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#more doctor who from carol :)

portuguesedisaster · 5 months

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Let's goooooo THE CELESTIAL TOYMAKER IS BACK :)

#last DT episode of DW hopefully (i will accept specials)#more doctor who from carol :)#doctor who #carol livestreams stuff

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celaenaeiln · 1 month

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in like a one person gets one, who would dicks soulmate (platonic or not idk) be? i’ve asked this to several ppl and the answers are usually wally, donna, or jason though i’ve seen some ppl say slade, roy, and bruce.

Anon your ask has literally been haunting me at night. I thought I knew the answer but then you hit me with a Donna!! But between Bruce and Donna, I can't decide so I'll just present a case for both.

Bruce

Bruce and Dick are soulmates on a cosmological scale. The DC universe ordained them to always find each other because they're quite literally a fated pair.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight Issue #23

Bruce: The only regret is that I'm out there alone. It felt good having someone at my back, being part of a team...but no sense wasting time wishing for something I'll never have.

Dick: He's cool, dad...d'you think we'll ever see him when we play Gotham?

The universe literally brings them together no matter the circumstances.

Convergence Issue #4

"The bond between you and Bruce Wayne echoes in every reality."

I don't think there's any stronger evidence for Dick and Bruce being soulmates than this.

But if that's still not enough I have more-

The Multiversity: Guidebook

In Bruce's world he lost Dick and in Dick's world he lost Bruce, but still in the end they somehow find each other. In every universe that has Batman, if someone is his partner it's always Dick.

In the medieval ages world-

Batman: Dark Knight of the Round Table Issue #1

The world of "A Christmas Carol" with Ebenezer Scrooge -

Batman: Noël

In a world where Bruce is a doctor at Arkham -

The Batman of Arkham

Dick is always there as his second.

Here's another interesting but depressing fact: In worlds where Dick Grayson has died as Robin, Bruce Wayne has never taken in another Robin.

This is because on top of the fact that Dick and Bruce as fated to meet, Dick means the entire world for Bruce. Like sometimes Bruce will come across a case with a child involved and the first thing he'll think about is Dick.

Batman: City of Madness Issue #2

Bruce's mind and life is literally consumed by Dick Grayson on a cosmologically spiritual level.

Donna

Donna is Dick's soulmate on a twin-sister spiritual level. Dick and Bruce are two halves of a whole, yin and yang. Dick and Donna though are one person. Their relationship is like taking paint and mixing it together to get something new. Like in those comics where two people look at each other and there's a "zing!" and suddenly it's an instant connection. That's them.

Titans (2016) Special 1

additionally:

Titans (2016) Special 1

New Titans (1988) Issue #89

Dick and Donna have no secrets. They're like a jigsaw puzzle, their pieces fall right into place.

He's always there for her-

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #38

They're so special and integral to each other that when an evil witch erases Donna from everyone's memories, there is only one focal point for her. One focal person for her throughout the years. Even though he doesn't remember her, Dick literally goes back in time with his future daughter Mar'i to help Donna, his soul-sister-

The Titans (1999) Issue #25

In every. single. moment of Donna's past Dick appears again and again to comfort her and be her pillar from Robin to civies to Nightwing. In the "Who is Donna Troy" Arc, as the story goes from the origins of Donna to the present, it becomes very clear that Dick is her centerpoint.

They're the definition of soulmates.

She knows him better than anyone else and he knows her. She even had him walk her Donna the aisle for her wedding. He was given that honor because of who they are to each other.

Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #42

I...

just-

Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #50

to love like that...

They're made for each other.

#dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #donna troy #wonder girl #troia #robin dick grayson #dc titans #titans as family #cl anon asks #cl asks #thanks for the ask!#koriandr #starfire

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carolmunson · 6 months

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spin doctor | e.m. x reader

mini ficlet, eddie munson works at a record store. he’s a little snobby. sort of shy!reader if you squint? it’s the very late 90s.

tw: 18+ references to smut/virginity, all around meet-cute-ish.

The rain slaps off the top of your coffee cup and into your eyes while you take a sip, woefully regretting not bringing an umbrella because the weather man said it was only misting. This isn't mist, this is just under a downpour, the hood of your dad's old canvas jacket doing little to protect you from the rain while it darkens with each drop the green fabric absorbs. You stop at the corner, protecting yourself from the weather under the awning of a laundromat. Squinting up towards the overcast gray sky, you double check the cross streets, two more blocks and you'll make it there. There being the record store that you found in the yellow pages after you inherited your parent's record player in their latest attic clean out. Your dad was smart though, sold all of the records that were in mint condition to collecters -- which left you recordless and sort of at a loss of where to start now that they were only sold at specialty stores.

You hurry your way down the next two blocks, finally seeing the sign for VI Chord Records lit up across the street in buzzing red neon. You wait to cross, seeing the reflection of the light in the wet asphalt while the sky starts to darken. Winter easing in slow these days while the nights start to come quicker than expected.

The door jingles when you open it, two guys at the check out counter looking up breifly and then back to their conversation; the other patrons don't even look. You take a breath, happy that at least no one is paying attention. You've never been to a record store before -- bought music, sure; CDs and cassettes but never vinyl -- that was like an old people thing. But your dad couldn't stop going on and on about how music just sounds better when you listen to it like that; and to be fair a lot of your favorites from the 60s and 70s sounded flat on your Walkman. You were on the hunt for the authentic experience now, the real deal.

You start at the 'New Arrivals' bin, pulling down your hood and taking off your headphones to put in your nylon back pack while you search. You sip your coffee while your fingers flick, flick, flick through the sleeves, crunching on and over the plastic protective covering of each record. You don’t know who most of the artists are, names hidden in intricate artwork or vulgar close ups of tits and crotch. You laugh at a few under your breath.

You continue your search, going over to the K section to see if you can find Carole King’s Tapestry, only to be inundated with Kiss record after Kiss record. Kix, Krokus, Kick Axe — King nowhere in the bunch. You let out a soft sigh, eyes scanning the back wall over the guys heads at the check out counter. Guitars hang on the velvet wall paper, gleaming with a fresh sign with scribbles of signatures on them. You land over by the S section, fingers flick flick flicking again to run into Slayer, T’s taken over by Twisted Sister. You don’t even realize how much time has gone by until you take a sip of coffee and nothing is left.

“Can I help you find something?”

You jump, not expecting to head a disembodied voice by the back of your neck, “Huh?”

“You just seem like you’re not finding what you’re looking for, can I help?”

You turn while he asks, one of the guys from the counter who looks like he’s stuck somewhere in the 80s and his grunge phase. His hair is to his shoulders, wavy and cut into a shag that put your moms 70s hair do to shame. The slight stubble on his chin and cheeks stretches with his smile — customer service perfection, but only for pretty things like you.

His crosses his arms over his army green tee, matching your coat that’s nearly dry now. His tattooed arms bulge slightly in the stance, straining against the small sleeves. Your eyes focus on the guitar pick dangling in the center of his chest; suddenly embarrassed by the attention.

“Um,” you start, eyes flicking up to meet his brown ones — soft and eager, like he’s excited to talk to you. Your eyes scan down to the black and gray flannel tied around his narrow waist, falling limply over his dark wash worn jeans into combat boots.

“Uh,” you stutter for a second, trying to not to get caught up in this handsome stranger, “I’m sorta new to records. My dad just gave me his but he sold all his good stuff so um — starting from zero I guess.”

“Ooh, nice,” he grins, “So a virgin, huh?”

You sputter, “Well um — no but —”

“Vinyl virgin, sweetheart,” he winks, “Don’t worry. I don’t need to know the horny details.”

“So what were you trying to find today?” he asks, leaning against the stacked milk crates full to the brim at the center of the room, “We actually just got some solid rares in if you’re trying to start a good collection.”

“I just wanna listen to oldies,” you laugh.

He laughs too, it’s smoky and cool, “Nah, nah, I hear you. What kinda oldies like — early Black Sabbath or…?”

You bite your lower lip, “I was more thinking like um, Motown? The Temptations? Maybe some James Taylor. I was mostly trying to find The Flamingos single for —”

He laughs while you continue on but then realizes you aren’t joking, head coming back to center, “Oh you’re, you’re serious?”

You feel heat lick at your cheeks and chest, sweat slickly creeping on the top of your back, “Yeah I thought…it’s a record store so—”

“Not that kind, princess,” he shrugs, hands dropping to lean against the crates behind him, “We only sell hard rock and metal here for the most part. You could check the dollar bins for drop offs, we don’t really sort those.”

“Oh,” you nod, averting his gaze while you see the big bin in the corner labeled ‘Dollar Donations’.

“Yeah maybe you’ll find your doo-wop stuff in there or something,” his voice has a hint of teasing to it that makes your teeth grit.

“Are you like, shitting on me?” you ask shakily, kind of surprised this is actually happening to you. That this guys is legitimately being a jerk over wanting music that maybe he’s not into.

“No, no, no,” he urges, “No. I’m sorry, seriously. It’s just that we don’t really get people who come in here not looking for what we sell. We’re kinda well known for being a vintage metal store.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t know that so,” you shrug, defeated weighing down your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he assures, sweet smile tugging his lips up to reveal deep dimples, “You’re a vinyl virgin, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” you roll your eyes, making your way to the bin while he follows behind you.

“Maybe if you tell me what kind of music you like now I can find a good one for you,” he offers, hand resting on his chest that’s covered in silver rings and chipped nail polish, “I’ve been told I make great recommendations.”

“I’ve been liking Blink-182 lately. Backstreet Boys on the other side of the coin,” you shrug, “And um, one of my friends has been trying to get me into Nine In Nails.”

“Now we’re talking,” he smiles, “There we go. Anything else? What’s the other older stuff you like?”

“Uh, um,” you shrug again, “Elton John? Eric Clapton?”

He nods again, “Okay, some of this stuff I can work with. What about uh, hmm, Fleetwood Mac? Sort of your vibe?”

You smile at him without meaning to, making him nearly stutter at the site, “Yeah, that’s sort of my vibe.”

“Alright,” he nods while he racks his brain for the perfect album to pick for you, “I think I got an idea of what to pull for you.”

“Okay,” you cross your arms with a smirk, “Fine. I hope it’s impressive.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he grins cockily, “Never had anyone complain about me popping their cherry.”

“At least take a girl for a drink first,” you joke back, “I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Eddie,” his hand extends out and you take it, his skin warm and slightly clammy at his never ending bumbling when talking to girls like you, “Happy to be taking your vinyl virginity today.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand slightly when you introduce yourself before letting go, “Be gentle, please. I’m new to this.”

“C’mon,” he cocks his head to the opposite wall by the ‘F’ section, “I got a lot to show you. We’ll go slow.”

He winks again; making you swallow hard. It might not have been where you meant go today, but it might have been exactly where you were meant to be.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie stranger things #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things au #eddie munson au

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 5 months

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 40

Part 1 Part 39

Days pass, and Steve’s painkiller script runs dry. Without the pills, Steve’s every waking moment twinges, but what irks him more is the way his life is passing him by.

He spent almost a week in a painkiller haze of sleep, and now he’s awake and pissed off.

The swimming season is almost over, he’s going to be drowning in schoolwork, and he’s just sitting in the Munson trailer, rotting with Eddie by his side.

Will had gone back to school yesterday, and Steve’s itching to scrabble back into mundanity.

His doctor, Wayne, Eddie, hell even Joyce, all act like it’s too soon, like he’s made of crumpled paper, like he needs handled delicately or he’ll tear.

He’s sick of it. Steve wakes up, too early with the taste of ash in his throat. Eddie’s already awake, curling his fingers around Steve’s forearm and dragging him closer in his small shoebox bed.

“What day is it?” Steve asks.

Eddie squints at the clock, reading the vivid red 4:43 on the clock like it’s a calendar. “Thursday…” he says, voice ragged with sleep, trailing off, clearly unsure.

Steve stares up at the dark ceiling, doesn’t look at the glowing red, and says, “I’m going to school today.”

Eddie squeezes his forearm, says, “Steve,” plaintively.

“I can’t do this Eddie,” Steve whispers. He blinks and he’s there, staring up at the vines writhing on Eddie’s ceiling, the red of Eddie’s alarm clock pouring through the windows. He blinks again, and he’s back, Eddie’s warmth beside him. “I’m going crazy, cooped up in here.”

Eddie sighs, a long, dramatic groan that vibrates Steve’s head where it’s propped up against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re making me go to school, Stevie,” he says, trailing his fingers gently up and down Steve’s shoulder.

“Don’t you miss your friends?” Steve asks, pointedly not thinking of his own.

Eddie’s still rubbing Steve’s shoulder, as he replies, “Yeah. Jeff called a few days ago, and Wayne told him I had the flu.” He sighs. “I just hate lying to them.”

Steve’s relationship with Tommy and Carol is built on a bed of deflection and lies. No, what you said didn’t hurt my feelings. Of course, I want to throw a party and get stuck holding the bag when the cops show up. Yeah, my parents are out of town a lot, you’re right, it’s the best.

But sometimes, when Tommy was just the right level of tipsy, or late at night at one of his sleepovers with Carol, one of them would say something real. Carol would whisper about the diet her Mom was on, how her bones were that of a bird and Carol was so afraid of being whittled down to nothing. How Tommy’s dad had hit his face hard enough to bruise, and then gotten made that he looked like a ruffian the next day.

How Steve’s parents don’t stick around long at all.

Those are the people he misses. The people left rotting in the corners of the ones who roam the halls of Hawkins High. That’s not who he’ll get to see at school today.

“They’d understand,” Steve says. “If they’re your friends, they’d understand.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Eddie says, letting the topic drop.

Wayne grumbles over his mug of coffee when they stumble out of Eddie’s bedroom, both dressed in Eddie’s clothes, but doesn’t say much. They share a quiet breakfast, as Wayne scarfs down his meal before bed, drooping into his plate.

Eddie rifles through the whole trailer until he finally finds the van keys discarded in the bathroom. Wayne sends them off with a gruff, “come home if ya get tired,” as they walk through the door.

Steve doesn’t notice he doesn’t have any of his stuff until Eddie’s already pulling into the parking lot, students glaring and giving a wide berth to his van as it loudly chug chug chugs into a space.

He can’t remember if he had any assignments due, what they were learning, barely even remembers his class schedule. It’s like everything from before has the haze of a dream. Only the nightmare of after is crisp and real.

The whispers as he stumbles out of Eddie’s van, start slow. They grow louder when Eddie rushes to the other side of the van, holding out his arm in an offer of support that Steve snubs.

Eddie walks by his side, leaning into him like he just can’t help himself. “You know,” he whispers conspiratorially. “It’s not too late to pretend I kidnapped you or something.”

Steve snorts, letting his elbow slide into Eddie’s ribs as he takes a step closer, even as the stares fillet his skin right open. “I’d make a terrible captive.”

Eddie laughs. “You really do,” Eddie says, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Coming here against the doctor’s orders? Naughty naughty!”

Steve jams his elbow into Eddie’s ribs, hard this time, sending him reeling even as he laughs, clutching the abused spot.

No one approaches them, treating the whole spectacle like it’s a television show. Fascinating and untouchable.

But the bubble inevitably bursts. Tommy’s loitering by Carol’s locker, arm slung over her shoulder as she digs through its contents. She laughs, smacking his arm even as she smiles up at him. They look happy. Fine. Normal. Like Steve hasn’t been missed at all.

There’s something dark and slimy slithering up Steve’s throat. He swallows it down.

He keeps walking, Eddie by his side, not looking their way. So, it’s a shock when a small hand grabs his hand and yanks.

“What the hell, Steve?” Carol says, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Where have you been?”

“Nevermind that, what happened to your hair?” Tommy asks, laughing. Like Steve being missing is a joke. Like everything always is, with him.

“Just felt like a change,” Steve says, smiling sarcastically at them before trying to continue on his way.

Carol’s hand tangled in his sleeve stops him. He looks down at it. Her fingernails are turning white under her pretty pink nail polish. He sighs, stops, Eddie stopping beside him.

“I was in the hospital,” he says, meeting Carol’s eyes, pretending Tommy isn’t there at all. “Thanks for visiting by the way.”

She takes a startled step back, stretching Steve’s borrowed sweatshirt out with the way her fingers are still hanging onto it. As if she can sense people staring, she steps forward, holds her ground as she glares up at him, hissing, “we didn’t know!” she stamps her foot, loud with her clunky heels. “We went to your house, and no one answered!”

“And you didn’t think that was weird?” Steve demands. “You didn’t think, huh, maybe we should look for Steve? You couldn’t even pretend to give a shit?”

“Steve, I—” Carol starts, before Tommy interrupts her.

“So, what?” he demands, posturing into Steve’s space before Eddie throws out an arm, pushing him back. “You got your feelings hurt and you decide to start slumming it with the trailer trash?”

That dark thing slithers back up Steve’s throat. He pours it out at Tommy’s feet. “Anyone’s an upgrade compared to you,” he spits. “Poor little Tommy, has to make everything a joke so no one will notice there’s nothing underneath.”

“Steve!” Carol gasps.

“Oh, like you’re any better!” he says, something vicious and snarling crawling out of him. “Act like a bitch so no one gets any closer.”

“And what does that make you?” she demands.

“Steve,” Eddie says, pulling him back. “Let’s go.”

Steve looks at the two people who were his best friends and feels nothing. “You’re right,” he says, turning around and not looking back. “They’re not worth it.”

“Whatever,” Tommy shouts. “Just go off and fuck your new boyfriend, see if I care!”

People in the hallway are staring. Steve feels their eyes like fingernails down his face. Eddie takes a step away from him but doesn’t leave his side.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods, afraid he’ll spit up rage like bile if he opens his mouth. Eddie doesn’t leave him alone until he’s at the threshold of English class.

“I’m in shop,” he says, eyeing Steve critically. “Get me if you need me, okay?”

Steve nods.

“Promise me,” Eddie says, crossing his arms and staring Steve down. They both ignore the furtive look other students give them as they slip past to get into the classroom.

Steve chokes out, “I promise,” maintaining eye contact with Eddie until he finally turns and leaves with a strained sigh.

Once he’s out of sight, Steve runs on shaky legs, shoving through the nearest bathroom door and dropping painfully to the tile as he leans over the open lid of the toilet, stomach heaving.

It’s not rage that crawls out. Something small, and slimy, and black slithers out of his throat and into the bowl.

Steve flushes the bowl, washes his mouth out and goes back to class just before the bell.

Part 41

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#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #my fic

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lexirosewrites · 16 days

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For next Sunday.

Less of a story, more of an A/B/O conceptual conceit with a potential idea tacked onto the end. The same way that getting a really bad upper respiratory infection can make you susceptible to them for years and years afterwards: getting rejection sickness, either one really bad one, or a bunch of small ones, can make you permanently prone to developing it again.

So. Steve Harrington, whose parents were home often enough for Steve to hope, but gone enough for their scents to fade, has been dealing with whats basically chronic rejection sickness all his childhood. It gets a little easier when he has a long term nanny, not just omegas hired to watch him for a weekend here or there. Getting popular helps too. He has people around that way. Sports help a lot because whether its intentional or not, they all end up scenting like the rest of the team most days, and Steve builds a reputation for being too protective of his hair to shower in the school gym most of the time.

It's better than it was, but that doesn't mean he's cured. Pulling away from Carol and Tommy, who have functionally been his pack, messes with his health. He doesn't even like them, doesn't want them around, but they've been part of him for so long his body panics. He clings to Nancy to try to make up for it, but that's not who she is, and it doesn't really work.

Nancy breaking up with him fully crashes him into rejection sickness. It's bad. It's so bad.

Luckily, it hits over the holidays, and he gets a scrip from a doctor to make it run faster. Means he feels even worse during it, but by the time classes start, he's functional again. The kids help some. Robin helps a lot. It's chronic illness though, so there's random times when his parents are home for a week, then leave, and Robin isn't enough to fully prevent it.

Enter Eddie.

Maybe its the band touring. Maybe its Eddie going into WitSec. Maybe its just that the town isn't safe so he and Wayne move. And they're not together, not dating, not - technically - more than friends, but that doesn't stop Steve from getting sick.

Ohhh noooo my poor baby🥺 I just know that Eddie would feel terrible when he realized!!

#slick Sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks

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sleepyangelkami · 2 months

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RESTLESS NIGHTS d.dixon

☆ WORD COUNT - 2.2K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - for as long as you can remember, you've always suffered with insomnia. sometimes it was manageable, sometimes it wasn't. the only difference was then you didn't have daryl dixon to help you, now you did.

☆ WARNINGS - sleep deprivation, insomnia, mention of sleeping (lack of), crying, reference to bad childhood, mentions of eating/food, having no appetite, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

sleep never came easy to you.

you remembered being young, standing outside your mothers bedroom door and crying. fat tears would roll down your cheeks as you explained how your eyes simply couldn't will themselves closed anymore and that it was damn near impossible for you to sleep.

she'd always shone you back right to that little bedroom of yours. the walls would enclose on you and yet your eyes would shut, tiredness seeping over you.

yet sleep would never come.

a lot of time has passed since you were a child crying at your mothers door, begging for some kind of an out to this awful insomnia.

before the fall hit, you were a polite young lady that wore summer dresses and skirts all year 'round. you'd walk in through the white door, bell ringing as you entered your doctor's. he'd give you the capsuled tablets that helped you sleep. now, you couldn't even remember what they'd been called.

after the fall, you'd been stocked up, a reasonable amount. though not after long, the name had scratched off, sticker almost gone from the bottle completely. along the way, you met your group, your people, your family. they were more your family than your mother ever had been.

when you and your group found the prison, you deemed that you liked it there.

it had walls, safety, food, anything you ever could have asked for. but soon enough, your medication ran out and the sleepless nights haunted you again.

like today.

carol had made this sort of soup for lunch. you were sat at one of the tables, a spoon in your hand as you stirred it inside the bowl, zoning out. you wondered if it had gone cold by how long you'd been stirring it for. all you knew was that you were too tired to so much as move your arm.

unbeknownst to you, you'd been being watched. daryl dixon had taken a liking to you the moment he'd laid eyes on you. you pranced around with big smiles and happy rosey cheeks with your little dresses and skirts. you were so bubbly and happy, even when the entire world ended. most would think that a person like daryl would find it annoying, rather irritating. but in fact, he was attracted to it the moment he'd seen it. you were like a ray of sunshine, a beaming rainbow. whenever he was around you, he was smiling or laughing. rick almost fell off his horse when he heard daryl laugh for the first time, it was next to you, of course.

but lately, things hadn't been right.

he'd noticed the very first day you woke up with messier than usual hair, a hand running through it with an almost permanent pout etched to your lips, under eyes looking a little dark.

you'd only gotten worse since then.

the sound of a bowl hitting against the table brought you back to life. your doe eyes widened a little as you sat up a little straighter, big eyes gleaming at the man who took a seat at the table you were sitting at, right across from you. "hi, daryl." almost swooning at the mere sight of him.

"hey, pretty girl." yeah, definitely swooning. "wh's up with you? you've been stirrin' the damn soup cold."

you glanced down to your bowl of soup that you'd barely touched. "not hungry." you stated, pushing the bowl out in front of you. you sighed with pouty lips as you laid your chin on your hand.

lack of sleep tended to do that to you. one of two things would happen. one, you'd be craving something like crazy, whatever food it would be from cheese to fruit. or two, the lesser kind one, you'd lose your appetite almost completely. now was the lesser kind one. this one tended to happen when you didn't sleep for longer periods of time.

daryl's eyes were so full of concern and worry. "somethin' wrong?" not waiting to begin having his own soup, carol made a mean soup.

"nope." popping the 'p' sound because really, there wasn't anything wrong, at least nothing serious enough to tell anyone else, you thought. "just tired." tired was an understatement, your whole body was exhausted.

"yeah, i get that." nodding along and pursing his lips. though this behaviour had been going on quite a while. he never wanted to push you, but there were times where he felt like he had to do something. "you'd tell me if there was something wrong though, right?"

you hummed, eyes tracing his own. you were awfully tired and with electric blue eyes like his own, it was sort of hard not to get caught staring into them, whether you were tired or not. "'m just tired." you assured.

though the man didn't look as though he believed you. his eyes traced your own, as though they were trying to figure out what else was wrong.

finally, he sighed, knowing that you weren't going to tell him anything, not now. "alright, sweet girl." watching your cheeks go flush. "you know where to find me if you need me."

you nodded your head, rosy cheeks and pink lips in a smile. "thanks, daryl."

days passed awful slow when you were tired.

thankfully, you'd taken no naps throughout the day so you assumed that by the time night fell, you'd be tired enough to sleep your soul away.

but when the dark sky loomed over the prison, you ready in your cell for sleep to envelope you... you were met with sheer nothingness.

you huffed, closing your eyes and twisting your body.

you thought that if you kept trying, sleep would eventually come to you. you'd tried all the home remedies you could, you tried medication, though that was no longer an option. now, you had hardly any options. the only one that you could think of was shutting your eyes and praying for sleep.

but you knew a long time ago that there was no god in a world like your own.

you turned around for what felt like the hundredth time. even with your eyes strewn closed, a pout still rested on your lips and your brows were knit together closely.

you wondered if anyone else in the prison was awake.

then your mind travelled back to daryl dixon. he looked at you so full of concern and when he'd offered help, he meant it. you knew daryl the best out of anyone and you knew that daryl doesn't say things he doesn't mean. he was the type of man to stay quiet and if he did speak, it was only truth. that was what many people admired about him.

you hardly registered your sock covered feet on the cold concrete ground of the prison. sleepiness was holding so close to you that you hardly registered anything. you didn’t remember your feet guiding your body, turning the corner to reveal the next hallway. and you definitely didn’t recall stepping into daryl dixon’s cell, eyes slightly widening in the dark as you peered around, looking for him.

alas, his cell was empty.

you almost cursed yourself, thinking it was beyond stupid for you to come here in the first place. perhaps you should have just stayed in your cell and waited the night out. you could do one more night without sleep, right?

but before you could turn around, you heard the creak of the cell door. you whipped around to see daryl standing there, looking dishevelled as ever. “what’re you doin’ here, angel?” when you didn’t respond, he found his body moving closer to yours. “shouldn’t you be sleepin’?”

and maybe that was what set you off.

“i can’t.” but you didn’t speak the words with your usual joyish speech, where every word was elongated and practically cheered from your mouth. your voice was all croaky as it broke, like a child, waiting for your mother to open her bedroom door and let you in.

“hey, hey.” his hands were already stretching out, finding your face in the darkness. his fingers brushed against your cheeks, softening the reddened skin. “‘s okay, what’re you cryin’ for?” though his voice was filled with nothing but comfort, the way it softened to fit your own.

daryl dixon truly was one in a million.

you shrugged your shoulders, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, breaking the dam and sliding down your cheeks embarrassingly so. “i can’t sleep.” voice cracking again, but you didn’t stop there. “i’ve tried everything ‘n i can’t do it.” your head shaking, nose becoming red.

daryl wasn’t exactly new to insomnia. he’d felt it times on his own, usually after something drastic had happened or if something was yet to happen. like when carol’s daughter, sophia had been missing. he remembered not being able to sleep for weeks on end. he remembered glancing into the mirror, his eyes sunken and under eyes practically purple. come to think of it, that was exactly how you’d looked earlier.

he cursed himself for not realising sooner.

“‘s okay, baby, everything’s okay.” he heard your pathetic little sobs, practically whimpering as he took you into his arms. his large hand found the back of your head, steadying it by his chest as you cried, tears running down your cheeks as your own chest practically heaved.

you’d been so desperate for sleep that you hadn’t realised you’d been on the brink of tears. now that you were sobbing into the man’s chest, you found it in yourself to be a little embarrassed. but daryl wasn’t the type of person to let you feel that embarrassment. he merely cooed and shushed you, hand gently massaging the crown of your head.

“‘m sorry.” voice like fragile glass as you pulled away from him. “‘n now ‘m keeping you awake ‘n i―”

“hey,” catching your attention. even in the dead of night, with darkness consuming the room whole, you were still able to make out his rough features, and he could still trace your delicate ones. “you ain’ ever gotta say sorry to me, alright?” you nodded your head, eyes still full of watery liquid and lips puffy and red. “now c’mon, we’re gonna figure this out together.”

you could vaguely make out his hand on the small of your back, leading you towards his bed that was draped in many more blankets than your own.

you’d never realised just how comfortable daryl’s bed was, even through the many times you’d practically hopped into his cell, jumping on the bed excitedly to tell him some form of news that you’d heard, whether it was a piece of gossip from carol or something serious from rick, daryl had always been all ears.

it was very different to the state you were in now.

you still found yourself sniffling as daryl tucked the sheets over your body. the sheets were different than yours. usually, you hated feeling too many sheets on you, finding yourself feeling awfully trapped but when he was tucking you in so delicately, you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind.

then you felt his arm gently plop over your middle, holding your back against his front.

gently, your two hands pushed themselves forward, grasping his much larger one. you fumbled with his fingers, pulling one in, sticking one out. even in the dark when you couldn’t so much as make out the shapes, you still found it sort of lulling.

the feeling of his breath hitting the back of your neck, the warmth of his body flowing into your own. you found your eyes gently shutting.

you wondered had it been this easy all along. If all you’d ever needed as just someone else. you didn’t know but deep down you knew. perhaps that was why you’d waited at your mothers door as a child, crying and begging for her to just open it and let you in while she’d shone you away, annoyed with your antics, wondering why she couldn’t get a normal child. and maybe that was why your feet unconsciously began walking towards daryl’s cell, because even your body knew that all you needed as someone to help you, someone to guide the way.

and daryl was more than happy to give you that.

for the first time in a long time, you found yourself almost succumbing to sleep.

it was almost scary. you wondered if your eyes would force themselves open or your mind would force yourself awake. your entire body feared that you’d blink and wake up in your own cell, had this all just been in your imagination due to your lack of sleep.

the mere thought made a shaky breath fall from your pretty lips.

and daryl was more than prepared to pull you closer towards him, his face practically in your hair. his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, hand finding your fingers and interlocking them before his arm stretched out around your body, pulling you as close as humanly possible. “not goin’ anywhere.” he mumbled, as though he were able to read your mind.

he spoke again but the words faded out as your tired mind finally put itself to rest.

perhaps you didn’t just need someone else. perhaps you just needed him.

main masterlist/daryl's masterlist

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fans4wga · 8 months

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[September 1] Don’t Fall For Hollywood Bosses’ New PR Spin

'Today marks the 122nd day of the Writers Guild of America (WGA) strike and 48th day of the Screen Actors Guild and American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (SAG-AFTRA) strike. The dual work stoppages have brought Hollywood to a standstill, with production halted on films and television programs, and premieres and other promotional events either scaled back or canceled. Both guilds are striking over demands that are more than reasonable, particularly given studio executives’ record pay. These demands include fair compensation for streaming media (particularly better residuals, which currently pale in comparison to what they are for network and cable broadcasts), robust studio support for health and retirement funds, and safeguards around the use of artificial intelligence. (For more on why WGA and SAG-AFTRA are on strike, read the excellent reporting of Jacobin’s Alex Press).

In a move that has shocked…pretty much no one, Hollywood bosses don’t want to share their earnings with the very storytellers responsible for generating them. At the same time, they’re happy to make workers pay the cost for their own miscalculations about streaming.

The major Tinseltown studios – organized under the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP) trade association – remain stubbornly opposed to striking a fair deal with either guild. Under the leadership of AMPTP president Carol Lombardini, studios have employed brutal tactics to bust the strike, including threatening to drag things out until writers lose their homes and using management-friendly trade publications to pressure the guilds into accepting lowball offers. These tactics have backfired spectacularly: not only have they failed to end either strike, but they’ve also turned the public overwhelmingly against the AMPTP. A new Gallup poll finds that Americans back the WGA over the AMPTP by 72% to 19%, and SAG-AFTRA over AMPTP by 64% to 24%.

Aware of their reputational damage (but willfully ignorant of the anti-worker attitude that caused it), the AMPTP announced a “reset” to its approach this week – not by negotiating in good faith or meeting the guilds’ demands, but by hiring a pricey crisis-management PR firm to revamp its image! According to Deadline, the AMPTP has hired The Levinson Group – a D.C.-based PR shop best known for representing the U.S. Women’s National Soccer Team in its campaign for pay equity – to “reframe the big picture for studio and streamer CEOs who have been characterized as greedy, imperious and out of touch.”

If you’re feeling like you’ve seen this movie before, you’re not wrong. During the last WGA strike 15 years ago, studio bosses hired former Clinton comms strategists Mark Fabiani and Chris Lehane to revive the AMPTP’s flagging public image. The revolving-door duo were paid a jaw-dropping $100,000 per month by the AMPTP to strike-bust, deploying campaign-style spin attacks designed to break the WGA’s resolve.

As I wrote for The American Prospect in May:

“Fabiani and Lehane created a website with a live tally of the millions of dollars in income that guild members and on-set crew had purportedly lost by striking. They urged studio CEOs to publicly refer to WGA representatives as “organizers” rather than “negotiators” because the former “sound[ed] more Commie.” Lehane even told the press at one point that striking writers were “making more than doctors and pilots,” cynically arguing that the strike was harming “real working-class people” like below-the-line workers who had lost income from struck late-night talk shows […] Fabiani and Lehane were [also] the brains behind a “strongly worded and downright menacing” AMPTP press release breaking off negotiations with the WGA in December 2007. This move allowed the studios, which cited a protracted strike as an “unforeseeable event,” to invoke force majeure contract clauses and cancel multiple writer-producer deals worth tens of millions of dollars, severely demoralizing the WGA’s rank-and-file members.”

The parallels between 2008 and today are striking. Like Fabiani and Lehane (who have worked for scandal-plagued clients like Gray Davis, Bill O’Reilly, Lance Armstrong, and Goldman Sachs) the Levinson Group has no qualms about representing greedy and unsavory characters. Over the years, Levinson has done PR for predatory student lender Better Future Forward, reviled monopolist Live Nation/Ticketmaster, a talc mining company linked to the Johnson & Johnson baby powder cancer scandal, and Theranos fraudster Elizabeth Holmes.

And just like the ex-Clinton spin doctors, the Levinson Group boasts close revolving-door ties to powerful politicians and the news media. The firm currently represents President Biden’s personal attorney Bob Bauer and previously represented John Podesta’s family lobbying firm. Levinson partners have previously worked for an array of influential politicians, including former President Bill Clinton, Senators Jon Tester and Amy Klobuchar, Representatives Maxine Waters and Ted Lieu, and former and current Los Angeles Mayors Eric Garcetti and Karen Bass. The firm’s founder and CEO Molly Levinson spent eight years working for CNN and CBS, while two of the Levinson Group’s top managing directors are alumni of CNBC and The Wall Street Journal. With a web of strong connections to power players in the entertainment industry’s twin capitals of LA and New York, along with the nation’s capital, Levinson could help the AMPTP tilt the regulatory and media scales back in the bosses’ favor.

Though this may sound demoralizing, striking writers and actors shouldn’t lose hope. For one, consider a surprisingly uplifting parallel between 2008 and 2023. Fifteen years ago, after Fabiani and Lehane took the AMPTP’s contract, the SEIU and other unions that had previously worked with the duo severed ties with them for trying to bust the writers’ strike. Fast forward to this week: the U.S. Women’s National Soccer Team Players Association (Levinson’s star client!) publicly rebuked the firm for doing the AMPTP’s dirty work and voiced support for the dual WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. If history is any indication, it’s only a matter of time until other pro-union Levinson clients – like the majority SEIU-owned Amalgamated Bank – follow suit and sever ties with the firm.

There is also one crucial way in which 2023 is thankfully not like 2008: The Levinson Group is bad at their jobs.

Consider an August 27th New York Times article about AMPTP President Carol Lombardini*, which was almost certainly pitched or otherwise molded by Levinson flacks. The article goes to ridiculous lengths to rehabilitate Lombardini’s image:

The article passively describes Lombardini’s tenure as “marked by labor peace until now” (a peace that she has now broken) and shifts blame for her unpopular decisions to anonymous AMPTP members (how convenient!).

Article co-authors Brooks Barnes and John Koblin quote a 2014 email from then-WarnerMedia CEO Kevin Tsujihara praising Lombardini’s negotiation skills and recommending she receive a $365,000 bonus. Curiously absent from the article is any mention of Tsujihara’s high-profile 2019 resignation from WarnerMedia for pressuring actresses into non-consensual sex.

Barnes and Koblin attempt to paint a “she’s just like us” picture of Lombardini (who reportedly earns a $3 million annual salary), mentioning her upbringing in a “working-class town outside Boston” and love for Red Sox and Dodgers games.

Barnes and Koblin paint a rosy picture of the AMPTP’s “sweetened proposal” (their words) to the WGA, describing the studios’ August counteroffer as “including higher wages, a pledge to share some viewership data and additional protections around the use of artificial intelligence.” Barnes & Koblin never quote the WGA’s well-founded reasons for turning down this lowball offer, saying only that the WGA is “holding firm to demands related to staffing minimums and transparency into streaming-service viewership.”

Bizarrely, the core issue of underpaid streaming residuals (the main reason writers are demanding greater streaming transparency) is never mentioned in the article.

Barnes and Koblin frequently imply that criticism of Lombardini is unfair, describing her as an “easy target” for the “grievances of striking workers” and singling out a tweet purportedly “mocking [Lombardini] as a fuddy-duddy who hangs out at chain restaurants”.

Barnes and Koblin quote a pre-strike September 2022 Deadline interview with Teamsters organizer Lindsay Dougherty to claim that Lombardini has the “grudging respect” of union leaders who see her as a “fair individual.” They did not quote more recent statements from Dougherty, who last month tweeted that the “greedy” AMPTP had “declared war on Hollywood Labor” by refusing to negotiate in good faith with WGA and SAG-AFTRA.

In one unintentionally eyebrow-raising line, Barnes and Koblin state that Lombardini was “inspired to become a lawyer by reading articles about F. Lee Bailey.” Neither Bailey’s sordid clients (like OJ Simpson) nor his multiple disbarments are mentioned in the article.

And it’s not just me who finds the Levinson Group’s efforts laughable. Discussions of the NYT story on Reddit and Twitter are dominated by comments tying the story’s blatant reputation laundering for Lombardini to the AMPTP’s concurrent hiring of Levinson. A recent New Yorker puff piece on Warner CEO David Zaslav has been met with similar ridicule – with many commenters also pointing to Levinson’s potential influence. So too have recent stories from management-friendly trades like Deadline – all of which have failed to make a dent in strong public support for WGA and SAG-AFTRA. This is a good sign: not only is the public more inclined to side with striking workers than it was in 2008 – it’s also seemingly more attuned to the role of corporate PR flacks in shaping the media narrative. If studio bosses think they can remake the same movie and end another strike with flashy spin-doctors, they’re sorely mistaken.

So here’s my advice to the AMPTP (and it won’t cost you six figures per month to hear it): the way to fix your reputation problem is to end the strike by giving writers and actors what they want. No strike-busting comms team can rescue you from the hole you’ve dug yourself into.

As the LA Times’ Mary McNamara recently put it, “You’ve lost the war. The best thing to do now is negotiate the terms of surrender.”'

#wga strike #writers strike #sag-aftra strike #sag strike #actors strike

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anki-of-beleriand · 3 months

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Bad Liar ch. 18

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - Mentions of Natasha/Maria being married

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - violence - mentios of abused and sexual assault - idiots in love - violence - suggestive themes - drama - angst - fluff

Author's note: The world had changed, and Wanda finally had a chance to show you and tell you how much she loves you and how much you had changed her life for the better.

Well, guys, this is the end.

I surely hope you guys like this chapter as much as I love writing it, and that in general you love the story. I wanted to give you a closure to what had happened and to how the story of both, Reader and Wanda would unfold, but I also wanted to give you a glimpse of the future so. Hope you enjoy the read! Thank you to all of you who stay to the very end, it was quite amazing to have you with me all this time.

Please rmemeber English is not my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes, hope you like this one.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Wishing upon a shooting star

Now and Forever

Time was a funny concept.

After the incident with Vision and Agatha, the world continued its slow travelled into a new year and the normality of life. But for you and your family, it became a painfully slow process in which you had to face many decisions and harsh realities. In the last couple of days, you had tried to make everything work, you made sure not only America but Wanda and the twins had the support they needed to continue on, while also dealing with the legal affairs involving Vision.

Everything had been a part of your life and how you were building up from scratch what had been put in jeopardy in a matter of hours.

Still, you and Wanda endure, and you couldn’t help but fell more in love with the woman that had been picking up her pieces while being everything you and her children needed. You massaged your neck tiredly, the house was completely alone and Wanda and the twins were still out somewhere with Natasha and Maria.

At least that was what she had said to you when you asked for her companionship to your appointment with the doctor. It had been a strange day, a very lonely day in which you had been left alone with your thoughts and emotions.

You whistled glancing around your living room before directing your attention to the stairs, America had long gone somewhere with Kate and you regretted not having agreed to her and her idea of joining you at the hospital. With a heavy sigh, and some tiredness you made your way upstairs ready to take a shower.

Of course, noting could had prepared you for what you found there.

The room was completely empty.

You stepped forward until your eyes fell upon the clothes that had been neatly organized on your bed. Right on top of your favourite trousers there was a single note with your name on it, you recognized America’s messy handwriting and you couldn’t help but smile at the words she had left written on the piece of paper.

Today is finally the day!

Wanda has been planning this for a very long time, and since I am very amazing sister, and sister-in-law, I decided to give her a hand.

I choose your favourite clothes and left everything ready for you to get dress and ready for your date with Wanda. You and her both deserve this time, and I think it would be the perfect time to just be yourself and talk about everything but what had happened lately. Please, be happy. I will take the twins to Kate’s place and you two will have the rest of the afternoon and the night for yourselves. Please, just write to me and make sure you enjoy the date.

Love, the best sister in the world (me)

Your smile only grew knowing in the last couple of days America had been completely secretive though always offering hints of how much you were going to love the surprised. Wanda had been holding her secrets just as tightly, and by the time Friday finally arrived you were really dying to know what Wanda had prepared.

“Very well, one hour before Wanda is here,” you mumbled to yourself letting your eyes wandered around to check your clothes. With a wince, you left your backpack and the jacket on a chair and went to the bathroom.

You couldn’t help but gasped at the sheer pain you felt running through your arm, leaving the sling to the side and helping yourself out of your clothes. Your reflection blinked back at you, the wound on your left arm was still red, and fresh, pulsating from time to time reminding you not only of the cold winter days, but of what had almost happened two weeks ago.

With a frown, and a shake of your head you turned around getting the bath ready.

Today was about you and Wanda and whatever it was she had prepared for you, there was no time to think anything sad or regretful. With a smile on your face, you put on some music and decided to get ready for the woman that had already captured your heart.

A deep void of anticipation settled on your lower abdomen and you could hardly wait to see Wanda again.

You glanced at your reflection with a critical eye.

America had put together the suit your dad had chosen for your first official meeting in the company. Your lips curled lightly, it had been a while since you last used those Chino pants, or that blazer, but it was your favourite one because of how it made you look. How it made you feel. You smiled fixing your left arm to rest comfortably on your midsection, the blazer and pants tailored fit complementing your body form with the dark colours you favoured so much.

You found your eyes in your reflection, your body tingling with anticipation and a void expanding on your abdomen. Your heart shrank with emotion, when you recalled Wanda's eyes on you, her smile and the sweet timbre of her voice. If you were to be honest you didn't know when you felt for her, when you lowered your guard and allowed this woman and her children to take home in your heart. You just knew that one day, her smile took your breath away and her eyes on you made your heart fluttered with want.

The mobile on your bed vibrated several times, you furrowed your brows grabbing the phone while reading the message. You smirked, you turned around and went directly to the first floor making sure you had your wallet and keys on you. The moment you opened the door your throat went dry,

She stood by your door wearing a single, dark blue dress pressed around her horse but loose around the waist. There was a black coat on her, with her hair straightened up and light make-up glistening on her face. She smiled shyly at you, her eyes taking in your frame before they settled in your eyes, her cheeks wore a dust of red you were familiar with.

“Hey.” She greeted tentatively dipping her head while looking away for a moment.

You shook your head, blinking a couple of times before stepping forward.

“Hey.”

Wanda leaned back, her tongue playing with her lips with her hands closing tightly around the purse she had borrowed.

“You look beautiful.” You finally stuttered out, your face warming up when those green eyes fell on you once more.

Wanda put a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile softening leaning into the touch of your hand on her arm.

“You look good, too.” She replied and you were quite relieved you were not the only one incapable of speaking properly at the moment.

“Only good?” You asked teasingly, Wanda opened her eyes, shaking her head.

“You look amazing.” She finally stated, rolling her eyes when you just chuckled.

“Amazing, eh?”

“You always look good,” Wanda lifted her hand and put it on top of yours, “are you ready?”

You stepped out of your house closing the door behind you, you grabbed her hand placing a kiss on her knuckles with a single winked that made Wanda falter for a moment.

“I'm all ready for you, Princess. I'm also very excited to know where you are taking me, and what you have planned for today.”

You couldn't hide the excitement in your voice, you bounced on your feet while Wanda merely shook her head pointing to the car.

“It's still a surprise and as such, you are going to be asked to wear a blindfold.”

You cocked a brow at her, your lips curling playfully.

“Kinky.” You chuckled when Wanda slapped you playfully on the back, she rolled her eyes but you could tell she was blushing profusely.

“Come on, we have reservations.”

Wanda started walking down the lane but stopped when your hand closed around her forearm. She turned confused, her eyes finding yours and the seriousness of your expression made her turn completely to face you.

“We cannot go like this, you know?” You shook your head, but Wanda merely creased her brows tilting her head.

Whatever question she had, or whatever she was going to say was soon cut by your lips finding hers in a slow, tentative kiss. Her breath caught in her throat, and you just loved the way she tilted her head placing her hands on your forearms giving into the kiss while opening her mouth with her tongue teasingly playing with yours. You smiled into the kiss, sowing down until your forehead was resting against hers. Both breathing hard, flustered with lips swollen from the kissing.

“Are you…are you happy now?” Wanda asked and her voice, while still recovering, suddenly was huskier than ever.

You nodded, placing a sweet peck on her cheek, stepping back before you couldn't contain yourself.

“Yep, now we can go.”

____________________________

The ride to your destination was a silent event.

The silence was filled with music and conversation about your doctor’s recommendations for the physical therapy and Wanda’s care of her throat. You had leaned back against the eat, with a smile playing on your lips while you gave the woman sitting beside you a trust you rarely placed in anybody else.

When the car finally stopped, your stomach was squirming deliciously and your heart was jumping with anticipation of what was going to happen. You waited until a warm hand placed itself on your leg, your body tense leaning in to follow the voice of Wanda.

“I thought very hard on this, you know?” Wanda was speaking softly, with her voice filled with memory and something you couldn’t quite name, “I’ve been going through so many changes, and when I was finally getting to know myself I met you.”

You cracked a smile leaning your head without being able to see but sensing Wanda’s eyes on you.

“That was one hell of a first good impression?”

Wanda snorted, her hand clenched tenderly around your knee.

“No, I hated you.” This time around you could tell she was not joking, but her voice merely softened. “I hated what you made me feel, I felt vulnerable but at the same time there was this horde of butterflies on my stomach and my chest was always tight and throbbing…it was infuriating. It was confusing.”

You lifted your right hand; your movements were slow and tentative waiting to see if Wanda would stop your advances but she never did so. By the time you took off the blindfold, you could see the face of the other woman looking right outside the parking lot of a big, black building. Wanda let out a breathy sigh, it came right from her chest and by the time her green eyes found yours your heart skipped a beat.

“I wasn’t sure as to what I was experimenting until…” Wanda shrugged, “until I told Hope, then everything make sense.”

“Was it the first time you…” your question caught in your throat, there were many things you wanted to ask, furrowing your brows you realised there were certain details about Wanda you had yet to see, you had yet to know.

Fixing your position on the seat, this time around it was you the one facing her while the building stood like a shadow in front of you.

“Was it the first time a woman flirt with you?” You asked tentatively, Wanda nodded tilting her head until she was locking her eyes with you.

“It was the first time I actually admit to liking a woman, Y/N.” Wanda then softened her features, her hand seeking yours, “today I want to make it special, I want for you to know and to feel just how much you mean to me. I…I may be slow with words, but I don’t want you to think I am not experiencing the same emotions as you do.”

Your lips broke into a half smile, you leaned forward until your lips were on her ear. Wanda shivered her eyes fluttering close as you spoke.

“I love you.” It was a simple whisper, three words you had gotten used to tell the other woman with every single ounce of honestly you could show her.

“I know.” Wanda replied back turning her face until your lips and hers were brushing against one another, you snorted shaking your head.

“Very well, Han Solo, where are we?”

Wanda furrowed her brows scrunching up her nose the very same way the twins usually did when confused. You chuckled tucking her locks behind her ear.

“What did you call me?” She asked tentatively leaning back, you raised a single brow.

“You know? Han Solo? Star Wars? Princess Leia?”

Wanda shrugged shaking her head, her eyes twinkling in silent laughter at the face of pure mock disbelief you were wearing at the moment. It was as if you were genuinely offended by her lack of knowledge for what you were saying.

“God, as soon as this is over you and I are going home to see the movies, the original ones before I settled on letting you see the full saga.” You commented opening the door of the car.

Wanda followed your actions, but just before the both of you left the warmness of the car she decided to speak.

“Funny, I thought that after we left this place you and I could be doing something totally different once we were home. I was dying to know what else you could do with that mouth of yours.”

The young woman smirked closing the car door behind her and walking down the parking lot, her cheeks were a witness of her embarrassment but her heart fluttered happily when she heard your cursed and gasp. The door closing with a loud thud, while your footsteps hurried up behind her.

The night promise to be fun.

The main entranced had been decorated with silvery banners announcing the newest show, the doors were closed and a single sign to the left showed the place had been closed hours ago. You furrowed your brows; it was until the both of you had been standing closed to it that you realized you were in the Natural Museum and the Stark Planetarium. The place was huge and it had been built just outside the city to make it possible for the observatory to get easiest access to a clear sky. Your eyes lighted up leaning in to observed inside the glassed doors, Wanda stood by your side writing something on her phone while waiting patiently with you.

“How did you know?” You asked leaning back, Wanda shifted her weight from one feet to the other facing you with a soft smile.

“I did pay attention when you helped the twins with their homework, and I did my investigation to make sure I wouldn’t get this wrong.” Wanda stepped closer to you positioning herself on your right side so she could grab your hand in hers. “I want this date to be special.”

“Being with you is what makes this date special.” You pecked her cheek, and Wanda just shook her head.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Nah, I’m just saying the truth.”

Soon the doors were opened and a single guard opened the doors, he smiled at the both of you while passing a set of keys to Wanda giving her silent instructions as to where they should go and which parts were off limits for the both of you. You observed as the young woman listened carefully, she took the map the man was giving her while also pointing to something on the tablet he was holding. Your heart skipped a beat thinking of all the things she had done, if only to get you to where you two were at the moment ready to enjoy the strangest date you had ever been to.

“Very well, we’re not allow to disturb the rest of the exhibitions so let’s see, I think it’s down here.”

“Lead the way, my lady, I am but a humble peasant at your mercy.”

Wanda chuckled grabbing your hand dragging you through the corridors, it was only the both of you and the sound of your footsteps disturbed the silent scene spreading before your eyes. You had been in that place several times through your youth and adulthood; it was one of your favourite places in the whole world and you had a sneaking suspicion this part of the date had been America’s contribution.

“No way…” you whispered this time around walking faster until it was you the one dragging Wanda behind you, your smile grew just as you turned around and found the planetarium had been fixed in such a way that right in the middle of the ground there was a single table with two chairs.

You had been there when your father was helping around on the renovations, at that time you were but eight years old, but the idea behind these new arrangements was to make camping-like scenario for some of the youngest people that would fill the place in the future. The idea was to make of this dome of the most accurate and real in the whole country.

Let’s make it feel as if they were actually outside, watching the stars above their heads on a nice, summer night.

Your face broke into a nostalgic smile as the words of your father filled your mind.

Wanda took a deep breath her hand squeezing yours tenderly, her heart beating fast just as you let go while strolling around the place. The planetarium was located on the west wing of the building, it was the biggest in the east coast and it usually held some of the most important films about astronomy and history in the whole country. The projection dome was done with neutral colours with a LED system that came along with the latest technology for audio and special effects. It had been a couple of years since you last were inside the Domo and finding yourself in the midst of such a place only brough a bubble of happiness that spread all through your senses.

Everything was already set up, and the lights that were lighting up the place were just centred on the single table with two chairs right in the middle of the room. Instead of the normal chairs that were placed around the theatre, you found yourself looking at a scene that never thought possible and you knew right there and there of all the effort that Wanda had taken that very first time to give you the perfect date.

“Do you…do you like it?” Wanda finally broke the silence approaching you with a tentative stare in her eyes, she approached the table signalling the cutlery with the table, the glasses of wine and the single bottle resting on a small side table inside a bucket filled with ice.

You turned to the woman standing beside you, it was quite incredible that even after all she had done there was still some trepidation in her features, the nervous picking of her fingers while she tried to offer explanations of how everything came to be. Of the careful planning she did to make sure everything would be ready, that everything would be there on time.

You stopped her tirade just as she was about to tell you she chose as the main course had been lasagne accompanied by a white wine.

Wanda got her words tangled in her throat, her lips trembling lightly until she lifted her arms to return your hug. For the very first time, after what happened in New Year and the process of recovery you and Wanda allowed the comfort of a single hug.

“This is amazing.” You whispered making sure she could feel everything you were experimenting at the moment.

Wanda closed her eyes, taking in the sweet aroma of your perfume and surrendering to the warm of your body. You leaned back, brushing your fingers on her hair while taking in the marks on her eyes and the tentativeness behind her stare.

“Nobody had done this before, you know?”

“Really?” Wanda asked right away, you shook your head. Wanda pursed her lips stepping back a little.

“You don’t have to say that, you know?”

You furrowed your brows seeking her eyes with yours until she couldn’t look away from you.

“I mean it, Wands. I’ve been in many dates some of them were unique in the way the presented themselves, but…well, this…” You lifted your eyes to the dome stretching your arms while twirling around, “having someone worry enough to make something I like? Not many did, and not in the way I was expecting.”

“Well, I just thought…” Wanda turned around when the gates of the theatre opened and there came a couple of waitresses bringing over the food.

You grabbed Wanda’s hand leaning in to place a single kiss on her knuckles, the young woman rolled her eyes at your gesture but took it for what it was.

“Let’s eat, and discuss this, my lady.”

“Let me help you out.” Wanda replied walking fast to the closest chair pulling it out waiting for you to sit.

You grinned taking the chair while Wanda too the one right in front of you, the two young men worked was placing the plates filled with food while also serving the wine and leaving two glasses of water as well.

Everything was perfect, the smell of the fresh lasagne filled your nostrils and it was quite evident you couldn’t shake the smile adorning your features. Wanda puffed out her chest, a sense of pride overcame her knowing she had made it possible for you to not lose your smile or relaxed posture.

“This is delicious,” you moaned while tasting the food, Wanda blushed glancing at the food while nodding in agreement. “God you bought it in Olympia, didn’t you?”

“Yep, Ajak was very kind to offer the services of the waitress and the food and actually all the things you see here.”

“You really outdo yourself with the date, Wanda.”

Wanda lifted her face taking in your frame, she smiled going back to her food.

“I really wanted to make this special for you.” Wanda grabbed her wine frowning her brows for a moment, “I never thought I could be this special with anyone, let out feel like this for someone else.”

You focused on the food, but soon you noticed the sweet melody of a familiar song playing in the speakers inside the dome. Your eyes lighted up turning to Wanda who was offering a tiny smile, she really had thought about everything.

“Very well, what’s your ideal date?” You asked all of a sudden, Wanda was taken aback for a moment blinking at the randomness of the question.

“My ideal date?”

“Yep, you just said you couldn’t imagine being this special, but you are special, Wanda. Perhaps, you were never given the chance, but I know you must have something inside your head that cold be define as the perfect one.”

Wanda chewed on her lower lip, narrowing her eyes for a moment before leaning in.

“I have always thought that a walked down a beautiful part, or forest leading to a lake is an ideal date.” She stated thoughtfully, “mom used to take Pietro and me to this beautiful forest near the city back home, she always told us the stories of her youth, and I always thought that would be the perfect place to have a date or a marriage proposal.”

You nodded pursing your lips impressed, Wanda then turned to you her eyes gleaming strangely.

“How about yours?”

You opened your eyes blinking a couple of times before leaning over, “I have to say, this one? It’s at the top five of my favourite dates ever.”

Wanda made a face of disbelief but you stopped her with a gesture of your hand, you drank some wine shaking your head.

“I mean it.” You declared strongly, “I love history, and I love everything that has to do with museums and books, if you want to win my heart, this is the perfect spot to start over. But I would say the perfect date would be on Prague’s Strahov library. Now, that would be quite the adventure.”

The conversation soon flew the same way it did before the incident, you caught Wanda giving in while leaving the stress on her shoulders ease out and her expression relaxed while the conversation grew around the topics she handled well. You never lied to her, while you had your share amount of dates usually they involved other type of activities that, why you liked them at a time, they hardly related with one of your passions.

Laughter filled the planetarium; the acoustics of the place made it easy for the sound to be enhanced. The conversation grew around different topics, and soon whatever happened in the past, whatever physical wounds the both of you carried still were forgotten.

And it was in that moment you remembered why you fell in love with Wanda.

“Thank you, this was delicious.” You glanced at the waitress smiling gently at her, the young woman flushed returning the smile until she caught the glare coming from Wanda.

“I will bring the desert.” The young woman picked up the last of the dishes and hurried out of the place.

You cocked a brow at Wanda who had not stopped following the other woman with her glare, when she returned her attention to you it was only to find your amused smile adorning your features.

“Jealous much?” You chuckled when Wanda clicked her tongue looking away.

“Should I be?”

This time around you did laugh at the absurdity of the comment, Wanda rolled her eyes sending you a withering stare before huffing and crossing her arms. You waited until the dessert had been served and another bottle of wine was brought, this time around the rest of the lights went out and there was only a single one left to create a foggy atmosphere around the centre of the room.

“I think you are adorable when jealous.” You stood up serving the wine, you knew Wanda was following you with her eyes but for now you focused your attention to the task at hand. “I still remember that time in which you saw me and Carol, there is something utterly cute about it.”

“I’m not jealous, and I don’t think being jealous counts as adorable. Or cute.”

You clicked your tongue shaking your head, the glass was soon filled with the red beverage on the bottle. You passed the glass to Wanda who received it, the glint in her eyes told you she was enjoying the changed in the topic. Or perhaps, what she was enjoying was your attention. You nodded to her mobile taking your glass in your hands.

“They give you control of the room, didn’t they?”

Wanda pursed her lips glancing at her phone while nodding.

“Mr. Stark taught me the basics, and how to make sure that everything was perfect for the show.” Wanda mumbled, she gasped when you grabbed the phone seeking the app where Wanda was trying to handle the dome.

“You took my playlist, didn’t you?” This time around there was a hint of affection tainting your voice, Wanda nodded as if it was obvious.

“I wanted this to be about you.” She mumbled well aware that your eyes were now on her.

“Let’s make this about you and me, then.” You ran your thumb around the playlist until you found the song you were looking for. Your mouth broke into a smirk, and the sudden glint of mischief that appeared in your eyes made Wanda winced.

“What are you thinking?”

You left your glass of wine, stretching your hand to Wanda who took it without thinking it twice.

“Dance with me, my love.”

Wanda looked away with a tiny smile on her lips, her cheeks burning up while she started shivering under your hold. You stepped closer waiting for the song to start, your body moulding perfectly against Wanda’s one.

“I trust you know how to dance, Wands?”

“I…I know the basics.” She replied locking her eyes with you.

“Then, let me stir you around the curves.” You winked at her, loving the sound of her laughter.

The sound of the trumpet was the first thing that came into the speakers, and soon the music formed around the voice of Elle Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. Wanda snickered gasping when you twirled her around before pressing her body to yours, the dance started slowly with you just swinging around.

“Why that song?” Wanda finally asked, you shrugged with memory written in your eyes.

“Mom used to listen to it, America’s mom.” You clarified, “her mother used Elle to perfect her English when they first came here.”

Wanda nodded leaning closer, her arms sneaking around the nape of your neck. You wiggled your eyebrows bringing another chuckled from the young woman.

“And she taught you how to dance?”

“Yep.”

“Mom used to teach us as well,” Wanda rested her forehead against yours, “ours was more classical, but still it was nice. She was a little obsess of making me be a debutant, and Pietro a escort in the traditional sense.”

Wanda furrowed her brows at the memory, but whatever memory came with it soon was forgotten and replaced with a content smile.

“It was actually nice, and I enjoyed it greatly.”

“I would love to dance something classical, any song in mind?” You asked tentatively, Wanda opened her eyes a little taken aback by your inquiry.

“You want to? Really?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Wanda tilted her head thinking for a moment until the song finished and the both of you stood in the middle of the room just looking at one another. The young woman leaned in kissing you tentatively, when she parted from you your heart was already trembling under the sheer passion she shared through the kiss.

“No, perhaps later, right now I want to keep spoiling you.”

Not sooner had she said this, Wanda turned around making her way to the futons resting on the floor. She fixed them with care, full aware of your curious eyes on her; woman made sure to take her jacket off of her and fix everything so the both of you could rest comfortably on the floor.

“What else did you plan?” You finally asked approaching her with the same amount of curiosity, Wanda was smiling shrugging lightly.

“You’ll see, don’t be impatient.” Wanda hesitated for a moment before turning to you, “do you mind serving the wine and bring it over?”

“Not at all.” With one last glance you turned to the table ready to serve the wine when all of a sudden the lights went out.

You froze on the spot, lifting your head to see if perhaps it had been a malfunction in the system or there was something else involved. Soon, you could feel the breeze touching your heated face, the small resounding of drums that went increasing until music of ancient design filled the room and a single dot of white appeared on the far edge of the screen crossing the dome above your head like a shooting star.

You gasped turning around to see Wanda smiling at you, she had dismissed her heels and her coat approaching you while the music transformed into a soothing melody. She locked her eyes with yours, and while you couldn’t see it, you could feel her trembling hands on your blazer helping you out of it while fixing the posture of your sling.

No words were needed it when those fingers worked around the bottoms of your shirt and then she took you to the futons she had fixed on the ground. With a stretch out hand, you allowed her to direct you to the ground almost chocking on your spit when she knelt in front of you taking your shoes off of you.

“Wanda…” You couldn’t keep the silence, but your voice sounded strangled almost fearful to break the spell the both of you seemed to be in.

“This is about you.” She replied simply, crawling to you her lips found yours in the sweetest of kisses the both of you had shared so far.

You found yourself on your back, those lips dancing with yours in a silent invitation. Your heart was beating hard, you were sure the sound of the drums had long ago been replaced by the sound of your heart. Your put your open hand on the back of Wanda’s neck putting her closer until you were on your back and she was almost on top of you.

“I love you.” Wanda all but whisper in your ear, her face almost hidden in the crook of your neck while her warm breath caressed the skin behind your ear.

There was a moment of silence, your heart finally stopped while you registered those words coming from her. You never expected Wanda to say those three words any time soon, you understood the kind of pressure she had been in, and the life she had been living before meeting you. Hell, the amount of time the both of you had known each other wouldn’t give you both enough time to say such a deep declaration, yet you couldn’t deny what you had been feeling for the woman hovering above you at the moment.

Your eyes found those emerald ones, the affection she had always shown you was there gleaming with hope. She waited with her lips swollen, and a dust of pink on her cheeks; Wanda leaned in her nose playing with yours while her eyes closed to engrave the moment in her mind.

“I love you.” She said it again, this time around louder, stronger and you knew she meant it. Every single word.

Your eyes flickered soon to the screen above your head, this time around everything changed and it was as if the both of you were right outside. The night sky was gleaming above your head, with a million started twinkling merrily at you, the start gliding slowly until the movement of the starts start speeding up and soon everything changed and the first constellations came upon the screen.

Wanda could see the stars reflecting in your eyes, she was very careful with her weight always favouring your right side. Her lips curled into a smile when your face lit up with glee at the sight above your head; she remembered the first time she asked for help. America and Hope had been so sure about their proposal that Wanda couldn’t say no, but she opted to add some of the things she had learned from you in those conversations in the middle of the night.

“I love you, too.” You finally replied back, this time around those eyes were filled with affection and completely focused on Wanda.

The young woman dipped her head turning on her side until she was resting right beside you, her hand sneaking comfortably around your midsection.

“I’m sorry it took me this long to say it,” Wanda started but before you could reply she shot you a quick glance shaking her head, “you had been my saviour in so many ways. You can imagine where I was when I first met you.”

“I was a bitch on that meeting.” You recalled, but Wanda merely chuckled nodding.

“You were and I hated you for that.” Wanda turned to you never losing her smile or the affection in her voice, “and then I got to know you and I was…confused. You were making me feel so much, in so little time, and I was afraid.”

Wanda snuggled closer to you, “I’m not afraid anymore, and after thinking about it I realized I love you. As in, I’m in love with you, Y/N, and I don’t think I can stop my heart right now…”

“Why would you stop it?” You inquired turning on your side, wincing when you put some stressed on your left arm.

“I don’t know, what if…”

You leaned in kissing Wanda before she could finish her sentence, Wanda giggled welcoming the kiss before making sure you were back on your back instead of putting some unnecessary stress on your arm.

“Don’t think about the what ifs, Wanda.” You nodded to the sky above your heads, the music had changed into winds and cords, and the story of the first constellations came to be right in front of your eyes.

“I know it is too soon, still. That there is a lot to work on, but if you allowed it…I will be by your side until the last start in the sky had been consume by time.”

Wanda leaned closer to you, her face hidden once more by your neck though this time around you could feel her lips on your neck.

“How do you do it? How can you say such things and make me tremble until there is nothing else but you?”

“It’s a gift.” You chuckled when Wanda lifted her face rolling her eyes.

“I want to be with you, for as long as you want me, Y/N.”

“Then, let’s be together.” You sneaked your arm around her putting her on top of you, “let’s be a family and see where it goes.”

“I love you, and I just wanted to make sure you knew it.” Wanda insisted, you nodded pecking her nose.

“I know.”

“I wanted to make of this night something special,” Wanda said her hand lifting to cup your face and soon her fingers started dancing down your jaw to your neck to the open shirt. For you it was soon evident what she meant, and while she tried to look confident in what she was doing you could see the flash of uncertainty in her eyes.

Her hand was trembling, whatever expertise she had tried to show soon vanished when you realized she was getting closer to your chest.

“You don’t have to…you know?” You could see the glint of hesitation in her green eyes, Wanda clenched them closed in frustration. “Hey, Wands…look at me.”

It took a moment, but then she lifted her eyes and soon she was looking right at you.

“I don’t need sex to know I love you and that my heart is already yours, Wands. And I don’t need you to prove it to me; Wands whenever you are ready I’ll be here more than happy to make you scream in passion.”

Wanda gasped this time around her blush grew from her chest all the way to her cheeks, she tried to look away from you but you made it impossible for her to do so. Your wounded arm finding her face in a single caress.

“How can you be so understanding? God, I just…” Wanda leaned against your touch, “I feel foolish.”

“Never, Love, I just know… and I’m not in any hurry, whenever you are ready, I’ll be ready as well.”

Wanda sighed and whatever tension had been building around her left her body, this time around, when she kissed you she did it with the promise of the future. She laid down by your side, and soon she focused her stare on the stars above your head.

“I love it, this moment just you and me…”

“I thought we need it, you have been amazing with the twins but…” Wanda trailed off shrugging, “I think we were also needing this time to know one another. To actually share in an alone time.”

You smiled nodding your agreement, her hand found yours and soon your fingers intertwined with hers. The stars danced above your heads, and soon your voice joined the music and the different scenes playing with the constellations. You filled in the gaps with the stories you recognized, with Wanda asking questions or helping in the narration until soon you two were talking about mythology and reality.

“I wish this night would never end,” Wanda whispered glancing at the projection of the stars above her head, the show was about to end and she couldn’t help but voice what she had been experimenting in her heart.

“It doesn’t have to be over.” You replied turning to Wanda, the other woman furrowed her brows and you pressed your lips together turning on your side so you were facing her.

“Someday, right?” Wanda replied locking her eyes with yours.

“Someday.”

She smiled snuggling closer to you, “for now I wouldn’t say no to you sleeping with me, I mean without…I…”

You snickered placing a kiss on her forehead, “I know.”

“Did you imagine this will end like this?” Wanda finally asked, her eyes focusing on the sky above her head.

“No, I imagine it will start like this.” You glanced at the same stars, the same shooting star you saw at the beginning gleaming in the distance ready to travel through the sky.

“What do you mean?” Wanda scrunched up her nose, you placed a single kiss on her forehead nodding to the sky.

“I imagine this is how my relationship with you will start, and that after today we just ready to face the new challenges this relationship may bring.” You shrugged glancing down at Wanda, “I’ve been in love before, but…with you? It feels right, as if I was waiting for you.”

Wanda opened her eyes lightly before her expression softened.

“I realised that when…when you stood by my side regardless of my past.” Wanda rested her head on your shoulder, “I think this is the first time I have been in love and, I want you to be the only one.”

“well, love, you have a shooting star to make your wishes a reality.” You pointed to the screen and soon the shooting star crossed the dome and the show was over.

“what did you wish for?” Wanda inquired turning to you, you winked at her nuzzling her nose with yours.

“It’s a secret.”

“That’s not fair! You know what I ask for!”

“I do?” You furrowed your brows, Wanda nodded looking away for a moment before locking her eyes with yours.

“I wish for you to be my one and only love.”

You were shocked for a moment, but soon you answered to such words by kissing Wanda softly.

“And you?” Wanda finally said once you parted from the kiss.

“Me? Well, love, you will have to wait.” You smirked when Wanda seemed indignant at your declaration.

“Oh, come on!”

You pocked her nose, leaning in to kiss her pouting face away.

“Nu-uh, Princess, patience is a virtue, and I know you will know what I wish for with time.”

Wanda groaned in mock frustration, she was about to stand up but her hand grabbed her phone and soon a new projection started in the dome. You raised a single eyebrow when Wanda pinned you to the futon, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Well, then, meanwhile I will just do the second part of my wish.”

“Second part?” Wanda nodded leaning in.

“Yep, I wish to kiss you, and show you how much I love you, how much I thank the skies for having me given the opportunity of meeting you.” Wanda then leaned closer to your face, “I wish to kiss you until the story above our heads is no more and the only option you have is to take me home and spend the night with me.”

“Then, my lady, allow me to make those wishes a reality.”

Their laughter soon filled the dome, and it came accompanied by a sudden gasp and the sound of kissing and playful banter.

Wanda never imagined that her decision to leave Vision would end up with her finding herself, while in the process getting a job and making new friends. Not even in her wildest dreams did Wanda imagine that she would come across someone like you that, for the very first moment create a lasting impression on her to the point Wanda decided to explore the relationship.

Her past had finally stayed in the past, with Vision in jail and her getting the full custody of her children, Wanda now was sure she could secure her future while at the same time seek out the peace and happiness she so desperately needed. Now, with you kissing her slowly while sharing a moment of pure, and unrestrained happiness, Wanda knew that every single decision she had taken had led her to that moment, it had led her to you.

And she didn’t regret it.

With you, Wanda understood that she didn’t need to lie to herself, that she didn’t need to hide or to run. With you, Wanda discovered she could be herself and finally give in.

To be loved, and to love.

That was all that matter.

**********

Three years later

Morning had arrived with a bright sun, and no clouds in the sky.

You served the coffee while glancing out the window, the sound of running footsteps brought a smile to your face knowing that the holidays were the perfect opportunity for the twins to break havoc. No sooner had you thought this, Billy and Tommy came through the door wearing the baggy pants and the t-shirt they had chosen to wear that day.

“Morning, Y/N!” Billy came to you wrapping his arms on your midsection before going to the fridge, Tommy chuckled sitting down on the stool waiting until Billy brought two glasses and set the orange juice on the table.

“You guys have a lot of energy for a Monday morning.” You hummed when they shook their heads innocently.

“Nu-uh, just…America told us she would take us to the lake.” Tommy said shrugging.

“And, we haven’t said anything about…you know.” Billy mumbled looking around the room before settling his eyes on you, “so we thought you would be happy to know we will be out of your hair today!”

You chuckled ruffling his hair affectionately, setting your coffee on the table while serving the orange juice to the boys.

They had grown a great deal and now at seven they were far smarter than you or even Wanda gave them credit for. Three years ago, you never thought possible to fall in love again, nor did you thought whatever started as a tentative relationship would end up being the best that happened to you. You glanced at the boys that started talking animatedly while mentioning the different places America and Kate were supposed to taken them to, you smiled knowing your sister adored them and was about ready to do whatever they wanted as long as she got to spend some time to them.

You sighed leaning against the counter taking a long sip from the coffee, in the last years a lot of things had changed in your life. America had finally found her passion, she had decided to pursue a career in international affairs and her path led her directly into one of the most important universities in Europe, which ended up with Kate studying a couple of miles away from her. Whatever had started as a school crush, it had developed into a serious relationship that both of them had dealt with maturity.

You had finally gotten the time you needed to organise the business, and while your presence was always required when important matters arise, you had taken it upon yourself to be in charge of the development section of the company. It was easier, and it gave you the time you needed to spend with Wanda and the children.

The sound of childish argument brough a smile into your face, soon you caught the well-known voice of your girlfriend and your heat melt right away when Wanda appeared behind the hall wearing a familiar frown while placing her hands on her hips.

“Okay, you two, stop this argument right now or there won’t be any outing with America.”

“Yes, mum!” The twins said at the same time focusing on their beverages.

You locked your eyes with Wanda, your lips curling into a smile while the woman softened completely making her way to where you were standing casually. She leaned in pecking your lips while stealing your mug.

“Morning.” You whispered wrapping your arm around her hips, she giggled leaning forward before accepting a deeper kiss.

“Ugh, mom!”

“Y/N!”

You finished the kiss turning to them, “I will hold you to this moment when you guys bring over your partners home and decided to kiss them in front of us.”

“No!”

“Never!”

“I would never be this corny!”

“Never!”

You chuckled rolling your eyes, Wanda leaned in kissing you one more time before going to the coffee maker and serving another cup of coffee. You glanced at your watch knowing America would be there any moment now, your heart beating a tad bit faster while the heavy void you had felt on your lower abdomen increased and your chest tightened at what you had planned for the day.

Tommy and Billy glanced at one another before placing their hands on their mouth and snickering, you mock glared at them and the sudden exchanged didn’t go amiss to Wanda. The young woman narrowed her eyes standing right beside you.

“Okay, what is it?” She asked, and her suspicions only grew when the three of you answered at the same time.

“Nothing!”

You glanced at the twins, the three of you started laughing while Wanda softened her features. Even if she got curious, and a little wary, she couldn’t help but love these moments in which you and the twins would behave like a family. Once she had given in, you became the light of her life, your smile and your occurrences were always a source of amusement and tenderness, and the twins had come to love you in ways Wanda thought would be difficult to do so. They accept you faster than what she thought, and ever since that day after the planetarium you and her had been together in the good, the bad, the ugly and the pretty.

“You guys…” Wanda started but whatever she was going to say was cut short by a knock on the door.

“Save by the bell, guys! That must be America, love.” You gave Wanda a quick peck on her lips before running towards the door, once more the twins looked at one another before holding back their snickers.

“Okay, what is it?”

“Nu-uh, mom, it’s a secret!” Tommy said emptying the glass in a single sip.

“We promised not to say anything, mom.” Billy continued shrugging before approaching Wanda and offering her a hug, “but I love you!”

Wanda narrowed her eyes hugging Billy back, “I love you too, both of you.”

“Hey!! Where are my favourite guys in the whole world?!”

America stretched her arms to welcome Billy and Tommy, Kate rolled her eyes moving past them with a smile to greet Wanda. Wanda chuckled when their attention turned to Kate, America approached her wrapping her arms around the young woman.

“Ugh, I missed you so much, Wands! How’s everything? My sister still giving you trouble?”

“Hey! I never gave her any trouble, did I?” You pouted standing beside Wanda, the other woman shook her head putting you closer to her.

“Never, my love, you are a well-behaved girlfriend whenever you and the twins are not playing to break havoc.” Wanda pecked your lips turning to America. “Everything is perfect, but I have a feeling my girlfriend and my sons are planning something I should know about.”

This times around America opened her eyes with her mouth hanging opened, Kate gasped and the twins put their hands on their mouths. You snorted rolling your eyes, with this level of secrecy it was a surprised Wanda had not really discovered what you had planned for her that day.

“No, I mean there is no…Oh, look at the time, guys are you ready?” Kate babbled looking around while trying to evade any interaction with Wanda who had her eyes on her.

America snorted softening her stare while her girlfriend took the twins to their room, she then turned to Wanda who had a single eyebrow lifted waiting for an explanation she would not receive. At least, not from America.

“Don’t look at me, I’m just a passerby ready to take the twins on an adventure of a lifetime.” She said lifting her arms, Wanda snorted turning to you.

“You know, sooner or later I will find out your secrets?”

“I’m counting on it, Wands.” You whispered leaning in to kiss her, “now, how about you go and take a bath and I help America around.”

Wanda nodded dreamily, she gave you a quick smile before turning to America and giving the young woman another hug.

“It is good to see you again, America, see you tonight at dinner, right?”

“Yeo, we will be there!” America glanced at Wanda walking away, she waited until she was pretty sure Wanda had left before turning to you. “Well?”

“Well? You’re the one who should tell me if everything is ready!” You whispered harshly at your sister glancing down the corridor before settling your eyes on America.

The young woman rolled her eyes, but her lips played a familiar smile while she tapped something on her phone. Soon you were giving a fine idea of what she had prepared with the help of Kate and your friends; it had been hard at first to get what you needed to make of that day special. Your face lit up completely, and America could see the ghost of a smile on your lips while your eyes scanned the images she had store on her phone.

When you first shared with America your intentions, the young woman had been excited. In the last couple of years, she had seen the love between you and Wanda grow in something completely different. It was not the same relationship you shared with Shuri, and certainly it wasn’t the same type of relationship Wanda had shared with Jarvis. The both of you had been the best that could happen to the other, Wanda had learnt to love and be love, to trust in herself while also trust in the affection others held for her. You learnt to let go and to actually trust in the person beside you, you got to see how Wanda was ready to be a part of your life without losing her own little universe with the twins.

It had been a rocky path, there were fights, and sometimes it was quite difficult to fight against the demons of the past. But, America knew, if it hadn’t been because of the deep love you two felt for one another, the relationship would have been over years ago.

“I think she will love it, and I’m just…” America trailed off before offering you a quick hug, “I think this is amazing.”

You sighed putting your hand inside your pocket, the squared box resting inside your pocket.

“Thank you, this looks amazing.” You glanced at the hall before turning to America, “at what time you think we can go over there?”

“Mmm, I would say the best would be around 4pm, we will be there waiting for you so…” America waved her hands excited, “God, I can’t hardly wait, please tell me if anything happens.”

“I will, Kiddo, thank you.” You wrapped your arms around her, “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too.” America chuckled when she caught the excited chatter of the twins and Kate coming over, “now, I will take them off of your plate for a while, we will have time to get up to date, for now, go!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You watched as they left in the midst of laughter and light conversation, your hand sneaking inside your pocket putting out the black box you had bought a long time ago. Your heart skipped a beat, your hand clenching tightly around it ready to give the next step in your relationship with Wanda. Your lips broke into a tender smile, the memories of the last three years filling up your mind with determination and love.

“Y/N?”

You put the box away turning to see Wanda approaching you slowly, the swinging of her hips and that flirty smile she wore made your mouth go dry and your lower abdomen tingled with anticipation.

“Yes?” You asked, Wanda came to you chewing on her lower lip playfully.

“Since the kids are gone, and you and I are alone, I thought…we could shower together, don’t you think?” This was said in a low, husky tone, her lips wrapping around your earlobe while her hands sneaked inside your shirt.

“I think…you have a wicked mind, Wands.” You replied, but before Wanda could do or said anything else you took her in your arms crashing your lips to hers.

Needless to say, you and she left the home later than what you should, but the both of you had satiated the thirst you had for one another. Love evident in your faces, as you walked around the city hand by hand.

_________________________________

The country of Sokovia was a beautiful land with a rich past and a colourful landscape.

Wanda had been excited when you announced the trip, not really believing you were going to comply with her wishes until you present her with the four plane tickets. By the time you four had arrived at the city of Novi Grad, Wanda had been completely excited telling you and her children all about her hometown. She spoke of the difficult times they had lived, and the wonderful things the new government had done to fix the mistakes of the past.

Billy and Tommy had been avid listeners, and they had started talking to Wanda and to you in sokovian while Wanda was just completely happy with the development on their vacations. You had been just happy to see her smile, to see the excitement in her eyes when she pointed to all the places she remembered.

“I still can believe you brought me here.” Wanda said sitting down on the table right outside a beautiful balcony looking at the far away mountains covering half of the city.

“Why not?” You replied taking the menu with a smile, “if anything, I should be sorry for taking so long, but you know? Life has been getting in the way, and I wanted for you to have time to enjoy this place.”

Wanda didn’t know how you did it, the way you were always giving it your all to make her happy. She leaned forward placing her hand on top of yours.

“This is perfect, and it’s the perfect time.”

You smiled back at her, looking at the menu while glancing at the watch on your wrist. You were getting restless as the time for the main event approached; Wanda was looking at her menu pursing her lips before returning her attention to you.

“Can I order something for you? There is something in here I want you to try out…” She trailed off glancing away for a moment, a shadow crossing her eyes, “it is something mom used to cook for me and Pietro and I just…”

“I would love to, Wands. Go ahead, you’re the expert so we will do as you said.” You replied closing the menu, you waited until the food had been ordered before leaning forward playing with Wanda’s fingers.

“You know? Now that you mentioned this about the food, I remember the story you told me once.”

“Which one?” Wanda furrowed her brows blinking away while trying to remember.

“The one about the forest, is around here, isn’t it?”

The way her eyes opened wide, and her whole face lit up made your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her as she turned around trying to point out the direction in which the forest was located.

“Yes! Oh, I can believe you remember…”

“I remembered everything you tell me, love.” You replied, and it was the tone of voice you used what made Wanda turned to you with narrowed eyes, you softened your features offering a reassuring smile to her.

“I always make the effort to have it in my mind so I can make sure to bring happiness to you, to see the very same expression you are wearing at the moment.”

Wanda turned her head away, her cheeks burning bright red while she smiled tenderly at your words. Even after all this time you still got to make her feel so self-conscious of the love you profess to her.

“I love you for that.” Wanda finally said, and you smiled back at her winking.

“Well, what about you and I go over there after lunch? I’m pretty sure at this time of the year must be quite the sight.”

“You mean it?” Wanda exclaimed excitedly, you nodded and soon thank the heavens you were sitting down for the kiss she gave you made your knees trembled and your whole body tingled with anticipation.

******

The afternoon was falling slowly, the wind was cold so the burning sun above your heads was not as strong as it could have been in a dry weather.

You and Wanda walked down the city, your hand joined in a single embrace while conversation flew with easiness. The topics varied from school, to your work, to the recent happenings of the world, to the twins and America; soon you two found yourselves talking about movies and books, the places you would like to visit or the worlds you would like to be in.

Life with Wanda was never bored, and every single time you discovered something new about her that made you fall in love with her even more.

Her excitement at being in her country was something you would cherish forever.

She dragged you down the streets, and then down the pebbled road leading to the forest. The place had changed since she was last there, it was now a national park that had been taken care off with the strictest rules and cares a country could provide to such a beautiful setting.

You took a deep breath when the road spread before your eyes, your eyes lifted to the signs, most of them pointing to different sections of the forest. Your eyes finally fell on the word Lake, and you lifted your hand to point it out to your girlfriend.

“There, lake, can we go there?”

“Yes, of course!”

You chuckled when she just grabbed your hand again, she twirled around wrapping her arms around your neck leaning in to kiss you slowly.

“Have a told you how much I love you?” She asked playfully, you placed your hands on her waist helping her walked backwards while you advanced down the road with her in your arms.

“Mmhm, not recently, no. I think I need a reminder.”

Wanda giggled leaning in, her kisses were soft and tentative, “I love you, Y/N, every time I think this is not possible, I fall in love with you even more and I just…”

Your heart shrank at her confession, putting her to you with your lips moulding against hers you poured all the love you felt for her.

“I love you to, Wands.”

Wanda sighed standing by your side lifting her face to the trees above her, her eyes gleaming happily just as the both of you advanced towards the lake. The forest was located it twenty minutes away from the city, and the entrance had been built around a public parking lot where people could acquire all the necessary materials for camping or a nice picnic. Some of the different paths had been fixed to give easy access to the people that visit the place, but the road leading to the lake had been left untouched with the nature almost claiming it back.

You were admiring the huge trees surrounding the area, the sound of the birds and other animals running around to hide away from the humans. You lifted your stare to see the blue sky above your head, and the cold breeze touching your heated skin. Everything was quiet and peaceful, only the sound of your footsteps seemed to interrupt the sounds of the nature.

Your eyes lifted squinting them when you spot the opening right ahead of you, your lips curling slightly when you finally spotted something else. You had arrived to the lake, with a quick gesture you stood before Wanda stopping her advanced towards her destination.

“What is it?” Just like she did early in the morning, she narrowed her eyes with a glint of suspicion gleaming in them. You shifted your weigh from one foot to the other, your hand scratching the back of your neck while your eyes danced around instead of facing Wanda.

You stood before her, your hand sneaking inside your pocket until you brough forth a single blindfold. She cocked a brow, half-amused, half-expectant at what you had planned.

“I may or may not have planned something for you.” You said tentatively, Wanda snorted but all you could see in her face was love and amusement.

“Figures, and I bet Billy, Tommy, America and Kate are in it?” She already knew the answer, but there was something else she couldn’t pinpoint to.

“Yep.” You admitted lifting your hand, “there is something… I mean, it is a surprised.”

“And I have to wear the blindfold.” Wanda grabbed the piece of clothing, never losing her smile, she winked at you, “kinky, perhaps later on we can use it for other…kind of surprised?”

You laughed out loud shaking your head while helping the brunette put on the blindfold.

“I love how your wicked mind works, Mrs. Maximoff.”

“Well, I love it when you play along, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

You let out a deep breath, the sun was still high in the sky and now Wanda stood before you blindfolded. Her hand found yours, squeezing comfortingly with that beautiful smile you had come to love and crave.

“Are you okay?” She finally asked, you swallowed down your doubts nodding before you remembered she couldn’t see you.

“I am.” Then, as an afterthought, “I’m just nervous.”

Wanda brought your hand to her lips, never losing her smile.

“Whatever it is you prepared for me, I know I would love it and…Y/N…there is no one else I would love to be with right now, you are the love of my life.”

You chuckled loving the tenderness Wanda used when talking to you, the fact she had come to know your insecurities and was always ready to reassure you of her love and your worth.

“And you are mine, Wands, now let’s go…”

You grabbed her hand and without wasting any more time you led her down the road towards the lake.

The lake was a great extension of water that spread out before a small beach surrounded by the forest. It was filled with grass, trees and bushes, with a crystalline water that was reflecting the light of the sun and the colour of the sky at the moment. This part of the forest was usually used for light lunches, and some swimming but at this time of the year the place was emptied and you had taken advantage of your money to get this small spot for you and your family for a couple of hours.

There was a single bench that had been decorated with red and pink, there were some balloons with a bucket filled with ice and wine. You helped your girlfriend so she could sit on the bench, all around her there was nothing more than flowers, blue lilies and orchids, the full scene had been planned out and built with the help of America and Kate that had just come from their hiding place with the twins.

You smiled at them putting a finger to your lips, standing before Wanda you pulled your mobile out of your pocket and let a single song filled the silence around the both of you.

“Oh, that’s…” Wanda trailed off when she recognized the trumpets and the melodic voice of Elle Fitzgerald. “Y/N…”

Your name sound beautifully on her lips, you took a deep breath looking around the place knowing you had chosen right. The lake was gleaming to your right, while the forest stood to your left, the mountains wearing a white bald head projected a protective shadow on the valley. This was what Wanda had always desired, what she had harboured in her heart when she still believed in love.

“Y/N…” She repeated your name, this time around with a hint of apprehension in her voice.

You knelt before her, your left knee touching the ground while your right knee bend to hold your elbow up your hand opening the box you had been carrying with you for over a year.

“You can take the blindfold off, Wanda.” You finally said, and your voice trembled with the sheer emotion you were experimenting at the moment.

Wanda took her blindfold, soon her breath caught in her throat and whatever sight she had before her became a blurred of colours and familiar images. Right in front of her was the lake and the forest of her childhood, the very same she had visited in her mind and memory after leaving Sokovia behind. Her green eyes flickered around until they found your eyes, and soon they fell upon the box in your hand and the silver ring resting in there.

The music was still playing around the both of you, and Wanda wanted to see if there was someone else or if the both of you were alone. But she was incapable of looking everywhere but at you.

Your lips trembled, your hand trying to hold still as you cleared your throat lifting your chin to face her with determination and love.

“Wanda Maximoff, I have brought you here because I love you.” You stated taking a deep breath making sure you never wavered in your intentions. “I realized a long time ago I can’t even think of the possibility of not having you by my side, of not living and growing old with you.”

Wanda sat frozen on the bench, her heart hammering hard against her chest while her stomach drop and her body tingled all over until a heavy pressured settled on her chest.

“I have loved you from the moment I met you, I just didn’t know it yet.” You chuckled shaking your head, “and I would love to make you happy, to love you, to cherish you, and to be your friend, your partner if you allow me…so, today in this place and with my heart on my hands, I want to ask you…”

“Yes…” Wanda whispered, you furrowed your brows shaking your head.

“No, wait, I need to ask…”

“Marry me?” Wanda asked, her voice trembling and her lips breaking into a content smile, you frowned though your eyes gleamed with amusement.

“No, you marry me, please?”

Wanda threw herself at you, her arms wrapped tightly around you while you fell to the ground hugging her back. She was sobbing, her voice a mere whispered in your ear.

“Yes, yes, I will…Yes, I marry you.”

You laughed turning your head and kissing her deeply.

“Then, yes, I marry you too, Wands.”

America and Kate both rolled their eyes, but the twins were squealing excitedly no longer able to hold themselves the run towards you and Wanda joining in the embrace.

Wanda turned to them surprised, returning their hug while turning to you and stretching her left hand where you placed the ring on her finger. Your smile was huge, and it was matching hers with the twins hugging both of you while talking excitedly.

“That means I can call you mom now?!” Tommy finally asked with you almost choking on your spit.

Wanda rolled her eyes fixing his hair before lifting her eyes to glance at you.

“Only if she wants to, Tommy.”

“You want to, don’t you, Y/N?” Tommy asked pouting, you ruffled his hair putting him to you.

“Only if I get to call you Tommy bear!”

Laughter soon filled the lake, with everyone enjoying the rest of the afternoon while you alongside with Kate, America and Wanda toast to the engagement.

“I can believe you…” Wanda closed the distance tilting her head to taste your lips with hers, you smile into the kiss with your hands placing themselves on her hips.

“You remember…” She said softly, in between kisses.

“I never forgot, Wands. With you, everything is easier, you know? I love you, and I just…I want to make you happy.”

“You make me happy already.” She replied leaning into your embrace, “but I will be complete the moment I can call you my wife.”

You smiled placing a single kiss on her forehead.

“I will be complete the moment I can call you wife as well.”

Wanda turned in your arms, her eyes following her children while they talked and played along with America and Kate. You placed your chin on her shoulder, watching the same scene with a soft smile adorning your features. The young woman lifted her hand to see the ring you had placed moments ago, a green stone that matched her eyes and white gold recovering the ring.

Her life was finally hers, and her happiness was finally something she knew she deserved and that was right there for her to live it. Wanda never imagined the moment she made the decision of leaving Vision her life would change so drastically, she never even played with the idea of falling in love again or finding someone ready to be patient with her past and fall in love with her.

Wanda never entertained the idea of anyone wanting to marry someone like her, damage and with two kids that were still growing up. Then, she met you. And she couldn’t imagine being without you by her side.

With you, she learnt to love again, to trust and to give herself without fear.

“Tonight, America and Kate are taking the twins to a festival and then back to their Air BnB so…we have the house for ourselves, to celebrate.” You whispered playfully, Wanda leaned back placing her hands on yours.

She tilted her head with her lips teasing yours.

“Then, let’s celebrate with them first, before I show you my appreciation for all the wonderful things you do for me.”

“It’s a deal, Love.”

“Y/N.” She called your name with a serious tone, you turned to her welcoming her kiss before smiling goofily at her.

“What was that for?”

“I love you.” She said simply, you softened squeezing her hand comfortingly.

“I love you, now and forever.”

And, of that, Wanda didn’t have any doubt for she too love you now and forever, until the end of time.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader #Female reader #Wanda Maximoff

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imaginespazzi · 4 months

Text

You Weren't Mine To Lose

They think they're so good at pretending when all they're really good at is pining.

(In which a masochistic writer puts her beloved ship through hell until giving them their much deserved happy ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 8.2K (idk how this happened but oops? 🙈)

TW: Implied sexual content, mentions of panic attacks, small mention of blood, alcohol, and lots of swearing

“I think that maybe we should end this.”

Azzi Fudd had been on the receiving end of plenty of harsh sentences. And she’d been certain that there wasn’t a sentence left on this planet that could hurt her more than the one the doctor had used to tell her about her torn acl. Until now, until Paige Bueckers, eyes drifting everywhere but towards the girl in front of her, had said those eight words.

“I just,” Paige pauses, rubbing her face, “I think I need something else.”

The words hit Azzi like acid rain, burning into her skin and infiltrating something she can’t quite explain in words. This wasn’t what she’d planned when she’d come searching for her best friend. No, she’d had an entirely different conversation in mind. She swallows the I love you, let’s be more, that had been on the tip of her tongue and chases it down with the carefully constructed speech of wanting forever and happily every after she’d written in her mind. The voice in her head shouts I fucking told you so, she was never yours and Azzi wants to scream.

But what comes out is a quiet, feeble, “okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Okay,” Azzi repeats, clearing her throat, trying to make her voice sound cavalier, “we said no strings and that means you can end it whenever you want. You don’t owe me any explanation and I won’t ask anything.”

“Right. No strings.”

It had been Azzi’s idea really, her stupid dumb self-preservationist idea that had led her to this moment. They’d been drunk the first time it had happened but she remembers it clearly.

Remembers the way an inebriated Paige had clung to her, eyes shining with lust.

Remembers the way Paige had whispered her name, desire clinging to each syllable.

Remembers the shivers that had crept up her spine as Paige’s hands had gone on a journey starting at her shoulders, and then down her arms, before finally rubbing circles around her waist.

Remembers the moment she decided fuck it.

But most of all she remembers the morning after, remembers the questions written all over Paige’s face, remembers making another decision. Just best friends who occasionally fuck, no strings, just fun. She’d been stupid to think that if she ignored them, the strings just wouldn’t exist. That if she pretended it was just sex, that she wasn’t so completely in love with her best friend, she would get over it. Newsflash: she hadn’t gotten over it.

“Well that’s that then,” Azzi says with a brightness she doesn’t feel, as she heads towards the door, desperate to get away, “I forgot Carol needed help with something so.”

“Azzi.”

She hates the hope that rises in her at the sound of her name. Tell me to stay. Tell me you didn’t mean it. Tell me you love me too.

“We’re still us right?” Paige asks quietly, her voice filled with uncharacteristic vulnerability.

“Of course Paige,” Azzi says, her back still turned towards Paige, knowing if she turns, if she lets Paige see her face, her best friend will see her words for the lies they are, “we’ll always be us.”

***

Azzi doesn’t know how she manages to get to Caroline’s room without falling to pieces. Her legs feel like they’re a second away from giving out and her arms shake uncontrollably. The dull beat of stress headache pounds in her skull.

“Ah Mrs. Bueckers,” Caroline smiles jubilantly as Azzi lets herself in, “did you guys finally figure it out?”

It takes her a second to catch her breath and to understand the meaning of Mrs. Bueckers. And then, Azzi breaks. Laughter erupts from her body and suddenly she’s cackling like a woman possessed. It sounds like shattering glass to her own ears and this is it, she thinks, I’ve officially reached peak madness. But she can’t stop, her body doubling over as she clutches at her stomach, tears beginning to leak from her eyes.

Caroline’s eyes widen, her smile slowly slipping off as the realisation that something has gone very wrong settles in.

“Azzi, fuck, what happened,” she asks, unsure of wether to approach the distressed girl, who, instead of answering, starts laughing harder, “shit, should I get Paige.”

Something shift’s at the mention of Paige’s name. The laughter dies away and instead, an unsettling panic takes birth in Azzi’s stomach at the idea of Paige seeing her like this.

“No,” she chokes out frantically, “don’t get Paige.”

Caroline’s concern grows at that. It had become a rule of sorts, if one of Paige or Azzi seemed to be going through it, then the best thing to do was to go find the other. They knew each other’s wants and needs better than anyone else could ever hope to. And what they wanted, was usually the other to hold them through the pain. So this, Azzi not asking for Paige, Azzi actively denying her need for Paige, this was bad, very bad.

“What happened Az?”

“She ended it,” the words leave Azzi’s mouth in tandem with the air leaving her lungs, “oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. She ended it. Fuck. She wants something else, something more and that’s not– I’m not– oh my god.”

“Az-”

“I knew this was a bad idea but- oh my god. She ended it,” tears wrack through her body as reality crashes and burns around Azzi, “I was so stupid, so, so stupid. I told you this would happen Caroline. I told you she didn’t feel the same. Oh my god, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.”

“Azzi,” Caroline grabs at the brown-skinned girl, spotting the tell-tale signs of panic attack, “breathe with me Az, come on, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Azzi manages to get out, gasping for air, her body vibrating with sobs, “it’s not going to be okay because she doesn’t love me. She doesn’t love me and I don’t know how to live with that because all I know is how to love her.”

Azzi feels the energy leave her body as she goes limp in Caroline’s arms, letting the taller girl anchor her. She’s not ready yet, not ready for tomorrow when she’ll inevitably have to play pretend. She’ll have to stand in the same room as her best friend and put on a smile and pretend that she wouldn’t rather be anywhere but there. She’ll have to bicker and tease and laugh with the girl who broke her heart and pretend that she’d never given her the power to break it in the first place. And Azzi would do it all, because that’s what she’d promised Paige. She’d looked in the blonde girl’s eyes at the age of fifteen and swore to her that no matter what happened, the two of them would always be them. They would always be okay. And Azzi was going to do everything in her power to keep that promise

***

The first few days are fine and Azzi almost deludes herself into believing that she's okay. They fall into their old rhythm of being just best friends almost seamlessly, at least they do when they’re with their teammates. She’s not ready to confront the fact that they haven’t been by themselves, just the two of them, since that night. And if Paige notices the way Azzi avoids being alone with her, she keeps it to herself.

The same way they didn’t tell anyone they were more, they don’t tell anyone they’re less. They don’t need to; the team just knows. Even the coaches, who knew but never said a word, can tell something’s off. It’s in the little hesitations before the smiles, the moments of pause before saying something. But most of all it’s in the way Paige and Azzi don’t touch at all anymore. There’s no more Paige making it a mission to find ways to let her hands linger just a little longer on Azzi’s body when she’s in defending her, no more not-so-subtle brushes and linking pinkies as they walk past each other in the hallways, no more “just another one” pecks in the training rooms as everyone else waits for them.

Nothing changes on the court. Paige passes the ball, a pass only she could see, and Azzi shoots it, a shot only she could get off. They play in tandem, their backcourt chemistry still perfect. But the slap of their hands after the ball goes through the hoop, is half-hearted and formal, like teammates. Less. So, maybe Azzi’s wrong. Maybe they haven’t really fallen back into their old patterns and maybe everybody knows it. But in the bright lights of the gym, as she and Paige argue over a defensive play, and the game of basketball keeps them tethered to each other, she thinks that this will have to be enough.

***

And then, things go from okay to very much not okay. It’s after practice and they’ve chosen Paige’s apartment as their relaxation spot, except Paige isn’t there. She’d snuck away after practice and Azzi had pretended, it’s all she seems to do these days, not to notice. She’s not used to not knowing where Paige is but she’d quenched the overwhelming need to ask the blonde girl where she was going while completely ignoring the part of her that wanted to ask if she could come along.

“And that’s how your brain eats itself,” Amari finishes a long winded explanation with a triumphant smile. There’s dead silence as the rest of the team looks at each other before they all burst into laughter.

“How the hell do you even know that?” Aaliyah manages to get out through peals of laughter.

“Y’all don’t google?” Amari asks incredulously, and the way her face scrunches up causes a brand new wave of giggles to flood the room.

“We google,” Azzi says and she hasn’t smiled like this in days, “we just don’t google things like that.”

Amari lets out an indignant squawk at that and Azzi feels a sense of calm that she hasn’t in a while. It lasts about a minute until two voices, one unfamiliar, one too familiar, begin to invade the room. Paige stumbles in a second later and fuck. Azzi’s breath catches in her throat as she desperately tries to look away from where Paige’s hand is firmly intertwined with someone else’s. It’s a mistake because her eyes land on Paige's face instead and that might be worse. She’s met with a glowing smile and bright eyes, none of which are directed towards Azzi. Instead, all of Paige’s happiness is for another girl.

“Layla,” she hears Aubrey say and oh. Because Azzi knows exactly who Layla is, or at least who she was. There had been a freshman Paige that Azzi had never really known beyond the phone calls and facetimes with her Paige. But she’d known that Paige had gotten around and she’d heard of Layla. They told each other everything and hookups fell right into the scheme of things. Layla had been Paige’s go-to on nights she’d been too tired to go looking for someone else. She’d been such a constant, that she’d slowly become a friend. Things had changed gradually from the moment Azzi stepped on campus. Even before they’d brought sex into it, all of Paige’s time had been Azzi’s, well, until now.

“Hey guys,” Layla smiles and is greeted back with a chorus of not so enthusiastic “hello’s”

“Lay, let’s go,” Paige whines impatiently.

“Give me a second Bueckers, I’m trying to be polite,” Layla rolls her eyes but Azzi doesn’t miss the fondness in them and everything burns again.

“Be polite later,” Paige tugs on Layla’s hand. In turn, Layla gives the team a slightly apologetic smile before letting the blonde girl pull her away. The bang of Paige’s door closing behind the two of them reverberates around the pin drop silence of the living room, that had been filled with laughter only mere seconds ago.

Azzi finds herself suffocating under the sympathetic glances her teammates send her way. She digs her fingernails deep into the palm of her hand, forming dents she knows will bleed. If it hurts, she doesn’t feel it over the reckless thumping in her chest. One, two, three, breathe, she counts to herself, refusing to break down in front of her teammates.

“It’s called phagocytosis,” Amari says after a second, trying to fill the silence, “and I mean it’s not really the brain eating itself but it feels like it.”

“So you just technically lied then.”

“I did no such thing. It was a slight exaggeration maybe.”

“Phagocytosis sounds like a really weird disease.”

“Yeah, maybe Amari has it.”

The team dissolves back into giggles, not quite as rambunctious as before but it’s enough. Enough for them to be distracted. Enough for Azzi to escape. Not enough for Caroline to not notice but Azzi knows her friend will give her a moment. She takes the stairs almost three at a time, flinging the door to her apartment and then to her room. The force of it creates a circle of wind around her and for a second, to her dizzy brain, it feels like Azzi’s floating. She doesn’t bother with the lights, flinging herself onto her bed. Pressing her hands to her forehead, she desperately tries to block the constant stream of thoughts in her head about Paige and Layla. It doesn’t help. And in the familiar comfort of her bedroom, Azzi curls into herself, and lets herself fall apart.

***

The ball passes right through Azzi’s hand and rolls out of bounds. Azzi curses to herself as she hears Coach yell her name. It’s almost the end of practice, and she can hear the disappointment in his voice as he subs her out of their scrimmage. She’d been distracted the whole time, a step too slow on both sides of the ball. It was a novel thing. Azzi had bad games sometimes but she rarely had bad practices. As she walks off to the side, she can feel Paige’s eyes glaring at her. It had been her assist after all that Azzi hadn’t converted. She shrinks into herself, disappointment and shame colliding into one, because they’d done such a good job at not letting their personal havoc impact their game. And she’d blown it.

“What the hell was that,” true to what she’d expected, Paige turns on her the minute they enter the locker room after practice. They’ve barely spoken in the last couple of days and Azzi closes her eyes, letting herself revel just for a second in the feeling of having Paige so close.

“It was an accident,” she replies, turning her body so she’s face to face with her best friend.

Paige scoffs, “which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Which one was the accident? That perfect pass you just let go to waste? Was it that wide open three you missed? Or the blind drive to the basket into three defenders for no reason? Oh wait, maybe it was when you completely lost yourself on defence?” Paige rants, anger coating every word. It’s not new for Paige to hold Azzi accountable and god, maybe Azzi’s even missed it a little bit but she can’t help feeling annoyed that this this is what had triggered the old Paige.

“I had a bad day. It happens,” Azzi’s voice is colder than she means for it to come out but all the emotions she’s been suppressing are bubbling at the top of her throat.

“Well it can’t happen. You do that in a game and we’re fucked,” Paige retorts. The rest of the team continues to do what they’ve been doing, occasionally glancing at the two arguing girls. It’s another of those unspoken rules, don’t interfere when Paige and Azzi are fighting.

“I didn’t do it in a game.”

“But you could. And if you keep practising like that you’re going to end up embarrassing yourself in a game.”

“Again, it was one bad day Paige, I’ll keep it in mind and I’ll be better tomorrow,” frustration seeps into her tone and Azzi hopes that her words are enough for Paige.

“You better because that can’t happen again Azzi,” Paige says.

“I just said it wouldn’t,” Azzi’s voice rises, throwing her hands up in irritation.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m-”

“Paige?” a new voice cuts in and both girls reluctantly look away from each other to see Layla, “hey, you okay? You wanna get out of here.”

“I-” Paige lets out a breath, looking back and forth between Azzi and Layla. And Azzi waits, waits for Paige to tell the new girl not to get in between Paige and Azzi, like she always had when anyone else had tried to step into their fights. She waits for Paige to tell Laya that she’s fine, and that she and Azzi just need to talk it out. She waits, and it never comes.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” the blonde girl says instead, giving Layla a small smile. She looks over at Azzi, something unreadable in her eyes, before grabbing her stuff and walking out.

“Shit,” Caroline whispers under her breath, a sentiment clearly echoed in the rest of the team’s faces. Paige and Azzi didn’t leave arguments unfinished. They'd been in uncharted waters with the two girls for a while now, and this feels like yet another turning point.

Anger and frustration course through Azzi’s veins. She just left her brain sneers at her. The hurt and pain fade to the back of her mind, as Azzi lets these new emotions settle all over her. She’s cried more in the last couple of weeks than she ever has in her life and she realises slowly, letting this new volatility swarm her, that she has no more tears left to give. She left. And then a new voice enters her brain, and you let her go.

***

A knock on the door shakes Azzi away from her thoughts. The book on her lap that she’d been pretending to read, falls unmajestically to the floor. Through bleary eyes, she sees the 10 o’clock on her watch and confusion settles into her. She’d been clear before leaving the locker room that she wanted to be alone tonight and while her teammates had protested a little, they’d eventually agreed to give her space, although Caroline had been adamant on coming to wish her a good night. It was far too early for that. She sighs, ready to huff at whichever of her teammates had ignored her pleas. Instead she’s met with the sight of a sheepish looking Paige.

“Hey,” the blonde girl smiles and it’s small and slightly cautious but it’s so genuine.

“Hi,” Azzi says softly.

“I think I owe you a little bit of an apology,” Paige says.

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow at that, “since when do you apologise for holding me accountable?”

“I- well,” Paige stutters, “Layla said I should.”

“That’s what Layla says is it?” Azzi can’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. They’d never apologised for critiquing each other’s games or practise before and suddenly Layla had said Paige should and Paige had listened. Azzi hates everything about that.

“Is me apologizing a bad thing? What’s with the attitude?”

“No,” Azzi sighs, not having the mental stamina to deal with right now, “I’m just tired. I appreciate the apology and I’m sorry too.”

It sounds so formal to her own ears, like two acquaintances writing emails to each other. As they stand face to face, separated by mere inches, Azzi realises the depth of the chiasm between them. And she doesn’t know if she has the strength to build a bridge to go over it.

“Do you want to watch a movie,” Paige asks finally, her voice tinged with hope.

“I don’t know Paige. I’m tired and-”

“Please,” there’s desperation in Paige's voice now, “we haven’t done anything just you and me in a while and,” she stops, her eyes wet as they come up to meet Azzi’s, “I miss you.”

I miss you too, Azzi wants to stay. She wants to throw herself at Paige and wrap herself in the comfort of her arms. She wants to massage away the stress lines on her forehead and kiss away the tears threatening to fall from her blue eyes. Instead, Azzi simply manages to nod and steps away so Paige can come in. She’s rewarded with a smile so bright, it makes her heart ache.

As Paige enters the room, Azzi’s reminded of the last time the two of them had been there together and she can’t help the faint blush that rises up her neck into her cheeks. That night had been different, Paige had been softer, slower. She’d taken her time with every touch, every kiss; her every move had been sinfully deliberate. Through all of it, she’d kept her eyes locked with Azzi’s, making sure she could see how desperately Paige needed her in that moment. And Azzi, hands fisting sheets, had let her take whatever she wanted. She wonders if Paige knew that would be their last time, if she’d already decided to end things. I’d have held on longer if I knew.

Paige’s eyes linger on the bed for a second, before she decides to sit on the couch and Azzi follows her lead. They both curl up as close to the arm rests on their side as they can, leaving an unfathomably large amount of space between themselves for two basketball players who had been attached at the hip since they were fifteen. The awkwardness is palpable as Azzi picks a random comedy movie, the two of them making a subconscious decision to not revert to their normal routine of arguing about what to watch.

It takes a quarter or so of the movie before they find some semblance of normalcy. Paige finally lets out a laugh, after having reined it in during previous funny scenes and it sets Azzi off. And then they’re both giggling messes, feeding off of each other’s infectious laughter. The tension eases and they both unconsciously let their bodies uncurl, letting their legs tangle with each other. It comes so naturally, they don’t even really notice that they’re touching for the first time in weeks. They’re too busy laughing, and when they’re not, there’s a comfortable silence and it’s just, it’s them. Azzi doesn’t know when she falls asleep, she just knows it’s the best sleep she’s had in a while.

***

Azzi stirs awake to cold hands caressing her face, Paige’s touch ever so familiar. She keeps her eyes closed, scared it’s a dream. She’s had a lot of those lately.

“I wish you felt the same,” Paige whispers, pressing her lips to Azzi’s forehead and Azzi swears she feels a teardrop fall on her face. But before she can react, before she can reach out for the figure she can feel hovering above her, she feels it retreat away from her.

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s all alone.

***

Azzi’s on edge. The team had chosen a bar in a random town in Connecticut tonight, instead of going to Ted’s as usual. It was meant to be a change of scenery and they were unlikely to be as recognized in such a random area. In theory, it sounded like a good idea, but the combination of a brand new place with people she’d never seen in her life, made Azzi far more tense than she had thought it would. On top of that, she hadn’t wanted to go out tonight in the first place. It had been two days since Paige had left her cryptically, and with the way the blond was vehemently avoiding her, Azzi was partially convinced, maybe she had dreamt the whole thing. The exhaustion of it all had desperately made her want to simply lie in bed and do nothing for hours. But if she’d stayed, one of her teammates would stay behind for her and if there was one thing Azzi didn’t want, it was to be an inconvenience.

And then there was the Layla of it all. Because apparently Paige didn’t go anywhere without Layla anymore. Remember when it was you, Azzi’s brain reminds her scathingly. From where she sits at a table with the rest of the team, she has a torturously close view of the two of them dancing together. It’s nothing scandalous, in fact to anybody else it’s probably the definition of friendly, but Azzi’s head is clouded with jealousy, and the three shots of vodka she’d already downed to ignore it.

“I think I need another round of shots,” she announces, noticing Paige and Layla start to make their way back to the table, “one of you come with me.”

“Is that a good idea?” Caroline asks tensely.

“Of course it is. Shots are good. Shots are fun,” Azzi wraps an arm around Caroline’s shoulder, her words coming out slightly slurred, “come with me pretty please.”

“Come where?” Paige’s voice interrupts.

“Nowhere you need to be,” Azzi retorts harshly and a flicker of hurt passes across Paige’s face. Azzi almost apologises, hating seeing Paige sad, but then her eyes focus in on where Layla’s hand is carefully placed on Paige’s bicep, and the sorry dies on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she roughly grabs Caroline and pulls her to the bar. She doesn’t get drunk often, hadn’t planned on doing it tonight but she’s so tired of feeling.

“Maybe we should cut you off,” Caroline says softly and Azzi pouts, “c’mon Azzi drinking so you don’t have to deal with your feelings is never a good idea you know that. You know I’m right.”

“I’m really tired of doing what’s right,” Azzi says despondently, waving the bartender over, “a shot of tequila please.”

Caroline sighs but seems to think better of trying again, shaking her head no when the bartender asks if she wants a drink of her own. She watches silently as Azzi downs the shot, concern and sympathy for her friend keeping her from snatching the shot away from Azzi.

“On me,” a deep voice echoes in Azzi’s ear as she pulls out her card to pay for the shot. She loses balance trying to turn around, but a pair of unfamiliar hands grab at her waist to keep her steady. Through the fuzziness in her brain, Azzi finds herself staring into green eyes; green eyes that belong to a pretty girl with blond hair and strong arms. And she’s tall, a voice in her brain says appreciatively. She looks just like Paige, well except the eyes, another less-amused voice points out. But she’s not Paige is she, the other voice reminds her snarkily.

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Azzi hears Caroline say from behind, her voice weirdly pitched.

“I want to,” the pretty girl says, eyes never leaving Azzi, as she hands her card over to the bartender “I’m Stephanie.”

“Azzi.”

“And is the girl behind you, your girlfriend Azzi?” Stephanie asks, but her tone suggests she already knows.

“Who? Caroline. Oh absolutely not. Just a friend.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I don’t dance with pretty girls with girlfriends,” Stephanie says, emphasising the word pretty.

“We’re not dancing,” Azzi replies dumbly.

“Well let’s fix that,” Stephanie whispers and oh, she’s flirting, Azzi realises. It’s not that Azzi’s never had anyone hit on her. No, there’d been plenty of men but there hadn’t been a girl before, well never a girl that wasn’t Paige, “dance with me Azzi.”

Behind Azzi, Caroline chokes on air.

“Azzi,” she hisses, her eyes flickering over to where Paige is sitting, back turned to the bar. The point guard hasn’t seen what’s happening yet but Caroline knows the moment she catches wind of it, things would go up in quite literal flames.

Azzi stares up at Stephanie’s expectant eyes, before letting her gaze move to Paige, Paige who’s engrossed in a conversation with Layla, who’s laughing at something Layla said. She turns back to Stephanie, a shy smile playing on her lips.

“I’d love to dance,” she says softly, ignoring the groan Caroline lets out behind her and letting Stephanie pull her to the dance floor. Two can play the move on game.

Dancing with Stephanie is different. Her hands feel different against Azzi’s skin, a little too rough and yet still too soft. Her smile is different, sexy and sultry but missing an innocent frivolity that Azzi had become used to. But most of all it’s the eyes. The mysterious green, a sharp contrast from the calm, familiar blue. She pushes the comparisons to the back of her mind, determined to enjoy the way Stephanie twirls her around then pulls her in. And then they’re suddenly so close, noses almost touching. Azzi knows what’s going to happen and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s not right.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Stephanie whispers and the voices in Azzi’s head battle, her heart beating to a chorus of she’s not Paige. But the final nail in the coffin is an image of Paige and Layla that her brain conjures up and in an envious drunken haze, Azzi makes another of her not so great decisions. She nods her head yes.

It takes a second of Stephanie’s lips pressing against hers for Azzi to know it’s all wrong. As she starts pulling away, the sound of shattering glass wreaks havoc in ears. Eyes blinking rapidly, she follows the path of familiar voices shouting to locate the noise. Paige stands, a little distance away from the dance floor, face fuming red. A litany of broken glass shards surround her feet and a gush of red flows from the patch of skin where her left thumb meets her left palm.

“Paige, fuck,” concerns flows through Azzi but before she can make her way to the bleeding girl, Stephanie pulls her back in.

“Meet me outside in a bit yeah,” she says with a devilish smirk. She doesn’t give Azzi a chance to respond, before disappearing out of sight. Azzi blinks dumbfoundedly at the spot where the girl had previously been, the alcohol catching up to her brain.

“Paige oh my god you’re bleeding,” Nika’s voice shakes Azzi out of her trance, “can someone get a band-aid please.”

The crowd parts seamlessly as Azzi rushes towards her best friend, grabbing for her injured left hand.

“What the hell Paige?” she’s incredibly sober now, as she inspects Paige’s hand before it’s yanked out of her grip.

“I should ask you that. What. The. Hell. Azzi?” fury laces every word as Paige stares her down.

“I– what?” Azzi asks quizzically, still focused on trying to grab Paige’s hand again but the blonde girl is determined, despite wincing, to keep it out of her reach.

“Tell me, was she a good kisser?” Paige asks, eyes narrowing dangerously, “did you enjoy the kiss?”

“That’s–I–it–that’s not important,” Azzi stutters, “you’re bleeding Paige.”

“And I’ll keep bleeding till you answer the damn question,” the blonde girl says, unveiling a side of herself Azzi's never seen, “so tell me Azzi, was it a good kiss?”

“Paige,” Caroline says firmly, noticing the crowds that are building up around them, “I don’t think now’s the time.”

“No, I think it’s the perfect time actually. If she can kiss a stranger now, she can answer a question about this kiss now too,” Paige sneers.

“You’re making a scene,” Azzi whispers.

“I’m making a scene?” the laugh Paige lets out is borderline manic, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one borderline dry-humping a stranger in the middle of a random bar and I’m making a scene?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi recoils.

“Just telling the truth. Where’d she go then? Is she waiting for you outside?” when Azzi doesn’t reply, Paige find her answer in the silence and let’s out another laugh, “she is, isn’t she? Well then what the fuck are you doing here Azzi?”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, eyes brimming with tears now, “you’re bleeding. Let me help you.”

“No, I don’t need your help Azzi.”

“Paige,” she tries again.

“No Azzi. I don’t need you. Go get fucking laid,” the words snap something in Azzi that has been on the edge of breaking since Paige had told her she wanted something else. She steps back from the blonde girl, blood boiling.

“You know what Paige,” her voice is far stronger than she feels, “maybe I fucking will.”

***

“Fuck,” Paige curses, fisting her palms and then hissing when her left hand aches. Regret pulsates through her head. She hadn’t meant it, any of it but especially not the last part. The last thing she wanted was Azzi to go after that girl.

Watching Azzi kiss someone else had been enough torture, the idea of her doing anything more would be the end of Paige’s sanity. It was ingrained in her brain now. She’d been laughing with Layla, hands encased around a beer bottle and then her teammates had gone oddly quiet, their eyes focused on something behind her. Confused, Paige had turned and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor was her Azzi, in somebody else’s arms. Layla, the saviour she’d been the last couple days, had immediately tried to distract her but Paige’s gaze was transfixed on Azzi. Her best friend twirled on the dance floor and a dagger twisted in Paige’s heart. And then, time seemed to slow down as the other girl brough Azzi impossibly close to her. Don’t you fucking dare Paige had thought, squeezing the glass bottle like a stress toy. On the dance floor, someone else, someone who wasn’t Paige, pressed their lips to Azzi’s and on the other side, Paige’s hands crushed the glass bottle into a thousand pieces.

When Azzi looked over, her lipstick slightly smudged, her eyes glassy, Paige had wanted to die. And when the girl had the audacity to pull Azzi back into her, Paige had wanted to commit murder. Misery and fury raged a battle in her head and when Azzi had rushed over, the gentle touch of her hand had been too much. And then Paige had taken it too far.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she repeats, ignoring her teammates as she fights through the crowd to chase after Azzi. Some people move easily, others glare and some flat out yell at her but Paige doesn’t care; she focuses solely on getting to the girl she’d just let go.

“Azzi?” she calls out, stepping out of the bar into the cold breeze, “please, please, please don’t go. Azzi?”

She scans the parking lot for the brunette, frantically pacing around the entrance but there’s no sign of Azzi. Paige hasn’t cried since the night she’d ended it, throwing herself in work and basketball and Layla but as the realisation that Azzi left, that maybe it’s too late, hits her, the tears she’d so carefully kept at bay, traipse down her cheeks like a never ending waterfall.

***

The whole team is silent in the living room as Nika bandages Paige’s left hand. The tension in the air is palpable as Amari paces the room, the sounds of her feet moving matching the rhythm of Aubrey nervously snacking on a packet of chips.

“Are you going to explain yourself,” Aaliyah breaks through the quiet, her question directed at Paige.

“It was an accident,” Paige doesn’t mean to get defensive. She’s aware she fucked up tonight but there’s too much going on and her head is still stuck at Azzi. Azzi, who had left with a random girl and only texted Caroline the words I’m fine after Caroline had blown up her phone with concerned texts. Paige’s I’m sorry, hadn’t gotten any reply.

“An accident,” Aaliayh says slowly, raising an eyebrow, “that’s what you’re going with?”

“I didn’t purposely break a glass bottle and fuck up my thumb Aaliyah.”

“Coach is going to kill you,” Aubrey says nervously, “this is not good Paige.”

“Did I miss the gang up on Paige memo? Because why am I the one being yelled at right now?”

“Who’s yelling?” Amari supplies unhelpfully.

“That’s not the point,” Paige glares at the taller girl who puts her hands up in defeat, “Why am I the one getting this responsibility lecture? I’m not the one who just made out with a random stranger in a bar and then just fucking left with them. We don’t even know where the hell she is.”

She knows she sounds bitter but the hurt of the night still stings and she doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with her teammates being mad at her rightnow. Tomorrow, she’d apologise and own up but she’s feeling reckless tonight. Her teammates are silent and Paige thinks, maybe they’re going to drop it too. And then Caroline speaks, her voice steely in a way that doesn’t match her normally soft sweet self.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she meets Paige’s eyes with an unexpected fierceness, “she’s single. Stephanie as far as I know is single. Azzi’s a grown adult who can hook up with whoever the hell she feels like. It’s not just something you can do.”

“That’s not the point,” Paige growls, “”you guys always know where I-”

“I know exactly where Azzi is actually,” Caroline rebuts , “so what exactly is the problem here?”

“She– I– It’s,” Paige bumbles on, not having an actual answer.

“You’re the one who ended it,” Caroline says, her voice accusatory, and the whole room seems to hold their breath at that, “you ended it and you don’t get to question what she does now. It’s over Paige and that was your decision.”

Paige gapes at Caroline, “how can you, of all people, say that to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the only one who knows Carol,” Paige says slowly and it’s Carol’s turn to be confused now. The rest of the team shoots each other questioning glances, things suddenly seeming even more puzzling than before.

“I heard you that night,” the blonde girl says, her voice breaking a little, “I heard you and Azzi.”

“Paige,” Caroline says, always quick to catch things, “what exactly did you hear?”

“I heard enough,” Paige says, closing her eyes because she can still hear that conversation in her head, “I heard her telling you she was going to end it, that she was tired of our arrangement. That she wanted– she needed– something else.”

“Oh Paige,” Nika says softly, putting an arm around Paige’s shoulders and her twin practically melts into the comforting touch.

“But I know her. She’s not good at that stuff. Always such a people pleaser. It was gonna be too hard for her to say it to me, so I said it for her. I broke my own heart, so she didn’t have to.”

A heavy silence follows Paige’s words as the blonde girl lets the tears fall for the second time that night. Her teammates are lost for words, the gravity of the situation, of Paige’s feelings, too much for all of them. A myriad of emotions flitter across Caroline’s face before finally settling on a saddened sympathy.

“Paige,” she says softly, coming to sit in front of the sobbing point guard, “you didn’t hear the whole conversation. God you’re such an idiot, the both of you are honestly.”

“Talk about kicking me when I’m down Carol,” Paige jokes.

“That’s not– Paige I can’t tell you the whole conversation because you deserve to hear it from her and she deserves the chance to say it to you. But Paige, Azzi wasn’t going to end it because she wanted less, she was going to end it because she wanted more. From you, for both of you,” Caroline says, hoping against hope that Paige understands what she means.

The realisation hits Paige in waves. She wants more. The words echo through her head and carve out a place in her heart. She wants more. Azzi had wanted more and Paige had wanted more and oh, they’d been so fucking stupid.

“I pushed her too far though,” Paige says as another realisation, the fact that Azzi isn’t here hits her, “she’s gone. Fuck, I need to be alone.”

“No Paige wai-” Caroline begins but Paige is gone out the door before she can tell the girl where Azzi is. She considers going after Paige but decides that maybe she’s revealed enough today. Maybe they could figure out the rest of it by themselves.

***

She’d meant to go to her own apartment, to her own room but her feet had a mind of their own, bringing her to Azzi’s instead. It was muscle memory really, her finding Azzi when she needed to be held. Except, there would be no Azzi to hold her tonight. Still, being in her room, where it smelt like her, Paige could pretend. She’d gotten pretty good at that.

The door opens smoothly as Paige slides into the room. And she almost gasps.

In the dim light of the night lamp, Azzi lies curled up in bed. She’s cuddling a pillow to her chest, her blanket pulled up to her neck with one hand slightly out of it. And she’s wearing one of Paige’s shirts,

She’s the most beautiful girl Paige has ever seen.

Carefully, trying to make as little sound as possible, Paige creeps closer to the sleeping girls. She can vaguely make out the tear tracks running down Azzi’s face and the guilt of it runs through Paige. A part of her thinks, maybe she should leave, wait til tomorrow. But she can’t. Instead she grabs one of Azzi’s shirts that lay scattered on the bean bag chair placed at the end of the bed. Quietly, she changes into it, breathing in the scent of all things Azzi.

“Paige.” Azzi whispers groggily as Paige slips underneath the covers, lying down facing the sleeping girl.

“Yeah,” Paige replies softly, caressing Azzi’s cheeks, “it’s me.”

“It’s not,” Azzi says wistfully, eyes still closed, as she wraps an arm around Paige’s torso, “it’s just me dreaming again.”

“You dream about me?” Paige asks, hating the hurt she can hear in Azzi’s voice.

“Mmm,” comes Azzi’s answer as she snuggles further into Paige, “all the time. I’ll take you however I can get you Paige. Even if it's a dream. Even if you’re not here in the morning.”

“I will be tomorrow. I promise,” Paige presses a kiss to the top of Azzi’s head and the darker skinned girl lets out a content sigh but Paige can tell she still thinks she’s dreaming, that she still thinks she’ll wake up alone tomorrow.

But Paige Bueckers doesn’t break promises. She’d be right there with Azzi tomorrow morning and if things went the way she wanted them to, then she’d be there for every morning after.

***

It’s the best sleep she’s gotten in weeks and Paige wakes up in a complete state of serenity. It doesn’t last long when she blindly feels around the bed for Azzi’s warm body, only to find the cool of empty sheets under her head instead. She jolts up frantically, mind going million miles an hour thinking up the worst possibilities. Her heartbeat begins to calm down as she finally finds the brunette curled up on the bean bag chair with her knees pulled to her chest.

“Hey,” Paige breathes out, unable to stop the smile that spreads across her face. Azzi doesn’t smile back

“What are you doing here Paige?” Azzi asks warily and Paige is instantly defensive.

“What are you doing here Azzi? Didn’t you say you were going to get laid?”

“And what if I did?”

“Well it must not have been very good if you came home that early and put on another girl’s shirt,” Paige says pointedly, amused by the pink that appears on Azzi’s cheeks. She knows the other girl’s lying, it’s just a matter of how long she’ll keep up the ruse.

“I grabbed whatever was closest.”

“Is that so?” Paige quirks an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t stand for it, letting the girl I’d just fucked wear someone else’s clothes. You know that.”

Azzi’s blush intensifies and she’s quick to change topics, “does your girlfriend know you snuck into another girl’s room last night?”

“I wasn’t aware I had a girlfriend,” Paige says, confused by the question.

“So what exactly is Layla then?”

“She’s a friend.”

“Yeah right,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes. Paige stares at her best friend, wondering if she’s gone insane. Her and Layla? Even thinking about it felt a little insane. Sure, she’d slept with the girl a couple of times her freshmen year but even that had felt insanely platonic.

“Az,” she says softly when the realisation sinks in, “Layla is not my girlfriend. She’s– well, I guess she’s my escape? I just– I needed a friend who wasn’t also your friend and she was there and it was easy. You really thought she was my girlfriend?”

“What was I supposed to think Paige?” Azzi says miserably, voice rising with each word, “you said you needed something else and Layla’s something else so I put two and two together and apparently came up with five.”

“I didn’t–,” Paige takes in a deep breath, it was now or never, “I thought you were gonna break my heart.”

“What?”

Paige sighs at the incredulity in Azzi’s voice, “I overheard you telling Carol that you were gonna end it with me, that you needed something else.”

“Oh,” she can see the clogs in Azzi’s brain turning, remembering exactly which conversation Paige is talking about.

“Yeah. So I ended it before you could. I couldn’t let you– I didn’t want you to break my heart,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s eyes.

“So you broke mine instead?” Azzi whispers and Paige doesn’t have to see the girl to know there are tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t realise it was mine to break,” Paige shrugs brokenly, eyes finally looking at Azzi through wet eyelashes.

They stare at each other in silence, hearts beating erratically, both of them waiting to see who’ll make the first move. Finally, Azzi stands up, and for once second, the fear that she’s about to walk away, that it really was too late, fogs Paige’s mind. But she doesn’t and instead Paige watches mesmerised, as Azzi slowly climbs onto the bed and then onto Paige’s lap. She arranges her legs so she’s straddling Paige’s thighs and her arms fall naturally around Paige’s neck. Immediately, Paige’s hands move to grip Azzi’s waist. They stay there like that for a while, foreheads resting against each other, basking in the warmth of finally being so close.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” Azzi confesses finally and Paige lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, “I thought about it but then I was in her car and all I could think about was you. I think you might have ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good. Because this is it okay? You and me forever,” Paige juts out a pinky and Azzi immediately links it with her own.

“Forever,” Azzi whispers back and it’s not clear who surges forward first but then they’re kissing and it feels like a brand new adventure and coming home all at once. They melt into each other, gripping each other as close as possible, the overwhelming need to be touching everywhere taking over their senses.

“Azzi,” Paige pulls away and almost laughs at the way Azzi pouts, “I need you to say it.”

Azzi’s eyes twinkle with happiness, a spark only Paige can bring out in them. She leans in, the feel of her breath sending shivers of anticipation up Paige’s spine.

“Wanna play ball?” she whispers sensually. Paige lets out an irritated whine and Azzi bursts out laughing, hiding her face in the crook of Paige’s neck.

“Seriously,” Paige groans, pinching Azzi’s waist, but she’s unable to keep the amusement out of her own voice. She hasn’t seen Azzi this happy in so long and if Azzi’s happy, well then everything in Paige’s world is going right. The younger girl’s giggles slowly subside, as her face takes on a more serious expression.

“Paige Madison Bueckers,” she says, cupping Paige’s face, “you’re my best friend, my soulmate and I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life. And I’m about to be real cliché here so don’t laugh but baby, I want your face to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see every night. I want you at your best but even more at your worst. I want everything as long as it’s with you. Because I am so completely, and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

“When did you become such a poet Azzi Fudd,” Paige says, her smile widening when Azzi laughs again, “I’m so completely and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

Paige recaptures Azzi’s lips with her own, pulling her girl as close to her as she can. The kiss is sweet and a little salty from the happy tears running down both their faces. It’s innocent and lazy, and still sloppy and passionate. It’s everything.

“If you ever break up with me again, I’ll kill you,” Azzi says, only half joking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Paige promises, “you’re stuck with me for life.”

***

A/N: Congratulations on making it to the end of that! I'm ngl, I love the concept but I don't think I wrote it out particularly well but I had fun writing it so hopefully y'all enjoyed reading it. I promise the next one will be more happy. But for now, I hope this was worth it <3.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #wcbb

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munson-blurbs · 5 months

Text

086: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Series

Chapter 002: The Devil Has Come to America

Summary: Following orders and toeing the line is your specialty, but when Patient 086 tries to bargain with the doctors, you're tempted to step out of your comfort zone.

Warnings: dark themes, mostly canon-compliant (Eddie lives), violence, blood, restraint, amnesia, abduction, that scene at the end of S4E9, flashbacks, drug/alcohol use

WC: 5k

Divider credit to @saradika

October 30, 1984

“Have you seen the new guy?” Heather giddily asks you and Carol through a mouthful of macaroni salad. A soft blush creeps into her cheeks as it often does when she gets flustered.

Carol nods enthusiastically. “He sits in front of me in algebra.” She offers a smarmy grin as she tucks into her own lunch. “Let me tell you, I might actually show up to class every day if I get to stare at his ass all period.”

Heather laughs, covering her lips with a manicured hand. “Don’t let Tommy hear that,” she jokes.

“Don’t let Tommy hear what?”

Carol swats at her boyfriend as he sits down next to her, giggling as she explains the situation. “We were just talking about the new kid, Billy…something-or-other.” She waves it off; clearly, the shape of his butt is more important than his last name. “I think he’s from California.”

Tommy nods knowingly. “Yeah, I have phys ed with him. I was gonna see if he wants to go out for basketball this year. He’s pretty damn good.”

“Better than King Steve?” Carol snickers, reaching onto Tommy’s lunch tray and swiping a French fry. “Or should I say, Mr. Nancy Wheeler?”

Heather laughs at this, too, but you can tell by her unnatural lilt that it’s forced. She’s been doing that a lot more often lately–pretending to be amused by Carol and Tommy’s antics just to fit in with them.

Tommy throws a letterman jacket-clad arm around his girlfriend. “And, uh, speaking of dudes who are totally whipped,” he says under his breath, eyes sweeping to the corner of the cafeteria where the Hellfire Club sits. You know exactly what he’s looking at; sure enough, when you drag over your own gaze, there’s Eddie Munson, staring longingly at your table.

“Ooh, I’ll bet he’s gonna be selling at Tina’s party tomorrow!” Carol flashes you the grin you only get when she needs a favor. “Can you talk to him? You know he’ll give you a discount.”

Never mind the fact that you didn’t smoke, or that the last time you’d done this for her, she hadn’t paid you back a single cent. The question is a simple formality: you will get cheap weed from Eddie, whether you like it or not.

“Y’know,” Tommy breaks in smarmily, eyebrows raised like he’s offering classified information, “I heard he flunked last year on purpose so he could keep selling at high school parties.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. He could’ve graduated and still swung by to sell.” The retort spills from your lips before you can stop yourself, but it’s true. It’s not unheard of for recent grads to pop in to snag some beer or jungle juice.

Your words are met with glares from Tommy and Carol; Heather’s foot brushes your own with a dual meaning of are you okay and don’t get us in trouble.

“Sorry,” you mumble, desperate to avoid the unwanted social consequences that await you and Heather if you mess this up. “I can, um, talk to him at the party tomorrow.”

Flirting with him for discounted pot doesn’t sit right with you. But since Heather is your only friend, and she’s now friends with Carol, you can’t risk losing her.

You let yourself look over at the young man who’s been harboring a crush on you since this school year began, feeling a pang in your heart. This is the last time, you tell yourself, and then I’m done leading him on. Carol can buy her own shit, full price.

But when you hear Heather laughing again, you realize that you’re only lying to yourself. The only thing worse than high school is enduring it alone, and if that means temporarily turning into someone you hate, then so be it.

March 30, 1986

“EDDIE!”

The shouted word reverberates around Patient 086’s skull as he wakes up suddenly, body trembling from the nightmare and from the headache forming behind his temples. He winces when he opens his eyes, the overhead lighting only enhancing the pain.

“Eddie,” he whispers to himself, letting it melt on his tongue. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” He smiles despite having every other reason not to.

I’m Eddie. My name is Eddie.

His joy dissipates when he fails to recall whose voice was calling out for him. It’s a balloon that keeps getting whisked away in the wind, just out of reach.

Eddie grits his teeth, overdue tears streaming down his scarred cheeks. I know this–it’s…it’s…

“Fuck.” The swear is all exhalation, hardly any force behind it. His shoulders shake as sobs wrack through him, his quest to remember seemingly still fruitless. He’s so close, but still too far away.

The door to his room swings open without warning, one of the doctors from his earlier scuffle standing in Eddie’s line of vision. It isn’t the one he’d bitten–Dr. Snell–but the one who appeared to be the leader. His mere presence unsettles Eddie, like there’s an invisible evil seeping from his pores.

“086.” An unfriendly grin stretches his lips. “I take it you’re feeling rather…well-rested, yes?” He takes immediate notice of the way Eddie’s hands clench into fists, one by his side and one still cuffed to the gurney. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, 086. Perhaps we should start fresh, now that you’re aware of our non-compliance protocol.”

“Eddie.” Eddie grunts, not daring to make eye contact. “My name is Eddie, not 086.”

The doctor’s eyebrows furrow in momentary confusion before he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Yes, right. I forgot that 055 accessed that memory.” His signature smirk returns as though it never left. “We use numeric identifiers here. Easier to keep track of our patients. So while you may have been Eddie, you’re now 086. Understood?”

But Eddie’s mind remains trained on the doctor’s previous statement. “Someone…accessed my memory?” He curls inward at this privacy violation. A person he didn’t even know was able to see his memories–yet he still couldn’t.

“Very briefly,” the doctor confirms. “It was more difficult than anticipated because you were sleeping. We will require your cooperation for this task.” His arched gray eyebrow informs Eddie that this is not up for discussion. “Be aware that while it is challenging for 055 to access your memories while you’re asleep, it’s not impossible. If you choose to behave as you did earlier, the consequences will be the same.” He holds out a water-filled paper cup and a small container of two pills, chuckling at Eddie’s ambivalence. “Just some ibuprofen for the headache. They’re standard after memory accession.”

Every muscle in Eddie’s body tenses, his already-dry throat feeling like sandpaper. He gulps down the medication, utterly defeated. “C-Can I just ask…why do you need my memories?” What secrets could he possibly hold that interest them enough to steal them from his unconscious brain?

The doctor sighs, weighing the options of honesty and deceit. He speaks after a moment with a carefully curated response. “The place we rescued you from was nowhere you should have been. Nowhere anyone should ever be.” His lips purse in concentration. “We need to know who, if anyone, was with you to ensure their safety and wellbeing.” The doctor lowers his voice as though revealing priceless information. “What if they’re trapped there, 086, just as you were? We can’t know unless you allow us to see.”

Eddie doesn’t miss the faintest smile, disappearing almost as soon as it forms, as though the doctor is proud of his presentation. Like he’s telling an elaborate fictional story rather than insinuating true mortal danger.

“Okay,” Eddie pauses but agrees, despite the nausea pooling in his stomach. There may have been people with me. Family or friends or anyone links to my past. To who I am, or who I was. “I’ll do it, but I want to see more than just the end. I want happy memories pulled, too. Can 055 do that?” He keeps his voice as insistent as possible, vaguely aware that he just may be making a deal with the Devil himself.

“Of course she can.” He eyes Eddie’s singular restrained wrist; for a second, Eddie thinks he’s going to let him go, but the man just continues speaking. “I’ll bring her in as soon as she’s ready.”

He’s too quick and too smug in his response, but Eddie has no choice but to believe him. It’s the last bit of hope that he has.

October 31, 1984

You can hear music blaring before you and Heather even pull up in front of Tina’s house. She’s meticulously checking her lip gloss in her compact mirror, one manicured fingernail scraping around her mouth to remove any nonexistent excess.

“How do I look?” She asks, eagerly awaiting your opinion. It’s a seemingly stupid question; she always looks gorgeous. It’s almost unfair how beautiful she is, not to mention an impossible comparison standard to which you’ll never measure up.

She’s truly outdone herself tonight, dressed as Wonder Woman. The corset amplifies her cleavage and the blue barely-there shorts showcase her long legs. Diana Prince’s signature crown is perched atop her hair.

“Amazing. Billy’s gonna lose his shit.” You smile as she blushes and gets out of your car, excitedly slamming the passenger door behind her. There’s no point in fielding her the same question; she’ll placate you with an untrue compliment that won’t do anything to boost your ego.

You adjust your black mask and step out, cautiously teetering in your high heels. It was Heather’s idea for you to be Cat Woman, claiming that she couldn’t dress sexily without you, but you feel like a fish out of water. The latex suit just doesn’t look right on your body, or maybe the problem is that your body doesn’t look right in the suit.

Heather waits as you get your bearings, hooking her arm with yours and bringing you an immediate sense of comfort. This is the Heather Holloway you’ve grown up with, the one who’d encouraged you to face your fears and ride a two-wheeler bike, the one who’d used her own allowance to buy you a new pair of pants when you got your first period in the middle of Sears, the one who’d let you sleep over whenever simmering arguments with your parents reached a boiling point. Regardless of her newfound affiliation with Carol–and Tommy, by default–she’s still your best friend.

Someone lets out a low wolf-whistle as you two walk through Tina’s house and to the backyard. Heather holds her head high while your gaze stays glued to the ground, unwilling to make eye contact with the perpetrator. It’s highly unlikely that the flirtation was intended for you, anyway.

Outside, the crowd is chanting as Tommy stands beside the keg, propping up a guy in a leather jacket. Heather squeals and tugs on your sleeve excitedly. “That’s Billy!” she exclaims, discreetly pointing to the man currently upside down, guzzling beer like his life depends upon it.

After twenty-two seconds, Billy motions to be lowered back to the ground. Foam spews from his mouth and drips down his chiseled abs, slick with sweat.

“We got ourselves a new…keg…CHAMP!” Tommy announces, slipping a lit cigarette between Billy’s fingers.

Billy takes a triumphant drag, exhaling smoke as he declares, “That’s how you do it, Hawkins! That’s how you do it!” He looks around the party with a squared jaw, assessing who is impressed by his feat besides the Tommy Hagan-shaped puppy yipping at his heels.

You turn to Heather, trying your best not to roll your eyes while she outwardly swoons. “There’s your Prince Charming,” you mutter, stomach curdling as Billy’s blue eyes flicker up and down her body, a predatory smirk crossing his ale-drenched lips.

Heather saunters over to him with a confidence you haven’t seen from her before. One hand wraps around Billy’s bicep, pulling all of his attention to her. “That was really cool,” she says breathily, biting her lower lip and peering at him through mascaraed lashes.

Billy shakes his mullet of curls, inhaling from the cigarette again before he speaks. “Yeah, well, someone had to breathe life into this shitty excuse for a party.” He sighs and stretches, causing his muscles to ripple underneath his jacket and snaking an arm around her waist to tug her closer. “But it looks like it just got a lot more interesting.”

He’s a walking cliché, the absurdly attractive new kid obnoxiously strutting around like a proud peacock while girls fall at his feet. You can’t blame Heather for being entranced; you just wish she could see through the shiny exterior and realize that, to him, she’s just another pair of panties on his bedroom floor.

An impatient tap on your shoulder draws you from a disbelieving stupor. Carol stands behind you, arms folded across her chest as though she’s irritated with you before you can even say a word.

“Freak’s here,” she reports flatly, shoving a crumpled bill in your palm. “Whatever twenty bucks can buy.”

Right. The second reason you’ve dragged yourself to this party, in addition to being Heather’s loyal sidekick, is to awkwardly flirt your way to a weed discount.

You shuffle back into the house, spotting Nancy Wheeler sloppily ladling jungle juice into a cup, swaying with the beginnings of tipsiness. Your heart sinks; it seems like everyone is enjoying themselves at this party–or is trying to, at least–except for you.

Why are you like this? Why can’t you just be normal and fit in? It was simple for Heather; Mrs. O’Donnell had assigned her and Carol to be lab partners, and within a week, she’d begun her ascent up the social ladder. But you were resistant, remembering Carol’s constant barrage of snide remarks hurled your way, never trusting her the way your best friend did.

“C’mon, don’t you want to be popular? To finally be noticed?” Heather had pressed, eyes shining with the prospects of landing on Hawkins High’s proverbial A-list. “You can’t just let people trample over you for the rest of your life.”

And so you’d tagged along for the ride, only to find that you’d graduated from punching bag to doormat. You did what they asked because they had the power to obliterate your already meager social life, and they knew it.

That’s why you currently find yourself looking over at Eddie Munson as he digs through his tin lunch box. He takes a handful of bills from Linda Becker and gives her a pre-rolled joint, shoving the cash in his pants pocket. He shakes his mop of curls out of his eyes and moves onto his next customer, a junior who just crushed a Miller Lite can on his head.

Eddie only sticks around these parties long enough to sell whatever’s in his stash before he slips away; if you put this off any longer, you risk pissing off Carol, which will upset Heather and further strain your friendship.

You take a deep breath. It’s just some harmless flirting; you’re not proposing marriage, or even sleeping with him. Bat your lashes, tell him he looks nice, ask him about his day, and get some weed. Yeah, you can do this.

Here goes nothing.

One hundred eight…one hundred nine…

The squeak of his door opening disrupts Eddie’s meticulous wall tile counting. Annoyance prickles under his skin when he loses focus. He tries not to let it show, keeping up the cooperative façade so the scientists will be willing to give him what he wants–a glimpse into his past. Not just the parts of 086 they deem important, but the smaller moments that comprise him. The parts that make up Eddie.

The man he’d bitten—Dr. Snell—stands in the doorway with what appears to be another patient. She wears a hospital gown identical to his own, and her hair is also cropped close to her scalp.

Dr. Snell speaks first. “086, this is 055,” he says, gesturing to the young woman to his right. Eddie tries to get a better look at her, but it proves to be more difficult than he’d anticipated. She doesn’t allow her gaze to meet his as though she’s afraid to be seen; ironic, considering she’d infiltrated his mind just hours earlier.

“Um, hi,” Eddie sputters awkwardly, not quite sure how to navigate this unique introduction. Thanks for uncovering my memories? Sorry for whatever you find in there? Also, if you could look past the bloody mess and let me know who the kid screaming my name was, I’d really appreciate it?

He sighs when you offer only silence in response, using his untethered hand to scratch a spot on his scalp where his hair is shaved a bit too close. Impatience gnaws in his chest. “So, uh, we gonna get started on this memory pulling thing?”

Dr. Snell nods, hesitantly making his way to Eddie’s bedside. “086, I am going to remove your restraints. When I do, I expect you to continue giving us your full cooperation. Is this understood?” He conspicuously fiddles with a button hanging from a cord around his neck; Eddie can only assume it’s used to page the other scientists in an emergency.

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” The doctor pulls a key from his pocket and plunges it in the slot that joins the clamps together. The metal digs into Eddie’s wrist before the pressure disappears altogether, and he exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Now,” Dr. Snell continues, turning to 055, “you will continue revealing 086’s memories of the Nether. You’re going to determine who else was there and what they may have seen.” He ticks off the two agenda items on his pointer and middle fingers as though it’s a simple task.

Eddie watches as 055 pulls up a chair across from him, still avoiding making eye contact until it’s absolutely necessary. “Sit up.” It’s an order, but a polite one, and Eddie follows it without a second thought. “I need you to take the memory I pulled and think about pushing it to the surface of your mind. Do your best to focus only on that, and it’ll make my job a lot easier.”

There’s a familiar cadence to 055’s voice, her last sentence laced with both honesty and a hint of humor. Eddie’s surprised to find himself relaxing a bit, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. He reflexively closes his eyes.

“N-No…leave them open.”

His eyelids flutter open, embarrassment pinkening his cheeks as though this was something he should have known. He concentrates on the already-fading memory of the boy shouting for him, biting into his lower lip so hard that it draws a bit of blood. The metallic taste stirs something within him, his ribs suddenly aching where they’re scarring.

An earthy scent overtakes his next inhale, a stark contrast from the sterile lab environment. Eddie’s moving too fast to be on foot, the bicycle wheels spinning across dirt and sinking into the mud as he frantically pedals. Something weighs on his back, but he can’t reach back to feel what it is.

He leaps off of the bike without warning, faintly hearing it clatter in the distance, but it’s quickly drowned out by violent shrieking. The sound tornadoes around him as he grabs the items from behind him: a makeshift spear and a garbage pail lid with nails driven through it.

Clang! Clang!

The flying objects ricochet off of the lid, the spikes not impaling them enough to do much damage. The shield begins to bend under their impact, but Eddie continues swinging with all of his might. His grunts are barely audible over the screeching bat-like creatures. His chest tightens as he musters up his remaining strength and courage, bellowing into the wind.

“COME ON!!!”

The scream provides no intimidation; it only further depletes his already-limited energy. He pauses for a second to take another breath, but his air supply is cut off by a barbed tail wrapping around his throat.

Eddie instinctively drops the spear to unravel the beast’s grasp from his neck, but he knows it’s too late. He’s done for. While he wrestles with the bat, others latch onto him and drag him to the ground to feast on his flesh.

“EDDIE!”

The boy.

Eddie hears him over the blood pounding in his ears, willing him to stay away, go back to safety, but shock has rendered him wordless.

And then the shrieking stops, leaving only the sounds of his own ragged breathing.

“Eddie!” The boy’s voice is quieter but still panicked, his face coming into view as he tends to Eddie’s wounds. Shiny braces adorn his teeth and mucus muffles his speech. “Oh my God, Eddie.”

Eddie can only look straight into the misty darkness, unable to move his body. “‘S bad, huh?” he manages through terse lips.

“No, nononono, you’re gonna be fine,” the boy sputters, trying to convince himself more than Eddie, “we just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees too easily, feeling the fight leaving him with each passing second.

The two of them grunt in frustration and agony as Eddie uses his friend as a crutch, but he knows it’s no use. There isn’t any sense in this kid wasting his precious energy saving him from his inevitable demise.

“Just give me a second, okay?” Blood pools in Eddie’s throat; he swallows it down and forces a small smile. This is it. He has nothing left to give.

His gaze meets the boy’s, and they share an understanding glance. There’s nothing that either of them can do: Eddie is going to die.

“I didn’t run away this time, right?”

“No, nonono. You didn’t run,” the boy reassures him with a swift shake of his head, his curls held in place by a thick band.

Eddie grabs his hand, shiny eyes flitting over so he can drive home his point before it’s too late. “You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?”

“No, you’re gonna do that yourself!”

“Nah, man.” He needs this; he needs this promise fulfilled before he can fully let go. “Say you’re gonna look after them.”

The boy almost starts to deny it again, but Eddie’s steadily loosening grip informs him that his time is limited. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna look after them…” he chokes out, no longer able to look Eddie in the eyes.

“Good.” Haziness engulfs him, blurring his thoughts into a swirl of memories that has no beginning or end. “Because I’m actually gonna graduate…” He punctuates the statement with a small snort as he laughs through the pain.

The boy lets out a strained cry, pity and sadness and the early stages of grief rolled into one small sound.

“I think it’s my year, Henderson. I think it’s finally my year.” Eddie’s eyes glaze over; with his final breath, he ekes out a promise of his own. “I love you, man.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s the last thing he hears before the world goes black.

Eddie’s eyes snap open now, the dull roar of a headache barely affecting him. The present bleeds into the past, tile and disinfectant replacing dirt and overgrown moss. He blinks a few times to adjust.

“H-Henderson,” he stammers, looking between you and Dr. Snell. “My friend—Henderson—he was with me there. Dustin Henderson!” He snaps his fingers excitedly, pushing away the discomfort from the rapid movements. “I think we go to school together. Oh, my God, Dustin Henderson!” He laughs aloud, beaming from ear to ear. He remembers Dustin Henderson’s name, which means other memories of him can’t be far behind.

Eddie turns back to you as you wipe away the trail of blood under your nose, speaking so eagerly that he’s tripping over his words. “Okay, I’m gonna—I’m gonna keep thinking about him, and you pull more memories.” He looks you directly in the eyes, emotion written all over his own. “His name is Dustin Henderson. Got it?”

Before you can answer, the doctor cuts in. “I’m afraid that’s all we have time for today, 086.” He doesn’t seem apologetic in the least, practically baring his teeth in a sinister grin.

“N-No, he said—he promised,” Eddie sputters, feeling increasingly pathetic.

Dr. Snell shakes his head. “Who’s ‘he?’” he sneers. “I don’t recall making any promises to you.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“The other doctor—he said that she,” Eddie glances at you, “could pull more memories. Good ones.”

Your blood runs cold; this is the first you’re hearing of this, and you suspect it’s one of Dr. Moseley’s many empty promises designed to foster compliance and break spirits.

Eddie’s throat goes bone-dry and his stomach curdles as the doctor says nothing more, cuffs him back to the bed, and leads you away from the room. You look back for a split second, briefly making eye contact with him, but quickly turn around.

Please, Eddie begs silently, please help me remember. There had to be some good in my life, and I need to know what it was.

Cynicism chips away at his waning hope as you get farther down the hall until he can no longer hear your clipped conversation with the doctor, your presence becoming a memory in itself.

Your time in the lab thus far has been spent obeying orders and doing your best to remain inconspicuous whenever your services are not needed. Your allegiance, coupled with your refusal to make waves, is what’s kept you from experiencing the scientists’ wrath. Silent unless spoken to.

Guilt gnaws at your insides, churning bile in your stomach, and you know what you have to do.

“Dr. Snell, I have to use the restroom.” You push the words out in a single breath, lungs tightening when he actually stops in his tracks and faces you. Skepticism is written all over his face, and with good reason, but you double down on your statement with the three words that fluster nearly every man: “Got my period.”

Sure enough, his cheeks turn magenta as he sputters, “Yeah, yes, of course.” He steps aside as you rush back towards the bathroom, your urgency very much real though the excuse is a blatant lie. You stand behind the door and silently count to five, peering out to ensure that the coast is clear. There’s no sign of Dr. Snell–or any of the scientists, for that matter–so you make your way to Eddie’s room, cursing the soft noise your bare feet make on the tile floor.

Turn back. Don’t risk your safety to play the hero.

If you’re caught, there will be repercussions. You could easily find yourself strapped to the bed or thrown in isolation for days on end; all of the trust you’d built up with the authorities will be tossed in an instant.

Something propels you forward; perhaps it’s the desire to do what’s right, but you know it’s mostly the guilt of what happened between you two, whether he remembers or not.

“Ed—086,” you quickly amend, your voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie looks around, disoriented and fighting the post-accession headache.

“Y-Yeah?”

You tiptoe closer to him, doing your best to ignore how vulnerable he looks right now. If you think about it too much, you might cry. “You need to obey the doctors, especially Dr. Moseley,” you say.

“Why?” Eddie spits back. “I tried, and they fucked me over. Why should I help them?”

You lean over and tug on the handcuff. “You see this? Notice how I don’t have one?” You shake your free wrist to emphasize the point. “That’s because I do as I’m told and fall in line.”

“This whole place is a goddamn prison,” he retorts, rolling his eyes. “Who cares if I’m strapped to the bed or not? Where the hell am I gonna go?”

“You’re not hearing me.” You want to scream, and it takes everything inside you to hold back. “The less trouble you give them, the less they’ll watch over you, and the more I can access your memories. The ones you want to remember.”

This throws a temporary wrench into his anger, scowl softening until he recalls how he’d recently been tricked. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice—”

You cut him off, grabbing his one free hand without warning. Staring into his fear-filled eyes, you pull a memory, though he doesn’t know that it’s easily accessible because it’s one of your memories, too.

That’s a conversation for another day.

The smell of stale beer and unfiltered cigarette smoke clouds the bar while a band of four boys plays onstage. Eddie has one ring-clad hand wrapped around the electric guitar’s neck and the other strumming intensely as he launches into the song’s chorus.

For whom the bell tolls Time marches on For whom the bell tolls!

He turns around and faces the drummer, grinning headbanging along to the beat. The kid behind the drumset is a bit younger than he is, and considerably more nervous, but Eddie’s encouragement allows him to lose himself in the music.

You end the memory before present-day Eddie can hear the applause; you know you were the one cheering the loudest that night, and you can’t let him recognize you.

“There will be a lot more of that if you fly under the radar and give them a reason to back off,” you tell him, plucking a thin tissue from a nearby box to clean your nose. “Trust me, they don’t want to watch over you 24/7. They have bigger issues they need to deal with.”

Trust me. The last time he trusted you, it destroyed him, whether he remembers it or not. This is your chance to make it right.

“Just think about it,” you plead, adrenaline waning and anxiety drawing you back to your room. “Help me help you.”

You leave him with even more questions than he had before. Hopefully, that’s incentive enough.

tag list (still open)

@munsonmuses @vintagehellfire @chrissymjstan @munsonology @lady-munson @roadkill-writes @randomreader1999 @babez-a-licious @madelynraemunson @the-unforgivenn @nailbatanddungeon @lokis-army-77 @laurenlokirby @american-idiot-jpg @str4ngergirlw0rld @tlclick73 @gnrquinn @katethetank @inourtownofhawkins @munson-addict

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #086

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stxrvel · 1 year

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welcome home (1)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: when an accident makes you forget the last seven years of your life, you're lucky to have someone like Bucky to support you in your recovery. except he's not the Bucky you remember.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: angst. that's all.

note: this wasn't planned. at all. i had the day off and wanted to write something but nothing was coming to me enough to write another part of the outbreak or how to break a routine in one year, so i was just browsing tumblr until i saw something related to memory loss and this popped into my head. i thought i wasn't going to finish writing it but it came out more than i expected. and clearly this gives for a part two and even more, but at the moment i don't know when that will happen. also, i suck with titles, i think i'll change it later. meanwhile, i hope you enjoy it! feedback is always appreciated, thank u for the support! 💜

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Bucky was right to be scared. He was right to feel his soul leaving his body and his heart bursting with pain. He was completely right to be frightened, unsure of the future and the opportunities it had taken with it. Bucky was right to feel that his world was crumbling, that he was left with half a heart to survive for the rest of his life.

But he was also right in deciding not to show how scared he was. He could have his nerves frozen inside his body and feel his blood boiling inside his veins, his whole insides churning and messing up without any compassion, but he couldn't let that rule his life. He knew that the only solution was to cope rationally and objectively, even if he wanted to burst into tears every ten minutes.

“Okay, everything looks good for now,” Bucky heard the doctor, along with the others who were in the room.

He had been standing in the corner of the room the whole time, not moving a millimeter barely to breathe. The mood was so bleak and melancholy that he feared the sadness would rub off on him if he blinked any faster.

“So, can you discharge her now?” Tony Stark asked, his body closer to the door than any other.

“Yes, she can leave after you sign some paperwork. I'm going to need her to come back for some monthly checkups and let me know if she comes to remember anything.”

“Of course,” Steve Rogers stated.

Bucky wandered his gaze over the other two men in the room and the two women behind them, Natasha Romanoff and Carol Danvers. They all looked wary, not taking their gazes off your figure lying on the gurney after the doctor finished checking something in your eyes. He didn't like the way their bodies moved, anxious to talk, anxious to ask questions. He didn't like how Steve constantly opened and closed his hands; how Tony crossed and uncrossed his arms over his chest; how Natasha suspiciously watched the doctor every time he approached you and asked what he was doing; how Carol glared at the man every time he told them there was no news or progress. They had overwhelmed you before with so many gestures and words that the orderlies had to take them all out almost by force.

In a way, Bucky understood them. He too had been terrified at the beginning, still was to some degree, but it had been a while before they began to regulate their behavior. Bucky understood that the situation was difficult for them, as it was for him, but they also had to think about what it was like for you.

You were on the brink of death and awoke to find that about seven years of memories had been erased from your head.

Bucky had not taken it well at first. He was in a constant panic and searched the internet for all possible solutions that could make up for the mistake that was made. He was anxiously talking to Wanda trying to convince her to find something to do. He had gone to Strange almost begging him for some spell that could fix everything. He had asked the doctor a hundred times on the verge of insanity if it was possible to fix it with another surgery. It had simply been the worst news he had ever been given in his life.

Until, by some divine miracle, the rational part of his brain took control of his thoughts and emotions. That's when his “there's nothing we can do” thought came. The rest of the team was surprised when they saw him calmly walking around the Complex and going on missions, when Bucky had finally understood that he couldn't stop his life for something he couldn't fix. He had to learn to live with that and he hoped the others would too.

But no, it seemed that moment of enlightenment hadn't come to anyone but him.

They returned to the Complex after signing papers and picking up medications with the orders the doctor had given them, some pills for the eventual migraines and muscle relaxants if needed.

The trip was tense. Everyone sent you wary glances and purposely averted their gazes when they saw you watching them. Bucky could tell you were starting to get nervous. Even more, anxious.

Lacking knowledge of your family's whereabouts and that your current address was the Complex, that was where you would spend the rest of the days of your recovery -although Bucky had other options in mind-. The doctor had put his buts in, believing that being in such a tense, busy and overwhelming environment as the main Avengers facility was could hinder your process of getting better, but Tony was very specific and quick to tell him that there was a part of the Complex, a wing, that they had almost completely isolated to keep you in a safe place and away from the stress of the job. The mechanic spoke confidently about how you would be totally at ease as if the decision was entirely up to the doctor, while giving Bucky a helpless look. Finally, to please Tony, the doctor agreed to let you go spend your recovery at the Complex.

Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that Bucky was your husband.

The doctor who treated you for almost a year, from the time you arrived injured and near death, to your subsequent surgeries and recovery, always knew that the final decision was out of his hands. It was funny to watch Tony argue his points to influence his decisions, but in the end that was not something he had any power in. His gazes always turned to Bucky, waiting for a nod or a shake.

Tony knew that too. You had invited him to the wedding because you were closer to him than Bucky, plus they had to see each other constantly for work. They weren't best buddies, but they maintained a relationship that was professional and affectionate and friendly enough to keep you satisfied. That is, until the accident. Since that day, Tony had taken a completely different stance towards Bucky and he really didn't find it strange. He hadn't even been able to speak to him since the day he had almost apologized with his knees to the floor when they had to tell Bucky that you almost died because of a mistake.

Over time, Bucky had let go of the anger along with his realization that he couldn't do anything to change the past, but it seemed to him that Tony still felt guilty about what had happened.

Bucky looked away from the road when he saw you stir in your seat as they were about to arrive at the Complex. The team tried to make small talk after several minutes of traveling in awkward silence, but it resulted in a much more tense atmosphere with everyone turning their heads to look at anything but you like fish out of water.

Bucky watched you from his position in the back of the van as you moved forward to view the Complex facilities in delight. He couldn't help but smile after spending months in constant stress, realizing that you had done the same thing the first time you had gone over ten years ago.

Carol and Natasha took it upon themselves to guide you through the isolated wing of the Complex to the room you would be staying in. Bucky stayed a few floors down along with Steve and Tony in the living room.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky heard Steve ask next to him, as Tony quietly approached the bay window.

“Fine.”

“Buck, you don't have to-”

“Really, I'm fine,” Bucky nodded, noticing Steve's incredulous look. He had to fight not to roll his eyes in disgust.

One thing the team had taken to doing constantly was treating him like a child, like someone who didn't know what he was feeling and didn't know how to control his emotions. That had been happening since the moment he accepted that he couldn't fix something that was out of his control. That you'd had an accident, you'd lost your memory, you'd forgotten him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had tried everything, and there was nothing.

But the team thought his attitude was that he was trying to hide his feelings and, well, in part he was. He didn't deny that it still made him scared and angry to think of all the opportunities and moments that were gone along with your memory, but he was aware that showing himself that way in front of you wouldn't bring you any good. Unlike him and completely unaware of the truth, the team believed he was in denial. They believed that Bucky had been trying for months to avoid dealing with his feelings and that at any moment he would break down and suffer fighting the horrible reality.

Bucky had only responded to their unconscious attacks and questions with the truth, but it seemed the team was in more denial than he was.

“The doctor said the chances of her regaining her memory were high. Don't worry.” Steve patted Bucky on the shoulder to accompany his words, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Steve, I'm not wor-”

“And she'll adjust well to the routine in this place. You know we'll be constantly keeping an eye on her and making sure she's okay, right?”

“I'd rather you stay away,” Bucky mumbled, his teeth grazing at the discomfort.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky kept his distance at first. He wanted to first meet and see how you were adjusting to your new home and how you related to others. Besides, he was also a little nervous about talking to you. You had done it before, yes, at the hospital. You had introduced yourselves and asked him a few questions when he was around. But when Bucky finally confessed to you that he was your husband, it was as if something had disturbed the gravity around the both of you. Clearly Bucky was quick to notice that change in your behavior and began to pull away trying to give you your space and not overwhelm you, unlike others.

You had some memories with him, Bucky was sure. You had lost the memory of about seven years, and you had come to the team ten years ago. That would have been good for him and your relationship, except that in the beginning neither of you could stand the other.

That's right. You two hated each other's guts. And Bucky eternally regretted waiting until the fifth year of meeting you to make his feelings known to you. Because, at that point, all you remembered about him were his stinging comments and his cold, calculating stares. When he remembered the things he had said to you to hurt you on purpose, he would cringe and his body would tremble in rejection.

Before confessing, he had thought about the possibility of keeping everything hidden, maybe try to win your trust again and suddenly have what you had before. And maybe the Bucky of six years ago would have done that, wouldn't have hesitated to keep the truth hidden just to guide you down the path he wanted to walk. But the Bucky who was there, in year ten, couldn't look you in the eye and try to keep something in the dark. He knew it wasn't right and that lies usually backfired on the person telling them. Besides, ever since you had decided to try to have a relationship, you had made him promise never to keep anything from you, no matter how stupid or horrible it was. You had been in such a toxic relationship with him before that you only wanted to look out for each other's welfare. A relationship based on trust and communication was a good relationship.

And Bucky wanted to keep his promise, even if you couldn't remember it.

So he was keeping his space, but he was always aware of what you were doing. And that's why he noticed every time you would give him a questioning look and then pull back and focus your attention on something else when you noticed he was looking at you.

Bucky wasn't sure if it was a good or bad idea what he was doing. He could just walk up and talk to you, maybe you were willing to do that. Or you might think he was crazy for watching you from afar like he was an eagle and didn't want you near him under any circumstances. Bucky didn't know what to do, and asking the team wasn't in his options, so he just decided to do what he thought best.

One day, a couple of weeks after you returned to the Complex, Bucky met you casually. Really, casually.

He had spent a whole week in constant stress so he hadn't even been able to get near the side of the Complex where you were staying. He had been assigned an undercover mission and it had turned out to be a little more complicated than it seemed at first. There were too many fights involved in the end, but he had achieved his goal.

The day he arrived at the Complex he took a long shower and a long nap. It was the least he deserved. After waking up, he went to the kitchen to make himself a coffee because it was just getting light, when he saw you leaning on the kitchen counter.

You froze at the same time he did. Bucky wasn't expecting the first person he would meet to be you, he didn't even know you were already freely leaving your safe place, but life is full of surprises, apparently. Bucky noticed your wary gaze on him, how the cup you held in your hands had been halfway to its destination and how your body moved only to breathe.

He moved, continuing with what he had gone to do, despite feeling that captivating electricity coursing through his body and asking him to move closer to you. Moving his eyes away from yours felt like a sin and his body was almost reluctant to follow the directions in his head.

Bucky finally approached the coffee pot to notice the steaming liquid coming out of it. So, it was coffee that was in your cup.

He was a little hesitant to drink from the coffee you had made because he didn't know how you would react to his intrusion, so he decided to move to the other side of the kitchen where the drawers were and grab the first cereal to be found.

“You can have some of that coffee,” you spoke to him suddenly, resuming your movements and he could barely turn to look at you over his shoulder. “Clint did it.”

Bucky followed your eyes moving all over the instance, anywhere but on his, and even though he felt he'd had a year to prepare for this, it seemed completely insufficient: nothing would have prepared him to ever again hear your nonchalant voice directed at him the way you spoke to him before you decided to become a couple. Bucky thought that those years had been buried in the back of his head, that the situation you were going through wouldn't bring back memories he preferred to keep hidden, but thinking about doing it was easier than actually doing it.

He moved his body almost groaningly until he was back in front of the coffee pot next to you. Hearing you talking to him like that had knocked his mood to the floor. He wasn't too high either, that mission was both physically and mentally exhausting, but he was more relieved to be back at the Complex.

“I didn't see you this week,” you spoke again as Bucky thought you were about to leave the kitchen. He moved his head to look at you, his expression indescribable, you could barely describe him as dumbfounded and bewildered.

Bucky mumbled a few words before responding. “I was on a mission. Far away.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in response, and Bucky nearly melted at the sound. Even though he recognized your demeanor, because that was how you acted before when you wanted to get information out of him or when talking to someone you suspected was hiding something from you, he couldn't help but rejoice at finding little gestures that made him reminisce about the good times he had with you.

With more encouragement, Bucky poured his black coffee under the umbrella of your expectant indifference.

“How have the others been?”

He moved to stand in front of you with the cup in his hands, and could notice how subtly your shoulders slumped a little. He couldn't define whether in calm or ennui.

“It's been… complicated.”

“Are they very insistent?”

You turned your head to look at him, and Bucky nearly choked on the sip of coffee he'd taken. He thought you'd keep visually ignoring him and not turn to look at him like he was a life preserver in the middle of the ocean.

“They're horrible,” you barely whispered, your head bobbing closer in complicity. Far gone was your mask of coldness the moment you found someone to complain to about how terrifying those weeks at the Complex had been. “I feel like I can't move my hair without having someone behind me asking me if I want my hair combed for me or if I was moving it because I had a headache. Anything I do is over-analyzed and that's so…ugh, so frustrating.”

Bucky definitely didn't expect you to spew all those words in front of him, but he did understand how overwhelmed you must be and mentally berated himself for agreeing to you having visitors from the moment you arrived. His idea was that you would have time to clear your thoughts and to adjust to that new place on your own, but somehow the team managed to convince him to let them in from time to time to greet you because being alone too much all of a sudden wasn't good for your sanity.

He should have known better knowing how clingy and pushy his teammates were.

When he was around you, they behaved, but they seemed to pretty much take advantage of the times when he wasn't around to behave as they pleased.

“I hate being treated like I'm a piece of glass. I understand well what happened and its aftermath and that it affected them too much, but I can still live peacefully without needing them to do things for me. I'm not incapacitated or anything like that.”

“I understand.”

Wow, Bucky, couldn't you have said something much more interesting?

“I'm fine,” you continued speaking as Bucky noticed how your eyes were lost in the distance in the kitchen. “I really feel fine. But they're always on me like trying to convince me otherwise and talking about my memories every other time.”

Bucky furrowed his brow and suddenly felt the sting in his chest from anger. There was only so much Bucky had in life to control his temper and that was you. With anything else, Bucky was nothing but walking indifference. He didn't care about the fights the others on the team had, he didn't care about the decisions that had to be made, he didn't care about what the majority chose, he didn't care about the discussions about the rooms when they had to stay in hotels. But when it came to you, there was no stormo chaser that could withstand his tempestuous attitude.

The limit was that the others could get angry, fight and argue about whatever they felt like, but the moment that started to affect you, Bucky didn't hesitate to step up and shut them all up. That was one of the reasons he was the leader of the mission most of the time. It was easy to recognize his leadership ability, even if he tried to hide it through that window of indifference. He was very objective when it came to making tough decisions and was very capable of organizing whatever chaos had been created around him.

And, at that moment, Bucky felt he had reached his limit. He had let himself be convinced by the team to bring you here to carry out your recovery contrary to what he had thought of leaving you in the city with one of your closest friends that you remembered very well; and then he had let himself be convinced to let them invade your space when it was clear that they were not going to know how to behave around you and would overwhelm you just like they did in the hospital.

Bucky couldn't understand how he could have made such bad decisions about you. He felt he had completely failed you as your husband by not giving you a truly safe place in which to heal.

“I'll tell them not to come back,” Bucky told you after a few seconds in silence and your blank stare focused on his suddenly elated face.

“What?”

Bucky met your gaze. “This wasn't the way I wanted you to spend your recovery, and it's certainly not the way you should spend it. You should be calm, but I don't see that happening. I'm sorry.”

You watched his face, transfixed. Bucky looked quizzical for a few seconds at your dumbfounded stare and no response. His eyes moved around your face trying to figure out if he had said something wrong… until it all clicked in his head.

You didn't remember.

Yes, it seemed stupid because he'd been living with that thought all last year, but apparently he had to remind himself. For a moment, he had gotten so lost, not only in the familiarity of your ramblings and gestures, but also in the annoyance and self-reproach, that he had forgotten for a few measly minutes that you didn't remember. You didn't remember that protective side of him. You didn't remember how much he loved to sit and listen to you talk about others, good things or bad things. You didn't remember how much it made him angry when other people made you the least bit uncomfortable or angry. You didn't remember the way he showed that appreciation, that love for you.

That attitude Bucky was giving you was completely new to you. Surely it was like seeing a different person. Bucky mentally cringed at the thought that you must be thinking of him as a jerk who acted like a teenager and said hurtful things just for the fun of it.

At that moment, he would have liked to take more time when you were in the hospital to talk to you, so he could get to know you and you could see that he was different and not the same person he was six years ago. But at that time he felt so scared. Just the memory of your face contorting when he had told you he was your husband still sent shivers down his spine.

One thing he couldn't deny was that he had lived constantly, even up to that moment, in fear of rejection. When you had reacted that way that time at the hospital, Bucky had at first turned away in fear. But then he had tried to be nice to you, as if nothing had happened. However, he could tell that it was much more strange for you to see the flowers on the table in the room or to have him bring you lunch because the hospital food was so simple. It seemed that no matter what he did, that reluctant expression on your face would not go away.

Then, he stopped trying. He would only show up in your room when you were sleeping, in the daytime or at night, and when everyone gathered for the doctor's checkup. Bucky didn't know how to get back into your life and the very idea was driving him to the brink of panic again. So he tried to have that moment of enlightenment again, but all he got in response was that maybe he should continue to keep his distance.

At that point, Bucky didn't know what to do. It wasn't your fault to react that way because it wasn't what you remembered about him, that wasn't wrong. He felt again that incessant need to pull away and go back to watching over you from a distance, because the look you had given him was so similar to the others that it was scary. Too scary. The possibility that he could never get back even half of what you two had before danced around him like a taunt. The ring on his ring finger too heavy to bear.

“Thank you…? I think,” you replied at last, but without changing the quizzical look on your face.

“I'll talk to Steve,” Bucky announced, a little more impassively than he had planned, and took the cup tightly in his hands with the thought in his head to get out of the kitchen so he wouldn't keep invading your space.

He felt your gaze follow him until he was near the living room.

“Hey, wait.”

He heard your footsteps following him and planted his feet on the floor. He gave you a questioning look over his shoulder, waiting for you to say something. Bucky watched you move from side to side, shifting your weight on your legs, a clear sign of your nervousness. When you looked directly at the contents of your cup instead of his eyes as you spoke, he couldn't help a small smile.

“I'm sorry about that. It's just… This is too weird for me. I wish I could get close and talk to you because that's what my body wants, but my head keeps me alert and defensive when you're around. What I remember about you is not…”

You cocked your head and twisted your lips. Bucky thought that had been the kindest way to describe it.

“You don't have to apologize.”

“But I do have to!” you exclaimed, scowling at him. “It's been a year and you've been nothing but kind to me. You've given me space and time, unlike others-”

Bucky nodded strongly at your words.

“-but I've given you nothing in return.”

He relaxed his features, letting the tension dissipate away from his body. He momentarily pushed away his worries and negative possibilities because you stood there in front of him with such a contrite expression on your face that it caused him physical pain.

“You don't owe me anything, Y/N, okay? What I do I do because I want to, not because I'm expecting anything in return from you. If you feel like you need another week before you talk to me, that's fine, take it. If you feel it's a month, six months, a year, it doesn't matter. Take as much time as you need. Either way, anytime, you know where to find me. I'm not going anywhere.”

Bucky hadn't missed the journey of emotions that roared across your face and he was genuinely happy about it. It had been a while since he had seen you feel not only comfortable but joyful around him, that he had begun to think that those moments would only live on in his memory from now on. But, perhaps, that might not have been the case…

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmured after sighing, and if Bucky hadn't been so attentive to you he surely would have missed it. Along with the small smile you gave him that would be enough to keep his sanity afloat for the rest of the month.

You saw him give you a small nod and then begin to walk away, leaving as the sun's rays began to appear through the living room window. A strange feeling settled in your chest, and it seemed like a turf battle was taking place between your reluctance to accept that Bucky had changed and that you two had taken your relationship four levels higher than expected, and this new feeling that was akin to hope. You could barely recognize it.

You didn't know how you were going to begin to deal with the reality that you were married to Bucky, but you suddenly felt a little less afraid to know the history of the decisions that had brought you to this point.

You remembered the wedding ring that was tucked away in your nightstand drawer and how it shone just as brightly as the one you saw on Bucky's finger. Maybe you felt a little closer to being ready to start dealing with it.

#bucky imagine #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes x fluff #avengers #bucky fluff #bucky x you #marvel #calmly remember

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old-type-40 · 9 months

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"She's a scientist on Starbase One. I tend not to stay in the same place for very long, which is... a growing problem, because Carol is... pregnant."

I had noticed back when the episode aired on Thursday that this comment from Kirk about his on again/off again but currently on again relationship with Carol Marcus caused confusion for some in the Trek fandom. They thought from the events in TWOK that Kirk didn't know he had a son.

But the dialogue from a couple of scenes indicates he did know that David was his son but he hasn't seen him since he was a child because Carol didn't want him to be a part of their lives. And Carol never told David who his father was.

Right after Kirk, McCoy, and Saavik beam into the cavern on the Regula asteroid, David attacks Kirk with a knife and Kirk disarms him.

Kirk: Where's Doctor Marcus? David: I'm Doctor Marcus! Carol (rushing out): Jim! Kirk: Is that David?

And later when Jim and Carol have time alone together -

Kirk: I did what you wanted. ...I stayed away. ...Why didn't you tell him? Carol: How can you ask me that? Were we together? Were we going to be? You had your world and I had mine. And I wanted him in mine, not chasing through the universe with his father. ... Actually, he's a lot like you. In many ways. Please tell me what you're feeling. Kirk: There's a man out there I haven't seen in fifteen years who's trying to kill me. You show me a son that'd be happy to help him. My son. ...My life that could have been, ...and wasn't. And what am I feeling? ...Old. ...Worn out.

So Kirk's comment about Carol are consistent with canon. And speaking of consistency with canon, did you catch Spock mentioning that there are 200 crew members on the Enterprise? This matches what Pike said in The Cage/The Menagerie when he said he was tired of being responsible for 203 lives. So by the time of TOS, they more than doubled the size of the crew.

#star trek #strange new worlds #snw #snw spoilers #subspace rhapsody

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topazy · 2 months

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Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.07

“Why can’t Maggie be in here?”

An older woman with auburn hair named Deanna smiles at you. She was in charge of Alexandria, and she would be deciding if your group would get to stay or not. You didn’t mind talking to her initially, but what made you uneasy was her videoing your conversation and not allowing your sister to sit in the room with you.

“I won't bite,” she smiles. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable; I just want to ask you a few questions.”

When your group first arrived in Alexandria, everyone was made to hand their weapons over, and now being asked personal questions... it felt intrusive. Deanna straightens out old-fashioned flora curtains before wiping her finger along her bookcase, which was fully stacked. She smudges the dust between her fingers, then turns to you and asks, “How long have you been out there?”

“Uh, I’m unsure. Two years maybe.”

She sits down in the chair across from you and asks, “How did you all find each other?”

“When someone got shot, they were brought to my family's farmhouse so my dad could help save them.”

She looks intrigued. “Is your father a doctor?”

“No, he was a veterinarian.”

“Smart man. I’m assuming because you’re referring to him in the past tense, he’s no longer with us.”

“I lost my dad not long ago.”

“Have you lost anybody else?”

“I lost my big brother Shawn, mom, and cousin Arnold all on the same day. Walkers attacked them. My dad and sister were killed by people.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, sounding sincere. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

Deanna shakes her head and says, “You are far too young to have lost so much. I truly am sorry. So, as far as I’m aware, Rick is the leader of your group.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“How do you think he does?”

You thought you could handle a few more questions, but tears began to swell. You didn’t like being asked anything because it brought everything you'd been through back. “Rick is a good person; everyone in our group is. We’re a family.”

—

Your group was given two large houses to stay in for now, but so far everyone has just gathered into one and is taking turns cleaning up. Being in the walled-off community felt like being in a TV show where the rich housewives live in the suburbs. The only thing you felt was normal was Daryl cutting open a possum while sitting on the porch. Your eyes widen when Rick walks outside; he has showered and shaved off his beard, making him look like a completely different person.

But then again, you looked different. After showing Rosita how to braid your hair, a nice blonde woman named Jesse dropped off some clean clothes for you to wear, along with toys for Judith.

“Has anyone been there yet?” You point to the house next door.

“I don’t think so,” Carl says, looking up at his dad. “Can we go check it out?”

Hesitantly, Rick agrees. “You can go look; just be quick and stick together.”

—

The house next door was nearly identical, aside from a few decorations. Growing up on a farm, you’d never dreamed of living in a modern home built like this. Carol had come with you to check it out; she was now leaning out of the kitchen window, talking to the people who live in the house next door.

When you hear a thumping noise coming from upstairs, you jump and grab Carl’s wrists. “Shit, sorry.” Feeling heat rush to your cheeks, you let go. “I’m just on edge.”

“It’s fine.” Carl offers you his hand. “I get it; I’m scared all the time too.”

He loosely holds onto your hand as you walk up the stairs, and when you reach the room, the noise is coming from Carl. He pulls out his knife and waits for you to do the same before pushing the door open. The room looks like a typical teenage hangout spot; the floor was covered in magazines, comics, CDs, and weirdly designed pillows with posters of bands you’ve never heard of before pinned to the walls.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Carl says, “These are probably things we would have been interested in if things were different.”

“Not me,” you sigh. “I would never have been allowed magazines with half-naked women on the cover. Shawn was grounded for two months when Maggie found a magazine with a woman wearing nothing but a bikini under his bed.”

Carl laughs while kicking a dusty blanket aside to see what’s underneath it. After a few moments of silence, he says, “You never talk about your brother much.”

A fleeting smile tugs at your lips. Being the youngest, Shawn completely doted on you, and as a child, you would follow him around like a shadow. He always had time for you. His death hit you so hard because you thought he would always be there to protect you, but he died trying to save your mom from walkers.

“Hope? You okay, you kind of zoned out there.”

Hearing Carl’s voice, you snap out of your thoughts and back to reality. “Yeah,” you say, smiling at him. “I was just thinking that my brother would have really liked you.”

—

You bite the insides of your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing. Judith looks so confused as an elderly couple. Natalie and Bob Miller fuss over her. It was clear there weren’t many kids around, and this was the first time anyone had seen a baby in years, so they were all excited to see Judith.

“Is that Jesse?” Carl asks quietly.

You look up and see his dad talking to her, “Yeah, she’s nice.”

“My dad seems to like her. He says we’re to go to her house later and meet her son, Ron.”

It was weird; the idea of being a normal teenager was starting to freak you out.

—

After showing you around his home, Ron led you and Carl up to his bedroom to introduce you to his friend Mikey and girlfriend Enid. You were still trying to wrap your head around the idea of returning to school in the afternoons, which was held in a garage, when Carl nudges you with his elbow to gain your attention.

“Sorry, what?”

Ron chuckles. “I said cool bracelet; where do you get it?”

“Em, Carl found them,” you mutter.

“Neat, kind of like a souvenir of the apocalypse.” He pushes his bedroom open. “Enid, Mikey, this is Carl and Hope.”

After an awkward introduction, Ron lists the different things that they do while hanging out, such as reading comics, playing video games, and playing pool. The fact they had electricity from solar panels was mind-blowing enough, but seeing all the stuff they had was leaving you speechless.

You smile at Enid as you sit on the edge of Ron's double bed, while Carol joins the other boys in playing video games. You thought it was a little bit in bad taste; they were playing a zombie video game, but don’t mind watching until a particular scene happens: one of the players finds a sword and begins decapitating the undead.

You and Carl exchange a look before you excuse yourself. “I gotta go; I need to help Maggie with something.”

—

Rick isn’t the slightest surprised when he enters Carl’s new bedroom and finds you in it as well. You were staring out the window in his room that overlooks the woods outside, watching as walkers gathered on the opposite side of the wall. While Carl lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Rick sits at the edge of the bed, asking, “How was Ron’s house?”

“What do you think of this place?” Carl asks him.

“Well, I think it seems nice.”

“Yeah, I like it here. I like the people, but they’re weak. And I don’t want us to get weak.”

The people here don’t have a clue what it’s like on the outside, and if the walkers broke through the wall, most of them would be dead in five minutes.

When Rick leaves, you go and sit on the floor with your back against the bed. You pick up one of the comics Carl found earlier, place it in your lap, and start to flip through. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you look up and ask, “What?”

Carl looks as if he’s struggling to say something; after a moment, he swings his arm lower and links his fingers with yours.

#the walking dead #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes/reader #carl grimes fanfic #Carl Grimes x you #carl grimes x reader #Carl Grimes/you #carl grimes #teen spirit #teen spirit 5.07 #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfiction

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