#fae!stucky

Walking into your office suite with both headphones still in, and blasting Florence + The Machine, you noticed some of your colleagues were… fangirling? Over something? Popping out an earbud you cough to catch their attention. “Well hey y’all, where’s the fire?” The joke is lighthearted but also intentional in finding out what was going on. “We were just reading the announcement of the two new professors in the department, and girrrrl, they are FINE!” One of your colleagues, and fellow doctoral cohort member, named Shayna is flushed and giggly. But that’s also how she looked after seeing anything Pedro Pascal related so you weren’t too surprised. “Okaaay? Spill their names!” Walking over to her desktop, you looked at the screen and felt your heart skip a beat. 

“Announcing the appointments of Dr. James Buchanan Barnes and Dr. Steven Grant Rogers to the Communication and Digital Media Department.“

Their headshots were fucking gorgeous. Two gazes of blue, so piercing, it felt as if they were looking directly at you through the screen. It made a shiver crawl up your spine. Their eyes… they were so familiar, and those smiles! Goosebumps erupted across your arms. Shaking yourself from the weird feeling in your stomach, you simply shrugged to your colleagues and went to your own office to unlock and get prepared for the day. You had a 9:30 am Public Speaking course and a 12:30 pm Intro to Oral Interpretation course; leaving you time in between to work on the newest comments on your dissertation draft (aka commenting with your main advisor to help you find some damn definitions for something that seemingly has never been defined before academically). As you set your desk up, slipping your headphones back on, you didn’t hear your cohort greeting the men you’d just seen on the screen. So engrossed in the music and routine, you didn’t hear the knock on your cracked door either. 

It was the electric warmth that shot through you at a butterfly touch on your shoulder that had you twisting in shock at the person, headphones falling off and backward onto your desk, as you saw the intruder in your space. Your throat tightened at the man, creature, in front of you. Tall, handsome, inhuman. Pointed ears, teeth too sharp, eyes with an unnatural glow to them. He was so beautiful it hurt to look at him. Blinking, thinking you must’ve read too much fae romance in the last few weeks (your escape from revisions and conference planning; and a guilty pleasure after your time in the Wicklow National Forest), you thought the visage would disappear… 

It didn’t. 

Swallowing hard, trying to stay calm, you smiled apprehensively. “Uh, hi, sorry I didn’t hear you knock.” You said, trying to stay as calm as possible as you believed you were surely losing your mind. He blinked at you, too, cocking his head slightly to the side as if a predator glancing confused at the behavior of its prey. He smoothly and quickly recovered, and when you blinked next, his visage nearly melted away into something more normal— but those glowing eyes didn’t disappear, simply dimmed. He smiled softly at you, and offered his hand to shake. “No worries, you were fairly engrossed in your task. I’m Dr. Rogers.” Your heart stuttered a bit. This was Dr. Rogers? Holy fuck. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m sorry I’d shake your hand but I literally just worked out and my hands are so gross.” You weren’t fully lying, your hands were sweating and you were still in your workout gear; your duffle in the corner holding your jumpsuit and the back of your door held your blazer; but the truth is you didn’t want to touch him or accept anything from him. He’s not human. The little voice inside your mind whispered. 

He smoothly placed his hand in his pocket, still smiling, albeit sharper now; and seemed to be staring at you. Waiting. For what? “Well uh, I have to get ready for the day… it’s good to meet you.” You offered a small tight smile. “Of course, I was just hoping I’d learn your name?” He responded. Never give them your name, if you give them your name you give them power over you. You swallowed harshly, trying to find a loophole or escape, and it came in the form of Shayna as she called your name. “Ope, I see you’ve already met our sunshine!” She said, fully opening the door to see Dr. Rogers and you looking at one another. “Sunshine?” Another voice piped up, and looking for Dr. Roger’s shoulder, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from gasping. Same pointed ears, same sharp teeth; but those eyes… blue with a ring of gold glowing as they looked at you. And you knew he knew you could see through it… the glamour. It wasn’t working on you. 

Why the fuck wasn’t it working on you?

When you blinked, the visage melted just like Dr. Roger’s had, but the golden shine remained, making your stomach flip. “Yeah, the first time we all met as a cohort, she came bounding in dressed in a gorgeous yellow maxi skirt and,” “My Hadestown T-shirt on, looking like a ray of sunshine.” You both finished together, shaking your head with mirth at the reminder. “And the nickname was cemented. Especially the day I went frolicking in the rain.” You added, grin gracing your features. The two men, fae, stared at you in a moment of awe and hunger. Yes, they’d come here partly to see if they could tempt one of the only humans who had managed to escape their trance back in Wicklow, but they weren’t expecting this. You could see them despite the glamour… 

Bucky and Steve had always known they were meant to be together, but in the last century they had begun to feel an ache. A missing piece. One no other fae could fill, and so they began visiting the human realm, they studied in the universities, worked on and off again, attained high degrees and titles all while searching for the one to ease their ache. Despite it all, they couldn’t find their missing piece… but in Wicklow as they and other fae folk, would try to lure in new toys… there you had stood; denying temptation and fighting that seductive pull so many would succumb to in seconds flat. And now, away from that portal and sacred ground, you stood before them and saw them as they were, and you knew exactly what they were… and the flash of defiance in your eyes told them you were doing just that here, too.

After short pleasantries, with you reiterating your name to them (Because surely just stating your name wouldn’t get you whisked away to fairyland after someone had already said your name), they greeted you properly, by name…And Jesus, your name sounded so good coming from their lips. Fighting back the blush that was surely gracing your cheeks, you smiled kindly at them. “You’ll often hear me referred to as sunshine or sunny, feel free to do so as well.” Before they could respond, your phone buzzed; it was 8:30. You needed to get dressed and get your lesson plan organized for the day. “Well, welcome to the department, as much as I’d love to keep the convo going, I have to prepare for class. Good morning to you both, Dr. Rogers, Dr. Barnes.” You nodded to each as Shayna ushered them out and away, quickly but calmly closing the door after them. You clicked the lock, backing up to your desk and gripping the edge of it as your heart raced in your chest. 

The new fucking professors were Fae. How the fuck was that real? God you felt like you might throw up. Thank goodness for the distraction that was your teaching schedule. 

Bucky and Steve lingered for a moment outside of your office, listening as your breathing quickened and as you began moving around. Smiling, they looked at each other with mischief twinkling in their eyes, before catching up with their tour guide, Shayna, to meet the rest of the faculty.  

You were able to go the rest of the day successfully avoiding both of the new doctors in the department, deciding that instead of working on your dissertation after your 12:30 course, you’d head to your favorite coffee spot instead to put space between yourself and campus; away from them. Sitting in a corner booth, sipping your usual, you gleaned through web page after web page of Celtic mythos. Any mention of Fae or Fairy was control-f-searched and read through. So far you learned the difference between the seelie and unseelie, what gentry fae were, and the conspiracy that Hozier and Florence Welch were unseelie and seelie fae, respectively. Nothing about being able to see past a fae’s glamour— lots ON what glamour was, and on the do-and-do-nots you already knew, but nothing helpful for this situation. You were half tempted to hop on Reddit and be like “hey r/fae what happens if, hypothetically, a human can immediately see through a fae’s glamour?”… but you weren’t that desperate. 

Yet. 

Sighing and finishing your coffee, you shut the laptop and rolled your neck. You’d initially been working on the revision comments on your third chapter of the dissertation, but the thoughts of those two men kept invading your thoughts… It became clear that until you researched what was pulling at the edges of your brain, then you’d get work done. Sighing, you check your phone for texts from the cohort before you leave to get ready, making sure karaoke is still on. Every Friday night since the first year was karaoke night for the cohort at your local haunt, and after a day like today? You were treating yourself to a Jameson Whiskey, Ginger, and Lime. Maybe two. Walking out to your car, an old but reliable blue sedan that used to be your parent’s, your steps faltered. Stuck under one of your windshield wipers was a small bouquet of flowers. But not just any flowers— purple tulips. 

When you were in Ireland, specifically when you were in Cork, your tour guide had explained the battle between the fae folk that had happened; and that wherever you might see tulips or daffodils was where the grave of a fairy was. You remember seeing various patches of such flowers in Wicklow Forest… and those purple tulips, so rich and vibrant it made your head kinda hurt to look at, had only been spotted deep in the Forest. You’d seen them near the fae portal, the one you nearly walk through in every dream since visiting. But you also knew the meaning of purple tulips thanks to a book in the language of flowers you’d picked up at a thrift store during your travels in London; those flowers on your windshield represented nobility and royalty, luxury, new beginnings… and admiration. 

Swallowing hard, you glanced around, searching for the source but finding the street empty. Don’t pick them up, don’t even touch them, it’ll come across as acceptance. Fae folk are tricky like that, just use the wipers to get them off. Your inner voice warned, sounding so much like your departed grandfather…and it hadn’t let you down yet. You knew there were so many loopholes in which a fae could claim their intended target, and you refused to be caught in one. You fought too damn hard to be here, a doctoral candidate, so close to the PhD you could taste it, to let some supernatural bullshit steal it all away now. 

Your wipers sent the flowers flying, and throwing your car into drive, you drove forward and off toward your apartment complex, the wind carrying the rest of the flowers away. 

Bucky picked up the discarded flowers with a sigh, not disappointed but wistful. “She’s smart.” Steve said, twirling a discarded flower between his finger tips. “She’s done her research, that’s for sure.” Bucky agreed, wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist as they walked back to the coffee shop. “It’ll make the end of the chase so satisfying, though, won’t it buck?” Steve teased, pressing a kiss to his mate’s cheek. “Oh, absolutely Stevie. And I heard from a little bird that there’s karaoke tonight…” Bucky grinned deviously. They’d have a blast teasing you tonight, testing your knowledge and pushing the bounds. 

“Sunny! You made it!” Quinn, one of the third year doctoral students, shouted with joy as you walked into the bar. “Jesus, Quinn, I think the whole of town knows I made it now!” You teased, winking at him. “We’re getting the set list together, any song requests?” If you hadn’t done Careless Whisper for the fifth time in a row the previous week, you’d go with it, but seeing as things were getting flipped upside down in your life, you decided a little Billy Joel was in order. “Key up Movin’ Out for me, and maybe a Chappell Roan for round two— not Pink Pony Club! I think I almost blew my vocal cords last time I attempted it.” You called, before sauntering over to the bar. 

Laying down your debit card and ID, you pointed to the bottle of Jameson on the top shelf. “I’d like a whiskey ginger lime with Jameson; and go ahead and open a tab for me.” You requested with a smile. The bartender checked your ID, then handed it back and nodded. You waited patiently, leaning your back against the bar to watch the entrance. Slowly your cohort, and the ones under yours (it was the third year; how the hell did y’all become the ‘elders’ of these students already?) trickled in and waved. Shayna, obviously having pre-gamed, waves enthusiastically before skipping to Quinn. “Here you are, enjoy.” You turned and took the drink, thanking the bartender and moving to join your friends. 

Bucky and Steve slipped into the bar while a group of students sang ‘Its My Life’, quickly clocking where you sat sipping on a cocktail and cheering on your friends. As your nickname suggested, you looked as radiant as the sun in a beautiful yellow dress that was the shade of the last rays of light before dusk, golden. Ordering two whiskeys and sitting in a corner booth, they watched as you joked, giggled, and drank while your friends sang on the stage. When you neared the end of your drink, Bucky approached the bartender with a disarming smile. “You see that gal over there? She’s a doll ain’t she? Well we work together, and I saw her drink was running low, go ahead and make her another on me.” He winked, the bartender near swooning as they nodded and got to making the drink on Bucky’s tab. 

Let the new challenge begin. 

“Alrighty sunshine! Are you ready to grace us with some Billy Joel?” Shayna teased, and you groaned before nodding and finishing your drink. You’d need it. Grabbing the mic from her, you watched the screen as the familiar intro played, but felt the hairs on your arms stand up as the weight of someone’s eyes settled on you. It wasn’t until you were halfway through the song that you looked out past your friends and saw those glowing blue eyes from the morning gazing intently at you.

 “You should never argue with a crazy mimimimind; you ought to know by now! You can thank Uncle Sam with the overtime; is that all you get for your money?” 

You sang, shifting your gaze away as quickly as you could, focusing back on your friends. Fae be fucking damned, you told yourself mentally, even as you felt a warmth come over you- obviously just the alcohol hitting your system, right? Not attraction. After wrapping up, you happily handed the mic off to the next person and approached your table, where a new whiskey ginger lime waited for you. “I didn’t order another,” you said looking at Shayna puzzled. “Oh yeah the bartender said that someone bought you a drink!” A cold feeling hit you, and you looked up towards where you saw them, and narrowed your eyes as they raised a glass to you. Fuck their fae trap, you weren’t dumb. 

To Steve there was nothing sexier than the way you came striding over, your hips swaying as you did, a look of determination and annoyance clear in your features. “Well hello, sunshine. How are you this fine evening?” He greeted, mischief in his eyes as he smirked at you. “I’m just dandy, Dr. Rogers, Dr. Barnes.” You greeted curtly. “Oh please, mo ghra, leave the formalities for work! You can just call us Steve and Bucky.” There was a flash of recognition at the pet name, it sounded familiar, but you pushed the thought down and stored it in your mind for later. Right now you need to set these two on track. Placing the drink down before them, you crossed your arms and looked down at them.

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, looking at you with faux confusion. “Is the drink not to your liking?” You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Oh I’m sure it is if you had the bartender make exactly what I ordered, but you both surely know I’m not that naive.” “And, pray tell, mo ghra, why would we think you’re naive?” Steve asked, that mocking tone of concern in his voice. Bucky’s lips slightly turned upwards at the way you clenched your fists. “Gentlemen, let’s cut to the chase;” you leant down, hands resting on the table of the booth, as they leaned towards you as well. “I know what you are, you know that I know; and you know that I know the rules. Save your trickery for someone who wants it.” You whispered, before straightening with a smile. “Now, y’all enjoy your evening, I’m sure I’ll see you around on Monday.” And with that you turned on your heel and marched back to your friends. Bucky watched as you retreated, letting out a low whistle. “Goddamn I love a feisty woman.” Steve nodded, plucking the drink up and taking a swig. “Oh god,” he groaned at the taste. “She drinks Jameson. We’re keeping her forever, Buck.” Bucky laughed, deep and melodic, making you turn towards the sound whether you meant to or not. He winked at you, and you quickly looked back to your friends, a warm feeling settling in your stomach. Goddamn hot fae. 

The weekend was blessedly calm, and the next school week started just as calm. The fairy circle from the previous walk was gone, allowing you to relax and simply listen to your music as you disassociated on what you planned to do with the remaining revisions you had left for your dissertation draft. Monday had passed clear of any issues, same for Tuesday and Wednesday. 

Thursday? Well… That was another story. The morning began as usual, you ate breakfast at the bar in your apartment, fed your lizard (Stella, shout out to Tennessee Williams), and made your way to the campus lake walking trail. Headphones in, blasting Kendrick Lamar (squabbling to warm up, amiright?), everything felt just right. The mourning doves were twittering about and the sun was cresting up; it was peaceful—until the sound of jogging and a musical voice broke you out of your thoughts, calling—“On your left, sunshine!” Looking back, your eyes widened at the sight before you. Dr. Rogers, shirtless, jogging up to you. God how did he get that six pack? Did he lift fucking trains instead of traditional weights? 

“Good morning, mo ghra.” You blinked, when did he get right beside you? Oh god you’d been staring off into his fucking abs. God smite you now. Swallowing thickly you looked away, a flush on your cheeks. “G-good morning, Dr. Rogers.” You replied, suddenly finding the lake much more interesting to look at than him. Steve made a tutting sound, and suddenly a warm hand was guiding your chin back to look at him. His touch felt like electricity and it shot all the way down into your toes. “Now, now, Miss Sunshine, what did I ask you to call me?” His eyes were fucking hypnotic and goddamn it all you could drown in them. “Sunshine?” His hand was cupping your chin now, thumb stroking your jaw, waiting patiently for an answer.  “S-Steve. Good morning, Steve.” You stuttered, trying to get your breathing to calm down. His gaze softened at the sound of his name on your lips, his thumb lifting to brush your bottom lip, a soft smile on his face. “Good girl.” Your knees felt shaky, and you quickly pulled away, clearing your throat and looking away, feeling your face turn at least five shades redder. “Well, uh, this was fun for a minute, hehe, but I’ve got to finish my workout.” You said, deciding the best course of action would to be to turn your ass around, power walk back to the beginning of the trail where your car waited, and say fuck it to making the full loop around the lake. 

The blue eyed and blonde fae had other plans for you, as he grasped your wrist in his hand. Instinct made you jerk, refusing to be caught, but instead of letting go he simply spun you back around to face him, then let your wrist drop. “Walk with me, I need to cool down anyways.” He said, and you knew it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ you would but whether you’d try to run off (yeah, fuck that) or just bite the bullet and walk with him. “Fine, let’s walk then.” You huffed, walking past him to continue forward. He fell in step with you, letting you set the pace. The music you’d been playing could faintly be heard from the headphones, your favorite music the only sounds other than the birds, bugs, and your breathing. The silence wasn’t half bad, to be honest, it was kind of nice. Just walking, feeling the sun warm your skin and the breeze cool your still flushed face. As the end of the trail came up, and the view of your car parked by the lake got closer and closer, you felt a sense of relief sag through your shoulders. As you came to a stop at the trailhead, you opened your mouth to say goodbye (so you could run) but before you could, Steve had placed his hands on your shoulders. That warmth from before came shooting through you, causing you to shiver. “Your shoulders sure are tense, sunshine. Let me help with that.” His eyes twinkled, and before you could say no thanks, he was turning you around. 

And holy fuck did he have magic hands. You didn’t mean to, but the audible groan of satisfaction that rolled out of your lips, made you blush as he gently kneaded your shoulders. You swore you could hear his smirk as he continued to massage the tensions from your muscles. Time felt like it slowed, but in all reality, Steve only massaged for around five minutes…maybe 7? Your brain was a little fuzzy.  “Feel better, mo ghra?” You shivered, pulling away from his grasp and turning to face him. Without the glamour, his hair seemed to have a shine of its own; true golden strands mixing with light blonde; and his eyes… The blue seemed to match the color of the sky, but darkened as you gazed at his face. Blinking, you shook your head and took a step back. “Y-yes. Th-uh, you didn’t have to do that.” You responded, glancing away, not being able to bear the weight of his gaze, cursing yourself for almost fucking up and thanking him. You couldn’t say thank you, manners be damned, as it would be too easy for him to twist and whisk you off. He stepped toward you, and in startled stepping backwards, hit a bench you didn’t know was there, resulting in you involuntarily sitting. He smiled, a bright and dazzling smile holding no malice but maybe a twinge of mischief, as his hands rested on either side of the bench’s back beside you. Effectively caging you in.

Despite working out he smelled good- how the fuck did that work? He smelled of crisp apples and cinnamon; and petrichor, the smell of the rain. It was intoxicating. God help me I think I’m gonna sin. You thought, biting your bottom lip as he leaned in. You swore he was going to kiss you, but instead he rested his forehead against yours. “If you keep looking at me like that, mo ghra, I won’t be responsible for my actions in the future.” Your breath hitched as his eyes became stormy, the blue swirling like a sea churning. What does it mean?” Your voice was soft, as if speaking the words any louder would make him disappear. Pulling back slightly and tilting his head with a furrowed brow, he asked “What does what mean, sunshine?” You closed your eyes, stealing your courage. “That word, the mo ghra, you keep calling me. What does it mean?” He chuckled, shaking his head amused. “For a gal who loves Celtic mythos and Jameson, you don’t know much Gaelic do you?” The question made the hair on your neck stand up and you felt defensive. “I know ‘mo’ means ‘my’, but alas writing a dissertation has resulted in my Gaelic getting rusty.” You sassed, crossing your arms as you stared defiantly at him. Now he laughed, a real genuine laugh that made butterflies erupt in your stomach. It was beautiful, and held such joyful emotion it felt near infectious. But you wanted an answer, so you needed to focus. “Oh darling sunshine,” he finished his laughter, leaning in close again. For a moment you thought he might really kiss you, and you wondered if that’d be such a bad thing as your eyes fluttered closed, but instead you felt his breath on your neck and his lips by your ear. “It means ‘my love’, mo ghra.” Now it was your turn to laugh, shocked, leaning back and away from him. “Haha, very funny, Steve.” You said, expecting to see a mischievous, or hell a cruel smile, waiting for you. 

Instead his face held nothing of the sort. It was open, serious, and genuine. “Why? Why call me that?” You breathed, not quite a demand but also not quite just a question. Certainly not a question you’d be okay not getting the answer to. Steve leant back toward you, and your heart skipped a beat. Swallowing harshly, you stared back at him, refusing to look away, to be weak or scared despite the way your body was trembling. His breath was warm as it fanned across your face, and your heart rate picked up as his face got close to yours. “The real question sunshine is why you don’t think you’d be worthy to be my love, when you’re the only one to see past my glamour on the first glance.” Your breath caught in your throat. The only one? “There’s no way, surely there’s been others?” He laughed without humor now, his eyes closing briefly, before opening them back up to show the glowing hues of blue dancing in his irises. “Oh sweet sunshine, how wrong you are. There is no one that is like you.” His voice deepened, damn near coming out like a growl as his forehead rested against yours. 

Your hands came up to his shoulders, not knowing whether to push him away or pull him close. The tension between the two of you could be cut with a butter knife. The sound of your phone ringing broke you two apart, and you gulped in the air you didn’t know you hadn’t been breathing. It was Shayna. And it was 20 minutes before your colloquium class. “I, I have to go.” Thankfully Steve had stepped back, the glamour firmly put back in place but his eyes no less haunting than before. “Of course,” he nodded, before grasping your free hand in his to help you stand up. Instead of letting go, though, he brought your hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “See you around, mo ghra.” You bit your cheek hard, his lips felt like fire on your skin, and if you didn’t know any better you’d probably throw yourself into his arms and kiss the daylights outta him. But you did know better— and you knew that the fae were tricky. Pulling your hand away, you gave him a nod before walking away. The minute you left his eyesight, you sprinted to your car, threw your buckle on and tore ass out of the parking area. 

The rest of that week had been spent finishing revisions and grading elevator-pitch speeches, and avoiding the new faculty like the plague. Luckily no one had questioned you, thanks to being a freshly made doctoral candidate, so you were able to get work done and push the lingering feeling of warmth from where Steve had kissed your hand. But then, that next weekend, you found a new fairy circle. One made of mushrooms, on the outskirts of the forest line by your apartment. It was an area you liked to go sit in and write when you couldn’t look at screens or take the sounds of your apartment complex anymore. You’d almost stepped into it, but the deep red of the toadstools caught you off guard, making you back up. Inside the circle looked to be a note. Try not to study too hard, solynshka. — B. You looked up and around, startled. How the fuck did they know where you lived? And how did they know you liked to sit there? You, again, side stepped and moved back towards the apartment complex, deciding that maybe the study rooms provided by your apartment would be safest right now. 

Oh how wrong you were. Sure there were no portals to accidentally step into, but then the dreams started up. It started as the other dreams had, with that memory of standing in the Wicklow National Forest. 

You barely felt the chill of the cool spring air on your face as you stared intently into the doorway, familiar blue eyes with a ring of gold around the pupils, glowing like that of a wolf’s, giving you the impression that they were studying you just as intently as you were them. You knew those eyes…You swore you knew those eyes but you couldn’t put your finger on how. The woods around you were alive with the soft sounds of rustling, bugs chirping, and the breeze through the leaves above you. Then you’d feel hands on your arms, and suddenly you weren’t in your layered hiking clothes anymore, but the yellow maxi skirt and tank top you’d worn to the New Faculty Potluck the week after Dr. Barnes and Dr. Rogers had arrived. You blinked in confusion, your head feeling fuzzy at the sudden change. Calloused hands rubbed up and down your bare arms, and the heat of their palms made you feel almost delirious. Their touch, and the gaze in the doorway that seemed to twinkle with delight, created such warmth inside you, you felt tipsy. “Bheith linne, mo ghrian.” Lips caressed the shell of your ear, and you sighed dreamily as the Irish Gaelic washed over you. “Let us take care of you, solynshka..” Another voice, from the doorway, purred. “Please.” You whispered, and felt yourself stumbling, reaching for the portal.

You shot up, heart racing, sweat down your back… and panties wet. Surely this was just a… weird wet dream induced by all the books you’d been reading and the stress of two fae appearing suddenly in your life.

But that wasn’t a one-off dream. And soon those eyes and touches began to drive you slightly batty. Every dream began the same, and ended with you inches closer to stepping through the damn doorway before you would shoot up in bed, or the alarm would sound. 

Four weeks to the day that they arrived, you were finally able to find a spot, sans fairy circle, with a good night's rest thanks to melatonin and the sleepy girl mocktail, to enjoy a little picnic while reading over your first fully-completed draft of your dissertation. You were playing the jazz playlist you made in year two to help with focus, enjoying the trumpet of Moonlight Serenade by Glen Miller floating around you. Chewing on the last of a bunch of green grapes, you closed your eyes and tilted your head up to the sun shining on your cheeks, relishing in it. A rustle of leaves made your eyes snap open and the sight before you had you nearly choking on said grape. James “Bucky” Barnes was walking toward you with a grin on his face, a book tucked under his arm and a thermos in hand. “Fancy to see you here, solynshka.” He greeted, plopping down in front of you and making himself comfortable on your picnic blanket, despite no invitation to join you. His glamour was just as beautiful as his real form, but definitely not as stark as his true form. His eyes still shone with a slight golden glow around his irises, but they made you feel more… safe. At ease. “I could say the same, Dr. Barnes, not many know about this spot.” You trailed off, looking back down at your writing, hoping he’d get the hint. 

He didn’t, of course, instead you quickly found your dissertation out of your hands and in those of the man across from you. “Hey!” You said, reaching across the cloth to grab it back, but your other hand, which you’d put out to steady you as you reached, didn’t quite make contact with solid ground, causing you to fall right into him. Somehow you landed with your head in his lap, looking up as he studied what you’d been reading. “Dr. Barnes,” you moved to get up, but his free arm came to rest on your abdomen, hand warm and steadying, keeping you in position. “Shh, shh, solynshka, I’m reading. And you know what to call me, don’t you?” He glanced down at you, the golden ring around those steel blue eyes glowing as he looked at you. Your breath hitched, but just as quick as he looked you in the eyes, he looked back at your paper. You lay there for a few minutes, listening as the jazz music from your phone continued floating around you both, the sounds of him turning the pages… 

Finally, you decided to say fuck it and just give him what he wanted. “...Bucky?” He hummed, looking down at you with a smile that made you feel dazzled. “Yes, solynshka?” “Why did you come out here?” He smiled, putting your dissertation to the side so he could trace your features. His fingertips ghosted over your forehead, the bridge of your nose, the bow of your lips, down to your jawline and back up to your hairline. “Because of you, solynshka… You’ve been avoiding us, doll.” I bit my lip, closing my eyes. “I needed to finish my work.” You mumbled, argument weak even to you. “Mmm, yes I know, doll. You’ve been working so hard, won’t you let us help you relax?” 

Bucky smirked as a blush settled across your cheeks and you shook your head. He allowed you to sit up when you moved his hand from your abdomens and rolled to the side. “You know I can’t let that happen.” You said, scooting back to where you originally sat. The more distance you put between this magnetic motherfucker the better. “Mmm, yes you do see hell bent on not accepting anything we have to offer.” His tone was teasing, but the look in his eyes told a different story. Those baby blues looked like a storm, and the emotions you struggled to decipher except for one; frustration. You clenched your jaw, he had no right to be frustrated at you! If anyone had a right to frustration it was you. “Because I know the rules, Bucky. And I’ve worked too fucking hard to get to the point I’m at to be whisked away by, by…” You looked away, catching yourself before you said something you’d regret. By fae? By two hot men? By chance?

 “By fate?” Your head snapped to look at him. His gaze darkened as he drank in the way your shoulders tensed, your eyes wide, your mouth dropping to say something but stopping before you did. “That’s what this is, solynshka. Fate. Why else would you have seen past all of this,” with a wave of his hand, the glamour dissipated, and all that remained was the raw, beautiful, true form of the fae before you. The gold in his eyes seemed to hold you hostage as he inched closer to you, your stomach doing flips and heart rate picking up. “With nothing but a glance?” You opened your mouth to argue, to, say something! But in a blink, he was kneeling in front of your criss-cross form, hands cradling your face and tilting it upwards to look at him. Your breathing was shallow, heart racing as his thumbs stroked your cheeks, and the heat of his skin settled into your bones. “Oh my little sun; my solynshka…” he leant down, pressing his forehead to yours, a minick of what Steve had done a few weeks back. His eyes remained on yours, and you could not bring yourself to blink. 

His lips were close to yours now, you could feel his breath against them, and you felt that familiar heat sink into you as you thought about what it would be like to press upward just a little, and feel those lips on yours. He seemed to read your thoughts, as his thumbs gently caressed your jaw, his eyes reflecting a longing that nearly took your breath away. “We just want to adore you, doll.” He whispered, face dipping so his lips could brush against your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to catch your breath and not let the feeling of his stubble against your skin make you melt. “I can’t, we can’t, I-I have to finish what I started.” You whispered, opening your eyes to look at him. Your hands grasped his wrists, gently squeezing, begging him to let go before you did something irrevocable. 

He let go of your face, but caught your hands in his, stroking the back of them with his thumbs. “I suppose you do… but so do we, solynshka.” Lifting your hands to his lips, he pressed a kiss to each, before letting go, standing, and picking up his book from your picnic blanket, and the thermos. “Until later, sunny.” He winked. And then… he was gone. You quickly gathered your items and made your way back to your apartment, but not before freezing. “What the fuck did he mean but ‘so do we’?!”

From there on you did your best to try and avoid the two fae. 

Key word, try. 

The dreams had somewhat let up, but that seemed to be due to them somehow becoming embedded into your schedule. Bucky took a keen interest in your dissertation, and much to your chagrin, your advisor agreed to let him help you. And, frustratingly so, he was good at helping! Whenever you found yourself in a writer’s block—or thought that your eyes would melt if you stared at a screen trying to define “performative communication” for one more fucking second—he would swoop in and save the day with outside perspective, a fantastic source, or a simple walk to take a break. A walk you made sure was in the building and not anywhere you could accidentally walk into a fucking fae circle.

And then there was Steve, fucking Steve, who was somehow always sliding observations and suggestions for your classroom and lessons, under your office door every other day. You knew he wasn’t going into your office, but somehow the papers ended up on your desk, with new ideas and options to enhance your curricula and teaching. At first you had ignored it, feeling offended that somehow your teaching wasn’t up to his standards… but then it seemed Shayna, Quinn, and even some of the first year PhDs were receiving similar tips and tricks… to wonderful consequences. When you began implementing some of the suggestions in your public speaking class, you found your students more engaged than before… Therefore you begrudgingly left a plate of your famous cookies outside his office door one day; not as a thank you… but a peace offering. 

By the time the end of October rolled around, it was time for your annual semester teaching observation. Somehow, someway, Steve was “assigned” to be your observer to provide feedback on your teaching. You nearly spat your coffee out in front of all the freshmen in your public speaking class when you caught sight of him at the back of the lecture hall. You’d known you were being observed that day, but assumed it’d be the usual colleague, John, to watch as he had the previous fall semesters. 

Fucking wrong. 

You recovered as well as you could, forcing yourself to lock-in on the students and the material, and avoid looking at Steve at all costs. Your students didn’t seem to find anything off, and some of them were distracted by Steve himself (he was incredibly attractive), so with ten minutes left in the class you decided to let the kids go early. A treat for getting all their topics for persuasive speeches approved, and outlines roughly drafted. As you gathered your items, you expected to see a somewhat cocky Dr. Steve Rogers when you looked up, but instead the classroom was empty. You frowned, a little disappointed at missing trading jabs with him, when your phone buzzed. Clicking the notification, your email app popped open, and your inbox lit up with one new message from Dr. Steven Rogers. 

Let's chat about my observations from your class tomorrow morning. Campus lake trailhead, don’t be late. —S.G.R

Your eyebrows furrowed. You didn’t work on campus on Thursdays, and therefore had gotten into the habit of hanging out inside; especially as the weather began to grow cooler. Not only that, you’d taken refuge inside your apartment, barely leaving unless for appointments or to grocery shop. Basically to go to any space where you didn’t have to worry about accidentally stepping in a fucking fae circle! Part of you wanted to tell him to shove it (politely of course, he was still her superior, technically) whereas the other part was curious as to why he couldn’t stick around and chat seeing as how you had the minutes left in the class time slot that y’all could have talked; therefore you wanted to go. 

Stealing your nerves, and expecting for there to be a level of professionalism that should transcend the weird game of cat and mouse y’all had going on, you responded with a simple “Okay, see you then”. 

That night you tossed and turned, trying to (but failing) to fall asleep. Every time you grew close to falling over the edge of sleep, something would wake you up. Sometimes it was a feather light touch, or a whisper of something you couldn’t understand but a voice you knew. Finally, at five a.m, you sat up and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pressing them into the floor while you bent over and cradled your head in your hands. Might as well start the day, you thought ruefully, stumbling to the bathroom and turning on the shower. All you had to do was get dressed, meet with Steve, and then you could come back to the apartment and collapse for a nap. A long, well deserved, fucking nap.

It was around 7:30 a.m. when you arrived at Campus Lake. Dressed in your favorite fall fit (and boots, an emphasis to show you were here to chat not work out) you begrudgingly got out of the warmth of your car, immediately tucking your chin down further into your scarf. It wasn’t alarmingly cold (yet) but the chill of autumn was quickly being chased by the freezing cold of winter. Tucking a small notepad and pen into your jacket pocket, and rubbing your gloved hands together, you made your way toward the trailhead of the lake. The sooner this meeting was done, the better. 

“Good morning, mo ghra.” You’d been staring out at the water, at how a fine mist had begun moving across the surface, reminding you of scenes from Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Turning, you bit back a gasp of surprise, as the glamour you had gotten so used to seeing was dropped, and there stood Steve Rogers in all his fae glory. His lips were curled into a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat, his stormy gaze full of tenderness. “G-good morning, Steve. I, uh, guess we should get this show on the road.” You murmured, rubbing your hands together, trying to bring warmth to your fingers (damn cheap gloves). Steve held out a hand toward you and, when you paused, tilted his head almost…predatorily as a small smirk replaced his smile. “I won’t bite, sunshine, I promise.” He teased, and taking a breath you slipped your hand into his. 

His hand radiated warmth through the fabric of your glove, and you swallowed the sigh of comfort that threatened to escape. You simply let him lead the way, the effects of not sleeping well (or at all), kept you preoccupied (you really didn’t want to fall asleep while talking to him, so you focused on forcing any yawns down). So lost in your own world, you hadn’t noticed him leading you off the trail and into the woods, not until he came to a stop. “Good morning, solynshka.” Bucky purred, standing up from his position on the blanket. You blinked, hazy, confused, at what was before you. A veritable breakfast feast laid out on a very soft looking green blanket, with fruits shining and the aroma of fresh bread wafting in the air mixing with a variety of breakfast meats. Swallowing hard, you looked to Steve, then Bucky, then Steve again before settling on Bucky with confusion in your eyes. “Uh, good morning, Bucky… I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand what’s going on.” You fought back a yawn at the end of your sentence, using your free hand to gently pinch the bridge of your nose. Steve and Bucky looked at each other and smiled softly before nodding. Steve gently tugged you closer to the blanket, rubbing his thumb over the back of your knuckles. “You’ve been working so hard recently, we wanted to surprise you. Of course I do want to discuss observations from yesterday but… Well, we’d much rather take care of you, mo ghra.” You glanced up at Steve, and inhaled sharply when you felt an arm snake around your waist. Bucky pressed his lips to the crown of your head, the touch warming you from the inside out. Their scents surrounded you—the spice of patchouli and the freshness of crisp apples wrapping around you—made a soft whimper fall from your lips. Your brain felt fuzzy, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up on the soft looking picnic blanket and be taken care of. 

“Come now, solynshka, let's sit down.” Steve let go of your hand to let Bucky guide you onto the blanket. Bucky grinned when you gasped in surprise as he pulled you into his lap, settling you between his legs so you could lean back against him. “B-Bucky I can sit on my own.” You argued, trying to be firm and pull yourself out of the haze you were in. You tried to squirm out of his lap, but an arm around your middle kept you firmly against him. “I know sunny, you’re capable of anything you put your mind to, so let us take care of you.” He whispered in your ear, and you shivered at the feeling of his breath fanning across your neck and shell of your ear. Steve smiled, a bright smile that could make the sun jealous, as he sat across from you with a cup filled with something steaming that smelled delicious. Your throat felt so dry suddenly, and when he offered the cup to you, you took it. Your mouth watered as you raised it to your lips, and you paused, looking at Steve. He smiled encouragingly, his eyes still full of that tenderness you glimpsed earlier, and you thought what the hell. Tipping the cup back, you sipped the warm liquid. Flavors burst across your tastebuds and you groaned, earning a chuckle from both men. Warmth spread down your throat, throughout your chest, and you swore you felt it down to the soles of your feet. 

“What is this?” You asked, passing the now empty cup back to Steve. “It’s cider, made from an old recipe from home.” He replied, in which you hummed in acknowledgment as he refilled your cup before handing it back. Then he gave Bucky one before pouring himself a cup as well. “A toast, to new beginnings.” He grinned, and Bucky grinned at him over your head as you gently clinked the cup with Steve and Bucky’s, the meaning flying over your head. The cider made you hum with delight, your body feeling warm and almost floaty. When you finished your second cup, Bucky suggested trying the fresh bread with homemade jam, which at the indication of your growling stomach you agreed enthusiastically. Then Steve offered you a couple pieces of bacon that looked better than any you’d ever cooked, which you gratefully ate. As the three of you ate quietly, you felt an odd sensation come over you. “Feeling better, mo ghra?” Steve’s voice was like honey, dripping down your spine. “Mhmm.” You hummed, leaning back against Bucky’s chest. “Told you we would finish what we started, solynshka.” Bucky murmured, lips caressing your temple.

A moment of clarity hit you like a freight train, the sound of your grandfather’s voice echoed in your mind as you felt your heart rate speed up. If you eat their food, or drink their drinks, then wave goodbye to the mortal plane- because you’ll be off to a new realm… The lack of sleep combined with the voices (their voices) waking you up on the cusp of slumber, images of their eyes when you closed yours, the feather light touches that sent you shooting up in bed… it was all them. And this had been one big ploy to get you. “You gave me fae food.” You whispered, looking into Steve’s eyes. The glamour had long been dropped, and his eyes seemed to glow brighter than they ever had before. “Yes, we did, mo ghra.” He was closer now, hand caressing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into his touch, his palm warm against your cool skin. 

“Why?” Steve caught the tear that rolled down your cheek, and sighed, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead. “I think you know the reason, mo ghra.” You shook your head, pulling from his touch, scrambling out of Bucky’s lap to put distance between yourself and the two. You rubbed a hand down your face, trying desperately to wake yourself up, to bring yourself to your senses as the magic in the food began sinking into your bones. Why would they do this now? Why get so close in the first place? “We just want to take care of you, sunshine.” Your eyes snapped open, eyes glancing to Bucky and his golden and blue eyes, then to Steve who smiled in pride. You had met them before, damn it, and it had taken you so fucking long to realize from where. God, you felt like such an idiot. “Wicklow. It was you two in that portal in Wicklow, last spring when I was visiting Ireland.” Your breaths came out sharper now. “Yes, Wicklow, sunshine.” Steve affirmed. Red hot anger shot through you as your eyes watered, and you stood to your feet as you glared at them. “So this is for what? Because I escaped? Because I didn’t fall for your trap? Why integrate yourselves in my life, why act like you care, especially now?”   

“Because you're ours, solynshka.” Bucky growled, standing up and stepping towards you. You stepped back, partly in shock, partly in fear of his anger. “Only a mate can see past the glamour of another fae.” Steve said, and your eyes snapped toward him, looking into his stormy gaze. “Mate?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “Yes sweet girl, mate, our missing piece.” Bucky was standing before you now, moving faster than you could have thought, and resting his hands on your hips. You inhaled sharply, swallowing harshly as what felt like electricity shot through you. Steve stood up as well, and Bucky spun you around to face him, keeping his arms wrapped around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Everything was moving so fast, and yet the world fell away as Steve spoke.  “We’ve been searching for you for centuries, mo ghra. You have no idea how much you make us feel.” Steve’s voice was husky, his hand cupping your jaw and tilting your chin upward to look into your eyes. “Then show me.” You challenged inhibitions falling away. Steve’s grin was nearly feral as both of his hands cupped your cheeks before capturing your lips, and breath, in a fierce kiss. 

It felt like sparks. 

Bucky let go of you as you wrapped your arms around Steve’s neck, his hands quickly pulling you to his chest, pressing you as close to him as possible, gasping when he nipped your bottom lip and licked into your mouth. You forced yourself to pull back so you could catch your breath, feeling light headed, your body flush and wanting more. “My turn, punk.” Bucky’s voice was light and teasing as you were suddenly spun around, Bucky’s hands cradling your face. The rings of gold around his baby blues held you captivated. “My little sun.” He grinned, before gently pressing his lips to yours. You tilted your chin up to deepen the kiss, gladly opening when he licked the seam of your lips. You held on to the lapels of his jacket as he claimed your mouth, tongue caressing yours and pulling moans from your throat. “I think we better take this home, don’t you, Buck?” Your eyes were dilated, your body feeling both light as a feather but suddenly heavy as lead. “I couldn’t agree more, Stevie. Our little sun needs to rest before tonight’s activities.” Steve grinned and swept you into his arms, bridal style. You squeaked and grabbed onto him so as not to fall. You felt so sleepy all of a sudden, and couldn’t help but yawn as you rested your head against Steve’s shoulder. He hummed in content, nodding to Bucky. In the blink of an eye, the blanket and picnic were gone… All that was left was a careful circular formation of stones. 

“Let’s go home, mo ghra.”