus starting in about 2023, only really posting the odd one-shot here and there. real people was my first series back and . oh my God. the support was instant and overwhelming. it felt like a community again. my love for writing was reignited and, though there were one or two weeks when i hit writer's block and had to rush to get a chapter out, for the most part it genuinely felt like this series wrote itself. the storyline of actors fake dating has been sitting in my drafts for literal years. since before my marvel era. since before my anakin era. since an era none of you knew... my harry styles era. yep. i had a really weak intro drafted of a harry styles fanfic with the same concept. it was just called "real". and that was in like... 2016/17. so to be here now, almost a decade later, with a full series based on 16-year-old kinana's idea written and complete that I'm so proud of is so damn surreal. I genuinely would not have been able to write this without your love and support so thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged and sent me lovely messages week in and week out. you are the reason this series exists. i hope i can continue to bring you more stories. i might take a short break from posting anything for a few weeks, work on some drafts. maybe think up a new series. and work on some old ones. i'll see you soon. i love you all.

masterlist

Vision blurring, he was dying. 

An axe blow from above cuts at his arm; he can’t scream, his arm now hanging on by the straps of his armor. James keeps his sword in the mostly usable arm, falling to his knees. It was too much. These were killing blows. The world spins as he blocks another blow, the soldier pushing against him. A roar came towards him, lights flashing, the Sorcerer was cutting a wide arch that downs the warriors around him.

Someone was calling his name, his horse fleeing from the scene. They’d been so close, had pushed forward right up to the shore. How could he fall now? He was their leader, the one they called King. The last of his mother's bloodline.

Looking down, he could see that his black and gold armor was now stained with not only the blood of his enemies but his own. The world was starting to fade, even as Strange made his way towards them. Sam and Steve are calling for him. Someone was grabbing him, shoving a hand against where his life leaked out. It was too late. He couldn’t breathe, and blood was pouring down his now useless left arm. Trying to speak was too much; his body was starting to give out, as he gasped for air. 

“We got you,” Sam calls, holding him up. “We need to get him out of here. He’s bleeding bad.”

“I will provide a shield. We are starting to lose ground.” Strange is yelling, the world is starting to go in and out.

“We got you, buddy,” Steve says as he helps pick him up. “Fuck, his arm has been severed.”

A large book was laid in front of you, along with an equally large cup of tea. Pen in hand, hoovering over blank pages. Alpine curled up in an old magpie nest next to a roaring fire. You flip through the book, noting various passages. You weren’t fond of this language, some northern germanic mix, but you’d picked it up enough to translate the book. Something cracked far off in the distance. Branches you’d laid in ways so that you’d know if anyone was coming towards your home.

Most people didn’t venture this far out into the swamps. Your home was built above the reeds, in a massive willow tree. It had been carefully crafted so that you were well above the flood line, and it moved with the tree as it grew. Around it were maze-like wharfs that raised and lowered with the rains. Whoever it was, they knew their way here and knew to stay away from the traps you’d dotted throughout the place. Several of the wharves would submerge completely if stepped on. Not to mention the dozen of deadends, bramble-wrapped drop traps, and hidden spike-filled wells. You generally don't like people.

You huff, shoving a feather into the book, and laying your pen down. The smell of blood makes your hair stand up. Someone was injured, and gravely, if not already dead. Their life was dripping out of them into your swamp water; you could feel how the landscape cringed back from the blood. Even Alpine had raised her head, ears turning as she searched for the intruders. More than likely interested in the blood.

Alpine gets up, stretches and lets out a soft meow, turning to look at you for a moment. Her soft white fur fluffs in the sunshine before she turns to walk over to the door, standing up on her back feet to paw at the door. 

“Don’t look at me. Not my fault, they are bleeding all over the place.” You huff and follow the cat down the way. “And no eating them until we know who it is.”

It was early spring, the snow had melted, the water making it so all the walkways were level with your house. Coming out the front door, you look out to see two men dragging a third down the wooden path. They are both heavily armored, carrying what looks to be someone of importance between them. One of the men looks up, and you recognize him.

“Steve Rogers, what in all the pond scum are you doing in my swamp?” You call out, both men looking up at you. 

They keep moving, picking up pace. “We need your help. Our King is dying.”

You groan, rolling your eyes, Alpine jumping up to sit on one of the posts that line the walkways. She licks a paw like it's nothing; she isn’t the one walking towards a leaking King.

“He smells like he’s dead,” You grimace as you walk towards him. Waving your hands to remove any of the wards that were up. Last thing you wanted was splattered royalty. That made you pause. When did the Origin people get royalty?

The man’s armor was caked in blood, guts, and other fluids; his left arm wasn’t attached anymore, nothing but a poorly cauterized stub was left. That was not going to be an easy fix. That didn’t cover the fact that you could hear his ragged breath. He was barely getting any air. 

“He’s breathing,” The other man said, he looked just as irritated as you felt. “We managed to stop the bleeding, but he can’t get a breath.”

You meet them as they come closer. Nose scrunching at the smell, you hated the smell of battle. Not nearly enough soap.  Reaching forward, you look under his armpit to see another shittily done stitch job. 

“His lung is punctured, you blasted rockmen.” You grumble, directing them towards the house. “We need to get all that armor off, lay him on the main table. It’s clear. I am gonna gather a few things.”

You grab a basket and walk out towards the reeds. Without any hesitation, you walk onto one of the platforms that sinks about a meter down. It was low enough you could access the bottom of the reeds, gathering up the tubers buried beneath the clay bottom. Each is cleaned as best you can. Next, you pull out a hand sickle that stayed by your side, and gather up several large, old reeds. Everything dumped into the basket, you grab the post and drag yourself back onto the deck.

The dress you wear, dragging on the wood walkpath, boots wicking away the wetness, they’d both be dry by the time you got to work on the so-called King. You can hear the clanging of armor as you climb up the few steps into your home. Alpine weaving around the posts and rubbing against the steps inside.

It feels so much smaller now. Your house was meant for the practicality of your work. Herbs hung from the rafters, a large wood fire pit was in the middle, tables were laid out everywhere, along with dozens of mostly standing bookshelves. You didn’t get a lot of company, so you had never kept a habit of keeping the place tidy. Now with everyone inside, and a large man lying out on a table, you wish you’d kept it a little less haphazard. 

You drop the basket beside the table, stuffing the reeds into a boiling pot of water, before taking in the fallen man. He was large enough to fill the entirety of the table. Body sculpted by years of hard work and war, scars covered most of his body, along with dozens of large bruises. Whoever he was had taken a beating. His hair was long, deep brown, almost black color, skin a sickly pale color. His armor and undergarments had been stacked near the fireplace, leaving him in nothing, except for a carefully placed cloth over his bits. You ignore that as best you can; it had been too long since you had male company.

“Well, you sure brought me a mess, Rogers.” You sigh, immediately starting to feel along the man's chest. Reaching up, you grab a long piece of pottery, one end was shaped into a long, wide cup that went up to a smaller cup. Pressing it against his chest, you can hear that one lung wasn't expanding properly, but the other was. “Bloody idiots, you're lucky as hell he is alive.”

“Strange dropped us close by,” Steve swallows, taking the listening piece as you grab the reeds. 

Next, you grab a piece of metal thinner than paper and sharper than a sword. You bring it to hover over his chest. The other man goes to stop you as you feel up his ribs. “What are you doing?”

You almost blast him back just for stepping in your way. “Trying to save the idiot from you.” 

“Just get out of her way, Sam.” Steve grabs him and drags him back. “She knows what to do.”

You move forward, counting the ribs, you feel for the right spo,t and take the thin metal knife to open up the side. The man groans a little, but barely moves. Wiggling the knife around you makes it big enough for the reed. Apologizing to the man, you keep your finger there as you sort through the reeds and find one that is the right size. Taking it out of the hot pot, you wave it around so it doesn't burn. You spread the skin and hold the side open as you slot the reed through the ribs and into the lung. He lets out a whine as the reed is pushed in.

Then, within seconds, the man is coughing and sputtering. Blood splashes against his lips as he gasps for more air. 

“Well, his lungs are working,” You sigh, dropping the knife into a bowl of water. Grabbing soap, you wash your hands and start to feel the man up. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Sam, the troublemaker, asks. His brows pulled together, brown eyes looking frantically over the man. 

Shrugging, you keep moving around the body. “He’s dying. Infections already set in, the shock from the arm being lopped off is stressing his body. Him breathing should help relieve some of the stress, but he is far from being out of the woods.”

Steve wrings his hands together, watching you as you clear a small table. Grabbing herbs, powders, bowls, fresh water, alcohol, and other bits and bobs. “He’s the one who has stood with us on every front. We won't have pushed the Southerners this far without him.”

Alpine walks in and jumps up onto the table. Sitting in between the man’s legs, her eyes narrowing as she looks at him. You keep a close eye on the cat, her tail swishing back and forth.

“Who is he?” You ask as you start to mix some of the powders with alcohol. 

“James Bauchan Barnes,” Steve says quietly, as if saying his name out loud might bring death to him. “The last Barnes on this soil.”

The white cat steps carefully up onto James’ thigh, then goes up to his lower stomach. She purrs loud enough to be heard as she circles his chest a few times and lies down. You watch her carefully. Alpine rarely lay with anyone but you.

“Well, Alpine thinks he is worth saving.” You worry at your lip, going over to James head and holding out a spoon of the mixture. “This is going to taste awful, but help with the pain.”

James nods ever so slightly; it’s the first time you’ve seen his eyes. They are so blue, like freshly frozen seawater, even now, with his life-forcing fading, they are captivating. You shake that off and carefully feed him the spoonful of medicine. 

“What is that?” Sam asks, no threat in his voice. He had found an empty stool to sit on, his body sagging against the wood.

“A mix of things, valerian to calm, poppy for the pain, comfrey for the bleeding. It will make it easier for me to start working on him. I am expecting payment. Not saving some King for shits and giggles.” You look at Steve and Sam pointedly.

Grabbing the earpiece, you check his heart and lungs again. Happy with that, you move his arm up so that you can look at the stab wound there. Cringing at the angry redness that is spreading out from it. The smell alone was enough to make you inwardly gag.

“What do you want, Witch?” Steve crosses his arms, suddenly trying to make himself look bigger. “He's kept you safe too. The reason everyone stays away from your swamps.”

You snort, removing the stitches from his side. “People stay away from my swamps cause I got catfish big enough to eat them. Not to mention wards, that would break them into perfect bite-sized swan food.”

“You are an actual Witch?” Sam asks, seemingly surprised as you start to clean the wound, cutting away dead flesh. The wound oozes a terrible colour, mixing with fresh blood. 

“No, I just pull wards out of my ass.” You glare at him, pumping more fresh water into a large pot and balancing it over the fire pit. Grabbing several bundles of wood and putting a few pieces onto the fire, stoking it so that it gets bigger. 

Turning back, you look at Steve, “I want ten thousand gold, and protection of my swamp extended.”

Sam actually lets out a snort, Steve gaping at you. “You're out of your mind?”

Picking up a fresh knife, you swirl it inyour hand, focusing on it making it float above your hand. With a quick twist of your fingers, the knife is now pressing against Steve’s jugular vein. He goes perfectly still, Sam's eyes going wide as another knife is up and at him before he can speak. Crossing your arms, you glare at both men.

“Your King, James, whoever. Is being called by Morrigan; he is sitting between both realms now.” You speak swiftly, as the water starts to boil. “If you want him to live, you will pay me what I am owed, and make sure everyone leaves me the hell alone.” You soak a towel in the water, squeezing it out before going to press at the infected wound. “Or I kill you all, and my fish will be nice and fat by summer.”

Both men exchanged glances as you started to push as much of the pus out from the underarm wound. The smell is awful, so you grab a cloth mask that's stuffed with lavender and mint to mask the terrible odor.

“Okay, but it may take time,” Steve speaks, his voice strained from trying not to move. 

The knives fly back into their pot. You sigh as you finish cleaning the wound. You grab more alcohol, the root of the cattail you'd plucked. Along with mullein leaves, yarrow, and more cloth. 

“Give me what you can now, and I expect the rest once he is healed.” You let venom and power twist around the words. Sam squirming just at the sound of them. “This will take at least until the moon is half.”

Sam rubs at his neck; you could feel him struggling to keep upright. “That’s a long time; he is needed on the battlefield. Our warriors rely on him.”

“He’s missing an arm!” You glare at him, not sure how to get the point across. “Or is Strange going to pull a new one out of another portal? You brought me a dead man and then demanded I reanimate him within moments?”

Steve holds a hand up, stopping Sam from whatever spittle he had to say. You'd dealt with Steve before, several times, and he knew the ins and outs of how magic worked. “We have five hundred gold between us. I can also leave my crest from the chest piece. It’s solid gold.”

“We are going to give her all that we have? For all we know, she’ll kill him once we leave.” Sam bawks at the idea, throwing his hands in the air.

You huff as you stuff the cloth and herb mix into the gaping wound. Snapping the root open and rubbing it into the skin. James moans, trying to move away from the pressure. You hum a small song, lacing it with calming power, willing him to relax and not feel what you’re doing. His energy was struggling to stay in this realm, part of him already lying in the river.

“You just relax now, King. If all goes well, these herbs will help quell the infection. Though I may be doing some work I am not happy to do.” You mostly talk to yourself. It had been many seasons since you pulled someone out of the river.

“Do we have your word, Witch?” Steve asks, Sam still looking peeved by the ordeal. The way he said the word Witch makes you want to stuff his eyes with nettle. 

“You should remember that I can take away what I've given, at any point, Rogers.” You hiss at him before taking one of your knives to cut the tip of your finger. Then hold out the knife for Steve. “Blood bond. It will bind this deal to us. If I can’t save him, you won’t owe me anything.”

You don’t bother telling him that there is a whole incantation that goes with the blood pact. Instead, you just press both of your fingers together, rubbing the blood together. The worst that would happen to Steve is an infection. Now he feels better, and you can actually work in peace. 

The rushing sound of water roars to life around him. James stands in the middle of a large, endless river. Above him, the sky is a dark grey, swirls of angry clouds obscure any sense of where the sun was. He doesn’t recognize this place. The more he tries to see, the more it seems to change around him. Looking at his boots, he wonders how his feet aren’t cold. He is almost thigh deep in the water now; it should have been freezing wet. 

Looking to his left, he saw that his arm was still attached. James’ right hand came up to touch it. How was that possible? He’d felt the blow, felt the limb be torn from him, yet there it was. There was no pain, he could breathe, and yet he remembered being on the field. Feeling the stab under his arm, gasping for any kind of air, eyes blurring from the pain. What was the last thing he had remembered? Strange shouting. Steve and Sam calling for him. Had they made it to him? Was it a dream? 

Water began to pull and tug at his boots. His hand was resting on his sternum as something pulled at it. A string directing him further downstream. A flash of pain shook him. 

Coughing, blood sputtered up and onto his hand. The river faded, and he was in some sort of structure. Things hanging from the ceiling. A sticky, bitter liquid is put on his tongue, someone standing over him, telling him to swallow it. 

Everything went black for a moment.

Blinking, he was standing on the once unseeable bank of the river. It was mossy, small ferns and wildflowers dotted along the ground. Reminding him of where he used to go with his Mom and Aunties to do the washing. The tug at his chest happened again. He was supposed to go into the river, to walk down it. It didn’t seem safe, but his guts were insistent. It was impossible to ignore.

“James,” A voice he hadn’t heard since he was a young man, hit him. Ringing loudly like a bell tolling during midday. 

Turning, he sees her, his Mom. She looked exactly like he remembered her, hair braided in neat bundles that were swirled on top of her head. All of it held up by a bone hairpin that was decorated with green gems. A gift from his father. The man had always brought her tokens of his love from where he travelled. Her face wasn’t as lined by the years now, no grey, her blue eyes sparkling as she took him in.

“You've grown,” She says, placing a small basket beside the river. “Has it really been that long?” 

A flash of his Mom laying on the stone doorstep, blood coming from a massive wound to her head, broke across his mind. He cringes as he remembers holding her, calling her name, crying for his sisters. While watching, the Southerners walked through the village, burning and killing anyone who crossed their path.

He swallows and reaches for her. “Where am I, Mom?” 

A sad smile has the crows' feet showing at the corners of her eyes. “Oh my beautiful boy, I think you know. I told you the stories of where we go when we return to ash.”

James looked towards the river; it was so wide he couldn’t see the other bank, and it ran for as far as he could see in any direction. Was this the realm of death? A river that pulled all the fallen souls to their next home.

“I am dying,” He whispers, his lips feeling chapped suddenly. An ache in his side reminded him of the battlefield. His left arm lost feeling for a moment before it came back.

She reaches forward and takes his hand carefully; his own now easily engulfs her. It had been dozens of seasons since he’d seen her. Seen her alive. She was always in his dreams, talking to him about the other realms. That she’d be there to guide him through the gates. Guide him home to where his family and people waited for him.

“You have been gravely wounded,” Mom says, squeezing his hand. “You’ve done so much for our people, for our lands. Have made the old Gods proud.”

“We haven’t won yet, Mom.” He turns to her, watching as her gaze drifts back out to the river. “There is more to do.”

She gestures out to the river, “I am not here to tell you what to do, or what not to do. I am only allowed to guide.”

Out in the river, a tall figure starts to come out of the river, completely silent. They are covered in a thick, viscous green liquid. Their arms seem too long, with four legs that have too many joints, and a smell of swamp water washes off of them. The head cracks back and forth, spinning almost completely around. The liquid starts to fall off of them, leaving them dressed in a plain flax-thread dress. Her eyes meet his, looking over him. The longer he watches, the more human she becomes. 

“Who is that?” James asks, looking down to where his Mom had been. She was gone. 

Looking up, he was faced to face with the woman from the river. Her eyes burrowing into him, face set in something he couldn’t read. Her body no longer stretched and distorted, now resembling a young, striking woman.

“You’ve become a pain in my side.” Her voice comes out like hundreds of flying bugs. Scratching and screaming towards him. 

He puts his hands up and tries to walk back. “Who are you?”

The woman rolls her eyes, green swirling all around her, like flashes of lantern bugs, everywhere she steps, black earth sprang up. No matter how many steps he took, he felt like he wasn’t moving away from her.  

“I am here to bring you back to the side of the living.” She hisses, the voice more solid, but the buzz of other voices still ringing around the edges. 

James looks down the river; he was at the first gate of his journey towards the next realm. If he passed all the gates, he’d be reunited with all his loved ones. All the ones he’d seen killed by the never-ending onslaught of the Southerners. They’d torched his land, taken what was not theirs, killed their matriarchs, their story keepers. With no care about their stories or their rituals, just that the soil was fertile and the people didn’t fight back.

He’d fought back, had raised armies from children, taken their pain and made it a tool. Shaped their anger and used it to drive their would-be conquerors to the edges of the lands. They were so close to being rid of them. Being free.

“What if I don’t want to go back?” James turns to her, the green light flickers around her like falling pollen. Her head tilted like she contemplated squishing him with her mind.

“I can’t make you. That is your choice.” She replies, looking back out at the water, the dark soil around her had started to sprout small green buds. Whatever she was, she was most certainly not human. 

“You’re just a guide,” James replies, looking her over again. “Are you a Faye?” 

She lets out a snort, looking down the bank of the river. “No, not Faye.” 

“But you’re not human.” He states, watching as the green buds turn into small trees. Willows. He'd heard about beings, witches, gods, deities, and more he'd forgotten the names, too. James had been fighting alongside a Sorcerer and a Witch. Whoever this person was, they were powerful and looking to help him.

“Not human, not Faye, not a God,” Sighing, she flicks her hand up and holds out a lily pad bloom. “Just an immortal, that is hoping to get paid.”

“Paid? Immortal?” James’ brows furrow as he watches her, the lily pad vanishing as quick as it appeared. She put a hand on her hip and looked around the place. 

“Look, I do not got all day.” She huffs, flickering between the green liquid form and this one. James cringing back at the sight. “You have an option. You come with me, and we see if you live, or you can go down the river.” The immortal looks down the way. “To whatever realm awaits you.”

“I was told,” James swallows, Wanda’s words echoing around him. “I was told that I would be the one to drive the Southerners out of our lands. That they’d never come here again. Is any of that true?”

Her hands get tossed up, and her eyebrows raised. “Do I look like a fortune teller? I work with the living to keep them from dying, not predict weather.”

James blinks a few times, looking at the river, then at her. A being he had never seen or even knew about, yet was offering to help him live. For a moment, as he stood there, he could almost hear the laughter of his Mom, see the way his sister used to play with flower crowns. The longing for simpler times. Then Wanda’s words. You are the one, the one who will push them back. 

“I have some unfinished business,” He states, gestures for her to lead the way.

Next

Author's note: This fic is completely finished, and should come out once a week for the next 7 weeks. I've worked my little butt off to get this done. I really wanted to have the whole thing finished before posting so that it flowed well <3

Comments and Reblogs appreciated 🥰

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Six months later

I hated these stupid galas. Fundraiser, dinner, whatever the hell you wanted to call it. It was just a way for administration to pretend they cared about us or the patients. Unfortunately as an attending I was required to show up. 

I was intent on staying in my spot against the wall, relying on my resting bitch face as the latest batch of med students were calling it to keep people away, when my eyes caught on someone familiar.

It couldn't be...

I followed the flashes of satin through the crowd, watching her disappear onto one of the balconies. I froze a few feet away, not 100% sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"Didn't realize you still worked in the hospital." I said eventually, feeling bad when she jumped before turning towards me with a sad smile. 

"Yeah, took a job as an attending in pediatrics. It's a little more my style than emergency medicine was." She shrugged and one of the thin straps of her dress slid almost imperceptibly lower.

"That's nice that you were able to stay close to Jack." She pinched her face up in confusion and I wondered if I wasn't supposed to know about their relationship.

"Um, yeah. It's nice to be close to all my friends." Her gaze dropped down to the glass in her hands as she spun the champagne around. "Why did we stop being friends?" 

Oh.

"I didn't- well we- I didn't mean...." 

What the hell was I supposed to say to that? I realized we were soulmates but you had already moved on and it fucking killed me?

"Fucks sake Brendon, was the idea of me as your soulmate so repulsive? Am I that-"

"No." I cut her off sternly, stepping closer and grabbed her freehand. "You are.... amazing. A kind, beautiful soul. Any man would be lucky to have you. Jack is..... Jack is lucky to have you." 

I cleared my throat, trying to clear the emotions currently clogging it up.

Way to admit your fucking issues dude.

"Huh?" There was that confused look on her face. "Jack and I aren't dating."

Excuse me?

"What?" 

"I'm not dating Jack, never was." And now it was my turned to be confused. 

"But.... that day with Dr. Mohan..." Her face relaxed like dots were finally connecting. I'm glad at least one of us knew what was going on because I didn't.

"Okay yes, Jack and I fucked." She held her hand up to stop me when I opened my mouth. "But that's all we ever did. His soulmate's dead and mine.... you didn't want me. So yeah we were fucking for a little, but that was over the day everything with Samira went down. The two of them have been dating for months." 

Well shit. That was..... a lot to wrap my head around. But I kept going back to the same thing...

"You thought I didn't want you?" My voice broke and she let out a bitter laugh that crawled down my spine and settled low in my gut. 

"What else was I supposed to think? You never said anything about our soul marks, you treated me like shit and then when you finally saw my soul mark, you stopped being friends with me." 

And damn. When she put it like that....

"I'm sorry. Fucking hell flower I'm so so sorry." I dropped to my knees still holding her hand, hoping that enough begging could fix my colossal fuck-up. "I didn't- I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to make you think I didn't want you or that you were anything less than perfect." 

"Then what the hell were you trying to do?" She looked at me with tears in her eyes, and right then I swore I'd never let her cry again.

"I didn't know. At first at least, it took me months to start thinking you were my soulmate, and by then I thought you and Jack were dating, and I didn't want to ruin your happiness so I just kept my mouth shut. I figured if the best I could be was your friend, I'd take that. But then I saw the words on your ribs and I didn't think you were my soulmate anymore I knew it and it just became too much to be close to you. I thought I had treated you so terribly when I was figuring out my feelings that you didn't want anything to do with me so I pulled back to protect myself. If I could go back in time, I'd drop to my knees and propose the second you insulted me in that trauma room your first day." It was eerily quiet after my word vomit, and I worried I was going to lose her all over again. 

"How the hell did you not know we were soulmates? That's like the whole point of the marks." She let out a dry laugh, wiping at the tears under her eyes.

"Jesus doll, do you know how many people have told me I have a god complex before?" 

"Because you have one."  

"I know. And I'm sorry I didn't say anything to you sooner, but I honestly thought you were happier without me. All I want is for you to be happy."

"I'd like to be happy with you."

"Yeah?" I asked hopefully, staring up at her.

"Yeah." She smiled back, moving her hands to my face and pulling me gently up to stand in front of her.

"I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you. I swear it." I murmered softly, resting my forehead against hers. 

"You better." She hummed, pulling me in for a kiss.

“Jesus.” Both men looked down, the sight of their mixed cum from the night now on your thighs, your bed still wet from you cumming had you blushing. “Don’t look.” Trying to use your free hand to cover yourself you stumbled off the bed till Johnny made his way to your side.

“No need to be embarrassed, Bonnie, only natural.” If he didn’t have such a charming smile and the look in his eyes didn’t make your knees weak and want to redo last night you’d push his face rolling your eyes.

“Why couldn’t you guys at least wipe me down?”

“Cause now we can share a shower.” Trying to not smile at Simon you walked into your bathroom, looking at your shower you were a little nervous on how this was even going to work, your shower was barely big enough to fit two people let alone two big ass guys and yourself. As you turned on the water and made sure it got to the perfect temperature Johnny and Simon stripped down before Johnny turned you around shocking you and picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, they squeezed in and Simon got to working lathering your washcloth with soap before washing your back, neck, arms, peeling them from around Johnny’s shoulders then your cunt. You were otherwise preoccupied with Johnny, who had connected his lips with yours kissing you tenderly and sweetly, his hands gripping your ass. He groaned as he could feel Simon’s hand in the washcloth bumping his cock and your hips moving whenever the cloth would graze your clit. 

As Simon hooked his arms under your knees Johnny guided you to lean back into Simon’s chest as he then took the washcloth from Simon and wiped down your legs and front as Simon held you and kissed along your neck and shoulders humming against your skin. 

As the three of you enjoyed a slow shower, tender touches, sweet kisses and lingering glances, John and Kyle went to their rooms to shower quickly after reading the note that Simon left on the desk for them. Meeting up together in the rec room they went to an abandoned training building on the edge of the base, “How the hell did she even get into our barracks?”

“Someone must have forgotten to lock the doors, we also weren’t really planning to take the route that we did.” John said, closing the doors behind himself and Kyle, “But thankfully our girl is more than understanding and loving enough to listen to us and give us a chance.” Eyes hardening as he glanced at the tied up and duct taped Angie, she looked frantically between the two men, tears cascading down her cheeks, one black eye, nose bleeding, and a knife stuck in her thigh.

“Wouldn’t have had the mess if this slag listened in the first place.” Her muffled whining as she tried to thrash and shake her head, “What?”

Ripping the tape from her mouth, she cried out before huffing, “Please, I won’t say anything just let me go! I don’t deserve this! I didn’t do anything!!”

“You made our girl question her standing with us. Made her question our love and loyalty to her. You overstepped time and time again with us when we’ve always told you not to touch us and to respect our boundaries. You’ve made shitty jabs and comments about her. Because of you, we almost lost her.” John leaned close to her face as she looked horrified back at him, “You deserve everything that’s coming your way and then some.”

“Bonnie said she was going to be busy in the clinic for a bit but she’ll meet up with us at the jeeps so we can get lunch later.” Johnny and Simon walked in, Simon glaring at Angie who screamed at the top of her lungs when she saw the door open, hoping, praying that someone heard her.

A loud slap shut her up as John used every ounce of his strength to strike his hand across her cheek when she screamed. “We can’t be too long, we still will have to dispose of her and you’ll need to write up that she’d gone AWOL.” Simon said, arms crossed tightly over his chest as she looked shocked at all of them.

“You’re seriously going to kill me because of her?” New tears started falling as everything was settling in that she was truly going to die. “Why can’t you just transfer me? I swear I won’t tell anyone what you guys ha- AAAAAAAAH!” Johnny had twisted the knife that was in her leg before ripping it out of her leg at an angle widening the slit before stabbing her knee and twisting, digging in and through.

John grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked back, she looked up at him, fear imprinted into her features, “If you were even close to lucky enough for us to consider of transferring you we know your loud mouth would spill everything before you even settling in where you would get dumped off at.”

“No point in us wasting our time tracking you down and finishing what we’ve started at a later date.” Kyle said, voice flat and void, uncharacteristically. 

—-- 

You happily sat between Kyle and Johnny, fingers laced with Kyle as his thumb ran over your knuckles looking at him smiling sweetly as he kissed your hand. Lunch was bliss as Kyle sat by you the whole time trying to keep all your attention on him using his charm to his full ability feeling proud whenever you would blush and try to hide your face in Simon’s shoulder. The day ended on a wonderful note, due to mostly that you did see even a glance of Angie all day. As the days went by, you grew more and more comfortable with them all again, everything going back to how they once were. 

John even let you come on missions again, of course you were to be glued to someone's side at all times and you didn’t fight on it, following orders to the letter pride and happiness making you shine when John would praise you for doing as you were told. They also dedicated every Sunday to you, all attention was on you, they catered to your every wish and command, praise and love poured into you the moment you wake up till the moment you fall asleep. Of course if for any reason during the week that they picked up on something being wrong with you they dropped everything to listen and take care of you. They always checked in with you before you had a chance to check in with them. You all even talked about your relationship when at home, the one that was mostly farther than the rest was Johnny, but you all agreed that after your next deployment depending on how things went with your comfortability this time home they were looking for a home that was big enough for all of them to live together.

Of course everything went smoothly and a month before they were due to go home they all were looking up houses, Johnny did ask if they could find something close enough to his family which everyone was fine with. In no time they bought a house, listed it under your name and everything else, the guys refused to let you use a dime in purchasing the place and claimed they were going to give you everything you need and let your money be for spoiling yourself instead. Meeting Johnny’s family was nerve wracking but they accepted you instantly and didn’t question the broad relationship you had with everyone and were just happy that Johnny was happy and that you loved him. Kyle’s family was invited to visit you guys to meet you due to the fact that they were more spread out and weren’t local like Johnny’s family and they also embraced you and the guys. John’s family was more questionable on the relationship but John had your back through and through when they would try to poke and prod you, whispering behind your back. Through every family meeting, Simon stuck close to you like he was your shadow, his hand always somewhere on you, he had told you long ago of his lack of family and you knew it was hard on him. You always leaned close into him when his fingers would tighten into you a little more when things would get to be a little much for him. He felt his heart swell every time you would check in with him, asking if he was okay, needed a break, fresh air, or if he would want to go home or send everyone away.

When you got pregnant you didn’t hesitate to put in for early retirement which John understood and gratefully signed. You all lived out your days happily, building your own family, living your dream life, after another 3 years John retired relishing in being a father, Johnny and Kyle retired around the same time finding little jobs in town to keep themselves busy. Simon stayed enlisted the longest, until he came home early one night, phone a few weeks prior broken and unable to stay in contact heard you bawling your eyes out, the guys trying to comfort you and reassure you that he should be okay. His heart shattered when you voiced your worries that he could be dead and no one was telling them anything, that his daughter won’t have her father. Walking in and holding you that night he decided enough was enough and that you guys needed him more and that you all were enough for him to stay home.

All in all, you never stopped doting on your men, even when your kids were born, you learned early on that you had more than enough love and heart to give, and what you felt you lacked, the guys always reassured and filled for you. They never stopped their tradition of Sunday’s being about you, teaching their sons and daughters it as well, you never again felt unappreciated, they always took the best care of you and life became like a dream.

----

Yaaay! Pretty. Happy. Sweet. Loving. Just right. Hope ya'll enjoyed.