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ladyjaydeinc · 2 years
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bronzetomatoes · 3 months
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"Dude why am I so cold-"
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Nobody stopped me and I'm gonna spend 60 bucks on shoes I just kinda want on Monday. Birthday treat
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ohcaptains · 1 year
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don’t you dare fall in love. | 2
pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader
PART ONE. MASTERLIST.  synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.
warnings. 18+. drug dealing, panic attack, death references (light), creepy men (light), -- sexually explicit descriptions, dry humping, sleepy sex.
an. well. this happened quickly. thanks for all the love on part one. please comment & reblog<3 if this is being laggy, go to settings and smash the cache.
Ellie Williams is not a kiss-ass.
She would not kiss anyone’s ass for a better grade, but she would, theoretically, buy the textbook her professor has written to win good favour. She has tried chocolates. 
Tried reading around the subject: so, what do you think about Western’s ideas on thermal physics…still, Professor Sampson hates her guts. Hates everyone’s guts, really, so Ellie isn’t all that special. But she needs at least an 80 on this test, and she’s been getting 79 for the past month.
Ellie Williams is not a kiss-ass.
“You’re such a kiss ass,” Dina spouts, her voice directly in Ellie’s ear from her headphones. “Dina, we spoke about this. I would kiss no man’s ass.”
Ellie is in the science textbook section, trying to figure out how the staff have laid this place out. She can hear Dina smile, “No, we all know whose ass you want to kiss. She here?” Ellie looks around again, beady eyes like a frightened animal. “No, Dina, trust me. I’ve looked,” she whispers, reminiscent of a spy speaking through an earpiece.
“Trust you to pick the one day she’s not working to visit the campus bookshop.”
Ellie carries on looking through the shelves, head bent at an angle as she reads the authors. She talks through her Bluetooth, “I think the universe is trying to keep us apart.” “Or just the guy who does the rotas. What’s this book called again?” “A General Relativity course book.”
Dina snores, “Jesus, how bad do you need this grade?” “If I get this grade, then I don’t have to attend his Saturday sessions.” “Saturday? This man is—“ “Ellie!”
The distant voice cuts Dina off, and Ellie spins to her name, confusion on her face until she recognises you standing there, smiling in your uniform. You wave, far too happy to be working on a Monday morning. Ellie’s face splits open, excitement in her gut, a sudden living, breathing thing. “Hey, I looked around, but I didn’t see you.” “I was out back,” you state, motioning behind you. You play with your fingers for a beat, body inching closer, getting into her space, then stopping, suddenly -- she imagines you leaning to hug her, but your movements are reserved as if you’re telling yourself you’ve missed the opportunity.
Ellie aches with the memory of your hug, the touch happening in an alternate reality.
Note to self, Ellie thinks; hug her when I see her next.“What’re you doing here?”
“Ellie? Helllooooo…” comes Dina’s distant voice. Ellie ignores her. Focuses on you. Focuses on the way you’ve done your hair today. The cherry necklace that sits on your clavicle, glinting red against your soft skin. She dazedly stares at it, and when you cock your head to the side, waiting for her answer, she flinches back to reality. “Err,” she starts, blushing red, “I’m, err, trying to find a physics textbook, but I can’t find it.” “Oh, I can look on the system for you, if you want?” Who are you talking to? Is it her? – it’s her isn’t it? Ellie double-taps against her headphones, ending the call. She shoves them around her neck, breathing in the silence. “Yeah – please.” You throw her an easy smile, turning in the direction of the desk, “Follow me.” Ellie’s phone buzzes and she follows you, reading the new text from Dina: Okay asshole She quickly types, I’m sorry, you were ruining my ability to flirt Godspeed, and don’t talk about aliens again.
There’s a queue at the desk already, being served by one of your colleagues, but you walk behind them, signalling Ellie to cut the line and come to the computer at the end. She ducks behind the people, a smug smile on her face from the special treatment.
Your fingers clack at the keys, logging into something, concentrated look on your face. Ellie focuses on the small curve between your brows, wanting to make a home in it – so focused, that she doesn’t immediately answer when you ask, “What’s the book?” She manages to snap out of it, “It’s called ‘A General Relativity course book.’” You look up from the computer, pausing. “Okay,” you sound, pursing your lips, “not my type of literature, but I get It.” Your fingers drag on the keys, the clack echoing in Ellie’s ears. “It’s not mine, either,” she starts, hoping she sounds casual, “I’m aiming for it to win me good favour with my professor -- he wrote it.” “What’s your type, then?” you ask suddenly, eyes still on the screen. “Huh?” Ellie chokes, flinching. You look up from the computer, grinning slyly, “Of literature.” “Oh,” she bleats. The redness is back again – heat filling her cheeks. She feels it around her neck, too. Rubbing it, she tries to think. Luckily, you find the answer for her.
“I saw some westerns in your living room, the other day. Real old ones, too.” “Yeah—“Ellie speaks, cutting you off quickly. “Those…are, err, my dad’s—but I read mostly sci-fi. Space operas. Things like that.” “Mmm,” you hum, smiling at the screen. “So you are a nerd.” A surge of adrenaline hits Ellie, “I can’t tell if you’re flirting or just being mean.”
The air changes, responding to Ellie’s sudden confidence. Your tongue comes out, licking the corner of your mouth, all pink and red and wet. Yet you don’t answer, moving on with the drag of your mouse. “Ummmmm,” you sing, typing and clicking buttons, “We do have it.” “Sweet, how much?” “It’s…170 bucks.” Ellie’s stomach bottoms out, “That’s fucked up.” “I can give you my discount if you want?” you quickly offer, “But it’s only ten per cent.”
Ellie’s heart blooms at that. “Thank you – I appreciate it,” she says sincerely, “Lemme look online some more, okay? Maybe there’s a used version.”
Though, Ellie does fleetingly think about spending the money, just in case you work on commission. She supposes that bookshops might not do that…still… “Why do you need it anyway?” “I need an 80 on my test this Friday, or I have to go to his Saturday sessions for the rest of the term.” “That’s fucked up, you’re a smart girl, though. Can’t you just study super hard?” Ellie shakes her head, ignoring the words smart girl. Ignoring the way it makes her want to vault over the desk and beg you to say it again. “This man has never given me an 80 before. I’ve been getting 79’s for as long as I’ve known him. I was hoping the textbook would win him over.” “All this for one point? Who is this professor; want me to talk to him? I can be very persuasive.”
Your lips twist, a cheeky smile curling into your cheek. You put your fists up, readying yourself for a fight, and Ellie shakes her head, stifling a laugh – a real girly, schoolgirl giggle.
“This man hates the world. I’m pretty sure even your sunny disposition isn’t bright enough to lighten his mood.” You grin, quirking a brow. “My sunny disposition?” “Yeah.” “You think I have a sunny disposition?” your eyes go to slits, brows raised. Ellie suddenly thinks she’s said something wrong, but she sticks to her guns, “…yes.” “No one has ever said I have a sunny disposition before.” You lean on the desk, propping your chin in your hands. Ellie watches as you wiggle your brows, and suddenly gets it, “Does my presence brighten a room?” “Okay, you’re making fun of me now, I’m gonna—“Ellie jabs a thumb behind her, pretending to leave, “Nooooooo, wait, Ellie,” you giggle, and grab her hand.
Ellie’s brain turns off.
Like a mechanical power cut, her cerebral cortex goes completely black, humming with the echo of life. 
You must not realise that Ellie has turned off because you continue to hold her warm hand, asking, “You got any more classes today?” and Ellie’s cogs whir, attempting to send a message to her brain: wake the fuck up loser.
“E-Err,” Ellie stutters, trying to splutter back to life.
Her cheeks go red and her nose blooms bright -- the blush is so strong her chest burns. She does not move her hand. She does not move her hand, a cliché buzz crackling under her skin. 
The current shoots up her arm, through her chest, and there’s a fleeting moment where she thinks she’s going to have a heart attack.
“You okay? You look kinda pale.” “What? I’m—“she pulls her hand away, holding it to her chest, feeling the rush of her heartbeat “—fine. I’m---yeah. No classes today.” “So, you’re not up for a coffee?” you wonder, and yeah, Ellie is definitely having a heart attack. “I get off at 2,” you explain, looking at her, a nervous glint in your eyes.
“We could get a coffee…if you want? At the coffee shop on campus?”
Ellie goes silent. She knows that realistically she’s meant to say something, but in the fictional run down of this scenario, she was asking you. She wasn’t short-circuiting from you holding her hand. She was suave, cool, and flirty.
She was Ellie, the ladies man.
She’s clearly silent for too long, as you rush to speak. “It’s fine if you don’t wanna— “ Ellie cuts you off, “No!” she just about shouts. The word reverberates around the shop, and a few curious shoppers peer over, wondering if she’s berating a customer assistant. Ellie flushes, frowning at the counter, “um, yes. Yes, I would – would love to.”
You laugh, holding your hand where you held hers, and Ellie’s fingers hum with the memory of you.
“Sweet. I’ll see you at half two then?”
Ellie’s early.
She didn’t even go home. She just wandered, too fuelled with adrenaline to do anything but overthink. Gave herself multiple pep talks – you got this, cool, suave Ellie. No more loser Ellie!
At 2:45, when she thinks you’ve ditched her – that negative voice always alive and biting at her ear -- she hears someone holler her name. She spins, immediately finding you. You call her name again, waving, and breaking into a jog.
“Hey!” you beam, desperately holding the strap of your tote as you bounce. She lets herself ogle you for a few seconds – pretty in your flowy skirt and a tight t-shirt – but glancing behind you, she realises she’s not the only one.
Ellie sees a few curious jocks hanging near the vending machine turn their heads, and she’s filled with a sudden, terrifying need to take you in her arms.
It’s not the first time it’s happened, but this feels different. Feels almost violent. Protective. She inhales, body vibrating. The all-consuming feeling pushes at her temples, forcing pressure behind her ears.
“Sorry I’m late,” you huff, nearing. Ellie barely hears you. She glances behind you at the boys, her green eyes flicking over the scene. Their eyes are inquisitive, scanning the pair of you, trying to figure out the dynamic.
Ellie smiles softly, “No, you’re good.” “I just had to look for something quickly,” you explain, struggling with your bag. It looks heavy, and Ellie goes to offer to take it from you, but you glance at where she was looking, frowning.
You notice the eyes.  
“Um—” you start, flinching at her, small, flustered, “and I had to change.” You look back again. Two of the boys are whispering to each other, clearly talking about you. They huddle like a pack, discussing who’s going to go first, until one of them eventually waves, a sleazy, panty-dropper smile on his mouth.
You immediately tense, snapping back to Ellie, and Ellie takes your hand.
She doesn’t think.
Or didn’t think, as she took your hand in hers and pulled your body into hers, slinging a confident arm around your back and the other around your waist.
She tells herself she’s being protective. Friendly. Your body doesn’t relax. Instead, it tenses with the sudden change, and there’s a lightning flash moment where Ellie thinks she’s ruined everything.
Then, you hum.
She feels your body goes like jelly against her, and then your arms wrap around her middle, welcoming her touch as you lean into her. You nuzzle into her neck and Ellie’s whole-body flushes.
Looking over your shoulder, she stares at the boys, her green eyes livid and alive. They pause, off-kilter for a second.
“You’re warm,” you suddenly whisper, the nerves in your voice gone. Ellie doesn’t hear you, too busy feeling the fury course through her body. She licks her lips, eyes slipping into slits. One of the boys frowns. She watches and watches, and when they don’t look away, she brushes her mouth over your ear.
Ellie hears your breathing stutter.
“This okay?” she whispers, and you nod. You manage a clipped and quiet, “yeah,” into the shell of her neck, and air flutters against her skin, setting her senses on fire.
The boys eventually give up, turning their noses back to the machine, and Ellie carries on holding you. After a beat, you whisper, “They still there?” “Mm, not looking though.” “Thank you,” you rush, sighing, and Ellie squeezes your body tight, thinking, girlfriend, thinking, mine. The pair of you rest together for a beat, comfortable until a nagging feeling bites at Ellie.
Her fingers swell with gunk, her belly oozes green, shame a wave washing over her. You’re exactly like those boys Ellie, hounding her like a wolf. She snaps away, trying to shrug off the dirt that’s coating her skin, “Yeah, don’t mention it.”
Ellie buys your coffee, hoping it makes up for her crossing the line earlier.
She’s reserved as she sits, struggling to overcome the reddy green guilt that’s biting at her. 
There’s no hostility from you, though, as you rip open a sugar packet and pour it over the latte art, sprinkling it evenly over the brown and white foam. 
Ellie keeps her hands on her hot coffee mug, hoping the heat of the liquid will burn away the sudden sick in her veins.
You take a sip, then snap to, “Oh! I have a gift for you.”
You hoist your bag onto your lap, rifling through your stuff.
“When you left, I looked in the back.”
You pull out a thick book, heaving it onto the table. The slam of it makes the floor shake. 
Ellie curiously looks at the cover. When she reads the title -- A General Relativity coursebook -- her eyes widen. What the fuck? Did you buy it for her? steal it for her?
“The publishers send us sample copies,” you explain, putting your bag down. “I really didn’t think we’d have it, cause it’s so obscure.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ellie curses. She grabs the book and flicks through. It’s exactly the same, apart from Sample copy – not for resale, printed on the front.
She looks at you, eyes big. “Oh my god. Thank you. Thank you so much. What do you want for it? I mean I can pay you, or buy you like, twelve croissants or – shit,” she leans back in her chair, “your next pickup is on me.” “I don’t want your weed,” you quickly explain, shaking your head. You pause, rephrasing with a laugh, “I mean—I do, but not as payment. I don’t want anything, we were gonna throw it away, anyway…and…” you shrug, a small smile blooming. “--you’re cool.”
Ellie thumbs the textbook, considering you. She licks the corner of her lips and cocks her head to the side. “I’m cool?”
“Yeah,” you flush. With a small nod of your head, you bring your coffee up to your lips, and smile around the rim, “the coolest.”
Ellie rests the top of the textbook under her chin, watching you drink, then chew at your coffee-stained bottom lip, considering her. “Thank you for earlier,” you whisper. “With those guys.”
You reach over and take her hand, running your nail over her palm.
Ellie blinks at the huddle of your limbs on the coffee table, a warm, fuzzy buzz swirling in her chest, narrowly avoiding her heart, and she breathes the moment in, holding your hand as her subconscious whirls,
What are you doing, kid? A Texan accent whispers.
When Ellie gets back to her apartment, she strips.
Nearly tears her shirt off, body sticky, skin boiling. Her blood rushes under the surface like lava, threatening to erupt.
She can still feel your tight body against hers. Hear the stutter of your breathing as she brushed her lips over your ear. Your scent is stuck to her skin, and she itches, rubs, and squeezes, groaning in frustration as she tries to claw her flesh off.
She kicks her backpack, and her new textbook retaliates, jutting into her foot.
“Fuck!” she shouts, kicking it again.
She’s unbuttoning her jeans as she makes her way into her bedroom, and she slams her door closed, wood rattling on the hinges.
Confusion rips through her, a living and breathing thing. Though, as Ellie pushes her head into her mattress, she doesn’t feel all that confused. No, her belly is swirling, her skin warm and sensitive to the touch. She knows what this is.
“Fuck,” she sobs, clenching her fists.
You’re warm, you’d whispered, and Ellie had been too busy focusing on her rage to notice her want. You’d slot into her frame like a puzzle piece. Melted against her, mouth brushing over her neck, breath stuttering.
Ellie imagines the event differently.
She imagines storming over to the boys and grabbing the sleazy, hand-waving one by the back of his head and slamming it into the vending machine.
Anger floods her, comforting and familiar. So so fucking familiar. 
She imagines the glass smashing, imagines the shards scattering as she smacks the boy's head to the cement, reaching around and snapping his arm back, bone splintering, never able to wave again.
You’re warm, she hears again, followed by your pleased hum. Feels your soft, unbelievably soft body, and the brush of your hands as you’d rubbed her back.
They still there?
Ellie never forgets a face.
She could probably find them. Maybe she still deals to one of their buddies – she’s got connections. Knows people. 
She could find them. Find what frat they most likely lived at, and storm in, forcing them to line up for her with the knife she kept in her backpack clenched in her grip as she ordered, now show me your best smile.
She remembers the way you’d tensed up, that fun, bubbly aura you usually oozed disappearing. If Ellie wasn’t so busy holding you, she would have gone over there. 
Would have knocked their heads together like bowling pins, listening to them scatter to the floor.
It’s been a while since this rage has blossomed, and Ellie groans into the duvet, feeling a different kind of warmth, too.
Gingerly, she pushes her knuckle between her thighs and sighs.
“F-fuck,” she stutters, eyes fluttering closed. Her lower belly swirls, hips jutting. With her fist between her legs, she pushes her thighs together and moans.
Did she get this wet when she hugged you? or did this happen just now? when she was imagining making the boys bleed?
It didn’t matter, because regardless, Ellie knew that it was dangerous.
 Ellie gets your text for a pick-up ten minutes before you knock on her door.
At first, she thinks it’s Dina, so she’s pleasantly surprised when she opens the door and finds you standing there, a reserved smile on your lips.
“Oh shit,” Ellie spits, eyes widening, “it’s you. Did you fly here, or something?” she jokes, moving to the side. You don’t laugh, just hum in agreement.
“Usual?” Ellie asks, closing the door behind her. The air is thick and cosy, fueled by the dim lighting of her living room and the lack of real clothes. Sweatpants and a baggy washed-out hoodie. 
Her hair too clean from the shower she just had, that it falls in front of her face, begging to be noticed.
You twist to her, voice sudden and quick, “You got any weed that could put me on another plane of existence? or knock me the fuck out?” you ask, dumping your bag on the floor near your usual seat on her couch. 
“Had a really shitty week that I wanna forget.” 
It’s then that Ellie notices the bend in your brows. The flustered edge to your features. Bags under your eyes. You look like stress incarnate, and Ellie wants nothing more than to wrap you in a soft blanket and cook you dinner.
It’s been a couple of weeks since the coffee ���date’, or incident, as Ellie calls it. You’d met up a few times since then, but never here, in the apartment Ellie lusted after you in.
“Oh fuck, yeah — yeah lemme –” She gets smiley, hoping it’ll change your mood, and moves her shit from the sofa, clearing a space for you. “--Sit down, make yourself comfy, lemme get some samples.” 
When she gets back from the bedroom, you’re curled up on the sofa, shoes off, and fiddling with the blanket she had wrapped around herself moments earlier, looking slightly less stressed than before. You give her a small smile, nodding to her TV. “Sorry for interrupting you while playing Uncharted, that’s simply unforgivable.” 
Ellie shrugs, clambering onto the sofa beside you. She opens a small bag, pulling out a joint. “I’ve played it before. I know that Nathan Drake gets the bad guy.” 
“Spoilers,” you smile, curling your legs beneath you. Your knees bump her thigh, and that silly, electric current shoots through her again, but it’s familiar, now. There’s less fear there. She keeps her thighs pressed against your knees, the denim of your jeans rubbing against her sweatpants.
“You gonna tell me what’s the matter?” Ellie asks, trying to mask her interest. She flicks her lazy gaze to you, and you fiddle with your fingers, quirking a small smile. “Just schoolwork.” “Mm,” Ellie hums, considering you.
Ellie has the innate ability to read people, so she knows you’re lying when you rub your neck and try and avoid her eyes. Tell me, she thinks, let me help.
Instead, she holds the joint out to you, figuring you’re not comfortable enough to tell her yet. “I got this new shit last week.”
You take it from her, sniffing it. “It’s meant to completely numb you out.” “You tried it?” Ellie nods, getting cosy on the sofa. “It’s stronger than the stuff you smoke. Didn’t know who I was for an hour.”
“I could do with that…” you trail off. She watches you fiddle with it, nerves pushing at your brows. “You gonna tell me what happened?—” You cut her off, “did you smoke the whole thing?” and Ellie pauses. Her green-brown eyes consider you before she reaches out and takes your hand.
“You can smoke here if you want. If you don’t wanna be alone while smoking something new.” 
You shake your head, “No — I couldn’t.”
Ellie slides her thumb over your palm, and beams when the knot in your brow loosens an inch. “It’s fine — I can play, you can sit and zone out. Be thoughtless for a while.” 
 When you don’t immediately respond, Ellie takes the joint from you, leaning for a lighter. “We can smoke it together, okay?” she asks, tone final. After a few seconds, you nod, picking at the blanket. You flash her a smile, “okay.”  
Ellie lights the joint for you, and your eyes follow her the whole time, intently watching as she ashes it against an ashtray. When she turns to you, her cheeks are flushed from your gaze. She passes you the joint, ignoring the heat at her neck, and grins, “ladies first.” “You’re annoying,” you joke, shaking your head and taking it from her. Ellie gets up to open the window. When she turns back, you’re taking a hit, and she’s forced to pause, eyes flickering over the pink of your lips.
She realises in all the time she’s known you – a couple of months now – she’s never seen you smoke before.
“Oh fuck,” you squeak, pulling away and coughing smoke out of your mouth. “That’s strong.” Ellie laughs, clambering back onto the sofa. You make space for her, then fill it, shoulder resting against hers as if you’ve done this before.
As if snuggling on the couch was something you did every Friday night. She smiles down at you, ignoring the swell of butterflies in her belly. “No weak-ass ditch weed for my best customer.” “Best?” you ask, offering the joint to her. She takes it and puts it in her mouth, tasting smoke, then something sweet and sticky. When she takes a hit and pulls back, her head rushing, she glances down at it.
You’ve got lip gloss on the joint. In her sudden fuzzy, slow mind, she stares down at the pink line of your mouth, blinking back to reality as the sudden rush fades.
You’re watching her.
She feels your hot gaze on the side of her neck, and she turns, seeing you gazing up at her from under your lashes, eyes wet with something. She forgets you’ve asked a question. Looks at the gloss on your lips, the stuff she’d just tasted, and wants to bathe in it.
Ellie hands it back, breathing a quick laugh, hoping it’s casual, “You’ve got lip gloss on the joint.” “Oh,” you bleat, blinking at her hand. “Sorry.” She shakes her head, “S’okay,” and hands it back to you, speaking – not really thinking as she blurts, “figured we’d share lip-gloss at some point.”
“Easier if we just kiss,” you shrug, and Ellie’s body flinches. She blinks at you, ears ringing with your words while you smoke the joint.
You said that, right? Ellie thinks. You pull it away, smoke pouring out of your mouth. “Yeah, it would be,” Ellie whispers. You glance at her, smirking, “I think you’d look pretty in pink.” Ellie’s body buzzes with something – a mixture of desire and affection. Her brows raise, voice a husk of itself as she asks, “You calling me pretty?” “You don’t think you’re pretty?” you wonder, matching her tone, whispering to each other like you’re two girls at the back of the class, sharing something secret.
“I bet those freckles get all the girls. And the eyebrow slit?”
You lean back against the sofa, breathing a sigh. “Panty dropper material right there.”
Ellie takes the joint from you, ignoring the image of you dropping your panties for her.
“It’s a scar, I didn’t cut it on purpose.” “Yeah? Lemme see,” and you lean forward, stopping inches away to peer at her eyebrow.
You’re there – right there, mouth so close to Ellie’s eye that if she blinks, you’ll kiss her eyelashes. Ellie imagined this moment differently. Still, she revels in it. Takes a mental picture. “Huh,” you hum, pulling away a centimetre, blinking at her. Ellie inhales and gets a whiff of the remnants of citrus. Her eyes feel heavy, intoxicated by your proximity. You must see it happen, because your mouth opens an inch, your nervous smile fleeting.
“How’d you get it?” you whisper. Ellie licks her lips, nearly touching your mouth. “Fell on my bike when I was little, smashed my face against a rock. Had to get thirteen stitches.” “Ouch. You musta been a tough little girl, Ellie Williams.” Something black flashes at Ellie’s eyes, before the light comes back, buzzing alive. She grins, cheeks red, “still am.”  
The pair of you smoke for a bit, chatting and catching up. Ellie starts playing her game again, and you hold the joint for her when she gets to an action sequence, eyes on her the entire time.
Ellie keeps on dying.
Keeps on thinking about your earlier admission. The causal way you’d said, easier if we just kiss. The easy way you’d leaned closer – the way it hadn’t affected you.
Ellie dies again, and her pride takes a hit as a result.
Your gaze is distracting.
She feels it prickle over her freckled cheeks and the slit in her brow, then fleeting around the skin of her neck, dipping under her hoodie. Eventually, you peel away, turning to the TV, and Ellie manages to continue the game without switching to easy.
About half an hour later, you start to fidget. Ellie turns to you, and you catch her gaze, zoned out. Your eyes are red, pupils blown -- high as a kite.
“Oh, fuck,” Ellie laughs, “You look so high right now.” 
“Yeah?” you ask, then you laugh, the sound bursting out of your mouth as if it’s suddenly really funny. “You okay?” Ellie laughs, pausing the game.
You rub your neck, face changing, “This is — I feel really funny.”  “S’okay, it’s meant to feel like this.”
A small furrow builds between your brows. She watches you pause, staring at something off into the distance as if you’re falling inwards.
You fidget again. A hand comes up to rub at your chest, and Ellie slowly starts to become concerned. She leans over and touches your arm, “hey, you okay?”
You think about it, bottom lip between your teeth. After a second, you shake your head, clenching your fists, and Ellie’s eyes widen.
“Ellie,” you whisper, voice small. You suck in a quick breath, and her heart snaps. She leans closer, kneeling in front of you, bending to meet your gaze.
“What’s the matter?” Ellie watches as you shove your palm against your chest, rubbing where your heart is. Your breathing shakes, and Ellie knows this.
Knows what’s happening.
Her hands come out, holding your shoulders. “Hey, whoa. You’re okay,” but you quickly shake your head, the panic sudden and overwhelming. You rebut her words, “Mm, no. Nope,” and clench your hands together.
Ellie helplessly watches as your breathing picks up, panic threatening to consume you. She moves to meet your gaze again, but you’re avoiding it, looking away – trying to hide. 
Your breathing suddenly spirals, chest sucking in and out, and Ellie finally takes your chin, green eyes meeting yours.
“No, look at me. Eyes on me — babe. Hi, hi angel,” she whispers, so sweet it’s sickly. The endearments spill out of her lips, natural on her lips. Your scared eyes snap to hers, begging. “You’re okay,” she states clearly. “Just breathe. In and out, let it happen. You’re perfectly fine. You’re with me, okay? I got you.” 
She nods, taking deep breaths for you. Slowly, you begin to mimic her, breathing in deeply through your nose and out of your mouth. Your hands are clenching her thigh, holding the fabric in your fists.
“In and out. In and out,” Ellie nods, coaching you through it. You match her breathing, following her instructions for a few heart-clenching minutes.
When your eyes slowly lose their frantic edge, she cracks a smile, “Good girl. Like that -- you’re gonna be okay, just let this wash over you. No thoughts, remember?” 
The grip you’ve got on her trousers loosens and after a few minutes of fading panic -- mostly on Ellie’s behalf -- you speak. 
“My heart is still beating really fast,” you whisper, a nervous giggle falling out of your lips. Ellie takes it as a good sign that you’re laughing.
“Here, feel,” and you take her hand and push it to your chest. Your heart thumps against her palm, beating quickly and hard. She nods, “Keep on taking some calming breaths and it’ll slow.”  
You keep her hand there, and Ellie thinks that the pressure must be comforting. After a few minutes, your body relaxes. “‘’sorry,” you whisper, eyes closed.  “S’okay, don’t apologise.” 
“It’s embarrassing.” 
Ellie shakes her head. 
“Last summer, I went to Amsterdam with Dina and her boyfriend Jesse. I tried this new strand as an edible and thought, psh, I’m a heavyweight, I can take it. I ate the whole brownie before going out one night. Blacked out. Came-to near a canal, while having the worst panic attack of my life. Felt like I was going to die. I forced everyone to go home with me and had a panic attack for three hours.” 
“Three?” you laugh, eyes opening, and she nods. “Worst trip ever.” 
She feels your heart beat slow against her palm. Your breathing settles back to its regular rhythm, fingers loosening on the back of her hand.
“Feel better now?” she asks softly. 
“Yeah, think so. “
You drop your hand, letting her move hers away. It’s warm from the heat of your body, and she goes tingly from remembering where you held it. Inwardly, she scorns herself. 
“I shouldn’t have let you smoke that much.” You breathe a smile, rubbing your chest and resting your head on the cushions, looking up at her. “I’m a big girl, I should know my limits,” you shrug, “It’s probably because my body is stressed anyway.”
Ellie considers you, “You gonna tell me what happened?” Your face goes distant, finally admitting, “Mike cornered me in the library.” “Ex-dealer Mike?” Ellie asks, locking up. “Yeah,” you nod, “Asked me why I stopped buying from him.”
“The fuck?” she breathes. What a weird thing to do. Customers come and go. You don’t make it weird by cornering them in the library and asking why. You nod, brows furrowed at the memory. You continue to rub your chest, fingers pushing under the fabric of your top as if to calm your heart.
“I said I found someone new, and he musta not liked that, 'cause he called me a cheater.” Ellie’s brows shoot up, body tensing. The familiar pressure pushes at her temple, “A what?” You nod, licking your lips. “He asked who my new dealer was, but I didn’t tell him. Didn’t want you to get this shit, too.”
Ellie’s heart swells at the thought of being protected, but it doesn’t swell too much, hardened by the mere idea of Mike calling you stupid shit like that. “You could have told him. Mike’s creepy, but I don’t think he’d try anything.” Your frown deepens, eyes go distant. “I don’t know Ellie, he seemed…” you whisper, voice cracking, “he was really mad at me.”
Ellie doesn’t think. Just, opens her arms, and you immediately reach up into her, wrapping your arms around her neck and settling against her.
She breathes you in. Starts to rub your back, long fingers scooting up the fabric and sliding back down. 
Ellie feels the lines of you. Let’s you burrow into her neck, and she hears you exhale, the tension leaking out of you as she rubs your back.
Ellie holds you like you’re hers.
In some ways – ways she won’t even admit to herself yet – you are. It’s why she doesn’t hesitate to admit that “you know I’ll beat the shit out of him if he tries anything, right?” When you don’t respond, Ellie pulls away and cups your cheeks. She bends to your gaze, eyes hard as she proclaims, “I mean it.” “Do I have to pay extra for your protection?” you laugh, trying to break the tension, but Ellie can’t bring herself to joke around – too fuelled by anger -- yet she does flash you a smile.  
“Promise you’ll tell me if he speaks to you again?” You nod, finally meeting her gaze, “promise,” and Ellie nods, satisfied.
“Okay, let’s get you something to eat,” and she pulls away from the sofa, padding to the kitchen, your eyes on the back of her head the entire time. When she opens the cupboard door, she realises her hands are shaking.
Ellie feeds you.
The pair of you silently eat together, comfortable in the noise of her playing her game, the adventure-themed backing music filling the room. 
The high you both share seems to make you sleepy, and eventually, you’re resting against her, head leaning on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her arm. Your breathing settles and slows, and a couple of hours later, Ellie wakes.
Her PS5 has gone into sleep mode. The tv has switched off, and the only light is the blue beam of her gaming console and the moon cracking through the window. 
She blearily inhales the night, looking down at you, and the shuffle wakes you up. “Mm,” you hum, blinking awake. You lift your head and twist to her, Ellie dazedly watching the moon glinting on the side of your face.
“I’m sorry – fell asleep,” you whisper, rubbing your eyes, and Ellie lazily shakes her head, fueled by the cute sleepy look on your face. She wants nothing more than for you to rest, so she reaches out, caressing your hair, “No, s’okay, go back to sleep.” You hum, drowsily holding her hand, “Wanna get comfy.” Ellie, like always, doesn’t think. Too tired to remember the rules of your friendship, she pulls your groggy frame into her, and you immediately wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lay the pair of you down. 
She crowds you against the back of the sofa, arms around you as you settle against her chest, your hands pressing into the cotton of her hoodie.
You nuzzle deeper, and whisper, “Cold,” and Ellie reaches up, grabbing for the blanket. She throws it over the pair of you, and you smile into her chest, humming a thank you. A minute later, when she thinks you’ve fallen asleep, she hears your small voice whisper, “’ m sorry for panicking,” and Ellie shakes her head. “Shh,” she breathes, “S’okay baby,” and she places a soft kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep.”
When Ellie wakes, your hands are under her hoodie.
It’s the first thing she notices.
Not the beam of the early morning sun cracking through her fluttering curtains. Not the couple having an argument on the balcony beside her apartment, no – it’s your warm palms resting against her bare chest, fingers rubbing comforting circles into her rib cage.
Your face is snuggled into the crock of her neck, the tickly flutter of your subtle breathing vibrating against her hoodie. She’s still groggy with sleep, and it reacts instinctively to the touch.
Her whole-body flushes -- belly tightens, thick with something gooey.
She lets you hold her like that. Let’s you snuggle closer into her chest, nose pushing against her breasts, and she hums a lazy sigh, cradling your body tighter.
In Ellie’s absent mind, and sleepy state, she lets your fingers drag up, thumb sliding dangerously close to the bottom of her breast.
She’s braless – because of course she is – and your touch is so gentle, comforting – delicate, that Ellie leans to it, not thinking, not realising as she dozes off to it.
Too tired to care, it feels too good to second guess.
The small brush of your thumb continues, lulling Ellie into a catatonic state. At some point, you speak. Drowsily whisper a hum, then mumble something else.
“S’warm,” you mutter, shuffling, body dragging against hers as you drape an open thigh over hers. Your hand moves, too, thumb skidding over her nipple, lazily rubbing back and forth.
Ellie’s whole-body flushes.
She hushes a sound, cradling you closer, long fingers plunging between your thigh and knee as she hitches you higher. There’s no restraint there. No fear. In her hazy, numb mind, she’s thinking – closer. Thinking, more.
The warmth of the sun beams down on your intertwined bodies, cars bleat, and people yell – but the pair of you are none the wiser as you snooze, tangled with each other like vines.
Slow moments pass. Moments where Ellie’s rubbing your kneecap. Where your hands slip through her auburn hair, looping the strands between your fingers.
Ellie feels you shuffle again.
You dreamily mumble, “’ wanna be closer,” and she doesn’t fight you as you push into her, pressing her flat onto the sofa and dragging your hips over her body to rest completely on top of her. 
Almost instinctively, Ellie’s hands reach to rest on your ass, and you hum into her neck, pressing back against her touch.
“’ S’nice,” you mumble, kissing under her jaw. The touch makes her legs ache -- the warmth of it pooling between her thighs, and then slowly, oh so slowly, your hips start to roll. 
Crotch drags against hers, the denim of your jeans pushing against her pussy, and Ellie dazedly moans.
“Keep doing that,” she whispers, and you nod, mumbling an okay, as your hips sleepily drag against hers. Your hand clutches the side of her neck, and her name breathlessly spills out of your mouth.
Ellie, you whisper, semi-conscious, followed by a small whimper. The pair of you continue to move like that -- half asleep and desperate. The world spins. Morning fades, and when Ellie wakes, her whole body burns.
An intense pressure is pushing between her thighs, and her skin feels electric -- a live wire – with goose bumps washing over her body.
She blinks the world into focus. Something is tickling her neck, and it’s then that your predicament falls into place.
Your body is straddling hers.
Ellie’s gripping your ass, helping you drag your hips, and she’s suddenly incredibly confused, before her belly tightens, clit aching.
Oh fuck, she thinks, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.
“Babe,” she bleats, needing you to wake you up. “Mmm?” you murmur against her neck, hips still gently grinding. Ellie doesn’t know what to say. Get off of me isn’t all that polite, but if you continue to grind against her like this, she’ll come. 
Luckily, she doesn’t have to say anything else, as you wake with a sharp inhale, and there’s a quiet second before you freeze, your body locking up.
“Oh my god,” you mumble pointedly into her neck, and Ellie slowly lifts her hands from your ass. “Yeah, I don’t –” she whispers, staring at the ceiling. “--don’t know when this happened.”
Heat pools between her thighs, and in her groggy, fucked out mind, she fleetingly remembers you starting to drag your crotch against hers, whispering about wanting her closer. 
Remembers you breathlessly moaning her name, then kissing her neck. Remembers her begging, keep doing that.
You fidget, hips innocently slotting over hers, and you choke an “Mmh,” sounding incredibly similar to a whimper. 
The sound goes straight to Ellie’s clit, and she mouths a curse at the ceiling. Her fingers flex with the memory of your ass in her palms, coaching you as you ground into her.
The silence drags.
Ellie’s body doesn’t stop aching.
You fidget again, as if you don’t know what to do – fingers flex against her neck, wet lips drag over her jaw and Ellie snaps. “Babe, I’m sorry, but you gotta—” she chokes, “—gotta stop touching me or I’ll—” Ellie doesn’t have to finish – thankfully -- because you suddenly slide off of her, seemingly getting it as you drop to the floor in a collection of limbs, scrambling to lean against the sofa.
Ellie’s hands pause in the air. She keeps completely still, begging for the desire to pass.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “’s’okay,” Ellie bleats, hoping you don’t hear the desperation in her voice, “it was me too.” “I don’t—” you start, shaking your head, and the pulsing between Ellie’s thighs doesn’t go away. She suddenly feels awful. 
After a few painful seconds, she notices you shakily get up, and you don’t say a word as you shuffle out of the hallway and into the bathroom.
When she hears the lock click, Ellie’s palm immediately pushes between her thighs, eyes rolling back at the ceiling.
Bad idea, she thinks, but fuck it. 
She imagines you doing the same thing. Imagines you resting against her bathroom door, your hand pushing under your jeans, coming hot and sticky over your fingers.
You’d whimpered for fucks sake. 
Moaned her God damn name, and as Ellie grinds against her knuckles, the memory of you huffing her a desperate fuck fills her mind, followed by the soft, quiet whisper of you breathing, wanna come, into the shell of her neck.
Ellie hoists herself off the sofa, ignoring the pressing heat of her cunt, and storms to the bathroom, knocking against the locked door. “Babe?” she asks. There are a few seconds before you mutter a “Yeah?” and Ellie closes her eyes. “You wanna talk about it?” She calls through the door. Your strained voice bleeds through the wood, “Not really.” The girl doesn’t know what to say. This has never happened before. So, she chooses humour.
She breathes a laugh, “At least lemme finish you off,” she jokes, and immediately regrets it, closing her eyes in shame.
She doesn’t expect you to pause, then whisper, “um. I’m good,” then, “it kinda already happened.”
“Jesus Christ,” Ellie groans, head falling against the door. “When?” “Think sometime after you asked me to keep doing that.” “You gotta come out, gotta let me see you.” “Can’t we just never talk about it again?” “Is that what you want?”
There’s another pause. 
“Ellie,” you whisper, pained. “If I see you, I’m going to die of embarrassment.” “These things happen,” she tries to counter. “They do?” “No. I don’t think they do.”
You groan, and she hears the sound of something hitting the wall. Ellie imagines you throwing a roll of toilet roll. “You have to come out sometime,” she speaks. “Nope. I’ll die in the toilet. Like Elvis.” “Not a good way to go.” “If it means literally never talking about this again, I don’t mind.” “Okay,” Ellie huffs, breathing a smile. “We’ll never talk about this again.” “You promise?” “Yeah, I’ll never bring up the fact that you sleepily came against me on one random Saturday morning.”
“Ellie!” you yell, throwing something at the door. There goes another toilet roll.
“Can you stop trashing my bathroom and just come out?” “Promise me!” “Fine—” Ellie clips. “Promise. I would Pinky promise, but that requires you coming out of the bathroom.”
Finally, she hears the door unlock. You pull it open, and fuck – there you are. Eyes sleepy and features flustered. Your t-shirt is askew, and Ellie fleetingly remembers pushing her hands beneath it, dragging her nails against your back.
You hold your little finger out, “Pinky promise to never think about it or bring it up ever again?”
Ellie nods and wraps her Pinky around yours, heat still swelling in her belly. “Promise.”
Ellie always was good at lying.
PART THREE
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angstysebfan · 11 months
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Always The Friend Part 2
Pair: Bucky Barnes / Female Reader  Summary: It’s the next morning and you have to decide if staying is the best choice since Bucky obviously doesn’t want you as a friend either.  Warnings: Implied smut... thats all. Oh and the feels. lol
A/N: Rewriting my whole masterlist, so hang on tight. Hope these will be better than the originals! I tend to write for female readers, but I try not to use any details so this will be for all races. If you see me miss a detail, please let me know so I can fix it. I want everyone to be able to enjoy my stories.
My stories have not been beta’d or really edited, so sorry of there is some mistakes.
Read part 1 here
The next day you wake up feeling horrible. Like you were hungover but didn't drink. You still can’t believe you unknowingly told Bucky your feelings and he hasn't said anything. He hasn't come to talk to you or anything. Now, not only is your heart broken from unrequited love, but you also lost your best friend in the process. You knew you shouldn't have told him, because look what happens when he finds out. You're sure he is probably laughing with Emily over your stupidity.
You drag yourself out of bed because you are hungry. You skipped dinner last night, not wanting to see him, but you know you can't skip another meal. You figured you would lay low for the next few days and let things die down. If it's still too awkward, or Bucky and Emily make it hard on you, you will have to make a decision on whether to stay or not. But for now, you will lay low and stay hidden if possible. First you will sneak into the kitchen for food and then hunker down in your room.
“Friday, is anyone out in the hall right now?” You ask the AI.
“No, agent Y/L/N,” she replies. You sigh in relief and head out your door. You quietly walk to the kitchen hoping to grab coffee and a small box of cereal to bring back to your room.
When you walk into the kitchen it's empty. Thank god! So you quickly put get everything you need and start the process of making coffee. You're trying to be quick to get out of there before someone, especially Bucky, sees you.
“Y/N?” you hear quietly. You close your eyes in both frustration. Damn silent super soldier. 
You take a deep breath and refuse to turn towards him. “Morning. I.... uh... just wanted to get coffee and cereal. I won’t bother you,” you say quickly. 
You continue to make your coffee feeling the heat climb up the back of your neck. Already the tears are starting to form. Stop! Don't give him anything!
“I-I actually wanted to talk to you,” he said taking a cautious step toward you.
You turn and look at him. “Please don’t,” you say. 
You look at his face and see that he hasn't slept at all. The dark circles under his eyes, the puffiness and redness, he looks... horrible. You ignore it cause he made you feel horrible.
“I don’t need to hear how embarrassed you were to hear what I said in front of your girlfriend, or how you don’t feel the same way. I'll assume our friendship is over, which sucks, but I understand,” You voice cracked.
You grab your supplies and head out of the kitchen back to your room and lock your door. Only then did you allow the tears to come out again, your proud that you stood your ground and said something. It doesn't help your broken heart, but right now nothing will help that. As you sit there silently crying, there is a light knock on your door. You ignore it, not wanting to see anyone, when you hear Bucky call through the door.
"Bells, please. Let me in. I just wanna talk. Please," he whispers that last word, but you heard it.
You decide to hear him out. At least then you can get closure and decide if staying here is the best thing for you. You wipe your tears and walk to the door, opening it and walking away, letting Bucky walk in on his own accord. He comes in and slowly closes the door as you sit on your bed, refusing to look at him. He sighs and sits next to you, allowing your shoulders to touch. Your betraying body once again burns with the skin to skin contact.
“I have a lot to apologize for Y/N. First is that I should've ran after you yesterday or at least come last night after allowing things to calm down. I was just scared I guess, but I'm sorry. I've been trying to get the guts to come here and talk all night. So, when I ran into you in the kitchen I knew if I didn't talk to you now I was truly going to lose you, and... and I can't have that.”
You looked at him for a moment. “What were you scared of?” You asked, ignoring the fluttering in your heart at the rest of his declaration.
He gulps and takes a deep breath. “Scared that you didn’t really mean it. That you're not really in love with me. I-I've been in love with you since the day I met you, my Bella, and the thought of you feeling the same way doesn't make sense to me. I mean you're so amazing and I'm... me,” You’re speechless. 
"When will you finally see yourself the way everyone else does? Bucky, your the most caring person in the world. You would give anyone the shirt off your back if they needed it. You're amazing Bucky. More amazing then you even know, which is why I meant it. I've been in love with you for so long, but I was scared I would lose you, and well now you have Emily, so."
“I broke up with Emily right after you left the room. She kept me away from you on purpose, and I wasn’t 100% sure about her anyway. Besides, if there was even the slightest chance I could be with the love of my life, I was going to try.” He said shrugging at you. “I’m just sorry I didn’t come to you yesterday. I should have and told you all of this right away. I should have told you awhile ago. But...”
You put your hand to his mouth, silencing him. “We both should have said something awhile ago. I’m sorry I never did, but... I love you Bucky. I’ve loved you since I met you.” Bucky smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Can I kiss you, Belle?” He whispered rubbing his nose against yours. You nodded wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowers his head to bring your lips to his.
--
You and Bucky spent the whole day in your room. You talked more about your feelings, and expressed them in the best way possible. Finally you both decide it's time to stop hiding, you showered, together, and head to dinner with the team with large smiles on your faces. When you walk in, hand in hand, the team all looks at the two of you with a smirk.
“About time you stopped being an idiot, Tinman!” Sam yelled.
Bucky flipped him off as you giggle leaning into Bucky. Bucky looks down at you with a soft smile wrapping his metal arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head. Dinner was eventful. The whole team talked about how it was about time you both told each other how you felt. You curled into Bucky’s side blushing by the end of the conversation. 
“Well I for one am so glad you two finally figured it out,” Steve said as dinner was wrapping up, staying silent up to this point.
“Oh yeah? Why's that punk?” Bucky said with a raised eyebrow. Everyone at the table looked at Steve, who had a big smile.
“Because... now I don’t need to hear you whine and pine about Y/N. 'Oh I love her but she will never love me back. Do you think she likes me?' You sounded like a teenage girl!” Steve said imitating Bucky.
Everyone was shocked at this, but then the whole table started laughing hysterically. You looked up at Bucky, who still had his jaw dropped in shock, and blushing. You laugh, taking his face in your hands, drawing his eyes to you. “It’s okay baby, I love how much you whined and pined for me. Makes me feel... special,” You bring him toward you and peck his lips.
Bucky smiled at you. “You are the most special, my Bella. I love you,” He says before kissing you again to the sounds of your team whooping in the background.
--
Gotta love happy endings!! Hope you all enjoyed. Feedback is appreciated. And stay tuned for my other works getting a reboot!
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324 notes · View notes
mymoonagedaydream · 11 months
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Part 2
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Language, vague references to violence
Author’s Note: Much appreciate all the love for part one, thanks y’all!
Part 1
---
The sound of your alarm pissed you off even more than usual the next morning. 
You padded down the hallway, pulled down on the knotted string hanging from the ceiling of your bathroom and winced when your face appeared in the mirror. Your horrendous night of sleep was vividly painted across your face, seeping into every pore and newly formed wrinkle. You pulled and prodded at your dull skin. Hopefully no-one would mention it.
Anxious thoughts slowly dripped into your mind as you got ready for work, eventually settling like a heavy cloud that hung around you as you left your apartment and began to walk down the stairs. You’d fought with Bucky before, of course you had, but you’d never been left feeling like this. Your relationship always teetered on the edge of chaos but this is the first time it felt like it might have lost its balance.
You paused at the bottom of the stairs, collecting yourself and taking your first deep breath of the day. The cloud thinned a little. You’d get through this, you told yourself repeatedly, you just needed some time. Turning into the lobby, your nerves were further soothed by the familiar sound of rustling paper, a faint smile starting on your lips when you spotted your old friend huddled in the corner.
“Morning, Lily,” you stopped beside her and let your eyes dance over the headlines she’d neatly arranged on the floor, “anything exciting today?”
She swivelled round from her crouched position as soon as she heard your voice, something resembling concern washing over her crinkled features. “Oh, are you alright dear?”
“Course.” You gulped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Last night, I heard some raised voices and loud rattling. I thought it might be the television but I never usually hear-”
“It was the TV,” you forced a smile, “sorry. I’ll try to keep it down from now on.”
“If you say so.”
Her eyes twinkled slightly as she turned back around, attention returning to the papers. You reached for the latch on the door and pulled it open but, before you could step outside, she thrust something into your free hand and firmly closed your fingers around it. A shrewd smile briefly flashed in your direction before it and its host disappeared through a doorway like some kind of moth-eaten grey shadow.
You shook your head, just to double check you weren’t in some kind of vivid fever dream. Sometimes it worked.
Stepping outside, you paused and uncrumpled your daily offering. It was a clipping from the vows section of an old New York Times. A young couple were pictured, dressed in all their wedding finery, grinning above the headline Against All Odds. You chuckled and glanced back at the building, sometimes that place was weirder than a fever dream.
Checking up and down the street, you saw no sign of Bucky’s car. What a relief. He obviously realised you’d need some space after what happened, he could be smart like that when he took a second to stop and think instead of letting his paranoia get the better of him. If only he did that more often.
You turned and began the short walk to the library, neatly folding the paper and sliding it into your pocket. The usual sounds of engines backfiring and horns blaring were slowly tuned out as you became lost in thought, replaying the events of last night in your head. You understood why Bucky worried so much, and sometimes you felt guilty for letting it piss you off, given the circumstances, but you just couldn’t help wishing he’d at least try to move on.
The two of you never really spoke about it. It was just over a year ago when you started to notice the same guy cropping up more and more in your daily routine, leaning against an expensive-looking car with a cigarette in his mouth outside your apartment, browsing through the Home and Lifestyle magazine section at the library, joining the queue behind you at your regular coffee shop. At first you brushed the encounters off as coincidences, as someone new to the area exploring the few pleasant attractions, but noticing him tucked in the back corner of the bar during karaoke night made you start to panic.
Bucky erupted when you told him. He stormed out of your apartment as soon as you finished speaking and didn’t show up again until two days later, with the same clothes on and no skin left on his knuckles.
You guided him through to the kitchen and stuck his hands under the faucet, running warm water over the wounds while you prepared some bandages. He shook off your questions at first, only drip-feeding you bits of information once you’d cleaned him up, the thin veil of calm periodically slipping away and revealing a deep, frightened anger. 
He told you that you were being targeted, while in the same breath promising that it wouldn’t be a problem anymore, that he’d solved it. He didn’t say what you were being targeted for. He didn’t say how he’d solved it. You didn’t ask.
Even since then Bucky had been incredibly jumpy, obviously terrified that the next incident might end differently. You never said it, but at the time you found yourself hoping the whole ordeal would be enough to convince him to leave all that shit behind, hoping you wouldn’t have to keep choosing the man you loved over your own safety.
You’d underestimated how deep his father’s insidious claws had already sunk in.
You finally checked your phone on your lunch break. Just the one missed call, he knew how to take a hint. Biting your thumb nervously, you typed out a message, offering to meet after you finished work. The coffee shop where you first met seemed like the best idea, somewhere public but filled with happy memories for the both of you. Hallowed ground.
He was waiting with your drink in front of him when you arrived. He always did that, made sure to arrive early so you didn’t have to wait in line, and you were always too appreciative of the gesture to point out that your coffee was cold by the time you got to it. His hands reached across the table to hold yours as soon as you sat down. You let it happen but didn’t let your arms stretch towards him at all, you couldn’t have him thinking he was off the hook just like that. There were a few seconds of uncomfortable silence before he cleared his throat and spoke.
“I’m so sorry baby,” his fingertips brushed over your lightly bruised wrist, “are you alright? Did I hurt you?”
“Only a little.” That answer seemed to pain him but you weren’t sure what else to say. It was the truth.
“You need anything? I can ask for some ice, or go around the corner for some Tylenol?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
You lowered your gaze to his hands so he wouldn’t see the faint smile you were attempting to smother. Again, you didn’t want to give him the impression that everything was back to normal, but you couldn’t help the joy you felt at the reappearance of your usual, sweet Bucky.
“I can’t believe I did that,” he swallowed harshly, “wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me. Don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.”
You took a deep breath.
“I forgive you.”
“You do?”
“Yes, but only because I know you, Buck, and that wasn’t you. It was-”
You cut yourself off, unsure if stepping into this territory again was wise.
“Was what?”
“It was more like something your dad would do.”
He looked down into his coffee. “You’re probably right.”
That seemed to hit him pretty hard. You understood what he was feeling, coming to terms with the fact that the man you’d looked up to your whole life was, to put it mildly, deeply flawed was a fucking rough thing to do. 
He just needed time. Lucky for him, you were more than willing to wait a little longer, you just needed to make sure the two of you were on the same page.
“Look, I know why you think you want all these changes. All the men in your family follow the same path, meeting a nice girl at church, moving in together, marrying within a year, kids within two. Some people want that and that's fine, but I don’t, and I don’t think you do either.”
“I just want you,” his grip on your hands tightened slightly, “however.”
“Then we’ll figure this out.”
He smiled. You smiled back, loosening the tension in your arms so he could pull your hands closer. The two of you stayed there, talking, until the coffee shop closed and they swept you out onto the sidewalk. Things were starting to feel better.
He held his elbow out and you laced your arm through his, the two of you starting the short walk back to your apartment by predicting how many clippings Lily would have for him today. Your conversation was cut short, however, when his phone began chiming from his pocket. It was his dad. He apologised, answered and told him he’d call back later. As long as you’d known Bucky he’d never once sent his dad to voicemail.
You pictured the villain on the other end of the phone, bright red face framed by a receding hairline. He was quite a bit shorter than Buck but in surprisingly good shape for an old guy who was never without a cigar and a glass of liquor. His shape, however, wasn’t enough to compensate for his oily demeanour and the permanent leer that was etched on his face. To men like him, women were either useless or they were receptionists, and receptionists were just potential mistresses with plausible deniability. 
He never liked you. In all fairness, you never liked him either, but at least your dislike had been vindicated when you overheard him at Bucky’s brother’s wedding calling you a cheap broad. You’d never done anything to him. Well, nothing he knew about.
You chose not to tell Buck about that, but only because you wanted him to come to his own conclusions about his father, to see the light without you having to shine it directly into his face. Your heart filled with dread as you watched him pacing and struggling to get off the phone, hoping against hope that he’d never turn into that man.
He eventually managed to free himself, his expression turning pretty bleak as he walked back over.
“Everything alright?”
“Mhmm.”
“Buck.”
“It’s nothing, really, I just-” he rubbed his eyes, “I kinda felt like I needed to talk to someone earlier, so I told my brother about last night. Fucking stupid thing to do.”
“Why’s that?”
“Cause it sounds like he’s already told pretty much anyone willing to listen, now dad’s trying to set me up on a date with one of his friend’s daughters.”
“Damn, he works quick.”
“Tell me about it.”
You chuckled. “I guess that’s what you get for picking an outsider.”
He forced a smile. You could see the cogs starting to work in his head. The whole time you’d been together he’d been trying desperately to come up with a way to marry his two opposing lives together, to work out all the kinks and somehow make everyone happy. It broke your heart having to watch him slowly realise that it might not be possible, and you wondered if he’d ever even considered what kind of life would make him happy.
You tightened your arm around his. “You know I’d never ask you to choose, right?”
“I know.” He planted a kiss on your temple. “Thank you.”
---
Part 3
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Reunion Part 2
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: ~1.3k
Summary: You make things up to your wife
A/N: Enjoy part 2! 
Warnings: Jealousy, fluff and suggestive content
Wanda’s left with a case of whiplash when you simply nodded in response and immediately decided to leave. She didn’t understand, and had not been expecting this reaction out of you, but you’d promised her that you’d do exactly what she asked. You left the hotel room in a blur and she’s left wondering what the hell she said wrong.
Maybe she hadn’t been clear enough. She’d meant for you to stay in bed with her, yet you’d run out of the hotel room like it was on fire. Wanda had just stared in shock and confusion unable to gather her wits to follow you. She quickly switches from confused to perturbed when she realizes that you’re not coming back. She stands up and goes to the fridge in the room and quickly grabs a bottle of booze. She starts to open it, but she realizes that she doesn’t really want it so she decides to just sit on the bed and pout for a few minutes.
What the fuck were you doing?
You’re panting by the time you get back to the reunion, It’s in full swing now and there are a lot more people that you recognize. You try not to worry about this right now because your priority is finding Jessica and setting things straight. You try not to sweat as you wade through the crowd of people while looking for a familiar redhead. When you spot her you take a deep breath grabbing your phone out of your pocket with a smile.
“Hey Jessica!”
The redhead doesn’t hear you immediately which is fine because you’re dialing your wife’s number. When Wanda sees that you’re calling she’s quick to answer because she’s hoping that you will tell her where you are and what’s happening. As soon as you hear the call connect you’re talking quickly.
“Wands, please listen, I’m about to prove your point.”
You don’t give your wife any time to consider what you’re talking about before she hears you call for someone she hadn’t expected.
“Jessica!”
Jessica is shocked to see you back here and she frowns despite being glad to see that your wife is nowhere in sight. The idea that you took her back to the hotel because you didn’t want her here makes her smile as she walks over to you.
“Y/n, hey, you’re back.”
You smile at her despite what you’re about to say and you keep your phone in your hand as you reach out for her. You’d realized what you had to do as soon as Wanda told you to make up for what you’d done. You’re not sure if this is what she had in mind, but you’d known that this was the only way you’d feel better about what you did. Despite hating confrontation, you’re smiling widely as you touch Jessica’s shoulder to get her to step closer. You’re almost glad your wife didn’t follow you here because her anger would be renewed at seeing how you’re acting.
“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you if that’s cool? It will only take a second, really.”
Wanda and Jessica both furrow their brows in confusion, but only the redhead in front of you responds.
“Uh, sure?”
You nod before you go for it.
“Great, thanks. I just wanted to apologize for saying or doing anything that made you think I was interested in you, now or back then. Mostly now.”
You see the incredulous, affronted look on her face and since you don’t hear any protests from her or your wife you continue. You just have to make a point and then you’ll leave and hopefully be able to make up with Wanda for this shit show. You are seriously wishing that you’d just stayed in your hotel room or gone out instead of coming here at all. You barely caught up with people and you were in trouble with your wife which was never fun.
“Awesome, I also wanted to say that flirting with me in front of Wanda was a low blow, and even if she hadn’t been with me, I hope you know nothing would have come from it.”
Jessica’s scowling now and she crosses her arms in annoyance at both you and your absent wife. She’s sure that you’d been sent back here to tell her this and she scoffs at the idea before shooting you an unimpressed look.
“What? Did she make you come back here to tell me that?”
You’re smiling despite the annoyance you feel growing with each passing second. You glance at your phone to see that your wife hasn’t hung up which you figure is a good thing. You’d assumed she’d ask this question because it did all sound very rehearsed, which it was because you’d basically shouted it at yourself alone in the car on the way over. She didn’t need to know that though.
“No, she didn’t, but I realized pretty quickly after leaving here that I should have said this sooner. If I hadn’t been so thrown off by your overfamiliarity, I would have, but this is my fault. I wasn’t a good wife and I’m trying to make up for this now because I love her too much not to. Any questions?”
Wanda’s sitting on the bed at this point as she listens to you set Jessica straight. She can’t help but smile widely at your words and how you’d literally left her to go do this. She realizes the impact would have been diminished a little by her presence, so she’s glad that she let you storm out of here.
When Jessica just huffs and storms off you smile before turning and leaving quickly. You sigh in relief before you put your phone to your ear as you walk out to the parking lot.
“I hope that was acceptable. She kinda ran off. I wasn’t in the mood to chase her.”
Wanda can’t help but laugh at this and she wishes you were here so she could hug you tightly. There’s a couple of other things she’d like to do as well, but those will happen soon if she gets her way.
“It was perfect, detka. Thank you.”
You breathe a sigh of relief and your face starts to ache by how much you’re smiling, but you don’t care. You’re sure you look a little odd to any passersby, but they don’t matter to you. You just want to get back to your wife.
“Good, I’m glad. I really am sorry, Wands.”
You get into your car and start it quickly as you get buckled. It will be a challenge not to speed back to the hotel now that Wanda wasn’t mad at you anymore. Wanda sighs as she shakes her head at your apology. You’ve made up your misstep with her, and as far as she’s concerned you don’t have to apologize anymore. She’d heard what you said, and she believed that you didn’t care about Jessica. Certainly not enough to think of telling her about Jessica before today.
“It’s okay, Y/n. You did a good job for me. How about you come back and I give you a reward?”
You almost roll into traffic when Wanda says this, and you slam on the brake which almost sends your head into the steering wheel. You wince as the tires squeal loudly and a horn blares just in front of you.
“Shit, you literally almost killed me.”
If it weren’t for your tone, Wanda would have been more worried than amused. She simply laughs before hearing you speed off hopefully in a rush to get here. She decided that she had a little time to get ready and she jumped out of bed and ran to her suitcase.
“Sorry, detka. Be safe though, I’ll be here waiting for you.”
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aemondsbeloved · 1 year
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The Cost of Duty Pt. 2
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pairing(s): (Mentioned) Aegon II Targaryen x reader, Aemond Targaryen x reader
summary: It has been weeks since you’ve seen Aegon after you reminded him of your duty to your betrothed, his brother. If you thought you could keep your affections for Prince Aegon a secret to Aemond you were wrong.
warnings: none I think? mentions of drinking and alcoholism. this is kinda angsty kinda not. love triangle vibes between aegon, aemond and the reader but also kind of not. probably typos in this, I will edit later
notes: I haven’t really been on here because of finals taking up all my time BUT here’s part two! this is very little women inspired with aemond and the reader being like Amy and Laurie. there will be another part
[read part 1 here]
It had been weeks since you’ve seen Aegon more than a glimpse in the castle that you were granted. Ever since he had left you in the hillside of the Red Keep when you told him you would do your duty and marry his brother despite your love for him, he had done much to avoid you.
Now, you were with your betrothed. Prince Aemond held your arm as you walked the gardens.
Before you spent time in the gardens alone sometimes reading a book or doing embroidery, while other times Princess Helaena, your soon to be good sister, would join you. She had not joined you as of late, why you did not know, but you knew that Aemond without fail would come to the gardens to walk with you after his training with Ser Criston.  
“My sister has not been accompanying you as much,” He observed quietly. “Is there a reason behind this?”
When you were first betrothed to Aemond you thought his questions like this were very accusatory and had often wondered if he asked them expecting someone was always lying to him somehow. Helaena had told you this was not the case and you had trusted her.
“I am not sure, my Prince” You replied. “I had thought she was busy with her duties and I did not want to presume that she would always be free to spend her time with me.”
“What have I told you about calling me Aemond?” He asked with warmth in his voice, almost like he found your manners endearing. “We’ve known one another since we were children, the least you could do is stop the formalities.”
You only wish the smile on his face, one of mirth or at least as much mirth as someone like Aemond could muster, could incite the reaction that one from his elder brother would. There was no heat rising to your neck and cheeks nor did you feel any butterflies in your stomach at it, much to your disappointment.
You smiled in apology to him, gently squeezing his arm that you held with yours as you walked.
“I think, perhaps, that Helaena might be spending more time with my brother, if you would believe such a thing.”
You schooled your features trying not to show surprise. “Is that so?” You asked, instead.
He hummed. “Mother wants to get them married sooner rather than late and is not content with how my brother spends little time with Helaena, so he has been told to spend time with her.”
“Why move up the wedding date?” You asked, curiously.
He shrugged. “She did not say. I think, perhaps, it has something to do with father’s health. She wishes for him to see them wed, I would say. Even my grandsire agrees that they should be wed soon.”
“That is such good news” You said, despite not truly believing it as you pushed a bright smile onto your face. “It will be a wondrous thing to be at a wedding in the Sept.”
“Do not lie to me, Y/N” Aemond said, not unkind, as you reached a quieter, more secluded part of the gardens where a rose bush bloomed. “I am not blind and I know you better than you might think. Your attachment to Aegon is no secret to me.”
He had turned to you, dropping your arm for a moment as he faced you. “I am, perhaps, not the husband you wish for, but we share a duty now. My brother and sister are going to be wed soon and we too will be married by spring’s end.”
Your skin felt hot and your dress itched as you could not look him in the eye now. The shame of it, if Aemond thought you had perhaps done something with his brother besides spending time with him.
“Aemond, I—” You cut yourself off, not knowing what to say in your slight panic at what he may think of you. Affection for him or not, the thought of him, someone you had been friends with since your youth, thinking lowly of you, cut you deeply. “I have not sullied myself with Aegon.”
You pinched your eyebrows together, your eyes squinting closed at your phrasing. Sighing, you opened your eyes again. “I only mean to say that I have not lay with him. I would not do that to you, or Helaena. I-I know what you think of him, the same what your mother and grandsire think of him, but he hasn’t— we haven’t.”
“Hush” He said soothingly, holding your arm with a gentle squeeze, a gesture of reassurance. “You do not need to explain yourself to me. Ser Criston has told me you spend time with one another with great frequence, that is all.”
Your skin felt aflame at that. You had not gone into his bed chambers, you had not lain with him in bed, but you had sought him out more than your betrothed, his brother. Somehow, spending time with Aegon on the hill of the Red Keep overlooking King’s Landing felt like a more lethal form of treachery. You had told him you loved him and would only ever love him. You hated yourself for it and you hated how true the love for Aegon was despite the man standing in front of you.
“We are to be married. You will be my lord husband. If I do not have to explain my misgivings to you, who do I have to explain myself to?”
He smiled at that. Not the restrained smiled, but an open, content one. It was like hearing the words, my lord husband, from your tongue was all it took to please him. At that the knife in your heart twisted brutally.
He was making it so easy to love him with his smile, his kindness you were undeserving of, the duty he had kept to you. And you were stuck thinking of his brother, the one who had pulled your hair when you were children, and now told you he wanted to run away, shirk from his duties to his family, soon to be sister wife, and the throne.
How despicable you had turned out to be. What would your Septa say now if she could see you?
“I would never accuse you of such a thing” He said. “You are a woman of honor even if my brother has none. I will be proud to call my lady wife.”
“Aemond…” You voice trailed off, sounding unsure and quiet. What was there to say? He knew from Ser Criston Cole that you would meet with Aegon, seeking him out and having too deep a friendship to be so platonic.
“Come,” He urged, taking your arm again. “Let us walk some more, my Lady.”
“I asked a favor of Ser Criston” He told you, which made you curiously look at him from the side of your eye. “I wasn’t so sure he would agree, being as devoted as he is to my mother, but he will not tell her how you and Aegon spend so much time together. In these past weeks she has come to the conclusion that her idea to have Aegon spend more time with my sister is the reasoning behind him not being seen in the street of silk. Ser Criston agreed that it is better if this allusion remains.”
You briefly recalled how the last time you had seen Aegon he had said how glad Aemond would be if he knew he was the reason behind the elder Targaryen’s drinking habits, all because Aemond would have you and Aegon would never.
“She has elected to ignore how he barely makes it to his bed these day without the help of a Kingsguard, a new low for my brother, but I must allow my mother to take a reprieve from worrying over him.”
For a moment you wondered why he was telling you this. For the many years you had known him, Aemond was not one to do something without reason, much less tell others why he has done something.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you are to be my wife, my lady, and unlike my brother I wish my marriage to be a happy one.”
Your eyes were glued to the ground at his last words. Aegon had, after all, spent nearly all his time with you besides the last weeks and never even acknowledged his sister, his wife to be. You had let him a part of you loathed your actions. No, nothing sinful had occurred between you and Aegon but you did know he was betrothed to someone who was possibly the kindest Targaryen to have lived.
You were little better than Aegon, you wagered, as you had a betrothed who was dedicated to you but you had sought his brother’s company instead.
“I do not tell you this to cause you harm, Y/N.”
Using his index finger, he gently tilted up your chin so he could look at your reluctant gaze. His touch was gentle despite the roughness of his finger, calloused from years of training with the sword.
Aegon’s fingers, the ones who had held your hand, wiped away tears from your cheek, were as soft as could be. Unlike his younger brother, Aegon did not train with the sword much.
Aemond could not be more different than Aegon, you realized. When you hurt most, desperate for Aegon to stay, he had left you on the grassy hill. You could not see Aemond doing such a thing, even if you had hurt him somehow.
“But if we are to be happy in this marriage, you cannot seek my brother’s company as you have.”
You gulped as he told you this, looking at you intently. You did not want to disappoint him nor did you want to hurt him, so you grabbed one of his hands in yours squeezing it. “I promise I will do no such thing again, Aemond. I know my duty to you, our joining families, ourselves, I do.”
He sighed, part of him seeming relieved while the other part seemed to want to say something else. Your brow furrowed, confusion marring your features at this. “What is it?”
He dropped your hand. “You have to understand, my lady. I am the second son. I know I am not your preferred choice but—”
“That is not true, Aemond” You whispered shakily. “I do not view you as such—”
“But I am a second son. Aegon has my mother’s devotion. She has to give it to him with the errors he ceaselessly makes.” He said and you could hear the resentment. “But I cannot be second in my wife’s affections. I know you cannot have the man that you want and we will be wed no matter what our heart’s desires but I will not share my wife with my brother.”
His words may not have been angry but between you both you could feel the waves of resentment for his brother, the man he knew you cared too deeply for the be platonic. The words we will be wed no matter what our hearts desires rung through your mind.
Was their a paramour of your betrothed’s, you wondered.
“Is there someone you wish to wed?” You asked, doing your utmost to sound strong, hoping you did not waver. “Someone else?”
Hu hummed at that, the way Aegon said was annoying, but you knew Aemond. It was contemplative at most. Maybe even something he did not wish to say aloud.
He looked at you, smiled again, though you noted it was a little bit tighter, like he was already holding himself back from being open with you. Holding his arm out, you took it as you both continued your walk through the gardens.  
You did not get an answer of what his affections were and who for that day in the gardens, although you knew, even then, that this went beyond your duty in its complications.
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joshym · 11 months
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Lilac Moon: Chapter 2
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Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!Reader
Word count: 6.1k+
Warnings: (specific to this chapter) mentions of cheating, anxiety, and death of a parent, alcohol use, cursing, nauseating fluffiness, some passionate kissing (future chapters WILL contain 18+ content, so minors STAY AWAY)
Chapter 1
a/n: i’m so excited to share this story with you all. it’s been heavy on my mind for months now, and seeing it all written out makes me SO happy.🥹 i hope you love this installment. don’t be afraid to let me know what you think! and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.🤍 this story is just getting started. buckle up, my loves.
-lis🤍
Last night felt like a fever dream, the kind that leaves a fuzzy feeling in your head that you can’t shake. Had you actually agreed to touring with Greta Van Fleet? And they approached you about it?
This kind of thing just doesn’t happen- at least not to bands as small as Lilac Moon. Yeah, you’ve got a pretty decent following locally, but you’re certainly not big enough to open for them, right?
♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪
It’s the early afternoon the next day. You’re still in bed as you didn’t get home until around 3:00 in the morning. Even as you finally laid your tired body in the comfort of your sheets, you couldn’t shut your mind off long enough to acquire any sort of restful shut eye. 
Your mind has been racing with pure excitement and a little bit of disbelief. You also couldn’t shake the vision of Josh locking eyes with you, his cheeks flushing a pretty pink hue when his brother teased him about watching you on stage…and his hug. His body was so warm, his arms so intent on squeezing you in the softest embrace.
You knew that, more than likely, this all meant nothing. He’s quite a generous and loving person, this is just how he treats everyone.
You’ve been telling yourself since last night to not read into it much further…
But damn, if you didn’t crave another hug from him…one that wouldn’t break so easily.
Today you have a meeting to attend regarding the upcoming tour that’s set to begin in just under two months. You’re not sure what his process entails, but you have a feeling it’ll be a bit extensive.
You decide it’s about time to start getting ready for what the day has in store. You make it through a quick shower to freshen up a bit, feeling yourself slowly come back to life after the last few nights of gigs. 
You put on a little bit of makeup, just enough to give you a boost of confidence. You decide on a simple white summer dress that compliments your figure, your favorite pair of white sneakers, and, of course, the loads of gold jewelry that you never leave the house without.
You look yourself over in the mirror a bit to be sure you looked presentable. You’re doing your best to get rid of the nerves that have steadily been creeping on you since you woke up, your thoughts plagued with the unknown in this adventure you're gearing up for. 
You’re suddenly startled by your phone vibrating with a slew of text messages coming in back to back.
Ivy: Jay is pissed.
Ivy: He just found out about the tour…
Ivy: And he’s not happy that we made the decision without him. 
Ivy: Y/n, he’s threatening to not come today. You need to call him, you’re the only one that can calm his ass down. Please talk him down. I hate it but we need him.
You: Why the hell is he mad? This is literally what he wanted. This is so fucking stupid. This is what he does when he doesn’t get his way.
You: I’ll call him, just give me a sec.
As if your anxiety wasn’t bad enough, now you get to deal with the mess of calming Jay down and getting him on board. You knew that he should’ve been part of the decision making, and you do feel some guilt for that. But you knew better than to approach him after he’d been drinking. And to be honest, you didn’t want his horrible energy infiltrating the moment. 
You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly to relieve some stress as you get ready to press the ‘call’ button. You know that you need him, that Lilac Moon needs him. As much as it pains you to admit, the band simply can’t do this without him.
The ringing on the other end seems to go one forever, and you’re almost sure he’s waiting to answer until the last minute just to keep the ball in his court.
“Hey, y/n. Care to fill me in on what the fuck is going on?”
“Jay, I’m sorry. We should’ve gotten you before we said yes. That wasn’t fair to you. But this is exactly what we need. This will get us out of here. This is huge, Jay. We have to do this and we need you.”
“Funny that you need me for this fucking tour but didn’t need my permission to sign my life away for months on end.”
“Please just come to the meeting today. We don’t know all the details yet, we haven’t even signed with booking agents or anything. Just come and we can get it all worked out together, okay? Please, Jay. Don’t do this right now. This is too big of an opportunity.”
“Opportunity?” His voice was laced with sarcasm before he forced out a fake laugh. “K, I’ll be there.”
He abruptly hangs up the phone and leaves you even more worried about how this meeting will go today. Jay has never been the best at controlling his temper, and he often says whatever is on his mind without a second thought.
How you ever fell for this man is beyond you. You hate that you’re stuck with him for the promise of any sort of career. 
♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪
Ivy showed up to your apartment shortly after your phone call from hell. You two had decided to carpool to the meeting together. 
You rushed down the stairs of the apartment building to meet her, hurrying so you could get on the road as soon as possible. You didn’t want to make a bad impression by being fashionably late, and neither did Ivy. She was yet again blowing up your phone with ‘I’m here!’ and ‘HURRY!’ messages. 
You finally made it to her car and she sped off quicker than you were ready for.
“Holy shit, Ivy! I’d like to make it there in one piece if you don’t mind!”
You both bust up in laughter as your entire body is flung back violently against the carseat. 
You’re so grateful for her, for her knack of calming your anxious thoughts without even trying. She’s a safe place for you, and you are for her. Friendships like these are a rarity. 
You’ve finally made it to their managers house for the meeting. You’re shocked to see that Jay, Julien and Joe are already here and inside. You both hurriedly make your way to the front door, embarrassment setting in as you’re assuming you’re the last ones to show.
“Ah! There they are!” Joe stands up to greet you both and show you where to sit.
The meeting seems informal enough, which eases your anxieties a bit. There’s charcuterie boards laid out across the tables and mimosas placed at every seat.
Joe introduces you to the bands manager, the booking manager and their social media manager. They’re all incredibly kind and friendly, not at all what you were expecting from such a famous band. They each greet you with a hug and a smile that instantly wipes away any remaining worry you still had.
As you take a seat, you can’t help but notice four empty chairs and the obvious absence of the quartet.
Their manager takes notice of your confused expression. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here. They’re notorious for being behind on schedule.”
You all sit around and chat while you wait for the boys. You even get to go over a few of the minor details of the tour, including the dates and cities you’ll be playing.
The schedule seemed a bit rigorous, but you knew it was nothing you all couldn’t handle. You’ll be playing the first fifteen shows on this tour, and the cities were a bit spread out which meant lots of time on the road, which also meant that you all would have to invest in a tour bus very soon.
Right as Joe was beginning to nail down some of the finer details, you hear the loud screech of tires coming to a complete stop from outside and four doors slamming almost simultaneously. You can’t quite make out what’s being said, but you hear plenty of loud exclamations being made as their voices get louder and louder as they approach the front door.
Josh is the first to grace the room, bursting through the door as if he owned the place and causing you to jump a bit.
“Hello, dear friends! It’s wonderful to see you all on this lovely day!”
He makes his way around the table giving everyone in attendance a hug, asking them how they’re doing and throwing in the occasional “you look nice today!”
He finally makes it around the table to you and you stand up, eager to meet him in another hug. 
“And you, y/n, you look very nice today.'' He put a little emphasis on the word ‘very’, even tossing in a wink as he sat down right next to you. You try, but ultimately fail to hide the blush that so graciously creeps on your cheeks almost every time you interact with this man.
Jake has already made it inside, walking around the table to pat everyone on the shoulder. He stops at you and Ivy to give you hugs. He pulls away from you, smiling at you both and dipping his sunglasses downwards to show his eyes.
“Ladies, welcome to hell.” 
“Oh, Jacob. Don’t be so dramatic.” Sam shoves Jake aside to have his turn hugging you and Ivy.
Danny follows shortly after, wrapping you both in giant bear hugs that are almost reminiscent of Juliens’. You start to wonder if it’s a drummer thing.
“So great to see you ladies again!” 
With the boys all here, the meeting is ready to continue. Joe does a lot of the talking for you as none of you really know what you’re doing or how any of this works. Joe’s a bit more seasoned with this sort of thing so you’re more than happy to let him take the reins. 
You’re able to get a few more details in, but you’re having a hard time focusing. Josh is incredibly close to you, so close that you can feel his breath slightly tickle your face. Your senses are filled with his scent of eucalyptus and a little bit of lavender. You glance at him every so often to find him looking at you, smiling every time your eyes meet. 
Jay has taken notice of this and his eyes are practically burning a hole through your soul as he watches the silent flirting taking place.
He’s beginning to get visibly more and more annoyed, and now he’s starting to ask questions that are coming off as more demanding than inquisitive. He’s asking the uncomfortable questions that have to do with payment and whether or not they will help in providing a means of transportation for the tour. Things that, to you, just don’t seem to matter as much at the moment.
He’s humiliating you, Ivy and Julien with his harsh tone, acting as if he believes he’s better than everyone else in the room. You’re starting to really become uncomfortable, eyeing Julien and Joe in an attempt to send the signal that they should step in and stop him.
Julien finally gets the hint and chimes in, grabbing Jay’s shoulder in a bit of a makeshift hug and cutting him off before he can say anything else. 
“Well, I think those things can be worked out later on. As far as I’m concerned, and I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say this, we’re so honored to have been given this amazing opportunity. This is a huge shot for us. We just want to thank you for giving us this chance.” 
You and Ivy agree and share your own notions of gratitude, while Jay’s only response was a dramatic sigh accompanied with a roll of his eyes.
You just so happen to catch that Danny appears less than impressed with Jay, his tongue aggressively gliding on the inside of his cheek as it seems he’s biting back a few choice words.
This tour could get interesting.
♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪
The meeting has finally hit the point of conclusion and it’s time to sign paperwork with the booking agent. Your hands are shaky as it’s your turn to sign your name, being the last one from your team. Josh is watching you with a sweet smirk laying across his lips.
“You’ve got this, y/n. I mean it’s not like you’re signing your entire life away, just most of it.”
The whole room bursts out in laughter at his clever joke, making your nerves disappear as you sign your name.
“It’s official!” Josh shoots up from his chair as soon as you set the pen down. “Cheers, my friends! This will be a wondrous adventure!”
Everyone stands with full smiles and mimosas in hand to join Josh in his celebratory salute to this new beginning. Well, everyone aside from Jay, that is. He’s just mindlessly scrolling on his phone, ignoring the situation entirely.
Danny shoots him a look of pure annoyance but decides to ignore him.
“I think we should celebrate. Bartaco, anyone?” he says as he finishes off the last few drops of his drink. Sammy perks up at the idea.
“That sounds like a great plan, Daniel.” He motions to you, Ivy and Julien, even Jay in his attempt to make sure he feels included despite his asshole behavior.
The three of you happily agree, but of course, Jay has other plans.
“You know, I think I’ll sit this one out. I’d rather spend what little time I have left before this tour starts to get some rehearsing in.” He looks at the three of you with disgust. “I expect you all to be at my house sooner rather than later.”
Why can’t he just be fucking grateful?
He stands up and leaves in an angry rush, leaving you embarrassed once again at his actions. Julien, being the peacekeeper that he is, decided to follow Jay to avoid a complete tantrum from the guitarist.
“I’m sorry, guys. I’ll go with Jay to hold him off a bit. You all have fun.” He made his way around the room offering his hugs and handshakes, thanking the boys and their team once again before walking out the door.
“I’m so sorry about Jay, guys. He’s going through a bit of a rough patch, and-” Ivy quickly cuts your explanation off.
“He’s just a dick. That’s all there is to it. Always has been. You don’t need to make excuses for him, y/n.”.”
Josh grabs your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Who’s ready to eat?”
♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪
You, Ivy and the four rockstar boys all decide to go to Bartaco together, the rest of the crew opting to stay back to work out some more details for the tour.
The six of you walk into the restaurant together and thanks to the status of your dining pals, you were seated almost immediately. The boys frequent this place often and the staff always makes special accommodations for them.
You all take your seats, Josh choosing to sit directly across from you next to his twin who’s sitting across from Ivy, and Sam is seated next to you opposite of Danny.
You all take turns ordering food and drinks, and you’re so impressed with how kind and respectful the guys are to the wait staff. All the famous people you’ve met before were entirely too entitled and too full of themselves to treat anyone with any sort of dignity. Not these guys, though. They’re so down to earth, so humble, so genuine.
You all talk amongst each other while you wait for your meals. Ivy and Jake have sparked quite the debate over gibson guitars while Sam and Danny are off in their own world with their conversation, leaving you and Josh space to talk.
“Well, y/n, how are you feeling about it all? With the tour and such?” He gives you a soft smile.
“I…I mean I seriously couldn’t be more excited. This is just…I can’t quite articulate. It just means the world, it really does.”
“Well I for one am thrilled to have you all along with us. I think this will be really great.”
“Can I ask you something, Josh?”
“Yeah, of course!”
“Of all the acts, all the bands you could’ve chosen, why us? We’re not anything special. We’re not very well known, we’ve never even been on an actual tour before. So, I guess I’m just curious. What made you choose us?”
Josh reaches across the table and grabs your hand, rubbing the top of it gently with his thumb.
“There’s something really special here, y/n. I’ve only watched you perform once, but I was utterly blown away. The musicianship is astounding. The lyrics are poetic. You have so much emotion when you’re on that stage. Your audience feels it with you, I feel it with you. It’s truly a beautiful thing. You don’t see it often. We just knew we had to be a part of it.”
His fingers are now intertwined with yours as he stares directly into your eyes, which are beginning to well up with heavy tears at his beautiful words. You instantly feel an overwhelming sense of peace, of comfort. It’s as if you’re the only two in the room. Maybe even the whole world.
“And don’t worry. I’ll be sure to show you the ropes of life on the road. You’ll love it, I just know it.” He gives you a wink while continuing to caress your hand. 
Just as you’re about to respond, the waiter makes it over to your table with the food. Your trance is broken by the interruption; you’ve suddenly been flung back into the real world.
Ivy looks at you and notices the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 
“Is everything okay?” She asks quietly so as to not draw attention.
“Yeah, everythings pretty damn great.”
You all enjoy your meals, continuing to talk and laugh together as if you’ve been lifelong friends. You’re quickly finding that their energy matches yours and Ivys’ perfectly. You haven’t felt this contented in a very, very long time.
After sitting in the restaurant for a few hours, you all decide it’s time to head out. They all walk you and Ivy to her car, saying their goodbyes and ‘see you laters’ one by one.
As you’re about to open the door on the passenger's side of Ivys’ car, Josh quickly stops you and takes over so he can open the door for you.
“Well thank you, kind sir.”
“Pleasure is mine, m’ lady.”
You take a seat and Josh gently closes the door for you. He starts to walk away, still looking at you and waving goodbye.
Just before Ivy takes off, you’re startled by a knock on your window. It’s Josh again, and he’s motioning for you to roll your window down.
“Did you forget something?”
“Yeah, actually.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. “You should probably put your number in there, ya know, just in case something were to come up with the tour planning and what not.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course! I bet it’s important to have each other's contact information, just to be safe.”
You type in the digits of your number, saving your contact in his phone. You hand it back to him and he immediately presses the ‘call’ button and your phone starts ringing.
You look at him with an amused smile.
“Just had to make sure you didn’t give me a fake number.”
He waves another goodbye as you two drive away.
“Yeah, he’s into you.”
“There’s no way, Ivy. Look at him. He could have any girl he wanted.”
“Yep. And he wants you, dumby.”
♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪
You and Ivy spent the rest of the day at Jay’s house. He wanted to practice, so that’s exactly what you did. He carried one with his pissy attitude but you still felt it was a successful practice.
You were finally home, exhausted after the long day. It’s nearly 1:00 in the morning and your body is worn out from all of the late nights you’ve had recently. You decide to take a long bath to relax before bed. You poured yourself a glass of wine, lit your candles, and placed your lavender epsom salt in the water. You hunkered down in the tub, ready to melt the day away.
Just as you could feel yourself starting to drift to sleep, you hear your phone vibrate.
Who the hell is texting me this late? 
You reach to grab your phone sitting on the side of the tub and unlock it, surprised when you see who the message is from. 
Josh: I just wanted to apologize for being so mushy earlier at the restaurant. I hope I didn’t frighten you. I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and I’m a bit of an oversharer, lol. Regardless, I truly meant everything that I said.
You feel your heart skip a beat in your chest. You’ve been a fan of this man for so long, just met him less than 48 hours ago, and now he’s texting you? 
You: You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for! Your words meant more to me than I can explain. Especially coming from you. 
Josh: How come you're still awake? I honestly didn’t expect a response until tomorrow morning. I don’t having anything else prepared haha
You: We had to go to Jay’s for practice and it took forever. I just got home about 30 minutes ago. But I should be asking you the same thing! Or is this just the normal rockstar schedule?
Josh: I like to stay up late. It’s usually the best time for me, creatively speaking. Something about it inspires me endlessly. 
Josh: How did your practice go? And why does it seem that Jay is perpetually pissed?
You: It went about as well as I could’ve hoped, I guess. And that’s a bit of a long story. Got all night? lol
Josh: Well, I do, actually. Care to join me for some wine and story time?
You: That rhymed perfectly. I would love to join you.
Josh: My place in 20?
You: Sounds great! 
You nearly leap out of the tub to get ready to leave. You want to put on something cute but keep it simple and comfortable, so you go for a pair of biker shorts and a cropped tank top. You don’t bother with makeup of any kind, but you make sure your hair looks nice.
You’re heading to your car when Josh sends you his address with a ‘see you soon’ attached to the message.
Putting his address in your maps app, you realize he only lives about 10 minutes away from you. He’s been this close to you this whole time. How is it that you’ve never run into each other before now? 
You make it to his home that’s surrounded by acres of land and beautiful trees. There’s a long driveway leading up to the house, heightening your anticipation as you slowly drive it.
You’ve finally made it to the front of the house. You hesitate a bit before stepping out of the car, your nerves are starting to get the best of you. You shove them down and get out of the car to head up to the front door. Right as you're about to ring the doorbell, the door flies open, startling you a bit.
“Hey, y/n! Come on in!”
“How did you know I was already here?”
He points up to the frame of the front door.
“Security cameras. Kind of a necessity. You’ll probably want to invest in them soon.”
He leads you inside. His place is breathtaking. It smells wonderful, like fresh patchouli. The decor is very minimalist with a touch of mid century modern. Large, flush plants grace every corner.
“Oh my, Josh. This is beautiful.”
“Well thank you, my dear. Would you like a tour?”
“Please!”
He walks you around, showing you everything, explaining every single detail. Everything is intentional. Each part of his home has a story, and you love hearing him tell you all about it.
“I designed most everything myself. I knew exactly what I wanted and I found the perfect architects to help me bring my vision to fruition.”
“Josh, this is amazing. I love it. There’s such a calming aura about it.”
“Oh I’m so glad you said that! That’s exactly what I was going for. I’m happy you can feel it, too. I needed a place of serenity and peace to come home to. My life can get a bit hectic sometimes.”
He resumes the tour to the backyard where you are entirely stopped in your tracks at the set up. 
There’s a large pergola with billowing curtains draped at each opening and tons of hanging string lights cascading throughout the structure. Inside, there’s a small couch covered with a white, chunky knit blanket and throw pillows with intricate colorful patterns. Large rugs cover the ground with a few bigger pillows for extra seating. There’s also a lovely accent table in the middle of the space with gold features and a wine bottle with two glasses placed on top of it.
“Holy shit, Josh…this is, I…I’m not even sure what to say. This is stunning.”
“Is this a good enough spot for our wine and story time?”
“Are you kidding? This is perfect.”
He grabs your hand and leads you to the couch where you take a seat. 
“I hope you like Chardonnay.” He begins pouring your glass. “This is a bottle of Domaine Ramonet Montrachet Grand Cru, straight from the Montrachet vineyard in France.” He swirls the drink a bit in the glass before handing it to you. “You’ll notice notes of lemon and citrus. It’s quite delicious.”
You take a sip and are immediately blown away.
“This is amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything quite like this. Was this expensive?”
“Ah, don’t worry about that.”
He pours himself a glass and sits next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he sits close.
“Josh tell me! How much does wine like this go for?”
“It’s not as much as you’d think. A measly $1200 a bottle. That’s all.”
You gasp, nearly spitting out the sip you just took.
“What do you mean that’s all? That’s more than my rent! Utilities included!” He laughs the hardest you’ve ever seen him laugh thus far, grabbing your knee to stabilize himself.
“Okay, so while you drink your rent WITH utilities included, catch me up to speed on your pissy guitarist. What’s the story with him?”
“Well, I guess I should begin with the fact that we dated for a spell.”
“What? You dated that guy?”
“Yeah. Not my most shining moment. Can’t say I’m proud of it.”
“So what happened? How come you broke up?”
“He cheated on me. A lot. With lots of different girls. And he’s also just a huge jerk, as you’ve witnessed.”
“Wait…he cheated on you? What the fuck, y/n. I can’t fathom that. He should’ve counted his lucky stars for landing you.”
Your cheeks blush at the compliment and you take another large drink of your wine as Josh grabs the bottle to top off your glass.
“Yeah, he cheated. And shockingly, I didn’t break up with him right away. That’s why it kept happening. I thought I had to stay with him for the sake of the band.”
“How did you guys even meet?”
“When Ivy and I moved here, we had one goal in mind- to play music. But we didn’t know anyone. We had no idea where to even start. I met Jay when I was looking for apartments. He was working at the complex that I eventually moved into. I don’t know how, but we just clicked in the beginning. And it helped that he had the same passion for making music. We decided to start making music together, along with Ivy. Julien came out of the woodwork one day, and thus, Lilac Moon was born. Jay and I started seeing each other somewhere during that time. I fell in love with his drive for music, with his talent. He was even teaching me to play guitar. I just didn’t see the red flags in the beginning, or maybe I just ignored them. Ivy and Julien saw right through him, though. I didn’t listen to their warnings. I wish I would have. But now, we’re stuck with him. As much as I can’t stand the man, he’s a damn good musician. I don’t think we’d have a band without him.”
He doesn’t respond right away, his eyes locked on yours as he’s taking in everything you're saying.
“I’m sorry. I told you it was a long one.”
“No, no. I’m glad you told me. I’m so sorry he did that to you. You know you deserve better, right? You deserve the best this world has to offer.”
His hand is now embracing yours with a firm hold.
“Well, thank you, Josh. But you barely know me. How do you know I’m not some crazy, pathological liar?”
“I know I’ve just met you, but your soul radiates a kind of genuinity that you only find every so often. It’s rare. You’re rare. From the moment I met you when you crashed into me, my spirit felt a warmness from you that I don’t feel with many people. You know, I told Sam I knew that wouldn’t be the last time I’d see you. And I was right. The universe is mysterious that way.”
Here come those tears again that you shed more than you’d care to admit. You’re emotional, sometimes to a fault, but his words are caressing your heart in a way you’ve never experienced before.
“Don’t doubt yourself. Don’t doubt your effect on people. You’re lovely, y/n.”
“You know, you really have a way with words, Josh. You’re one of the most beautiful souls I’ve ever encountered. I’ve wanted to meet you for years, literal years. I’ve always been enamored by you. I’m so grateful our paths crossed, even in the embarrassing way it happened.”
You both laugh at the memory of you running into the back of him on the streets of downtown Nashville.
“I actually think that’s the perfect way to meet someone. I will never forget it, that’s for sure.”
His grip on your hand hasn’t let up one bit. In fact, you’re now holding on just as tightly. You’re almost afraid to let go, afraid this moment will end if you do.
“Tell me a little more about you, y/n. Tell me about where you're from, about your family, where your love for music comes from. What makes you who you are?”
“Oh gosh. That’s another long story.”
“The night is still young, there’s still plenty of wine, I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”
You smile wildly at him and his devotion to hearing your story.
“It’s 2:30 in the morning, Josh.”
“Exactly! We’re still in the wee hours of the evening.” He shifts his body to face you completely now, helping to maneuver your legs to intertwine with his. This feels so intimate considering you’ve only just met, but it feels absolutely right. “Tell me everything.”
“Well, I guess my love for music started with my dad. He introduced me to music at a really young age. He bought me my first record when I was five years old, Tom Petty’s Wildflowers. It’s still one of my favorites. My love for music really took off from there. I mean, I hardly remember a time in my house that there wasn’t music playing. My dad had this old record player that he’d had since he was a kid in the 70’s that still worked perfectly even after all those years of constant use. We’d sit at that thing for hours on end just listening to albums all the way through, hearing the stories the artists were telling. George Harrison's All Things Must Pass was one of his absolute favorites, and Gather In The Rain by Melanie. He loved everything that Sam Cooke recorded. So many albums and artists that hold so much sentimentality to me. He always told me he knew I’d make music my career, with as much passion as I had for it. He always encouraged me to chase my dreams.
When he died, my mom got rid of everything. The record player that he loved so much, every single album in his giant collection…she just sold all of it. It didn’t matter to her. In fact, she hated that we shared that bond. She never understood it. I wanted to keep that part of him alive, alive in me. To not chase after my dreams would feel like losing him all over again. I’ve never had the same support from my mom. Ever. But I didn’t let that stop me. I decided that moving and going after what I loved is exactly what he would’ve wanted me to do. So, I did it. And I did it with my best friend so the two of us could live out our dreams of making music together. The rest is history, I guess.”
Josh’s hand was moving up and down your shin to offer you some comfort, and his eyes appear more glassy as it seems your story has truly moved him nearly to tears.
“Shit. Now I’m the oversharer. I’m sorry, I told you it was a lot.”
“Y/n. Thank you. Thank you so much for trusting me enough to share that part of yourself with me. I’m…I’m honored. I’m touched, really. I know he’s proud of you. You’re doing just what he wanted you to do. Love doesn’t leave, you know. Love lives on. His love lives on in you.”
You’re the most vulnerable you think you’ve ever been. You’ve hardly talked about this with anyone, Ivy being the only person in your life that knows everything. You don’t like to talk about yourself very often, but Josh has made you feel so comforted, you feel so heard. You can’t remember a time that you’ve felt this much validation from anyone. This feels good; this feels like home.
You try so hard to stop it, but tears begin streaming down your face in an instant. Josh places his hand on your cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb.
“You’re beautiful, y/n.”
“Thank you, Josh.”
Your faces have become so close that your noses are touching, his hand still cupping your face. It feels like silk brushing against your cheek, and he smells like that familiar eucalyptus and lavender scent you noted earlier. That aroma has infiltrated your senses. It’s your favorite.
It feels like time stands still for a moment. All you see, all you feel, all you hear…it’s only Josh.
“Y/n, I want to kiss you.”
His voice is but the sweetest whisper.
“Do it, then.”
At last, your lips meet his. The kiss is soft at first, you both wanting to take the time to savor each other. It slowly grows in intensity and passion. You move to wrap your arms around the back of his neck to bring him even closer to you, with both of his hands now gently cupping your face. His lips are so warm. They feel like crushed velvet against yours. You taste the sweet lemon and citrus from the wine on his tongue, and you realize that the chardonnay alone pales in comparison to the taste of him mixed with it.
You reluctantly break the kiss, only to catch your breath. Your eyes are instantly locked on his, taking in the beautiful amber hue.
“Can I stay with you for a little while? I know it’s late but,-”
“You can stay with me for as long as you like, y/n.”
With that, Josh lays back on the couch, bringing you down to rest your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you. Your eyes become heavy as you feel yourself drift to sleep in the safety of his embrace. 
To be continued…
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Chapter 3
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hazywrites · 11 months
Text
Bucky I'm In Love With My Best Friend
Chapters 1 & 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You are hopelessly in love with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, and it's clear he feels something for you, too. So between stolen kisses and hookups, drunken calls and flirty banter, why can't you talk about it? What even is "it"?
Warnings: Nothing so far, maybe slight angst?
Words: 1,648
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48220744
Chapter 3
AN: Hi, my lovelies! Although Bucky is my comfort character and my fav of all time, this is actually my first time writing for him! To be completely honest, this is totally self-gratifying and based heavily on my current romantic situation, but I do hope you all like it. This is just the beginning of this fic, and of course, I promise it will have a happy, resolved ending! For now, it is more of a best-friends-to-lovers situationship drabble. I would love to hear from you guys and I hope to receive some comments and feedback so I can know how you all liked the story. As always, thank you so much for reading. I love you all! Muah! <3 :D
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Chapter 1
Your hair fell over your face, beads of sweat forming at the back of your neck. A stranger shot you a smile as you moved your hips to the pumping beat. You smiled back. You turned your attention away from him just as it looked like he might approach you, leaning over to your friends instead. “I’m going to get another drink!” You shouted over the pounding music. Wanda waved you off with a smile as she watched Nat spin Pietro around and around in a fit of giggles.
You stumbled slightly as you made your way through the crowd, all packed tightly and dancing close, to the dimly lit bar, and leaned against it as you waited for the redheaded bartender to turn around. You tugged the hem of your tight little black dress down a little. It wasn’t a self-conscious motion. Truthfully, you felt beautiful tonight, all eyes on you. It was just habit. You weren’t usually this girl. You’d normally stay home for a quiet night in. But you’d be damned if you waited by your phone for a drunken phone call from him. If he was out with friends, you would be, too. And you’d have a damn good time.
Dizzying lights danced in your periphery as you took a moment to collect yourself, when suddenly you felt your phone buzzing in your bag. Whipping it out embarrassingly quickly, you asked the bartender for a couple of white tea shots before sliding your thumb across your screen, the video call opening to reveal a grinning Bucky.
He was walking outside from what you could tell, Steve and Sam at his sides and Thor and Bruce probably trailing behind. The wide grin on his face told you he was even drunker than you were, and he was still looking ahead of him as he walked.
“Where are you?!” He shouted. You stepped away from the bar closer to the door to hear him better, and held the phone up to show yourself and the scene behind you.
“Aces, with Nat and the Maximoffs,” you said loudly. He finally looked down, his blue eyes blown out as his jaw dropped.
“What the hell are you doing looking that good?” He asked. You heard the boys laughing and teasing him in the background, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“Uh, dancing?” You said, but you couldn’t help the way your lips quirked into a smile at the compliment.
“The hell, with who?”
“I just told you—”
“I’m coming,” He announced. Your heart started to race as you imagined Bucky joining you guys. Seeing your little black dress in person. Dancing on you. Pinning you against a wall, kissing you…
“Y/N,” You were startled to notice it was Steve holding the phone now, looking down at you all broad shoulders and gallant smile. “Bucky is hammered. I’m going to take him home.”
“Oh, okay, should I come help you take care of him?” You couldn’t help the pang of disappointment in your chest at his words. Steve gave you a knowing smile.
“That’s alright, Y/N, he just needs to sleep it off. You enjoy your night.”
“Are you fucking done?” You heard Bucky’s voice pipe up as he snatched the phone back from Steve. “Sorry, Y/N, Steve is annoying and he wants to hog you all to himself.” He shot his best friend a glare who just gave him an amused but apologetic smile. You admired the lines of his sharp jaw, the way his brown hair was tucked behind his ears, and the way his eyebrows pushed together oh-so-seriously as he stepped away from his friends, the city lights blurring above him with each movement. “Sorry, I wanted you all to myself for a minute,” he said, flashing you a dazzling smile. You felt yourself getting lightheaded at the compliment and smiled at him shyly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful,” he proclaimed. “Should’ve told me you wanted to go out, angel. I would’ve taken you out on the town. Would’ve taken you back to my place.” He was so drunk. “So right now?” He asked with a smirk.
“Right now,” you agreed jokingly.
“I wish—” he started, but was interrupted by Thor yelling something to him in the background. “I gotta go, doll. Call you tonight?” You nodded, and when the call hung up you felt suddenly too sad to dance anymore. You gave your shots to Wanda, deciding the others had had enough to drink.
“You sure you’re okay?” Wanda asked, concern lacing her blue-green eyes. You gave her an unconvincing smile.
“Yeah, I just think I’m all danced out for the night. I’m gonna sleep.” She gave you a knowing look but hugged you goodbye.
“I’ll see you later then,” she said.
“See you later,” you repeated, trying to sound cheerful. “Have fun, you guys!”
Bucky didn’t call you. He probably fell asleep as soon as he got home. Your head spun from the liquor and his drunken smile all night.
Chapter 2
“The Covenant clears,” Bucky declared. He was using his annoying matter-of-fact tone and you felt the urge to knock him down a few pegs. It seemed unlikely, though. Even if he were objectively wrong in every way, Bucky seemed to win every single argument you got into. You suspected it had something to do with your mega crush on him. The way he looked at you had a way of making you swallow your words just as they were about to come out.
“The Empire would win based off sheer size alone,” you argued. “They literally rule most of the galaxy. The Covenant barely has enough manpower to control part of Orion’s arm.”
“Manpower?” Bucky scoffed. “You mean Stormtroopers? They couldn’t hit water if they fell out of a boat.”
“And the Grunts and Jackals are any better? They’re meant to be expendable, the only difference is the Covenant has less of them.”
“The only difference is the Covenant has Brutes and Elites to do the real fighting.”
“And they’ll wipe each other out the way they fight. Your whole army has no unity. You know what the Empire has? The Death Star.”
“Oh, I’m real scared of your floating space rock,” Bucky quipped.
“You should be!” You exclaimed. “Between that and the Star Destroyers—“
“You shouldn’t have brought up technology at all because Covenant would smoke the Empire. That’s all antiquated 70s bullshit. They have the Forerunner Keyship and plasma weaponry.”
“The Empire has hyperdrive,” you deadpanned. “And that’s so much better than slip space.” Bucky let out a disbelieving gasp.
“Eat your fucking words—”
“Hey, are y’all about fucking DONE?” You heard Sam’s voice boom from behind you. You started. You were so absorbed in the argument that you forgot you were in Bucky’s shared apartment with all of his roommates. You turned sheepishly to Sam, who was cradling a bowl of popcorn in one arm and holding the remote in his other hand. His face was less than amused. “Can y’all take the argument to Bucky’s room, ‘cuz I’m trying to watch Monday Night Raw.”
“I was invested,” Thor added earnestly from where he was perched on a kitchen stool.
“Sorry, guys,” you started, but Bucky simply scoffed and grabbed your wrist, dragging you to his room.
“Don’t apologize to Sam. He’ll die if he hears about an interest that isn’t WWE or 2K.”
“I heard that!” Sam shouted back from the living room.
“And his taste in music sucks,” Bucky added, more loudly.
You giggled as he closed the door behind you, flopping back onto his bed, your head hitting his pillow as you stared at the posters on his wall. Classic movies and modern rappers. Sports teams he’d been a fan of his whole life. Sports teams he’d just gotten into. Superheroes and video games. It was like a mosaic of his entire personality in one room. And it smelled like him. It was your favorite place to be. He always kept his room clean despite being a male college student, which you liked. Well, to be fair, you liked everything about him, even the things you didn’t like, like how stingy he was and how he couldn’t take a compliment for shit. Those things made him, him, and they just made him grow on you more.
“What’s up?” He asked, sitting next to you. You felt the mattress dip but didn’t look over at him yet.
“Just thinking about your room.”
“What about it?” I like being surrounded by this much of you, you wanted to say. I like that you have a pair of my earrings and my scrunchie that I left over here in your bedside drawer and I never asked for them back because it makes me happy that you’d want to keep them. I like wearing your hoodies when I come over and get cold. I like when we make love and your sheets smell like my perfume and I wonder if it makes you a little happy to smell it after I leave.
“It’s clean,” you settled on saying. He hummed in response.
Your heartbeat quickened as he laid next to you, and you curled into his side instinctively, your head nestled on his chest. It took him a second but he let his arm fall around you, his fingers dancing around your waist as he stroked it slightly. You held your breath so the tiny display of affection wouldn’t disappear as fast as it came. You knew you couldn’t do anything, not during the day with all his roommates home. They’d tear him to pieces about it later. So instead you let your eyes flutter shut and listened to his heartbeat as you pretended to fall asleep. This way, he wouldn’t worry about you reading too much into it. But you were. You always did.
144 notes · View notes
allandoflimbo · 2 years
Text
I C E     P R I N C E S S  ∙ 2
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Pairings: Popular Girl!Reader x Outkast!Bucky
Explicit Content - Smut - NO MINORS
w.c: 3,750 
Summary: 
Bucky Barnes is the quiet boy who gets picked on.
The Reader and her friends run with the popular crowd at Stark High.
As the Winter Ball approaches, she is partnered with Bucky Barnes for a class project. They grow close in an inadvertently secret friendship, which later turns into love.
Only catch is…she’s Steve Roger’s ex girlfriend, and before she was partnered up with Bucky, her friends had planned to use and turn Bucky into Stark High’s new it boy to try and get back at Steve; a disgusting bet. 
Another catch: She’s a figure skater at the town’s arena every Tuesday and Thursday nights. Bucky works part time at the rink resurfacing the ice. The other doesn’t know.
Modern AU High School fic - later goes into adulthood.
M A S T E R P A G E - FULL SERIES
Warnings: This story will have a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lot of cursing, and a lot of sex. Oral, praise kink, body worship, overstimulation, etc. you know me. There will also be loss of virginity in this.
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P R E V I O U S   C H A P T E R
Coming out of your slumber, you lift your head and quickly feel a sharp sting in your neck. 
Cringing, you bring your hand up to where the pain is and groan. 
Not again.
You knew the pain wasn’t due to your skating. The exertion on your body from the skating wasn’t anything you weren’t already accustomed to. 
You knew what this pain was, you just hadn’t felt it in a while. 
Your finger lingers on the scar on the side of your neck - painful flash backs engulfing you - for a small second longer before you returned back to the present again.
Your alarm was blaring non-stop.
You rubbed the back of your neck and reached for your phone under your second pillow on the side. Hidden in the whites of the blankets, you found your cell and you quickly turned off the alarm, the sound becoming nauseatingly annoying. 
With a heavy sigh, you toss it aside, and swing your legs over the side of your bed.
Today was going to be a slow day and you were thankful for that. The last few months were a bit hard on you and your family, and it felt like a constant whirlwind. 
Sharon and Carol helped you through everything as much as they could. 
You had been friends with them since third grade and you grew up together. But during your Sophomore year, you realized you and your friends were beginning to grow some differences. 
Sharon and Carol still treated school like it was their royal ground, like it was all life had to offer. In middle school and freshman year, you thought it was fun. 
You knew you and your friends were popular, but you were never mean. You were always kind to your classmates. You were reserved, and unfortunately, a little bit of a push over, but it was something you were working on. Sharon and Carol were a little more ditzy than you were, but they had been sweet and they still are at times. 
They were a huge help the last few months, especially. 
But, what turned your reputations from approachable to intimidating was the arrival of Matt Murdock. 
Something changed in your group when he arrived Freshman year. Steve had tried to tell you at first, but you had tried giving Matt the benefit of the doubt, because that’s who you were.
But then you started noticing his influences on your friends, especially the girls. They became mean. You obviously were against it, but you had known them for seven years when the changed happened, and now you’ve known them for ten years. You grew up together and they never abandoned you.
The other girls at school now were intimidated by you and you hated it because you weren’t like that. 
You attempted to speak to Carol and Sharon many times about it, you even considered leaving them behind, but it was the friendship between them, you, and your now passed brother that made you feel guilty.
You slowly approached your vanity and looked at yourself in the mirror.
You looked tired and a little unwell. Under your eyes were dark and your hair was in disarray. You also wore a heavy frown. 
This was your reality. 
Not the fake smile you showed at school.
You ran two hands down your face and then reached over to grab a hair tie out of your little glass container. Tying your hair up, you look down at your still open notebook from the night before. You had a few college options you had been considering. 
One of them being Brown, your brother’s school. 
You weren’t sure you what you were going to major in, your whole life being primarily focused on your parent’s dream for you: an olympic figure skater.
They don’t know that you wanted to have other plans for yourself. That ever since the accident six months ago, everything changed.
You still loved skating, and you would continue to do it, but you wanted to have something else you would also do because the passion to be an olympic winner was no longer there. It scared you too much.
The ice scared you.
You let out a shaky sigh and closed your eyes. 
You’d have a good day at school today, focus on your classes, go skate a bit, and then come back home with yesterday’s rose.
You’d have a good day at school today, focus on your classes, go skate a bit, and then come back home safely with yesterday’s rose.
It doesn’t take you that long to brush your teeth, hair, pack your backpack, and get downstairs.
Already sitting quietly at the kitchen table was your parents. 
The family happiness after your wins were short lived and rare moments in the house now. 
This was your reality.
You quietly sit down and pour yourself some cereal and milk. 
You look over to your mother who had blood shut eyes. Your father was looking down at his phone, probably reading the electronic paper on The New York Times app.
They never said good morning to you right away anymore.
At least, not until they noticed you were even there.
Like clock work, you clear your throat. Your mom sniffs and your dad shifts in his chair.
You swish your spoon around in your lucky charms.
“How’d you sleep, sweetie?” Your dad finally says, putting down his phone.
“Fine.”
“Did you do your homework last night after we got back?”
“I did it before, actually. I didn’t have much. I’ve been using study hall a lot.” You say before taking a spoon of cereal.
Your dad just nods. You finish the rest of your cereal.
You look over to your mom who still hasn’t spoken to you. 
She hardly ever did anymore, but you didn’t disliker her for it. She had every right to be upset and still mourn the loss of a son.
You slowly take your bowl to the sink and on your way back give your dad a hug from behind. He gives your arm a firm squeeze.
You do the same to your mother, and your place a kiss on the top of her head.
“I’ll see you guys after school, okay?”
“Okay, sweetie. Call if anything.” Your dad says.
“I will.”
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You pull up to your usual spot in the seniors parking lot. You put your lifted JK silver wrangler in park and then let out a long breath from between your lips. 
Still leaving your car on, you unbuckle your seat belt and reach over the passenger seat for your cell phone. 
You never hold it or have it near you while you are driving. 
You unlock it and start skimming for your parent’s group chat to let them know you’ve made it safely.
A soft and rhythmic knock from your window startles you.
You follow it and there’s a pretty set of blue/green eyes staring at you.
Your heart hurts for a moment as your sad eyes drop. You put your phone back in your backpack, grabbing it sharply by the strap. 
Turning off your car and taking out the key, you already dread the next few minutes.
“Here, let me help you. Be careful.” Steve mumbles as he takes your hand. You suddenly look down and see why he’s helping you. The whole left side of your car is parked over a slab of ice. 
“Thank you.” You whisper, now finding yourself holding him back for dear life.
He helps guide you safely a few feet until you’re both on clear pavement, still in front of your car.
He looks at you for a second before looking away shyly. You look away too, feeling awkward all of a sudden.
“I know we promised we would talk this weekend but I really just wanted to clear some things first.” He says slowly, finally letting go of your arm.
You sigh, looking down at your feet. You weren’t ready for this when you woke up this morning.
You and Steve were destined to be high school sweethearts, or so you thought up until about a year ago when you started drifting apart. 
You were close the last year of middle school, and then finally starting dating your freshman year. You were a couple until two weeks ago when you caught him kissing Peggy. You were hurt, but you saw it coming. The beginning of Junior year you were still close, but things were changing. You wanted different things. And then after your brother’s accident, you changed even more, and so did your relationship with everyone. You had simply started to drift apart.
“Steve…” you start.
“I love you, you know I do,” he cuts you off, “I’ve loved you since we were kids, and I still love you now,” he says slowly and carefully, “And I’m not here to say, take me back, but I owe you an explanation. What I did was terrible, and I know that.”
Your heart breaks again and you tilt your head to the side.
“Then why’d you do it? There’s a reason you did it. We both know there is.”
Steve looks at you for a second longer before dropping his eyes again. 
“Peggy just — it didn’t happen like how you think. I was never cheating on you. But we were friends. But in that one moment, I just and you happen to see it, in that one moment and I just—” he runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know. But Y/N —” You know the face you’re giving him is pained, as if you were in pain for him for trying so hard to formulate into words that he ended up catching feelings for another girl. You were in pain for him because Steve was not a bad guy. Aside from you two dating, he was also always your best friend.
“Steve, you don’t have to —”
“—I still want us to be prom king and queen. I still want us to do this journey together, even if maybe you don’t forgive me. And, trust me, I know I don’t deserve it in the slightest, but I want to at least do this with you. Come with me to the winter ball and to prom. At least as my best friend. I messed it up, I know I did, but let me make this right.”
You were at lost for words at his preposition. You searched his eyes for something to help you respond but you couldn’t tell what to say. You did a lot of growing up the last six months and one of the many things your brain was telling you, that wouldn’t have told you at the time, was don’t do it.
You look over his shoulder before looking back up into his pretty eyes.
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
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You had managed to make some of the day without seeing your friends. You kept your head low, managing to say unseen. You didn’t have the energy today. 
It was just one of those days. 
It was only fifth period, AP Psychology, and you were already ready to make some kind of excuse about a stomach bug to go home early, but you knew you shouldn’t. You only had one month to start your application process for college.
You tried your best to hear Mrs. Ortiz answering a student’s question over the class discussion chatter, which coincidentally was the same question you had swarming in your head so you really wanted to hear it, when the class door opens.
Some of the chattering quiets down, but some still continue on. You watch intently as Mrs. Ortiz smiles at the student that walks in. Another teacher from a class you never took, stands behind him.
It was blue eyes.
He wore a black hoodie and a bright smile that made the sides of eyes crinkle as his nose scrunched with a chuckle. 
You couldn’t hear what they were saying and at one point you looked away, trying not to seem like you were eavesdropping. 
You return to your worksheet and you skip over the question you are having trouble with. 
“Well, I’m glad you decided to take AP Psych, James. Thank you, Mr. Rockwell. I’ll get him started right away.”
James.
You looked up occasionally from your work as your teacher found him a seat near the front. He looked a bit awkward as he put his backpack next his desk and sat down. Mrs. Ortiz stands next to him for a few minutes explaining assignments for the day. 
When she leaves, he gets straight to work.
You kept feeling a nag, telling you to go up to him and apologize for what Matt did. You wanted to explain to him that Matt is a piece of shit and that he didn’t represent you or your friends, but you didn’t want to cause a scene. You would apologize, but not in front of a classroom. You knew the correct thing would be for Matt to apologize, but the jerk would never do that. 
What Sharon and Carol did was out of line, too.
You would speak to him and apologize.
When the bell rings you quickly make a dash towards his desk. But you’re too excited to do this. You’re so on your toes that you don’t notice your teacher coming down his isle with a small tray of oil paints and you accidentally hit it off her hand with your bag, making fly across the isle, landing directly on…James’ white sneakers.
Gasps and whispers echo around the room.
“Oooooh” “Ouch” “oh my god”
“Oh, dude. Not your air force ones.” Some guy says.
James stands there looking at his now rainbow colored shoes in disbelief. Slowly, his gaze lifts, looking straight and directly at you. 
You’re gaping, clearly at shock and feeling terrible for what just happened; for what you just did. Mrs. Ortiz is already freaking out, putting the tray down and in search of some paper towels.
The way James looks at you sends a shiver down your back. He was clearly upset with you. Clearly.
You don’t blame him, he had every right, and after what happened yesterday you could only imagine what he thought.
He thought it was on purpose. 
The whispering continues.
Some people chuckle and his cheeks turn a soft shade of red, gaze dropping again. He bends down to clean himself off and the floor around him once the teacher hands him the paper towels.
“Let me help.” You say timidly, stretching your arm out to your teacher for another piece of paper.
“We’re alright here, Miss. Y/L/N. Go to your next class.” Mrs. Ortiz says kindly, giving you a genuine smile over her shoulder.
You look back down at James again, feeling the worst you’ve felt in a long time.
“I really didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t say anything back.
“You’re going to be late.” Mrs. Ortiz responds, more firm this time.
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Ninth period. You only had one more to go before you could leave. 
You had almost made it without seeing anyone today. 
Almost.
“I heard you dropped paint on the new guy today.” You hear Carol’s voice from behind your open locker. “I’m shocked. I’m not even going to lie.” Matt.
You inwardly groan as you grab your last book for the day and then close your locker shut.
“It wasn’t on purpose. I was actually going up to him to apologize for what you guys said about him yesterday. But I accidentally made it, clearly, a lot worst.” Carol gives you a funny look and Matt stares you like you’ve got two heads.
“Oh, I see what this is.” Matt says slowly.
“It’s exactly what it sounds look. Apologize to him and leave him alone. He’s just a guy.” You say.
“Just a guy.” Matt says back. A mischievous look appears on his face and he meets eyes with Carol.
“What?” She asks.
“Want to do a bet?” He asks.
“A bet?” Carol asks, intrigued.
He nods. He looks back at you and smirks.
God, you hate him.
“Since Bunny here thinks euro boy is worth saving, I bet we can make that nerd the new it-boy of Stark High. Screw Steve Rogers.” Matt never liked Steve and that was news to nobody including you.
You hated Matt. Why did Carol and Sharon even like him?
With no hesitation, you refuse.
“What? I want no part of this. I’m not making any stupid bet. Especially one that uses some innocent guy that way. I’m not doing that.” You responded.
“Shut up Bunny, this isn’t about you.” Matt dismisses you quickly. You’re insulted and repulsed.
“I don’t understand. What are you getting out of this?” Carol asks Matt.
“If we can do it, I’ll stop being a total ass, maybe I’ll even rent the cabin out in the spring for us. and if we can’t,” he looks at Carol, “you go out with me.”
You couldn’t help that absurd look that comes across your face.
“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”
“Alright, it’s a deal.” Matt says, nodding his head.
“Go screw yourself, Murdock.” You mumble, walking away and going to your last class of the day.
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Bucky was home and he was pissed as he scrubbed his sneakers with a cleaning toothbrush underneath his bathroom sink. 
He never had a break when it came to those people. This week already started on a bad foot, and now this. His white air force ones, ruined.
He scrubbed as hard as he could to get the residue off, but it was too badly stained. Especially the deep reds and black paint. He didn’t know why he kept trying. It had been twenty minutes and there had been no change.
The worst part of the whole thing that happened was your half assed apology. As if what you had done wasn’t on purpose. For a second there, he almost believed you. Almost.
“Hey, buddy,” Bucky’s dad said cheerfully from the bathroom door as he looked in. His eyes went to his son’s hands scrubbing away at his shoe, “Oh no. What happened?”
Bucky sighed.
“An accident at school. Someone dropped paint and it accidentally fell on me.” 
They couldn’t know the truth. It would break their hearts.
“I’m sorry. And right on the sneakers, too?” “Right?” It almost sounds vicious as he snarls back, “Out of all the damn places it could’ve gone. I had a black shirt on, I had dark jeans, but no. Life really said, hey how about this!” Bucky throws the toothbrush at the last word and leans forward looking down at the water that runs clear. He’s breathing in and out deeply. He closes his eyes tightly together and takes in a deep breath. He can only imagine the way his dad is looking at him now. He’s never blown up in front of his dad before. “I’m sorry.” Bucky says quietly. He reaches over and turns off the tap, “It’s just, I really liked this pair.” He licks his bottom lip before biting down on it, “Now it’s ruined.”
“Hey,” his dad says softly. Bucky feels his dad put a comforting hand on his back, “We can always get you a new one.”
“It’s fine.” Bucky shakes his head, taking the shoes out of the sink.
“Bucky,” Bucky walks past him and throws the shoes in the trash bin a little too harshly, “Bucky,” he says more firmly this time and Bucky actually stops and turns to look at him, “I know you love working at the rink to help with your mom’s bills, and it’s really sweet of you, and we appreciate everything you do around here. But maybe it’s time you save some of it for yourself, get yourself a new pair, go do things boys your age do. We never see you out doing things just for you. Maybe go out with your friends. Save some of it,” Bucky opens his mouth to retaliate, “I know you want to help, but I’m saying you already have. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Bucky’s jaw clenches and he looks down and nods.
“I have enough shoes. I’m still going to help mom.” With that he walks out and his father watches him with sad eyes.
He’s mad and he’s tired; two combinations perfect enough for him to be ready for a shower and binge watch whatever any streaming service recommended him that day.
He throws himself onto his bed and runs a hand up his face, sighing.
He couldn’t wait to graduate and go back to New York City. He’d spend the summer there before going to Yale. It was only a countdown until then.
Seven months. 
Just seven months and he’d finally be out of there. He couldn’t wait to go home and see Wanda and Nat again.
He reaches over the nightstand and grabs the white rose he had put there that morning. It was already starting to brittle.
He twirled it around as he looked up at it, this time careful to not hurt himself on the thorn.
How could one small girl like Y/N cause so much frustration in him like this?
Well, she was bully, that’s one.
Two, he’s been in the same school as her since fourth grade and she’s not once ever even noticed him but he’s always noticed her. 
Who couldn’t? She was cold as ice.
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You greet Mr. Cross as you enter the building, throwing him an excited wave and a bright hello. He greets you back just as ecstatically, and then congratulates you on last night’s win. 
Your walk to the rink is slow and steady and even more so when you approach the gate, realizing your rose is gone.
Your steps slow down to a halt and you look around, confused.
“Mr. Cross, was someone here today? I thought we opened just now?”
You slowly turn around to see Mr. Cross with a knowing look on his face.
“No, no one was here today.”
You furrow your brows together in confusion. You look at the empty spot on the gate and around the arena once again.
“But someone took my rose.”
“Or maybe they borrowed it.” Mr. Cross shrugs. You give him a funny look, “Who knows, maybe you’ll find it again.”
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C H A P T E R     T H R E E
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nobedofroses · 1 year
Text
December 2
pairing: Din Djarin x reader
warnings: fluff, allusions to spice
words: 949
a/n: slightly grumpy Din who is also a sucker
Last, Full List, Next
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🏔🏔🏔
While Din had been hunting his last bounty, you and Grogu had gone into the nearby village (you were allowed to because it was in the opposite direction the bounty had gone). As was usual, you went to the market to buy food and other staples that you liked to stock up on just in case you weren’t going to be on planet for a while. 
The baby always stuck close by you and he was generally more well-behaved for you than he was with his dad. You were never sure whether it was because he felt less safe with you than his heavily armored and weaponed dad or if he thought you needed him for protection. Either way you weren’t complaining. 
Today, as you were buying things, the vendors kept mentioning a light festival in the town, asking if the two of you were planning on going. Not knowing the area, you tried to subtly get information from different sellers (probably overly cautious, but Din had influenced you). 
Apparently, there was a large garden at the edge of the village that was decorated in thousands of lights and there would be food vendors and live music. Grogu listened just as much as you did, and while you weren’t sure if he knew what the lights would look like, he was very interested at the prospect of food. And you knew that he would love the lights when he did see them. 
The festival was going on for a couple nights so you would suggest it to Din when he got back to the ship. You knew better than to try and go just you and the baby, never  being allowed to leave the ship without Din at night. Sure that between you and Grogu he would be convinced, the two of you grabbed some lunch before heading back to the ship. 
That night, Din didn’t return until Grogu was asleep and you were getting ready for bed yourself. You were in the fresher but you could hear him take the bounty to the carbonite freezer and then he knocked on the door to give you the all clear. Once you were dried off and dressed, you went out and found him in the cockpit, clearly having just finished eating, but with his helmet back on. 
You smiled at him and he held out a hand for you, helping you to sit sideways on his lap. The two of you were committed to be wed, and some days it felt like you couldn’t wait to be able to kiss him, see his face. The thought of getting to do it soon distracted you for a moment, but when he tilted his head in a clear mark of curiosity, you remembered what you were going to say. 
Grabbing his hand in both of yours, you started playing with his fingers absent-mindedly as you started talking, “So Grogu and I heard about something that sounded like fun today.” 
Din nodded and hummed for you to continue, though you also felt him shifting just a bit underneath you. 
“The town is having a light festival this week with food and music and lights, of course, and I thought the baby would love it.” 
“Just the kid?”
You smiled sheepishly, “Well, I would love it too. What do you say, can we go?” 
He hummed in thought, which you thought was just to make you sweat. “Will I love it?” 
You laughed and said, “I’m sure there will be things there you like. And if there isn’t, I’ll make it up to you.” 
Din’s hands tightened on you and he said, “I think I need an example of that right now.” 
Smiling suggestively, you readjusted to straddle him instead and said, “You can consider it a thank you.” 
___
The next evening, the three of you set out for the festival, and just as you predicted you all loved it. Even underneath his helmet, you could tell that Din was enjoying himself. He made a lot of comments about how everything was constructed and pointed out the particularly elaborate displays to the baby, all while sticking very close to you. The two of you didn’t like to display affection in public (mainly because Din didn’t want anyone to target you because of him), but he did guide you sometimes with a hand on the small of your back or the light touch of his fingertips on your elbow. 
You and Grogu got your fill of yummy food and drinks as you walked, and you made sure to pack some away in your bag for Din to have later. By the end of the night, Din had to carry Grogu back to the ship, all tuckered out from the food and excitement. 
While you put Grogu to bed, Din ate, and again you found him in the cockpit and again, you sat sideways on his lap. 
“So what did you think?” 
After several seconds, Din just shrugged and hummed noncommittally. 
For a second, you questioned yourself, wondering if he actually hadn’t enjoyed himself, but then you felt his hands sliding up your thighs and you realized what he was thinking. 
“Oh no, Din,” you said, exaggerating your worry. “You didn’t like it?” 
Again, Din just shrugged, apparently incapable of outright lying to you. 
“Poor honey, had to spend all that time walking around with us,” you gave him your best sad eyes, knowing he liked it when you babied him a bit. You moved to straddle him, again, and then leaned in, tugging his cowl down so your lips could find his neck, “I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”
🏔🏔🏔
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sebstan2020 · 1 year
Text
The Sharpest Lies
Chapter 2
Pairings: Max Burnett x Original Female Character
Summary: Violet was an expert. She could pick em, play em and win em. She was taught by the best. Conning was an art to her and she had a taste for it. But when she comes to visit her father and his new partner, she aims for the biggest mark she's ever seen.
Warnings: Underage in the past, Controlling, Dom/Sub, Light BDSM, Daddy Issues, Mentions of medical conditions, Con Artists, Daddy Kink
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Violet stared at herself once more in the mirror, a completely different look staring back at her. Her bouncy curls had fallen to beach waves, a few strands going in the complete wrong direction. Her face free from the makeup she wore last night, letting her natural complexation shine through, brightening her eyes further. She urged to put a dab of foundation on but decided against it. The natural look wasn’t so bad. Her lips were slightly chapped but nothing that couldn’t be solved with some balm. She wore the complete opposite to last night. A pair of straight leg jeans with a couple rips in them along with a cropped white tee. She was giving off student vibes. Paired with a denim jacket and a pair of sneakers, she grabbed her rucksack, throwing it over her shoulder.
The taxi would be here soon, so she threw the last couple pieces in her bag, spritzing herself with her favourite perfume and then headed out. Gone was her tiffany bracelet and her Chanel bag was sat in her closet. She took a final look at the apartment, knowing she wasn’t going to return for a few days, possibly weeks but that would depend on everything. The taxi was waiting for her, and she slipped in quietly, confirming the location and sat in the back, watching the Manhattan strip pass by her.
She felt so different, so out of place. The bag of money from last night’s mark was safely tucked in the safe, all counted and stacked neatly. $5000 in total. Enough to make her giddy with excitement. Despite there being a wad of cash back home, her purse only held $20 maximum and a few cents. She had her cards for backup but was hoping they wouldn’t be needed. Violet played with one of the straps on her rucksack, grimacing at how ugly it was but it was perfect for where she was going. Fitted everything she needed. The sun was just setting, and the summer leaves were slowly turning to brown as they entered their autumn faze. The warmth of the afternoon was tucking in as the sun setted, the cold creeping out with the night.
It wasn’t long until she’d be there. In no time, the taxi pulled up to the huge building. She thanked him and gave a quick tip. Luckily, she managed to pay for the taxi beforehand, but she skimped out on the tip, only giving a couple of dollars. Before he could complain, she was storming inside, head forward and not giving a look back. She couldn’t help smiling to herself getting away with it. She had gotten away with it so many times it became second nature.
Violet reached the front desk, meeting a woman dressed in a black dress with her hair pinned up, a thick line of red on her lips and eyes hard on the computer screen. She smiled kindly at Violet as she looked up.
“Hi, how can I help?” she asked.
“I’m here to see Max Burnett, I’m his daughter” she said softly, and the woman stood with excitement.
“Oh, how nice, you are visiting for a couple of days” she asked, and Violet nodded.
“Yes, I haven’t been here for a while, so I’ve forgotten the number” she giggled softly, rolling her eyes slightly.
“Not to worry, it’s the penthouse, 300. He did mention to me his daughter was coming” she smiled, and Violet grinned back, although it was mostly fake, she just wanted to get out of here. She thanked the lady and proceeded to the elevator. The apartment complex was none other than the most expensive complex in Manhattan with over 300 rooms, of course the top being the penthouse. The marbled floors and pillars dripped of money and the leather seats stationed at the front desk added to its expensive décor. Gold accents and little details meant this place cost a fortune to make. The apartments rents alone were nearly $3000 a month. Anyone that could afford that was a CEO of some sort of doing something on the side. The penthouse was the most expensive of course however it was owned.
Violet stood in the elevator, tapping her foot on the floor as she leaned against the wall, her stomach slightly filling with butterflies. Why she was nervous she didn’t know but she knew it would go away soon. It always did. Her hands were slightly clammy as the numbers on the screen went up, reaching the top floor. It pinged open, a flurry of music and chatter flooding into the open elevator and she stepped out, taking a deep breath.
People swarmed the penthouse, dressed in fancy suits, and dressed, cocktails and champagne flutes gripped tightly in their hands, jewellery hanging off their fingers and wrists. Violet shuffled in, slipping through the crowds of people, her eyes catching a piece of jewellery off one lady’s wrists. She quite liked it and made a note of it in her head. Perhaps her next buy. The foyer led into a living room, large and filled with people and a band playing in the corner. a tall lady held a microphone, singing softly, clicking her fingers, and swaying to the rhythm. She was dressed in a beautiful long red dress, hair all done up and a sort of drunk smile on her face. She was clearly enjoying herself.
Violet glanced around, her attention being stolen from a waiter passing a tray of champagne and she took one, giving a small thanks before necking it back. She knew she shouldn’t be drinking but she needed it to calm her nerves. Everyone was so dressed up and she looked like she woke up from a five-hour nap. Her hair had slightly dropped again and lips drying up. But as she scanned the crowd, her eyes fell on who she was looking for. Her father. He was stood talking to another gentlemen, clearly explaining something when his eyes flickered over and caught hers, a smile appearing instantly. He cut off his conversation shortly as he began to walk over.
“Hi sweetheart” he grinned, enveloping Violet in a tight hug to which she reciprocated. He smelt fresh with a rich cologne dripping from his neck. She noticed he was clean shaven and dressed in a fine black suit. It was obvious there was some sort of function taking place. Her father was part of the wealthy elite in this city. Talking with high prices lawyers and businessmen, he was a smart man with a few tricks up his sleeve.
“Hi daddy” she murmured into his chest, squeezing him tightly before pulling back. Max took a deep breath, unable to bring the smile off his lips and rubbed her shoulders lovingly.
“I’m so glad you could make it, how was the drive?” he asked, and she shrugged.
“Fine, I took a taxi” she said, and he furrowed his brows.
“I thought you were driving?” he asked.
“I was but, I’ve had a few episodes so…” she explained, and he nodded, understanding.
“I see, you should have told me, I’d have someone come pick you up” Violet scoffed a little.
“It’s fine Daddy, I’m a big girl I can get here on my own” she teased, and he chuckled. He was about to say something when someone caught his eye and he gleamed.
“Oh, Madeline, come here” he called over a woman, dressed in a white dress. Her hair was red, long, and straight, the ends looking perfect. She wore a light layer of makeup with a touch of eyeshadow around her eyes with a bright smile lined with lipstick. She looked older, judging by the bags under her eyes and the little wrinkles around her temples and she joined Max, her arm creeping behind him. Violet frowned, her eyes hardening at the woman who looked up to Max thanks to her shorter stature. Her stepmother to be exact.
Madeline Hobbs, a rich successful businesswoman. She started her company in software when she was only twenty-two. Now, she owned one of the biggest companies in Manhattan. She was seen all over the covers of magazines, build boards, advertising. She was every woman’s dream. Including her fathers. Since they met, they had been inseparable. Dating for almost a year now, the two had moved in together six months into the relationship. Max was smitten by her nerdy mind and professional look. Madeline was stunned by his good looks and charm. Violet wasn’t all that thrilled to be standing opposite her. She never did like her and probably never would. She was an annoying old cow as Violet liked to describe. It had been just the two of them for so long, when Madeline entered the family, she couldn’t stand her.
“I want you to meet my daughter, Violet” Madeline smiled, opening her arms out for a hug and engulfing Violet in, despite her cringing up.
“Hi Violet, your father has told me so much about you” she said happily, and Violet hummed, pulling back and tensing.
“Cool” she replied coldly.
“I was so excited when he said you were coming, I know you’ve been busy with work and all that” Madeline fumbled with her words slightly.
“Yeah, really busy” she groaned, rolling her eyes, and sipping the last of her champagne. Madeline slightly tensed but let out a short laugh, tucking a piece of fallen hair away.
“Well please enjoy yourself, we have lots of drinks, but I’m sure if there isn’t anything you like I can have someone make you someth- “Violet cut her off before she spoke anymore.
“I’m not a child I can make my own drink” she snapped, and Madeline froze.
“Sweetheart” Max warned, his hand slowly caressing Madeline’s back.
“What I’m just saying” she huffed.
Max sighed and took the glass out of her hand, nearly slamming it on the table before wrapping his arm around her back and leading her away.
“Come on, come with me” he whispered, pulling her away from the crowds, away from Madeline, away from the hustle and bustle. Madeline gave a tight smile, sighing awkwardly.  Violet pushed past people, knocking shoulders, and earning scowls from the guests. Max pulled her into an office of some sort, the music slowly dying. The office was big, with a desk to one side and in the middle some large comfy chairs and a couch. There was a large cabinet and on top decanters filled with different whiskeys, a tray of precious classes and an ice bucket. Violet huffed, dumping her bag on the floor, and making her way to the drinks. She needed one badly otherwise she couldn’t hold herself accountable for what she might say.
“You didn’t need to be rude” Max scolded.
“I wasn’t rude, I was simply telling the wicked witch I can do things myself” she grinned sarcastically, and Max groaned.
“Don’t call her that, I told you she’s not trying to be your stepmother” he padded closer.
“Well looks to me like she is” Violet threw back a glass of whiskey, swallowing and breathing heavily.
“Go easy on that please, you know you shouldn’t be drinking” he said with concern and Violet glared at him.
“Stop being my dad, dad” she spat and slumped in one of the chairs.
“You know how it affects you… have you taken your meds today?” he asked, softly sitting in the couch opposite.
“Yes” she rolled her eyes. Max furrowed his brows, leaning on his knees. This wasn’t like Violet. The daughter he knew was bubbly and kind and looked so happy to see him earlier on.
“Sweetheart what’s going on, why are you acting like this, did something happen?” he asked, and Violet took a deep breath, putting the glass on the side next to her.
“No, nothing happened… I just, can I stay here for a bit… there’s a rat infestation at the apartment and I have nowhere to go” she squeaked, her eyes going from tense to sad, her lips slightly frowning. Max took a breath, shrugging his shoulders.
“Okay, um, I’ll ask Madeline- “Violet glared.
“Well, this is your place too, I don’t see why it’s her decision” she scolded.
“Well, I at least have to ask, it would be wrong of me to just say yes without telling her” he replied, and Violet laughed, shaking her head.
“I see so you’re letting her run the show” Max sighed, shaking his head. His daughter could be so frustrating.
“No that’s not what I’m saying at all”.
“Well, it sounds like it” she snapped, and the room fell silent. Max blinked for a moment, taking a deep breath. Violet sighed, pushing up from the seat. She didn’t mean to snap.
“I’m sorry, I just need somewhere to stay, please” she whispered, and Max smiled gently.
“Okay, you can stay, there’s a guest room down the hall but you can’t be rude, okay, please I want you two to get along” Violet smiled and leapt forward falling into his arms and hugging him tightly.
“Thanks daddy” she whispered into his shoulder and Max smiled, rubbing her back softly.
“Your welcome sweetie” he whispered back, kissing her head. Violet pulled back, tucking her hair behind her ear and gathered her bag.
“Think I’m going to go lay down” she announced, standing, and walking out the office, leaving her father sat there. As she turned to walk down the hall, she noticed Madeline standing a few feet from the door. Her face instantly fell, and she barged past her.
“Enjoy the show?” Madeline frowned, looking to the floor, the words beating down on her and when she heard the slam of the guest door, she padded into the office. Max sighed, running his hands through his dark hair, rubbing his face. Madeline slipped down next to him, and he turned to her, unable to get his words out. Guilt was riding through him. He prayed the guests didn’t hear any of that. The last thing he wanted was Madeline embarrassed and by his own daughter. She could be a handful at times, even too much for him.
“I’m sorry- “he began but Madeline shook her head.
“It’s okay” she smiled.
“No, it’s not, I’m sorry she spoke to you like that”.
“Max it’s fine, look this is new for both of us… and don’t worry she can stay” Max scoffed, smiling a little.
“Thank you” he whispered, leaving in for a peck. Madeline hummed in the kiss, leaning her head on his shoulder. This was going to take a lot of work with Violet.
Hey so I hope you like it, let me know what you think in the comments and if you want to be tagged
@pattiemac1​
@hazzapottaher​
@sebastiansluts​
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mymoonagedaydream · 1 year
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Part 2
Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Anti-religious sentiment throughout, language
Author’s Note: Thank y’all for reading part one, I appreciate it v much. Feel free to go read the old one if you want cheeky spoilers, the plot might even change as I rewrite who knows.
Part 1
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Three loud, sharp knocks at your bedroom door abruptly yanked you out of sleep.
'Are you going to sleep all day? The mantelpiece isn't going to dust itself.'
You wiped a hand across your face and rolled over to grab your phone, the light from the screen making you wince as it flashed on. It was 6:30. More knocks sounded until you shouted to confirm that yes, you were up and yes, dusting was the first item on your agenda for the day. You just had to make sure she didn't find out that the rest of your agenda had been fully booked up by the town delinquent.
You banged out all your morning chores and inhaled some breakfast before racing upstairs to get ready, but not before spinning a yarn to your mother about wanting to spend the whole day at the local library to get ahead with some assigned reading. As far as lies went, it was one of your more tragic ones, but you figured showing up to a date with your mom's library card was slightly less shameful than showing up to a house party with her Yahtzee.
You managed to escape the house just in time, hurrying down side street after side street to get to the meeting point you'd agreed with James the night before. Speed walking was helping you to expend some of your built-up nervous energy but you were still a wreck, half-convinced he wouldn't show up, half-convinced he'd show up just to tell you he'd changed his mind about the date. Not a single iota of your brain could bring itself to believe that a guy like that was genuinely interested in you.
Turning the corner into the town square, you saw him. He was dressed in exactly the same outfit as your last two encounters, black jeans with a white tee and black leather jacket, but this time you really noticed how incredibly hard he was rocking it.  Just watching him lean against the statue in the centre of the square and smoke was kinda driving you crazy. As soon as he spotted you his expression softened and he began strolling in your direction, throwing the stub into a trash as he passed it.
'Glad you came, Church Mouse.'
'Did you think I wouldn't show?'
He shrugged. 'I figured it was a toss up between me and Jesus, and he always looks pretty buff in the church windows.'
'Oh yeah?' Your words stuttered slightly through suppressed laughter, 'I'm impressed you studied them so thoroughly.'
'Gotta scope out the competition.'
He flashed you a quick wink before presenting an elbow, prompting you to snake your arm through his. The smell of his cologne mixed with the firmness of whatever your hand was resting on helped calm you down a little. You were quite impressed that you'd managed to get through the first conversation without word vomiting, you just had to keep a lid on things and appear as normal as possible for however long he decided he wanted to put up with you.
Much to your surprise, he started guiding you towards the exit at the opposite end of the square, away from all the town's bars and restaurants. From what you remembered there was nothing in this part of town but a kids park and some empty fields dotted with dog turd landmines. As the two of you strolled through the suburbs, you started to notice a surprising amount of people also heading in the same direction. Faint crowd noise and upbeat music rose from behind the trees ahead and the sickly sweet smell of deep fried dough wafted towards you, causing child-like excitement to begin bubbling in your stomach. Bucky shot you a knowing smile as he led you through the tree line and up to the entrance of the carnival.
In all honestly, you'd been expecting a neat whiskey and a couple games of pool in a local dive bar, so the prospect of a carnival date was thrilling you to an almost embarrassing degree. He enclosed your hand in his, dragging you from game to game with a brief break for hot dogs after an hour or so. One of the booths you ended up stuck at for a good thirty minutes because, once you'd told Bucky how cute the stuffed giraffe hanging in the corner was, he refused to leave without winning it. After his fifth failed attempt at knocking over all the cans you couldn't hold back your laughter anymore.
He rapidly swung round and lunged towards you, catching you off guard a little. Before you knew it your feet were off the ground and he was spinning you round in circles, shouting that he was going to sell you to the carnival for a couple free hot dogs. You tried your best to threaten him into dropping you but your words were garbled by laughter. When you were eventually released, you took a second to straighten out your clothes before turning round to confront your tormentor- but he was gone. You snapped your head round frantically, eventually spotting him back over by the can knockdown game, acting incredibly suspiciously. You looked on in disbelief as he waited for someone to distract the attendant before vaulting the front of the booth, frantically grabbing the stuffed giraffe and making a break for it. He was spotted almost immediately. With an exhilarated grin he sprinted towards you and grabbed hold of your hand, dragging you back towards the carnival entrance and out through the trees. The shouts of angry employees eventually faded into the distance along with the jolly music and the voices of hundreds of revellers.
Your heart was thumping rapidly as the two of you paused to catch your breaths, a heady mixture of anxiety and adrenaline churning in your stomach. It was a very unfamiliar feeling for you, but not one you disliked.
Bucky held the stuffed toy out, 'I said I'd get it for ya.'
'You said you'd win it for me.'
'I did?' You nodded, smothering a smile. 'Damn, must'a misspoke, I've always sucked at carnival games.'
'No shit.'
Reaching out with a smirk, you took the giraffe, clutching it with both hands before turning to stroll back in the direction of the town square. You didn't make it more than three steps before a heavy arm draped itself over your shoulders.
'So, you wanna grab a drink?'
'I'd really love to Buck, but it's getting late. I should get back.' You saw his face drop slightly so you stopped walking, turning to face him, a little embarrassed at what you were about to admit. 'I mean it, I want to spend more time with you but, y'know, uh- my mom kinda thinks I'm at the library.'
'Oh, for real? Damn. So what's the curfew on library time?'
'Well it closes at five...'
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time, a grin spreading over his face. 'Great, I got you for another half hour.'
His hand closed over yours once more, his stride quickening as you approached the town square. He eventually stopped beside a bench, flopping himself down and manoeuvring you next to him, his arm wrapping tight around your waist. Then the two of you just sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. It was nice, after all the noise and chaos of the fair, to relax and enjoy each others company. It'd been a long time since you'd felt this at ease around someone, even though he had just committed grand theft stuffie.
It was you who eventually broke the silence.
‘Thanks, Bucky.’
His head turned in your direction. ‘For what?’
‘I didn’t think I’d be having much fun this summer, but I really enjoyed today.’
You felt a rush of warm air hit the side of your face as he let out a breathy chuckle and scooched even closer to you, his firm thigh pressed against yours and his thumb gently stroking your hip. There were another few seconds of silence before you heard him mutter to himself.
‘It ain’t right.’
‘Hmm?’
He sighed, removing his hand from your hip and bringing it up to stroke his fingers through your hair. ‘Your parents, keeping you locked away like that. Fuckin' Catholics.’
‘It’s not all bad,' you whispered, relaxing your head against his shoulder and angling your face up towards his, 'you get free wine on Sundays.'
With a slight laugh he began adjusting himself, turning his body towards yours and gently placing his free hand under your chin. ‘That's true, but you know as well as I do that stained-glass never really lets in the sun.’
He pressed his lips against yours. Your stomach knotted. His hand moved from your chin to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb brushing softly across your cheek. He pressed towards you more firmly, sliding his tongue along your lips, his breath tasting like cigarettes and candy floss. Your knees tensed and your thighs started shaking. He must’ve noticed, because you felt a deep chuckle vibrating into your mouth, but that only made you worse. You melted into him, just about steadying yourself by gripping the lapels of his jacket.
He pulled away, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck, keeping a tight grip on your waist.
‘Not bad for a church girl.’
After Bucky had walked you most of the way home- you weren't about to risk either of your parents spotting him through a window- the rest of that evening had been a rose-tinted blur. The adrenaline still coursing through your veins prevented you from getting any kind of decent sleep but you didn't mind, you just lay awake replaying the day in your head, smiling and giggling to yourself like a giddy teenager.
Your good mood was somewhat dampened, however, by your mother bursting through your door at 6am without so much as a courtesy knock.
‘What is this?!’
You'd never seen her look so horrified, you were half-expecting her to tell you some scientist somewhere had finally, decisively disproved the existence of god. Wiping your hair out of your face and painstakingly sitting up, you humoured her, squinting at the phone she was holding a few inches from your face.
It was a photo of you and Bucky holding hands at the fair. Shit.
‘Where did you get that?’ You muttered.
‘Angela sent it to me. She saw you there, with him.’
You buried your face in your hands, already exasperated by the argument you hadn't even had yet, your voice muffled against your palms. ‘He's a nice guy, mom. He's just-’
‘He is a criminal. And if you think you’re seeing him again, you’re wrong.’
She turned on her heels and began to storm away. You felt a bubbling anger like nothing you’d ever felt before, everything Bucky had said racing through your mind. He was right. You’d thought about it before, of course you had, but all you’d ever felt was a kind of defeated acceptance. Now, you were pissed.  
‘I am not a fucking child.’ You screamed.
She jerked to a stop. As she slowly twisted round, you saw a face filled with venom. ‘We’ll speak again when you’re ready to apologise.’
The door slammed and you heard the lock click. Your head was spinning but you were grinning to yourself, still half in disbelief; you’d never stood up to her like that before and you were starting to regret not doing it sooner. It felt really fucking good. The only downside was that it now seemed like you'd be locked in your bedroom for the rest of the summer, the idea of which sent you spiralling into a pit of depression for the rest of the day. You got out of bed a few times to use your bathroom but, other than that, all you did was lie there letting train of thought after train of thought lose control, jump the track and derail. You could always just leave, but how would you make ends meet without money coming in from your parents? You could try to somehow convince them that Bucky had repented and become born again, but surely presenting him with that psycho idea would put him off you forever? You'd only been on one freaking date with the guy, how had it become so complicated so fast?
It was starting to get dark when a quiet clinking noise snapped you out of your spiral. You lifted your head, screwing up your eyebrows in confusion, waiting to see if it happened again. It did. It sounded like it was coming from the window. You clambered off the bed and stumbled across the room, pulling open the curtains and scanning the skyline. Another, louder clink made you jump and pulled your eyes downwards, where you saw Bucky standing on your parents' lawn. He was shaking his phone at you, a wave of aggravated realisation hitting when you looked over at your bedside table and remembered you'd put yours on silent the night before. The screen lit up as you grabbed it, revealing twenty texts and eleven missed calls from Bucky. You returned to the window and hit the call back button.
'Hey! Sorry for throwing shit, figured I probably shouldn't try the front door.'
'So you break into the garden?'
He shrugged. 'It's romantic.'
'Sure is.'
'Knew it.' His eyes were fixed on yours, they began to soften as concern washed over his face. 'Y'alright? I didn't piss you off or anything did I?'
'No Buck, don't worry. I'm sorry I didn't answer I just- I've had a really bad day.'
'Sorry to hear that, Church Mouse. Would coming out with me for a while cheer you up?'
'More than you can imagine,' just the thought of it prompted your first smile of the day, 'but I can't. One of my mom's crazy church friends saw us together yesterday, I'm locked in.'
‘Man, you’re living with psychopaths.’
You nodded and let out a disheartened sigh. 'Tell me about it.'
‘Look,' he stepped closer to the window, 'I know it's not my place to say, and I know they’re your parents, but you realise you don’t owe them anything, right? Especially after everything they’ve done.’
His words echoed around in your head, becoming more convincing the more you considered them. You were about to respond but, before you had a chance, the light from the room below you turned on and Bucky was suddenly illuminated in bright yellow light. Without missing a beat, he sprinted towards the fence and vaulted into next door’s garden. You heard a breathy I’ll see you soon babe through the phone before he hung up.  
Your father ran out of the back door, but pretty quickly decided not to give chase. Just the distance from the top of the patio stairs from the bottom had caused his entire face to turn bright red. He looked up at you, seething anger in his eyes, but you didn’t waver. You were already locked in your room for the foreseeable future, what else could he possibly do?
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Part 3
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Silver Springs Part 2
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word count: ~13k
Summary: Wanda tries to leave her mob life behind to start a family with you.
A/N: This is a crack-ish fic that I wrote because I got bored. Reposting from Ao3. Enjoy.
Chapter warnings: Drug use, smut, mentions of violence and getting shot. 
You’re outside when Yelena and Nat arrive for a visit. You’d exhausted yourself with the stress of your appointment, so you’d gone to the third-floor deck to take a nap. You’d brought Boone with you of course, but when he heard the car door slam from the driveway, he stood up to investigate. He spots Yelena, Nat, and Fanny all walking to the front door and he quickly heads back inside to greet them.
The sound causes you to stir, but you’re stubborn and don’t wake up immediately. You’re a little stoned because well you’d tried to destress by smoking, and you already feel better. You didn’t usually smoke, and you definitely hadn’t while you were trying to get pregnant, but now that you weren’t you figured you deserved to relax a little. You’re having an amazing dream when your friends arrive, so you just roll back over and try to stay asleep. You’re full-on snoring by the time Yelena comes to find you.
Wanda’s quick to answer the door when the doorbell sounds throughout the house. She’d been trying to figure out dinner and what would most likely put the two of you in a better mood. She’d given you some time alone because she figured you needed to rest. She also wanted a chance to talk to their friends without you present. She sets the rest of the food on the kitchen counter before hurrying to beat Boone to the front door.
“Boone, wait!”
The shepherd had a bad habit of getting too excited by the doorbell, and since he can see who it is through the large windows he’ll bark loudly whenever he recognizes someone. Wanda manages to wave him off and keep him from doing much more than whine as she opens the door for her friends.
“Hey there, Red.”
“Boss.”
Wanda rolls her eyes with an affectionate smile as she waves the duo inside. She moves to grab some of the bags they brought and Yelena sighs in relief when she’s left with just her dog and a couple of bags in one hand.
“Thanks for coming you two. Also, technically not your boss anymore, Yelena.”
Yelena just shrugs before she attempts to remove Fanny’s leash while she’s greeting her best friend. Boone is jumping on her and biting her ears which makes the task difficult. She eventually gives up and lets the two dogs run around and get hair all over everything. Wanda sighs as she watches the duo, but since they’re not knocking things over like the used to, she can’t really complain too much.
Wanda follows the pair to the kitchen before she realizes they’ve brought groceries. She feels her appreciation for the sisters grow even more as Natasha begins to unload everything they brought. The older redhead looks around briefly, before turning back to Wanda with a questioning look.
“Where’s Y/n?”
Wanda shrugs as she moves to the kitchen to take stock of what she has to work with for dinner. She hasn’t seen you in a while and she’s sure you’re resting upstairs. Most likely outside. She says this and notices how Yelena places her bags on the counter and ducks out in search of you. She runs past the dogs to finally free Fanny of her leash before heading up to where you’re most likely asleep.
Wanda turns back to Natasha who’s handing her ingredients to your favorite dish. She’s not the best at cooking, but she’d made a lot of progress since she’s known Wanda. She used to burn mac and cheese, but now she could probably help Wanda make dinner without any casualties. Yelena on the other hand, still burnt mac and cheese if she wasn’t paying enough attention.
“So how are you handling all of this?”
Wanda would be lying if she said she hadn’t expected the question at some point. However, she hadn’t really come up with an answer yet that wasn’t too depressing. In all honesty she was disappointed, and she felt guilty about it but didn’t know how to explain it.
Wanda sighs as she moves to grab a couple of cutting boards and a pan from the cabinet. She hands one to Natasha as the redhead hands her a knife before she shakes her head.
“I’m disappointed of course, but I think that maybe we’re going about this all wrong.”
Wanda doesn’t offer an explanation to her cryptic statement and Natasha opens her mouth to ask for one when she’s cut off. The sound of a muffled scream from a couple floors up causes Wanda to stiffen and she’s about to run upstairs before Natasha’s hand falls to her wrist.
“It’s fine. Yelena just scared the shit out of Y/n, I’m sure.”
Wanda wants to argue that she should check, but she knows that Natasha is right. The two of you should be joining them shortly, probably once all of the cooking was done.
Natasha resumes cutting the vegetables given to her before she glances over to Wanda who seems to be lost in thought.
She nudges the other redhead before offering her a kind smile. She knows how much Wanda wants children. She’s only talked about it since she met you, but Nat hates seeing her so stressed and discouraged.
“What did you mean by going about it wrong?”
Wanda sighs before she admits what she’s concluded earlier today. She’d been selfish. She wanted so badly to see you pregnant and get to take care of you throughout your pregnancy until your children were born. It was something she’d always wanted, but seeing the kind of stress it was putting you under made her second guess this. She didn’t want her dream to come at the expense of your happiness.
“I just want kids, as you know. I’ve always wanted to have our own, but I don’t think that makes much of a difference. Whether she gives birth to them, or I do, or we adopt, I think we will love them all the same.”
You’re dreaming about eating dinner with famous cats when Yelena makes her way up to the deck. She looks around before spotting you on the couch and she hurries over to you. Her nose wrinkles slightly at as she gets closer and she frowns as she looks to the discarded lighter on the table. She puts two and two together rather quickly, and loudly.
“YOU SMOKED WITHOUT ME!?”
You jump up and scream as you’re awoken rather rudely. You’re breathing heavily as you jump to your feet and hold your arms up ready to fight off any threat. When you see it’s Yelena shooting you an incredulous look you just slap her hard, and repeatedly.
“Damn it, Yelena! You scared me to death you bitch!”
You continue to slap the blonde until she grabs your hands and shakes her head. She looks to your slightly reddened eyes and your glare with a laugh as she pulls you in for a hug.
“You deserve it. You smoked without your best friend.”
Despite your desire to break away and shoot your ‘best friend’ a glare you don’t. You just sigh in defeat before you hug her back with a small smile. You tighten your hold on her before releasing the blonde with another sigh.
“It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed seeing you every day.”
Yelena nods before she sits down on the couch you’d just been napping on with a yawn. She motions for you to sit next to her which you do, and she throws an arm around your shoulder.
“I bet. I’m very entertaining.”
You groan under your breath before playfully slapping Yelena again. She pretended to cringe in pain before she pulls you into a side hug.
“I’ve missed you too. The compound hasn’t been the same, and Natasha is so boring.”
You laugh out loud at this and realize that Yelena’s just answered your next question. You turn around to confirm it though and you see Nat’s corvette in the driveway meaning that the redhead is also here. She never lets anyone else drive that car unless it’s a matter of life or death.
“I’m sorry I smoked without you, but…”
You trail off as you move away slightly to dig into your pocket. Yelena’s eyes widen at the sight of not one or two, but 4 joints that you’d stuck in your pocket. You’d fallen asleep before smoking more than one, but you knew that Yelena wouldn’t mind helping you out. You smile widely at her look of surprise before shrugging.
“What? It’s local.”
Almost half an hour passes of you and Yelena catching up before anyone comes to look for you. The two of you are laughing loudly at stories about near hopeless recruits that Yelena’s had the displeasure of trying to train.
“He literally sliced his entire shirt trying to pull out his knife. I thought he was going to cut himself.”
You snorted as you imagined this happening, and better yet both Yelena and Nat’s reaction to this. The redhead probably kept a straight face as she questioned her luck while Yelena lost it. You don’t think you would have been able to restrain yourself and you burst out into laughter at the thought.
“I know I’m not great despite all of your and Nat’s work, but I’m not that bad, am I?”
Yelena takes another drag before she pretends to think about it a little. She hasn’t sparred with you in a long time, but she knew from her sister that you were improving a lot. Still couldn’t beat either of them and probably never would, but when you were keeping up with the twice weekly training, you probably could have taken most thugs you’d run into on the street.
Instead of saying this; however, Yelena decides to give you a hard time. She finished up your third joint before coughing out smoke.
“I don’t remember. It’s been so long since we’ve trained together.”
Neither you nor Yelena notice Boone’s presence until he barks at you a few minutes later. He’d been sent up by Wanda to get the two of you downstairs for dinner. However, you currently have other plans as you jump up to your feet with a wide smile. You hold up your hands like you’re ready to fight before motioning for Yelena to stand up.
“We can train now! You’re right it’s been so long! Let me punch you.”
Yelena laughs as she stands up as well so she’s only about a foot away from you. She shoots you a smug look that makes you want to lash out immediately, but you wait patiently as you bounce on the balls of your feet.
“Yeah right. You couldn’t hit me right now if you tried.”
You of course don’t agree with this and you throw a hand out haphazardly and are almost as surprised as Yelena when it lands. You watch as Yelena stumbles back and falls back onto the couch holding her nose with a grimace. You’d just punched her in the nose.
“You just punched me in the nose!”
“You told me to!”
“No, I didn’t!”
Boone barking makes you jump in surprise and even with your brain clouded by the drugs you realize why he’s here. You grimace as you reach out for Yelena to pull her to her feet.
“Come on, we’re being summoned.”
Wanda and Nat are almost finished with dinner when you and Yelena make it to the kitchen. Both redheads immediately realize something is off when you’re clinging to Yelena as the two of you walk down the stairs. More like stumble down the stairs, and Wanda is already halfway to you when you nearly fall for the third time.
For some reason you’re just laughing as Yelena grumbles inaudible Russian under her breath as she hauls you to your wife. You barely avoid stepping on Boone as you hurry to the closer of the two concerned redheads with a wide smile.
“Wands! I missed you!”
Wanda’s startled by your seemingly inebriated state, and she pulls you into her arms with wide eyes. As soon as your arms are wrapped around her and you’re leaning against her Wanda understands the reason for your odd behavior. She turns to Yelena who is rubbing her nose gingerly with an accusing look.
“Did you give her weed?”
Nat’s trying really hard not to laugh at how high you clearly are. You’ve since pulled away from your wife to play with her hair all the while having a dopey smile on your face. You mutter things under your breath that Nat can’t hear, but Wanda probably can. Not that she’s paying you much attention right now. She’s clinging to you while glaring at her sister who just throws her hands up with an offended look.
“No way! She shared with me. It was her stash.”
This surprises Wanda for a few reasons. For one, she thought you’d only smoked that one time with Yelena years ago. That had ended horribly and you’d promised to be more careful in the future. Since you couldn’t drink a lot of alcohol, you’d turned to recreational drugs. This state was great for that, and you had easy access to weed apparently.
Wanda hadn’t realized that you smoked regularly, or that you kept it in the house. She briefly wondered where you hid it before she becomes distracted by your loud whispering.
“You’re so pretty Wanda. So, so pretty!”
Nat can’t help but snort at your loud declaration, and this of course catches your attention. Your eyes widen as you spot another friend and you release Wanda rather suddenly as you near-run to the other redhead.
“Nat! You too! Oh my gosh.”
You practically throw yourself at the older girl who just laughs at you in amusement. You’re squeezing her tightly as Wanda and Yelena have a silent conversation. Your wife isn’t happy by how stoned you are, but at Yelena’s shrug she realizes that there isn’t anything she can do about it now. She figures you were just trying to decompress, and of course once Yelena becomes involved with anything it becomes a mess.
“Yup. I’m here too. Good to see you, kid.”
You don’t respond and instead just hold the redhead tighter. You’re comfortable where you’re standing beside her and you cuddle closer to her with a yawn. You don’t realize you’re practically burying your face in her chest until she tries to pull you away.
“Okay, now you’re getting too comfortable.”
Yelena scoffs as she meanders over to the kitchen to see what the redheads had cooked. She mutters something as she steals a bite of what’s still on the stove.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Both Wanda and Nat glare at the blonde who seems completely unbothered by their looks. She watches as Nat near tears you from her body and deposits you back in your wife’s arms with a sigh. Wanda shakes her head at you before moving to sit you down at the table. She doesn’t think too hard about what Yelena just said, but it’s a little difficult when the sisters are still whispering about it.
Back when you were in college, Nat had actually met you before Wanda. You’d been forced by your friends to go out to a club on Saturday night and instead of drinking an obscene amount and pouting all alone you’d run into Nat. The redhead was both stunning and a sweet talker, and you’d ended up back at your place. It was a completely uncharacteristic decision for you that you hadn’t regretted at all until the morning after. You’d hadn’t expected to wake up after a night of wild sex and have a heart to heart with the stranger you brought home, but you also hadn’t expected her to leave right after. You’d been disappointed but eventually moved on with your life. Then you’d met Wanda.
When Wanda had introduced you her friends after the two of you had been dating for a year, you’d been surprised to realize you’d already met one. You and Nat had just stared at each other for a solid 30 seconds before you burst out laughing. You’d laughed so hard you almost cried while Wanda was confused by your reaction and Nat’s horrified look.
You’d explained it to Wanda eventually, and honestly, you’d never been so afraid of the redhead. She’s looked pissed and you feared for Nat’s safety when she finally speaks up. The question was directed at Nat who you remembered looking deeply unsettled, but you’d answered for her in attempt to calm Wanda down. She clearly wasn’t happy to hear about how you’d met and how Nat has essentially ghosted you, but she got over it eventually. When you two became good friends and you convinced Wanda a few dozen times that you were only hers, she finally stopped glaring at Nat whenever you were around.
“How about we eat?”
Even though Wanda had made you some coffee, you still leaned heavily on her as you ate your dinner. You were very chatty when high and everyone was enjoying listening to you ramble. The trio had been worried that you’d be too upset tonight to really enjoy their company, but all it took was a little weed to get your mind off of your bad luck.
“We need to have another movie night, Yelena. You can come too, Nat and Wands.”
The two redheads sighed while Yelena smiled at the thought. She began to think of what movies you could watch next while Nat was already shaking her head. She wasn’t sure how you always liked to watch horror movies. The world was terrifying enough if you thought too much about it. Wanda simply preferred to watch rom-coms. Not that she’d admit that to anyone other than who was in this room.
“Sure thing. Maybe we can watch outside again.”
You smile widely as Wanda immediately starts to shake her head. The last time you and Yelena had watched a horror movie outside on the second floor, you ended up screaming and throwing pillows over the railing onto the driveway. Nat just smiles into her glass while she watches the chaos unfold in front of her. She watches you recall the incident while Wanda appears to be plotting how to prevent you from doing this. Yelena sneaks food to the dogs that are sitting at her feet before she turns her attention to you. You’re drinking coffee and looking less high by the second, but you’re distracted from your conversation with Yelena by your wife.
You smile innocently at her warning look before you shake your head in agreement. You’ll be smart and just hold movie night in the den instead of at the top of your house. You stifle a yawn in your coffee as you snap your fingers at Boone who you just realized is begging for food at Yelena’s feet.
“Boone no. Come here.”
Dinner passes by too quickly for your liking, but you jump up from your seat to grab your wife’s dish before she can even stand. You shoot her a look, and she just smiles gratefully before you begin to go around the table and grab everyone’s plates.
“Nat are you busy this weekend? I wanted to get back to training.”
You don’t notice the look that Wanda shoots the redhead who’s already opened her mouth to respond. She pauses for a moment before she’s nodding and handing you her plate.
“Yeah, let me check my schedule and I’ll let you know. Thanks.”
You smile widely before you hand the stack of plates to Yelena who’d been prepared to hand you hers. She pouts but doesn’t get a chance to argue before you’re speaking up and motioning for her to follow you.
“Awesome! I’ll pretend like that doesn’t mean you have to talk to Wanda. Yelena and I are going to get cleaning since you cooked, so chat away.”
Yelena sighs but she follows you to the kitchen with a frown and a pile of dirty dishes. Boone of course follows and Wanda watches as you bat Fletcher off of the counter.
“So what’s the verdict boss?”
Wanda rolls her eyes before she nodded in agreement. She didn’t have anything against you and Nat training. Well that wasn’t true. She would always worry that you would get hurt, and she hated it when you came home too sore to do anything other than lie down. That said, she knew how valuable it was for you to be able to defend yourself, and sometimes you even had fun. She mostly wanted to make sure that you were wanting to train for the right reasons. She knew you were upset, and unfortunately when you were upset you didn’t make stellar decisions.
She stole a glance to where you were instructing Yelena to reclean a dish because it wasn’t spotless. She smiles before looking back to Nat with another nod. She just wants to check in with you later to make sure you’re feeling better.
“I’ll talk to her later tonight.”
Your friends left about an hour later. They’d stayed for drinks and after thanking the pair for cheering them up, you and Wanda were left alone again. You sigh as she you shut the door behind the duo and Fanny before locking it with a yawn.
“It’s past my bedtime.”
Wanda smiles before she’s reaching out for you. You move close enough so she can pull you into her arms, and she kisses your hair.
“It is. You need to get to bed if you want your 8 hours.”
You follow your wife upstairs to the bedroom where you immediately head for the dresser for a change of clothes. You continue to yawn as you change clothes and wash your face. While you’re brushing your teeth you watch as Wanda sits on the bed and puts her hair up. You take a moment to admire her exposed skin from where her shirt rides up.   
“I have a confession.”
Wanda turns to you with a curious look and you try not to lose courage as you move to sit down on the other side of the bed.
“Okay.”
Wanda’s not sure where you’re going with this, but she doesn’t have to wait long to find out. You shift slightly before you cross your legs and sigh heavily. You meet your wife’s gaze because you want to see her reaction to what you have to say next.
“I don’t think I want to keep trying to have children. I mean I want to adopt. “
Wanda’s eyes widen slightly at the first part, but she’s relieved when you elaborate. She knows that you’d been on the fence about having kids when the two of you met, but since then you’d said you wanted them. She wouldn’t want you to just agree to having kids to appease her.
She opens her mouth to say that she’s perfectly fine with this. That she reached the same conclusion when you speak up again. She realizes you’re nervous, so she hurries to cut you off.
“I know you really wanted to go through the pregnancy, but I’m sure we can find a baby, and it’s practically the same thing, just no sore boobs and massive weight gain. If you really want it though, we can try again, I mean third time’s the--.”
You’re promptly cut off when your wife crawls over to your side of the bed with a sigh. She straddles your lap before wrapping her arms around your neck with a smile. She kisses you once before she’s pulling away to meet your gaze.
“I love you, detka, and I want to have a baby with you. It makes no difference to me how it happens.”
You can’t help but smile at her answer, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. You hadn’t realized how much stress you were putting on yourself trying to get pregnant. You had wanted to do this for Wanda, for yourself because you did want children with her, but honestly this way will be easier. It will be stressful and a lengthy process, but it’s one where the both of you can work together to find an ideal match.
“I love you too. So much.”
You lean in to kiss the redhead again and your hands fall to her bare thighs as you pull her closer to you. When she gasps in surprise your tongue slips into her mouth and you moan at the taste of her. You’ve never been much of a fan of alcohol, but you’ll never tire of tasting it on your wife. She kisses you harder, her arms tightening around your neck before she pulls away just long enough to breathe.
“You still taste like weed.”
You smile at her sheepishly and Wanda’s frown falters at the sight. She rolls her eyes before sighing in defeat before you even apologize.
“I’m sorry my love. I’ll be sure to invite you next time.”
You can’t help but laugh as Wanda playfully slaps you on the arm. The two of you didn’t really do drugs. Outside of the rare times like tonight when you wanted to relax, or the very stressful nights Wanda’s had at work, the two of you had only gotten high together a handful of times. Most of these times were in college, and they just ended with you two having sex for hours on end. Marijuana made you both incredibly needy, and you know that Wanda was only pretending to be annoyed. She would do it with you again if you asked nicely enough.
You run your hands up and down Wanda’s legs as you start to kiss her neck. You love the way she still smells like her shampoo and how soft her skin is. You can and have spent hours just kissing your wife’s smooth skin, but tonight you had something else in mind. You groan as Wanda shifts restlessly in your lap. Her hips moving against yours makes you want to hurry this along.
Instead, you leave a bruising kiss at her pulse point that makes her gasp loudly. She presses her front to yours as her hips rock against yours.
“Shit, detka. Please.”
You sneak your hands under Wanda’s shorts and you feel her shudder at your touch. You smile against her neck before you start to kiss lower.
“Yes?”
You start to kiss down her collar bone and you grab the hem of her shirt before quickly pulling it over her head. Wanda looks gloriously mussed as she shoots you a desperate look. She can’t help but whine as one hand goes to her bare breast to tweak her nipple. She groans again before moving into your touch silently pleading for more.
“Touch me.”
You nearly groan at how turned on Wanda sounds. Her voice is rough and low and you have to remind yourself to take a breath before your hand leaves her shorts to tease her other breast. She leans into your touch, arching her back with a look of pure bliss on her face. She’s clearly enjoying it, but she wants more and you know it. You’re not giving in so easily though.
“Like this?”
You just watch as your wife’s eyes squeeze shut and she lets out a breathy gasp as you continue to pinch her nipples. She eventually manages to shake her head.
“No. More, I need more.”
You hum in acknowledgement but don’t hurry to give her what she wants. Instead, you drop both of your hands to pull your own shirt over your head. You take your time to reach out for her legs before dipping your head down to take a hardened bud into your mouth.
“Tell me what you want. How do you want me to touch you?”
Wanda’s too overwhelmed to answer immediately. She also isn’t sure what she wants more right now, your fingers or your mouth. She’d love both, but she knows what happens when she gets too greedy. You have to stop yourself from smiling as Wanda gasps loudly when you bite down – reminding her that you want an answer. She’s breathless as she finally manages to give you a response.
“Fuck me, please. I need your mouth.”
You smile wickedly before you meet your wife’s lips for a chaste kiss. You break away quickly as you move your hands down to her hips to remove her from your lap. You lay her on the bed against the pillows and meet her lips one more time.
“Anything for you.”
Wanda’s practically shaking in anticipation as you run your hands down her stomach to the waistband of her shorts. You don’t waste much time before taking them off leaving her bare. She squirms against the cold sheets before your hands fall to her hips to still her. You kiss her toned stomach and you both moan in unison as you run your fingers through her wet heat.
“Oh fuck!”
“God you’re so beautiful.”
You continue to tease Wanda until she’s nearly bucking her hips against your hand. You realize you’ve teased her enough and you’re certainly going to pay for this, so you decide to give her what she wants.
When your tongue first meets her soaked folds, Wanda cries out and grips the sheets beneath her fingers. She’s moaning loudly as you devour her like a starved woman. You have to hold her hips down as they buck against your face, and when your lips close around her clit, Wanda’s scream is muffled by her thighs closing around your head.
“Fuck, Y/n. Don’t stop, please.”
You can’t hear what she says, but you have no intention of stopping as your tongue continues to work against her. You take a deep breath, growing faint at the taste of your wife against your tongue. You groan as you double your efforts and leave Wanda shaking against you. The pressure in her lower stomach is building and she stiffens as her back arches off the bed in an attempt to get closer to your mouth.
Eventually you realize that Wanda’s close from how hard her thighs are shaking and how she’s gripping your hair. You smile as you tease her entrance with your fingers before pushing two into her. Your lips circle her clit and she’s screaming as her first orgasm washes over her. She’s cursing and squirming against you but you continue to thrust your fingers inside her once her high has passed.
“I’m gonna come again. Fuck, just like that!”
You smile as you curl your fingers deep inside her and suck her clit hard enough to make Wanda see stars. She comes hard, her hips bucking hard against your face as she’s nearly blinded by the force of her orgasm. She’s breathing heavily as she falls back to the bed and twitches from the aftershocks. Her insides are still squeezing your fingers, so you wait until her muscles relax before pulling out. Wanda groans at the feeling and then moans when she watches you stick your fingers into your mouth with a smile. You’ve always loved the taste of your wife, almost as much as you loved the way she looked at you at times like these.
“You’re so perfect.”
Wanda doesn’t get a chance to respond before you’re kissing her. She can taste herself on your tongue and she groans as you pull away from her and try to give her room to breathe. You lie down next to her watching as she eventually catches her breath. She’s sweating and you can’t help but groan as you reach out for her. You can’t keep your hands off of her, and Wanda can tell by just how eager you are that you’re still feeling the effects of the weed from earlier.
“Can you keep going?”
Wanda takes a deep shuddering breath as she tries to concentrate long enough to answer you. Your hands wander her flat stomach and creep up towards her chest. Your touches are meant to be teasing, but you quickly realize that you’re distracting your wife from answering. Much to both of your displeasure, you stop and give Wanda time to answer.
She immediately nods as she reaches out for you again, and you can’t help but smirk at her pleas.
“Yes please. Fuck me again.”
When you wake up the next morning you immediately curse yourself when you realize you have a headache. You’re parched but far too comfortable to get up right now and bother with getting a glass of water. You stifle a yawn as you pull your wife closer with a smile. She makes a noise of protest before she turns around in your arms so she’s facing you. She buries her face in your hair before she takes a deep breath and settles against you.
“Good morning, love.”
You can’t help but laugh when Wanda just grumbles something unintelligible into your neck. You know it’s early from the fact that the sun isn’t up yet, but you’re also certain that you won’t be going back to sleep. You’re cursed with the inability to fall back asleep once you’re awake, but you don’t mind lying in bed next to your wife as she drifts off.
Almost an hour later the sun is beginning to rise, and Wanda has shifted once again. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as she lifts her head off of your stomach with a small smile.
“Morning, detka.”
You smile back at her and sit up as Wanda stretches out with a groan.
“Morning sleepyhead.”
Wanda’s response is lost on you as the redhead drops the sheets around her and turns to look at the clock. You’re still staring at her when she turns back and she smirks at you before getting off the bed. It’s time for you to start getting ready for work, and Wanda unfortunately has some calls to prepare for.
“I’m going to shower, do you--?”
Wanda doesn’t even get to finish her question before you’re on your feet and lifting your wife into your arms. She yelps in surprise before holding onto you for dear life, not that she really needs to. You’re perfectly capable of carrying her much further than the five steps into the bathroom, and Wanda finds herself staring at your muscles as you cross the threshold.
“Do you even have to ask?”
Boone is waiting downstairs for you when you finally make it downstairs. You’d taken a longer shower than you should have because of course you got sidetracked. How could you not when Wanda was naked beside you? Either way, Boone is where he always waits for you: standing at the back door ready for his morning walk whining impatiently.
You leave Wanda with a quick kiss before you hurry to let your dog out while the redhead goes to the kitchen to make some coffee. It’s 5:30 and both of you desperately need the caffeine to get through today. Tuesdays are always busy at work for you, and you’ll need the energy to keep up. Wanda’s already running through a list of the things she needs to do when you return with Boone from the backyard. You hurry to feed the shepherd and Fletcher before making your way to the kitchen.
Wanda’s pouring you both cups of coffee when you come up behind her. She expects it and she melts into your embrace as your arms sneak around her waist. You kiss her hair before brushing it out of the way so you can kiss her neck. She’s about to complain because she’s still a little sore from where you’d left hickeys last night and this morning, but you pull away with a laugh.
“You missed a spot.”
Wanda’s quick to turn around and shoot you a glare as her hand goes up to where your lips had just been. She’d taken far too much time this morning covering up all of the marks you left on her with makeup, and now she had to do it again.
“You’re evil.”
You just laugh loudly before you take the offered cup with a sheepish smile.
“I’m sorry? I’ll cook you breakfast as an apology.”
Since you had a little more time this morning, you made breakfast for the two of you before taking it upstairs. You ate on the deck snuggled up next to each other under a blanket. You sipped your coffee and ate your eggs as you watched the sun rise higher in the sky. After you set your plate on the table in front of you and grab your coffee to warm your hands you turn to your wife with a curious look.
“What’s on your agenda for the day?”
You figure Wanda will have some work to do today. Despite being a lot less busy since moving here, she still had things to work out with Pietro and Nat. You remind yourself to ask Wanda if she’ll go with you to the compound on Saturday before you take another sip from your mug.
“Not much. I figure I’ll try to catch up with Clint and Kate to see how they’re doing.”
You nod at this before downing the rest of your coffee. You need to get ready for work soon, but you don’t want to leave your wife’s comforting presence. Despite her reputation as a terrifying criminal who took no shit, you knew Wanda to be one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. She’s loving and protective, sometimes to a fault, and she cares for her family above all else. You always feel safe with her because you know she’ll always have your back.
“Tell them I said, hi?”
Wanda smiles at this before nodding without much thought. She knew how much everyone missed you being around and she was excited for the possibility to visit later this week.
“Of course.”
You leave for work with Boone a little while later, leaving Wanda and her baby at the house. Sometimes you leave Boone at home, but some days when you know you’ll need a break or a pick me up, you take him with you. He’s well behaved and stays out of trouble for the most part, and he truly loves getting to ride in the car.
Wanda spends most of the day at home relaxing. She’s still decompressing after leaving her extremely stressful job, and sometimes she finds that she’s restless. She sometimes can’t stop texting or calling her brother to ask if there’s anything she can do to help. He usually reminds her that she’s retired before asking her why she can’t do anything fun with her newfound freedom.
With this in mind, she decides to stop thinking about work and heads upstairs to read a little. She lets Fletcher follow her outside despite her fear of the cat jumping down 2 stories before she settles in one of the couches with a sigh. She opens her book which ironically is a murder mystery you convinced her to read. You liked to read a lot of supernatural, crime thrillers and had only been recommending different books to her for years. This is probably the first one she’s picked up because she honestly hadn’t seen the appeal of reading about people getting brutally murdered when it happened at least once a week in her real life.
She’s almost half-way through the book when her phone rings. It’s too early for you to call, so she assumes it’s someone who’s going to pull her from her relaxation. She frowns at the caller ID before answering quickly. As much as she loved her friend, he rarely called her without a good reason.
“Steve, what’s happened?”
You’re as busy as you thought you’d be today. There have been a couple of emergencies that have come in, and being the only available doctor at the time, you’d jumped on them. Now you were juggling four cases while trying to figure out when you’d have a minute or two for lunch. You haven’t even walked Boone yet, but you knew he’d be fine for a little while longer. Honestly your priority was figuring out how to treat this cat whose bloodwork was all over the place.
You were thinking that he probably needed to be hospitalized and you were slightly worried about telling the owner this. He was already very cost-conscious and you couldn’t see him going for hospitalization for his cat that probably ate rat poison. You take a minute to go over your plan before you check in with your assistant to make sure the other cases are at least handled for now.
Once you get the go-ahead you decide that you can’t delay this conversation any further and you head back into the exam room.
“Did you figure out what’s wrong with my cat?”
You suppose there’s no easing into this and you have to remind yourself to not sigh as you start to explain what you found. You push down your anxiety as you watch him frown with each treatment option you mention. Hospitalization could be hundreds of dollars and given how you’ve only been able to do an exam and bloodwork today, you know he’s not going to do this.
“It’s going to be difficult for her to recover from this without prolonged treatment.”
That was really all there was to it. He’s waited too long to bring her in and now she was near death and he didn’t have the money to help her. You’d consider covering the cost if he didn’t get so upset at you. He stood up quickly at what you were implying, and it takes all of your resolve not to take a step back.
“So, what are you saying? Are you just going to let her die?”
You shake your head ignoring his anger as you think about what the next best option is for this cat. You’re getting a bit of a headache from today’s events but you push it aside in hopes of getting this over with.
“There are several medications we can send home with you if you choose not to have her hospitalized. They just might not be enough in her case.”
The sound of him banging his fist on the metal table causes you to jump, and you’re certain other people throughout the hospital hear it. You hold your position somehow, not even shifting as you eye him questioningly. He’s scowling and looks like he wants to spit obscenities at you, but luckily, he sticks to just one.
“That’s bullshit!”
You open your mouth to respond that no, it is in fact not bullshit, but you didn’t get a chance. There was a knock on the door behind you and it opened before you could say anything. Your assistant stuck her head and shot you a questioning look that was clearly directed toward the client.
“Everything okay in here Dr. Y/L/N?”
It’s obviously not, but you appreciate the interruption because it seems that the man across from you realizes that he needs to calm down. He’s not going to benefit from blowing up at you and not getting his cat treated. Eventually you nod and your assistant disappears again, but you have a feeling she didn’t go far. You wait for him to reach a decision and you have to stop yourself from running out of the room when he finally speaks.
“Can I get the name of that hospital again?”
You nod and tell him how to get to the emergency hospital before you leave to grab his cat for him. You sigh in relief once you’re out of earshot and in the treatment area.
“Everything work out, okay?”
You turn to your assistant, Amina with a small smile before you nod in confirmation. You ask her to take Frosty back to his dad, but you make sure to let her know not to linger.
“Yes, thank you. Would you mind taking Frosty to him? He’s headed to emergency hospital.”
Once she’s gone you return your attention to your other three cases. One is stable and you’re just waiting to hear from his owner, and the other two are appointments that you’re super late getting to. You sigh as you check your watch. 12:30.
It’s going to be a long day.
Pietro Maximoff was about to take his lunch when the delivery came. He’d been swamped meeting with business owners who had concerns or complaints, and he’d just returned to his office. He’d be suspicious of the timing when he thought about it later, but as he walked into his office, he didn’t get to shut his door before his assistant Luce was calling out to him.
“Mr. Maximoff! You have a delivery.”
Pietro can’t help but roll his eyes as he meets the blonde at the door. He’s a little caught off guard by the appearance of a large bouquet of flowers, but he’ll worry about that in a second.
“What have I told you Luce? Call me Piet. I don’t have a stick up my ass like my sister.”
Luce of course doesn’t know how to respond to this and she’s left sputtering as Pietro takes the flowers with a quick thank you. He’s left alone to admire the beautiful arrangement of roses and lilies and wonder who they are from. He briefly considers that his sister sent them, but quickly disregards this thought. He sets the vase on his desk before he looks for a card. It’s hidden in the middle of the arrangement making it a pain in the ass to get to, but once Pietro finds it, he frowns.
To Ms. Wanda Maximoff.
It has come to my attention that you recently decided to retire from your family’s business. I would like to meet and discuss the potential for us to continue working together.
- B W v Strucker
Pietro scowls as he reads the note and he’s about to tear it up when he realizes his sister might want to read it. He sighs heavily as he considers his options before sitting behind his desk. He stares at the flowers and suddenly hates the sight of them because of who they’re from.
Strucker has always been a pain in Pietro’s ass since he’d cut ties with his parents. They’d worked together years and years ago, but after they’d gone their separate ways and he’d started his own business, they’d become rivals. They’d been negotiating territory and terms of agreement for years. Wanda had handled all of that and Pietro hadn’t realized how easily she’d managed him until now.
He rarely remembered hearing about Strucker in the past year or so outside of him continuing to stick to their agreement. If anything, Wanda was the one who was pushing him as she slowly but surely encroached upon his side of town.
Pietro pulls out his phone and calls the first number in his contacts. He waits for only two rings before the other man picks up.
“Hey Steve. What’s my sister up to?”
You’re sitting outside in the yard with Boone for the first break you’ve had all day. You’d just finished up with your appointments for the morning, and had a total of 15 minutes before your next one was due to show up. You sigh as you throw a tennis ball to the shepherd who just stands in front of you expectantly.
You think back to the upset client you’d had this morning and how you had been almost certain that you’d have to have someone show him out. You felt bad for him because his cat was dying and despite spending a small fortune at another hospital, might still end up dying. You understood how emotions could get out of control when people’s pets were concerned, but that didn’t excuse his behavior this morning.
You wondered what you would have done if he’d lashed out again, but your thoughts are cut off by Boone’s return. He gets in your face and drops the wet tennis ball in your lap again and you just sigh. You hope that you can finish the rest of the day without anything too interesting happening.
Wanda hadn’t expected to hear from her brother today. As far as she knew he was busy working and wouldn’t have time to chat with her until their weekly get together. She was still trying to figure out how she felt about Strucker’s message, and more importantly if she was going to humor him with a visit.
She hadn’t met with him for months, and that was mostly to smooth things over when she’d gone a little too far pushing his boundaries. Despite their complicated history, the older man liked Wanda, or at least he respected her enough to acknowledge her authority. He would let her get away with things without realizing it and suddenly he’d be blindsided by how large of an effect it had on his business. She hadn’t done anything new recently so she wasn’t sure why he wanted to meet. His note indicated that he just wanted to talk about continuing business, but why he couldn’t talk to Pietro about that she wasn’t sure.
She sighed as she leaned back against the cushions while looking up at Steve. He’d come over to explain what happened and now she was trying to figure out if she needed to make a trip into town tonight. She hated to do it and with so little notice, but she had figured something like this would happen. She had a feeling Strucker wouldn’t just ignore her absence, and this was honestly not a bad way to have to address it. At least he didn’t seem angry about it, for now that is.
“What do you think I should do, Steve?”
The blonde in front of her takes a moment to think about it before he just sighs in defeat. He sits down across from Wanda who’s petting her sleeping cat with a contemplative look. She knows what she wants to do, but it never hurts to get a second opinion. Especially if her decision means missing dinner with you.
Steve rubs a hand over his face with a groan. He’s always hated Strucker and never understood how Wanda could work with him after what happened between them. He was responsible for her parents’ deaths whether he admitted it or not, but Wanda didn’t let this stop her from forming a business relationship with him.
“I don’t think you should go. He’s just going to do his usual schmoozing and just try and get your help with something.”
Wanda’s slightly surprised by this response, but she doesn’t comment on it immediately. She appreciates it when people are upfront with her because it so rarely happens to her anymore. She’d always been told what she wanted to hear and could only trust those close enough to her to tell her how it is.
She thinks about what Steve said and realizes that there is clearly an ulterior motive to this meeting, she just doesn’t know what it is. She wonders how she can go about figuring this out without meeting with him, but she also realizes it doesn’t really matter. If she’s trying to leave Pietro in charge of things, she can’t meet with Strucker in any capacity right now. He needs to understand that the power has shifted to her brother and if he wants to talk business, he needs to see Pietro.
“I think you’re right. After all, if he wants to talk business, he can see Piet.”
Steve nearly sighs in relief but he just nods before he starts to stand. He stops halfway before he eyes Wanda with a raised eyebrow.
“How would you like to tell him that?”
Wanda sighs at the thought of having to make this call, but she doesn’t hesitate to sit up and grab her phone off the table. She unfortunately has Strucker’s number and she’s dialing it before Steve can even excuse himself. Wanda shakes her head silently requesting that he stay as she waits for the older man to answer.
“Am I truly getting a call from Wanda Maximoff herself?”
Wanda nearly rolls her eyes at this as she looks to Steve before lying back once again. Fletcher’s fled from her lap and is making her way over to the blonde who has ignored her up until this point. They have a love hate relationship because usually when he shows up, her favorite person leaves.
“Well, it seemed rude not to respond to the message you sent, Strucker.”
The older man laughs loudly as he takes another drag from his cigarette. He’d been in the middle of something important, but when he saw who was calling, he knew he had to answer. He eyes the slightly squirrely man in front of him who has only grown more agitated once he answered the phone.
“Have you called to schedule a meeting then?”
Wanda shakes her head before she sighs in annoyance. She was supposed to be taking it easy today, not dealing with whatever Strucker wanted from her.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to call Pietro if you want to talk business. As you said, I’m taking a step back from it.”
There’s a long uncomfortable pause over the line as Wanda waits for Strucker to respond. He’s staring intently at the blonde in front of him trying to figure out how he’ll be of use to him, but Wanda doesn’t realize this. She thinks he’s going to complain, which he is, but not to the degree that she suspects for the length of awkward silence.
“That’s disappointing to hear. I was hoping I’d get to see the new place, and meet the wife finally.”
Wanda’s jaw clenches when he mentions you, but she doesn’t take the bait. Instead, she smiles and shakes her head and sticks to her decision.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I won’t be available to talk anytime soon.”
When they hang up the phone Wanda’s left a little annoyed and confused. She’s not sure what they accomplished with that phone call because she still didn’t know why Strucker wanted to see her. He hadn’t contradicted her statement of ‘talking business’, so she assumes that’s what he wanted. She’s not entirely sure, but she doesn’t feel like wasting any more time on it.
“That was unproductive. I don’t think anything’s going to come from it.”
Strucker on the other hand smiles as he eyes Vision curiously. He’s going to help bring Wanda back to the forefront of her business, and he knows just the way to do it.
“I’m going to need you to move ahead with our plan a little earlier than scheduled.”
You arrive home to the smell of dinner cooking and the sound of soft music playing throughout the house. Both the food and the classical music immediately calm your frayed nerves and you feel your aching muscles sag in relaxation. You could fall asleep right now. You eye the couch longingly, but you know that you will be far more comfortable in bed.
“Wands?”
You watch as Boone high tails it to the kitchen to see if he can get any scraps, and you smile widely when Wanda appears around the corner. You don’t notice her smile disappear as you drop your bag on a nearby chair before heading towards her.
“Long day, detka?”
You nod as you practically fall into your wife’s arms with a sigh. You take comfort in Wanda’s presence and you stay wrapped in her arms just breathing her in for a few minutes before you manage to pull away. You’ll talk about your day a little later, but right now you really want to eat.
“How was your day, love?”
You watch as Wanda considers skipping over the interesting part of her day, but she eventually just shrugs. She leads you back to the kitchen because she can tell you’re starving, and sits you down at the counter as she finishes making you a plate.
“It was interesting. I needed to remind some people of what the word ‘retirement’ means.”
You laugh at this as you take the food Wanda offers you before following her to the nearest table. You wait until she sits down across from you to start eating, and of course at that point Boone has also settled right beside you. You ignore him for now and focus on your wife who’s watching you carefully.
You’d clearly had a long day. You looked exhausted and Wanda could tell how you were sitting that you were very tense. She made a mental note to fix this later, but for now she wanted to hear about the details of your day.
“Did anything interesting happen at work?”
You take another bite and use that time to figure out how to explain today’s dumpster fire. You sit up slightly before offering a smile that your wife could tell wasn’t very sincere.
“Well other than having a client yell at me, I had a hectic schedule allowing for a 10-minute break, and oh also this.”
You push up the sleeve of your sweatshirt and show Wanda the long angry red marks on your arm. You’d been clawed by a cat because she’d gotten loose while you were vaccinating her and she’d wanted to show you how much she didn’t appreciate it.
Wanda’s frown deepens as she eyes the painful looking scratches. She makes another note to have you take care of those after dinner. She’s currently fixated on what you said about someone yelling at you though.
“Someone was upset with you?”
You put down your fork, having already finished eating despite only being at the table for 5 minutes before you nod. You think about the client in question and how you still felt bad for him despite how horribly he handles situations. You’d actually mentioned his temperament when you’d called ahead to the referral hospital. You didn’t want anyone else getting caught off guard.
“Yeah, he didn’t have a lot of money or options and grew frustrated. I was the easiest target.”
Wanda knows all too well how this works. She’s been on both ends of this situation before and despite not liking the idea of you facing upset, angry people, she knows you can take care of yourself. She watches you head back to the kitchen after you excuse yourself to get more food. Boone is quick to follow you and Wanda returns her attention to her food for only a second before she hears her phone ring. She groans in annoyance and you can’t help but sigh too as you look around for the device. It’s in the kitchen but you’re not quite sure where until Wanda speaks up.
“It’s on the stool behind the counter, I can--.”
She trails off when you shake your head and hurry to retrieve it. You glance at the caller ID before nearly sighing again.
“It’s Vision.”
You watch Wanda roll her eyes before shaking her head. It’s dinner time and he honestly doesn’t have anything too important to share with her. She’s almost certain of this and she shakes her head before motioning for you to come back.
“Leave it. I’m not talking to him tonight.”
You can’t help but laugh at her distaste for the older man. It’s only been a constant in your relationship with your wife. Some times were worse than others, and especially in the beginning when he was so persistent, but most days she barely had enough patience to tolerate a conversation with him. It didn’t help that he was a liaison for all of their associates and she had to talk to him regularly. She’s just glad that since she’s gotten married, he’d stopped flirting with her so blatantly.
“I won’t complain about that.”
Wanda smiles at you as you sit back down across from her, and you two resume your dinner.
About an hour later, once the animals are all taken care of, and you’re both showered, you address the open wounds on your arm. They aren’t deep, just long and in an awkward place for you to bandage. You begin applying antibiotic ointment to your entire forearm when Wanda returns with supplies to help you wrap it.
She sits down in front of you waiting as you finish up before she takes over.
“Here, let me.”
You hold your arm out for Wanda to carefully place the gauze and then wrap it up nice and tight so it doesn’t slip off. You lean in to kiss her gratefully when she’s done. You groan slightly as you shake your shoulders out in an attempt to get more comfortable. You miss Wanda’s look as she moves to stand up again once you’re settled.
“Detka, lie down on your stomach I want to try something.”
You only hesitate for a moment as you try to put together what Wanda’s thinking. You realize why she’s asking this of you and you’d be lying if you didn’t say you’d thought about this at some point today. Still you shoot her a questioning look before you shift slightly in preparation to accommodate her.
“Are you sure, Wands? You don’t have to.”
She just smiles at you before nodding and you sigh in anticipation of the relief you’re going to feel before doing as you’re told.
You move to the middle of the bed before rolling over and lying on your stomach. You groan at the stretch in your back before you lay your head down on your pillow. You listen to Wanda get back on the bed and come up behind you. She reaches out for you with a smile watching as you squirm impatiently. You’re always so restless.
Wanda straddles your waist, keeping her weight off of you as she goes directly for your shoulders. She smiles as you groan at the feeling of her fingers working your stiff muscles. You cringe slightly but eventually release a sigh when as the pressure dissipates when your wife pushes a little harder.
You groan again as you shift beneath the redhead as she moves down your back. Your back cracks in multiple places as Wanda puts a lot of her weight onto you, and you can’t help the near obscene noises that leave you.
“Shit, that’s amazing. Ugh.”
When Wanda reaches your lower back, you reach behind you to try and push your shirt out of the way. You want to feel Wanda’s hands on your skin, and luckily, she realizes what you have in mind.
“We probably should have taken this off first.”
Wanda chuckles as she says this and you only respond with a sigh of defeat. You suppose you didn’t think this all the way through. You just nod before bracing your hands by your sides and preparing to push up, but Wanda stops you with a hand on your shoulder.
“It’s okay, Y/n. I’ll take care of it.”
You feel Wanda pull your shirt up and you raise your arms above your head to help her pull it off. She tosses it aside before retuning her attention to your lower back. You’ve always had trouble with your back whenever you had to sit for extended periods of time. When Wanda had first met you when you were still studying to be a vet, you’d had a lot of bouts of pain from all the time you’d spent in the classroom. You had fond memories of all of the massages Wanda had given you then as well. They all made you feel much better, and most of them ended with you falling asleep.
You could feel your eyelids grow heavy as Wanda finished up with your shoulders again. She could tell that your breathing was evening out, and from how relaxed you were sleep was just around the corner. Wanda smiles at you lovingly before she moves off of you and the bed altogether.
She grabs a blanket from the closet and spreads it over you before kissing your cheek. You mumble something unintelligible as Wanda turns off the light and gets into bed beside you.
“I love you so much.”
When you wake up next, it’s still dark out, and it takes you a moment to figure out why you’re awake. You groan in annoyance before rolling over and looking at the clock. It’s only 3am, and you are thoroughly pissed at being woken up. The sound of a phone ringing finally registers as you realize Wanda is sitting up to hopefully silence the offending device.
Wanda doesn’t even look to see who’s calling. She’s still half asleep, but she’s quickly wide awake when she hears a familiar voice.
“Hello?”
Wanda listens carefully as Steve tells her what happened earlier tonight. A deal had gone south and the police had confiscated close to $50k worth of product. That would be annoying enough, but Nat had been there when shit hit the fan, and she’d ended up getting shot.
“Is she alright? Where is she now?”
You sit up when you hear how concerned you wife sounds. You feel your anxiety skyrocket when you consider who could have gotten hurt enough to warrant a call at 3am. You wait anxiously for Wanda to listen to what she’s being told, and you feel yourself relax when she eventually sighs in relief.
“Well tell her she’s very lucky, and that I’ll see her first thing tomorrow.”
You wait until Wanda’s hung up the phone before you ask what you’re dying to know. Your wife turns to you with a sigh before she explains to you what happened. It’s still dark out and she can barely see you, but the light from her phone is enough to illuminate your worried expression.
“What happened, Wanda? Who’s hurt?”
Wanda reaches out for you to help ground you before she leads with the important part.
“It’s a minor injury, but Nat was shot during a deal tonight.”
You immediately stiffen at this and you’re already thinking about when you’ll leave. You need to talk to Yelena because she’s certainly worried, and then you need to visit her. And Natasha. Wanda squeezes your hand because she can tell you’re thinking a mile a minute, and she hopes that she can calm your nerves.
“She’s going to be fine, detka. Knowing her she’ll be out of the hospital before we even get to visit her.”
You nod at this before you try to take a couple calming breaths. You hate the idea of any of your friends getting hurt, but Nat’s family and the idea of losing her makes you panic. You remind yourself that she’s going to be fine. Probably insufferably cocky later this week when she can still lay you out on the mat. You make a note to visit her as soon as you can.
Eventually you nod before lying back down to go to sleep. Wanda doesn’t even make it that far before you bolt back up and grab your phone from the bedside table. You text Yelena asking how she and Nat are before you lie down next to you wife.
“Can we visit her before I go to work?”
Wanda nods before she places her own phone away from her. She’s not sure she’ll be able to go back to bed, but she needs to at least try. She’s already considering different possibilities of how this could have happened. It had been a long time since the cops had caught on to her dealings. Everyone she worked with was more careful than that, and the fact that it was Nat who was caught in the crossfire makes her even more suspicious.
Nat’s one of the most paranoid people she knows and the fact that she was caught tonight wasn’t a coincidence. Someone had screwed up. She needs to talk to Pietro tomorrow after visiting Nat.
Wanda turns toward you to try and bring you closer to her, but she sees you texting frantically on your phone. She figures that Yelena has responded, and she doesn’t have to wait long for an explanation.
“Yelena says she’ll keep Nat there for as long as she can, but that we’ll probably need to visit first thing because you know how Nat is.”
Wanda nods at this, still a little lost in her thoughts about tonight. It’s your turn to pull her from them as you reach out for your wife with a smile. You sigh in relief that this could have been far worse, that it was Nat who was the toughest person you know. You’re glad to have Wanda here in bed with you instead of out there at risk.
“Let’s try to sleep? We can scold them both later.”
As expected, neither of you slept soundly for the few hours that you had before it was a reasonable time to visit your friend. You tossed and turned as you had nightmares while Wanda had been plagued by thoughts of who could have slipped up. She’s quick to jump out of bed when the clock finally turns to 6am. You’re a little less enthusiastic, but you realize that you’re not getting any more sleep so you eventually pull yourself out of bed too.
“I’ll go start the coffee.”
Wanda smiles before she heads to the bathroom to get ready for what is sure to be a stressful day for the both of you. She mutters a thank you as you leave and hurry downstairs as quickly as you can while not caffeinated. You find Boone waiting for you in his usual spot. Despite loving to be around you as much as possible, Boone was a guard dog first and he rarely slept upstairs in the bedroom with you. You sometimes dragged him in there and he stayed after whining for a little bit, but most of the time he was downstairs keeping watch, or somewhere on the second floor. You’ve almost tripped on him in the past when you’ve come out of the bedroom first thing in the morning.
“Morning my baby boy.”
You scratch him behind his ears and kiss his head before you move toward the kitchen. You stifle a yawn as you grab the coffee and start to set it up. You’re thinking about what you can make for a quick breakfast when you’re interrupted by the doorbell. You jump almost a foot into the air and you curse under your breath as you spill the creamer you’d just grabbed. You don’t have much time to wonder who the hell was ringing your doorbell so early before you hear Wanda call from upstairs.
“It’s Steve and Bucky! I called them over.”
You relax at this before heading to the front door where Boone is already waiting. He’s staring out the window at the two men who just smile at him while they wait. You open the door with a tired smile before you wave the duo in.
“Morning guys. This is a surprise.”
Bucky smiles sheepishly while Steve looks apologetic as he greets Boone who’s quick to jump up on him. Bucky shuts the door behind him before offering an explanation for their presence not that he really needed to. You figured you knew why they were here.
“Wanda figured that if we were all going to visit Nat anyway, we might as well go together.”
You nod at this before waving the two men toward the kitchen. The smell of coffee brewing had certainly already caught their attention, and now you had a better excuse to make a decent breakfast.
“Sounds good to me. As long as Bucky is the one who drives.”
You hear the brunette laugh while Steve scowls at your criticism. It’s well-known among them that Steve drives far too slowly for your liking. If you had your way, you would drive everywhere at least 10 over, but Wanda didn’t let you drive much for this exact reason.
“Hey now. Some of us like to follow the law.” 
You laugh loudly at this as you grab two more mugs and pour them both a cup of coffee. You set it on the counter in front of them before going to grab the creamer you dropped and sugar. You remember that you haven’t walked Boone yet when he comes to sit in front of you and whine.
“I need to walk Boone real quick, but once I come back I’ll make breakfast.”
Steve is quick to put down his mug and shake his head at you. He’s more than happy to walk Boone while you get started on breakfast. Not only does he get to eat sooner, but this way you don’t get sent outside in the dark.
“I can do it. Bucky can help cook.”
You are about to argue but the brunette is already rounding the counter toward the fridge so you just nod in acceptance.
“Thanks, you two. Bucky can you grab the eggs and bacon?”
When Wanda makes it downstairs, you’re almost done cooking and you appear to be laughing at Steve’s expense. She watches as the blonde tries to get Boone to do a trick for a piece of bacon but he’s being very uncooperative. Steve eventually gives up and throws the bacon in the air for Boone to catch. You shake your head in mock disapproval.
“You spoil him. Now he knows he can get away with not listening to you.”
You realize you’re being slightly hypocritical because you are also a major pushover for your dog. That said, when it really matters, you know that he’ll listen to you and Wanda, hell even the two sitting across from you. You watch as Steve opens his mouth to argue, but he quickly shuts it when he realizes he can’t deny what you said. You’re about to comment when you feel arms wrap around your waist and you turn to see Wanda smiling at you in amusement.
“Like you’re not a total pushover for him too, Y/n.”
You scowl in faux annoyance before trying to shake your wife off. She holds you tighter like you’d wanted her to before she kisses your hair and then neck in apology.
“I know, I know. Whatever.”
Wanda laughs at you before releasing you so you can finish your breakfast. You hand her a plate and a cup of coffee before turning your attention back to your food.
“Thanks for coming over you two. I know it’s early.”
They both just shake their head before claiming that it’s fine. They had been planning on visiting Nat, and hearing that Wanda planned to do the same before you had to go to work was just an excuse to get up earlier. It also saved them a trip since they would have tagged along anyway, just as more of a security detail than friends.
“Not a problem. We need to figure out how Nat let herself get shot.”
Bucky says this as a joke, but at least Wanda and Steve know that he’s being serious. He’s not sure if you catch on. You’re focusing on your food and Boone who’s pawing at your leg. The three of them seemed to jumped to the same conclusion about the incident. After Wanda talks to Pietro and they all talk to Nat, hopefully they’ll have a better idea of what happened.
Once everyone’s finished eating, Y/n runs upstairs to get dressed while Steve runs Boone outside again. Wanda and Bucky wait until they hear you close the door upstairs before turning back to each other.
“So what were you able to find out so far?”
Bucky sighs as he recounts what Clint had told him earlier this morning. He’d also been present and he’d been the one to drag Nat out of there and get her sent to the hospital instead of prison.
“Clint thinks that the cops were there the whole time. They just waited for money to exchange hands before intervening.”
Wanda frowns at this as she considers the significance of this. Clearly Bucky and Steve had come to the same conclusion because the brunette just nods in response to what she says.
“Someone set them up.”
Steve returns first and he immediately notices the tense atmosphere that had settled during his absence. He watches a dark expression pass over Wanda’s face as she considers punishment for whoever was responsible. He hears a door open upstairs so he speaks just loudly enough for Wanda to hear.
“We’ll figure out who’s responsible, Wanda. I swear it.”
She just nods in return before she hears you running down the stairs. She’s always hated how you take them two at a time, but since you’d only fallen once or twice, she didn’t have enough of an argument to make you stop. Your face is slightly flushed and you have you bag and keys in your hand like you’re about to go to work. You look between the trio and it only takes you a second to realize you missed something. You’re not bothered by this right now. You’ll figure out from your wife later.
“I figured we take two cars so I can stay for as long as possible before going to work.”
They all nod as they figure out whose car they’re going to take. Steve walks towards you with his hand out but you just shake your head before clutching your keys to your chest.
“No way, grandpa. I’m driving.”
Part 3
235 notes · View notes
creativepawsworld · 2 years
Text
Silence Chapter 2
Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Original Character
Summary = Arriving at the Betting Shop on Watery Lane is overwhelmingly intimidating for Anastasia, feeling lost and out of place she attracts the attention of a certain Shelby brother.
Warnings = Gambling
Word Count = 2591
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Wrapping the beige coloured coat tighter around myself to protect from the cold wind, I couldn’t believe what I was doing, I was willingly walking into a lion’s den, a street I had chosen to avoid for the last ten years of my life. As a child I used to play in this street with a friend, Anabelle Winters whether it was with our dolls or our skipping rope we were always together. One day her sister told us to play somewhere else as the children of the Shelby family, especially Thomas threatened to put gypsy curses on whoever he didn’t like or who looked at him the wrong way. We didn’t want to be cursed so we started playing outside my home in Marshwood Croft a few streets away just to be safe. As children we believed in curses, in witchcraft and the bogeyman it was all things our parents warned us about to keep us safe despite its deceptive nature and it worked.
We grew closer as we grew older but by the time, we reached the sweet age of 18 in 1912, Anabelle died of consumption. Her death hit me hard as apart from my brother she was the only friend I had, Birmingham was a big city, but Small Heath was a tiny town in comparison.
My parents were looked down on for being different because of what they did for a living. Instead of working in factories or cleaning houses. They were seen to have a cushiony life, surrounding by fabrics all day. However, this wasn't the case, we struggled just like everyone else around here but just because my father didn’t come home covered in soot, dirt and grime it just wasn’t the same.
The grasp on my coat loosed slightly when I realised, I wasn’t wearing the appropriate footwear for these streets. My main concern was not to step in any dirty, sooty puddles and soak my feet. Wearing my simple black T-bar kitten heeled shoe, the only shoes I owned as I never had to go far, mostly to the shop and back home. That was my life, I never needed another pair.
This was a onetime thing; I would go and place the bet for my brother to help him as he was desperate. I never seen him so bad. I just prayed to God he got the correct tip regarding the horse this time.
Shortly after Anabelle's death I became aware of my brothers' gambling issues. He got a few lucky bets with the horses at first, suddenly he started to feel untouchable until he lost his first bet. It was a sizeable loss, but he shook it off. It wouldn't happen again, until the next. The biggest bet he encountered was with Arthur Shelby. I truly believed in my heart that after the vicious beating he received, he would be done with gambling. That would be the end of it.
Clearly, I was wrong.
Stepping into Watery Lane I inhaled deeply, the memories of Anabelle came flooding back to me as I looked down at her door, I wondered who lived there now as after her death Anabelle’s parents and siblings moved out of the street and to Southampton for better opportunities, but I believe they simply didn’t want to be around so many memories of their daughter.
Shaking the thoughts from my head I looked towards the other side of Watery Lane. I knew the Shelby’s practically owned ever home on this side, enough for each sibling to call their own and at least another two for their betting shop. Rumours were always riff around Small Heath, so it wasn’t hard keeping tabs on the family you wanted to avoid. Taking my time, my heels clicked on the path as I walked down the lane hoping to find the right door belonging to the betting shop but not one stood out from the next.
“Great” I huffed to myself as I walked to the end of the street. Looking around me the street wasn’t quiet but it wasn’t busy either so I decided to stand for a moment watching to see if anybody would walk in or rather out of the betting shop.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only five minutes a man covered in black soot, a potential factory worker walked towards a door in the middle of the row only to reappear a few moments later, a white betting slip in his hand he was clutching it tightly to his chest, kissing it and offering it above his head before tucking it safely in the inside pocket of his jacket.
Nodding and convincing myself I could do this I began walking in the direction the man had disappeared then reappeared again, standing outside a black door. Inhaling once more I was about to step forward when another man appeared, hurrying out of the shop and down the street. In that instant I knew I was at the right place; I held the door open with my hand peering inside. It looked chaotic.
People were everywhere, smoke was everywhere I was surprised people knew where they were going, the place was completely overcrowded. There were only a few desks were people sat to take the money and bets. Further down towards the back of the room was a staircase, and on the backwall a blackboard. There a man wearing a tailored suit stood people shouting at him, and he them as he wrote the odds against the horse's names on the board with chalk. Just off centre of the room was a cage, an actual cage with a desk, I assume that is where the counting of the money happened at least several times a day considering the amount of money that appeared to be sitting on the desk and it wasn't even lunchtime yet.
“Now, you look like you are in the wrong place.” A deep voice spoke from behind me while I continued to look around the shop. Freezing as the words left his mouth, I swallowed and held my head high, it was time to be brave I thought to myself. I turned on my heel ready to confront whoever was talking to me but once my eyes locked onto a pair of crystal, blue eyes my bravado faltered. My heart began beating wildly in my chest, my palms became sweaty, my mouth dry as I got lost in what was the most beautiful colour I had ever seen. “Are you lost Miss?” The man spoke again seemingly breaking me from the trance like state his eyes held over me.
“Oh my, I do apologise for being so rude.” I reply softly looking away from his eyes, only to take in his haircut, long at the top but shaved in at the sides. Travelling down to his sharp jawline, to his white collared shirt with light blue lines running down his toned chest only to disappear behind a tweed grey waist coat which was accessorised with a golden pocket watch. Taking in his appearance it became obvious, I was standing before a Shelby.
“That’s quite alright but you didn’t answer my question” He responded, my eyes going straight to his pink full lips, watching the words fall from his lips as he spoke.
“No, no I’m not lost Mr Shelby.” I answer with a small shake of my head. “In fact, I am here to place a bet on a horse.” I tell him looking over his shoulder and back towards the back of the room where the blackboard was located trying to remind the name of the horse my brother had given me.
“Is that so?” I heard him chuckle mainly to himself rather to me. It wasn’t common for women to makes bets so I suppose I could understand his humour. “And what horse would the lady be betting on today then, eh?” He asked stepping into my eyeline so I could no longer see the blackboard only those majestic blue eyes that stole my breath once again.
“Well, it's not really my bet Mr Shelby so I would have to say none” I tell him only to see his eyebrow furrow in confusion. Hadn't I just told him I was going to make a bet? Why else would I be standing in his betting shop, guinea in hand if I wasn't making a bet. “The bet is for my brother, Mr Shelby” I clarify for him, once the words settled in his mind, I heard him click his tongue before looking down at the money in my hand.
“And what horse does he want you to put this on then eh?” He asked reaching up and taking the guinea from my hand slowly, his fingers grazing my own as if they would break if he pressed too hard. Once the money was fully in his grasp, he tossed it towards a worker who I hadn’t even realised was watching the entire exchange between us. When I didn’t answer his question, he tilted his head softly to the side, a smirk threatening to spill onto his lips only he fought against it, his stoic face remaining.
“Oh, um, it was the horse Monaghan Boy” I tell the worker with a soft smile as I looked down at him. He seemed almost nervous taking the bet and I didn’t blame him; I wouldn’t like having my boss standing over me as he watched me work. never mind a Shelby. Although, Mr Shelby wasn't watching him, his fierce stare remained on me as I spoke to his employee. “Please.” I tell him hoping this situation would be over quickly. Just as he was about to write the horses name on the betting slip, Mr Shelby simply stopped him with a wave of his hand.
“Put down Maid of Arms, Harry” Mr Shelby spoke continuing to look at me rather than to his employee Harry, hearing what he had to say I immediately snapped my head towards him, it was my turn to be confused.
“Excuse me Mr Shelby, but I believe I made a bet for Monaghan Boy, not Maid of Arms.” I tell him completely taken back by his complete dismissal in my choice of horse but once the words left my mouth, I couldn’t believe what I had said. I was about to apologise for the rude outburst when Mr Shelby gave me a small smile, a flicker of excitement flashed in his eyes before quickly dissipating.
“And I’m telling you to change your horse to Maid of Arms” He returned standing tall, his shoulders back, hands clasp together in front of his waist. “Is that a problem for you?” He asked, almost encouraging me to talk back to him but I was already rude to the man twice in one visit did I really want to push it to a third.
“No Mr Shelby” I swallowed back what I wanted to say, my eyes focusing on the T-Bar shape on my shoe, mentally cursing myself for not having a backbone.
“Good, it’s a stronger horse than Monaghan Boy, less odds but better chance of winning, trust me.” Mr Shelby spoke up, his voice bringing my attention back to his face the stoic expression returning to his features. Sighing I felt myself nodding as I looked towards Harry ready to take the betting slip from his hands only it was intercepted by the man in front of me. “Good luck Miss…” He trailed off holding the slip in front of me to take.
“Adler, Miss Adler” I reply reaching up, taking the slip from his hand, never once breaking eye contact until the slip was firmly in my grasp. "Good day Mr Shelby.” I tell him turning on my heel and walking out of the shop and into Watery Lane.
A strange feeling overcame me as I left the shop, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was most definitely a happy feeling, a content feeling. Whatever it was, the feeling was new to me, and it was Mr Shelby that had brought it out on me. If I didn’t know first-hand what the Shelby family were capable of, I would have believed that the rumours and stories were all smoke but no flames. For the second time today, I had to shake the thoughts from my head, entering my family home where my brother was pacing the living room anxiously, awaiting my return.
“Did you get it?” He asked once he noticed I entered the home, rushing towards me to take the slip from my hand. “Maid of Arms? Ana, I told you Monaghan Boy. Maid of Arms has zero chance of winning what have you done?” He asked panic rising in his eyes as he looked between my face and the slip in his hand.
“I tried to put a bet on Monaghan Boy, but Mr Shelby stopped the bet before it could proceed.” I tell him, hanging my coat on the coat rack in the hall. Walking towards the small two seat sofa and taking a seat waiting for the twenty question I knew would be on his tongue at the mention of a Shelby.
“Mr Shelby took the bet?” James asked rushing to my side, sitting next to me. “It wasn’t Arthur, was it? Did he know it was for me?”
“It was a Shelby brother, I recognised the suit that dad made last month but I’m not sure which brother it was. I saw two of them I think but no he didn’t take the bet. He made the bet for me with your money.”
“What did he look like?” James asked rushed, his eyes almost coming out from their sockets as I told him what had happened only moments ago. “If it was Arthur he would fuck me over just to get more money out of me, Ana tell me it wasn’t Arthur.”
“I don’t know James” I tell him getting frustrated. I knew of the Shelby brothers, but I didn’t know what each individual brother looked like. I was a recluse since Anabelle died, spending my days at home or working, maybe the odd walk around the street, that was it.
“It was probably John; he always works in the morning. Yeah, if it was John, we will be okay. He is the decent brother, the human brother… wait you said there was two of them?" My brother started talking to himself, it was clear the attack Arthur lead on my brother still affected him badly, mentally.
“I have to get to work James” I tell him calmy trying my best not to startle or worry him any further. I just hoped that if this bet came through, he would be done with gambling all together for his own mental wellbeing and mine. “He had blue eyes and a razor-sharp jawline if that helps.”
“How blue where the eyes?”
“Piercing, like really blue” I tell him a smile creeping its way back onto my face as I thought about the eyes of the Shelby brother. But my smile dropped when I saw the fear on James’ face, the next thing I knew he ran off towards the kitchen to be sick in the sink. “Oh my…” I gasped running after him to rub his back as he brought up the bread and water our mother had served for breakfast that morning.
“You made a bet with Thomas Shelby Ana”
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