It's 2025, two years post blip and photography student Rosie Dylan is still learning how to rebuild her life. She's just trying to get to graduation and make enough cash to pay her rent. But then Captain America leaves her an unexpected voicemail.
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A/N: hiiii, sorry this took a while. Life happened while I was in the throes of writing this chapter. I hope Sam's bachelor party, some pretty sweet confessions and a big revelation make up for it though!
Warnings: smut, handjob (both m & f receiving), blowjob, a little exhibitionism, brief mention of drugs and such in relation to the mission at the end.
Please don't forget to vote and comment on the chapter if you enjoyed it, always makes my day to see what you guys think!
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Sam's bachelor party is low-key. Holed up in a small bar downtown, the backroom is blocked off for the private event. The whole place feels like an old-school speakeasy. There's a private bar so they don't have to keep heading back into the fray for drinks and booths with velvet-covered seating and dark wood tables line walls, plush red curtains framing them. Above, 1920s style chandeliers and intricately cut glass sconces fill the room with warm, cosy light, larger spotlights hitting a small stage setup that takes up most of the back wall — prepped for karaoke now the evening is winding down but earlier it served a jazz band well.
It's much more Rosie's speed and she feels comfortable just getting on with her job, blending into the background and snapping photos of the guys as they drink and joke around.
Even if the guys include actual Avengers.
Scott Lang, Clint Barton — Thor and Doctor Banner even flew in for the occasion. Then there's Joaquin, who Rosie hadn't met yet despite the stories she'd heard. They clicked immediately though, much to Bucky's displeasure. The party is rounded off with a few of Sam's childhood friends and a kid called Peter who is definitely not old enough to join in with the drinking but just seems happy to be there regardless.
She imagines most of them — the Avengers of it all — might not make the actual wedding. It's only a week away now, and Rosie is trying to focus on the job rather than what comes after, her thesis and where she goes beyond graduation. But it's difficult when so much has changed in the span of two weeks, when she suddenly has this really good thing going with a man who often seems too good to be true — though Bucky pouts and denies that every time Rosie tells him so.
The warmth and sturdy weight of said man engulfing her from behind breaks Rosie out of her thoughts and back to the room, where she's zoned out by the bar.
"Where'd you go, sweetheart?"
Bucky's arms settle across her chest — one warm, one blissfully cool over the thin material of her sundress. It's warm in the bar. Just one rickety, old air conditioning unit to cool the whole space and Rosie's skin feels sticky with sweat. But she sighs happily in Bucky's arms, grateful for the cold sensation of his vibranium hand as he lays his palm flat over her sternum.
