Six months into the agreement, the entire United States was in an state of ordered lockdown, thanks to the coronavirus pandemic. You were hanging out with Chris at his house — under the close eye of the paparazzi, of course — when the call from your PR agent came. 

“You’re off the hook, I guess,” she informed you. “With social distancing and lockdown and everything, you two can’t be going back and forth. His team acknowledges that, too, so we’re calling the deal fulfilled.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

You ended the call and frowned; what was this weird feeling you had? Not that you minded Chris, but the entire dating situation had been coerced, a farce. Social distancing had come to your rescue here. You could get on with your life, eventually meet someone for real. 

“But I don't want to distance from him.”

You said it, out loud. The words caught you by surprise but were quickly followed by a smile. Sometime in the last few months, you had actually developed feelings for Chris; he made you laugh, was respectful of your boundaries within the whole agreement, he did nice things when he didn’t have to do them. Sometimes it was entirely in private, too, when no one was watching. Maybe there was a chance … 

He was still in the living room, lounging on the couch. He looked up when you returned, tossing the remote on the coffee table. 

“I got the call, too,” Chris said, stretching his arms above his head before twisting one way and then the other to crack his back. “Guess we’re off the hook.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what my girl said. I guess …”

Chris licked his lips. “Food’s already on the way. We can eat before you go, if you want.”

You nodded. “Mmhmm, yeah. I was thinking, actually, maybe we — I mean, yeah, we can eat first, but maybe I’ll just — I mean, if you’re interested and this isn’t too forward or assuming, maybe we could, you know, tough out this lockdown together.”

The last of the sentence came out of your mouth in a rushed rambling of words. You prayed to God that Chris had understood what you said because you weren’t sure you had the courage to repeat yourself. As it were, he smirked and stood up from the couch, coming towards you with a look that made you want to rip your clothes off then and there. 

“Is this part of the act?” Chris asked as his hands gripped your hips. 

You shook your head. “It’s not. At all.”

He smiled and tugged you closer to him — however that was possible. “We could be stuck together for a while, you know. They say a few weeks, but this could go on for months.”

Your hands rested on his forearms before sliding up to his shoulders. You gave a little shrug. “I’m game, if you are.”

“I’m game,” Chris whispered against your lips.

 In the next second, Chris was pressing his mouth to yours in a first kiss so sweet, you knew that, even if the pandemic did go on for months, it wouldn’t be enough time to steal all the kisses you wanted from this amazing man. 

Her tears came to an abrupt stop. “Are you fucking kidding me? You think I don’t have demons of my own? You think the things that I have done, the lives I have taken, don’t haunt me in my sleep? At every waking moment? I see their faces, every time I close my eyes. You are not the only one with blood on your hands, Bucky Barnes.” She stood and clenched her fists at her sides. “If you think that I’m one of those agents who was bred into this because my parents were in the first wave of S.H.I.E.L.D agents, who can handle all of this and then sleep at night like it’s nothing, you don’t know me at all.”

She stepped up to him and took his face in her hands before kissing him softly. She wiped her taste away with her thumb before taking a step back. 

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

For weeks after the split, they avoided each other at all costs. If she rounded a corner and saw Bucky coming her way, she backtracked and took the long way around. If Bucky was headed to the common room but heard her singing along to the radio before he made it there, he turned on his heel and got what he needed elsewhere. Every now and then, he could bribe someone into getting what he needed, but the whole crew was running thin on that arrangement. 

“You could talk to her, you know,” Sam suggested. 

Steve nodded his agreement. “At least work out a schedule of who can be where and when. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, but hey, at least then you two can have a more normal life and the rest of us can stop making money off of your awkward situation. Besides, it’s been … how long has it been? Surely long enough for you two to be adults about the situation.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “If she wanted to talk to me, she’d come to me and say what she needed to say.”

Nat came into the room and sighed. “Not necessarily, Barnes. I’ve talked to Y/N about it and she doesn’t want to be in your way anymore than you want to be in hers. To be honest, I’m not so sure that this break-up is really worth the trouble when the two of you could just talk it out and work through your problems.”

“We wanted different things,” Bucky mumbled, “and that hasn’t changed. What I want hasn’t changed.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Her. You want her, stupid. The rest of it is called compromise. You should look it up sometime. Y/N can stop moping around, you can come back from the dim place. Everyone can be back to their normal lives.”

“The dim place?” Sam repeated. 

“Yeah, you know. Not the dark place. He’s been in the dark place. This sucks but it’s not as bad as the dark place.”

“Makes sense,” Steve commented; Bucky looked to him for confirmation that his best friend agreed with Nat. “Hey, it’s not bad advice. I mean, she's also the one who told me to ask out the chick in accounting with a lip piercing.”

Nat punched Steve playfully in the shoulder. “Hey, she was nice!”

They all laughed about the idea of a freshly-thawed Steve dating a girl with a lip piercing; Bucky had to admit, it was nice to have the attention off of him and Y/N and on to a different subject. 

Attention rescue team; emergency extraction call received. Departure in three minutes and counting. Rescue team; extraction mission imminent. Three minutes and counting. 

FRIDAY’s voice pulled most of them from a steady — or not-so-steady — sleep and into action mode. A team raced for the quinjet, in uniform and ready for a debriefing as the jet took off.  

“Secretary of State was abducted by a Russian militia organization. Our job is to go in, extract, get him home. I’m waiting now for reports on what kind of arms they have on the ground,” Tony informed as he set their destination into the navigation system. 

Y/N buckled in and let out a deep breath. Flying was something she was getting more used to, but she did better when she knew the flight was coming. Several minutes into the flight, her tension was redirected from a few bumps of turbulence to the unexpected hand on her shoulder. 

“You doing okay?” Bucky asked. 

She pulled her shoulder from his touch. “Yeah, fine. I’m always fine.”

He smirked just a little. "I know you are, but the flying …”

“I’m great, Sergeant Barnes. Just peachy.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line and he sat back in his seat. Y/N kept her eyes forward, her expression stoic, even as Tony took the jet higher. Her jaw was clenched though, giving away her nerves. Bucky decided the best thing to do would be to keep an eye on her; be supportive from a distance. 

The mission started out well enough. They located the Secretary easily — too easily, really. Nat, Wanda, and Clint went ahead of the group to keep the path clear back to the quinjet; Tony and Rhodey were on either side of the Secretary; Y/N and Steve were right behind him; Bucky brought up the rear. 

No one was quite sure where the first shots came from. The Secretary groaned and grabbed for his left shoulder as more bullets whizzed past the group. Tony and Rhodes took one arm each and flew him back to the quinjet while the rest of them went on the defensive. 

Y/N was taking a mental head count of everyone running in front of her; Nat, Wanda, Clint, Steve — check all. Where was Bucky? Emotions took over and she spoke into the comm. 

“Barnes, send back.” When no answer came, she stopped in her tracks. “Barnes! Send back!”

Still no answer. Her eyes met Steve’s for a brief second before she was turning and running the other direction, away from the rest of them. Steve was yelling behind her but she wasn’t about to stop and wait for whatever it is he had to say. As she got back to where the shooting had started, she started calling Bucky’s name. Her heart raced with frantic emotion at the million possibilities that could be keeping Bucky behind. 

A Russian militiaman was positioned over Bucky, fists flying. Bright red blood pooled under Bucky’s thighs and spurting with each heartbeat made Y/N panic that his wounds were fatal as is, without a beating on top of it. A feral yell rumbled from deep in her chest as she rushed the other man, knocking him away from Bucky and tackling him to the ground. 

Her own fists were flying now, lashing out at the man who might dare to take Bucky away from her. Somewhere in her mind, Y/N knew that getting Bucky medical attention needed to be a priority, but she couldn’t stop her anger from taking control at that moment. 

“Y/N, hey, come on! Enough!” Steve yelled, finally catching up to her. He pulled her away from the Russian, who had gone unconscious at some point. His face was bloody and mangled, but his own people would have to take care of him. 

Steve assessed Bucky’s other injuries while Y/N used her belt as a tourniquet around his leg. Between the two of them, they managed to get him back to the quinjet without much more incident; the second the were on board, Tony raised the bridge and took off. 

“What happened?” Nat questioned, helping to get Bucky laying down. She grabbed for a first aid kid and found some gauze to place over the bullet wound while Y/N threw her gloves off and took his face in her hands. 

“Bucky! Can you hear me? Look at me, Buck! You stay with us, all right? We’re going to get you back, they’re going to take care of you. But you have to fight too, you have to stay with me,” she pleaded, tears filling her eyes when his eyes met hers. “Please, Bucky. You can’t leave me like this, okay? We’ve got too many days of awkward interactions ahead of us.”

Bucky’s mouth pulled into a weak smirk as his cold, shaky hand came up to her cheek. Y/N leaned into it, still pleading quietly with him not to leave her like this. 

“Everything’s okay,” Bucky whispered, only a couple of seconds before his eyes closed and his hand fell away from her face. 

Hours passed in agony as you waited outside the medical bay for any updates on Bucky’s health. She didn’t change out of her uniform, didn’t bother to get cleaned up, only followed his gurney as far as they would let her go. After that, she found a chair and fell into it, determined not to move until she had some concrete information. 

“Here,” Nat said, nudging her with an elbow. “Water and coffee. I’ll bring you food when you can stomach it.”

Y/N took the water bottle first, downed half of it, then set it aside and sipped at the coffee. She probably did need to eat, but the very idea of food make her stomach churn. Nat stayed but didn’t speak. Y/N waited a full minute before she broke the silence. 

“He was trying.”

Nat frowned. “Bucky?”

Y/N nodded. “On the quinjet. He knew I was going to be anxious about the flight and he asked if I was okay. I blew him off. I didn’t want his sympathy because I’m still so mad at him. How could he think that I was — that I couldn’t understand where he was coming from? Maybe not to the extent that it was happening, but I’m not innocent, Nat.”  She scoffed. “And how could I not be more understanding? How could I walk away from him and not show him how much I love him. How much I need him.”

“You need each other,” Nat offered. 

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

She sat silently with Nat for the next several hours. There was still no word, and no one would let them into the medical bay. Nat had finally convinced Y/N that she needed to shower when Dr. Cho came out to update them. Y/N bumped into Nat, she turned around so fast after hearing her name being called. 

Helen drew in a deep breath. “Bullet nicked his femoral artery, but fortunately, I think his advanced healing process saved his life. We did the rest of the surgical repairs and I believe if he can pull through the next couple of days, he should be in the clear.”

Both Nat and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief. The women hugged briefly before Y/N asked if she could see him. 

Helen smiled. “Of course; he’s been asking for you. We wanted to give him time to pull it together after the surgery.”

But Y/N only the first of Helen’s sentence. She raced into the medical bay, stopping once to ask which room Bucky was in. When she got there, she was nearly breathless. 

“Wondered if you were gonna come see me,” Bucky mumbled, giving her as much of a smile as he could manage. 

She stood next to his bed and took his vibranium hand. “Bucky, I’m so sorry …”

“Hey, you’re not the one who shot me.”

“Don’t joke,” Y/N scolded. “You know what I mean. I shouldn’t have walked away, shouldn’t have brushed you off in the jet. What if you hadn’t made it?”

Bucky squeezed her hand. "Hey, c’mon, sweetheart. I’m all right. I’ve been through worse than this.”

“But not with me so mad at you,” she whispered. “I don't want to do this anymore, Buck. I don't care how much we fight or how much we push each other away. I don't want to have the horrendously gigantic cloud lingering over me that one of us could die and you wouldn't know how much I love you.”

Bucky reached up to caress her cheek; this time, his hand was warm, steady. “I can't promise to give you everything you want right away. I still am who I am, Y/N. But I sure as hell can try.”

She leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Who you are is exactly who I fell in love with. Trying is all I ask.”

He pulled her in for another kiss. There would be plenty more to be discussed, when Bucky was fully on the mend and ready for it. The fights would come, the darker days would come. As long as neither of them gave up on each other, though, there would always be a light in the darkness. 

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @gifted-burnout​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​ @averyrogers83​ @jennmurawski13​ @connie326​ @disastersoldierbucky​

Tony cleared his throat. “Darling, you seem to be having some kind of emergency. Is it, in fact, aliens coming down through a hole in the sky?”

The depth with which he could hear her inhale told Tony that he was potentially in for an ass-kicking when he made it back to New York. 

“No, not aliens, not a hole in sky, but your fucking firstborn making it’s way through a hole —”

Tony interrupted her again. “Okay, breathe, deep breaths, like they taught you in the class. I’m on my way.” He disconnected the line amidst more screaming from his wife and told Happy to pull over. “I’ve got to get back to New York faster than we can get there in the limo.”

Happy frowned. “The airport is several miles away …”

“Not going in a limo,” Tony mumbled, accessing a setting on his watch as he got out onto the sidewalk. “Baby’s coming, so there’s no time.”

By the time Happy had put the vehicle in park and got out of the driver’s seat, Tony was fully suited up and blasting off toward the opposite coast. 

Sweat had plastered your hair to your face and forehead. The contractions had started so suddenly and progressed so quickly, there was no time for an epidural. Thank God Rhodey was in the city and FRIDAY had been able to contact him quickly — especially since Tony wasn’t answering any of his communication devices. 

“You got this, Y/N, you can do it, c’mon,” Rhodey encouraged, letting you squeeze the hell out of your hand and making sure his back was turned toward the business end of the bed. You didn’t care, but he was sheepish about these things, you guessed. 

You groaned as the urge to push hit you. “I am not a recruit, Rhodes, I am in labor. I appreciate the encouragement but maybe — yeow!”

The doctor finished checking you and started to gown up. “Mrs. Stark, we can’t wait any longer, I’m afraid. Time to push.”

Your whole demeanor changed at that point, from angry and frustrated, to downright afraid. Tears filled your eyes as you begged the doctor to wait just a few more minutes. 

"Tony will be here soon, I know he will! He was in California and it takes time to get here, even with the suit, but he wouldn’t miss this, I know he wouldn’t!”

As if to emphasize your point, a loud thud sounded from the hospital roof. You raised your brow and Rhodey grinned. 

“I would say he’s proving your point,” the man chuckled. 

But the pushing couldn’t wait; neither the doctor, your body, or the baby would have it with any more stalling. Knowing that Tony was there and on his way gave you a bit of hope that he wouldn’t miss your child coming into the world. 

“Hope I didn’t miss the main event,” Tony quipped, breezing into the room. He was huffing and puffing a little, but what did it matter — he was there. 

You let go of Rhodey’s arm (that man quickly excused himself from the room) to grab for Tony’s hand. He kissed you and then your sweaty forehead, apologizing for not being there sooner. 

“Forgiveness will have to come later, Mr. Stark,” the doctor spoke up, “I see a head coming down.”

“That explains the pain,” you groaned. 

Tony climbed on the bed behind you to give you something more sturdy to brace against. He held both of your hands in his set his cheek against your head. 

“We’ve got this, babe. You and me, almost three. Here we go.”

He kissed your cheek as you bore down and worked on pushing that baby out. Your labor had progressed quickly and delivery wasn’t so different: three pushes and a crying, screaming little girl made her way into the world. 

The doctors and nurses made quick work of cleaning her off after Tony cut the umbilical cord. He climbed off the bed so that you could be taken care, going between checking on you and stealing peeks at your daughter. 

When you were finally cleaned up and stitched up, a nurse came over with a swaddled bundle of pink and approached Tony. 

“Mom warned us you don’t like to be handed things, Dad, but …” 

“There’s an exception to every rule.” Tony held his hands out to take the baby into his arms. He held her so carefully, you gave a tired chuckle. 

“She won’t break, love.”

He carefully sat himself next to you and positioned the baby so she was half with you, half with him, requiring one arm from each of you to hold her stable. Tony put his free arm around you and shook his head. 

“Just can’t believe I managed something so amazing,” he breathed. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder and looked at your daughter. “And that’s coming from Iron Man.”

Tony laughed. “Iron Man pales in comparison to her.”

“I don’t want to bring you down, but I tend to agree,” you teased. “Hey, where’s Happy?”

“Probably on a plane from California to New York,” Tony answered, unfazed by anything save for his daughter. “You think she’ll be an engineer?”

You pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged. “We’ve got time for her figure it out.”

“Hey,” Tony beckoned; you looked up at him. “Thank you, for the most amazing gift anyone’s given me.”

You smiled. “It’s a gift for both of us. I love you, Tony.”

“Love you more, Y/N.” He pushed the blanket away from the baby’s face and gently ran his finger over her soft cheek. “And I love you, tiny thing, more than you’ll ever know.”

Three more guys had you weighing your losses on that sign-up fee. What a mess this had turned out to be — and the sad part was, you couldn’t even blame your friends or anyone else. You had decided to do this all on your own. The bell rang for the next round to start, but you gathered your purse and sighed, preparing to push out of your chair. 

“Damn, did I scare you away already? Usually I can at least get one date before I have to wonder where a girl disappeared to.”

You dropped back into your seat to give the man a good tongue-lashing (more from your frustration with yourself than him) but his blue eyes were shining and his lips were smirking. 

“Are you teasing me before you even introduce yourself?” you asked, one brow raised. 

He chuckled. “You just looked so frantic to leave, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”

“Y/N,” you offered, forgoing your last name for the time being. “What do you do, Bucky, besides tease desperate women who make the mistake of coming to one of these things?”

Bucky laughed again, but it was a genuine reaction to your statement. “I work in special forces, I guess you could say. Recon. Nothing that keeps me busy enough to stay away from friends who insisted I come here and find a date. What about you?”

You told him about your day job. “Other than that, I spend time with friends and family, but everyone else is finding a significant other and I guess I was feeling lonely. So here I am.”

“How old are you?” Bucky inquired. He tilted his head to the side as though he wanted to figure it for himself but couldn’t land on a number. 

You gave him your age with only a slight blush. “Too old for shenanigans, too young to pass up dating events. How old are you?”

Bucky winced. “I’m several years older than you.”

“How many years?”

“At least ten, I’ll tell you that much.”

You could work with that; Bucky seemed like a nice, relatively normal person, anyway. You opened your mouth to ask another question, but the buzzer went off, signaling that it was time to switch again. 

Bucky leaned forward on the table. “You know, if we both left, they’d still be even on participants. I know a great shawarma place not far from here. I mean, I’ve never eaten there, but my friend Tony raves about it.”

“I could eat,” you nodded, gathering your purse again and scooting away from the table to take Bucky’s outstretched hand. 

He escorted you past the sign-up table, through the lobby, and out onto the sidewalk. You expected him to let go of your hand but he held tight as the two of you walked toward the restaurant. You took turns asking questions and telling about yourselves, not caring at all that all of New York City seemed to be on that sidewalk. 

The shawarma place was small but the food was delicious. A couple of hours passed before the two of you realized. When you decided you needed to get home, Bucky had the grace to look only a little disappointed. He dropped a few bills in the tip jar on the counter and followed you back outside. 

“I had fun,” you smiled. “It was a pleasure getting to know you more, Bucky Barnes.”

“Likewise, Y/N,” he grinned, nervously reaching for your hand. “Could we do this again sometime? I mean, it doesn’t have to be shawarma, of course. Could be Italian, Japanese, a movie, a play. A walk in the park. Whatever you wanna do. But, I’d really love to see you again.”

You face heated with innocent excitement at the prospect of seeing Bucky again. “I’d really love that. I’ll give you my number, if you promise to call.”

Bucky smiled. “The end of the universe couldn’t stop me.”

Y/N thought about that for a good minute. She wanted to answer honestly, but she simply didn’t know — and she told Kennedy as much. 

“There was a moment the other night, when he came and proposed, just the way I had told his mother that he had done. He hugged me really tight and I sort of cuddled into him. I could just breathe in his smell … it was so strong and masculine and comforting … so Seb. And I thought, ‘Yeah. I could get used to this.’” She shook her head and set her coffee on the bedside table. Her stomach wasn’t up for consuming anything. “But that doesn’t mean I’m in love with him, and it certainly doesn’t mean I should get used to anything in this little arrangement.” 

She slid off the bed and went to unzip the garment bag that protected her dress. Anytime now, Georgeta, Milena, Y/N’s sister-in-law, and her grandmother would be joining them in the room, anxious to get the bride-to-be wedding-ready. She ran her fingers softly over the pretty embroidery on the dress and shook her head. 

“My feelings aren’t the most important thing at the moment. Getting through today, getting Sebastian custody of Milena — that’s what’s important. Finish that coffee, I’ll call down to room service to bring up a spread for the ladies coming to meet us soon.”

Y/N couldn’t meet Kennedy’s eyes. If she did, she knew that the confused feelings brewing within her would only bring her to tears, and she refused to cry anything but happy tears on her wedding day. 

Sebastian couldn’t stop looking at the clock. Every minute that passed, he was one minute closer to marrying Y/N; one less minute she had to back out on him. Not that he expected that of her, but, well, he was nervous.

“I was nervous too, the day I married your mother,” Anthony commented, taking over the cufflink Sebastian had been working the last few minutes to secure. “Marrying someone with a child is a big commitment. You were older. We knew how custody was going to work with you. Marrying someone who hasn’t had that child very long, leaves a person with a lot of unknowns.”

The younger man frowned. “You think this is a bad idea?”

“Not at all,” Anthony assured with a kind smile. “What I’m trying to say — and I guess not doing a great job of saying — is that you’ve found someone really special, Sebastian. I’m very proud of you and I’m very happy for you.”

Sebastian’s shoulders released some tension. “Thanks. That means a lot, really. Mom and I both lucked out with you, I think.”

Anthony clapped him on the back before pulling him in for a hug. “Anything you and the girls need, come to us. We’ll help you. We’re here to help you.”

“Thanks.” He looked at the clock again. “An hour. How is there still an hour to go?”

With a roll of laughter that can only come from someone who has lived through the same experience before, Anthony clapped his stepson on the back. 

“C’mon, let’s get you a beer to take the edge off. Shall we?”

“Yeah, a beer sounds good,” Sebastian sighed, heading down to the kitchen with Anthony. 

Y/N’s grandmother zipped up the back of her dress, and her stepmother helped her balance while she pushed her feet into her shoes and fixed the buckle. She stood and smoothed out the dress, tucked her curled hair behind her ears, and took a shaky breath before going to the floor length mirror to get a good look at herself. 

“So pretty,” Milena told her, smiling shyly as she leaned into her grandmother. 

Y/N looked at the small girl, wearing her own pretty dress, and grinned. She remembered now why she was doing this; why her own feelings didn’t matter. She would have a good life with Sebastian and Milena, for as long as they would have her. Milena would have the support and the family she needed. Sebastian wouldn’t crash into parenthood alone. 

Y/N crouched in front of Milena, careful not to crease her dress. She took Milena’s hands in her own. “Not as pretty as you. It’s just about time, princess — you ready for me to marry your uncle?”

Milena nodded emphatically. Y/N held out her hand and the two of them walked ahead of the other ladies, hand in hand all the way to the courthouse. 

Despite the beer he’d had before coming to City Hall, Sebastian was well-aware of his nerves as he waited for their appointed ceremony time. Y/N was waiting behind with Milena and her father, wanting to wait until the last possible second before Sebastian saw her. 

“Give me that much tradition, anyway,” she had smirked. 

He could see that it was something important to her, and once she walked through the doors, her arm hooked through her father’s and her other hand holding tight to Milena’s, Sebastian decided the wait had been entirely worth every second of anticipation leading up to the moment her father placed Y/N’s hand in his. They both leaned down to kiss Milena on the cheek, then sent her to sit with Georgeta for the rest of the ceremony. 

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, taking her hands in his. 

She smiled up at him and he knew his compliment had gone far. “Thank you. You’re quite handsome in that suit.”

He smiled, too. The justice was ready to start the ceremony then, but Sebastian couldn’t take his eyes off of Y/N; she was truly a vision in that embroidered dress. She was done up more than her everyday appearance, but she was still the woman he knew. He was proud to know that she was his, at least for a little while. 

In fact, he had a difficult time keeping up with where they were at in the ceremony for all the staring at her he was doing. Y/N didn’t seem to notice, and thank goodness Sebastian was paying enough attention to know when it was his turn to speak. 

Repeating after the justice, Sebastian said the vows they had chosen together. “I promise you, Y/N, that I will be your loving and loyal husband from now on. I will share with you all of life’s joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, until death parts us.”

Carefully, he slid the band from her wedding set onto her finger. Her eyes were glazed with tears, and Sebastian hoped they were happy ones. Y/N slid a gold wedding band on the appropriate finger of his left hand and repeated the same vows. Her voice caught and a couple of tears fell before she go to the part about death parting them; perhaps knowing the vow was a lie already was difficult. He would have to remember to apologize to her later; he would never stop thanking her for doing all of this for him. When her vow was complete, she squeezed his hands and let out a deep breath. 

“As a ceaseless reminder of this hour, and of the promise you have made to each other, these rings also speak of the oneness you now experience as husband and wife. By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I officially pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide; Sebastian realized they had never discussed this part. Of all of the people watching, though, only Kennedy knew that this was not a marriage borne of love, but of necessity. Of one friend in need and the other friend coming to his aid. Quickly taking control of the moment, Sebastian dropped her hands to cradle her face. 

“I love you,” he whispered before pressing his lips to hers.

Her response was soft and hesitant at first, but after that first initial meeting of their lips, she pressed into him, her arms going around his neck. Sebastian wrapped his arms around her middle to have her as close as possible. Were it not for the applause of their audience, he might have let the kiss go on until she pulled away. 

The reception dinner was a small affair, only attended by the family members who had attended the ceremony, Kennedy, and a couple of other local, mutual friends. There was good conversation and lots of laughter. The newlywed couple felt so much love surrounding them. 

At the end of the night, Milena went home with her grandparents. Y/N and Sebastian headed to a different room in the Waldorf — a gift from his parents — amidst a beautiful sparkler send off. Kennedy winked at Y/N when the girls hugged, letting her friend know the sparklers had been her idea. Even under the circumstances, she appreciated that Kennedy had remembered Y/N always liked the idea and made it happen for her. 

The cab ride to the hotel was quiet. They were both tired, but also anxious. There were certain things expected on a wedding night … kissing to seal their vows in front of everyone was one thing. Sleeping together was an entirely different story. 

Once in the room, where their overnight bags had already been dropped off, Y/N dropped down to the mattress and gave him a nervous smile as he locked the door behind them. 

“Comfy,” she commented, though they both were already aware of the quality of beds in the hotel. 

Sebastian nodded, nervously shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m pretty tired. You?”

She shrugged. “Tired, yeah. A little overwhelmed.”

Kicking off his shoes, Sebastian announced that he was going to shower; she should go ahead and comfortable, get to sleep, if she wanted to. Y/N nodded and waited for him to leave before moving from the mattress. 

As it was, when he came out from the shower, shirtless in gym shorts, his hair still dripping a little, Y/N was still in her dress, leaning back against the headboard with her legs and bare feet stretched out in front of her. She was flipping channels on the television but smiled when she saw him. 

“Can’t get the zipper,” she chuckled, “otherwise I’d be in pajamas by now. Do you mind?”

She came to stand in front of him, sweeping her hair out of the way. Sebastian licked his lips and, with shaky hands, slowly pulled down the zipper at the back of her dress. With the pull tab down as far as it would go, he could see black lace peeking out at him; it matched the bra straps coming over her shoulders and securing behind her back. He swallowed so hard, it had to be audible. 

“Is that it?” Y/N asked. 

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut for a second and cleared his throat. “Yeah. Sorry.”

He hadn’t realized his hand was resting on her hip until she turned to thank him and they were suddenly centimeters apart from each other. Sebastian’s hand came up to caress her cheek. Y/N’s eyes were wide and searching his face for any type of explanation as to what he was thinking. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his head falling toward hers. “Thank you, Bright Eyes, for marrying me today.”

Barely able to breathe, let alone manage words, Y/N only nodded. Her hands came up to the backs of his arms and rested there. Seconds that felt like minutes passed in antagonizing suspense before Sebastian cupped her chin and pressed his lips softly to hers — the way he would have done if they had continued their kiss from earlier in the day. 

Y/N didn’t hesitate this time to return his kiss; it was as though she had been waiting all day for him to do this. Her hands slid up his arms before clasping behind his neck, pulling him into her even more. She was the one who first ran her tongue lightly over his bottom lip, but Sebastian happily and willingly allowed her access. 

It wasn’t until, from instinct, he gently pressed her back toward the bed that they parted. He kept his hands at her hips until she was steady, then took a full step back. 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N. This wasn’t part of the deal. I don’t expect — that’s not what you agreed to.”

“It was both of us,” she excused. “Not saying it’s not good that we stopped. That’s a big line to cross. The last few weeks have been a rollercoaster of emotions and we should be careful not to feed off of that.”

“You’re right. Anyway, I’m going to get some ice. I’ll let you do what you need to do.”

She didn’t say anything — hell, she wouldn’t even look at him. Sebastian cursed himself all the way down to the ice machine and back, wondering how many more times he was going to risk ruining his closest, most important friendship before this was all over. 

Comfort came for him when they settled into bed, finally, and Y/N scooted right next to him and laid her head on his chest. She held her left hand up for both of them to see; the diamond sparkled from the light of the television in the otherwise dark room. 

“Can’t believe we got married today,” she breathed. 

Sebastian smirked and put an arm around her. “Me either. Regret it yet?”

She sat up only enough so she could turn and place a chaste kiss on his lips. “Not for a single second. Do you?”

Sebastian shook his head and kissed her again. She settled back against his chest, drawing in a deep breath before her eyes fluttered closed. He knew that he should sleep, too, but instead he lay awake for a couple of hours, working to process through the feelings that seemed to suddenly be too much for his mending heart to contain. 

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @captain-rogers-beard​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @jackryanplz​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​ @averyrogers83​ @jennmurawski13​ @connie326​