The Sound Of Small Footsteps Running Across The Wooden Floor Stop You From Your Speech And You Turn Your

A One-time Job - Vol 2 || Marc Spector x Reader || Steven Grant & Reader

Vol 1

Summary: Marc finally calls you after two months, only to drag you into another adventure among Cairo's sands

Warnings: none, just Steven in an attempt to be funny

Word count: circa 6900

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader, Steven Grant & Reader

Authors: Fenrir & Cass

A/N:  we have a non-linear story here that will kinda initally not follow the plot of the show until we deem otherwise - due to this fact we inform that Marc does not have a romantic connection to Layla. Also, red italics indicate Khonshu, green italics indicate Steven speaking within Marc’s mind

He was reluctant to call you, but he wanted to hear your voice again.

Marc wasn't sure how you would react to his call since it had been almost two months since your adventure. Since then, he hasn't contacted you; first, he didn't know what to tell you or how to act after your affair, and second because he didn't want to cause any more problems for you.

With his flipphone pressed to his ear, he waited for you to answer the call.

Currently, you were hanging from a harness that prevented you from falling to your death. While it wasn't comfortable, it hugged you well enough so you felt safe.

Apparently, one of your friends found a temple hidden deep in the caves, so you had to check it out.

As you focused on the descent, you twitched, scared by the sudden sound of your phone.

After pulling the rope to stop it, you reached into your pocket to look at the screen. Marc's name appeared on the screen. "Well well well! Look who has finally called me! How are you, handsome? Are you stepping on someone's toes once again or did you miss me?"

As he said, "Hi, Y/N," Marc was hesitant at first. "I missed you long enough, so I decided to take the first step since you didn't seem to be reaching out. Are you in Cairo?"

You casually swung your legs, saying, "Um... Nope. I'm currently hanging pretty high up in a cave. I think there are some hard rocks under me. It doesn't seem that dark there. Why? Do you need help robbing another tomb or even the pyramid itself?"

"If you're able to meet me next week at the same bar in Cairo, I'll tell you everything."

You huffed and then looked down. While discovering some ancient temple hidden in a deep cave would be fun, seeking an adventure in Cairo with MARC would be even more enjoyable and warmer. "Oh, sweetie! If you ask me nicely, I can get there as soon as possible."

Laughing softly, he cleared his throat. "Y/N, I'd like to meet up next week at our bar. In addition, I missed your scent."

"Oh, my, oh my, this sounds like a nice invite, and I'm pleased to hear we have our own bar. It's settled then! We'll meet up in OUR bar next week. I can't wait to see you."

"Thank you and please be careful in the cave. I'd rather have you whole, not just a piece."

Marc smirked proudly at his reflection in the mirror after he hung up. "Good job, man."

"Shall I remind you that Layla is also interested in you?" Steven asked mentally, but Marc just shrugged.

Placed the phone back in your pocket, you giggled and pulled at the rope. "Ey! I need to get up now! Get me up!"

There was no time to waste so you simply dumped your current working partner. 

Before you grabbed your backpack and left, you instructed the team what to do, so you weren't such a bad friend.

It was wonderful to return to Cairo.

You decided to rest since you still had a few days before meeting with Marc.

After preparing your stuff, you spent most of the night in bed reading and smoking.

You were eager to see Marc again on the day of the meeting.

You kept playing with your scarf around your neck as you walked to the bar. Suddenly, excitement turned into stress.

He had already smoked a few cigarettes, which turned out to be a bad idea - his stomach was twitching and he was feeling a little nauseous.

Order yourself some whiskey, it'll help, Khonshu advised, but Marc almost immediately regretted listening to God again. Still, he downed two more glasses and waited impatiently for you to arrive.

After taking a deep breath, you nodded to yourself and decided to walk in.

Finally, you spotted his messy hair after looking around.

Seeing as he sat with his back to you, you took advantage of the opportunity. Your palms covered his eyes as you sneaked up behind him. "Guess who?”

He placed his hands on top of yours. "I guess she's a young, beautiful woman who likes to sneak on older men."

Your hands slipped off his eyes so you could fully wrap them around his neck. You nodded, nuzzling his cheek. "You're right, sweetie. Glad to see you again." After kissing his cheek, you took a seat in the chair next to him.

"Long time no see." He smiled brightly at you and reached out to caress your cheek with his palm. "Can girls get even prettier?" he asked.

Chuckling, you leaned into his touch, rolling your eyes a little. You're still a sweet talker, huh?"

As he gently touched the lower side of your cheek, almost on the jawline, feeling a scar under his fingers, he said, "Yes. You like adventures, and you also got a souvenir. What happened?"

You suddenly turned red, not expecting him to find that scar. You shrugged nervously. "Nothing too serious, little fight."

He warned softly, "Don't hide things from me. I know I've pulled you away from your second expedition, but I finally had the manuscripts translated. It's about the Anubis statue we discovered. There's a hidden tomb. His tomb. Near Giza."

Laughing, you moved your chair a little closer to him, clearly interested. "What's the plan? Are we going to get shot or is this a clean job?"

Marc replied, moving both hands through his locks to take them back, "I'm afraid option number one is preferable."

Groaning, you rested your forehead against his shoulder. Having a calm trip with him would be nice, but apparently, he enjoyed trouble more than you did. "You're a troublemaker, huh? Then why are you here?"

"Artifact. It's supposed to be hidden in the tomb."

"Cool, cool and what will you do with it? Would you consider yourself a private collector? Or do you sell those things?

"Let's say I'm a collector. Once you come to my house you'll be able to see my collection."

"That would be nice since I invited you last time," you patted his shoulder. It already sounded interesting. "So, you know how I am doing. How about you? What were you up to when I was gone? How's Steven?"

"We're looking for someone who has been successful at translation apparently. Steven? Steven is doing well. He has been in charge for the last two weeks since we returned to London. He works at the museum there."

You nodded, "So you collect stuff and he works in the museum?". "I hope he took good care of you then."

"Bravo. You're lying to the girl you like. Are you insane or does that idiot have too much influence over you, Spector?" Khonshu's tone showed his disappointment.

Marc smiled at you, grabbing your palm and saying, "Well, it's more complicated than that. He did take care of him. Or rather, I did."

"Well, I am glad to hear it. I just hope he wasn't too mad at me for waking up in my bed. To be honest, I was worried he would have a heart attack." You gently squeezed his plan. "I'm glad you called."

He pointed to his chest and smiled a little. "Don't worry about heart attacks of any kind. This heart is strong enough to survive," he said. "I missed you terribly."

I missed you a lot and I was also worried, but since you didn't call, I figured I wasn't needed at the moment." You shrugged. "I left my job to help you as soon as possible."

Then Marc leaned forward and stole a kiss from you while looking deeply into your eyes.

As you returned the kiss, you squeezed his hand even harder without realizing it.

As he pulled away, you sighed deeply. "I think this was the part I missed the most."

Marc was about to confess his feelings for you and admit that he had a crush on you when his hand aimed him a hard slap, hard enough to leave a mark on his cheek. "Crap!" Marc exclaimed.

Steven reminded him, "Layla, she also likes you, Marc, so hold your horses."

As you looked around, you made sure no one was watching. It wasn't like you knew him very well, but you never expected something like this. "Is there a problem?" You asked, raising your eyebrows.

Marc hissed a little angrily, mumbling something under his breath. "No."

"I have a feeling you're lying to me, but I'll pretend I do." You kissed the cheek he had just been slapped on. "Maybe we should start planning our next expedition?"

"I'll take you to my place. It's not a flat but a hotel room, but I think you won't mind, will you?"

"I don't mind at all, Marc. Lead the way, we have big plans to accomplish." You said, shivering with excitement.

He stayed in a hotel with a view of the desert. In spite of the fact that it was the middle of the night, you could hear the beetles singing in the distance.

The room had a large bed, a small bathroom, and a balcony.

"Well, Well, Well. I see you like a large bed." As you removed your shoes and jacket, you couldn't help but tease him a bit more. You immediately stepped out onto the balcony.

Upon reaching the balcony, Marc wrapped his arm instinctively around your waist, his face leaned down as he nuzzled into your nape.

"I see you really missed me." Your hands clasped around his waist as you whimpered.

He nuzzled your neck and nodded. "So much. You can't imagine how much."

"It would be nice if you could call me earlier," you smiled and stroked his hair. "But I am here right now."

"I didn't want to put you in another bind."

You turned your head to look at him, giggling. "You didn't so I did it myself. I wouldn't mind some trouble with you, Marc."

While brushing his bearded face against your skin, he shifted a strand of your hair from your neck so he could kiss you there, focusing on his pulsepoint.

"Marc..." You whispered, trying not to moan for him.

Your jawline was kissed as he tightened the hug he was giving you.

"You're such a tease." You growled before making him kiss you.

He couldn't stop himself from feeling hotter and hotter with every second of the kiss. As he pressed your back more against the balcony railing, his strong palms gripped your hips.

You let out a hum, sitting comfortably on the railing. You wrapped your arms around his neck for safety.

You were held down by his arm, which was wrapped around your waist. Marc moved his kisses to the side of your neck again when the kiss was broken, almost moaning. "I love the scent of you."

When he kissed you, you giggled, running your hand through his hair. As you moved your soft hands under his shirt, you were able to touch him. "I would like to find out how soft this big bed is, handsome."

He kissed you once again, making sure you wrapped your legs tightly around his hips before picking you up; one hand under your ass, the other resting on your back as he carried you back to the room and placed you gently on the bed.

As you wrapped your legs around his waist, you joked, "So comfy, I wonder if it's durable."

He pinned you down easily, stealing another kiss from you while his hands slipped under your shirt; he groaned at the softness of your skin under his fingertips.

You moaned into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his touch. You definitely waited too long for that. You were stupid not to have called him earlier, even if it was just to say hello. "Marc... I missed you so much." You whispered against his lips.

Marc kept on kissing you, slipping his tongue past your lips from time to time; his one hand slipped into your hair and he tugged on it gently to expose your neck where he sucked on your pulse point, leaving a visible hickey.

"Fuck!" You shouted for him loudly, not caring whether anyone heard you.

You strode his cheeks when he pulled away and smiled. “As much as I would love to be fucked in the mattress, I just want to be held. Can we... Just cuddle?"

Marc looked down at you, his eyes glistening with lust, but he nodded and rolled to his back, right next to you. “Surely.”

You placed a kiss on his cheek and moved to his neck before looking at him as you hummed. You nuzzled him before whispering into his ear, "Don't worry. I can't wait to feel that cock stretch my cunt."

His voice was barely audible as he spoke, "I regret not calling you sooner. What a fool I've been."

You giggled, blushing. "I wanted to call, but I didn't want to look desperate. Then I waited for your call."

"Kind of the same applies to me," he told you, playing with a strand of loose hair.

This made you laugh. "Apparently we are smart enough to find and raid a tomb but we aren't the best when it came to relationships of any kind."

Marc closed his eyes and agreed. He felt safe and secure in your presence as if all of his demons would have vanished in a flash.

Your head rested on his shoulder as you kissed his cheek. "Marc, where have you been these two months?"

"I had to return to London for a few weeks... Why are you asking?"

You traced a random pattern on his chest with your hand. "I just wondered where you were every evening."

"It looked like my doll was jealous as she thought she might have held some other woman in my arms," Marc teased.

Trying to conceal your blush, you nuzzled his neck. "This, too..."

"Is that so, my cute doll?" He caught your chin in two of his fingers and forced you to look him in the eyes.

Trying to not look him in the eyes, you nodded. "Yes..."

"Look at that, my little doll has grown jealous of me."

Growling, you looked him right in the eyes and nodded. "Yes. Yes, I was worried and jealous that you were busy with other ladies while I waited like an idiot."

"Just so you know, there was no other woman held in these arms. No other lips were kissed, no other curves were caressed by these hands."

You looked at him surprised but smiled and hugged him tightly. "The same is here. I traveled a little, yet I couldn't bring myself to touch, kiss, or sleep with another man. I was just thinking about you and your touch."

Marc closed his eyes, smiling a bit to himself. "I think I have a massive crush on you but on the other hand I'm a tad scared of what you'll think about me when you know the entire truth."

"I am also smitten with you," You said quietly. What is the whole truth then?"

Marc sat up and gently pushed you off his chest.

You sat up as well after he did. "Marc, I am fine. Nothing has changed. I met Steven, and I don't think less of you."

He swallowed a breath as his voice hung. "Steven isn't everything," he said.

"You can't get rid of me that easily, whatever it is," you assured him, rubbing his back.

"Several years ago, I nearly committed suicide in front of Khonshu's statue... Khonshu is the Egyptian God of the Moon. He offered me another chance to live as his avatar. My story sounds ridiculous but it's true," Marc explained slowly, trying to avoid your gaze.

As you stared at him, you asked, "I know who Khonshu is, but I have never heard of such a thing. Aren't gods just stories people made up to have something to believe in and explain things they cannot?"

Khonshu appeared next to the bed, looking pity on you. In a deep tone, he roared, "Girl has no idea what she's talking about. I am the true justice for the wrongdoers!"

Marc exhaled a sigh. "He just stated that he is the true justice."

With an eyebrow raised, you looked around before looking back at him. "He is here? Now?"

Marc pointed at the place where Khonshu stood. "Yes, he is over there."

"Marc. I don't see anything," You sighed. "So, you said you are his avatar. What does that mean?"

"Well, it's complicated. Avatars are supposed to be gods' guides on Earth and carry out their wishes without drawing attention to themselves."

"Are you his puppet then?"

"What a splendid summary she provided us with, worm," Khonshu let out a soft chuckle.

Marc rolled his eyes and flopped back on the bed. "Sort of."

"He isn't hurting you, right?" You asked, moving closer to him. "That's why you are looking for the tombs? Is Khonshu the reason?"

Not necessarily tombs, but those who commit crimes. Stealing ancient artifacts is part of that. It may sound bizarre, but Harrow got his hands on something very valuable. I am now tracking him and his men down to plan a final attack."

"I hope your god-friend won't snatch my head off," you said as you moved behind him to place his head on your lap. "Let me verify if I understand correctly - you are a vigilante in the hands of an Egyptian God of the Moon, beating up bad guys?

Marc laughed softly with his eyes closed. "No matter how ridiculous it sounds, it is what it is."

You ran your fingers through his hair gently. "Indeed, this sounds ridiculous, but we live in a world where there are real superheroes."

"Don't think I'm as fancy as Iron Man or Captain America." Marc chuckled.

Khonshu poked Marc with his cane. "Thanks to me, you are far better than them."

"Oh, c'mon! Don't kill my hopes for a billionaire or a handsome World War II soldier!” You joked and laughed, ruffling his hair. “Sincerely, I admit that this is quite a lot to take in, but I don't think any less of you. You seem to strive to do good things. That's important. Can I help somehow?”

"Oh, yes, she can. In case you get killed, I'll know where to get a new avatar from," Khonshu said before vanishing.

"Oh my God, he's a pain in the ass, I swear," Marc whined and rolled his head more to look into your eyes. "No idea how you could help, but it would be useful if you keep yourself outta any unnecessary trouble."

"Staying away from unnecessary issues will be hard when you're by my side, so I won't follow," you said, rolling your eyes as you kissed his forehead. "I'll do my best to help."

"Aren't you afraid? Scared? Anything?"

As you shook your head, you bounced a little in your seat. I'm not. It sounds nuts but at the same time, it sounds so exciting! Egyptian gods are actually real, and they use ordinary people as their avatars to be somehow present among us."

Marc cocked his brows as he studied your face. "You seem fascinated. I'm glad you aren't taking me, or should I say us, for some weirdo."

"Because it is fascinating! We've been taught our whole lives there is one God and to believe all old beliefs are just stories, but here you are telling me all of that," You said, looking right at him. "How can I not be thrilled?"

Marc rubbed your cheek with his hand, replying, "You're so cute. Little and brave, not scared of anything."

"Should I be offended that you call me 'little'?" You nuzzled his hand. "I am glad you crushed my scooter. I had a chance to meet you."

He smiled. "But look at you, you're little. That's the fact. Little and cute."

Growling playfully, you kissed his forehead again. "You don't sleep much, do you?"

"It's hard, you know? Because I can't be sure I'll wake up in my own body."

Nodding you moved away and started to remove your clothes until you sat just in your underwear. "Don't look at me like this. I won't sleep in my clothes."

He rolled to his side and rested head on his hand propped on the elbow. "Look at that. You're so fucking sexy."

"I know and thank you, but now jump out of the clutches. Time for some sleep. I will guard you.'' 

Marc removed his shirt and pants, staying in fitted, black boxers. He laid by your side, outstretching his arm for you.

You nuzzled to him, pulling the thin cover over both of you. "Comfy?”

"Yes." He replied softly, closing his eyes.

You were never a fan of getting up in the morning. Even at home, you loved to sleep, but the warm sun and noises outside didn't help you sleep.

Your body stretched as you let out a little sigh and opened your eyes. 

The only thing you hoped for was that this Morning with Marc would be different from the first.

His breath was slow and steady as he slept on his belly, face nuzzled to the pillow.

There was no doubt that this was a much more pleasant sight. It looked as though he had gotten some sleep. Following a few minutes of watching him, you moved closer and kissed him on the head.

As Marc turned slightly to the side, his body twitched a little and a soft groan escaped his lips.

"Morning," you whispered, smiling softly. "Slept well?"

"Hey, gorgeous. Yeah, but I wouldn't mind a few more minutes. My head is killing me."

Nodding, you kissed his forehead. "Sure, take your time. I will go to my place and grab some stuff. We still need to find that tomb."

He nodded his head, not bothering himself to open his eyes.

You covered him, and got ready to get your stuff.

The process of gathering things back at home was exciting. You couldn't believe that Marc was back in your life. The things he told you last night sounded stupid but somehow you believed all of this and wanted to help as much as possible.

After collecting your stuff and gear, you headed back to Marc's hotel.

On your way there you visited the local market to find your friend and possibly get some info.

Your research with Marc was great fun; it got more and more exciting every time you two got closer to anything.

Eventually, the two of you found the tomb's possible location. The only thing left was to go there and check it out.

Before you secured the rope, Marc reminded you to be careful.

As you asked, "Are you worried, sweetie?" with a cheeky smile, you jumped down the opening, leaving Marc on top.

"Yes." Marc soon joined you down, using the very same rope you used.

As you untied the rope and turned on the flashlight, you concluded, "Well, that was fun." Glancing around, you felt the excitement building. "Do you see this, Marc?!”

Hieroglyphs covered every wall. You had no idea what they were saying, but the simple sight of them made you jump.

There were boot prints in the sand under your feet, leading further into the darkness of the tomb. "I see that, too." He pointed to the sand under your feet.

"And I was hoping for a quiet adventure with you, but troubles seem to love to follow you... Or be somewhere before you," you sighed and looked at him. "We should be careful."

The man followed the footprints on the sand, ordering you to turn out the flashlight.

It would be easier if there was an open space like last time," you whispered, staying close to Marc. "Do we have any plan?”

"Yes. If it gets heated on, you stay behind and don't try to play a hero."

"You think I will just leave you if it gets heated? You crazy?" You frowned. "Maybe we can sneak past them?"

"Stay here." He ordered, the tone of his voice changed.

The only thing Marc had to protect himself was his hands as he stepped into yet another huge chamber. In trying to circle the group of men who were setting up equipment there, he stepped on an old vase that cracked, attracting everyone's attention. "Fuck." Marc cursed. 

Moments later, his skin turned as pale as his eyes and he knew he was clocking out.

You hid in your hiding place. Again. Just like last time, you simply observed and sneered when he cracked the vase, but things quickly got interesting.

Marc told you to stay, and despite knowing he would be mad, you slipped into the chamber anyway to do at least a little bit of good.

Marc's appearance changed; soon, a ceremonial suit of white armor given by Khonshu to his avatar appeared on Marc and he immediately attacked enemies.

You probably would have just watched him since everything became so interesting. However, to be a bit more useful you got rid of a few baddies, aiming more at their legs to lower your kill count.

Marc, holding a curved dagger in the shape of a moon and removing his hood, glared back at you when the terrain was cleared of goons.

As you waved from behind your cover, you smiled awkwardly. "Sweetie, you're looking great! You're a badass even, I would say."

Marc, despite knowing Khonshu won't approve, made a little turn to show you his entire outfit, spreading the cape a little. "Say hi to the Moon Knight."

After looking around one more time, you left your cover and approached the man.

"I am just speechless." You couldn't help but gently touch the golden moon on his chest. Your touch was so soft that you were basically doing it with your fingertips only. Your palm moved to touch the 'fabric' on his arm as you asked, "So, what exactly is that? Some kind of magical power? An ancient robe? An armor?"

"It's the ceremonial suit of armor, Khonshu granted it to me."

As you grabbed his hand to take a closer look, you said, "This is really beautiful. You look scary, but not for me. They feel like bandages, but they are not!"

Marc looked down at you as soon as the hood and mask that covered his face disappeared. "You're fangirling."

You squeaked, piling into your place. "Can you blame me? Look at what you're wearing and WHO gave you this! A ceremonial suit of armor from the ancient Egyptian God of the Moon! And I see no scratch on you... Is... Is it healing you?!"

"That's one of its advantages." He nodded and stepped aside, looking carefully around before crouching down and picking up the golden scarab. "The Scarab of Ammit will show us the way to Ammit's tomb."

Suddenly, Marc's outfit changed into a plain, white business man attire. Steven waved at you cheerfully, saying, "Oh! Where am I? Oh! Y/N! Hiya!" You could hear a thick, British accent of Steven's.

As you looked at him, you gasped and jumped again in your place.

The first thing you did upon greeting Steven was to look at his suit, touching the collar of the jacket. "I can't believe it! This suits different people. For Marc, it's a full armor, and for us, it's a suit. You look great, Steven."

He tried to show off his biceps. "Innit? Classy, fancy yet sharp, and dangerous! Just like me!"

As sharp as a pocket knife, eh?" You laughed. "It's just amazing how well it adapts to each of you. Khonshu, if you're here, I just wanted to let you know that you are a fucking genius with that thing."

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, my name is Steven with a v!" He sang in a happy tone, rocking his hips from left to right. "Of course it's sharp!"

Khonshu appeared right next to you and poked you a little with his cane. "Of course I am. You see, idiots? She knows how to be polite and grateful."

You laughed softly and stumbled a bit. As you suspected, it was caused by Khonshu. "Okay! Let's get back to reality. Steven?"

When you called him, Steven was making sure his suit was not stained with blood. "Yeah?"

Marc and I came to this tomb to find the thing you're holding. Marc told me it's the Scarab of Ammit, a look at what was happening here before you joined," you clapped your hands, shrugging, before pointing to the way you two came. "We should go."

"I sense a better way. Come!" Steven grabbed you by hand and pulled you further behind him into the tomb. 

You were shocked and let him lead you, curious as to what he sensed.

Soon, the two of you headed through long, narrow corridors, until you reached a wall. "Khonshu, do your magic trick!" Steven asked.

The God appeared behind you, poked his staff on the wall and it opened, revealing a narrow passage leading outside, into the desert.

Your mouth was wide open as you watched the stone blocks move. As you spent more and more time with them, things got crazier and crazier. "That's Harry Potter level shit."

"I like Harry Potter. And Avatar. Good films." Steven replied and extended his gloved hand to you. "Shall we?"

After accepting his hand, you followed him outside the tomb.

Steven's heart skipped a beat and he screamed internally when you grabbed him by the hand. Even though he wasn't happy with you stealing Marc from Layla, he realised how much he liked you.

Taking a glance at Steven with a smile, you were glad he didn't act hostile towards you. The fact that Marc liked you didn't mean Steven would be nice to you, but thank God he was.

"I think we should leave before someone finds us here. We can talk more about stuff back at the hotel. You can drive, right?"

“Ah, Marc, you've got this." A blink of an eye later, the white suit had disappeared and Marc stood in front of you in his regular clothing. "He doesn't have a driver's licence." He explained shortly.

"Ah, I like that suit." You whined, hugging Marc tightly while pretending to be disappointed.

"Come on."

Spector took you back to the hotel he rented the room in.

Your first move upon entering was to take the Scarab from Marc and sit at the closest table to take a closer look at the item. "So what does it do? Is it some kind of odd device that opens something? It calls for all the aliens that built the pyramids?”

Marc poked your ribs with a chuckle. "No, silly. I told you it was like a compass."

"Can I have a question?”

As he flipped over on the bed, he nodded. "I think that yes, you can have one."

"Khonshu is a god and he sees lots of things. I can't understand why you scurry about looking for magical compasses, manuscripts, and bad guys when he should just point and say 'go there, worm!', right?" You exclaimed, pretending to be Khonshu.

Marc propped himself up on elbows with a mischievous grin. "He doesn't know everything, and without his avatar, he wouldn't be able to find and defeat Ammit."

Khonshu appeared from nowhere on the balcony. "She should be more authentic if she wants to imitate me. Pathetic."

Getting into fangirl mode again, you jumped off the table and hopped onto Marc's bed. "What about other gods? Are they here as well? Do they have people as their avatars? Do they walk among us?

He responded as if it was the most obvious thing, "Yes, they do."

You chuckled softly, pushing his shoulder gently. "Don't say it like it's an obvious thing. I didn't believe in any of them until yesterday." You explained. "Have you met them? What are they like? Whom have you met?"

"Shhh. Easy. Except for Khonshu, I haven't met any of them, so far."

As you smiled, you looked down at the scarab that remained in your hand. "You found what you were looking for again. Do you think you will disappear again for another two or three months?"

"I'm heading to England." Marc stated.

You shrugged as you asked, "Can I like... Go with you? I have friends there. Someone will no doubt let me sleep on their couch."

"You won't stay with any of your friends, I guarantee."

"I don't want Steven to be bothered. It's fine." You assured him.

"You'll stay with us in his apartment."

"Do you think he would be OK with this? Or did you decide for him? I don't want him to wake up thinking I broke into his apartment."

"I will talk to him, or you can do so, if you wish."

Khonshu commented, "Don't worry, the idiot will be happy to talk to someone who's not just a reflection in his bathroom mirror."

"Just to be sure, I'd like to speak with him personally."

As Marc flopped on the bed, he took in a glance at the mirror hanging above it on the ceiling and soon surrendered his body to Steven. Heavy British accent followed, "Hiya, Y/N."

"Hi again, Steven." You greeted him with a kind smile. "I heard you and Marc were going back to London. If I may be honest, I don't want to be away from him. Could I perhaps rent a couch at your flat?"

"If you promise not to drive me bonkers, I think it'll be a very interesting experience, won't it?"

You assured him, "I am the finest roommate you will ever have. I will show you my maps and journals and I can cook. I hope you like old books a lot."

He looked at you and asked, "Do you like Egypt and Egyptian beliefs? I have a lot of stuff on the flat, it's a total mess... It's not against you staying there, but I'll need to make a few changes. Oh, I'll introduce you to Gus, he'll be delighted."

"There are many beliefs I admire, but Egyptian beliefs are my favourites! I can help you clean up a bit before I move in." You nodded. "I'll also pay for myself, don't worry about that."

Steven replied with a hint of hesitation within his tone, "It's not about cleaning really. I have something in there that many people would consider a red flag." The man explained.

"Steven, what did you mean by that? Now I'm curious." Turning to him, you placed your head on your hand.

"This is too much explaining. Soon you'll see for yourself." 

There was no plan to sell your flat or anything like that, so all you brought to England were a few boxes filled with the most important things and clothes.

You nodded and looked around, carrying them inside. The flat was not much bigger than yours but was charming nonetheless. "How nice!" 

Steven, who entered directly behind you, shook his head briefly for no. "It's messy, it's old... Ahm, don't go to the bedroom, I mean, it's over there," he pointed in the proper direction, "But don't go there yet, there is sand around the bed."

"Steven, I've seen worse places, trust me." You said, nodding. "It's your flat, so your rules apply. I'm not going there."

After lowering his head, Steven rushed to the said area of his apartment. 

Khonshu appeared right next to you, poking you with his cane. "And you are going to live here? In this mess? You couldn't possibly get any lower, Y/N."

You shrugged, sitting down. "Oh well, I really slept in the worst places. If it means...” Only then you realised who you were talking to - it was Khonshu himself. After letting out a scream, you fell off the couch and onto the floor. "I... I can see you! Why am I seeing you?!" 

Khonshu poked your shoulder with the tip of his slightly curved bill as he lowered his body. "I'm fed up with hiding from your gaze. I want you to admire my grandeur."

You frowned, looking right at him. "I honestly expected you to look differently." Getting up you took a closer look. "So you are real indeed! Oh my! I can't believe it. YOU ARE REAL! You are so tall!"

"He is!" Steven screamed from the bedroom.

Khonshu poked your belly a few times. "You can bathe yourself in my glory, little human."

You rubbed your stomach as you said, "I have more questions that need to be soaked in your glory. Why did you pick Marc? What gods also walk among us? Why do you look like this and why are you rude to boys when you clearly need both of them?"

"There are all kinds of the other gods among you. I saw his mental issues as something easily exploited, plus his skills as a mercenary overlapped with the role of my avatar. This is just the way I look and I'm not rude, just being honest."

"I don't like the mental issues answer. Can I touch you? Or are you look like a ghost? What with the staff? Can I hold it?” You asked, circling him curiously.

Khonshu turned his head in an attempt to spot Steven. "Marc, I need your help, she's tiring me already." After looking back at you, he nodded. "You can touch. But you can't hold my staff."

You immediately decided to try and touch him, gasping excitedly once you realized he felt just like Marc's ceremonial robes. "Fuck! So cool!”

Steven returned. "I'm afraid Marc is temporarily unavailable. Y/N, what are you doing to the pigeon?"

"I AM TOUCHING AN ACTUAL GOD!” Squeaking loudly, you jumped in your place.

Steven blinked. "You're a real fangirl but if I were you, I wouldn't touch him. You never know where he was lurking."

Khonshu turned his skully head to the man. "One more word, worm, I swear."

"Steven, please be nice to Khonshu." You asked. "What did you mean by Marc being temporarily unavailable?"

"I can't summon him back."

"Well, then I think I need to wait." 

The rest of the day went quiet. 

It took you a long time to unpack all your belongings. 

The evening came, and you sat on a couch, drawing in one of your journals while Steven slept in his bed.

His body jerked suddenly and the man sat up.

Looking over your shoulder you waved at him. "Evening! Feeling better after the nap?"

Marc rubbed his temples, saying, "My head hurts like hell, I feel a little hangover..."

After getting up from the couch, you looked at him worriedly as you carefully walked up to the bed. "It's the second time it happens, and I witness it, love. Can I help you somehow?”

"Can you get me a glass of water, please?"

To fulfill the wish, you simply turned around and walked to the kitchen. You then went back to him and got on the bed, trying to avoid the sand. "Here."

Taking the glass, Marc downed the contents immediately, wiping his lips with the top of his hand as he did so. "Thanks. So, how do you like Steven's place?"

By placing yourself on his lap, you massaged his scalp with your hands while moving them along his temples. "It's nice. Really nice. I met Khonshu. I was just worried about you, love."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of your fingers; it soothed his anxiety.

"Do you feel better? Because I need to talk to you, Marc."

"It's me, sweetie."

"As Steven slept and you were gone, I sat on the couch and was thinking a lot about you, Steven, and Khonshu." Your hands rested on his shoulders.

As he set the glass aside, his palms were placed on your hips. "Any conclusions?"

You nodded, getting more comfortable on his lap. "It's exciting, but also a little scary. Those are things that no ordinary person has to deal with every day," you remarked. "Get what I mean?" 

As he looked at you bluntly, he shook his head no.

I'm trying to say that," your arms wrapped around his neck, "I love you and I'm worried about you. If you like it or not, you will have to deal with one stubborn, reckless treasure hunter. Not because of what you do but because I see something special in you as a person."

There was nothing left for him to do but kiss your lips deeply; it was more than he expected from you, and his heart was filled with joy. "I love you too, my little treasure hunter. For the better and for the worst."

"For the better and for the worst." You agreed, nodding your head eagerly. "I am not gonna leave, no matter how dirty stuff will get. I am ready to help."

He took one of your hands and brought it to his lips to plant a tiny kiss on its top. "The real adventure starts now."

IT’S OFFICIAL! - MARVEL HAVE THE X-MEN AND FANTASTIC FOUR BACK!

FOX have finally released an official statement confirming that they have agreed to sell some of their assets to Disney for $52billion including their movie division. This means that the movie rights to the X-Men, Deadpool, and the Fantastic Four will revert to Marvel as soon as the deal is finalised in 2018!

26-6-23

Lizard friends! 🦎✨

🐚🦦

UnknowLifeForm's Blog

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Hello, I go by Unknowlifeform or ULF for sort.

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Everyone's Watching Him (But He's Looking At Her) (4)

Actor!Bucky Barnes × Assistant!Fem!Reader

< < PART 3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: Bucky begrudgingly undertakes his press tour and PR relationship with Sharon as you question if you can continue your job whilst watching him fall in love with someone else.

Warnings: shy & insecure reader, angst, idiots in love, miscommunication, soft fluff and an extremely happy ending 👀

Word count: 4.0k

A/N: photo credit by @bwsebastianstan, dividers by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

You can’t even look at him.

That’s what destroys Bucky the most.

The past week he’s been completely deprived of the soothing comfort he feels when your eyes meet his in a crowded room.

You’re seemingly so disgusted that he would stoop so low as to fake an entire relationship to promote some stupid movie that you can’t even look at him.

Between all the cameramen, producers, make up artists and rotating allotment of interviewers, whose eyes are all focussed on him, you’re the only person in the room who isn’t gazing in his direction, when your attention is the only one he cares about.

Each time he looks up, eyes instinctively searching for you, it feels like a dagger twisting in his heart to find you’re still acting as if he’s not there. Bucky’s found himself perpetually stuck in your blind spot, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt as alone and desperate for someone to notice him whilst simultaneously being the centre of attention, in all his life.

No one’s interested in the movie, the intricate plot, the dynamic between the characters or even the difficult stunts he performed himself, all anyones asking questions about is Bucky and Sharon’s supposed relationship and the manner in which they got together after months of filming.

He can’t blame Sharon for playing the part perfectly, like the extraordinary actress she is, this is her chance to create a name for herself in this ruthless business and she’s pulling out all stops to make it count.

But Bucky hates it.

This is not why he became an actor and it would mortify his younger self to think this is all his career boils down to.

“And cut!” Someone yells and all of a sudden the room bursts to life again. He’s barely focussed on the questions being thrown at him, opting to let Sharon take most of them because it feels less dishonest that way. The fewer words he says, the less lies come out of his mouth and it makes him feel ever so slightly less guilty lying to the entire world.

Sharon squeezes his hand to grab his attention and gives him a look which screams ‘try harder’, but because they’re surrounded by a hoard of people she can’t actually say it aloud.

Maria’s on the phone beside one of the cameramen, and even through all the bustling noise, he can hear the distinct sound of her making arrangements for ‘the happy couple’. Dread settles in his stomach which sinks beneath the floor like an anvil.

To top it all off, he looks beyond where Maria is standing to find you busy discussing something which much be exceedingly important with some other crew members. Normally you’d be watching on with a reassuring smile, and when his gaze would meet yours, everyone else would melt away and it would seem like you were the only two people in the whole world. But he can’t exactly blame you for doing your job.

Bucky suddenly feels extremely claustrophobic, caged in by the bright lights, cameras and people working in the limited space provided by the set. It’s like his body is viscerally holding in his last breath until you turn around and look at him, and he’s suffocating waiting for something he intrinsically knows won’t happen.

He stands up, waving off the make-up artists who are rushing over from their station to ensure Sharon and himself look perfect for the next interview.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He mumbles, not waiting for permission he knows he wouldn’t receive before trudging away to his dressing room.

Bucky relishes the moment alone, away from the mayhem, having the space to take a breath and calm the swarming anxiety in his chest. It’s not as effective as the comfort you provide whenever you are in his presence, but he knows it’ll have to do for now.

At that moment Becks’ name flashes on his phone and guilt pangs in his stomach that he’s forgotten about until now. He’s been ignoring her calls all week - his excuse is that he’s been insanely busy since the premiere, but he knows the real reason is because she’ll be disappointed he hasn’t told you what she could so plainly read on his features when the three of you were in the same room.

He hits ignore once again with the internal promise that once he summons enough courage to disclose his feelings for you, he’ll return her call. Ringing with either fantastic news, or in need of consoling a broken heart.

“Bucky?” He hears your voice call his name and he immediately turns around to the source, heart skipping a beat seeing your eyes land on him for what feels like the first time since under the dim light outside the premiere venue a week ago. He takes a couple seconds to commit your features to memory, knowing burning the image in the back of his mind will help him gather the strength he needs to return to the monotonous stream of interviews.

“Yes?” Bucky enquires to break the silence, something that even now, when he’s positive you’re avoiding him because you’re opposed to his promotional methods, has never been awkward between the two of you.

“They need you back out there.” Before he can even so much as thank you for the instruction, you’ve closed the door and he’s all alone again.

He can barely function only seeing glimpses of you. There’s a certain quality about you that no matter how tired he is of answering questions and interacting with people, he’s never too fatigued to be around you. Time spent with you allows him to recharge, and without that it feels like he’s running on empty.

Bucky takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and picturing how he felt the night after the infamous Alexander Pierce interview when you stayed up with him until the early hours of the morning, laughing at old movies and throwing popcorn in each others mouths, before he carried you to bed and seriously considered climbing in next to you.

Those are the memories with you he cherishes, even more so now that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and is what will keep him going for the rest of the day. Probably even the rest of his life.

And with that happy thought, he’s ready to take on the next interview.

* * *

You feel your heart sink below your stomach for what feels like the thousandth time this week.

Each interviewer is asking the same damn question, ‘how did the two of you get together?’, which of course prompts Sharon to deliver the same damn response each time. You could recite her answer word for word at this point, but it doesn’t make hearing it yet again any less painful.

It’s a recurring nightmare you’re unable to wake from.

You do your best to keep busy, which isn’t all that difficult when there’s a million different interviewers rotating through who you need to provide copies of Bucky’s ‘no go’ list in an attempt to prevent a repeat of what happened on Alexander Pierce’s late night show.

But Bucky and Sharon are the eye of the storm, everything revolves around them, so it’s impossible to avoid their relationship altogether, nor the hollow, sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach when you catch a glance of them lovingly smiling at each other.

With each rotation of interviewers your resilience dwindles further. It’s only been a week, but you’re just about ready to break. The doting glances, the constant stroking of his arm, the intertwined fingers, adoring hand kisses, are each an additional stab to the heart which brings you closer to your demise.

You really would think of them to be such a cute and affectionate couple if one half of the pair wasn’t the beginning and end of your whole world.

You want to go home and cry your eyes out until the headache you get from being dehydrated is worse than the ache in your chest from your breaking heart.

As someone yells ‘cut’, the room coming to life with a frenzy, you do your best to fight the urge to look at the main stage where Bucky is currently sitting. All your instincts tell you to sneak a glance, but you know deep down seeing them together will bring about a heartache you’re sure you’ll never recover from.

So as arduous as it is to avoid staring at the same eyes that bring you a never ending supply of comfort and reassurance, and that seem to soften each and every time they notice you, without fail, you choose not to. Because at this point, the fear of more agony outweighs the morsel of solace you might find.

Why are you subjecting yourself to this?

To him, you’re just an assistant. Someone to do the organisational tasks that he either doesn’t have time for or purely doesn’t want to. A job multiple people who aren’t life shatteringly in love with him are qualified for.

You’re positive there will not be a day that goes by in which you will not be in love with James Buchanan Barnes, but quitting as his assistant would allow you a small fragment of peace that constantly being around him and Sharon will never allow.

That even if he isn’t yours, you wouldn’t have to watch him be someone else’s.

Perhaps that’s the most tranquillity this cruel world can grant you now.

Are you really about to do this?

In your moment of reservation you make the mistake of looking over to Bucky, in hope that seeing the handsome face which never fails to give life to butterflies in your stomach, will remind you why you do this job, but what you see instead does the exact opposite.

Sharon leans over the minimal space between the two chairs and kisses him, lingering for a few agonising seconds before pulling away, all toothy smiles as they intertwine hands.

Your heart crumbles into irreparably small pieces and you have to force yourself to heave a shaky breath.

It is unfortunately not the first time you’ve seen the two share a kiss, but you determine to yourself it will be the last.

You’ve made your mind up. You can’t endure this any more. You’re done.

After the last interview tonight, you’ll hand in your resignation.

* * *

As you knock on the door and twist the handle in response to Bucky’s mumbled ‘come in’, you feel yourself approaching the bottom of the seemingly eternal abyss you’ve been falling into since learning that Bucky is dating Sharon.

When you feel the sensation while sleeping, you get the relief of waking up, but the past week has been a nonstop, agonising plunge.

Though you’re nervous about how he’ll react, and petrified that in a moment of weakness you’ll disclose romantic feelings you want to keep secret in order to justify your departure, you’re certain this is the right decision, and that provides you the drop of courage you need.

“Hi.” Even in just the single syllable you can tell he’s completely worn out, but there’s a hope and longing in his eyes at the recognition it’s you who’s entered his dressing room that even his exhaustion can’t quell.

He hasn’t even put up a defence to what you’re about to do, but even just by looking at him, at those damn steel blue eyes which shine bright enough to illuminate even your darkest days, you question if you can go through with it.

Bucky looks at you expectantly, knowing you must have come in for something. There’s a small part of you, despite what you’re about to do, that makes your stomach clench at the thought that even though you’ve been avoiding him the last week, he still smiles when he sees you.

“I’m handing in my two weeks.” You manage to say, but your voice is weak and lacking any kind of conviction. It sounds more like a question than a statement.

“What?” His smile turns into an expression of shock in the time it takes you to blink. He stands, knocking his chair backwards, but his eyes are wide and only focussed on you. “I don’t accept your resignation.”

“Well then it’s a good thing it’s technically Maria’s management company that employs me. I just came here as a professional courtesy.” You turn to leave, unable to look at the undeniable hurt in his eyes and on his features you’ve caused. That will be your legacy to him, your last action in his life will be wrought with the agony of abandoning him.

“Is that all I am to you? A formality?” His words make you pause. As much as you need to move on from your own heartache of watching him in a relationship with someone else, you can’t leave knowing he believes he means so little to you.

You turn back to look at him and it feels like you’ve been shot in the chest, seeing desperation and hopelessness brimming in his eyes. You’re the cause of that.

“Not even close, Bucky. You mean so much more to me, that’s the whole point.” You put all your effort into making your voice level and believable. You might be leaving him but the reasoning behind it is because you care too much about him, not too little. With time, you hope he can understand that.

“The whole point of what?”

“Why I’m quitting - do you really think I’d be leaving if you meant nothing to me?” There’s a flash of something in Bucky’s eyes that you can’t quite place, perhaps something of a revelation, but so much more profound.

“Then why are you leaving?” You can feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You are dangerously close to revealing deeper feelings you promised you’d keep to yourself, that you wouldn’t divulge to Bucky and put him in the awkward position of having to turn you down because he’s already in love with another woman.

The searing pain of vocalising your devotion, the inevitability of being rejected by him overcomes you and you find your heart won’t let the words of affection leave your lips.

You take a deep, steadying breath and find yourself staring at the floor merely because you don’t have the strength to look into his bewitching eyes.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Is what you say halfheartedly, though you do believe it. Surely it’s too late now to be of any consequence. He’s fallen for another woman, you’re just the expendable assistant, nothing can change that now.

“Yes it does! You matter to me, so why you’re choosing to leave my life matters to me.” Your heart aches. You might matter to him, but not in the way your heart needs. Not in the all consuming, life changing, inescapable way that plagues every second of his life as he does yours.

You can feel your heart beating in your throat as you respond to him.

“All I want is for you to be happy, Buck, and you’re happy with her. I’m not going to jeapordise that, but it doesn’t mean I need to torture myself by having a front row seat to your love story.”

“Doll, you are my happiness!” You try to ignore the way your stomach flips and heart clenches as a result of his words. He’s just trying to make you stay… he doesn’t truly mean that. But then he continues and your world comes to a complete standstill. “If you’re referring to Sharon and I, that’s all fake! I’m not dating her, I’ve never been interested in her like that, it’s all for PR.”

Your hands start shaking and knees feel weak as your mind works to process his words. This can’t be happening. It was all fake? But then your mind flashes back to the fondness in Bucky’s eyes as he looked at Sharon at the premiere, as well as the way your heart ruptured when Maria confirmed their relationship and you can’t give your heart permission to believe him.

“No… no, that’s not what Maria said.” You stammer, replaying her words in your mind as you had done continuously since that infamous night to ensure you hadn’t misinterpreted them.

“What did Maria say?” Bucky’s voice has an edge of irritation which is hard to miss.

“She said Sharon was your girlfriend, real girlfriend… that you’d started dating while filming together.” Maria had been sure, unwavering, almost clinically so. She left no room for doubt.

“I’m gonna kill her.” Bucky mutters, almost to himself. “Doll, none of it was real, purely written into the contracts for promoting the movie. I think Maria saw how I feel about you and for her own twisted reasons wanted to push us apart.” You have to remind yourself to breathe because every single cell in your body is so overwhelmingly focussed on Bucky’s words that even your vital functions have stopped.

“How you feel about me?” You repeat his words breathlessly, unable to process their true connotation for if you’re wrong, it would surely end your entire existence.

Bucky’s eyes stare into your soul in a way that they never have before. He looks resolute, but somehow simultaneously vulnerable. Though you’ve seen him at his lowest, the fragility he’s openly displaying makes you suspect that there was always one last wall he kept part of himself concealed behind, shielding himself from one last heartbreak he just couldn’t bare to endure.

You observe in his eyes he’s pulled that wall down, and it’s like you’re seeing him, all of him, for the first time. And you’ve never been more in love.

“I was gonna tell you last week, after the premiere, but then you left and…” He shakes his head as he gathers his thoughts. When he looks up his eyes are filled with intent and don’t leave your gaze as he steps closer. You allow him to grasp your hands in his, his thumbs swiping over the backs of your hands affectionately and it takes every ounce of strength in you not to melt into his warm, musky scented embrace. When Bucky speaks there’s a crack in his voice. “The thought of you leaving takes away all my air, I can’t fucking breathe thinking that in two weeks you’re going to walk out of my life and never look back. I need you. You are absolutely everything to me. You are in every moment of my life, regardless of if you’re actually present for it. It’s you I will always search for in a crowded room. Whose eyes I find solace in and whose smile gives my life purpose. I live to be the reason for that beautiful smile. You are who I want to tell every good piece of news to first. Whose hand I instinctively reach for when I need the reminder I’m not alone in this isolating spotlight. Every moment of my life revolves around you. You are the nucleus of my world that I cannot live without.”

“Bucky…” You feel like you’re about to collapse. Your mind is racing too fast for any coherent thoughts to form, but warmth and adoration fills your entire body like a sugar high.

“Doll, please, you are it for me. There is no one else, even if you do choose to leave. You are my definition of love. You will be the person who I compare everyone else to, and I can already tell you with absolute certainty that none of them will even come close. There will never be anyone else for me, because it always has been and always will be you.”

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud, euphoria flowing in your veins and a warmth blooming in your chest so fiercely it almost feels like an ache. Tears sting behind your eyes, but you compel yourself to not let them blur your vision. You want to remember the pure love and devotion in Bucky’s eyes, how he’s looking at you like you truly are the only one in the world for him. As if, when he looks at you, everything else becomes hazy and you’re the only thing he sees.

All those moments, all the shared tender glances and lingering touches, all the generously sweet words you hope implied more than a simple boss-assistant relationship, it wasn’t just your imagination wishing he reciprocated your feelings.

Bucky had felt it too.

It was all real. So earnestly real.

“Bucky…” You reach up and cup his cheek, wiping away a stray tear which gently trickles from the corner of his eye with your thumb. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes and savouring the care in your contact. His prosthetic hand, which is still holding yours, gives you an encouraging squeeze, and when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is overflowing with adoration. “You are my home. The only reason I was going to leave was because I didn’t want to watch you fall in love with someone else. Loving you comes as easy as breathing for me. There is no one else in the entire world that I will ever love in that way, only you.”

You don’t even have time to breathe, for when those words leave your lips Bucky decides he simply cannot wait a second longer before kissing you. Though, you’re not complaining, it’s an urge you’ve been supressing constantly since you started working for him.

This kiss starts fast and frantic, you’ve both waited entirely far too long to express your love that you’re eager to feel as much of each other as possible. Bucky’s hands roam around your back, pulling you flush with him as yours start by cupping his face, before tangling in the long strands of his hair.

But when the realisation hits you both that you don’t need rush, that in fact you’ve got the rest of your lives to explore and memorise the intricacies of each other, the kiss slows to a sensual make out, taking your time to enjoy each other and what you’ve been longing for since the moment you met.

“Bucky?” You mumble his name against his lips, but he doesn’t allow you to say more then a single word and take a quick breath before his lips have covered yours again. You’re not sure how long you’ve been kissing him, but he’s clearly not done with you yet.

“Mhmm.” He hums into your mouth, hands slipping below the hem of your shirt, gliding over the smooth, bare skin of your back, sending shivers down your spine. He touches you gently, like you’re a precious flower he doesn’t want to crush, but rather preserve and admire for years to come.

“Take me home.” He pulls back, and your lips already miss being connected to his. You’ll never get enough of him, even if you were to kiss him for the remainder of your days.

He looks at you with a fondness and amazement that makes you think he can’t quite believe you’re his, even though your heart has belonged to him for as long as you’ve known him.

You tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear so you can have an unobstructed view of how he’s looking at you, soaking up the confidence which inflates in your chest when he gazes at you as if you hang the moon and stars in the night sky.

“As you wish, my love.” Bucky affirms, the twinkle in his eye makes excitement surge in your stomach - the night is far from over. He kisses you once more, savouring the feeling and to tide you both over until you make it back to his place.

Bucky takes your hand and refuses to let go as he proudly walks with you by his side through the studio, not giving a damn who sees the two of you together.

If you’d like to see more of these two, make sure to let me know ♥️

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Everyone’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) [Actor!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @sunnyjane4 @valhalla-kristin @learisa @crispysublimecupcake @iamfandomwasted @blackwidownat2814 @hailey-holt @rosepetalsinwinter @wifeofbarnes @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @vicmc624 @oliviagreen99 @gabshouse @raging-panda @priya212 @highlyintelligentblonde @buckyseddie @erynnnn @endless-summer-soldier @one-shot-plus-size @takeabreathdearh @its703pm @nefelibatansoul @theweekndhistorybook @albinotigerpython @goldenharrysworld @buckyslove1917 @supersanelyromantic @gothkitteh @ahrahrahraha @hopelessromantic423 @misshale21 @happeevacationday @farfromjustordinary @blackgirlbydna @mrsgweasley @readreblogfics @ashenc-blog @redbarn1995 @thewackywriter @missvelvetsstuff @broadwaybabe18 @buckys2lut @arny-montana @calirindo @justfic @crazyunsexycool @helpishouldstudy @alluringsirensworld @sarahyk27 @aya-daydreams @hotleaf-juice @kareish @yukio369 @hjzmwoodz @sabbbsstuff @vespercarmichael @fanfic-freak-cevans @marygoddessofmischief @cevansswhore