#chapter 5 IS on the way i promise keep an eye out
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Inescapable Part 5 (Steddie X Y/N)
A/N: Ok I have one more part left...I think lol I'm 90% positive I have one more part left but sometimes I type and more of a story flows lol
Enjoy!
Warnings: Convicts Dom Older Steddie (Sir Eddie/ Daddy Steve) & Fem Sub Younger Y/N, SMUT, dirty talk (all the dirty talk), trying to be quiet, praise, etc. FLUFF, they love her and she loves them, Steddie being good dads to Olivia <3
ANGST (đ)
Coming off the last chapter they are on the run, a guard is hurt (brief mentions of blood), the guys finally tell her what happened in 86 (slight season 4 spoilers), mentions of PTSD (especially with Eddie), Reader and Steve get into a small fight (very brief), brief mentions of Y/N and Olivia being considered hostages while they're all on the run, Cliffhanger ending! Involving an idiot from their past and they are prepared to let their dark (slightly toxic) side take over to resolve the problem.
Word Count: 6843
Inescapable Series/ Donate to Me :)
Steveâs eyes continually flick to the rear-view mirror as you stare out the window of the third car they had stolen on this trip alone. It had been about 24hrs and you still looked incredibly worn out. Eddie made sure you took all your pills that were listed in your chart and sat in the backseat with you to keep an eye on Olivia when you finally fell asleep.Â
âShhh⊠Everythingâs ok, sweetheart. You just had to get here early, didnât you? Were you worried about your momma to? Yeah?â, he grinned when his daughter cooed.
âAlright, Iâm going to pull over here. That way we can all rest and get something to eat.â, the other man conveyed as he pulled into a hotel parking lot.Â
After grabbing a key and hiding the car in the back, Steve carried you inside and placed you on the bed beside where Eddie had placed the baby.Â
âGo ahead and relax. Iâll run and grab some food. I saw a diner next door and we still have some formula from the convenience store we stopped at.â
Nodding at his friend, the metalhead pushes down his baseball cap over his long hair he had pulled up into a messy bun and hurries out the door. As it closes, the loud thunk stirs Olivia as she begins to whine.Â
âOh no, honey, itâs ok.â, Steve tries to sooth as he picks her up and bounces her carefully in his arms. âItâs ok. Daddy didnât mean to scare you. You have to be quiet or else youâre going to wake up mommy.â
After grabbing the pacifier and climbing into the bed beside you, he canât help but smile as you curl tighter into him. This is all Steve ever wanted, a little family of his own. When they started interacting with you, his mind was always a buzz with fantasies of waking up beside you every morning or going down the stairs of a big house to find his kids cackling as they ate their breakfast. Coming home after a long day at the office to find you and Eddie working together to help the children with their homework and make dinner.Â
Images like that fueled him as he used it for motivation to get through each day until they were set freeâŠuntil your dad ripped that awayâŠ
Steveâs nose scrunched in anger as it ran through his body before his daughter sighing brought him back to the moment.Â
***
âGoddamn it.â, Eddie grumbled as he tripped over his feet reentering the hotel room. Spotting you three passed out on the bed had his heart fluttering as he placed the food down on the table.Â
You looked so tiny against Steveâs large frame as his palm rested on your temple while Olivia was asleep on his broad chest with her fatherâs protective hand keeping her steady.Â
This is all Eddie ever wanted, a family. Something he never got to have growing up. Wayne was the only person in the Munson line that seemed to give a shit about him and he promised himself when he got married and had kids they would never feel unwanted.Â
When they met you, he envisioned a picture-perfect life with you and Steve by his side with a bunch of little rugrats running around. He would take you somewhere outside of Hawkins where you three could start fresh and feel safe.Â
Maybe that was still something he could have if you three made it where you were going.Â
The sound of you stirring and wincing grabbed his attention as he checked the clock before digging into a bag to grab your pills.Â
âHey, sweetheart. Come on. Time to take this next set of meds and I got some food for you to.â, Eddie whispers as he takes your forearm and helps you to the table. âHow are you feeling?â
âHmâŠbetter, thank you.â
âTell me about the birth. What happened?â, he asks as he begins sorting everything.Â
âThe doctor thinks it was stress that induced me. It hurt so bad, Eddie. Derek rushed me to the hospital and I was there forever. After she was born, I guess I lost a bit too much blood and passed out. Told you, she was a vampire.â, you smile as the man across from you tries to do the same but canât hide his worry.Â
At the sound of the bags jostling, Steveâs eyes open and the metalhead hastily scurries over to move Olivia so he can get up to eat as well.Â
âThanks, man.â
âShe has my last name. I wanted to give her yours butââ
âWe know, baby. Your, um, your dad told us.â
âIs he the one that gave you those bruises?â, you ask as you reach out to touch the other manâs face.
âLetâs not talk about that right now, ok? I called Dustin and he said heâs going to send us some things at a P.O. Box a couple towns over soââ
âI want to talk about it now.â Your tone is firm, much stronger than it had been these past couple of days. âWhat happened? What made you escape now instead of before? You said my father saw me leavingâŠâ
Annoyance darkens their eyes but you remain unshaken as you glare back.Â
âYou were covered in blood. Did you kill someone?â
âAnd if we had?â, Steve snaps. âWhat would that change? Would you take Olivia and run back to your asshole dad? Turn us in and put us back where we belong?â
âNo, you fucking dick. I just sacrificed everything to be here with you two so donât you dare talk to me like that.â, you growl before sighing heavily from exhaustion as you lean back in your seat.
Blinking, the pretty boy calms down, reaching for your soda, and holding the straw to your lips that you eagerly sip.
âIâm sorry, honey. Itâs been a rough few hours.â, Steve exhales as he tilts back in his chair as well. âYour dad showed up with some of the guards who are his friends I guess and beat the shit out of me and him.â
âHe was going to separate us.â, Eddie added with a crack in his voice as he stared at the table in front of him. âHe was going to send me to Indianapolis where my father is and Steve to Washington. Y/N, part of the reason weâve made it this long is each other. We protect each other.â
âThat first week we went in some guy jumped me because of my last name. Munson beat his ass and anyone else who even had the idea. Later on, inmates tried to hurt him to get to me because Iâm softâŠor so they thought⊠One night some fucker stabbed him so I did the same. No body messed with us after that.â
âIf he separated us, Steve would have been hurt or worse and my dad with his own asshole goonsâŠâ, the metalhead shakes the thought from his brain as his eyes meet yours. âYouâd have been trapped in Hawkins aloneâŠâ
âDidâDid you have to kill someone to escape?â
Thereâs a long pause in the conversation before Eddie finally shook his head.
âWhat the fuck are we going to do, Ed?!â
âI donât know, Steve.â, the man replies with a flat expression as his friend manically paces in their cell.Â
âWeâll both be killed and what about Y/N? She and Olivia will be all alone with fucking Derek and her asshole father!â
âYeah.â
âYeah?! Just yeah?! In Washington, I canât protect them or you! Eddie, if you go to Indianapolis, your dad is going to fucking teach you a lesson! I guess it doesnât fucking matter though because as soon as they throw me in a cell up there someone is going to hurt me. The only reason Iâve lasted this long is you!â Steve feels his body fold into itself as he begins to really panic. âI canât leave you or Y/N. I love you both. How am⊠Iâll be all alone⊠I should have just let the bats fucking rip me apartââ
As the boy spoke, the metalhead felt himself get steadily ramped up till he couldnât take it anymore and rushed forward capturing Steveâs face in his palms as his lips crashed to his own.
âIâm not going to let that happen. I didnât let you die then and I wonât let anyone hurt you now. Do you hear me?!â, he roughly growls as he tries to control the tears that want to break free. âYou wonât be alone, sweetheart, I promise. I donât care what I have to do.â
Eddie kisses him a bit softer as the other man nods and clings to his wrist.Â
The lock to their cell slowly opens and both men prepare to fight before coming face to face with a guard they trust.Â
âCome on. We have to move fast.â, Bobby whispers as he ushers them out with his hand and they hastily follow. After leading them to the area he allowed them to leave through last time, he paused and handed the long-haired boy a small knife. âOk, you remember how to get out right? Now since you arenât coming back I need it to look like you overpowered me.â
âWait, canât we just hit you or something?â
âNo, thatâd be too suspicious. If this is really what you want to do, you need to decide now.â
Both boys glance at each other before Eddie steps towards him and places his palm on the guardâs shoulder.Â
âThank you, man. For everything youâve done for us and Y/N.â
âI always knew you were innocent and Y/N has always been kind to me.â, Bobby smiles softly before nodding his head. âTry and hit this side here. Iâll radio it in, in two minutes so you better fucking run. Good luck, guys.â
âIt was so fast, Y/N. As soon as we hit the woods, the alarms started going off. I didnât think weâd get to you.â, Eddie sighed as he finished his story, their eyes flicking your way as you started to cry. âNo, hey, no. Donât cry, sweetheart.â, he pleaded as he got out of his chair to fall on his knees in front of you and take your hands.
âThis is all my fault. Maybe if I had listened to you and left with my mom orââ
âMaybe all of this would have happened anyway.â, Steve cut you off as he pet your head. âYour dad isnât exactly a trust worthy man.â
âI love you so much and everything is going to be alright.â
âYeah, princess, it will.â, the long-haired boy beamed as he kissed your lips.Â
##################
Three Years Later
âOlivia!â, you giggle as your daughter continues to dance around while you try to pull on her jacket. âDo you want to play outside or not?â
âYeah.â
âOk, then you have to let me put this on you or else youâre going to freeze to death.â
âNo, mommy! I no freeze to die!â, she laughs, her cackle reminding you of Eddie as she shows off all of her teeth and gums.Â
It had been three years since you made it over the border into Canada with your convict boyfriends in the trunk and Dustinâs falsified papers at your side. You managed to make it to a tiny little town and create a new life for yourself that you absolutely loved.Â
With their friends help, you were able to convince a small law firm that you had graduated from college with high marks. Granted it wasnât criminal law like you had been studying but you were still able to help people and that made you happy.Â
Eddie absolutely despised cutting his hair but to keep a low profile he did what needed to be done. Like Olivia, he tended to keep it longer than normal but as soon as it started to go too low past his ears, he went to the shop to get it cut. Because they didnât want to be too far from each other having been in a small cell together for over 10 years, both men got a job at a car dealership with him in the automotive shop and Steve as a salesman.
Out in public, people called you three by different names but in your home you were still Y/N, Eddie, and Steve. The little dwelling the pretty boy was able to find was modest but perfect for your family with two bedrooms and a large backyard for your daughter to run around in.Â
Thankfully for her, she never sensed anything was amiss when it came to her life and you hoped to keep it that way for as long as you could.Â
After lifting her into your arms, you carried her outside where you watched her run off to climb her jungle gym.Â
âBe careful!â
âOr what?!â, she teased.
âOr else Iâm going to tell your daddy and heâs going to tell Santa you were bad!â
âNu uh!!â
âYeah huh!â
âWhat in Godâs name are you two shouting about?â, Steve grinned as he opened the back door to join you guys outside.Â
âOur daughter is being mean.â
Eddie kisses your lips before running towards Olivia who opened her arms wide to give him a big hug.Â
âEw, daddy! Smell bad.â
âOh yeah? I know, we had a car in today that Iâm surprised didnât explode. How was your day, sweetheart?â
âGood. Mommy take me t-to work.â
âDid you two have fun?â, the other man asks as he leans down to give her a big hug as well.Â
âYeah! MisterâŠMr. Jackson gave me cookie!â
Grinning, the three of you sit on your back patio as you watch Olivia play. This was everything they ever wanted and they were so grateful to be able to experience this with you.
***
âMmphâfuck, Steve. Feels so goodâ
âShhhhh, baby.â, the pretty boy scolds making you smile as you pass by the open bathroom door in your shared bedroom before throwing yourself down in front of your desk and turning on your bulky computer.Â
As the years passed, both men seemed to open up more when it came to their love for each other and you absolutely encouraged it. You wanted them to feel safe and loved not just with you but themselves. Now that there was no longer the looming threat of prisoners and being hurt, they confided in you that it no longer felt like survival but genuine affection that they could now feel openly without fear of it being exploited.
Sliding on your headphones to give them extra layer of privacy, you did what you do every night and began double checking information online.Â
That first year, message boards and police sites were full of information trying to hunt down the two escapees and their âhostagesâ. You assumed your father thought that would not only protect you from any prosecution (or embarrassment for him) but make people hunt for them harder if they believed they had kidnapped a baby.
As time progressed news began to dwindle and for that you were thankful. There was the occasional âsightingâ but when you read the article you breathed a sigh of relief realizing it wasnât even close to where you were.Â
The feeling of fingers in your hair brought you back to the moment as you leaned your head back just in time for Eddieâs lips to softly land on yours.Â
âAnything new out in the world?â
âMmmâŠno.â, you grinned as you placed your headphones and CD player to the side.Â
âFuck me, itâs cold.â, Steve whined as he scurried out of the bathroom and hastily threw on his sweats with a long sleeve shirt. âHow are you two not cold?â
âYou would think heâs never grown up around snow.â, the other boy teased as he leaned his head on your shoulder. âOne of these days one of you will have to show me how to use this thing.â, he gestures towards the computer. âEspecially since Dustin and Mike showed Wayne how to sign up for email.â
âIs that safe?â, Steve asks cautiously as he places his hands on his hips behind you both. âI mean can they likeâŠtrack who he emails toâŠâ
âHe may have a point. Itâs ok. Weâve all had to make sacrifices to be up here.â, Eddie sighs as he tries to smile your way.Â
âBaby, I donât see why it would be a problem. All of our information is under our aliases so if they did look it wonât seem odd.â, you comfort as you place your hand on his thigh.Â
âNaw, sweetheart, heâs right. I can just keep sending him letters without the return address like weâve been doing. Iâm, um, Iâm going to go grab a beer and check on Olivia.â
After kissing your forehead, he sullenly heads for the kitchen and you rise to your feet to smack Steveâs chest.Â
âOw! What?â
âSteve, he deserves to talk to the only other family he has. He can send him emails under the Ronnie name. Itâs not like the police are going to descend from the ceiling as soon as he hits send.â
âY/N, you donât think the cops will wonder why Eddie Munsonâs uncle is sending emails constantly to only one person whoâs supposedly NOT his nephew?â
âYouâre over thinking it.â
âAm I? Or are you not thinking enough? Honey, we canât afford to jeopardizeââ
âDonât. Donât you dare give me that lecture again, Steven Harrington. I worry about our safety to ok?â
The man exhales heavily as he turns and throws himself into bed, folding his arms like a toddler as you stomp away in the opposite direction to check on the metalhead.
âAnd then Smaug flew over the people of Laketown spewing his fire breathâŠRoar!â, Eddie growled as he opened his arms and pretended to fly around the room breathing fire as you watched from your hidden spot by your daughterâs doorway.Â
Olivia giggled as she clapped her hands and he fell to his knees beside her bed pretending to land.Â
âThe dragon felt like he would be triumphant but he did not expectâŠthe bowmanâŠâ When he widened his eyes, she did the same as she hung on every word. âBard stood his ground amongst the flames with the one weapon he knew would take out his foe.â
You and your daughter waited for him to continue but when he didnât you peeked around the corner to see him standing completely still.Â
âDaddy? Are you ok?â, Olivia asks in a small voice before her eyes meet yours.Â
âBaby?â, you ask as you slowly enter the room and place your palm on his back. His eyes were glazed over as his bottom lip began to tremble. âHey, Eddie, look at me.â, you whisper as you cup his cheek to turn his face.Â
You had seen this happen before with both of them but the triggers never made sense. You originally thought it was the trauma of being in prison but a little while after moving into your home, you went for a walk to explore the town. Everyone was exceptionally friendly including a little old Russian man who told you more about the sea food store he owned near the water.Â
Steve zoned out as the man spoke and when you tried to take his hand in yours, he flinched and tried to cover his face with his arms. You showed your daughter a lot of movies from your childhood and one day during a family movie night a bat just so happened to appear in the background of the scene causing both men to stiffen.Â
You never wanted to push but you always felt so helpless.Â
Olivia stood up on her mattress and wrapped her tiny arms around her fatherâs neck. The action seemed to bring him back as he gradually lifted his own limbs to hug her to his chest.Â
âIâm sorry, sweetheart. Daddy got lost in his own adventure.â, he tried to comfort as his voice cracked. Taking a seat on her bed, he placed her under the covers and smiled as he tucked her in.Â
âOn your ad-ventures, did you fight a dragon?â
âSomething like that, princess. Your dad went into the castle and burned the dragon while he was sleeping while I used my sword outside to protect themâŠjust like Bard.â
âWhoaâŠwhere was mommy?â
Eddie chuckles as his eyes flick to you before focusing on his daughter again.Â
âMommy was resting safely in her own castle which is good because daddy wouldnât have wanted her to get hurt.â
You could tell he was still trying to keep it together when he bent down to kiss her good night and took your hand to lead you back to the bedroom.
âWhat happened there, Ed?â, you ask as he exhales and falls back first onto the mattress. âWhere did you go when you were telling her that story?â
âItâs hard to explain, baby.â
Blinking, you make a decision as you grab your desk chair and wheel till your directly in front of them.Â
âWhat happened in 86?â That grabbed their full attention as they sat up to face you. âI know you didnât kill those people and Iâve never pushed because I donât want to hurt you but itâs been four years and everything weâve been through I deserve to know.â
They exchanged a glance you saw many times between them; two people who knew a truth you didnât.Â
âJust 86? Or should we go back to the beginning in 83?â, Steve asks in a flat tone you werenât prepared for. âThatâs when Barb went missing⊠one of the crimes I was accused of.â
âI⊠I donât know. Just tell me what you feel comfortable telling me.â
âI donât feel comfortable telling you any of it.â
âWhat. Why?â
âBecause you wonât believe us.â, Eddie cut in. âAnd when we tell you the truthâŠyouâre going to call us crazy, realize you were wrong, take Olivia, and go back home.â
His words pierced your heart and cracked it open as the tears stung your eyes.Â
âJesus⊠three years and you still think so fucking little of me.â
As you got to your feet to leave the room, Steve hastily blocked your exit with his body.Â
âY/N, the last time part of the truth came out, it was retracted and used against me to put me in prison. IâmâŠWEâRE scared.â
âSteve, I donât know what happened but whatever did is very real for you two. I see it in your eyes when you both zone out or flinch at something. There are so many things Iâve witnessed and heard in your case that donât make sense but maybe the truth well make those puzzle pieces fit.â
Gesturing with his palm towards the bed, you took his place against the headboard while he sat in your chair and Eddie adjusted his body to face you.Â
âIt all started when Will Byers went missingâŠâ
***
They continued to stare at you as sat their absorbing their words after telling you their entire story. Your logic brain had taken over as your eyes fleeted from left to right sifting through information in your head that you had researched before you met them.Â
âSay something, sweetheart, please.â
âHowâŠhow didnât the fire and the mayor being arrested not give validity to your case?â
Steve exhaled a breathily laugh as he leaned forward balancing his elbows on his knees.
âAfter everything we just told you, I like how thatâs your first question.â
âAnd they didnât look intoâŠhospital recordsâŠafter you wereâŠbeatenâŠâ
âI didnât go to the hospitalââ
âOk but EMS took care of you!â, you shouted as you struggled to catch your breath.
âWhoa, Y/N. Ok, whatâs going on, baby?â, Eddie tried to soothe as he reached for your trembling hands.Â
âAndâŠand youâŠyou almost diedâŠsomeone hurt you and they didnâtâŠdidnâtâŠâ
âY/N, sweetheart. I need you to breathe ok?â
You began to sob as you tried to do what he asked but you were beginning to feel super overwhelmed. Not just at the fact that monsters exist but at the notion that for years unbeknownst to you there was a group of people keeping you safe and in return they were either killed or punished including the two men you loved the most.Â
âLook at me, little girl.â, Steve commanded in a tone you knew well. âWe need you to breathe. No, no. Look at Daddy, baby.â, he says sternly as he cups your cheeks. âThere you go, honey. Inhale, exhale.â
âNeither of you deserve what you went through.â
âYou believe us? Just like that?â
âEddie, you both talk in your sleep. I hear you wake up from nightmares that you donât tell me about. I see it in your face when something happens or when you look at Olivia. I may not have been there or saw what you saw at the time butâŠI see it now.â
âIâm glad you werenât there. ItâsâŠitâs an awful place, Y/N.â
âI wish I could have been there during your trial or when you were at the hospital. I would have taken care of you. I would haveââ
âShhhh⊠hey. Put the logic brain away, nerd.â, Steve teases as he pets your head. âYouâre here now and itâs our job to take care of you.â
Nodding your head, your eyes glance down at the light scaring around his neck that you had seen so many times. Noticing your gaze, he takes off his long sleeve shirt and slides closer allowing you a better look.Â
âThe bites hurt more than anythingâŠlike little knives piercing your sidesâŠâ
Glancing towards Eddie, he scoots closer as well and takes your hand in his placing it on the scar near his heart.
âThis one⊠The doctors kept saying how they were surprised I was still alive.â
Tears started to trickle down your cheeks again and the metalhead quickly cupped them in his hands as his forehead met yours.Â
âItâs ok, baby. Weâre ok. EverythingâŠis ok.â
âI hate the idea of you both being in so much pain.â, you whisper.Â
âWe arenât anymore, Y/N. Not that kind of pain anyway. We all know how sometimes Steve and I can be a bit rough.â
When you laugh the tension in the room breaks.Â
âYeah but you know I like it when youâre rough.â
Eddie quirks up his eyebrow in a teasing manner before capturing your lips with his own. As the passion between you begins to grow, Steve climbs in on the other side of you, bringing your mouth to his as the metalheadâs trail down your neck.
Their strong palms knead your breasts as Eddieâs fingers continued their descent down your smooth frame.Â
âOhâŠâ, you whine eliciting a small smirk from his lips as his middle and ring fingers rub slow circles against your clit.
Your eyes close as your head falls back against the pillows, only opening again when you hear the subtle smacks of their lips interlocking.Â
âSheâs so fucking wet.â
âMmmâfuck her with your fingers, honey, and make her cum. She deserves to.â
âFuckâŠYESââ
As Eddie did what Steve suggested, you struggled to control the volume of your moans as his digits hit every sensitive button inside you that only they knew how to reach causing the pretty boy to slam his hand over your mouth.Â
âYou have to be quiet, baby. Do you need the gag?â
You shake your head and he tosses a smile your way before bouncing between your legs and tossing your panties by your head. Oh, they loved this game. Pushing you to the edge while you try not to scream from pleasure.Â
While Eddieâs fingers curled inside of you, Steveâs lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves. Your legs tried to close around his head but his strong hands kept them still and open.Â
âFuckâŠplease. That feels so good.â
âYeah, baby? You feel good?â
âYes, Sir.â
âGood girl. So beautiful. God, your pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart, I canât wait to feel you cling to my fucking cockâshit.â Eddie stifled his grunt in your neck as your palm reached down to stroke him through his sweats. âReminds meâŠwhen you came to visit usâŠand I fucked your hand through my pants like this. Fuck, baby, all I wanted to do was bend you over that table and fuck you till you were screaming my name.â
At his words, your cunt clenched around his fingers as Steveâs tongue flicked and applied the perfect amount of pressure to your clit as the coil snapped. You moaned a bit too loudly and Eddie shoved your panties into your mouth to silence you.Â
âHavenât gotten better at being quiet though.â, he growled but when your glassy needy eyes met his he felt his resolve begin to break. âFuck, how can I be mad when you look at me like that. You ready for my cock, sweetheart?â
After your nod, Steve moves out of the manâs way as he quickly slides down his pants just enough for his dick to spring free before finding home between your legs. You jump as he taps your nub with his length, grinning at your sensitivity as he guides himself inside your entrance.Â
âGoddamn.â
The metalhead sets a steady pace as his hands find purchase on your hips.Â
âWe talked about this a lot on the inside. What it would be like to fuck youâŠâ, Steve coos as he sits on his knees beside the bed petting your head with one hand while he licked the other before placing it around his cock. âEddie always thought your pussy would taste sweet like you and your letters smelled. Mmph. Sometimes your perfume would still be on our hands from the envelopes and we would jerk each o-other off imagining it was you.â
The more Steve spoke the faster Eddieâs rhythm got as he repeatedly hit that spongy spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling. Falling on top of you, he removed your panties from your mouth but kept them bunched in his hand as he grunted into your ear on the opposite side of his friend while he continued to talk.
âAt night when the lights were outâmmmâI would imagine you in my arms. Sometimes we would climb into the others bunk and grind our cocks against the others ass untilâŠâ
âSirâfuckâMâgonna cum.â
The metalhead was prepared, clamping his hand around your mouth as he pounded into you.
Your whimpers turned to muffled screams as you were blinded by white and your arms wrapped around his neck. As your pussy quivered around him, Eddie mewled your name into your ear till you felt him paint your insides with his release.
As soon as the other man pulls out, Steve lifts you under your arms and moves you around until youâre on top of him straddling his waist. His large palms cling to your hips as you lower yourself onto his length, your movements stuttering slightly at the sensitivity of your last orgasm.Â
âYou got this, pretty girl. Take all the time you need. You just have to be quiet.â
âT-Tell me stories, Daddy, please. I wanna hear âem.â
Eddie breathily chuckled as he rolled over till he was on his back beside Steve.Â
âSteve had never done anything dominate with anyone before so I would let him practice with me. Sometimes, sweetheart, when he would fuck me I would tell him to pretend I was you. Boy, did he have a filthy fucking mouth.â
âY-You liked it.â, he giggled as his head tilted to kiss the manâs lips. âI would say how you belonged to us. How I wanted you on your knees choking on my dick. Fuck.â
âHe would fuck me so hard, Y/N, I would feel him for weeks. Like a silent reminder that we belonged to each other.â
Gripping the back of your neck, Steve yanked you down till your cheek was between his and Eddieâs.Â
âAnd that you belonged to us.â, he whispered as his hips thrust up roughly punctuating his words. âA quiet promiseâfuckâof what we would give you when we got out.â
âPleaseâŠâ
A wicked grin spread across his face as the metalhead pushed your panties back into your mouth before Steve covered it with his other hand.Â
The obscene sound of skin hitting skin filled the room as he slammed his cock deep within you causing your eyes to roll as your head hung as much as it could.Â
âThatâs right, baby girl. You take Daddyâs cock. Good girl. I can feel it, honey. Cum. Cum on Daddyâs cock, Y/N.â You do as he commands, your throat vibrating as you tried to be heard through the gag and Steveâs palm. âAtta girl. Let it go. Ride it out for as l-long as you can. ShitâIâm gonna cum.â
The manâs arms wrapped around your waist as his rhythm faltered and he thrust his spend into your now overstimulated cunt. Fingers reached between your sweaty frames and removed the gag from your mouth.Â
âSuch a good girl. You ok, sweetheart?â
âSheâŠShe said yeah. Fuck that was good.â, Steve answered for you after you whispered the answer exhaustedly in his ear.Â
âAs always.â, Eddie beams as he starts to take you in his arms, chuckling when you groan. âI know, Iâm the worst person. Come on, babe, you need a bath. Steve, you wanna get her some water and check on Olivia?â
While the pretty boy does what he asked, the metalhead quickly gets a bath ready and places you inside the water, smiling softly when you sigh in pleasure.Â
âWe, uh, we didnât just talk about you sexually on the inside. I feel like I should tell you that.â
Your eyes blink as he sits beside you, now in a pair of his blue boxers.Â
âWhat else do you two talk about?â, you ask as you lean forward and run your fingers along the arm he had resting along the porcelain.Â
âWe wondered how we would have met you if we hadnât of been locked up. You worked at The Hideout and I used to play there. Maybe you would have seen me up there playing my guitar or you would have served me a drink.â
âYou were a law student and knowing my dad I probably would have been working with him.â, Steve added as he entered the bathroom and sat on the edge as he handed you the glass of water that you chugged down. âOliviaâs still asleep⊠I probably would have run into you at the Hawkins Library doing some research for a case or something.â
âWeâd definitely be self-conscious at first but act like we were a confident badass.â
âWhy would you be self-conscious?â, you giggle.Â
âBecause youâre beautiful, smart, and young with your whole life ahead of you.â, Eddie answered as he reached up to caress your cheek and you kissed his palm. âWeâd just be some old assholesââ
âEddie.â, you scold making him softly smile.Â
Steve bent down to carefully lift you out of the water, placing you on your feet to dry you off.Â
âMore than anything, Y/N, we talked about this life here. Living with you in our own little house while our kids wreak havoc.â, he chuckles as he focuses on his task.Â
âW-Would you want to have more kids with me?â
When they glance at each other before looking up at you, you know theyâve already had this conversation amongst themselves.Â
âOf course.â, Eddie murmurs as he carries you into the bedroom and picks up the other manâs shirt off the floor to tug over your head. âOf course, sweetheart. Olivia is so fucking amazing and youâre a wonderful mom. Weâd love to have a couple more little Munson/Harrington kids running aroundâŠâ
âButâŠâ
Pushing you back, they climb under the covers with you as the metalhead pulls your back to his chest while Steve moves some stray hair away from your face.Â
âWhat if we have to run again? What if we get caught and youâre left to raise these kids alone? What ifâheyâŠâ, Steve tuts in a firm tone as you sigh in annoyance. âStop. Y/N, we literally fought to have the life we have now and weâd do anything to keep it.â
âWeâre just worried, baby.â, Eddie adds. âThereâs a lot of risk bringing another little life into our world.â
âI love you bothâŠso muchâŠI wonât push butâŠwhenever youâre ready Iâm ready.â
Both men smile at you as your eyes steadily close and you fall asleep.
###################
âHey Miss Franklin!â, the daycare administrator greets you as you walk in beaming through the front door.
âHey Tasha. How was my little monster today?â
âShe was good. Told the other kids her father fought dragons.â, the lady giggles as you playfully roll your eyes. âLet me go grab her.â
As your eyes scan over the children playing, you notice the administratorâs demeanor stiffen while talking to one of the other ladies before nervously smiling your way.
âMiss Franklin, Lily says Oliviaâs uncle came to pick her up about an hour ago.â
Your heart drops as your eyes widen.
âUncle?â
âYeahâŠtall fellow about your age.â As she continued to describe him, the bile in your throat began to rise as anger clouded your brain.Â
âDid he give you a name?â
âUh, yeah itâs right here.â, she replies cautiously as she shows you the sign out sheet.Â
Derek Â
Speeding down the road and running every red light, you practically swerve into the dealership, sprinting inside to find the guys. Steve notices you first, his protective mode kicking in as he grabs your wrist and tells the front desk to send the other man to his office.Â
âY/N, honey, I canât understand you when you talk fast like that. Whatâs going on with Olivia?â
Eddie hastily enters, the door slamming behind him as he steps forward to cup your cheeks.Â
âWhatâs going on?â
âThe daycare said Oliviaâs uncle came to pick her up.â
âWho?â, he growls.Â
âDerekâs name was on the sheet.â, you grumbled matching his anger.Â
Steveâs office phone rings and he recognizes the number immediately, answering it and placing it on speaker.Â
âHello?â
âHi, dada!â, Olivia shouts excitedly causing you to let out a sigh of relief that at least she sounded ok and wasnât hurt.Â
âHey, honey. What are you doing home without mommy?â, he asks trying to sound calm.Â
âUncle Derek picked me up! When are you cominâ home? He wants to talk to mommy.â
âBaby, is he nearby? Can I talk to him?â, you inquire, listening to her little voice speak to someone in the background before a gruff tone pulled through.Â
âHey, babe. Long time no see.â
âIf you hurt her, Derek, I swear to fucking GodâŠâ
âYou must think so little of me. I donât want to do anything to her. Thatâs why I tried to give her a better life with a better father.â
âFuck you, you fucking dickââ, Eddie cut in before Steve grabbed his wrist.
âAh good. Edward is there to or should I say Ronnie and Ben.â, he snickered. âDo you know how long Iâve been looking for you?! Your dad reneged on our deal since you disappeared and my family lost everything. EVERYTHING, Y/N!â
At his outburst, you hear your daughter whine and both menâs eyes grow dark with fury.
âWhat do you want?â
âIâm at your house. Come here so we can talk. If you arenât here in an hour Iâll take her back home with me to your father.â
âThis was a mistake.â, you growled.Â
âMaybe, Y/N. Maybe but for once in your fucking life youâre going to hear what I have to say. Olivia! Say goodbye to your parents.â
âAre they coming home?â, she asks cautiously.
âYes, sweetheart. Weâll be there soon.â, Eddie answers her and his eyes close as he listens to her laugh. âI love you, Olivia.â
âLove you to, daddy. Love you, dada and mommy!â
The phone hangs up before you or Steve can reply.
âWe have an hourâŠâ, the metalhead says more to himself then you two. âI have guns stashed away a couple of miles from the houseââ
âYou are not pulling a gun with my daughter in that house.â, you hiss.Â
âWhat do we do, Y/N? Heâs not going to let us go and even if he wasâŠhe kidnapped our daughter. Heâll be lucky if he leaves the house still fucking breathing.â, Steve retorts in a dark tone you had never heard from him before.
âIâm not saying I disagree but I refuse to let any of this affect her. As far as she knows sheâs a normal child and I want to keep it that way.â
âThen answer his question, Y/N. What the fuck do you want us to do!?â
##################
@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @rockmusiciscalming12 @mikeyswifie @poofyloofy @eddiexmunsonlover @dreamliners @munsonmoonshine86 @bexreadstoomuch @kitkat80 @myherometalhead @hardladyheart @sheisjoeschateau @chelebelletx @yesimabratandwhataboutot @cherryxhaze @utterlyinsanity
#steddie#steddie angst#steddie smut#steddie fluff#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#stranger things#joe keery#joseph quinn#eddie munson#steve harrington#fan fiction#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#steve harrington smut#Steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#steddie x you#steddie x y/n#steddie x reader#eddie fanfic#daddy steve harrington#sir Eddie munson#dom steddie#sub reader
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á°á© motherhood and matrimony I ch 2 á°á©
êšïž pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader
êš summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoruâs father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.
êšïž warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex » ănote, there is physical & emotional intimidation in this chapter (from naoya not satoru), this is a form of domestic abuse, reader discretion advisedă
êš words: 12.5k
êš a/n. firstly, wow thank you so much for all your kind words on ch 1 :") secondly, this series may be more than 3 chapters (maybe more like 4 or 5?) idk i'm still working out the pacing rn bc i really want the relationship to feel fluid and natural. this chapter ended up being much longer than i anticipated đ
but as always, i would love to hear your thoughts and hope you enjoy âĄ
êš taglist: closed (ao3)
⏠playlist
series masterlist êšïž previous chapter êšïž next chapter â
ch 2 // under the spotlight
Becoming a mother makes you realize you can do almost anything one-handedâthough honestly, sometimes you wish you had an abundance of limbs. Â
Especially now. Your apartment is a whirlwind of activity â scattered toys, half packed bags and the remnants of breakfast still on the table. Youâre in the middle of prepping your daughterâs essentials, trying to make sure you donât forget anything important. Her preferred snacks, extra clothes, diapers, and a few of her favorite toys all stuffed into a bag.
âMama, mama, look!â
Haruâs innocent voice rings out like a melody amidst your morning clamor. Halting your frantic movements, youâre drawn to her face, lit up with pure joy as she holds up her beloved Pikachu plushie. The bright yellow toy bounces in her hands as she makes it dance.
Her innocence provides a brief, much-needed, calm to the storm of nerves brewing inside of you. After all, todayâs the day youâre meeting with Satoru and his lawyer to finalize the marriage contract. Your marriageâweird.
It feels odd saying it, the word foreign on your tongue. Marriage is a concept you never thought youâd be rushing into, especially not like this.
Once upon a time, you thought youâd marry Naoya Zenin.
Back then, you were so in love with his charm, his confidence, and the way he seemed to have everything figured out. But reality had a way of shattering those illusions.
His charm turned to arrogance, his confidence to control. It wasnât long before you realized he cared more about owning you than loving you, and now youâre left with nothing but heartache and a broken family.
But amidst your turmoil you found a precious giftâHaru.
Her infectious giggle is a stark contrast to the chaos within your mindâit always manages to pull you back from your whirlwind of worries.
Youâll do anything in your power to keep her smiling, even if that means marrying Satoru Gojo, the man who is guilty for an abundance of your headaches.
With a deep breath, you zip up your duffle bag and turn to Haru who is lovably babbling to Pikachu.
âCome here, sweetie,â you say, kneeling down with her small jacket in your hand.
She toddles over to you, clutching her comforting plushie, eyes wide and curious.
Easing her tiny arms into the sleeves, you gently help Haru into her jacket.
âWeâre going to meet some new friends today,â you tell her softly, fastening the buttons with care. âOne of them is named Mr. Gojo.â
âMr. Gojo?â she echoes, face scrunching up in concentration.
Truth be told, you weren't planning on bringing Haru to this meeting, but youâre faced with a lack of options, especially since technically, youâre fired.
Well⊠temporarily.
Until Satoru rehires you, paying the nanny isnât feasible with your already stretched finances, Utahime, your ever-reliable friend, is unavailable. Your neighbor, who sometimes steps in to help, is out of town, and your mom is⊠your mom â as undependable as ever.
At this point you'd rather be caught dead than call Naoya again.
Calling him yesterday, when your nanny bailed, was a moment of pure desperation, a lapse in judgment driven by the chaos of the day and the fear of getting fired. Not your proudest moment.
Itâs no surprise heâll likely use it against youâhold it over your head like a weapon. Itâs a pattern youâre all too familiar with.
But today marks the beginning of a new chapter, one that youâre determined to make the best of for both you and your daughterâonce this marriage is finalized, youâll be back to earning a steady income again.
A sigh escapes your lips as you focus back on Haru, her innocent eyes look up at you expectantly.
âYes, Mr. Gojo,â you repeat, giving her a reassuring smile as you reach down to tie her shoelaces. âWeâre going on an adventure today, just you and Mommy.â
âAn adventure!â Haru cheers, clapping her hands in unbridled excitement.
Just as you pull the last loop tight, a knock reverberates through the front door, startling you. Itâs unexpected, you werenât anticipating any visitors.
With a deep breath, you twist the handle and pull the door open. The sight that greets you sends a cold wave of dread crashing over you, your heart pounding in your chest.
Speak of the devilâNaoya.
He has an uncanny knack for impeccable timing, always appearing when heâs least wanted.
His presence is as imposing as everâa smirk crowned on his lips, posture relaxed, hands in his pocketsâexuding an air of ownership over everything thatâs around him.
As if he owns you.
Damn it. You really canât deal with this right now; you donât have the time. Satoru is expecting you, and you need to get moving.
Leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, he surveys you with that annoyingly smug expression plastered upon his face.
"Well, well, if it isn't my two favorite girls," he drawls, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
The frustration you feel from Naoya is vastly different from what you experience with Satoru. With Satoru, it's harmlessâlike dealing with a mischievous child. But with Naoya, every sight of him makes you want to flee, as if each encounter is a battle you barely survive. He reopens old wounds that never truly healed, leaving you raw and exposed.
Every fiber of your being screams in protest at the sight of him, but you force yourself to maintain composureârefusing to let him see the effect he has on you.
"What do you want, Naoya? I really donât have time for this today."
Turning away from him, you begin gathering the last of Haruâs things with brisk, precise movements, making it clear you have no intention of prolonging this interaction.
He steps inside, smirk widening with satisfaction and tone laced with mock concern.
"Just thought I'd drop by and see how you're managing. Got your message. Heard you were looking for a babysitter yesterday.â
As expectedâyouâre really kicking yourself for calling him. His false sympathy only heightens your irritation, grating on your nerves as the condescension drips from his words like venom.
If you werenât already leaving, you would slam the door right in his smug face.
Gritting your teeth, you attempt to keep your tone steady, for no one other than Haru.
"We're fine, Naoya. We donât need your help."
In hopes to end this conversation quickly, you grasp Haruâs hand and attempt to brush past him. But he sidesteps, effectively forbidding your path to the door, looming like an unwanted shadow.
"Still as stubborn as ever, I see. Howâs that working out for you?â he scowls as he peers through your apartment, âThis place is a mess. And you donât look like youâre dressed for work. Lost your job already?â
His words hit a nerve, you feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
"We are managing just fine. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be."
But he wasnât going to let you go so easily. His expression darkens, and as you repeatedly try to step past him, he halts you yet again, blocking your way like an insurmountable wall.
"And where exactly are you going? Shouldn't you be at work today?"
"That's none of your business. I really need to go," you retort, lifting your chin assertively as you force your way past him. Your shoulder brushes against his in a deliberate act of defiance.
The moment you cast him aside, he immediately pursues afterâbut choosing to ignore him, you close the door behind you, turning the lock with a decisive click.
As you start leading Haru towards the elevator, you adopt a brisk pace in hopes to put as much distance between you and Naoya as possible.
But he raises an eyebrow, smirk widening as he traverses after you. You hear his footsteps echoing down the hallway of your apartment complex.
"Oh, I think it is my business. Especially when it concerns my daughter."
Oh, please.
Itâs painfully ironic how he pretends to care about Haru only when it suits him.
After you served him child support papers, he had the audacity to demand a DNA test, claiming he needed âproofâ that Haru was his. Of course, something like that takes time for the judge to arrange.
He knew that damn wellâit was just another ploy to delay the process further.
As anger bubbles up within you, a scoff escapes your lips, teetering on the edge of a bitter laugh.
"Oh, so sheâs yours when itâs convenient for you. Don't pretend you care about Haru now. Youâve done nothing but make our lives difficult."
Your movements are sharp and frantic until you finally halt in front of the elevator. Just as you press the button to descend, Naoyaâs presence descends over youâsuffocating like a dark cloud, his face twisting into a menacing scowl.
"Maybe if you werenât so damn stubborn, things wouldnât be so difficult. You know, if you ever need help, all you have to do is ask," the insincerity in his voice makes your skin crawlâas his words slither into your ears, each syllable is laced with a condescending edge.
You scoff, jabbing the button over and over again with mounting urgency. Can this damn elevator come any faster?
"Help? From you? I'd rather figure things out on my own than rely on your 'help'."
He steps closer, making you feel small and cornered. Itâs a familiar tactic he would use to get his wayâthe accustomed sense of intimidation he used to exert over you returns, chilling your spine.
"Suit yourself. Just remember, you canât keep this up forever. Sooner or later, youâll realize you need me again,â his voice drops to a low, threatening whisper, the underlying menace making it clear that he relishes the control he still believes he has over you.
Suddenly, you feel small tiny hands gripping tightly onto your leg. Haruâs wide eyes dart between the two of you, her innocent face reflecting a nervous unease that she canât fully understandâbut you do.
Fuck it. Enough is enough. You can't let this continue any longerâscrew the elevator.
With a determined breath, you scoop Haru into your arms, feeling her trembling slightly against you. "Come on, sweetie," you say softly.
Her tiny heart beats against your chest, mirroring your own anxiety. Holding her close, you immediately head towards the stairway, your stride quickening.
But Naoya's presence lingers, his footsteps echoing ominously after you.
âReally, Naoya?â
Oh, this is it. Your patience is wearing thinâheâs like a growth you canât get rid of.
You feel Haruâs grip tighten around your neck as she buries her face into your shoulder. You have been trying desperately not to yell, for Haruâs sake, but at this point, Naoya is overstepping your boundaries.
âJust go away. The only thing I need from you is to hurry up and finish that damn DNA test,â you shout, refusing to look back as you head towards the stairs. âThere was no reason for that bullshit; you know Haru is yours. I know youâre just trying to stall our court date,â you snap, your voice trembling with frustration and anger.
Naoyaâs eyes gleam with a cold amusement, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a mocking smile.
"Stalling? Hardly. Youâre insane, I just want to be thorough. You should understand that, being so meticulous yourself," he sneers, tone derisively sweet.
Finally, you reach the stairwayâbeginning your descent, Haru clings tightly to you as Pikachu dangles precariously from each hurried step.
"This conversation is over, Naoya,â your voice echoes in the narrow space. âStay out of our lives. I only want to see you in court."
Naoya contemplates following you, lowering himself a few steps before abruptly stopping. As his voice reverberates through the stairwell, his unsettling demand bounces off the cold concrete walls, chilling you to your core.
"For now, y/n. But remember, this isnât over. Not by a long shot. You always come crawling back to me one way or another. Youâre incapable of anything without me."
There was a time when you believed those words, but you will not fall back into that same vicious cycle.
Choosing not to respond, your resolve is sharpened with one clear goal, getting Haru and yourself out of this building as quickly as possible.
The moment you clear through the lobby door, a shaky sigh escapes your lips. This day is already starting off with a bangâhopefully it goes much better at Satoruâs.
Forcing a smile for your frightened daughter, you try to mask the tears welling up in your eyesâthe tremor in your voice quaking.
âCome on honey, letâs go meet Mr. Gojo.â
Time to get this marriage finalized.
êšïž
You had expectations of what Satoruâs house would be like, but even those couldnât hold a light to the real thingâitâs a stark contrast to the modest apartment you call home.
The meticulously manicured lawn, the pristine arcadian, and the large, ornate door all showcase opulence.
Itâs far more luxurious than you had imagined, making you feel distinctly out of place as you step out of your car in your worn jeans and t-shirt, hair pulled up in a lazy bun.
WaitâŠshould you have come dressed businesslike?
But you have Haruâwas this supposed to be a professional meeting? Fuck.
On top of everything else, youâre already a few minutes late. Tardiness has become a tiresome trend in your life, one that exhausts you to your very core.
Traversing the entryway, Haru grips your hand tightly as you walk through the stone pathway. Her fingers tremble slightly, perhaps from the unsettling encounter with Naoya, or perhaps from the overwhelming new environment.
Nerves simmer through you once you approach the doorway, but you resolve to mask them. You werenât going to let Naoya ruin your dayâthis meeting is your chance to retake control of your life.
As you reach out and press the doorbell, a soft melodic chime resonates, echoing through the spacious foyer beyond.
Within moments, the door swings open, revealing Satoru.
You immediately feel a sense of relief as you observe him dressed surprisingly casualâa fitted blue t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and lean frame, paired with dark jeans that hug his long legs. His snowy hair remains tousled in that effortlessly stylish way, framing his strikingly handsome face.
Itâs impossible to advert your eyes as he greets you with that familiarly confident smile curling upon his lips, and those vivid blue eyes, enchanting you with an intriguing glint.
âHm, late again, I see,â Satoru teases, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if wounded with an exaggerated sigh. âI was starting to worry you wouldnât show up. Here I was, thinking you might divorce me before we even get marriedââ he stops, lifting his brow as his gaze shifts to the small figure peeking out from behind your legs.
âWell, well, and who is this?â
Haruâs wide eyes are filled with curiosity and apprehension. She peeps out nervously, clutching her plushieâs worn, familiar fabric for comfort.
Satoruâs smile softens as he looks at the little girl, but a twinge of uncertainty tugs at him internally. Children were a mystery to him, their emotions and reactions unpredictable.
What should he say? How should he act?
A flicker of fear crosses his mindâwhat if he says the wrong thing and makes her cry?
Oh GodâŠ
The thought of dealing with a child's tears makes him feel out of his depth, a sensation heâs not accustomed to. Satoru finds himself in unfamiliar territory. Heâs used to commanding rooms and negotiating high-stake deals, not interacting with shy children clutching stuffed toys.
But faking confidence has always worked in the business world, and he is determined to make a good impression now.
As you notice Haruâs uncertainty, you gently caress her head, delicately coaxing her out from behind your legs.
"Itâs okay, sweetie. This is Mr. Gojo, can you say hi?"
There is an air about youâthe gentle ease in your voice, the way you instinctively know how to comfort Haru. It stirs something within Satoru, something he canât quite place.
All he knows it that now he really doesnât want to fuck this up.
"Iâm really sorry for bringing her along," you begin, tone earnest as you meet Satoru with an apologetic gaze. "I hope itâs okay. I just didnât have anyone who could watch her today. But sheâll keep to herself during our meeting, I promise."
Satoruâs expression softens further as he looks at Haru, his uncertainty momentarily forgotten. She is so fragile, so docile. In her delicate features, he sees an uncanny resemblance to youâa small reflection of your strength and vulnerability intertwined.
âOh, itâs no problem at all,â he reassures softly. Crouching down to her level, his toothy smile is warm and inviting. âHi there, Iâm Satoru. Whatâs your name?â
Haru looks up at you for reassurance, her small hand tightening around your leg. Encouraged by your nod, she turns back to Satoru and whispers tentativelyâ
âHaru.â
Satoru grins, captivated by the softness and delicacy of Haru's voice. Though he is uncertain how to connect with a child. His mind racesâ
What do kids like?
What should he say next?
While his thoughts scramble, a spark of an idea forms the moment he observes Haru clutching Pikachu.
âNice to meet you, Haru. Do you like PokĂ©mon?â
Haru nods, her grip on the plushie relaxing slightly. There is a subtle warmth behind the apprehension in her eyes as she holds up her Pikachu toy to show Satoru.
âYes, Pikachu.â
âPikachu is pretty cool,â he lets out a contemplative hum as he tries to find common ground. A faint nostalgic smile plays on his features. âBut you know, Digimon is even better. Have you ever heard of Agumon?â
Haruâs eyes widen with curiosity as she shakes her head, her interest clearly piqued.
Satoruâs inner child shines throughâeyes sparkling with a genuine enthusiasm as his lips curl up into a grin. This is his chance to bridge the gap between them.
âTell ya what, maybe we can watch some Digimon together sometime. Howâs that sound?â
You feel Haruâs grip loosen on your leg. A faint smile touches her lips and a quiet giggle escapes as her initial shyness begins to slowly fade.
âOkay.â
There are many thoughts that come to your mind as you watch this interaction play outâthe foremost being how unexpectedly gentle Satoru can be with kids. Something about him, that overconfident and sometimes arrogant man youâve worked beside, feels different now. Almost likable.
Charming, even
But what you really canât fathom the most is the image of a sophisticated billionaire engrossed in a kidsâ cartoon. That concept alone is enough to make you suppress a laugh.
âYouâre a fan of Digimon?â you raise an eyebrow.
Satoru stands up, brushing off his knees with a nonchalant shrug and a crooked smile.
âI used to watch it all the time growing up. Please, come in,â he ushers you inside the building, leading you down the grand hall.
Your breath hitches at the sight of the expansive foyer. The high ceiling, polished marble floors, and impressive chandelier casting a warm glow leave you speechless.
Following behind him, you find yourself studying Satoruâs confident stridesâthe movement of his back, his broad shoulders and the effortless air of authority he exudes. Itâs a stark contrast to what you just witnessed moments ago with Haru.
But that alone makes him even more intriguing to you. Satoru can feel a bit like a wild card. Glimpses of tenderness hidden behind feigned aloofnessâsubtle playfulness followed by an exacting seriousness.
He keeps surprising you.
âI wouldnât have pegged you for a Digimon fan,â you remark as you follow behind him.
Satoru chuckles, scratching the back of his head.
âGuilty as charged.â
You canât help but notice the way he avoids your gazeâis he perhaps being⊠bashful?
Oh, this is rich.
You really would need an abundance of limbs to count on your hands the amount of times Satoru has given you shitâmaking your life a daily torture is his specialty after all. Perhaps that is why you couldnât resist letting this opportunity pass up.
âNext thing youâll tell me is that you have a secret stash of Digimon cards somewhere,â you snort.
Satoru lets out a contemplative hum.
âWell, I did have a pretty impressive collection back in the day. Who knows, maybe I still have them tucked away in a drawer somewhere.â
âSeriously?â you are unable to hide the amusement in your voice. âYou, with a collection of Digimon cards? Thatâs something Iâd pay to see.â
He rolls his eyes with a pout tugging on his lips.
âYouâre enjoying this too much. Maybe Iâll dig them out for you one day. But only if youâre nice.â
You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.
âMe, nice to you? Thatâs a tall order.â
A faint chuckle leaves Satoruâs lips as the spacious foyer transitions into a grand hallway. Haru skips beside you, glancing up at Satoru with a newfound admiration.
The moment you reach a large set of intricately carved wooden doors, he pauses, turning to you with a reassuring smile before pushing them open.
Inside, a cozy yet sophisticated study awaitsâshelves lined with books and a large mahogany desk dominating the room.
âYo, Suguru,â he waves flippantly, âthis is y/n and her daughter, Haru.â
Your eyes are met with a man seated behind the deskâa calm and composed air about him. He is strikingly beautiful, raven hair tied back into a bun with louse tousles framing his face. As he looks up from a stack of papers, his sharp yet gentle eyes focus on you and Haru. He rises, extending a hand with a polite smile.
âPleasure to meet you both. Iâm Suguru Geto.â
âNice to meet you as well,â you shake his hand with a subtle nod.
The presence of another stranger causes Haruâs shyness to return as she hides behind your legs againâyou kneel down, smoothing her hair gently.
âHaru,â you pull out a small bag of her favorite toys from your duffle bag, âwhy donât you take a seat over there and play with your toys while Mommy talks with Mr. Gojo and Mr. Geto?â
With a light nod, Haru takes the bag and settles into a comfortable armchair in the corner of the roomâspreading out her treasures with a look of concentration.
You take a seat across from Suguru, with Satoru sinking into the chair beside youâposture relaxed and seemingly indifferent.
âAlright, letâs get down to business,â Suguru leans forward, âIâve drafted the marriage contract based on the discussions Iâve had with Satoru. Iâll walk you through the main points.â
Referencing the document upon the desk, he begins.
âFirstly, as you both know, the purpose of this marriage is strictly business-related with no romantic implications. Both parties agree to maintain the appearance of a committed relationship in public and professional settings.â
Okay, easyâright?
You nod, but in the corner of your eye you can see Satoru lounging back in his chair. The mild disinterest on his face and the nonchalant way he twirls a pen between his fingers makes you grit your teeth.
He carries a casual attitudeâone you shouldnât be surprised with at this point because itâs the same infuriating aura he brings to every business meeting. But in this case, itâs a stark contrast to the gravity of this conversation. Here you are, discussing marriage and heâs sitting here as if youâre determining what to eat for lunch.
Yup, nothingâs changed. He still aggravates the hell out of you.
âNext, the duration of the marriage is set for one year, starting from the date of signing,â Suguru continues. âThere are provisions for extending or terminating the marriage early, should both parties agree.â
You absorb every word as you listen intently, but Satoru seems to be in his own world. It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes as you catch him leaning back further into his chair, now balancing it on two legs. He taps his pen against his lip thoughtfullyâan indifferent expression plastered across his face.
Is he even listening?
Here you are, about to commit to a fake marriage for the sake of your job and your daughter, and Satoru looks like a bored child.
You shoot him a sideways glance, silently willing him to take this more seriously, but the moment he catches your eye he simply offers a lazy wink, making your blood boil even more.
Suguru, unfazed by Satoru's demeanor, continues outlining the contract.
âThe financial arrangements are nextâŠSatoru will include a monthly allowance to you, y/n, to cover personal and household expenses. Both parties will maintain separate bank accounts, and any joint financial decisions require mutual consent.â
You blink in surprise. A monthly allowance?
Though you had asked Satoru to cover child care, you werenât expecting this level of financial support. Isnât that a bit excessive?
âWait, what?â you blurt out, unable to hide your astonishment. âA monthly allowance? For personal and household expenses?â
Satoruâs chair drops back onto all four legs with a soft thud as he leans forward, finally showing a hint of interest. He raises an eyebrow at your reaction, a lazy smile curling his lips.
âWe wouldnât want you or Haru to struggle, now, would we?â
His words sound almost considerate, but itâs the casual way he says them that makes you question his sincerity.
âSome might see you being my secretary as a conflict of interest now. Youâll still work beside me, but I canât give you a formal salary for that role. Doing it this way ensures that all you have to worry about is playing your part. Besides,â he adds, a hint of amusement creeping back into his voice, âwhat kind of husband would I be if I didnât support my wife?â
Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a wary look, trying to gauge his true intentions. It makes sense⊠but is he mocking you, or is this his way of showing genuine concern? With Satoru, itâs always hard to tell.
Suguru clears his throat, drawing your attention back to the contract.
âMoving on to the living arrangements, you will both reside in the marital home here.â
Satoru interrupts, tone almost too nonchalant as he leans back in his chair and lazily stretches, âIâve already arranged for a moving company to pack your things in a few days. Theyâll handle everything.â
You blink, the suddenness of it all sinking in.
âHuh?â
âProblem, sweetheart?â
âI... I didnât realize Iâd be moving in so⊠soon. What about my apartment? I have a lease, and breaking it will incur a penalty.â
He waves off your concern with a dismissive hand, leaning back further with hands casually behind his head.
âIâll pay it. Consider it handled. No point in you staying there when youâre supposed to be living here.â
Your eyes widen, taken aback by his insouciant dismissal of what, to you, is a significant expense.
âYouâre sure?â
âOf course. We need to make this look legitimate, and that means living together. Consider it part of the arrangement.â
To him, solving problems with money seamed effortless.
To you, this isnât just a contract; itâs a complete upheaval of your life.
Youâre starting to really feel the difference in your two worlds.
The abruptness is a bit overwhelming, and yet, Satoru seems to handle it with the same ease he applies to all his business dealings.
Itâs a bit unnerving. Itâs not that you arenât grateful, but you canât help but wonderâŠdoes he pity you? See you as a charity act?
Suguru, sensing your hesitation, interjects your thoughts with a soothing tone,
âItâs important for appearances that you both share a residence. It solidifies the arrangement in the eyes of your colleagues and the public.â
You take a deep breath, nodding again. âRight, I understand.â
Suguru nods, making a note on the document.
âGood. Now, letâs move on to the responsibilities and obligations. Youâre both expected to attend public and social functions, maintaining the faïżœïżœade of a loving marriage.â
Satoru who still remains leaned in his chair, now has his head tilted back, looking up towards the ceiling.
"Oh, and by the way," he begins, eyes flicking to you while his posture remains unmoved, "we'll be getting married at the courthouse tomorrow to make things official on paper. Our public ceremony will be a grand affair, but it will come later to keep the media satisfied and appease everyone."
Tomorrow?
You give a hesitant nod, absorbing the rapid pace at which your life is changing.
âAlrightâŠtomorrow.â
Suguru flips to the next page, âIn terms of termination, either party can initiate it with a 30-day notice. Grounds for early termination include breach of contract or mutual consent. Upon termination, Satoru will provide a one-time settlement payment to you, y/n.â
You blink as Suguru pushes the contract towards you, the settlement amount highlighted in bold. Did Satoru add a few extra zeros by mistake? That number canât be correct, right?
You glance up at Satoru, who is now inspecting his nails with a look of utter boredom.
âIs thisâŠcorrect?â you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
Satoru looks up, meeting your eyes with a casual shrug.
âYeah, itâs correct. Consider it a thank you for playing along.â
You shake your head slightly, trying to wrap your mind around the figure. This settlement could change your life, secure Haruâs future, and give you the stability youâve been desperately seeking.
You could pay off your medical bills for the childbirth, could go back to school. Hell, you could be free of Naoya, you wouldnât need him or his money.
You narrow your eyes, suspicious of his sudden generosity.
"And whatâs the catch?â
Satoru chuckles, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand.
"Come on now, sweetheart. Just think of it as me taking care of my...business partner."
Suguru clears his throat, glancing between the two of you.
âWell, there is one additional detail, y/n. The settlement is contingent on maintaining a favorable public image. Any actions or behaviors that damage Satoruâs reputation would result in the forfeiture of all financial support and settlement funds.â
You blink, the implications dawning on you. Ah, of course there would be a conditionâyou knew better than to think he was just being generous.
âSo⊠Iâm responsible for upholding your image? What does that even mean?â
Satoruâs crooked grin widens.
âIt means no scandals, no controversies. You play the part of the perfect spouse, attend events, smile for the cameras, and keep any...personal indiscretions out of the spotlight. Simple enough, right?â
Your stomach churns as you realize the depth of his controlâyou thought you were escaping Naoyaâs grasp, but it seems control is still a prevalent force in your life.
This isnât just a marriage of convenience; itâs a binding agreement that keeps you in line with his public persona, ensuring that any slip-up on your part will have dire financial consequences.
A part of you canât blame him, though. It makes sense for him to take extra precautions. The Gojos have always been in the public eye, and there have been countless rumors about Satoru's refusal to settle down.
âWhat if something happens thatâs out of my control? What if someone tries to smear my name?â
Satoruâs eyes harden slightly, though his smile remains.
âWeâll handle that on a case-by-case basis. But letâs just say I have ways of managing the media. You just need to play your part, nothing more.â
The calculated control in his tone, juxtaposed with his unwavering smile, makes your skin prickle with unease. The room feels suddenly colder, and a knot tightens in your stomach. You thought you were stepping into a partnership, but now it feels like a performance where one wrong move could cost you dearly.
Suguru interjects, his tone professional.
âThis clause is essential for protecting both your interests and Satoruâs. Maintaining a positive public image is crucial for the success of this arrangement and for avoiding any complications that could arise from negative publicity.â
You take a deep breathâthis was a gamble. The settlement would secure Haruâs future, your future, but your every move would be scrutinized, and any misstep could strip away the stability you desperately needed.
Your eyes wander to Haru, quietly and innocently playing with her toys. For her sake, you were willing to play Satoruâs game, even if it meant living under the constant pressure of his expectations.
âAlright,â you say firmly. âI agree to the terms.â
Satoruâs eyes flicker with satisfaction and Suguru leans forward sliding a pen towards you both.
âGood. If you both agree to these terms, we can proceed with the signing.â
You observe Satoru as he reaches for the penâhe is back to that usual air of nonchalance; it is almost unsettling. He signs the document with a flourish, barely glancing at the terms, and you envy his composure.
When he hands you the pen, meeting your eyes with a confident smile, you hesitate for a secondâthen, with a determined snatch, you take the pen from his delicate hand.
Holding your breath, you press the pen to paper and sign your name in one fell swoop. Each stroke of the pen feels heavy, final, but also strangely empowering.
No turning back now.
êšïž
The courthouse ceremony was as brief and impersonal as you expected.
Something about Haru witnessing you legally enter into a fake marriage just didnât feel rightâso you opted to leave her with Satoruâs nanny.
Standing in front of the judge, reciting vows, and signing the official documents felt more like a business transaction than a wedding.
Glancing at Satoru, you couldn't help but feel a bit solemn as you observed him, his expression as indifferent as ever.
This wasn't the fairy tale wedding you once dreamed of. There was no crowd, no rings, no romantic gesturesâjust a legal agreement with a pen on paper, binding you to him for the next year.
But then again, you knew that coming into thisâit was never about romance or dreams; it was about survival and securing a future for Haru.
It was over as quickly as it beganâjust like that, the judge declared you husband and wife, immediately leaving you alone with Satoru right after.
Noticing your serious expression, Satoru leans in slightly as you gather the official documents.
"You look like you're attending a funeral, not a wedding Mrs. Gojo," his voice drips with playful mockery.
Hearing him call you âMrs. Gojoâ sends a shiver down your spine. That was going to take some getting used to.
âAnd you look like youâre at a board meeting, not your wedding, Mr. Gojo,â you retort, unable to hide the underlying bite in your voice as your fingers shuffle through the pages.
A deep chuckle reverberates through the otherwise solemn atmosphere. Once you tuck the documents under your arm, you begin to make your way towards the exit. Satoru immediately falls into step beside you.
âTouchĂ©. But really, lighten up sweetheart. Gonna need to work harder to convince everyone youâre head over heels in love with me,â thereâs a playful challenge in his voice.
Rolling your eyes, you couldnât help but let out a dry laugh.
âWell, forgive me for not swooning over this magical moment. You know, this isn't exactly how I pictured my wedding day," you mutter, trying to mask the internal melancholy whirling within you.
When you reach for the door, Satoru beats you to it, holding it open with a flourish.
"Oh? And how did you picture it?â he raises an eyebrow as his eyes gleam in amusement, âLet me guess, lots of flowers, a big white dress, and some poor guy professing his undying love for you?"
Okay, screw him. He was really not making this any better. You feel the heat rise to your face as a scoff escapes your lipsâthe only response you will give him.
Brushing past him, your heels click against the polished floors through the marble halls of the courthouse. As you glance to the tall, ornate windows lining the corridor, the sunlight streams through, casting intricate patterns.
âHmm, think I guessed right,â he chuckles as he saunters after you.
âAnd what if you did?â you snap, voice echoing in the grand space. âIs it so weird for me to want a normal family for my daughter?â
The teasing glint in his eyes dim as his expression softens slightly. Once you reach the elevator, Satoru presses the buttonâthe two of you wait in an awkward silence.
The moment the elevator door slides open, you both step inside, the quiet hum of the machinery enveloping you.
âNo, itâs not weird. Itâs just... different from what Iâve ever thought about,â he says while he presses the button to the lobby.
You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the back of the elevator.
âWhat, Mr. Perfect never thought about settling down?â
Satoru's gaze drifts for a moment as he considers your question. The elevator begins its descent, the soft whirl filling the silence.
âHonestly? No, I never did. My father used to pressure me about it all the time. Wanted me to marry someone who could... 'enhance' our familyâs status.â He was contemplative, and the echoes of old frustrations are clear in his voice.
You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden openness.
The rumors about Satoru had always painted him as a carefree bachelor, uninterested in the constraints of marriage.
Some said he was too focused on his career, while others whispered that he enjoyed his freedom too much to settle down. There were even speculations that he had a hidden lover, or perhaps he was waiting for the perfect match to come along, someone who could stand by his side both in business and in life.
ââŠand you never found anyone who fit the bill?â
He chuckles, a hint of bitterness in his voice.
âPlenty of candidates. None that I wanted to spend my life with. Plus, all those âsuitable matchesâ were just women trying to get their hands on the Gojo fortune. Most people just see the money and power. They don't see the person behind it.â
The vulnerability in his eyes is fleeting, and you realize that his fatherâs expectations must have weighed heavily on him. The pressure to find someone was not about love or companionshipâit was about maintaining an image, a legacy. In a way, you both have been victims to control your entire lives.
As the depth of his frustrations become more apparent, you feel a pang of sympathy. Itâs enough to make you wonder about the real Satoru. The elevator continues its descent, and you find yourself lingering on his words.
âThat sounds... difficult. So why did you go through with this then? With me?â
His gaze softens; his expression thoughtful as he watches the numbers descending the floor levels. He tilts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.
âBecause youâre different. You didnât come to me looking for wealth or status. You needed help, and I needed a solution. Itâs honest, in a way. No hidden agendas, no false pretenses.â
A nervous flutter dances in your stomach, your fingers fidgeting with the folder of documents in your hands. The softness in his words catch you off guard, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact.
A small, rueful smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
âIn a world where everyone wants something from me, I find your straightforwardness refreshing.â
Your heart skips as a warm blush creeps up your cheeks.
âI never thought youâd see it that way. I just... I wanted to do what was best for Haru.â
âAnd thatâs what makes you different,â he replies softly. âYouâre doing this for her, not for yourself. Thatâs why I agreed to this. Because I believe youâre sincere.â
The elevator chimes softly as it reaches the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal the bustling courthouse lobby.
The weight of the conversation settles between you, a rare moment of vulnerability that made you see Satoru in a new lightâa glimpse into his inner world.
The moment you near the courthouse door, you and Satoru push it open in an attempt to exit, but are immediately greeted by a barrage of flashing cameras and shouted questions. Paparazzi swarm around you, seeming to have materialized out of nowhereâhow did they even know where to find you both?
Satoru, ever the master of public appearances, wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. His touch is warm and firm, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart through his suit.
The sensation of his hand resting securely on your hip sends a tingle through your body, a fluttering in your stomachâyou realize now that this is the first time he has touched you.
âSmile for the cameras, Mrs. Gojo,â he whispers into your ear, breath tickling your skin.
You blink, heat rising to your face as youâre momentarily caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. But you quickly compose yourself, remembering the role you have to play.
Leaning into him slightly, you offer a shy smile to the cameras. The flashes intensify and the questions grow louder.
âMr. Gojo why are you in a courthouse?â
âMr. Gojo, what is the status of Gojo Corporation?â
âWho is this woman Mr. Gojo?â
âWhat is your statement on your fatherâs passing?â
As the paparazzi continue to snap photos and shout questions, Satoru leans down and presses a quick, gentle kiss to your temple. His lips were soft, and the warmth of his breath burned your skin. The gesture, though small, sends a shiver down your spine.
It was all for show, you reminded yourself. Just part of the act.
Yet, the unexpected intimacy lingered, making it hard to ignore the way your heart raced at his touch.
Satoruâs kiss had worked perfectly, fueling the media frenzy. The paparazzi went wild at the tender actionâcamera flashes intensifying and voices growing louder. They call out more questions, desperate to capture every angle of the seemingly affectionate moment. You feel the eyes of the crowd boring into you.
âLetâs get out of here,â Satoru murmurs, voice low and soothing amidst the chaos.
He reaches out, hand warm and firm as he interlocks his fingers with yours, gently guiding you through the throng of reporters towards the waiting car. His other arm subtly shields you from the crowd.
As you finally break free from the mass of flashing cameras and shouting voices, you slide into the car, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as Satoru slides beside you immediately after.
Glancing back at the courthouse, the reality of your new life begins to sink in. Once the car pulls away, a breath escapes youâone you didnât realize you had been holding in.
âThat was... intense.â
Satoru chuckles, arm resting behind your shoulder. He tilts his head slightly, allowing a few tousles of white hair to fall into his eyes. Through the soft strands, his gaze meets yours, a mix of amusement and seriousness dancing in his striking blue eyes.
âWelcome to my world," he murmurs. "Better get used to it, sweetheart. This is just the beginning.â
êšïž
The following day, a moving company arrived at your apartment as promisedâthey packed up your belongings with swift efficiency, leaving you feeling like a spectator in your own life.
Watching your life be boxed up and loaded into trucks was bittersweetâas your small apartment, with its familiar creaks and cracks, had been your safe haven.
Everything was arranged, down to the smallest detail. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself standing in the grand foyer of Satoruâs mansion once again, this time with all your worldly possessions.
Haru, wide-eyed and excited, clung to your side, her tiny fingers wrapped around your hand.
"Welcome to your new home," Satoru says with a grin.
It felt more like stepping into a palace than a home.
He reaches down and grabs one of your suitcases, lifting it effortlessly,
"Let me show you to our room."
You feel your face heat up instantly.
"Our room?" you stammer. "Why would we need to share a room when no one is here to watch this charade?"
Satoru's grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
"Relax, I'm just teasing you. You have your own room. I just wanted to see your reaction."
You shoot him a glare, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance.
âYou're impossible," you mutter, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.
He chuckles, leading you up the grand staircase, and Haru follows closely, her eyes darting around in awe at the luxurious decor. The polished marble steps feel cool underneath you, and the ornate banisters gleam under the soft lighting.
"Come on, let me show you around." Satoru says as he leads the way down a long corridor.
The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and framed artwork, each piece more exquisite than the last.
Eventually, Satoru stops in front of a set of double doors, turning to you with a small, satisfied smile.
"Here we are."
He pushes them open to reveal a spacious bedroom. The room beautifully furnished, with a large bed, elegant drapes, and a balcony overlooking the manicured gardens below.
"This is your room," he announces, setting your suitcase down gently.
"Wow," you breathe.
It feels a bit overwhelming the moment you step foot inside. Haru, on the other hand, darts past you, exploring every nook and cranny with a delighted giggle. It was easily twice the size of your old apartment.
"This is beautiful... and a lot."
Satoru leans against the doorframe, arms casually crossing over his chest.
The soft light from the chandelier above casts a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His white hair, tousled just enough to seem effortlessly stylish, frames his face perfectly.
"Only the best for my... business partner," he says, tone light yet carrying a hint of something deeper.
You offer a simple, "Thanks," but your voice is softer than you intended. Your eyes betray you, lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary.
Satoru's eyes hold yours with a softness that catches you off guardâa striking shade of blue that seems almost ethereal. In that moment, you couldn't help but notice the intensity and warmth in his gaze, itâs almost tender, making you feel like anything but just a âbusiness partnerâ.
Was he always this beautiful?
You canât help but wonder, feeling a warmth spread through you as the silence stretches on. The moment feels strangely intimate, a connection forming that neither of you expected.
Crap. What are you thinking?
Haruâs giggle breaks the spell as she jumps on your bed.
"Oh, and just so you know," he adds with a playful glint in his eye, "my room is right next door. We share the bathroom, so try not to hog all the hot water."
You blink, surprised. "We have to share a bathroom?"
Curiosity getting the better of you, you open the bathroom door and peer inside.
It was equally impressive, with a large tub and walk-in shower, all in pristine condition. The fixtures gleam, and the marble countertop adds a touch of luxury. There was another door leading directly to Satoruâs room, a constant reminder of his proximity.
"Yep. Just think of it as our first test of marital bliss. Can we survive sharing a bathroom?" Satoru's voice was suddenly closer.
You turn to find him standing right behind you, having moved from his previous spot at the doorframe. The idea of sharing such a personal space with him was a bit unnerving. An awkwardly intimate setup for such a detached relationship, but you didn't have much of a choice.
"âŠI suppose I'll manage.â
Satoru laughs softly.
"That's the spirit. And don't worry, Haru's room is right across from us. She's got the best room in the house actually," he adds, tilting his head to the side as a cue for you to follow him.
Haru trails excitedly behind as you walk through the luxurious hallway, her giggles echo off the walls. Opening the door, you peek inside and are struck by the sheer extravagance of it.
The room was a childâs dreamâdecorated in soft pastel colors, with a canopy bed draped in delicate lace, plush toys neatly arranged on shelves, and even a small play area complete with a dollhouse and a set of building blocks. The walls were adorned with whimsical murals of fairies and woodland creatures, creating a magical atmosphere that seemed straight out of a storybook.
Haru's delighted squeals bring a smile to your face, easing the last of your worries.
It was clear that Satoru had spared no expense in making her feel welcome. Each detail spoke of thoughtfulness and care, from the cozy reading nook to the vibrant rainbow-colored rug that added a playful touch to the room. How on earth did he pull all this off so quickly?
âWow, look, Mama!â she exclaims, her eyes lighting up with joy, running inside to inspect her new haven.
A sense of relief washes over you as a tender smile forms upon your lips. At least Haru would be happy here. The sight of her so animated and cheerful makes the transition a bit easier to bear. Satoru stands beside you.
âI wanted her to feel at home," he says softly, eyes reflecting a rare sincerity.
âYou've done more than that. She's ecstatic," you reply, watching Haru dive into a pile of stuffed animals with a gleeful laugh.
Satoru clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, the gesture uncharacteristically awkward. He glances at the clock on the wall, as if searching for an excuse to end the moment.
"Well, I'll leave you to it," his tone is gentle and almost hesitant. "Let me know if you need anything. Dinner will be ready soon, see you down there?â
His usual confidence is somewhat mutedâyou wonder, is it you? Haru?
"Yeah,â you nod, âIâm going to put a few of my things away and then weâll meet you downstairs."
âRight. Take your time. There's no rush."
You canât help but replay the interaction in your mind as you unpack the essentials from your suitcase. The awkwardness between you and Satoru would pass, you hope. For now, it was enough to know that Haru is happy and safe.
Haruâs laughter echoes from her room, a sound that brings a smile to your face. She seemed to be adjusting much faster than expected, her innocent joy undiminished by the upheaval.
And to you, her laughter solidified itâmarrying Satoru, this was the right call.
êšïž
The past few days living with Satoru had been a whirlwind of adjustmentsâit wasnât without its challenges. The mansion, with its sprawling rooms and luxurious decor, is more like a museum than a home.
The sheer size makes you feel small and out of place at times, and the constant presence of staff make it difficult to find a moment of privacy.
Satoru, however, had been surprisingly considerate. Heâs a constant reminder of the delicate balance you need to maintainâattentive yet reserved, playful yet serious, a paradox that kept you on edge.
Your interactions with Satoru had settled into a routine of polite, if somewhat distant, cohabitation. There were moments of unexpected tenderness, like when he had found you struggling to open a jar in the kitchen and had stepped in to help with a playful grin.
Another time, you had been overwhelmed while trying to assemble a new toy for Haru, and Satoru had quietly taken a seat beside you, helping to figure out the instructions without a word.
Yet despite these moments, there was always an underlying tension, a reminder of the unusual circumstances that had brought you together.
As the days passed, the impending charity gala loomed larger in your mindâthe first public event you would attend together as a married couple.
Satoru had taken the time to sit down with you and discuss how you would present yourselves, a task that seemed daunting but necessary.
You agreed on the basics: stay close, exchange subtle touches, and share occasional whispers to create an air of intimacy. The plan was straightforward, but the execution would be another matter entirely.
He emphasized the importance of appearing united, offering tips on how to handle the media and the probing questions that were sure to come. His confidence and ease in handling the media was something you were learning to lean on, though the pressure of maintaining the charade weighed heavily on you.
âWhat about Haru?â you asked, concern evident in your voice.
âWeâll leave her out of the spotlight,â Satoru replied gently. âI donât want to overwhelm her. She takes no part in this agreement beyond being your daughter. Sheâll stay here with the nanny during the event.â
Amidst all this, your phone had been buzzing constantly with missed calls from Naoya. You hadn't answered any of themâmaybe you should just call off the court case?
You did just go through a life changing event, marriage, and that often interferes with the legal process anyways. The judge would need to take into consideration your new source of income for the child support payments.
Honestly, you donât need Naoyaâs support anymore.
Youâll take care of that after the gala thoughâright now you already have too much on your plate, spending hours with Satoru, fabricating shared experiences and finding common ground to make your relationship believable.
The task of memorizing details about his likes and dislikes, his habits, and his quirks was daunting, but you found yourself surprised at the small details you were beginning to remember about himâthe way he took his coffee, his favorite late-night snack, the way his eyes crinkled just slightly when he found something genuinely funny, or how he would absentmindedly run a hand through his tousled white hair when deep in thought.
As the days slipped by in a blur of preparations and rehearsed smiles, you couldnât shake the feeling that this carefully constructed façade was starting to take on a life of its own. Each shared glance and each moment of unexpected kindness blurred the lines between reality and pretense, leaving you wondering just how deep this charade would go.
êšïž
Standing in front of your bathroom mirror, you adjust the luxurious dress Satoru had picked out for you. A deep, elegant blue fabric clings to your curves in all the right places, and the V-shaped open back that rests above your hips adds a touch of allure.
Loose cascading waves frame your face perfectly, and the professional makeup artist gave you a look that is both subtle and glamorous, enhancing your features in a way the felt natural yet striking.
You barely recognize yourself.
The transformation was astonishing, turning you from a frazzled single mother into a vision of sophistication and grace.
Was it too much? You feel out of sorts, like youâre wearing someone else's skin. The elegant image in the mirror is both thrilling and unnerving.
As you try to steady your racing heart, a knock on the bathroom door makes you jump slightlyâSatoruâs door.
âY/n you ready?â his voice calls out.
With a deep breath, you take one last look in the mirror. As you open the door, Satoruâs frame leans casually against the entryway.
The sleek black tuxedo he is adorned in highlights his broad shoulder and lean frame. His white hair is perfectly styled, contrasting sharply with the dark fabric.
He meets you with a stunned silenceâeyes widening slightly as he takes you in. The cool blue of his irises seem more vibrant, gleaming with anticipation as they trace over your form.
You had never seen his eyes linger across your figure like this beforeâthe intensity of his gaze makes your stomach flutter. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you fear what will come out of his mouth.
Does he think itâs too much?
âWow,â he breathes, voice almost reverent. âYou look... stunning.â
A blush creeps up your cheeks at his unexpected compliment, and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze.
"Thank you," you say softly, smoothing down the fabric of your dress.
Satoru steps closer, eyes locked on you. He reaches out and gently lifts your chin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
âSeriously, you look amazing. I knew the dress would look good on you, but this... youâre going to be the star of the gala,â a slow smile spreads across his lips. âReady to knock them dead?â
You nod, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your stomach.
âAs ready as Iâll ever beâŠhopefully I can live up to the part.â
âYou will,â offering you his arm, he adds, âJust be yourself, and stay by my side, weâre in this together."
êšïž
The ride to the gala is filled with a comfortable silence.
The city lights blur outside the window as the car smoothly navigates through the streets. You find yourself stealing glances at Satoru, admiring the way his profile looks in the dim light.
Strange.
The usually insufferable man seemed different tonightâsteadfast, dependable, almost... comforting? Perhaps itâs the nerves.
His arm rests casually behind you, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, and youâre surprised yourself how it does not bother youâin fact, itâs actually quite soothing.
Once you arrive, the grand ballroom is a stunning sight. Chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow over the elegantly dressed crowd.
The room is filled with the cityâs eliteâa sea of luxurious gowns and tailored suits mingling and exchanging pleasantries. The sight of you and Satoru together was enough to turn heads, drawing curious and admiring glances.
But the sheer number of people, the pressure of playing your part, and the countless eyes watching your every moveâitâs all a bit overwhelming. You really felt out of place here.
Sensing your unease, Satoru leans in close, breath warm against your ear.
âRemember, just follow my lead.â
Guiding you with ease, his hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you voyage through the attendeesâthe warm gentle touch is electric against your bare skin.
Your eyes skim through the herd of people and land on a waiter balancing a tray of champagne glasses. Perhaps a drink would ease your nerves? You donât hesitate to grab a glass as you navigate the crowd.
Satoru, ever the socialite, seamlessly traverses the room, introducing you to important figures and engaging in small talk that you struggle to follow.
Discussions ranged from market trends and corporate mergers, to the latest charity galas and art exhibitions. Trying to keep up, you nod and smile at the appropriate moments.
Itâs clear that Satoru is in his elementâhis charm, effortless. You find yourself admiring how easy he makes it all look.
As you cling to him, the pride in his eyes when he looks at you makes you feel like you belong, even if you are just playing a part in this elaborate charade.
The evening flowed smoothly enough, with your glass of champagne acting as a steady companion. The warmth of the alcohol helps you mingle with guests, exchange polite conversations, and stay close to Satoru, all as planned. But each interaction was a delicate danceâyour smiles and nods masking the nerves simmering beneath the surface.
Honestly, your mind was elsewhereâthere is an undercurrent of anxiety as you anticipate Satoruâs announcement on stage, where he would publicly acknowledge your marriage during his donation speech.
When the moment you had been dreading finally arrives, you settle into a chair near the front, heart pounding in your chest.
Satoru takes the stage with a natural grace, and as the spotlight illuminates his striking figure, his presence commands the attention of everyone in the room.
âGood evening, ladies and gentlemen,â he begins, his voice resonating with a confident authority. âI want to thank you all for being here tonight. Your generosity and support make events like this possible.â
His words flow smoothly as he speaks eloquently about the cause and significance of the charity, each sentence perfectly crafted to engage and inspireâyou marveled at his ability to enthrall people.
Pressing your champagne glass to your lips, you desperately hope the cool liquid can help to steady your nerves a bit more.
Then, the moment came.
âI will be donating ten million dollars to this charity,â Satoru announces, his voice carrying a conviction.
The amount causes a ripple of excitement and murmurs to spread through the crowdâyou nearly choked on your champagne in shock.
Ten million?
You couldnât even fathom having that much money, let alone donating it. The magnitude of Satoruâs status is staggering.
A smile tugs at Satoruâs lipsâa genuine warmth mingling with the mischievous glint in his eyes. He pauses, letting the impact of his words settle, then lifts a finger to tap his chin contemplatively, as if he just remembered something.
âOr should I say, we will be donatingâme and my lovely wife.â
Satoru gestures in your direction as a spotlight beams upon you. The crowd erupts into an enthusiastic applause, causing your heart to race the moment all eyes instantly turn to you.
There is a rush of heat that rises to your cheeks, mixing with the warmth of the alcohol. The weight of the crowdâs gaze makes your vision a bit blurry.
Beckoning you to join him on stage, Satoru extends his hand and offers a comforting smile. Though, the moment you stand, the room spins slightlyâperhaps itâs from the champagne, or perhaps itâs the sheer pressure.
You canât fuck this up.
With as much grace as you can muster, you make your way to the platform.
Satoru wraps an arm around your waist the moment you are at his side, pulling you close and steadying your trembling figure. He looks down into your eyes with a genuine look of endearment.
âEveryone, please welcome my beautiful wife, y/n,â he says softly in the microphone, his voice filled with a gentle pride.
The applause swells, and you manage a smile, trying to focus on Satoru while ignoring the spotlightâs heat and the intense gazes of attendees.
Leaning in, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, âYouâre doing great.â
Despite the orchestrated nature of your relationship, in this moment, his genuine reassurance means everything. His presence is a steady anchor in the sea of faces and flashing cameras, the only thing holding you together right now.
When the applause dies down, Satoru continues his speech, the warmth of his hand remaining on your waist as his thumb traces soft circles.
You can barely focus on his words, the dizzying reality of where youâre standing feels both exhilarating and terrifying.
The moment Satoruâs speech concludes, the soft hum of conversation mingling and the delicate notes of the live orchestra begin to fill the air yet again. Satoru leads you off the stage, his hand never leaving your side.
Almost immediately after you descend to the floor, Satoru is approached by a business associate, his demeanor shifting effortlessly into that of a seasoned negotiator as they exchange discussions of market trends, potential collaborations, and strategic ventures.
Your heart is still poundingâpublic speaking was never your strong suit. Despite not needing to speak, being on that stage stirred something within you.
You recall a particularly disastrous presentation in college where you accidentally knocked over the projector, sending your notes flying across the room. The laughter from the audience still haunts you, and since then, youâve always dreaded being the center of attention.
With Satoru engrossed in conversation, you seize the opportunity to make your way to the barâseeking a moment of reprieve. Another drink wouldnât hurt, right?
The gleaming rows of crystal glasses and various bottles of wine and spirits catch your eye. You scan the selection, your gaze lingering on a particularly rich, deep red wine.
Deciding itâs exactly what you need to steady your nerves, you signal the bartender and opt for a glass of the robust vintage, savoring the thought of its smooth, calming flavor.
One glass turned into twoâyour nerves finally beginning to settle as the soothing effects of the alcohol take over your senses.
Realizing youâve been away from Satoru for quite some time, you prepare to rejoin himâbut just as you start to rise, a familiar, unwelcome voice interrupts your thoughts.
âWell, well, look who we have here,â Naoya sneers, leaning against the bar beside you, a glass of scotch swirling in his hand. âDidnât expect to see you here, mingling with the high society.â
A chill runs down your spine and you heart drops. No amount of alcohol could have prepared you for this moment.
âNaoya,â you stiffen, clutching your wine glass tighter. âWhat are you doing here?â
He takes a swig of his scotch, emptying the glass and placing it down on the counter with a loud clink. Leaning closer into your space, his eyes narrowâa cold, cynical stare boring into you.
âI could ask you the same thing. This doesnât seem like your usual scene. Whatâs your angle?â
Your breath quickens and you feel your pulse hammering in your chest. Adverting your gaze, your fingers brush against the rim of your wine glass.
âIâm sure you heard, Iâm here with my husband, if you must know. Not that itâs any of your business.â
The sneer he meets you with makes the room suddenly feel smaller, as if his presence is suffocating you.
âHusband, huh?â his eyes rake over you with contempt suspicion, âQuite the leap from where you were a few weeks ago. Is this some kind of game to you?â
Summoning your courage, you straighten your back and meet his gaze head-on.
âNot a game, Naoya. Itâs called moving on. You should try it sometime. My life is no longer any of your concern.â
Taking a step closer, he looms over youâhis voice lowering to a menacing whisper.
âI donât buy it. This whole charade⊠you think I donât know what youâre trying to pull?â
For a moment, you are frozen in place, the fear and control Naoya exerts paralyzing you. Your mind races, the implications of his words sinking in.
What if he exposes you?
What if this carefully constructed facade comes crashing down?
Before you can respond, you feel an arm slip around your waist, pulling you with practiced ease out of Naoyaâs bubble and right beside Satoru.
âThere you are, darling. Everything alright?â
His voice is smooth and warm, and his gaze flicks between you and Naoya, narrowing as he surveys the situation. The look on your face unsettles himâsomething feels off.
Naoya straightens himself, leaning against the bar with a supercilious smirk as he crosses his arms.
âJust catching up with an old friend. No harm in that, right?â
âI donât think weâve been properly introduced.â Satoruâs tone was light but laced with an underlying steel, âIâm y/nâs husband, Satoru Gojo.â
A scoff escapes Naoya as his eyes flash with irritation, but an unnerving smile remains upon his lips.
âYes, Iâve heard. You certainly move fast, donât you, y/n?â
Naoya can see right through youâyou fell a flash of panic. Turning to Satoru, your eyes meet his with a silent plea for support. His expression softens and he gives you a reassuring nod while tightening his grip upon your waist.
âWell, when you know, you know,â Satoru says with a charming smile, âand we knew.â
Naoya snickers, running his hand through his hair in disbelief.
âCome on y/n. How did someone like you end up with someone like him? Seems... unlikely. You donât belong here.â
Heat rises to your face and the sudden urge to shrink away overwhelms youâyour heart dropping at the sting of Naoyaâs words.
Suddenly, Satoru steps closer, creating a protective barrier between you and Naoyaâthe playful glint in his eyes gone, replaced with a cold, steely determination.
âWatch your mouth, you donât get to talk to my wife like that.â
âIâm just stating the obvious,â Naoya shrugs, meeting Satoruâs glare with an indifference as he shoves his hands in his pockets. âSheâs out of her league here.â
Satoruâs jaw tightens, his voice low and dangerously calm.
âIf you think sheâs out of her league, then you clearly donât know her at all. Youâre out of line. Y/n belongs here more than anyone. So, unless you have something worthwhile to say, I suggest you move along.â
âIs that so?â Naoya raises an eyebrow. âYouâll have to forgive me if Iâm a bit skeptical. After all, youâve always been a bit of a lone wolf, Satoru Gojo.â
Panic seizes you as Naoyaâs observation hangs in the air. The last thing you need is for him to start spreading rumors or causing trouble. You realize you have to do something, and fast. Your mind races, desperately searching for a way to convince Naoya of your authenticity.
Summoning all the courage you can muster, you step forward, threading your arms around Satoruâs neck as you rest your forehead against his own. Your words are addressed to Naoya, but your eyes remain on Satoru the entire time, drawing strength from his steady gaze and the warmth of his touch.
âSatoru and I... we chose each other for reasons that go beyond what you see. We may have our differences, but weâre stronger together, and we have a connection that you canât comprehend.â
Satoruâs eyes soften, reflecting a silent understanding and a shared resolveâhis breath mingling with yours.
Feeling Naoyaâs probing gaze, you know he wonât be easily convinced, and so, acting on impulse, you pull Satoru closer and crash your lips against his.
For a moment, Satoru seemed caught off guard. His eyes widened in surprise before they fluttered closed, his hands moving to rest on your hips. The world around you seemed to fade away as the kiss lingered, heat pooling in your stomach.
It was supposed to be a quick peck, just enough to sell the act. But the moment your lips met his, something shifted.
Perhaps you were emboldened by the alcohol, perhaps it was the need to be convincing, perhaps it was the way Satoru stood up for youâwithout thinking, you deepen the kiss, parting your lips and slipping your tongue into his mouth, making things more intimate than you originally intended.
You can feel Satoru tense for a moment, his surprise evident. But then, with a soft hum against your mouth he melts into the kiss, a hand moving to cup your face as he returns the intimacy with unexpected fervorâhis other hand encircling around your waist, pulling you closer against him.
Your fingers thread through Satoruâs hair and the world around you seems to fade awayâthe only thing that mattered now was the heat radiating off of Satoruâs body, the warmth of his lips against yours, and the lingering sweet taste of the galaâs chocolate cake mingling with the wine on your tongue.
It was a moment that felt both incredibly real and utterly surreal.
When you finally pull back, you are both breathless. As you catch a flicker of something unreadable in Satoruâs half lidded eyes, for a brief moment, you forget about Naoya completely, about the act, about everything except the electric connection between you both.
Satoru's thumb gently caresses your cheek, his gaze softening.
Pulling yourself back to reality, you peer over to Naoyaâhis smug expression had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise and irritation.
âAs you can see, weâre very happy together,â you say sweetly, rubbing your nose against Satoruâs.
"Didn't think you were the type to move on so quickly," Naoya sneers.
A wave of exhilaration and embarrassment course through you as Naoya retreats back into the crowd. The kiss had done its job, but it had also left you with a lingering sense of uncertainty. Satoruâs touch is still warm on your skinâyou can still taste him on your lips.
"You okay?" he asks softly, his concern genuine.
The question pulls you out of your thoughts, but his gaze does the oppositeâyour face flushes and it feels like your heart is going to pound out of your chest.
"Yeah. I... I just needed to convince him.."
Satoru studies you momentarilyâknowing there is more to the story with Naoya. But he also knows now isnât the time to pry.
He chuckles softly, his hand lingering on your waist.
âWell, I think you succeeded. That was... unexpected. You really went for it there,â he murmurs.
For a moment, it felt like you were playing a role, but the feelings stirring inside you were anything but fake.
"I'm sorry," you swallow hard, face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..."
âI didnât mind,â he interjects, thumb brushing against your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. âJust so you know, you did great. Better than I expected,â his voice low and husky.
Fuck.
You blinkâNaoya is gone, but here Satoru is, still holding you so intimately, so intently.
The way he looks at you, the warmth in his touch, the tone of his voiceâit makes you question the lines between reality and pretense.
âDidnât know you had it in you.â Satoru hums, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. He leans in, his breath dancing on your lips, tantalizingly close. âBut next time, letâs save the tongue for when weâre really alone, hm?â
What is he saying?
Your mind races, trying to decipher his words, his intentions. Was he still in character, or was there a hint of genuine desire in his eyes?
The electricity in the air was undeniable, and you find yourself lost in the intensity of his gazeâthe crowd around you fading, their murmurs and whispers becoming a distant hum.
Satoruâs eyes held secrets you were desperate to uncover.
As you struggle to formulate your thoughts, Satoruâs hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along you jaw.
"Relax," he murmurs, "We're just putting on a show, remember?"
You nod, though your heart betrays you with its rapid pace.
âRight,â you whisper, forcing a smile. âJust a show.â
But deep down, you canât shake the feeling that there was more to this act than either of you were willing to admit.
ahh i really enjoyed writing this chapter. okay, i was snickering at satoru's internal turmoil when he met haru for the first time. i couldn't resist with the digimon đ€ my daughter is currently obsessed with pikachu so that's where that inspiration came from lol. also, this kiss was one of my favs to write đ„° lemme know if you guys are interested in me making this a longer series. as always, thanks for reading đ«¶đ» â on to the next chapter êš
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Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 1: New Beginnings
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
This was going to be a little something, but I got carried away, anyway, enjoy.
Thinking about reader entering the elevator to find the whole 141 fully dressed and armed inside. đ
Warning: There is a little smut ahead â€ïž Gaz x Reader
âThere really is no need!â You exclaim, finally coming out of the paralyzed state you were in. Just as the door was about to close you managed to slip out, forcing the door to open again by detecting the movement. âI'll just go out the way I came in, no need to worry.âÂ
You try to make your way to the car, walking backwards so that you don't have to break eye contact with them since they are looking at you like you are an absolute lunatic. Maybe you are.Â
The only thing you can see of them is their eyes as they look at you, and then the three of them that are on the right turn to the one on the left. The one that spoke to you and to the radio.Â
He puts his hand on the door again, and slowly turns his head to the one closer to him. Then he nods in your direction and says only loud enough for them to hear: âGrab her.â
Not needing to hear anything, and trusting your guts, the second the man puts a foot down to begin walking your way, you bolt, running as fast as you can to your car.Â
Thanking whoever is listening that still has your keys in your hands, you unlock your car and as soon as you reach it, you open the driver's door and enter, closing it behind you.Â
Or trying to.Â
Before you can yourself in your car, a hand holds the door and pushes it back open. He tries to grab your arm so you move to the copilot seat, trying to move away knowing that there is no way out but still trying.Â
You push your back against the door, desperate to create space as the man starts to enter your car and you try to kick him away. âPlease let me leave! I don't know what's going on, I can't say anything if I don't know what's going on! Please!â
He doesn't respond with his voice but in his eyes, you see something similar to pity that makes you wonder what you must look like, glassy eyes with tears pricking at your eyes from fear, trying to move as away as possible from him in your minuscule car and trying to kick him away but with barely any strength too scared to actually hurt him and make it more difficult for you.Â
The door behind your back suddenly opens and before you can do anything, a pair of strong arms grab you by your torso keeping your arms close to your chest and unable to move them. âGotcha!â Says the voice behind you with a strong accent and almost fun in his voice, like he just won a tag game.Â
You trash around trying to get free, unable to even reach the ground, tears beginning to flow down your cheek. âPlease, please, I promise I won't say anything, ple-â A massive hand covers your mouth, silencing your pleas and forcing you to look at the third man that followed you to your card. Brown eyes look at you with furrowed eyes and say slowly, almost testing how stupid you are. âAre you going to make this easy for everyone, or do you just want to make it harder, angel?â
You nod your head, afraid to even try and speak. âYes? Yes, what? Are you going to behave? Good girl.â He says as you keep nodding and you see his eyes twirl the slightest with a smile. âCâmon, Johnny, bring her to the elevator.âÂ
The four of you make your way inside of the elevator when the first man who spoke to you remains holding the door shaking his head at you as you are dragged inside. âNow why would you try something like that, you silly girl?â He says taking something from his back pocket.
âMaybe she likes to be chased.â Says the man that you tried to kick before and you quickly shake your head still unable to talk earning a chuckle from him.
âWell, we can't have any more of that. Put her behind Kyle, Soap.â Says the first man, and you can finally see that what he picked from his pocket is a pair of cuffs and you begin to trash again. Futile, you know it, since the man behind you (Soap, you guess), holds your hands putting them around the manâs waist (Kyle was his name?) and you quickly feel the cuff go around your wrist keeping your plush against Kyle's back, the indents and trinkets of his backpack pressing against your face. âNow, no more tears, kid. You brought this upon yourself, so no more games.â He says looking at you poking his head from the other side of the man, but you can help it back to let the tears flow free. âAw, câmon, lass. Don't cry, yer be free in a bit. Look, Captain has the keys, we'll let you go soon, see? Right her- Shit!âÂ
The Scottish man behind you was saying, as he pointed and moved around you, and when he was about to point to the keys in his captain's hand, his eyes were not on the keys but instead on your face. So he didn't measure the distance and instead knocked the keys out of his captain's hand.Â
So now, the five of you look as the key falls, not to the floor, but straight to the small space under the elevator door just as it closes. Getting out of reach, and possibly never to be seen again.Â
âJohnny, you fucking twat!â
Maybe if you did some overtime today, if you came across one more red light on your way back, if you stayed in your car a couple of minutes more you wouldn't have found yourself in this situation.
But you didn't.
So here you are now, hiding your face on the back of some military man, crying out of absolute fear for your wellbeing, handcuffed so you can't run and hearing the four men on the elevator argue with each other.Â
Until an especially hard sob escapes your mouth making you bite your lips to silence yourself and everyone else to shut up.Â
A warm hand engulges yours, assuming that it is Kyle's trying to calm you down by drawing little circles on your hand. âIt's okay, luv. We have more keys, just not here. You just gotta stick with us for a little longer, and then you'll be back to your life, aâright?â
You hiccup as you try to stop crying, still biting your lips and out of reflex, you move your hand to grab one of his fingers, trying to ground you and get calmer.Â
You notice a hand going down your back making you jump and grab Kyle's finger harder before you hear someone shushing you. âWhen we get out there, I'm gonna need you to be quiet, alright? And move along with Sargent Garrick, careful with your feet⊠Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see your pretty face.âÂ
You slowly move your head to face him, you recognize the voice as the Captain's voice but you finally see his face as he has moved his mask and now you can see the lower part of his face, mainly covered still by his beard and moustache, but with a kind smile on his face. A soft sigh escapes his lips when he sees you and it makes you think about what you must look like.Â
Raw, plush and red lips from biting them, glossy eyes and wet cheeks flushed against the sergeantâs back; an absolute mess.
âPoor birdie, what have you gotten yourself into?â He says as he cups your head. âYou are going to be good, right? We are going to take care of you, so no need to be so afraid. Nothing bad is going to happen to you as long as you are with us. It is all going to be over soon, luv.â
He caresses your head once more, and when the elevator reaches your floor, he puts the mask back up. The four of them get the weapons in their hands and begin to beeline out of the elevator.
Kyle gives you one last squeeze to your hands before letting them go to grab his gun and walk out last of the elevator with you behind.Â
âBravo-6 to Watcher-1, we are on the 6th floor, moving to the objective apartment.â The captain says walking first.Â
âWatcher-1 to all, the apartment is the 608. Proceed with caution, we don't know how many are inside.â
âRoger that, are there any secondary entries, Watcher?â
âAny available on time, Bravo-6. Just the main door.â
âYou can jump from my terrace.â You whisper to Kyle who whips his head so fast when he hears you talk you are surprised he didn't get dizzy. âI live next door.â
âQuiet, birdie!â Kyle screams-whispers back, gaining the attention of the captain.Â
âWhat did she say?â Ask the captain back.
âShe said she lives next door to the objective, that we can jump from the terrace. Worth a look?â Kyle asks back.
âWhere do you have the keys?â A deep voice coming from the only man you don't know the name jet asks next to you, and you push your butt out.
âBack pocket.â You say looking at him.
âLucky Lt.â Soap mumbles somewhere close.
The unknown man gets his hand down your pocket and grabs your keys without unnecessarily lingering.Â
You tell them your apartment number and when they open you explain to them that it is in your bedroom, and they just need to jump over the half wall on the side.Â
âGhost and Soap go through the outside, Gaz you coming with me. Ghost, check how many people are inside and we will enter at the same time.â Captain orders and you decide that you have already heard enough.
You know bullets are about to fly everywhere and blood is about to run and you don't want neither to see nor to hear any of that.Â
So you hide your face on Kyle's back and grab his belt to steady yourself. You hear the Captain's voice shout something and after that, it is all chaos. You focus all of your senses on moving in tandem with Kyle, making sure not to get your feet on his way.Â
At some point, you feel a sharp pain a bit higher than your elbow, but you ignore it, way too terrified to check it.
It is all a blur of noise and movement, but finally, there is no more shooting and you can only hear an angry man shout.Â
You finally pop your head around Kyle to check who is screaming and you come across your neighbour, shouting at the captain until he sees you.
âYou! I knew you were a fucking spy, you fucking whore! You don't know who you just fuck with! You are dead, bitch! You heard me? DEAD!â
âDarling, he is not getting close to you.â Kyle tries to reassure you.
You are currently sitting on his lap, strangling his legs, still cuffed around him. You both are sitting on the back of the ambulance, as the paramedic takes care of the wound on your arm. Not that you care about it, becoming minuscule in your hierarchy of problems after receiving a death threat from a terrorist.Â
âYes, he is!â You argue back as you bawl your eyes out on his shoulder. âHe is and he is going to kill me! And I didn't do anything!âÂ
âHey, look at me, doll.â He says as he cups your face with his hands. âYou are with us, right? Nothing is gonna happen to you if you are with us. Nothing's gonna hurt you if you stick with us. Do you not trust me?â He asks, looking at you with almost puppy eyes, he follows your gaze when you look at the wound on your elbow and looks back to him as he changes his expression to look at you with a bright smile. âNo need to answer, doll.â
âHow's the damage?â Captain Price (as they told you) asks, walking closer to the both of you.Â
âNo damage to the bone, but the soft tissue will need some time to heal.â The paramedic says as he gives the last sutures and puts on the dressing. âAnd either she is a fighter, or she was busy crying about something else, but she didn't complain once.â
âAh, she's a fighter, that I know.â Price coos at you petting your head again and you feel yourself blush.
âDo you have the key for the cuffs, Captain?â You ask to change the subject and he smiles mischievously when he hears the way you call him.
âDon't call me that, sweet girl. I'm not your Captain, call me John, Price if you are not comfortable with firsts name.â He says and you nod letting him know you understand. âAnd I asked about the keys, but the master key is at the base. So guess you have to stick around with us for a bit more, sorry dear.â
You hide your face on Kyle's neck again sighing feeling your tears sting in your eyes. A sob escapes your lips and automatically both Price and Kyle are shushing and cooing at you.Â
âWhat's making you so upset, doll? Are you uncomfortable with the sergeant?â Price asks, rubbing your back and you shake your head. âThen what is it? Use your words, love, please.â
âI'm just exhausted⊠I just wanted to go to bed⊠I'm so tiredâŠâ You mumble against Kyle's skin provoking him goosebumps and a sight to leave his lips.
âLet's get going then, the earlier we get to base the earlier you get back home.â He pats Kyle on the other shoulder and he stands up, you in his arms, as if you were weightless to the taller man.
You don't comment on the fact that he holds you from your ass, itâs too comfortable being held and youâd rather take it than to test your legs and force yourself to walk.Â
Price opens the door to the minivan and Kyle sits with you on his lap. Price closes the door, circles the car and opens the door to sit on the other side. You look around quickly to see Ghost driving and Soap on the copilot seat.
After a couple of minutes of the drive, you notice Price slips a bit on his seat, just enough to rest his head on the headrest, and he puts his hat over his face to shield himself from the street lights as he crosses his arm to sleep for the rest of the drive.
And you envy him because you wish you could sleep too. If it wasn't because it seems like Ghost is catching every single curb and bump on the road, and every time he does, your and Kyleâs crotches rub each other making you both groan softly.
His hands find their way to your waist as you reposition yourself on his lap and he whispers to your ear. âYou gotta empty that pretty head of yours, luv. It'll help you relax.â
You notice the growing bulge pressing right to your cunt, and when Kyle begins to move your hips back and forth against it⊠you let him.Â
âSuch a sweet girl, hm?â He mumbles as he drops wet open mouth kisses on your neck. âPoor, poor birdie. Getting involved in such a nasty situation, because of somebody else's mistakes.â
Little sighs escape your lips as you grab his t-shirt trying to not make any noise, the captain still sleeping on just two seats to your left.
You should be embarrassed, ashamed of yourself, afraid of these men you just met, of doing such a nasty thing in front of three other men even if they haven't noticed jet.Â
But Kyle's hardening cock is still brushing against your cunt and it is making it really hard to focus on anything else.
Enjoying his freedom of movement, he undoes the first button of your work shirt, just to keep kissing your neck lower, grazing your collarbone.
His fingertips grab your hips harder, making it easier to move against him.Â
âHelping us so much, letting us enter your house, your bedroom, taking the bullet like a champ. The trainees could learn from you. Moving so in sync with me, I didn't step on you even once. But you like moving with me don't you, sweet girl, hm?â He asks against your ear, making you shudder as you keep moving against them.
You can feel your panties get soaked with your arousal, the mix of Kyle's praises being whispered to your skin, his hard cock throbbing again and again against you, your ego inflating because of it, knowing you are affecting him just as he is affecting you, his warm hands on your waist.
âTake what you need, sweet girl. Take it, luv.â He mumbles letting his head rest on the seat headrest as his hand moves down to your ass impulsing you.
You can feel your climax coming closer and closer every second passing, but then Kyle moves you slightly back and the pressure moves to your clothed clit and you hide your face on his neck biting down as the orgasm washes over you.
Kyle goes back to whispering on your neck. âKeep moving, doll. Please, please, a little bit more, just a bit more, I know you can do it, please, doll⊠you are driving me crazy, pleaseâŠâ he begs softly as he moves his hips against yours making you gasp against his skin. Warm breath against the drool you just let on his skin making him shudder grunting softly just before he cums on his pants against your cunt.Â
So close yet so farÂ
I have never in my life written smut before, so let me know how catastrophic that was.
Anyway, sorry if it is messy, I really have no clue where I'm taking this. Let me know if there any scenarios you would like to happen đ
And I can't express how happy I am that so many people liked the first part, really, thanks so much.
#price#captain price#captain john price#soap#john soap mactavish#ghost#ghost simon riley#simon ghost riley#gaz#price x reader#price imagine#soap x reader#soap imagine#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x you#gaz x y/n#soap x y/n#price x y/n#soap x you#john price#call of duty#cod mw2#141 x reader#call of duty smut#gaz smut#poly 141 x reader
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Hold You Tight: Part 6
Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 5 | Series Masterlist | Part 7
Chapter Summary: You're determined to have a quiet rest of the day without seeing or thinking about Bucky.
Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. â€ïž Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You sat in the tub, the cascading water from the shower head flowing over you as you stared at the opposite wall. Normally you welcomed the heat and billowing steam, but you shivered the longer you stayed there. The sound of the water droplets couldn't drown out Buckyâs moans or words from your mind.
âIâm so hard for you. And youâre wet for me, arenât you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.â
âYouâll take it. Youâll take me. Like a good girl.â
âWish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.â
With a groan, you leaned your head against the wall. The man jerked off to the thought of you. No one ever desired you like that, at least not that you knew of. More than that he wanted you in his home. By his side. Why? You couldn't grasp why he wanted you so badly.
You also couldn't deny that his words got to you, if your wet your underwear was anything to judge by when you peeled them off. Were you so desperate for a semblance of affection that a few dirty words from a terrifying man turned you on? What did that say about you?
Just like the last couple of days, that was too much to unpack.
âIâm not special,â you whispered.
You could practically see Bucky across from you with sadness in his eyes, the way he looked at you when you argued last night that you weren't special. He didn't believe that for a second. Quite the opposite. He saw something in you that others didn't. Wasn't that what you wanted deep down? To be seen? Cherished?
Not like this.
âGet up,â you muttered, carefully getting to your feet. You weren't going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Things could always be worse. All things considered, Bucky hadn't hurt you. Hadn't lied to you either, as far as you knew. Which made your heart ache at that thought of leaving your place behind.
If Bucky kept his promise and forced you to move in, what would you tell your friends? Would they think you were crazy for moving so fast or would they not question it at all because Bucky was rich, handsome, and they would assume he made you happy? Youâd say what you had to if it meant keeping them safe, but feared it could possibly put up a wall between you and the group since you couldn't tell them the full truth. Maybe his intention was to drive you away from them and bring you closer to him.
Your head began to ache from the overanalyzing. âIâm not going to think about Bucky Barnes.â Shutting the water off, you pushed the questions and scenarios as far from your mind as possible as you went about the rest of your morning. The rest of the day would be routine, normal, nothing out of the ordinary.
Naturally, Bucky messaged you once you finished getting dressed to prove you wrong. âThinking of you. Are you thinking of me?â
You swallowed dryly as you typed back to him. It was like he knew you were trying to forget about everything. âI think you want me to think about you.â
It didn't take him long to respond. âOf course, I do. I hope youâre thinking about our chat from earlier and when we can finish it.â The man didn't want to just get in your head. He wanted to get under your skin. âIs it too much to ask for a photo? You have such a beautiful smile.â
You scoffed both from the audacity and boldness. It wasn't enough that he pleasured himself while talking to you, he wanted a photo of you, too? He specifically noted your smile. Was it really beautiful? âJust because you sent me photos of you in your jackets doesn't mean I have to send photos back.â
âPretty please?â
It was almost cute. âNot today. Sorry, Bucky.â
âThatâs okay. Was worth a shot. Maybe I can convince you to let me take a photo when I see you tonight.â
You froze. There it was. Not âifâ heâd see you tonight, but âwhenâ. There was no stopping him, was there? Maybe it was that thought that possessed you to goad him because you couldn't otherwise explain why you sent what you did. âYou wonât see me because I have plans. But tell you what. If by any chance you do see me tonight, Iâll let you take a photo.â
You blinked and reread your message. Why did you do that? Sending that was as stupid as it was impulsive and would only encourage him.
âIs that a challenge or a promise?â
Your stomach twisted in knots, but you sent one last reply. âItâs whatever you want it to be.â
Bucky was so convinced heâd see you and there was a good chance he would, but youâd make him work for it a little. You wouldn't stick around your apartment. That would probably be the first place heâd look for you.
Catch me if you can.
Your shift went as normal as could be. Steady enough to keep you busy, but not feel overwhelmed. No difficult customers. No surprise visits from Bucky either, though you kept waiting for him to walk through the door.
There was no relief though once you clocked out since you had no idea where you'd hide out for the rest of the day. Everyone you reached out to was busy. Addison, of course, was going out to dinner with Brady and you didn't bother messaging her. Dana had a double date with another of your friends. The rest all had romantic evenings planned, too. They apologized like always.
Was it bad that you were kind of used to it?
A message from Bucky appeared the second you stepped out of the shop. âAny chance youâll give me a clue where youâll be?â
You sighed, a sense of weariness seeping in that you couldn't blame on work. âNot a chance.â
âShould I go find you now? Iâm a little bored.â
Your gaze darted from left to right. Was he already nearby somewhere watching? âIf you're bored, read a book.â
A smile crossed your face when you suddenly thought about where to go. You told yourself earlier you didn't want to think about Bucky for the rest of the day. What better way than to distract yourself with a book? And what better place than your favorite bookstore, Turn the Page?
Before you tucked your phone away, you turned the GPS off just in case Bucky had a way to get access to it. You wouldn't put it past him to try. You wouldn't take your normal route either. It was crazy to think things like a routine could be a bad thing, but Bucky made you question everything.
Walking through the city, you occasionally glanced back over your shoulder to make sure no one was following you. No one looked your way, too occupied with their own agendas as they shuffled around you. Something still felt off, goosebumps forming on your arms and your heart sinking as you felt a pair of steel eyes on you.
You didn't realize you stopped walking until someone nearly collided with you. âIâm so sorry,â you said, giving you the push you needed to move again. Quickening your pace, you reminded yourself it was still light out. People were around. Even if Bucky was following you, what would he do?
You moved forward and didn't look back until you found yourself at the bookstore, taking a calming breath before you walked in. Turn the Page had a cozy and peaceful atmosphere with a range from classic to modern stories. You could spend hours there and feel perfectly at home.
âHey, Marc,â you smiled at the man behind the counter.
âHey. Good to see you,â Marc smiled back. He took over the bookstore over a year ago. Friendly for the most part and took pride in the shop. âAnything I can help you find? Just finished setting up some new releases.â
âNo thanks,â you replied, selecting a thick romance novel that would pass the time. âI was just going to hang around and read for a bit if you don't mind.â
âNot at all. Can I get you anything to drink or eat? Coffee? Baked good?â He offered, nodding to the tiny cafe area in the corner.
âJust water for now, please,â you said. You probably needed to eat, but youâd wait for your nerves to fully settle. âCan I ask you something?â
âSure, whatâs up?â He asked, going to grab you your drink as you followed.
âHave you heard of The 107th?â You asked. You weren't sure what possessed you to do so. Maybe it was because he seemed like a neutral person to talk to.
âThe nightclub?â Mark eyed you curiously. âThat doesn't seem like your scene.â
âIâve only been once. A friend's bachelorette party over a month ago,â you explained, assuming he meant it wasn't your type of scene since you weren't a party girl. âBut I may have met the owner recently.â
Marc kept a neutral expression, but noticeably paused before he handed the glass over. âYou met Bucky Barnes?â
âYeah,â you answered, shifting on your feet. âDo you know him?â
He busied himself by cleaning the counter. âYeah, I know him,â he said, your chest tight. How? âWell, I wouldn't say I know him well. Iâve only met him a couple of times. A lot of the local owners have since he has a hand in quite a few endeavors. Donates to the local hospital and charities, too.â
âThatâs nice,â you croaked, taking a sip. If he had a hand in local businesses, was it possible that he met your boss? âHe seemed very driven when I spoke to him.â
âThat he is,â he agreed, tossing the rag away. âAlso dangerous,â he added under his breath.
âDangerous?â You repeated. The man threatened your loved ones, but why would Marc call him that?
He paused to look at you, his eyes wider than before. âYeah, but youâre too sweet to get mixed up in any of that, so forget I said anything. Please,â he urged. You wished you could. âHe hasn't been poking around your shop, has he?â
âNot that Iâm aware of,â you said. You hoped not.
âSorry, I just assumed since you said you met him. Wouldn't surprise me if he stops in soon though with the anniversary coming up and all.â
âAnniversary of what?â You asked.
âHis family. TheyâŠâ He trailed off when the phone rang at the counter. âSorry. I need to get back to work.â
âThatâs okay. Iâll just start my book,â you said, going to take a seat on the other side of the shop. You took your usual spot on the couch and wished you hadn't said anything. Marc knew Bucky enough to say he was dangerous. And why would he eventually poke around your shop? Anniversary⊠FlowersâŠ
âI wish you could've met my mom. She would've loved you.â
âSheâs gone and thatâs a topic for another day.â
You settled further into the couch with a huff. Buckyâs family and endeavors were none of your business. You weren't going to question it any further. You were going to sit and enjoy your book.
That was exactly what you did.
A few customers went in and out of the shop as you lost yourself in the story. It was easy to imagine snuggling with the hero as he whispered how much he loved you and always would. The sweet sort of romance that brought a smile to your face and allowed you to relax against the cushions. You were surprised you didn't fall asleep.
What time was it anyway?
âHowâs the book?â
A shiver rolled over you as you peered up from the page and saw Bucky standing in front of you. He wore the blue jacket and his eyes stood out just as you said they would. Where you expected to see triumph in his gaze, there was only curiosity and awe. Like he happened to bump into you by accident instead of intentionally.
âWhat are you doing here?â You whisper shouted, not wanting to draw attention. While it wasn't a complete shock that he managed to find you, it was a miracle your heart hadn't given out from how fast it pounded over the last couple of days. âHow did you find me?â
Did he actually follow you?
He smiled a little. âYouâre the one who told me to read a book since I was bored,â he said, taking a seat beside you and slipping his arm around you. You tensed as he pulled you close, but he merely rubbed your arm with his gloved hand until you relaxed. âAnd finding you was just a process of elimination. I know you didn't go back to your place after you left this morning and there aren't too many places you like to venture by yourself in the city.â
âAnd just how do you know I didn't go back to my apartment?â You asked.
âI may or may not have an eye on the building,â he said casually. It could've been a joke or serious answer, neither of which were a laughing matter. âOr maybe you knew that would be the first place Iâd try to look for you, so you decided to avoid it.â
You bit your tongue. That was exactly what you did. âOr maybe I wouldn't be there since I was supposed to go out.â
He nodded. âYou were supposed to go out, but your plans fell through, didn't they?â He asked sympathetically. You didn't want his pity. âIf I had to guess, they fell through even before we talked this morning.â
âMy original plans fell through, yes,â you confirmed.
He hummed. âWere you embarrassed to tell me?â
You wrung your fingers together. There was no reason for you to feel bad for not telling him. You didn't owe him anything because he wasn't your boyfriend. âNo,â you whispered.
âDid it just slip your mind when we talked?â He teased. At least he didn't sound upset or disappointed. Why wasn't he upset? Was he testing you?
âNo. I just wanted a night off from beingâŠâ you trailed off, not sure how he would react in public to something he didn't want to hear. And what was it a night off from exactly? Being his new girlfriend?
He scratched along his chin, drawing attention to the gray hairs. âYou know what I think?â He asked.
âI have no idea,â you replied.
âI think you were testing me because you wanted me to find you. You want me more than you want to admit,â he said. Your mouth fell open, but you couldn't speak. âOtherwise, why push me to look for you? Why hang out in one of your favorite shops knowing I could easily track you down?â
âI didn'tâŠâ You took a breath. You didn't want him to chase after you. That wasn't it. âI didn't push.â
âMoyo Kotyonok, you dared me with that message and you know it,â he smirked.
Biting your lip, you didn't deny it any further since he was partially right. You egged him on by offering to let him take a photo if he found you, which wasn't smart. If you had real plans, you wouldn't have done that. But you didn't do it because you wanted him to find you or wanted him in general.
You didn't.
âBut we can talk about that later,â he said, gentler than you expected. âIâm sorry about your plans. What happened?â
You finally closed the book in your lap and exhaled. âAddison and I were supposed to hang out, but sheâs going out to dinner with her fiancĂ© instead,â you explained.
He narrowed his eyes. âSo, she ditched you,â he said, disappointment finally seeping into voice.
You shook your head. âNo, she didn't ditch me. We rescheduled,â you argued, quick to defend her. She didn't maliciously blow you off. âThings come up. It happens.â
Bucky smiled softly. âYou stuck up for her immediately. I admire that,â he said, shifting to face you more. He practically crowded you. âWhy not hang out with another friend?â
You looked at your lap. What was he playing at? âBecause my friends are busy,â you whispered. It hurt to say it and it shouldn't. It was just a downside of being the single one in a group of friends who had significant others. No one was obligated to keep their schedules open in case you wanted to hang out.
He tilted your head up. Why wouldn't he just let you hide? âJust so you know, I will never be too busy for you,â he whispered. It wasn't fair that he looked at you like you mattered. âYouâre my top priority.â
You ignored the warm sensation that spread from your heart. So many people made you an option. âI shouldn't be,â you whispered.
âBut you are and that isn't going to change,â he said, steadfast as always. âAnd since this shop is going to close soon, why not go to the club with me? It'll be fun.â
You gestured to your comfortable outfit. âIâm not dressed for your club. Besides, I was going to call it an early night after I left.â
His eyes roamed your body with interest before he shrugged and took the book from your lap. âI have that dress waiting for you, but you can wear whatever you want since you look beautiful in anything.â
âAre you listening to what I'm saying? I said I want to call it an early night.â You moved to stand, your limbs tired from sitting. âFor someone who claims to care, you don't take my feelings into consideration.â
He reached to grab your hand and took it before you could walk away. âI care more than anyone else,â he whispered vehemently before he took a breath, his eyes burning with passion as he stood up, too. âIâm not ignoring your feelings. Itâs a compromise. We won't stay long, so come with me.â
âThank you for the offer,â you began, trying to put out the fire in his eyes. âBut why would I want to go to your club when all I want to do is read and relax?â
âDo I need to remind you that some of my friends will be there and they still want to meet you?â He asked, gently guiding you toward the front of the store. âAnd I can take your right back to your place after so you can rest. You'll still have an early night.â
He considered that a compromise? âBut I-â
âYouâll be in bed before 10. You have my word.â He walked you toward the exit, past the remaining customers, and gave the associate behind the counter a smile before you could protest. âAnd don't worry about the book. I paid for it.â
âWait, whereâs Marc?â You asked. You hadn't spoken to him since your earlier conversation.
The associate looked at Bucky before she smiled. âI think he went out back for a quick break.â
âBefore closing?â You asked.
âLetâs go,â Bucky said, heading out the door with you.
He helped you into the car by the curb as you were still catching up to what was happening. He effortlessly coaxed you out of a store with people around and into a car, alone. The man had no fear.
âWhere's Ray?â You asked since the partition was up. âShocked you didn't send him in to get me.â
âHe actually offered, but I wanted to go in myself,â Bucky replied, chuckling at your expression. âAnd don't worry. He's close by.â
You huffed and stared at the garment bag where your dress waited when he put an arm back around you. âI just wanted some peace and quiet tonight.â But he got you right where he wanted you.
âLike I said, you'll meet my friends and youâll be in bed by 10.â Bucky dragged his nose along your throat and inhaled your scent. Your eyes closed, but your body didn't freeze up the way you expected it to. âWeâll both get what we want.â
What you wanted didn't matter. âBucky?â
âYeah, doll?â
You closed your eyes. âJust how dangerous are you?â
âIâm the most dangerous man in the city, but you're safe with me,â he replied against your skin.
âAnd what if your friends don't like me?â You asked.
âYou have nothing to worry about. Theyâll love you,â he promised, bringing his head up to kiss your temple. âBut no one will ever love you more than I do.â
Love.
You shuddered. You weren't sure what you feared more. That his friends would love you enough to help keep you by his side or how much Bucky claimed to love you. Because there was nothing more dangerous than a powerful man in love.
Which friend do we think is the most excited to see you with Bucky? Love and thanks for reading! â€ïž
Masterlist â Bucky Barnes Masterlist â Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes#club owner!bucky barnes#club owner!bucky barnes x reader#soft!dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#bucky fic#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#x reader#turn it up au
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The Imperfect Couple - 2
Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader
Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi đđ»
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. â€ïž
As the flash of cameras blinded you, a reporter stepped forward, her voice eager as she asked, "How are you feeling now? We heard you were seriously ill while working abroad."
You forced a smile, nodding. âIâm doing much better now, thank you. The treatment was tough, but Iâm fine.â
Another reporter, sensing an opportunity to dig deeper, asked, âCan you tell us how you two met?â
You exchanged a brief glance with Bucky, before turning back to the crowd with a smile that didnât quite reach your eyes. âWell, we met at a music festival. I was in the corner trying to charge my phone, and this guyââyou gestured toward Bucky with a casual waveââcame over asking to borrow my charger. We started talking, mostly about musicâour favorite artists, the ones we didnât like. After that, we kept hanging out, and, well⊠it led to this.â
You smiled at the cameras, but there was a hint of something sharper in your eyes. âBut, you know, not once did he ever mention his dream of going into politics,â you added, the words tinged with just enough edge to make Bucky flinch.
Bucky chuckled, the sound forced. âI didnât want to scare her off.â
The press continued to bombard you both with questions, but most of them were directed at Bucky. He answered each one with the polished ease of a seasoned politician, while you stood there, feeling increasingly out of place and suffocated by the whole charade.
The situation you found yourself inâthe pretense, the constant spotlightâfilled you with a simmering frustration. You hated every minute of it.
As the car doors closed, you finally exhaled, the chaotic blur of cameras and flashing lights now safely behind tinted windows.
âWell done. Youâre fitting right in,â Bucky said, his voice carrying that infuriating mix of arrogance and ease as he loosened his tie.
You turned to him, your eyes narrowing. âDo you think Iâll just stay silent? I could write an article that would burn everything youâve worked for to the ground.â
He smirked, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms with a casualness that made your blood boil. âAre you blackmailing me, babe?â
âDonât call me that,â you snapped, rolling your eyes.
âWe have to start acting like a happy couple. Nicknames are part of the package,â he replied, his smirk never fading.
âI fucking hate you,â you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper, loaded with every ounce of resentment youâd been holding in.
âI donât, though. I never did,â Bucky responded, his tone softening, almost sincere.
You faltered for a moment, your defenses momentarily shaken. His words, no matter how simple, had a way of cutting deeper than you expected. But you quickly recovered, crossing your arms defensively.
âIf I get elected, I promise your independent news company will have us as a sponsor,â Bucky continued, his tone now all business. âIsnât your boss stressed out, looking for investors? Independent news still needs money to pay employees.â
You clenched your jaw. He was right, and you hated that he knew it. Your company was struggling, and his offerâno matter how twistedâwould keep it afloat.
âConsider this a business relationship,â he added, his eyes locking onto yours, challenging you.
You leaned in closer, voice laced with sarcasm. âOh, no, no. Whatever Bucky wants, Bucky always gets.â
Buckyâs eyes darkened, his smirk disappearing as he met your gaze with a seriousness that sent a chill down your spine. âNot this time. This time, Iâm making sure we both get what we want. But donât forget, if you decide to play with fire, be ready to get burned.â
The next thing, he did is made a video call, his eyes never leaving the screen. The call connected, and the familiar voice of your brother, Tim, came through the speaker.
âHey, the numbers are looking great, bro,â Tim said, his enthusiasm evident even through the screen.
Bucky nodded approvingly. âGood. Oh, thereâs someone who wants to see you.â He turned the phone to reveal you.
Timâs eyes widened in surprise. âOmg, youâre back! Youâre really here!â
Bucky chuckled, his expression smug. âI know, right?â
You were momentarily stunned, seeing your brother working for Bucky. The betrayal stung, making your heart twist in your chest. Timâs presence here was a stark reminder of how deeply involved Bucky was in every aspect of your life now.
Tim pointed at you with a half-serious, half-playful expression. âDonât mess this up.â
Bucky exchanged a few more words with Tim before ending the call. He looked over at you, his gaze intense. âHe seems happy working with me. His hard work would be ruined if the truth got out, wouldnât it, big sis?â
The words hung heavy between you, the implication clear. Bucky knew how protective you were of Tim and how much you cared for him. The tension in the car felt suffocating, every second stretching out as you tried to process the double blow of betrayal.
You turned away, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, the realization of being trapped with no easy escape. Bucky was holding all the cards, and you were left grappling with the enormity of it all.
đžđžđžđžđž
The car navigated through a series of well-manicured streets, finally pulling up to a grand, sprawling estate. Your eyes widened as you recognized Buckyâs house, an imposing structure that spoke of old money and inherited power. The sight only deepened your sense of dread.
As you stepped out, you glared at Bucky, frustration etched on your face. âAm I going to stay here?â
Bucky gave you a sidelong glance, his smile barely masking his amusement. âOh no. Weâll be staying at another house. I just wanted to introduce you to the team.â
A sigh of exasperation escaped you. âUrghh⊠is your mother here too? I hate her.â
Bucky chuckled, his tone laced with mockery. âNo filter, huh, babe? Sheâs here⊠but then again, you two have always had differing opinions.â
You shot him a withering look. âSheâs the main reason I left. She hated me from the moment you introduced us. Remember? She called me a âpoor bitch from Monte Cristo.ââ
Bucky nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and resignation. âItâs her signature move.â
âBucky, the longer I stay with you, the more I want to snap. If you put me in the same room with your mother, I might just lose it,â you snapped, your frustration boiling over.
Buckyâs smile remained, but his eyes grew colder. âGood thing you wonât have to share the same roof then.â
As you walked through the house grand entrance, one of Buckyâs team members approached him with an enthusiastic smile. âIntroducing her to the public really boosted our numbers. Great move, James.â
Bucky glanced at you with a victorious grin, as if heâd just won a major battle.
Soon, his siblings made their appearance. His brother, a tall, disheveled figure with an air of erratic energy, was clearly under the influence of cocaine. He flashed a toothy grin at you before turning his attention elsewhere. His sister, reserved and quiet, offered you a polite nod, barely acknowledging your presence.
Then, his young nephew Nate bounded up to you, his face lighting up with recognition. He wrapped his small arms around your leg.
âHey, Nate!â you said, surprised and touched that he still remembered you. âItâs been a while.â
Nate looked up at you with wide eyes. âI remember you! You used to play with me.â
You patted his head gently, feeling a pang of nostalgia.
Meanwhile, Caroline Barnes, Buckyâs mother, observed you from the corner of the room. At seventy, she looked every bit the part of the icy matriarch, dressed head-to-toe in Chanel. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, were framed by a carefully styled silver coiffure. She held her champagne glass with a delicate but dismissive grip.
âSomething about her, I always hate. I canât explain why,â Caroline said with a sneer, her gaze never leaving you.
Julius Barnes, Buckyâs father, stepped in. With his full gray beard and military posture, he exuded authority. âBe nice, Caroline. Itâs crucial for her to be here. We canât afford to lose this opportunity.â
You looked at Julius and Caroline. Both had clearly aged, their faces lined with the stress of the campaign.
Caroline forced a thin smile. âWelcome. Itâs so delightful to have you here. Iâm sure youâll find the atmosphere⊠inspiring.â
You gave a tight-lipped smile. âOh, youâre such a fucking liar.â
Carolineâs eyes widened in surprise at your boldness. âYouâre really brave now,â she said, a hint of shock in her voice.
âBecause Iâm not part of your family anymore. The marriage between me and James was supposed to have ended,â you retorted, your voice cold and steady.
Carolineâs smile faltered, but she quickly regained her composure. âWell, dear, you must be quite the sight to behold for us tonight.â
Julius stepped in, trying to defuse the tension. âLetâs keep this civil. We have important matters to discuss.â
You glanced at Bucky, who watched the exchange with a bemused expression. It was clear that this charade was far from over, and you were trapped in a web.
As you and Bucky prepared to sit down on the plush couch, the campaign team busied themselves in the background, setting up for the next presentation. You moved to take a seat, but Caroline's voice cut through the murmur of activity with a sharp edge.
âNa-ahh. Put a blanket under her,â Caroline said, her tone dripping with disdain. âWe donât know what kind of virus sheâs brought back from another country. And this is a $50,000 couch.â
You stared at her, incredulous. âWhat the fuck? Is that a joke?â You turned to Bucky, eyes flashing with irritation. âBecause strangling her is a joke for me.â You chuckled darkly, âI think it's funny too.â
Buckyâs face tightened as he stepped between you and his mother. âStop it, Mom. I need her more than I need your attitude.â
Carolineâs eyes narrowed, her face a mask of thinly veiled disdain. âWell, isnât that just charming,â she said, rolling her eyes as if the very act of speaking to you was beneath her.
Julius, standing nearby, shot Caroline a stern look, his military bearing evident in the rigid set of his shoulders. âWeâre trying to keep things civil. This isnât the time for your petty grievances.â
Caroline huffed, crossing her arms with an exaggerated sigh. âFine, fine. Letâs all just pretend weâre one big happy family, shall we?â
You took a deep breath, trying to suppress the growing anger bubbling inside you.
The room felt charged with tension, and it was clear that the facade of civility was wearing thin. Bucky gave you a reassuring glance, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of frustration.
Greg part of the campaign team, a wiry young man with an anxious energy, took center stage. He adjusted his glasses and began to explain the next phase of Buckyâs campaign strategy with a mix of nerves and enthusiasm.
âSo the next plan isâŠâ Greg said, his voice slightly shaky. He clicked through a series of slides on the screen behind him, each one detailing the upcoming events. âWeâre focusing on increasing voter outreach through targeted social media campaigns and local meet-and-greets. Weâve also got a major fundraising event coming up next week.â
Bucky nodded, his expression a mask of professional detachment, though his eyes flickered with a hint of approval. You, seated beside him, tried to maintain your composure, though the tension in the room was almost palpable, especially with Caroline still glaring at you.
Greg continued, his tone growing more frantic as he reached the final point. âAnd the last thingâŠâ He took a deep breath, glancing nervously between you and Bucky. âBoth of you will need couples therapy.â
You couldnât help but roll your eyes, a sarcastic smirk tugging at your lips. âOh, isnât this just wonderful?â
Gregâs face reddened as he tried to recover from his awkward announcement. âI mean, itâs just⊠well, itâs a suggestion. You know, for the campaignâs sake. Sometimes, a little⊠uh⊠harmony at home can be beneficial.â
Bucky gave a tight smile, his gaze fixed on Greg. âI appreciate the suggestion, Greg. Weâll definitely consider itâmaybe after we get through the rest of this circus.â
Greg nodded vigorously, clearly relieved to move on from the uncomfortable topic. âRight, of course. Well, letâs focus on the campaign, then.â He hurriedly wrapped up the meeting, leaving you both alone.
You sighed and turned to Bucky. âDid you wake up this morning and decide you wanted to be Vice President, or was it just a spontaneous career choice?â
Bucky leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smirk. âOh, you know me. I was just lying in bed, thinking how I could add âVice Presidentâ to my list of hobbies. Figured itâd be a nice change of pace from ruining your day.â
You narrowed your eyes at him, unamused. âAnd here I was thinking you might have a bit of humility left.â
Bucky chuckled, lifting an eyebrow as he shifted in his seat. âHumility? Thatâs for people who arenât trying to get elected. But donât worry, Iâm sure weâll find some way to make this circus amusing for both of us.â
He leaned forward, a glint of mischief in his eyes. âHoney, Iâll give you the ticket.â
You raised an eyebrow, incredulous. âA ticket? To what, exactly? Your endless charade?â
Buckyâs smirk widened as he leaned back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. âTo the front row of the greatest show on earth. Itâs going to be quite a ride, I promise.â
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Starting Over: Chapter 5 - Better
Mob!Bucky x Female Reader
Series Masterlist
When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.
Hi! I'm sorry this took so long, work has been kicking my bum lately and I haven't had much writing time. But it's here - the final part! I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who has reblogged/commented/engaged with this story - it means so much. Thank-you!!
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One week laterâŠ
You were cleaning tables when you glanced at the dinerâs clock and realised it was almost 9am. Friday was here once againâŠ
âŠWould he be in as usual?
It was raining heavily outside, throughout the early shift your regulars had rushed in and shaken the sogginess off their coats and umbrellas once they were safely over the threshold of the diner. Youâd chatted with them, commiserating with them about âthis damn weatherâ and promising to warm them up with coffee and breakfast.
Youâd spent your time off this last week popping into the hospital to see Lou. He was doing well, making progress, but the road to recovery was long. He needed to make major adjustments to his lifestyle and potentially engage in physical therapy as they think heâd also had a small stroke. He got his personal mail delivered to the diner and asked you to open it and keep him updated with anything pressing. The medical bills youâd seen were already dizzying and his insurance only covered part of it, but you couldnât bother him what that just yet â he didnât need the stress on top of everything else. Youâd figure it out. You always did.
Lou had made you acting manager to pick up the slack while he was gone. You were pulling extra hours, working overtime to ensure the ship remained afloat while the captain remained on the shore. It was tough, but you couldnât deny you loved the buzz of being in charge â of keeping everything moving.
You hadnât seen Bucky since that night at the hospital. Heâd insisted on driving you home after youâd said goodbye to Lou, ignoring your protests that the subway was perfectly fineâŠ
âThe subway, doll? Fuck no. Not on my watchâ.
Youâd rolled your eyes, knowing you didnât have the energy to fight him after the evening youâd had. He knew it too. Youâd merely sighed and hopped into the back of his SUV as you gave him your new address, giving a little wave to Clint who was driving.
The two of you sat in the back in silence for the entire journey, you watched the city flying past you from the window and it felt strange that the outside world was just continuing around you like normal while yours had almost collapsed.
The car rolled to a stop in front of your building, and you turned to Bucky. He seemed to be studying you carefully, concern drawn across his features. Even after all this time and distance, the beauty of his face still took your breath away at times.
âThank-youâŠfor the ride. For dinner. For showing upâŠall of it,â you said softly.
He nodded stoically, âalways. LookâŠno matter what happens between us, Iâll always show up for you if you need me. Any time, any place. And Lou is going to be just fine, alright?â
Almost instinctively you found your hand sliding across the leather of the seat towards him. He looked down as your hand moved to find his. You clasped your fingers around his metal digits, the cool sensation against your skin was something you hadnât felt in a long time. They in turn wrapped around yours and the two of you sat holding hands for a short while. You didnât speak or look at each other, just both existing in the moment and concentrating on the feeling of your hands entwined. You paused, wanting to say more â but unable to quite find the words.
Eventually you couldnât bear the strange tension in the air. You gently withdrew your hand and cleared your throat as you shuffled across the seat towards the door.
âWell, thanks again. And for the ride, tooâ.
âAnytime. Nice buildingâŠâ he peered out of the window at your apartment block.
âAh yeah, thanks,â you said proudly.
âYou doing okay, living there?â he asked quizzically in his Brooklyn-lilt, his brows furrowed.
âMmâŠI mean, itâs not as fancy as your place,â you chuckled, âitâs kinda cramped and small, but itâs cosy and warm. And itâs mine,â you told him with fondness.
He smiled, but it didnât quite meet his eyes. âMy place was yours too, you knowâ.
You chewed on your lip, you hadnât intended it as a slight against him. âI-I know BuckâŠbutâŠyou know what I meantâ.
He nodded reluctantly. âYeahâŠthatâs good. Iâm pleased for you, reallyâ. His nose crinkled as he looked at you fondly. It was a little mannerism of his that youâd missed.
You shared a small smile before getting out of the car and heading inside. You couldnât quite bring yourself to look back at the car, a storm of emotions fighting to escape you. Your fatigue mixed with your anxieties about Lou, confusion about this sudden shift with Bucky now swelling. You could tell from the quiet behind you that the car hadnât pulled away yet, no doubt waiting until you were safely off the street. You put your key in the door and quickly moved inside.
That was last week. You hadnât spoken to him since, although youâd wondered if you should reach out. You thought he mightâve been in touch â a text, a call, but nothing. It was nice, he was leaving the ball in your court and not crowding you, respecting the boundaries youâd established. But part of you couldnât shake the small sense of disappointment that lingered, too.
The fact was you couldnât deny that something was stirring. Bucky, who youâd long written off and blacklisted for his betrayal, had started to be on your mind more and more. He had crept back into your brain.
You didnât believe the old adage that time healed all wounds, but it had certainly helped. The space youâd had from him a year on from the incident had allowed you to find yourself again, the parts that you hadnât realised youâd lost after diving headfirst into your relationship with Bucky. You still felt immense pain when you thought about what happenedâŠbut you also thought about how he had been true to his word. He hadnât tried to force you back, not aggressively pursuing you or trying to talk you round. His weekly mornings at the diner had never felt pointed or manipulative. You believed that he was just happy to have you in his life, like heâd said. Youâd since found your own place, started therapy and looked at your own issues, thrown yourself into work. Remembered who you were before you were âmob boss girlfriendâ. You knew that what had happened with Bucky was not your fault, it wasnât your job to reflect and change accordingly â that was all his. But still, having the space and time to work on yourselfâŠit was refreshing. One small silver lining on this ugly, black cloud.
Youâd also been on a few dates over the last few months. Nothing to write home about. A few nice guys, a few less than nice guys. Nothing had truly sparked for you; nobody had piqued your interest enough to want to really explore more than a few dinners or coffees. Maybe it was because of how things ended with Bucky, or you just hadnât met someone right for you, or maybe you were just off dating altogetherâŠBut it wasnât something you felt real enthusiasm for at this point. But that was okay. It had been fun to dip your toe back in the dating pool, and you werenât averse to trying again when the moment was right, or you met the right person.
Unless of course, it was because someone else was on your mind.
Your slow burn friendship with Bucky had crept on you, taken you by surprise. The man who had once broken your heart now had a new place in your life. It was strange, but in some ways, you knew him better than you had when you were together. Despite your previous connection - your conversations had opened territory up youâd never covered together before, previously too caught up in passion and heat to dive as deeply as you had now.
And most importantly, he had shown up for you that night at the hospital, been there for you without you needing to ask. He had brought you dinner and stayed by your side without a word, because he knew you needed not to be alone â needed support. You were touched by his care for you, his willingness to clear his schedule for you at the drop of a hat. It meant a lot. It meant everything. He had intuited how you felt and acted immediately. He was there.
You didnât know what it meant, if anything. Something had changed, the safe barrier of diner breakfast chats had been crossed. Part of you was panicking â no! Donât let him get close, not again! Remember what he did! But another part of you had missed him deeply, longed to hold him again and wake up to him each morning. Your thoughts were a spiralling mass of contradictions and conflict, nothing made sense.
You werenât sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what happened.
But could you try?
Roscoe snapped you out of your thoughts as he passed you the latest batch mail on his way by. You thanked him, flicking through the junk mail until your attention was caught by the hospital logo on one of the envelopes. You winced, tentatively ripping open the paper as you braced yourself for the latest bill.
You cursed under your breath as you unveiled the total figure, a stupid amount of money. You spiralled as it sank in, wondering if Lou would have to sell the diner in order to settle his debt. You knew he didnât have anywhere near enough in his savings. You thought about all the jobs that could be at stake, including yours, and your heart ached most of all knowing that the restaurant was Louâs baby. It would break him to give it up.
Maybe you could call them, sort out a payment planâŠsomething?
You tried to calm yourself down, thinking about what your therapist would say about your immediate jump to the worst-case scenario. Relax. You can fix this. Remember your mindfulness exercises. Life would find a way.
The opening of the front door pulled you from your catastrophising. You glanced over, making eye contact with a rather damp Bucky as he entered the diner. He sighed, shaking the rain from his coat as he scoffed and rolled his eyes.
âA lovely morningâŠâ he muttered, deadpan.
You smiled, stuffing the hospital bill into your apron pocket and going to grab the coffee jug, âMorning, Buck. Get a little wet?â
âA little,â he gruffed, slotting himself into his usual booth.
You chuckled as you filled up his mug.
âHowâs Lou?â he asked, shaking the rain from his hair.
âHeâs doing better, thanks for asking. Theyâve got a whole treatment plan worked out for him - so thatâs positiveâ.
âGood. Glad to hear. You over here running the show while heâs out?â
âSomething like that,â you smiled, then shuffled on your feet as you realised you needed to talk to him. âBucky, I-â
A loud clatter and exclamation from the kitchen cut you off, causing you both to look over at the disturbance. You sighed with exasperation.
âAh. Duty callsâŠIâll put your order in while Iâm in thereâ.
You rushed off to sort out whatever mess waited for you in the kitchen as Bucky smiled playfully at your annoyance.
He noticed something had fallen out of your apron as you dashed off. A piece of paper. He leaned over to pick it off the floor for you in case you needed it. Before he realised it was private and had a chance to look away, his eyes were immediately drawn to the monstrous sum at the bottom of the page. Ah. He grimaced as he quickly put two and two together, folding the paper neatly and leaving it on the table. He took a sip of his coffee.
You appeared a little while later with his order, sighing heavily as you placed the plate in front of him.
âSorry about thatâŠRoscoe and Ron were fighting about if the bacon was too crispy, and some trays got caught up in the carnage. Never a dull moment around hereâŠâ
You suddenly noticed the paper on the table, your words trailing off as your eyes locked onto it. You snatched it away quickly, shoving it into your apron.
âThatâs notâŠthatâs-â you floundered, embarrassed for him to have seen it.
âIâm sorry, I wasnât trying to snoop. You dropped it, so I picked it up and then realised what it was,â he explained softly.
âItâs fine. Iâm dealing with it,â you shrugged, desperate to appear nonchalant.
âSit down, dollâ, he said sternly.
You scoffed, âBuckyâŠIâm busy running a restaurant hereâŠâ
He paused, looked up and bellowed across the diner, âRoscoe! Ron! Handle things while your boss takes a break!â
You rolled your eyes, turning to see Roscoe and Ron nodding furiously as they scattered and suddenly started working harder than youâd ever seen them. They had always been afraid of Bucky. You stifled a laugh.
âProblem solved, now sit,â he gestured.
You reluctantly sat down opposite him, âBuckyâŠâ
âWeâre gonna talkâ.
âI donât need-â
âNo. Letâs do thisâ, he said sternly.
You folded your arms in front of you, fully aware that you resembled a petulant teenager but not caring enough to stop.
Bucky cleared his throat, taking a sip of his coffee before picking up the letter. âNow, I donât want to overstepâŠbut I can take care of this you knowâŠâ
You shook your head. âNo. Thanks for the offer, but no,â you told him firmly.
âAlright. Thatâs fine. So, Lou has enough to cover it?â he asked, âall of it?â
You nodded a bit too quickly, âmmhmmâ.
Bucky caught it immediately, your lie. You noticed the quirk of his brow and the subtle rubbing of his lips together. Damn him.
âWell, thatâs a relief,â he sipped his coffee again and ate a few forkfuls of his meal, then wiped his mouth with a napkin and tilted his head quizzically. âGuess itâs all wrapped up, thenâ.
You nodded again in agreement, but knew he wasnât done.
He took his time, casually taking a few more bites of his breakfast and sipping his coffee. You knew his relaxed demeanour was a careful façadeâŠyou had somehow found yourself at the centre of a famed Bucky Barnes interrogation.
You tried to appear relaxed, as if you had nothing more to add.
âBecauseâŠâ he started.
Ugh.
ââŠbecause, if he didnât have enough. That would be a problem, wouldnât it?â
âMmm. It would. But itâs notâŠsoâŠâ
âRightâ, he cut you off. âBut if he didnât â great eggs today by the way â if he didnât, that would be putting this place at risk, right? All the staff here and their jobs. Your job?â
âRight,â you replied, your voice a little strained.
âAnd of course Lou himselfâŠhe loves this place. Itâs his baby. Iâm sure heâd be devastated if he had to give it up to pay his medical bills. Especially as the last thing he needs right now is more stress and financial worries on top of his ill healthâ. He paused again to eat, not even looking up.
You nodded; your eyes now slightly cloudy now.
âYepâŠâ you said meekly.
He looked up at you, his eyes intensely locked onto yours, gesturing towards you with the fork. He was in full swing now. The diner suddenly felt much hotter, you could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on your forehead and the back of your neck.
âAnd I hope it would be known, if that was the case of course, that my offer would have no strings attached. Because I could imagine someone might decline it out of pride, or concern that it would have conditions and that person would then be in some sort of debt to meâŠeither financially or emotionally. And if that was the case, Iâd want to reassure them that it would only be a friend looking out for a friend, helping because I want to, and I can, and God knows I should do something nice once in a while to even out my moral scalesâŠâ
The barrier broke and your tears finally escaped, the stress about Lou and this intimidating bill, and your confusion about how you felt for Bucky, all finally coming to the surface. You cupped your face in your hands as you quietly sobbed.
âIâm sorry, I justâŠIâŠâ
Bucky moved like lightning, whipping around to your side of the booth as he swung in next to you.
âHeyâŠhey, itâs okay. Iâm sorry,â he said softly, âI didnât mean to upset you. I just wanted to be clear what my offer entailed; but I understand why youâd be reluctant to accept my helpâ.
He pulled a few napkins from the dispenser and tenderly wiped away your tears.
âIt wouldnât be a loan, doll, and you wouldnât need to make nice with me to say thanks. You could call me an asshole and dump these eggs on my head, and Iâd still pay in full with a smile. Thereâs no expectation here, no contract â legal or impliedâ.
You sniffed, looking up at him blearily, âyouâd really do all that for meâŠbutâŠwhy?â
He paused, then very delicately used his thumb to collect the tears forming at the side of your eye.
âYou know why,â he said plainly.
Your heart panged, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, clutching at one of the now-soggy napkins heâd given you. You sniffed again as you regained your composure, suddenly feeling exposed in front of him. The two of you stared at one another for a few moments and you were so desperate to tell him everything, but you couldnât form the words. You hoped he would elaborate and fill in that gap for you, but he didnât.
He quietly got up, putting on his coat and placing some bills down on the table to cover his check. He leaned over and kissed you on the crown of your head, then used a finger to tilt your chin up to look at him.
âYou donât have to decide anything now,â he told you as he looked into your eyes, âThink it over. Iâll be back here next week like alwaysâ.
He smiled at you, then disappeared out into the street. You heard the roaring of the rain outside as the diner door opened, the little bell above the frame chiming to announce his departure.
You missed him already.
You looked down at the hospital bill in your hands, the total at the bottom practically screaming from the page.
Heâd hurt you so badly, you werenât sure if you could ever fully forgive him for that fateful night. You understood it had been his insecurities, you understood he had lashed out after he thought his worst fears were realised â but that had only even explained his actions, not justified them.
AlthoughâŠheâd always been there over the last year. Slow and steady, but heâd taken the time to rebuild his relationship with you platonically. Heâd let you manage the pace, never tried to force anything more than you were willing to give him.
âŠand heâd been there for you.
He continued to be there for you.
It wasnât about the money. He wasnât trying to pay you off to win favour. He was just trying to be there for you, and this was something he had the power and resources to help you with.
He was your friend.
He loved you. Heâd continued to love youâŠ
âAre you back off break, boss?â Roscoe rudely interrupted your train of thought, âRon said that the fryer-â
You were pulling off your apron before your brain could even catch up with your body.
âNope,â you shot back, firing out of the booth at full speed as you tossed the apron at him on your way out, âa little longerâŠâ
You left Roscoe gawping in your wake as you sailed through the front door. You yelped in shock as you stepped out into the downpour, youâd forgotten about the mini storm happening beyond the restaurant doors. It was so dark outside it looked more like early evening than the morning hours. You looked down at your immediately soaked uniform, your work shoes flooding as you traipsed through the puddlesâŠ
Focus!
You surveyed the street, your eyes catching a brief glimpse of the SUV turning the corner. The instantly recognisable JBB107 plates drawing your focus in the split second before they vanished.
And so you ran.
You sprinted after the SUV waving your arms, shouting for it to stop. A concerned elderly lady asked if you were okay but you sailed on by. You mustâve looked utterly insane.
You rounded the corner and rushed up behind the SUV as it slowed. The back door flew open, and Bucky suddenly appeared out of it, a look of horror on his face as the vehicle pulled over.
âDoll! Jesus Christ, what the- are you okay??â he shouted to you as you approached.
You didnât answer, just flung yourself inside the car as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Bucky slid across the seat to give you room. The divider screen was up so you couldnât see the driver. One less person to witness your mortifying display, at least.
âFuckâŠyou must be freezing,â he muttered as he pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders and leaning over to close the car door behind you.
You were, your teeth chattered. Your hair was wet and matted, your uniform soaked through.
âBuckyâŠâ you said hoarsely as you dripped all over his plush car interior.
âWhat is it, doll?â he asked, his eyes wide and alarmed, âwhatâs going on??â
You couldnât find the words so you acted purely on instinct, you cupped his face and kissed him. Kissed him hard. Kissed him longingly. He caught up quickly and kissed you back, his fingers tangled in your soaking hair. It was desperate, messy. Your teeth clashed and your cheeks bumped. It had been so long that youâd lost each otherâs rhythm with this. But it didnât matter. Nothing mattered. You couldnât have waited any longer.
He pulled away, gawping at you incredulously as he held your face in his hands.
âDollâŠdoes this mean?â
âLetâs go slow,â you whispered, âI appreciate everything youâve done for me. The effort youâve put into rebuilding us from the ground upâŠfor being my friendâŠfor never pushing meâŠfor LouâŠbut Iâm not sure Iâm ready to jump into this headfirstâŠwhatever this isâŠâ
He nodded, âof course, anything you wantâ.
âIâm not sure if I canâŠfully forgive. But I want to try,â you told him softly as you pressed your forehead to his.
He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as he sighed. A sigh of long held tension, of relief.
âThank-you for giving me a chanceâŠI didnât think you ever would again,â he admitted.
âYeahâŠwell neither did I,â you laughed,
âWhat changed your mind?â
âWellâŠ. how you showed up for me with Lou has made me rethink a lot of things. PlusâŠthe moneyâ.
He laughed, âthe money? Really? This whole time I just needed to pay you off?â
âNoâŠâ, You rolled your eyes, âit was more that you offered, but you didnât force anything, and you made it clear it was no strings attached. Itâs likeâŠyou want to help me, but you trust me to make my own decisions and donât just try and fix it all for me, like you used to. I justâŠit made me realise how much Iâve missed you. But itâs gotta be different this timeâŠâ
âYeah?â
âYeahâŠlikeâŠI want to stay in my apartment. And I want to keep my job,â you said firmly.
He nodded, âyeah. Of courseâ.
âMaybe Iâd move back in with you one dayâŠbut I want my spaceâ.
âOkay. You got it,â.
You smiled, âyeah?â
He smiled back at you, the smile that still made you weak at the knees. âDoll? If it means youâre by my sideâŠOf course âyeahâ. Anything you want. And I have some conditions tooâŠâ
âWhat?â you frowned. âThis isnât exactly a two-way negotiation, BuckâŠâ
âJustâŠlisten. Theyâre conditions for me. I promise Iâm going to trust you entirely, and to communicate you with you properly â not let my emotions get the best of me. Iâm a different man to who I was the last time we were together. I know how lucky I am to get this second chance with you. Iâm not fucking it up. I'm gonna be...betterâ.
He spoke earnestly with such conviction that it was almost aggressive. You nodded gently, squeezing his hand. You believed him.
âAlrightâŠwell, letâs give it a shot, shall we?â
He grinned, âI canât believe youâre hereâŠâ
âMe neither. ButâŠIâm sorry Iâm dripping rainwater all over your carâ.
He shrugged. âFuck the carâ.
And then he kissed you again.
Maybe you did believe in happy endings.
THE END
There we have it! I hope you liked where it went. I know some of you didn't think she should ever forgive him and I understand, and I'm sorry if you're disappointed! But in my eyes he had shown her he was willing to change...and she wasn't trying to rush back into anything heavy. Thank you for reading!
If you liked this story, please consider supporting me with my Ko-Fi link đ
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Part 7: In All My Victories
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11
Somebody said you got a new friend (But does she love you better than I can?)
(In which a writer in an EST timezone uses the PST timezone to announce that technically she's still meeting the deadline)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy
Words: 6.5K
TW: Swearing, Toxic Relationships
A/N: Hello my lovelies! Listen it's past midnight here but it's only around 9 pm in California which is where most of this fic is set so TECHNICALLY I am still meeting my deadline. This chapter is kind of a filler (and I guess that's why I don't love it) because it was gonna be about ~3K longer with another scene but it was either a longer chapter or a Monday chapter and I feel like y'all would prefer a Monday chapter. I have not edited this yet because I simply just don't have the energy to so pretty please point out my errors as you read so I can use them when I edit some time tomorrow. There's probably other stuff I need to say but I'm feeling oddly delirious right now so I'll just end with the usual. Let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3
March 2033
Paige wakes up to a stream of sunlight tapping at her eyelids and someoneâs soft breath tickling against her nose. She can feel a tiny hand pressed against her chest -right above her heart- and the weight of another personâs fingers intertwined against her own. The room is silent with the exception of the clock ticking on the wall and the perfectly harmonized breathing of the other people in the room. Stephie and Azzi. And Paige is scared to open her eyes, scared to move even an inch, scared that if she does either of those things, her dreamlike reality will prove to be nothing but a hopeless mirage.Â
It had taken Paige a moment last night to really register what was happening around her. Dazedly, she had followed Azzi up the stairs into the guest room. Sheâd watched, albeit unhelpfully, as Azzi had searched out extra pillows, setting up the queen-sized bed so it could fit three people instead of itâs regular duo. It hadnât sunk in even as Paige had slowly gotten herself ready for bed, finding herself in one of Azziâs old oversized t-shirts suddenly overwhelmed with how much sheâd missed falling asleep embraced in the scent of the younger womanâs favorite lavender and eucalyptus deodorant. Even as sheâd made her way back from the bathroom and found Stephie beaming at her from where she was curled into Azziâs side on bed, Paige still felt like she was simply just watching everything from a facetime call, like she had been while back in Dallas. It wasnât until Stephieâs bedtime story was finished and the lights were turned off, when Azziâs hand finally captured hers underneath the comforter and squeezed gently, that it finally clicked for Paige.Â
Azzi had asked her to stay over.
Azzi had promised she wouldnât run away.Â
And as Paige finally lets eyes flutter open, blinking to adjust to the light, she breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of a promise kept.Â
Propping herself onto her elbow, she lets herself take in the view of the two people still sound asleep next to her. Paige isnât a morning person by any means -rarely is she the first person to wake up- but she thinks if this was what she could open her eyes to every time, getting up could become her favorite part of the day.Â
Itâs uncanny how similar Azzi and Stephie are while sleeping. The little girlâs grip on Paigeâs shirt is almost as strong as the tight hold her mother has on Paigeâs hand. Itâs like theyâre trying to reel Paige into their world and keep her there forever, like even if she let go, they wouldnât let her. Thereâs an air of contentedness on Azziâs face as she snuggles closer to her daughter and Stephie has a soft smile at being cocooned in the protection of her motherâs arms. And Paigeâs whole body aches a little bit because this bed theyâre on is definitely not made for three people, but itâs nothing in comparison to the way her heart feels like it might burst from this feeling of and maybe this is how i become whole again.Â
She presses a kiss against Stephieâs forehead and rubs her thumb against the back of Azziâs hand before carefully detaching herself from the duo and slipping out of bed. The whole house is still clearly asleep as Paige lethargically brushes and then begins to make her way down the stairs. Her eyes gloss over the pictures placed across the stairwell until they fixate on one that has her in it. Itâs an image taken after one of many water fights theyâd had at the Fudd household during a hot summer day. Life had been so simple back then when it was water and not bullets that they shot at each other.Â
Five drenched children are beaming at the camera. Jon and JosĂ© are posed in some ridiculous stance, their water guns pointed at the camera. Paige, par for the course, is flexing, a far too cocky smirk dancing on her lips because sheâd probably won the game (even if nobody else agreed). And then thereâs Drew and Azzi. Thereâs a familiar pang in Paigeâs chest as she brushes her fingers over her little brotherâs exuberant smile. Heâs latched onto the brunetteâs back, a blue water balloon in his hand, as Azzi uses one hand on his hip to keep Drew in place and uses her other one to hold a pink water balloon of her own. The Fudds -Azzi- had been as big of a constant in Drewâs life as they had been in Paigeâs and she wonders now, as she thinks back to her little brotherâs irritation with her joining the Valkyries, if heâd ever forgive her and Azzi for taking that away from him.Â
âOh hey good morning,â Tallulah says as Paige lets herself into the kitchen, blanching slightly at the sight of the other woman.Â
âGood morning,â Paige greets, pouring herself a glass of water as she takes a seat at the island, âguessing youâre making pancakes?â
Tallulah nods with a grin, âStephieâs orders you know.â
âAh of course,â Paige laughs, âcanât defy the queen.â
She watches as Tallulah prances around the hardwood floor, grabbing bowls and ingredients, like itâs her kitchen and Paige canât help the twinge of envy that blooms in her bloodstream. It used to be her. She used to know the Fuddâs kitchen -the whole house- like the back of her hand because really, like Katie always said, it was her home too. But she doesnât quite know this place, couldnât tell you where to find the sugar or where the utensils were kept and that stings more than sheâd expected. It spirals Paige into the thought that she wouldnât know any of those things at Azziâs own house either. And suddenly sheâs struck by the reminder that two people whoâd once promised to build a world together, had spent the last couple of years, building two separate ones instead.Â
âHey,â Tallulah breaks Paige out of her trance, âyou good.â
Paige musters up a smile, âyeah- yeah of course. Just- just thinking a lotta things I guess.â
âTheyâve all missed you, you know,â Tallulah says softly, âthey try not to do it too much around Azzi but itâs always âoh Paige wouldâve loved thisâ or âdid you catch that bucket Paige made last nightâ. And whenever the Wings were playing here, it was a no-brainer that they would go.â
âYeah?â tears prickle against the blondeâs waterline.Â
âYeah,â Tallulah confirms, âTim lowkey lost his mind before you got here last night. Poor man was running all over the place making sure things were good. Katie thought it was pretty hilarious.â
Paige lets out a watery laugh, âthat sounds like them-â
âMiss Buecks,â a tiny voice interrupts her before she can say anything and Paige whirls around to see a teary-eyed Stephie looking at her from the last step of the staircase, her bottom lip trembling and panic courses into Paigeâs bloodstream
âStephie,â she practically trips over herself as she rushes to fold the little girl into her arms, âsweetheart whatâs wrong?â
Stephie nestles herself into the blondeâs neck, mumbling something incoherent as she holds Paige impossibly tight.Â
âStephie,â Paige whispers frantically, concern dripping from her voice, âtell Miss Buecks whatâs wrong please. I canât fix it if you donât tell me sweetheart.â
âThought you left,â Stephie confesses finally, keeping her head burrowed against Paigeâs shoulder, âyou werenât next to me when I woke up. Got scared.â
âOh honey,â Paige whispers, as she gently coaxes the little girlâs head out from the crook of her neck so she can cup her face, âIâm right here. I wouldnât leave without saying goodbye.â
Stephieâs quiet for a second, hiccoughing to herself as she searches for something on Paigeâs face before she holds out a pinky, âpromise youâll never leave?âÂ
Paige hesitates, the words sitting heavy on the tip of her tongue. Itâs not that she doesnât want to but Paige has learned first-hand about the fragility of the future, about how true the clichĂ© about time changing in the blink of an eye can be. Because the truth is that itâs not just Azzi whoâs scared. Paige is terrified. Sheâd drowned in this ocean once before and as she tries to swim in it again, she canât quite find it in herself to shed her life-jacket by making an oath that she canât guarantee to protect from the dangerous tides of circumstance.
And so she hopes itâs enough for Stephie as she caresses the little girlâs cheeks and says, âI promise Iâll try to stay.â
âOkay,â Stephie says softly and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, âI trust you Miss Buecks.â
Paige smiles, giving the little girl a kiss on the cheek before hoisting her up onto her lap, âdid you wake your Mama up?â
âNo. Sheâs still snoring,â Stephie giggles.Â
Paige laughs, tucking that little tidbit away to tease Azzi with later, âhow about you and I go get your Mama her favorite coffee?â
âOh thatâs nice,â Tallulah chirps from where sheâs still standing in the kitchen, âgo get coffee of course. Why would anyone stay here and help me?â
âGo ask uncle JosĂ©,â Stephie shoots the younger woman an unamused look, âisnât that what husbands are for?â
Paige stifles a grin as Tallulah narrows her eyes, waving her whisk menacingly at Stephie, âheâs not my husband yet and you watch it missy or maybe I wonât let you be a flower girl at the wedding.â
âYour wedding would be boring without me,â Stephie scoffs, âbesides Aunty Tully, weâll get you a drink too. Uncle JosĂ© always says you drink vod-ka, too much of it app-ently, but I donât know what that is,â she turns to Paige whoâs gone bright red in attempt to stop herself from keeling over with laughter, âcan we get vod-ka for Aunty Tully?â
Paige tries her best to compose herself, âmaybe weâll just get her a latte and save the vodka for later huh Tulls?â
Tallulah glares at her, flipping her off when Stephieâs gaze shifts towards the door, âjust go get the coffee Bueckers.â
***
Not that she didnât know it before, but Paige quickly realizes just how similar Stephie is to her mother while theyâre standing in front of the bakery portion of the coffeeshop and itâs been ten minutes and Stephie still hasnât decided which sweet treat sheâd like.Â
 âStephie sweetheart,â Paige says, only slightly impatient, âhow about the double fudge brownie?â
âThat sounds good,â Stephie says excitedly and then her eyes dart towards the cinnamon bun in the corner, âor maybe the ninnamon bun- no wait- Aunty Tullyâs gonna put ninnamon in the pancakes so maybe something else. Ooooh maybe a cookie but which one?â
Paige groans to herself as Stephie busies herself looking at the assortment of freshly baked cookies. The old woman over the counter, wearing a name tag saying Ruthie, shares a commiserating smile with her.Â
âMy daughter was like that too at that age. Couldnât make a decision to save her life,â Ruthie says, a fond look in her eyes while talking about her child.Â
Paige smiles, âdid she ever grow out of it?â
âWell considering we went out to dinner last night and she couldnât pick between the pepperoni and the sausage, I donât think they really grow out of it,â Ruthie winks and Paige canât help but think about Azzi and the way sheâd struggled to pick out what to wear to bed last night, staring helplessly between two shirts that practically looked the same.Â
âOh I know that look,â Ruthie says, eyes twinkling at the hopeless smile on Paigeâs face, as she tilts her head towards Stephie, âyouâre thinking about her mother huh?â
âThat obvious?â Paige blushes.Â
Ruthie shrugs, âwhat is love if it canât be seen by everyone?â
Love. The word seeps into Paigeâs veins, traveling up her bloodstreams until it claws its way into her heart, settling against her ribcage like a rock so that when she breathes, itâs all she can feel. Itâs too soon, she knows, and it defeats the purpose of going slow except- itâs not soon at all. Because this isnât a new feeling, itâs a far too familiar old one that sheâd buried as deep within her as possible but is now yearning to get out. It had never gone away, simply lingered in the back of her mind just waiting for this moment. And if sheâs honest with herself, Paige doesnât know if she should fight against it or let herself ride the waves of the before that are desperate to crash against the shore of now.Â
âMiss Buecks,â Stephie whines, âcome help me choose.â
Shooting Ruthie an apologetic look and ignoring the pit in her stomach at the elder womanâs words, Paige walks over and bends down to the little girlâs height, âhow about a chocolate chip cookie?â
âBoooooring,â Stephie crinkles her nose.Â
âPeanut butter?â
âIâm âlergic to nuts Miss Buecks,â Stephie says matter-of-factly and Paige pencils that important fact into her mindâs ever growing list of all about Stephie.
âSalted caramel crunch?âÂ
âThat sounds good,â Stephie nods, âyeah Iâll get that,â she says as she turns to Ruthie, âcould I get a salted car-mel crunch cookie please?â but Paige doesnât miss the wistful look she sends towards the rest of the cookies.Â
âStephie?â
âYes?â
âDo you want me to get you one of each?â
And sheâs absolutely going to get a disapproving glare from Azzi when she shows back up at the Fuddâs with almost a dozen cookies in hand but itâs worth it for the way Stephie immediately latches onto her thigh, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face.Â
âYouâre best-est-est-est Miss Buecks,â Stephie squeals, staring up at Paige with delight.Â
âI know,â Paige smirks, âand you better protect me from your Mama when we get back.â
Stephie nods very seriously, âof course Miss Buecks. Iâll protect you with my life.â
Paige ruffles the younger girl's hair before turning to Ruthie whoâs grinning at her, âone of every flavor of cookie you have please. Except anything that has nuts.â
âComing right up,â Ruthie winks at Paige, âyour daughter has you wrapped around her little finger huh?â
And maybe Paige should at least attempt to correct the misconception but as Stephie clings to her just a little bit tighter, she canât find it in herself to say anything but, âyeah, yeah she does.â
***
âNext time you kidnap my daughter, can you at least send me a text?â Azzi says, a grin on her lips as she opens the door to let Paige and Stephie enter back into the Fudd household.Â
âGood morning Mama,â Stephie says happily, launching herself into her motherâs arms and placing a sloppy kiss against her cheek.Â
âMorning sunshine,â Azzi laughs, âyou seem giddy this morning.â
âMiss Buecks bought me six-teen cookies and she let me eat two of them while we were dri-â Stephie pauses mid ramble, eyes widening as she dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth.Â
Paige groans as a glare overtakes Azziâs previously smiling features, âSteph what happened to protecting me?â
âIt was an aksy-dent Miss Buecks Iâm sorry,â Stephie whimpers, hurriedly cupping her motherâs face, âplease donât be angry at Miss Buecks, Mama. It was my idea.â
Azzi rolls her eyes, âI bet it was. But if you already had two cookies, you must be full? I guess that means no pancakes for you-â
âMiss Buecks forced me to eat the cookies,â Stephie cuts her off and Paige gasps at the betrayal, ânot full at all Mama because you canât get full unless you like what you eat and I didnât like those cookies at all. So I neeeeeeed pancakes.â
âTraitor,â Paige hisses at the little girl who shrugs sheepishly.Â
Stephie shoots her an apologetic smile as Azzi hides a grin against her daughterâs hair, âIâm sorry Miss Buecks but I really, really want pancakes. Iâll die if I donât get pancakes.â
âOkay drama queen,â Azzi chides fondly as she puts Stephie back on the ground, âgo get your pancakes,â and then she rounds onto Paige with a patented glare.Â
âI got you an iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,â Paige says before the younger woman can say anything, practically shoving the cold drink into her hand.Â
âSixteen cookies? Paige seriously?â Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she sips at her coffee.Â
âYou didnât see her Az,â Paige defends, âshe looked so sad when she couldnât decide.â
âJust because she looks sad doesnât mean you buy her every single cookie to make her happy,â Azzi shakes her head exasperatedly.Â
âIâd buy her the whole shop if thatâs what would make her happy,â Paige says, sincerity weaved throughout every word of the sentence.Â
âYou would, wouldnât you?â Azzi says softly, a hint of awe in her voice, âyouâre kind of a sap Paige Bueckers.â
âOnly for you and your daughter Azzi Fudd,â Paige whispers, leaning her head against the younger womanâs temple, âonly for the two of you.â
They stand there like that, barely touching beyond their foreheads, yet basking in a certain kind of intimacy that theyâve only ever found with each other. The thing is, Paigeâs senses are always heightened, every part of her always alert of whatâs going around her. Except when sheâs with Azzi. When sheâs with Azzi she can let the noise fade to the background and let everything else become a blur and simply just be with Azzi. When sheâs with Azzi, she doesnât have to worry; doesnât have to have her sword out ready for battle because she knows the younger girl will always be her shield. When sheâs with Azzi, Paige is safe.Â
Theyâre shaken from their reverie by a cough in the background and Paige reluctantly looks over her shoulder to see Jana regarding them with an amused look.Â
âGuess I missed a couple of chapters?âÂ
âShut up,â Paige grinds out, annoyed as Azzi moves out of her space, âwhat are you doing here so early El-Alfy?â
âIâm here for breakfast because Iâm basically an honorary Fudd,â Jana throws her head back before yelling, âRIGHT KATIE?â
âRight Jana,â comes the muffled confirmation from the kitchen as Jana smirks at Paige.Â
âThe better question Bueckers,â the Egyptian prods with a smirk, âis what are you doing here so early?â
âI slept ov-â Paige bites her tongue but itâs too late as Janaâs grin gets wider and next to her, Azzi lets her head drop into her hands.Â
âYou slept over? In which room?â Jana asks innocently.Â
And of course Stephie chooses exactly that moment to catch wind of the conversation, yelling from the kitchen, âshe slept with me and Mama, Aunty J.â
âThank you for telling me Stephie,â Janaâs eyes twinkle with mirth as she pulls out her phone, âoh Iâm about to make some money- hey!â
Azzi snatches the phone out of her younger teammateâs hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips as she starts walking towards the kitchen, âno phones at breakfast thank you!â
âThatâs not fair,â Jana whines sauntering after the GSV shooting guard, Paige snickering as she follows the two of them into the kitchen.Â
âLifeâs not fair. Deal with it,â Azzi glares before slipping Janaâs phone into her own pocket, âyou can have it back before you leave.â
âYâall are so mean,â Jana sulks, pouting harder when she reaches out to grab a pancake and immediately has her hand whacked by Tim.
âThat oneâs for Paige,â the older man warns sternly and Paige sticks her tongue out at her teammate as she grabs the pancake onto her place.Â
âWHAT?â Jana guffaws, âwhatâs so special about it?â
Tim shrugs, âabsolutely nothing. Just thought it would be funny to see you annoyed.â
âYâall are the worst adoptive family a player could have you know that?â Jana scolds, pressing her fists to her cheeks like sheâs barely older than Stephie, âand to think I was gonna invite the two of you,â she glares at Paige and Azzi, âto a party.â
âParty? Can I come?â Stephie asks excitedly.Â
âUnfortunately this oneâs just for adults kiddo. And itâs not really a party,â Jana explains, âme and Joyce thought it would be nice to do a little team-bonding, especially for you P. Drinks at the bar next weekend?â
âSounds good,â Paige confirms, âweâll be there!â
âOh itâs âweâ now is it?â Jana teases, âyou guys gonna come together?â
âNo,â Azzi says at the same time as a profound âyesâ leaves Paigeâs mouth. The two of them stare at each other with questioning looks and Paige feels a heavy pit settling in her stomach. Rationally, she knows Azziâs probably right. No part of going slow includes going to a party with their teammates together, especially not when theyâre trying to keep whatever it is theyâre doing on the down low. But thereâs something about being a secret again, that raises a bitter taste of what killed us then could kill us now in her mouth.Â
âAwkward,â Jon whistles slowly, only to be met with a simultaneous slap on the back of his head from both his mother and Tallulah.Â
âI mean- I would have to drop Stephie off here- or umm- at Colleen's so like- logically- practically- uh- it um- it wouldnât make sense for us to go together,â Azzi says and Paige has to refrain herself from calling it a bullshit explanation.Â
Instead she gives the younger girl a tight-lipped nod, âright yeah-wouldnât make sense for us to go together. Obviously,â gritting her teeth and desperate to change the topic, she turns to Jana, âwill the whole team be there?â
âA couple of them arenât currently in the Bay but yeah most of them,â Jana shrugs.Â
âOh,â Stephie claps excitedly, âwill Aunty ChĂ©rie be there? Is she back yet?â
Paige narrows her eyes as both Jana and Azzi exchange looks, âwhoâs Aunty ChĂ©rie?â
âAunty ChĂ©rieâs the best,â Stephie gushes, âsheâs really nice and pretty and she calls me âmon chĂ©rieâ,â the little girl does her best attempt at a vaguely french accent and realization starts to claw at Paigeâs mind, âso I call her Aunty ChĂ©rie. Sheâs Mamaâs best friend on the team.â
Paige tries and fails not to grimace at the sentence; the idea of anyone else being Azziâs best friend feels like nails being screwed into her skin.Â
âIâm your Mamaâs best friend on the team,â Jana butts in, trying to rescue Azzi from the hole her daughterâs about to dig her into, glancing worriedly between the two former huskies who are doing their best not to look at each other.Â
âIf you say so Aunty J,â Stephie concedes, âbut you didnât answer my question. Is Aunty ChĂ©rie back?â
âYeah she- um ClĂ©mence I mean- is coming back for a little bit next week so um-â Jana swallows, clearly not having thought the uncomfortableness of the situation through, âyeah sheâll uh- sheâll probably be there.â
Stephie lets out a whoop of excitement and Paige feels it burn a hole in her stomach. She knows she has no right to be upset at the idea of Stephie being as enamored by another one of Azziâs teammates but something about it makes her feel queasy inside. Because ClĂ©mence Martens isnât just a teammate. Paige doesnât know the exact history there; sheâd never had the right to ask about it but sheâs seen the way ClĂ©mence looks at Azzi and she knows she doesnât like it one bit.
âI thought ClĂ©mence was being traded to Atlanta?â Paige keeps her voice low as she leans into Jana. Sheâs not sure if Stephie knows the news yet and despite the jealousy thatâs blooming in every crevice of her body, she doesnât want to hurt the little girl by accidentally announcing it to her, âwhyâs she coming?â
Jana sighs, âJoyce invited her cause she was gonna be in town. You know they donât know about-â the taller woman gestures between Paige and Azzi, â-all of this so. Itâs just for one night Paige.â
âRight,â Paige nods, eyes locking with Azziâs across the table as the younger woman fidgets with the âSâ necklace around her neck and shoots Paige a timid attempt at a reassuring smile, âjust one night.â
***
August 2028
USA 68 Â Â Â Â France 64
The entire arena is abuzz for the final 20 seconds of a grueling semi-final match between the storied USA Womenâs Basketball team trying to keep their dynasty alive and a vindictive French team eager to avenge their last heartbreaking Olympic loss. France has possession of the ball, shot clock turned off, and Paige has been tasked with guarding ClĂ©mence Martens. The woman in front of her, a bench player for the Golden State Valkyries, had never seemed like much of a threat to Paige when theyâd met during the W season, but seemed to have become a whole other beast when representing her nation. ClĂ©mence is currently leading the French team in assists and is only behind Gabby William in points. Paige keeps herself glued to the woman as she tries to get herself free for the inbound.Â
The inbounder realizes after a couple of seconds that the French coachâs advice to get ClĂ©mence the ball wouldnât be possible and instead the ball ends up in the hands of Iliana Rupert instead. As gameplay resumes, Paige does exactly as sheâs supposed to and she can tell that sheâs getting under the French womanâs skin as ClĂ©mence curses to herself in her native language. Paige bites back a smirk, secretly pleased at having riled her competitor up. The ball continues to pass around the French players, time ticking away, but the USAâs defense doesnât allow a good shot until Gabby throws up a miraculous jumper with a second left on the shot clock.Â
And of course, in a way thatâs perhaps too reminiscent of how France had lost in 2024, it goes in.Â
But itâs not enough and Paige feels blood rush to her ears as the entire arena, decked out in red white and blue, roars with triumph, celebrating the world's greatest team returning back to the finals stage. Thereâs still one more game but this win is special. Theyâd been down by 11 points at the half and Paige could almost picture the headlines ready to write themselves about the streaks that could be broken if they lost. But she was no stranger to the pressure that came from playing for a team with a deep history and it had been her and Stewie, partially motivated by their former college head coach frowning at them from the sidelines, that had spear-headed a 23-3 run at the beginning of the 3rd quarter. The USA womenâs team hadnât looked back since and now they were one more step away being golden again.Â
âYou did it,â Olivia screams, running into Paigeâs arms as friends and family start to gather on the court, âIâm so proud of you!â
âThanks Olivia-â Paige is about to say more when the familiar back of someoneâs head catches her attention and, like they always seem to when sheâs around, all the words die on the tip of her tongue.Â
Azzi.Â
Paige couldâve sworn sheâd seen the woman in the crowd at some point but sheâd chalked it up to a trick of the light manipulating her eyes into seeing what her heart desperately wanted. But as she watches the woman sheâd once imagined celebrating all of her victories with, slowly brush away the tears of someone elseâs loss, Paige canât help but wish that it had been a trick of the light after all. She feels suffocated and she canât tell if itâs from how tight Oliviaâs holding her or if itâs because ClĂ©mence is burying her head into the space between Azziâs neck and shoulder, a space that Paige used to mark as hers. And then Azzi looks above ClĂ©menceâs shoulder. Dark brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears as they lock onto watery sky blue ones. Theyâre standing in other peopleâs arms and they really should look away but how can they when looking into each otherâs eyes feels a little bit like finally coming up for air. And Paige realizes that what sheâs really being suffocated by is the regret of youâre supposed to be holding me and iâm supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us.Â
Azzi lets go of ClĂ©mence first, soothingly rubbing the francophoneâs back as she makes her way over to congratulate the USA team, starting with Cam and Aliyah. Paige pulls away from Olivia, oblivious to the way annoyance flits across her wifeâs features as she catches sight of Azzi. No one but the blonde notices how hesitant Azziâs steps are, how she carefully pauses a little longer than necessary with everyone else until she finally reaches Paige, managing to give her a small but sincere smile. Olivia wraps a possessive hand around Paigeâs bicep and the blonde fights the urge to shake it off when she notices Azziâs eyes flickering to it for a brief second before coming back up to her face.Â
âCongratulations Paige,â the formality in Azziâs voice feels like acid pelting against Paigeâs skin, âyou were really good tonight.â
âThank you,â Paige smiles politely, âit was pretty stressful there for a second but Iâm glad we got the dub. But it um-â she hesitates, unsure if she should say the next part, âit wouldâve been nice if you were out there with me- with us I mean. We couldâve used your shooting.â
âMaybe next time,â Azzi gives her a half-grin.Â
âOh I donât know about that,â Olivia says airily, sharp nails digging a little too roughly into Paigeâs skin as her grip tightens further, âthereâs plenty of talent up and coming in the next 4 years.â
This is a side of Olivia that Paige is only just beginning to unveil, the side of Olivia that makes snide bitchy comments with a saccharine voice. And Paige really should let it go at this moment, make a mental note to speak with her wife about it later instead of jumping in. But she can see the insecurities brimming in Azziâs eyes and the words tumble out before Paige can stop them.Â
âYeah but no one better than Azzi.â
Olivia stiffens, âright unless sheâs injured or pregnant or something. Youâre prone to those right?â
âOlivia,â Paige hisses.Â
âI didnât mean it offensively,â Olivia feigns innocence and a bitter mix of irritation and anger coils itself around Paigeâs ribcage, âjust something to think about.â
Azziâs quiet for a second before a sugary smile, laced with poison, inches itself onto her face, âIâve only been pregnant once and I havenât been injured since college which I would expect someone in sports media to know but,â the brunetteâs eyes flash dangerously, âI suppose thatâs something someone with national media credentials would know, not just a mere local beat writer for Dallasâs fifth most read newspaper,â Azzi turns to Paige, sarcasm morphing into something far more genuine, âcongratulations again. Iâm really happy for you Paige.â
***
The Reynolds-Bueckers hotel room is a pathetic hot mess that night. Oliviaâs livid at Paige and Paige is livid at the stupid #ClĂ©zzi tag on tiktok. Sheâs no stranger to fan edits and sheâs definitely no stranger to ship edits and so when the first tiktok appears on her for you page, she knows better than to click on it. She knows better but she does it anyway. And suddenly she finds herself sucked into montage after montage of so-called moments between ClĂ©mence and Azzi that fans had noticed and documented. The clips are bad enough themselves but itâs the captions, bold declarations of look at the way she looks at her; no one can love azzi the way clĂ©mence loves her, that really piss her off. ClĂ©mence might look at Azzi like sheâs made of stars but Paige knows that she looks at Azzi like she is the moon, Paigeâs moon. As Oliviaâs anger bounces off the walls, her rant about disrespect starts to mesh with the audio of the edits that continue to play on the blondeâs phone and Paige wonders if this her God-designed personal hell.Â
âAre you even fucking listening to me Paige?â Olivia yells, forcing Paige to look up at her wife.Â
âWhat do you want me to say Olivia?â Paige asks tiredly.Â
âWhat do I want you to say? Well nothing now Paige. She said all of that shit to me and you were silent then so Iâm not expecting you to say anything of meaning now either.â
âYouâre the one who poked her first-â
âJesus fucking christ,â Olivia laughs maniacally, âyouâre really gonna do this?â
âIâm not doing anything,â Paige protests.Â
âYouâre defending her,â Olivia yells, âyouâre my wife and youâre defending her. Youâre defending your ex. Can you seriously not see whatâs wrong with this picture.â
âOlivia,â Paige sighs, eyes gazing down at her phone where another fuckass ClĂ©zzi edit has started to play and she rapidly scrolls past it, âitâs been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. I have practice tomorrow and the gold medal game-â
âRight fucking basketball. Again,â Olivia rolls her eyes.Â
âWhat-â
âItâs fine,â Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose, the fight draining from her voice, âyouâre right go to bed. Iâm not- Iâm not feeling great so Iâll sleep out here tonight. Wouldnât- wouldnât want you to get sick before the gold medal game.â
âOlivia,â Paige says half-heartedly, taking a timid step towards the woman in front of her.
âItâs fine,â Olivia says, âjust- just go to bed Paige.â
Paige knows that the last thing she should do is actually listen to her wife. And she knows that if it was Azzi -she hates herself for even thinking this way- she wouldnât walk away. If it was Azzi, Paige wouldâve pulled her into her arms, held her there and made her talk because they both hated going to bed angry. But well if it was Azzi, this whole situation wouldnât exist in the first place.Â
And so she ends up in bed alone, still scrolling through random tiktoks in an effort to not have to deal with all the voices in her head, until suddenly she stumbles on a video captioned and at the end of the day sheâll still always be looking at her. Itâs a video taken today. Paige is holding Olivia and Azziâs holding ClĂ©mence but theyâre staring at each other. And Paige thinks that whoever wrote the caption, had probably gotten it right. At the end of day, sheâll always look for Azzi. She just doesnât know if sheâll find her ever again.Â
***
USA 102 Â Â Â Â Australia 73Â
Paige can already taste the feeling of a gold medal around her neck as she takes a seat, the crowd roaring with applause as Coach Lawson empties her bench. Thereâs only fifteen seconds left in the game and her knees are bouncing in anticipation, ready to celebrate a moment sheâs been dreaming of for god knows how long. Paige scans the crowd, not even pretending to look for anyone but Azzi and she canât help the smile that erupts on her face when she spots the brunette with her fingers crossed, a brilliant grin directed in Paigeâs direction as she mouths iâm so proud of you.Â
Olivia isnât here, claiming she was too sick to come tonight. Paige thinks she probably should be more upset about that. She thinks the whole thing is probably a ruse that Olivia had concocted to get Paige to beg her to come, to get Paige to show her that she wanted her wife there. The other woman's face had fallen when Paige hadnât really reacted to the announcement, simply pressed her lips to her forehead and mumbled a feeble hope you feel better before leaving. Paige thinks this is probably the first sign they're falling apart. She thinks she should probably care about that a little bit more too.Â
But the first thing her eyes had landed on once sheâd entered the court, was Azziâs face in the lower bowl and everything else had ceased to exist. Her first petty thought had been a ha! fuck you to the damned ClĂ©zzi shippers who claimed Azzi wouldnât show up today, too busy consoling ClĂ©mence. They didn't know Azzi was all-american. Her second thought, the one that felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around her soul, was that of course Azziâs here. Because Azzi had been there every time Paige achieved a milestone and even if they were barely a shadow of what they used to be, it's only right that Azzi is still here.Â
Australia doesnât even bother taking a shot, bowing out gracefully and the buzzer rings.Â
The entire arena bursts into confetti and music as the USA Womenâs Basketball Team clinches yet another Olympic Gold Medal.Â
Paige doesnât know who sheâs hugging, lost in a sea of red uniforms as she feels herself floating through her teammates. They end up in a huddle, screaming and she can barely make out whoâs saying what but it doesnât matter. The chaos has never felt so fucking cathartic.
As everyone else disperses to find their families, Paigeâs eyes land where they always seem to: on Azzi. And maybe she shouldnât do it, maybe she should think again but fuck it Paige Bueckers is an olympic gold medalist and sheâs going to share this moment with the first person sheâd ever won a medal for this country with. Her legs move of their own accord, walking and then running and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she realizes that Azziâs moving towards her too.Â
âYou did it. Oh my god Paige you did it,â Azzi squeals as they crash into each other in the middle of the court, her arms instinctively going around Paigeâs neck as the blonds wraps her hands around Azziâs waist, âIâm so fucking proud of you. I knew you could do it Paige.â
âIâm so glad youâre here,â Paige breathes out, âI just- it wouldnât be the same winning without you.â
Azziâs eyes soften, âI came for you. I donât know if Iâm allowed to say that but- Iâm here for you.â
âGood don't want you to be here for anybody else,â Paige tightens her hold on the younger womanâs waist, âweâre gonna do it together next time okay. You and me, weâre gonna be golden together.â
And they both know that theyâre saying words they shouldnât say. That when they break apart from this moment, theyâll have to walk away. But for now, being in each otherâs arms is the only thing that feels right, that feels golden.
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TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME. iâm not scared of it, she ainât either.
CHAPTER SIX! pairing, paige bueckers x teammate!oc. notes, hey⊠writers block got my ass but iâm backkk. decided this fic will be split into two separate parts (ish) the 22-23 season is mostly just lore filling but hopefully still enjoyable, and then the second will be 23-24. enjoy sugarsss warnings, sexual content.
october, 2022
âshots on me!â
my head shoots up to find the source of the sound, and of course, itâs paige. sheâs basking in the sudden attention so well youâd be surprised that we had to convince her to come. the whole table cheers like itâs the greatest news theyâve heard all night, and i watch, a faint smile on my face as she strolls over to the bar, keeping her promise.
i lean back in my chair, adjusting my neck that had just been previously broken to look back at her. i glance over at the propped up phone in front of ice, the tiktok livestream running with a small handful of views climbing by the minute. i grin, dramatic, before draping both of my arms over iceâs shoulders and resting my head against her, leaning into the moment. âguys, pour one up for isuneh staying responsible tonight!â i joke, exaggerating my voice.
ice laughs, nudging me with her elbow but not enough to push me off. âyou gotta chill,â she says, turning slightly toward the camera with a smirk. âyou see what i have to deal with? sana thinks sheâs funny.â
i glare at her, playfully removing my arms from around her. âknow so,â i retort.
before i can settle back into the noise of the room, nika and aubrey have made their way over, and are now fully invested in entertaining the growing comments. they start playing it up, making faces and gesturing wildly at the camera while ice chuckles, leaning into it all. sober or not, it was really easy to have a good time with this team.
i let myself sink into my own world for a moment, head spinning just slightly as i pull out my phone again, this time to stare at the birthday post iâd put up for paige earlier. i didnât want to stare at it, but it had been getting a lot of traction. the first slide is a video from one of our late-night sessions at the gymâa grainy shot of paige casually sinking a full-court shot, her back to the camera. sheâd turned around just in time to see the ball swish clean through the net, flashing that smug smile she always gave when she knew she was about to show off. it was late, maybe around midnight, and i remember being just tired enough to think i mightâve imagined it if i hadnât caught it on film.
when the video ended, my other post appeared. it was a photo from the first official day of practice earlier in october that the media team had took and posted. paige, clad in her #5 workout tee had my head snuggled in between her arms, smiling wide as ever, while i on the other hand had one hand wrapped around her torso, the other on my side, smiling all picture-perfect.
a great resemblance of our dynamic if you asked me.
the caption had been simple enough. happy birthday to this blonde lady i found. backcourt next year will go braaazzzy đ. i didnât think much of it, really, but the more i thought about it, the more insane it mustâve looked that sana caruso was now all buddy-buddy with paige bueckers.
not acquainted, friends.
i smiled at it for another beat before locking my phone, leaning back against the chair with a sigh. iâd been distant most of the night, i suppose. practice earlier hadnât exactly gone the way i wanted it to, and it was messing with me. paige mightâve been injured, but i was starting, and expectations were highâhigher than usual this season, which i hadnât completely came to terms with yet, and i needed to. soon.
âsana, youâre going to be a huge part of this team this year. we need you to step upânot just as a scorer, but as a leader.â genoâs voice was gruff, his eyes on mine. âyouâve got it in you, but youâve been holding back. letâs see the player we recruited. the one we know you are.â
sure it wasnât meant to be much more than a pep talk, but iâm way too much of an over thinker for words like those not to stick. i have been holding back. i do need to step up for a team that had just become mine.
lost in that thought, i didnât notice paige approaching until a shot glass slid in front of me, barely stopping before it hit my hand.
âi meant you too, ruso,â she said, a sly grin spreading across her face as she leaned in, making sure i knew she was talking to me.
i grinned at her, realizing i hadnât been drinking as much as the others tonight. not that it was a bad thingâafter practice earlier, i needed to keep my head straightâbut then again, this was paigeâs birthday. maybe it was time to let loose a little, and paige was good at that.
âwhat is it?â i asked, lifting the glass to my lips and tipping it back easily before getting an answer.
much to my dismay, i probably shouldâve waited for paigeâs response. vodka. i coughed lightly as the burn hit, squeezing my eyes shut for a second as the heat rushed through me. of course, sheâd pick the strongest thing on the menu. i shouldâve known better.
paige laughed, eyes following mine as she watched me recover. âyou good, ma? thought you could hang with me.â
i shook my head, glaring at her. âi can hang. just didnât expect gasoline.â
she leaned in closer, her breath warm against my neck. âthatâs the point. birthday girl gets the good stuff.â i can feel her eyes on me, following my movements as she pipes up, âwhy you been wall sittinâ all night?â
i chuckle, looking up at her taller figure through my lashes. only for a moment though. my attention drifted back to the empty shot glass in front of me, twirling it absentmindedly between my fingers. âdonât worry about me,â i shoo her playfully. âmy phoneâs been blowing up, though. letâs talk about that,â i then state simply, raising an eyebrow.
paige smiles smugly, letting out a breathy laugh. âyou know they eat that shit up.â
i smile, tooâshaking my head. âyeah, maybe. or they just like you too much.â
paige grabs hold of the shot glass, forcing my attention to advert to her. âyou like me too much.â
our eyes met, and i caught how she sized me up. her blue eyes were dangerously low, almost hungry. the heat from the vodka wasnât just in my throat anymore; it was creeping up my neck, and i didnât know if it was from the alcohol or from the way paige was watching me. her tongue darted out, swiping across her lips, and i needed to get out of this chair.
like, now.
i swallowedânot visibly as i pushed past the sudden tension and mumbled, âcâmon.â i motioned toward the bar. paige smirked, lips glistening from her spit as she held her hand out for me to take, and i hesitated for just a second before sliding my hand into hers.
she helped me down from the bar stool easily, her opposite steadying me, and then we were strolling over together, her fingers still loosely wrapped around mine. it was so normal, like it didnât mean anything, but we both knew it did.
we strolled over to the bar, and paige was quick to order another round. things felt relatively normal at first, just the two of us, but only got worse after every shot. iâd even taught paige that the real culprit for a night like this wasnât vodka but tequila. naturally, sheâd laughed me off, but the alcohol in my bloodstream had me ordering a mojito, daring her to try it. paige, never one to back down from a challenge, grabbed the glass from my hand before i could even take a sip.
âyouâve been over here way too long,â i said, my voice lower now, the words slipping out with a hint of something i couldnât quite control. i leaned against the bar, chin propped up in my hand. âitâs your birthday.â
paige raised a brow. her back was against the bar, her eyes flashing as she looked ahead, shrugging. âiâm exactly where i wanna be.â
i licked my lips. âright. and thatâs stuck over here with me?â i shouldnât have asked. i knew the answer.
paige turned toward me, leaning one arm against the counter, her body now fully angled in my direction. âyeah, somethinâ like that. that a problem?â
her gaze dropped to my lips for a second, just long enough to make me forget how to breathe properly. i shifted, trying to keep cool, but she was too damn close now. âguess not,â i muttered.
âgood,â she murmured back immediately, her lips curving into that half-smile. there was this constant back and forth between usâlike some game of who would have the upper hand of the day, and right now, it was paige. it was all paige.
her eyes flicked down again, and i internally wanted to curse at her. my throat tightenedâbut i couldnât look away. âpaigeââ i started, and my voice was barely there.
âyeah?â she asked, eyes still locked on me. every inch of her body screamed focus, intent.
âwe should regroup.â i nodded towards our teammates, but paige was stilled.
âright.â
i swallowed hard, knowing exactly where this was headed, feeling the pull in the pit of my stomach. âwe canât do this here,â i whispered, a last-ditch effort to keep my head straight as i began chewing on my bottom lip. we were even closer now, and i couldnât comprehend when that had happened either.
paige smirked, tilting her head and blinking slowly. the gold chain that sat so nicely on her chest swung slightly as she shifted her weight. my mind was racing, trying to remind myself of all the reasons why this was a bad ideaâwhy i shouldnât, why we couldnât. âwhy not?â
i swallowed. my throat was dry. âpeople. the team.â
paige furrowed her eyebrows, nodding like it was obvious. âoh, yeah. for sure.â but she didnât budge. and i swore she was moving closer.
before i could stop myself, i sighed out, almost dreamily, like iâd had some pressure built up. âbut i wanna.â damn that fucking vodka.
paige nodded, eyes glued to my lips. âmhm? wanna what, ma?â
and before i could come up with a response that was any less desperate than the last to redeem myself, before i could stop myself, i closed the gap.
âââ
her lips were soft. softer than that night in the car if that were possible.
we were stumbling, half-laughing, half-drunkenly colliding down an empty hallway, our hands everywhere and nowhere all at once. my back hit the wall first, and her body pressed into mine, the weight of her against me felt⊠perfect. sanaâs hands were in my hair, pulling slightly, like she absolutely needed to feel me, and i wasnât about to complain.
i could feel the cool tile behind me, but all that mattered was the heat between us. my hand slid up her neck, fingers resting just under her jaw, and i heard her gasp against my lips. fucking perfect.
âfuck,â i muttered between kisses, my voice a little more breathless than i wanted it to be. âyou kiss like you been waitinâ on this.â
she laughed softly, the sound vibrating against my lips. âmaybe i have.â
i pulled back just enough to see her eyes, barely able to catch my breath. my hand tightened around her neck as i leaned in again, dragging my lips across hers, speaking right against her skin. her skin was damp, mine too, probably. âyou know you couldâve had this whenever you wanted it, baby.â
she didnât pull back, just let her hands explore the length of my torso. âcouldnât have. youâre you.â sanaâs grip on my hips tightened, pulling me flush against her as she pressed her lips back to mine. this time, there was no holding back. the kiss deepened, hungry, like she was making up for all the times she thought she couldnât. i let her take what she wanted, but damn if i wasnât right there with her, needing her just as badly.
âbathroom?â i mumbled. my mouth moved to her neck, peppering kisses down her skin, tasting the heat of her pulse.
sanaâs breath hitched, and she nodded, her hands gripping the back of my shirt. âbathroom, yeah.â
luckily, it was empty. it was a thursday after all. we barely made it inside before i was hoisting her up, my hands gripping her thighs as she arched on the counter. the brighter light in here felt like a spotlight, like there was no hiding nowânot that either of us wanted to. her breath hitched as i moved my mouth lower, kissing down her neck, my fingers sliding into the waistband of her jeans and hastily pulling them down.
i dropped to my knees without warning, and i could feel sana tense under my hands, her breath coming out in quick, shallow bursts as i knelt in front of her. our eyes locked, and i swear iâd never seen a prettier sight. my fingers skimmed up her thighs, spreading them wider, my lips brushing just below her waistband. i didnât say anythingâdidnât need to. her own hands gripped the counter beside her, knuckles turning white, like she was holding herself steady for what was about to come next.
i dipped my head, my mouth meeting her with no more waiting, no teasing. sanaâs body jolted, and the sound she madeâit sent a jolt straight through me. she tried to stifle it, biting her lip, but there was no hiding how much she wanted this.
her hips shifted forward instinctively, and i didnât let up, pulling her closer, needing to feel every little reaction i could get. i let her legs drape over my shoulders, my hands gripping her thighs tighter as i took my timeâand God, does she taste like a fucking fruit.
i felt her hands in my hair, tugging at the strands, and thatâs when i pulled back just enough to speak, my voice low and rough, âhad me thinkinâ you were innocentâŠâ i couldnât help the smirk that tugged at my lips as i dove right back in, the taste of her driving me crazy. ânah⊠you a freak.â
sanaâs breath hitched again as her head fell back against the mirror, eyes squeezing shut. âpaige,â she whined out. her expression moved into a laugh as she tugged at my hair a little harder, like sheâd just comprehended what iâd said. âshut the fuck up,â she managed, her voice shaky, breaking in the middle like she was losing control.
i chuckled against her, looking up, the vibration of it making her squirm. i didnât stop. not until she was too far gone to care about anyone else but us.
âyes, maâam.â
november, 2022
paige bueckers is eye-fucking me from across the room, and iâm not sure how to feel about it.
weâre sitting in the film room, going over footage from yesterdayâs home-opener, a complete blowout. 98 to 39. my stats were setting the bar incredibly high for the season, and as much as i hate to admit it, the sex definitely helped. paige helped.
but why did it have to be her?
coach was talking, his voice fading in and out as he pointed at the screen, circling plays and highlighting our best moments, but my mind was elsewhere. i glanced over in her direction, prepared to make some kind of face that would shoo her off, but she was already looking away, pretending to be interested in genoâs lecture. like she hadnât just been burning holes through me five seconds ago.
instead, i caught nikaâs eyes, and she had this mischievous look on her face, one eyebrow quirked as she stuck her tongue out playfully. it was enough to pull a giggle out of me, and i quickly covered my mouth, trying to keep it discreet. nika grinned wider, clearly pleased with herself.
eventually, geno wrapped everything up, and everyone started to head out. either to class, or any other relevant plans, but there was a 99% chance weâd be back in each otherâs apartments at some point tonight. perks of getting housing in the exact same complex of your team.
i grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i waltzed toward the door. i was ready to get out of there and clear my head, but just as i reached the hallway, i heard footsteps behind me. paige. of course.
âheaded somewhere, ruso?â paigeâs voice came from just behind me.
i glanced over my shoulder, smirking. âlibrary back on campus to study. whatâs your excuse?â
she shrugged, stepping closer, and for a second, i thought she mightâve followed me just for this. âi gotta hit PT a few doors down.â
i glanced down at her knee, but i didnât say anything. paige didnât talk about her injury often, but she didnât have to. her comeback was the only thing that mattered. getting healthy and back on the right track. âright, gotta keep those muscles working,â i replied, playing into that teasing tone she held.
âseeeee, exactly,â she shot back, grinning from ear to ear. âespecially since you been keeping me busy. canât have a repeat ofââ
i throw a hand over her mouth, glancing back to make sure no one was behind us. everyone mustâve taken the shorter exit; i was practically walking her to physical therapy at this point.
paige, never one to let an opportunity slide, licked my hand, making me jump back with a startled laugh as she giggled. âpaige!â i yelped, immediately wiping her slobber on her own arm, in which she gradually accepted.
a literal kid.
âmy bad, go ahead and finish,â she urged.
âwe need some rules.â i looked to her, and she didnât look any bit of phased.
that was before she raised her eyebrows, interest clearly piqued. âthatâs necessary?â
i began to chew on my bottom lip. âi mean, iâve never done this before. and you seem⊠i donât know. experienced.â
she laughed, eyes widening in shock, but i swear it was fake. âyou tryna call me a slut?â
there was a brief silence, and i met her gaze, unable to suppress a smirk. âif the shoe fits.â
her mouth fell agape, although i wasnât sure why it was such a surprise. wasnât she the one practically engaged in hookup culture? âsorry? i donât think i heard you correctly.â
âif the kobeâs fit, bueckers!â i yelled into her ear.
she pulled back, laughter spilling out of her as she shook her head, clearly caught off guard. âwowww, okay. i see how it is.â
i rolled my eyes at her playfully, struggling to get back on topic. âlook, all iâm saying is that if weâre gonna keep doing this,â i continued, âi need to know whatâs off-limits.â
âlike what?â she pressed.
i thought for a moment, letting her words settle in for a beat. âlike, are we keeping it casual? or should i be expecting breakfast in bed after a night of⊠whatever this is?â
paige chuckled, her eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before she looked back at me. âi mean, iâd love to make you breakfast, but thatâs only if youâre willing to stay the night.â
what did that even mean? thatâs not fucking casual at all. was she just joking? âmaybe i am.â my response was cautious, although my heart was racing a bit at the thought. at least my brain was still quick-witted. âbut letâs make sure weâre on the same page first.â
she nodded, a serious expression overtaking her normally playful for just a second. we stopped in front of the PT room, and i glanced inside before giving her a look, indicating that i should probably go.
paige licked her lips, tilting her head up in my direction as she slung the physical therapy door open. âaight, fair enough. iâll call you later.â
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers x reader#uconn x reader#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers headcannons#paige bueckers uconn#uconn#paige bueckers fluff#paige bueckers smut#paige x reader#tcptg#wlw fanfic#wlw smut#wlw post#wlw blog#lgbtq fanfiction#lgbtq#lgbtqia#my fic
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Little pieces here and there (1)
Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: two, three, four, five
Word Count: 2,6K (i was inspired by god itself)
Warnings: none, lot of context (i promise the next chapter will have way less filling), light flirting
A/N: I HAVE ALREADY THOUGHT ABOUT AT LEAST 5 CHAPTERS MORE, I HOPE SOMEONE LIKES THIS FIRST ONE BECAUSE I'M ON MY KNEES FOR THIS DAMN CLOWN. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in other parts! (Side note: i'm spanish, so if there's some mistakes, i'm trully sorry, i don't have beta readers).
It's not enough to suddenly find herself locked in a box with 3 idiots she met a matter of hours ago, no; To make it worse, as it could not be otherwise, it turns out that she is in a bloody circus, ''kidnapped'' by a band of pirates that she recognizes as soon as she sees the red and white tent over their heads, the distressed faces of the poor people that make up the audience, and the costumes of the band around them.
She sighs, and wonders what the hell she's doing there despite knowing perfectly well what kind of decisions have led her to that damned place. Wanna know what happened? Let's recap, shall we?
(Y/N) (S/N). That name doesn't sound familiar, right? Very few know it but the reputation that accompanies the person who responds to it is very famous throughout the 4 seas. She is not a bounty hunter, nor a marine, neither a pirate or a pirate hunter, like the green-haired hottie with whom she finds herself in such trouble, or a thief, like the ginger who she bet, will escape running without looking back at the slightest opportunity she finds.
No, she's a mercenary. She doesn't work solely for money, otherwise she would go against the most bloodthirsty and ruthless of each sea, and that doesn'tt interest her, because she would put herself on the radar of both the pirates and the marines.
No, she is contacted through different channels, none of them direct, and if the job interests her, amuses her, or even piques her curiosity, she accept it. She goes after all kinds of people, whether they are pirates or marines, gangsters at the top of the terror scale or criminals who, like her, tried to keep a low profile.
However, and as we were saying, despite trying to remain anonymous, she is good at her job, a born strategist with an incredible facility to adapt and blend in with her surroundings to sneak into the most remote places, so her existence inevitably began to be noticed along the seas, rumors about this young mercenary with an angelic face, who only responded to her own morals and of whom few escaped to tell the tale.
And this is how she met that group of weirdos who found each others through the power of the plot's convenience; her last assignment was to steal the map from the Grand Line. There are not many, these kept safe and protected in large fortresses throughout the globe, and among all those that she could have tried to steal, she made the horrible decision of going for the one that was closest to her, encountering those three idiots in the crossfire of the disaster that unfolded in Shells Town.
How did she end up giving up the assignment and at that precise moment there, with them? Simple: Luffy piqued her curiosity. And there are few things stronger than (Y/N)'s curiosity.
"Hey, I know you. I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town, you're the clown guy. Umm, uh⊠Binky, right?" Luffy exclaimed, as confident of himself as usual.
Buggy, she mentally corrected, arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at the same time the clown corrected loudly and dramatically listed his many nicknames. Which she was sure, only he called himself.
''Wow, you have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are.â The audience gasp. There's confusion in the boy's face, and an almost psychopatic tic in the clown's one. ''What did you just say?'' Buggy asks lowly. ''Just that everyone knows who you are.'' Luffy repeats.
''Nose!? Are you making fun of my nose!?ââ
Then came the slap, like the one someone usually gives when a friend is trying to steal their food or touch something they definitely shouldn't. Buggy is killing the straw hat boy with his eyes but the gesture is so⊠innocent. She expected threats with knives, to be honest.
And because of the unexpected, she almost let a laugh escape in the form of a cough but she controlled herself fast enough to not grab unnecessary attention to her.
''What's real is...'' Buggy resumes the conversation, getting some distance with Luffy to walk around the rest too. ââIâve been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe-Hand moronâŠââ (Y/N) sees how he approaches her, but she didn't expect him to close the distance between each other so much, his nose almost touching her own, sharp blue eyes fixed on her from a slightly lower perspective. The truth is... that she also doesn't know how to tell if that nose is real or not, but now she really wants to touch it to find out. Dear God, what a realistic texture. Itâs incredible.
Pressing her lips together in a contained expression as she shakes her head, she raises an eyebrow, letting him know that the joke wasn't as funny as he hoped, and he clucks, accepting defeat in such good humor that no one would say, that is a kidnapping and someone would end up dead by the end of the day.
She heard of him. His reward was not one of the highest but neither one of those that go unnoticed in the East Blue. He was also an eccentric, of course people talked about the blue-haired, red-nosed clown who terrified his victims in a macabre way. Those who survived ended up traumatized.
He is, or at least looks, younger than she imagined, and he fit right in with the urban legends of evil clowns kidnapping children and then dismembering them. She wonders, silently, thoughtful eyes scanning his face and body language from a distance, if this is some softie on the inside with high aspirations in life who was unfortunate enough to bump into someone who traumatized him and hence all this show and facade of the cruel and heartless clown -to protect himself as the good cliché he seems- or if, on the contrary, he is, simply and plainly, a yandere who craves attention no matter how he has to obtain it.
If she remembers correctly, there was also a rumor that he ate a devil fruit. Just like Luffy, which it doesn't take long for the clown to discover after Zoro tries to save the situation by showing off his reputation -obviously it doesn't work- and Nami does exactly what (Y/N) predicted. Not her fault, either, she doesn't owe any of them anything at all.
''Okay. Here ends the theatrics.ââ The lights go out and itâs then that everyone can small the disaster in the air. A chill runs down the back of (Y/N), who tends to infiltrate without being seen and avoids, whenever possible, a direct encounter; hand-to-hand combat is not exactly his specialty. And given the circumstances is impossible for her to know if the daggers she usually hides in the side of his combat boots -for emergencies like this one- are still there. ''I know one of you has my map, and I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?â
How long were they unconscious before? Enough to hijack the ship, get to land, and move 4 dead weight bodies to that circus, locking them in a box. By that point she would bet some member of the gang would have thoroughly searched the ship, and them too. Disgusting.
Buggy takes a last, attentive look at both Zoro and Nami, ruling out that one of the two has the map because when the girl tried to flee, Luffy was not shocked thinking that perhaps she would steal it from him. Which leaves the two of them, Luffy and her, alone with him.
''So, please'' the clown gestures to his subordinates with his head. ''make these two guests uncomfortable in the green room. Iâm gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal andâŠââ His eyes jump to her, tilting his head to the side with genuine curiosity. ''this beauty that was incapable of taking her eyes off me.''
Fuck. Was it that obvious?
''Doll, you are the only one who hasn't opened your mouth yet and I don't think it's because youâre a shy little flower.'' He begins, circling around her like an animal hunting its prey, analyzing it, hoping to see a chink of weakness to attack. ''Are you bored?'' He asks almost in a whisper near her ear. ''Is that it? Are you so, so bored that you don't think it's worth enough interacting with the rest of us?'' Breaking away from her when he realizes she doesn't falter, he smiles a huge, threatening smile, looking her up and down in such a way that it almost makes her feel dirty. "Or maybe you're the one who has my map, and you're quiet to try not to attract /my/ attention."
She? The map? Wearing such tight pants and top? Yeah, maybe up her ass, but she's not the one who is going to tell him otherwise because if he, or one of his subordinates, comes to search her, she could take advantage of the opportunity to steal some sort of weapon from them.
In particular from Buggy; (Y/N) saw the knives he keeps in his coat and⊠she wouldn't mind taking a closer look at that interesting nose.
"Busted." She finally admits with a lopsided smile, raising both eyebrows when she sees the surprise on the clown's face. He didn't expect such a cocky response, did he? "I'm not the type of person who likes to attract attention, the spotlight is for others who are more... flashy." She pronounces it honeyedly, repeating the same nickname he used before, pointing at him with a gesture of her chin. "However, I'm not going to tell you where the map is. If you want to find it, come and search for it yourself."
Shrugging her shoulders, she stretches out both arms in a gesture that invites him to come closer. Bold, he thinks, more than pleased with this unexpected turn of events, taking some steps in her direction. She adds once more: "although I would be surprised if you hadn't already done it during the time we have been unconscious"
"Me?" He points at himself, stopping right in front of her. "Take advantage of a defenseless young lady?" He almost sounded offended if it wasn't for the shit eating grin and the eager way he was scanning her body now. "What kind of degenerate do you take me for?"
She scoffs, and Buggy, unsure, seems to consider -for some long seconds- whether or not to do the job himself, (Y/N) being too calm for how helpless she seems. But surely, he knows, she doesn't have any weapons on her; his subordinates were in charge, as she said, of searching all of them as soon as they were brought to the circus.
In the end he gives up, because he would be damned if he dared to refuse to thoroughly touch this mysterious woman who may, just may, have his map hidden somewhere. He strongly doubts it, tho.
Soon enough, he moves again, standing then behind her, and without asking permission, he doesnât need it either, his hands start roaming her shoulders and sides slowly, making sure to feel anything weird between her clothes and the skin underneath. Like the fucking map, folded until it is nothing more than a small piece of paper easy to hide.Â
Because that is the whole point of that scene, right?
"Go on, be my guest." she says sarcastically, trying to stay calm and breathe slowly, because (Y/N) likes to pretend to be made of stone, but not /that much/. The pressure of those gloves against her already tight clothes and the hungry way she knows those -green? blue? difficult to say with those circus lights- eyes are watching her every move make her heart beat a bit faster in something sheâd call /the average amount of nervousness when a known, wanted pirate search for something we wants while threatening to kill you if he doesnât find it/.
Buggy, on the other hand, is so engrossed in his task that his usual cocky smile has disappeared a few seconds ago; he is waiting to feel a change in the girl's body language to be able to guess if she has it or if, on the contrary, this search will be saved in his memory as no more than a small pleasurable pause after all the stress that the goddamn map is putting him through. Because he can't deny it, she's actually a beauty, and in other circumstances he wouldn't mind getting to know her in a funnier way. At all.
Inhaling deeply, wetting his red lips with his tongue, he lets the air out slowly, tilting his head to the side to see her better. He should hurry up and stop making that scene as intimate as it's becoming, audience and all, but he's a thorough man. Or thatâs the excuse -explanation- he will give to whoever dares to ask.
"Where the hell did you hide my map?" He asks melodiously as he finishes searching her torso, his right hand starting to go a little lower, getting dangerously close to her hipbone when (Y/N)'s right hand flies up and catches his wrist between her fingers, stopping him dead in his tracks. She couldn't help it, she acted on autopilot, she is not ready to be the main character of a porn movie with audience included letting him roaming all around as he pleases. "Not between my legs, so keep lowering your hands and I'll cut them off." she threatens, turning her face to look at him standing behind her.
Right back, as if those words were magical or something, the huge, shit eating smile of his returns to the lips of the unstable clown, and without letting go, he makes her spin, facing her with both hands on her waist, strongly keeping her in place, sharp eyes fixed on her, and without realizing it, she stops breathing for a second. "You promise?" He whispers, pleads almost, in an amused, delighted tone of voice after such a threat. She was way interesting than he expected, not as shy or scared as an unarmed girl like her should be. He likes that. A lot.
However, he has -sadly- things to do and he did in fact, already lost time with her. His eyes betraying him the moment they land on the girl's lips, Buggy winks at her with a cocky expression and pulls away suddenly, raising both arms "Another disappointment, how many more can our audience endure? Youâre the only one left, Rubber Boy, don't let me down." He points him, moving closer, while (Y/N) just stays there where he left her, wondering what the fuck just happened and why does her heart run so fast now.
Adrenaline, probably.
"Take her with the others" he ends up saying to a couple of members of his gang, to which she responds by moving on her own in the direction of where they have taken Zoro and Nami before, preventing them from guiding her by force and discovering the knife she stole from Buggy when he got so damn close to her, and which she secretly hid between the waistband of her pants and her shirt.
Risky, she could cut herself with the smallest movement at the least expected moment, but it was way worse to see herself unarmed.
Buggy, infatuated, takes one last look at her and, raising one hand, waves his fingers in the air with a huge smile on his face as he says goodbye to her.
"See you later, love."
#buggy x reader#buggy the clown#buggy one piece#op buggy#one piece live action#buggy x you#buggy the clown fanfiction#one piece#one piece x reader
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waiting at your backdoor (7)
wanda maximoff x fem!reader
part seven of 'you belong with me' series
summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office
word count: 4352
tags: best friends to lovers, pining, reader loves wanda wanda's as oblivious as a rock, or maybe not?, angst, alcohol, drinking, drunk wanda, but wanda's a cute drunk, vision sucks, heavy vision sucks this chapter, but reader takes care of wanda so it's still cute, this chapter is certainly....something! (in a good surprising way), proofread but very lightly
taglist: @reginassweetheart @rroyale-109 @marvel-posts
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7
âSo,â you drum your fingers on the ledge of Wandaâs desk. âAre you ready for the Shields?â you ask with a smile.Â
âUgh,â Wanda groans, putting her head back against her chair making you laugh.Â
âThat bad, huh?âÂ
Wand lifts her head, meeting your gaze. âYou know what they say about a car wreck where itâs so awful you just canât look away?
âMhm,â you nod.Â
âThatâs how bad the Shields are, except this time, you want to look away, but you canât because stupid Tony is making you,â Wanda groans again and puts her head into her arms.Â
âWell,â you lean your chin onto your forearms to meet her line of sight. âIâm right there with you, Wanda,â you give her a comforting smile. âThe whole night.âÂ
âPromise?â Wanda lifts her head up.Â
You nod, grabbing a hold of her hand. âI promise.âÂ
***
Everyone dreaded the Shields, the annual employee awards night of Shield Industry Paper Company.Â
However, the one person who didnât abhor the infamous night was Tony himself. The emcee and host of the Shields. He would get drunk, make stupid comments and jokes every year, and make everyone regret they came despite not having a choice.Â
What Shield Industry dreaded most of all were Tonyâs jokes. Now, he was relatively laid back as a boss and let the majority of his employees do what they want, but a drunk Tony had absolutely no filter and on top of that, Tonyâs sense of humor was incredibly limited. This meant every year someone had about a 25% chance of getting an award that didnât hurt their feelings and the rest were just some sort of asshole comment that embarrassed an employee to no end.Â
âHey, Y/N!â Tony interrupts your conversation with Wanda about your plans for the weekend, his tone of voice making it evident that he was already looking forward to tonightâs awards. âHowâs it going?âÂ
âIâm good, Tony,â you nod, widening your eyes playfully at the receptionist making her laugh.Â
âGood, good,â Tony sighs with a smile. âSo, Y/N! Why donât you show off the Shields youâve won the past few years? Youâve gotten some pretty good ones, huh?â You open your mouth to respond, but you donât get the chance since Tony is already dragging you over to your desk.Â
âOh, I canât because I keep them hidden,â you shrug. âI donât wanna look at them and get cocky, you know?âÂ
Wanda chews on the end of her pen to suppress her laugh.Â
âOh, cool, thatâs a good idea,â Tony remarks wistfully.Â
âMine are at home, in a display case above my bed,â Sam blurts out.Â
âSam, no one cares,â Tony deadpans. As he starts to walk back to his office, he shouts, âTMI!âÂ
You turn to Wanda, giving her a wink before getting back to work at your desk.Â
Wanda shakes her head in amusement.Â
***
Wanda would rather be anywhere but where she is right now. Tony has decided to make her look through hours of footage every single past Shield Awards to find highlights, as heâs taped every. Single. One.Â
âFor the ladies, hit it Sam!â TV Tony shouts, causing Sam to start playing the recorder.Â
Wanda cringes as Tony starts singing and doing an awkward dance. She hears her name mentioned in the song and she desperately wants to shut the TV off and go bleach her eyes.
Halfway through the song, she finds solace when Thor sits right in front of the camera, the whole screen going black.Â
Wanda turns her head to see you through the open door, watching her and quietly laughing at the audio you could hear on the TV.Â
âHelp me,â she mouthes at you, motioning her hands in front of her to emphasize her point.
You shake your head at her antics, laughing even more.Â
***
Wanda had been watching the footage for the past two hours, only fighting a small amount of highlights that would offend people the least when Tony displayed it tonight. Wanda scans over the clips she found on the laptop in front of her, making sure there were as few offensive jokes as possible. Suddenly, the audio of the TV gets her attention, her head snapping up at the sound. Â
Wanda frowns as she hears Tonyâs voice on the TV. âAnd the Shield award for the longest engagement goes toâŠWanda Maximoff! Whoo! When is that girl gonna get married?â TV Tony claps, his motions incredibly sloppy indicating how drunk he was that year. Wanda bites the inside of her cheek. âAh, Visionâs accepting,â TV Tony continues as she sees Vision walk up to the stage to grab her award. âThank you, Vision. Are there any words youâd like to say on Wandaâs behalf?âÂ
âUh, weâll see you next year,â Vision responds into the mic, grabbing the award out of Tonyâs hand.Â
âYeah!â Tony shouts on the screen. âOh, hope not!â Tony laughs obnoxiously before continuing with the rest of the awards.Â
You watch Wandaâs dejected look through the door as she gets back to work, having heard the audio on the TV and knowing how it made her feel.Â
Slowly, you get up from your chair and make your way over to Tonyâs office.
***
âIâm not changing that, itâs the best one,â Tony protests from behind his desk.Â
âNo, itâs hilarious,â you lie, standing up across from him. âYouâre right. I just think, um, Worldâs Longest Engagement, um, weâre all expecting it, you know?âÂ
âThatâs why itâs funny,â Tony retorts. âEvery year that Wanda and Vision donât get married it gets funnier,â he explains.Â
You ponder for a moment. âWell, I think that if you use the same jokes every year it just comes across as lazy.âÂ
Tonyâs mouth parts in shock. âOh, lazy. Ok,â he nods.Â
You smirk slightly.Â
***
Wandaâs head snaps up when she feels a tap on her shoulder, her eyes widening in excitement when you smile at her, draping your black trench coat over the back of the chair next to her and sitting down to the left of your best friend.Â
Vision narrows his eyes slightly as he watches you from Wandaâs other side.
âHas it started yet?â you ask her.Â
âNo, Samâs still setting up the mic,â she responds, nodding over at Sam who toys slightly with the machinery of the microphone.Â
A couple minutes pass, and soon, Samâs voice reverberates through the restaurant known as Chiliâs.Â
âBefore we get started a few announcements,â Sam speaks into the mic. âKeep your acceptance speeches short. I have wrap-it-up music, and Iâm not afraid to use it, Bruce,â he singles out.Â
Samâs about to continue, but is quickly interrupted by the sound of Tonyâs voice as he runs out of the hallway he was hiding in.Â
âWhoo!â he shouts with his fists up. âWhoâs ready for the Shield awards, yeah!âÂ
You snicker as Tony makes his way over to the stage, Sam handing him the mic as he gets started.
âAlright, everyone,â Tony takes off his jacket to reveal his tuxedo. âThank you all for coming, and welcome to the 2005 annual Shield Awards!âÂ
You all clap in response.Â
âI am your host, Tony Stark, whoâs ready to get this party started!â Tony cheers for himself, and you quickly notice his already intoxicated state. âSo, quick warning, everyone, please, please do not drink and drive,â he pauses. âBecause you may hit a bump and spill the drink,â he laughs loudly at his joke.Â
âGood one, Tony!â Sam answers.Â
âThank you, Sam,â Tony points a finger at Sam. âAll right, so! Last night, I was on a hot date with a girl from HR,â he continues.Â
âWe donât have any girls in HR,â Sam responds.Â
âShut it, Sam, itâs for the sake of the story,â he retorts. âAnd things were getting hot and heavy,â he continues, letting out a small laugh. âAnd, uh, I was about to take her bra off, when she had me fill out six hours worth of paperwork,â Tony grins as he finishes his joke.Â
âLike an AIDS test?â Sam asks seriously.Â
âNo, Sam,â Tony trails off. âGod.âÂ
Samâs brows furrow in confusion.Â
âAlright! Letâs get started, everyone!â Tony shouts, stepping off stage to take another swig of his drink.Â
You and Wanda share a look, wary about the chaos about to occur at the hands of Tony Stark. Somehow, every year Tonyâs jokes just got worse and worse.Â
Suddenly, Wandaâs head perks up as she notices Vision being tapped on the shoulder by one of his co-workers, TâChalla.
âHey, letâs go to Poor Richardâs,â TâChalla tells Vision. Poor Richardâs was the local dive bar in Scranton.Â
âYeah, letâs get out of here,â Vision scoffs, getting up and swinging his jacket over his shoulders to put it on.Â
âUm...â Wanda starts, but Vision doesnât hear her.Â
âGuys, where are you going?â Tony asks on stage, noticing the two figures starting to leave. âWanda, the showâs just getting started,â he says with furrowed brows.Â
âSorry,â Wanda apologizes softly, Vision and TâChalla already heading out the door.Â
You frown, rubbing the side of her arm gently.Â
Wanda sighs softly, twirling the straw of her drink absentmindedly.Â
âAlright, whatever,â Tony continues. Grabbing the first award of the night, a small gold trophy with a shield displayed on top of a platform, Tony announces, âAnd the Busiest Beaver award this year goes toâŠNatasha Romanoff! That lady never stops working, am I right?â he laughs into the mic.Â
Natasha walks up to the stage, taking the award and shaking Tonyâs hand before heading back to her chair.Â
Okay, so that wasnât that bad. Maybe this year will be different, you think to yourself. Usually, every time thereâs a Shield award ceremony people stay angry at Tony for at least a week, typically showcasing their anger passive-aggressively to prevent themselves from getting fired.Â
âHey,â Wanda murmurs, getting your attention. âIâm gonna go see if I can convince Vis to stay since they havenât left yet,â she points to the two figures outside their car through the glass of the sliding doors.Â
âOkay,â you nod, giving her a reassuring smile.Â
Wanda barely hears it though, as sheâs already out of her chair to go after her fiance.Â
***
âBecause thatâs what happens every time!â Wanda shouts at Vision, unsure of how she ended up in this position so quickly.Â
âNo, Wanda! Heâs a jackass every year!â Vision shouts back, continuing to walk towards their car, rolling his eyes at the girl next to him.Â
âNo-â Wanda starts, running after him.Â
âJust stop, weâre going to Poor Richardâs, come on!â Vision interrupts, grabbing her arm and starting to drag her to the car.Â
âNo, I donât want to go, Vision!â Wanda protests, trying to get her arm out of his grip, only for him to ignore her and continue to pull her towards the car. âStop no, I donât want to go!â she shouts finally as she frees her arm. Â
âWanda, no!â Vision yells as she starts to walk back to the restaurant.Â
âNo, if you wouldâve asked me then you would know!â she shouts back at him, leaving him in the parking lot.Â
Vision scoffs as he gets into his car, leaving his fiance as he drives off to Poor Richardâs.Â
***
âHey,â you say, surprised to see Wanda came back as she sits down next to you. âI thought you left?âÂ
âUm, no, I justâ I decided to stay,â Wanda responds.Â
âOh,â you say, happy that your best friend would be spending some extra time with you today, despite the unfortunate circumstances.Â
âYeah, Iâll just get a ride home from Nat,â she says, grabbing a fry from the plate of food in front of you, and popping it into her mouth as she drapes her coat over the back of her chair.Â
âSounds good,â you say, turning around to make sure Nat was still here to drive her home.Â
Once you turn back around, your eyes widen slightly as you see Wanda steal your large mug of beer. As she takes a sip, you nearly laugh at the fact that her hand was only half the size of the mug.Â
âCan I get a drink?â Wanda asks the waiter beside her.Â
***
You were keeping a watchful eye on Wanda. It had only been about 5 minutes and the mug of beer she had stolen from you was already half-empty, and you could tell that it was starting to take effect.Â
âAlright, everyone!â Tony announces, his words slurring together as he tries to coherently award the next recipient. âThis next award goes out to somebody who reallyyyy lights up the office.âÂ
You watch Wandaâs excited expression out of the corner of your eye, her eyes lighting up along with a large grin as she takes another sip of your beer. Well, it might as well be hers now since she hasnât given it back to you.Â
You shake your head in amusement at her antics.Â
âSomebody, who I think, a lot of us canât keep from checking out,â Tony says with a smirk. âThe Hottest in the Office award goes to, Mr. Peter Parker, the intern!âÂ
You chuckle once you see Wandaâs mouth open in shock as if the best surprise of her life was just revealed.Â
Then, you turn to see Peterâs shy expression, unsure of what to do as he goes up to the stage to accept his award.Â
âHere you go, Parker,â Tony says as he hands Peter his award, stumbling a little as Peter grabs it tensely before heading back to his chair, a very visible blush on his cheeks. âHow about that one, huh!âÂ
You watch with a raised brow as Tony laughs hysterically to himself on stage before continuing with the awards.
*** Now, in the past few years, youâve seen Wanda drunk quite a few times, but not this much.
And it might be one of the cutest versions of her youâve ever seen. Â
Sheâs currently laughing at a joke youâve made, two drinks side-by-side as she takes turns sipping from each one.Â
However, youâre worried that Wanda might be a little too drunk.Â
âI think those might be empty,â you say with a smile as her empty drinks make a loud slurping sound as she tries her best to suck out the alcohol while still laughing.Â
Wanda grins at you. âNo, âcause the ice melts, and then itâs like second drink!â She continues to laugh as she takes another sip of her margarita.Â
âSecond drink?â you say incredulously with a laugh.Â
Wanda nods with a proud smile.Â
***
You didnât know what to say.Â
Somehow, Tony was now singing a rendition of Elton Johnâs âTiny Dancerâ while dancingâŠsubparly.Â
But, the night was a success since Wanda seemed to be enjoying it when you looked over at her and she had a happy grin on her face.Â
However, it could very possibly be the enormous amount of alcohol she had been consuming tonight.
âAre you gonna finish that?â Wanda asks you while pointing at the new drink you had ordered after she had stolen your beer.Â
âMaximoff, you might be a bit too drunk,â you tell her gently.Â
But you relent once Wanda crosses her arms over her chest with a small pout.Â
Sighing, you slowly slide your drink over to her, andâ
And Wanda kisses your cheek in return.Â
Itâs not the first time, but it never fails to awaken all the butterflies in your stomach.Â
You blush slightly, deciding to distract yourself from the green-eyed woman in front of you by taking a bite of your fry.Â
âYou suck, man!â your head snaps up at the new voice, and you frown once you see a male customer in the restaurant start to throw their food at Tony, most likely frustrated with the noise the award ceremony was making.Â
âGo home!â Another one of his friends yells at Tony, throwing his hamburger at him.Â
You see Wanda frown as well.Â
âWhat do we do?â you hear Sam mutter to Tony by the sound control booth.Â
âLetâs cut it,â Tony answers quietly. âUm,â he clears his throat. âI had a few more Shields to give out tonight, but Iâm just gonna cut it short.â Tony looks down at his feet. âYeah, so weâll do this quickly, then everybody can enjoy their food. Um, thanks for listening, those of you who did.âÂ
The employees stay silent as Tony picks up the next Shield-shaped award.Â
Tony clears his throat. âSo, this next Shield is for Jennifer, itâs the âGrace Under Fireâ award, because even though she has a cousin with anger issues, somehow she always manages to stay calm, so, good job.âÂ
Jennifer gives a tight-lipped smile as she goes up to the stage and accepts the award, shaking Tonyâs hand, however, you canât help but notice Tonyâs dejected expression.Â
It seems Wanda does too, as she begins cheering. âYay, Jennifer for having an angry cousin!â she says as she begins to clap.Â
âYeah, all right, Jennifer!â you join in, starting to clap as well, and you two grin at each other once the rest of the office joins in.Â
âHey, we havenât gotten one yet!â Wanda says to Tony while pointing at the two of you.Â
âYes, we have not,â you say with a smile. âSo, keep going!âÂ
âYeah, more Shields!â Wanda cheers.Â
Tonyâs posture lightens once the office begins to chant. âShields. Shields. Shields,â you all chant with a clap.Â
âAll right, weâll keep it going,â Tony says, starting to lighten up a bit. âOkay, this is the Fine Work Award, and this goes to, Clint! For all the fine work he did this year.âÂ
âSpeech, speech, speech!â someone chants as Clint goes up to the stage.Â
âUm, I donât know what to say,â Clint chuckles as he grabs the award and the microphone. âLast year I got Great Work, so I guess Iâm upgrading!â he finishes.Â
Now you know Wandaâs really drunk when she lets out a hysterical laugh at Clintâs speech.Â
âMaximoff, youâre drunk,â you whisper with an endearing smile as you watch her.Â
âI know,â she grins back.Â
âAlright everyone,â Tony announces. âThis next award goes out to our own little Wanda Maximoff.â Your head snaps up immediately. âI think we all know what award sheâs getting this year, yeah?âÂ
Yours and Wandaâs smile drops.Â
âDrum roll please,â Tony says with a grin, and Sam plays a drum roll effect. âWanda MaximoffâŠâ Your heart starts to beat in your chest because you do not want this night ruined any more for Wanda. âYou are the recipient of the Whitest Sneakers award!â You sigh in relief before smiling. âBecause she always has the whitest tennis shoes on, come on up here!âÂ
Now, youâre sure you would pay millions to see Wandaâs expression in this moment over and over again.Â
She grins the biggest, drunkest smile youâve ever seen, and her hands fly to her face and she looks at you disbelievingly.Â
You nod your head in Tonyâs direction, silently instructing her to go grab the award as you clap for her along with the rest of the office. Wanda basically skips up to the stage in excitement, grabbing the award and Tonyâs mic all in one go.Â
âOoh, here we go,â Tony says into the mic once itâs in Wandaâs hands.Â
âI have so many people to thank for this award!â Wanda says through her disbelieving laugh with an enormous grin on her face.Â
You put both your hands on your mouth to suppress your laughter at her expression.Â
âOkay,â Wanda continues with a smile. âSo first off, Iâd like to thank my Keds,â Wanda points to her shoes. âBecause, I couldnât have done it without them.âÂ
You all clap and cheer in response.Â
âLetâs also give Tony a round of applause for emceeing tonight, because this is a lot harder than it looks,â Wandaâs words start to slur together quite a bit as you notice her feeling the effects of the alcohol a lot more. âAnd also because of Sam too.â Wanda points to Sam behind the sound booth.Â
You all clap once more before Wanda continues.Â
âAnd finally, I want to thank God, because God gave me this Shield.â You look at her with an amused smile as she hoists her award in the air with a serious expression. âAnd I feel God, in this Chiliâs tonight, so thank you, everyone!â Wanda finishes as she bows on stage. Â
âAlright, Wanda Maximoff, everyone!â Tony says as she hands the mic back to him, and you stand up to pull her chair out for her since sheâs quite disoriented at the moment.Â
âChair?â you ask Wanda amusingly as she runs happily towards you.Â
She shakes her head no with a smile before wrapping her arms around you and hugging you tightly, starting to laugh in your ear.Â
You reciprocate her hug happily before she starts to pull away.Â
However, to your surprise, she doesnât pull away completely.Â
Insteadâ
Instead she kisses you.Â
And her lips are the softest, most gentle lips youâve ever felt in your life.Â
Wanda Maximoffâ
Wanda Maximoff was finally kissing you.Â
After 7 years.Â
But sheâs drunk.Â
But then Wanda pulls away entirely, and she sits down with a sigh like nothingâs happened.Â
You follow her movement, sitting down in your chair across from her with a sigh as well.Â
***
âSo, Y/N, what did you think of the Shields this year?â Nat asks as she sits down at the table along with you and Wanda.Â
You nod, trying your best to ignore your heart that was still racing after Wanda kissed you only a few minutes ago. âIt was great! Um, we got to see Tonyâs dance moves once more,â you recall the moments one after the other. âWe learned Tonyâs true feelings for Peter, which was quite touching, and we heard Tony change the lyrics to a number of classic songs,â you finish with a convincing smile, trying to hide your reaction to the fact that the girl youâve been in love for as long as you can remember just. Fucking. Kissed you.Â
âWell, we can only hope for even better next year," Nat replies, leaving you and Wanda on your own. âHey, Wanda, Iâll meet you by my car later, alright?âÂ
Wanda nods at Nat before she leaves, and you turn your head to see that Wanda has turned in her chair next to you to face you completely.Â
âWhat?â you ask Wanda with a small smile as she stares at you intensely. Â
âNothing,â she replies with a shrug.Â
âOkay,â you laugh as you pop a corn nut into your mouth.Â
âWhat?â she repeats back to you with a laugh.Â
âI donât know, what?â you turn to face her with a chuckle, and she starts to laugh even harder.Â
âOh, my god!â you exclaim as suddenly, Wanda falls off her chair completely, now laughing hysterically on the ground. âYou are, so drunk, you know that?â You tell her with a laugh as you grab her hands to help her stand up once more.
***
âThis was the best Shields ever!â Wanda exclaims to you before bouncing out of the restaurant and well into the street.Â
âWhoa, whoa, careful,â you tell her, pulling her back slightly so sheâs on the sidewalk once more. âCâmon, Maximoff.â You lead her to the nearest park bench as you wait for Nat to finish up inside.Â
âThanks for watching me tonight,â she tells you as you both sit down next to each other, you guiding her since she could barely walk straight at this point.Â
âOf course,â you reply easily, however, you freeze as Wanda then leans her head on your shoulder.
âYouâre really comfortable,â she mumbles drowsily after a moment, starting to snuggle into you.Â
âMight be my jacket,â you tell her gently.Â
âNo,â Wanda shakes her head against your shoulder. âYouâve just always made me feel really comfortable.âÂ
You and Wanda sit in silence for a bit as you wait for Nat, and you try your best to calm down the flurry of emotions running through you.Â
 âOh, here she is,â you say as Natâs car pulls up in front of you both.Â
Wanda stands up a bit too quickly and you catch her as she sways slightly. âCareful,â you say, guiding her towards the car.Â
Wanda giggles as she follows you to the passenger side, and you want to laugh at how quickly her emotions have changed. âAlright, almost there,â you say gently as you walk around the front of Natâs car to the passenger side.Â
âHey,â Wanda says as she stops in her place right in front of the car, making you stop as well and face her. âUm, can I ask you a question?âÂ
You tilt your head slightly at her nervous expression, twisting the rings on her fingers slightly. âSure,â you say, giving her a friendly smile.Â
You see a slight bit of fear in her eyes, and your smile falls. âUm, I just wanted to say thanksâŠ.again,â she finishes.Â
âThatâs not really a question,â you joke, making her laugh. Deciding not to engage in the awkward exchange, you start to lead her towards the passenger door. âOkay, letâs get you home, pronto.âÂ
Wandaâs expression calms down, and she gives you a grateful smile once you open the door for her. Youâre sure your heart might explode tonight when she hugs you once more before sitting down in the car seat. âGood night, Y/N,â she says gently.Â
âHave a good night, Wanda,â you reply with a small smile as you close the door slightly. âThanks, Nat,â you say into the car and Nat gives you a thumbs up before you shut the door completely. Â
The two of them then drive off quickly, and you watch the accelerating car with a smile as you remember the feeling of a gorgeous green-eyed brunette's lips on yours tonight.Â
But your smile quickly falls, as you realize that she was going home tonight to someone who had already stolen her heart.Â
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff angst#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wandamaximoff#wanda maximoff fluff#marvel mcu#mcu#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda marvel
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refuge | xmh
xu minghao x reader
"they're so loud." genre: fluff | wc: 592 | warnings: none
For the briefest of moments, the sound of laughter and old friends reminiscing bubbles up and punctures your quiet little hideaway outside. Itâs a little chillyâautumn finally has the early October nights in its clutchesâbut you managed to turn on the small fire table before settling into a corner of the wicker sofa with your book. The noise dies down with the sound of the patio door sliding shut, and it takes only a moment more for the cause to appear.
Minghao leans down, presses a kiss into your hair, and hums at the warmth that the fire table gives off. âYouâre quite cozy out here,â he notes, settling down into the space beside you. âI brought you some tea.â
You take the offered cup gratefully, setting your book down spine-up in your lap. âYou lasted far longer in there than I expected.â
âTheyâre so loud,â he whines, a pained look crossing his face.Â
âYou love them.â
Just then, as if to punctuate his point, you can hear shouting from inside. Vaguely, you can make out Seungkwanâs voice. Hao looks at you flatly, as if to say âsee?â
You bat at his chest playfully and you both laugh. It fades to quiet after a moment, and the silence of the night envelops you again. You pick your book back up and lean forward to set your mug on the edge of the fire table before cozying back into the sofa. Hao moves over, almost imperceptibly, but you can feel his body pressing into your side, and you wrap an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer.
Beside you, you can feel Minghao relax, his breathing evening out as he drifts into his thoughts. You let your focus fall back into your book, and for a while, you sit there together, completely at peace.
âWe should get one of these for the balcony.â Haoâs voice is soft, and when you look up, heâs staring into the fire.
âAdd it to the list.â
And he smiles. A soft, shy little thing that he tries to hide behind his cup of tea. The two of you have been half-joking about moving in together for months. Itâs not the right time for either of youâheâs busy and your lease is nowhere near upâbut the promise of more keeps you going.
The noise bubbles up again as the door opens, and Soonyoungâs voice punches out into the night. âMinghao! Come back inside and play with us! Vernon went to sleep and we need even teams.â
Hao shoots you a pointed look. âLoud,â he repeats, just loud enough for you to hear.Â
You giggle. âGo in and spend time with your friends.â You kiss him quickly, his soft lips moulding against yours for the briefest of moments. âIâll be in soon. I just want to finish this chapter.â
âMinghao!â Soonyoung yells again, and even without looking at him, you can tell heâs taken a step outside toward the two of you.
Hao rolls his eyes and kisses you quickly before standing. He takes his teacup with him. âI will give you 5 million won to forget my name,â he tells Soonyoung, and the older man giggles like a deranged toddler.Â
The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you watch your partner disappear into the house. The night once again goes silent. You know heâs not always up for the raucous energy of his 12 chaotic brothers, but youâre always happy to be here when it gets too much. Youâll never tire of being his refuge.
minghao has really dug himself into the soft spot in my heart recently. I love him a whole lot, and I need more minghao content in my life. if you've got any recs, send them my way, but in the meantime, let me know what you thought of this, maybe?
#minghao x reader#xu minghao x reader#the8 x reader#minghao drabble#xu mingaho drabble#the8 drabble#minghao imagine#xu minghao imagine#the8 imagine#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x you#seventeen imagines#minghao fluff#xu minghao fluff#the8 fluff#seventeen fluff
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The Family Business Ch.4
WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 2k
Chapter Notes: Brief mention of the red room nothing crazy
Summary: Natasha is nervous about finally having some personal time with Wandaâs family. You help her fight through those nerves. Meanwhile Wanda struggles to come to terms with how much of your growth she missed.
An: Posting consistently again got me feeling in my prime. No promises, but might post chapter 5 later this week instead of next monday.
Series Masterlist| Masterlist
Once you were done with work, and had your flowers for Flora, you were ready to go to the Maximoffâs house. Youâd sent a quick text to Dragos telling him that youâd bring Natasha with you, to save them an extra unnecessary trip.
You pack your things quickly and head to the car, Natasha follows behind you. When you get in the car, you finally notice the subtle nervousness of Natasha.
âAre you scared to meet Wandaâs mom?â
Natasha nods a little, âItâs more than that. You guys are the most important people in her life. She told me so herself. Dragos doesnât like me yet, Pietro and I really just looked at each other, and I heard Floraâs got high standards when it comes to partners.â
âWell, they are the kindest people you could ever meet. All they'll care about is that you keep Wanda happy,â you insist.
âI think the kindness goes out of the window, when you find out your daughter got married to a Russian spy that tried to kill her,â Natasha mumbles.
 You try to offer her some comfort, âIâm not going to argue with that but, youâll get a little break, when I tell them I like you.â
âReally?â
âIf Wanda told you all about me, then you should know they've got a soft spot for me,â youâre a little embarrassed when you say it, but itâs the truth.
If Natasha notices your embarrassment, she doesn't bring it up, âWanda says youâre basically a Maximoff every time she tells a story about you.â
You smile, âI like to think of them as my family too. Thereâs been plenty of times where I want to call Dragos, papa. That means thereâs even more times when I want call Flora Mama.â
âWhatâs stopping you?â
âI donât want to take the chance and ruin our dynamic.â
The Russian sighs as the house comes into view. âI think theyâd both love it. The way Wanda tells it, they feel as though you're one of their kids.â
You park the car before answering Natasha, âMaybe one day.â
With the hydrangeas in hand, you head to the front door. Natasha tries to walk behind you, but you pull her forward so sheâs next to you.
âThis is a family you have to face head on. Those uncertainties you have, keep them close to you. Donât let them see your nerves because theyâll pounce. Just remember that you love Wanda, and she loves you too,â your attempt at a pep talk seems to calm her nerves a bit.
âYou said they were nice people. Nice people donât have warnings.â
You roll your eyes, âNatasha you secretly married the daughter of a crime lord without ever meeting the family, thereâs a shitload of warnings.â
The door swings open before you have the chance to knock. You find yourself being pulled into a warm hug. Itâs only a moment before Floraâs hands land on your face. She turns your head a couple times checking that you are fine, before planting a kiss on your cheek.
âY/n, where have you been sweetheart? Too old to come see me anymore, huh? Youâve got bags under your eyes Malysh, have you been sleeping ok?â
You smile warmly at her antics, âIâll never be too old to come visit my Flora. As a sorry, for being away I brought you these.â
Flora takes the flowers from you. âAlways knowing how to get into my good graces, these are beautiful Y/n.â Her eyes dart to Natasha and you watch as her features go neutral.
 âYou must be Natasha.â
The red head extends her hand, âItâs a pleasure to meet you Mrs.Maximoff.â
Flora shakes her hand, âYes, if only we could've done this sooner. â
Natasha doesnât shift at the words, but you can feel her nerves from besides you. Flora beckons you both into the house and you follow her into the kitchen. She grabs a vase for the flowers and begins to fill it with water.
âSo, why Natasha?â She says as she places the flowers in the vase.
âIâm sorry?â Natasha is confused by the question.
Flora keeps her eyes on the flowers, âWhyâd you pick the name Natasha? Natalia is a fairly pretty name, why not keep it?â
You weren't surprised that Flora had done some research on the woman. However, Natasha was taken aback by the question. She wasnât expecting it, so it took her a moment to respond.
âAs a spy, I have many aliases. However, Natasha never felt like an alias, she just felt like me. My parents and sister call me Natalia often just to tease me, but even they seem to like Natasha better.â
You decide to help the Russian out, âAre you close with your family, Natasha?â
She nods, âVery close. My parents took Yelena and I when we were very little. They saved us from some terrible people, I owe then everything. Though they'd never let me repay them.â
âReminds me of us,â you say to Flora, who has now softened her gaze on the redhead.
Flora had a soft spot for children in tough places. You knew that's why she originally gravitated towards you, when Pietro first brought you around. This was the perfect topic to get Natasha on Floraâs good side.
âIf we found you any younger you would've had our last name,â Flora places the vase the table. She eyes Natasha for a moment before asking about her childhood, âFoster care?â
Natasha stiffens a little, âWorse. Young girls all taken and trained to be weapons for whatever they needed.â
Floraâs eyes become glossy, âThe red room.â
Natashaâs gaze was locked on the floor, âYeah.â
It is a quick turn of events when Flora wraps her arms around Natasha. She holds the woman firm as she begins to speak in Russian. You don't understand all of it, but it seems that Flora was intimately familiar with the place.
âYou two go and make yourselves comfortable while I start dinner,â she says finally releasing Natasha.
âYou donât want help?â
Flora shakes her head, âGo, relax malysh. Iâve got it covered in here.â
Instead of leading Natasha to the living room, you take her to the backyard. There is a beautiful large grass area, with a nice garden space in the corner. The patio has the perfect view of the sunset. You sit on one of the patio chairs and Natasha sits beside you.
âI think that went well,â you say to her.
âThanks to you, it went really well,â Natasha looks at you gratefully.
You shake your head, âI didnât do much.â
Natasha argues back, âI see why they call you the glue. If you hadnât made your comment, she wouldâve slighted me all night.â
âDonât give me too much credit, you would've had her the moment you asked how many people she killed,â you joke, and Natasha gets a bit embarrassed.
âSorry, I guess I just- â
You stop her, âItâs fine, Nat. Iâve been underestimated all my life. My first kill is symbolic to me, even in that pitiful state, I was able to snap someoneâs neck. I remember all of them, though itâs not a lot, I also remember each one getting easier.â
She looks at you, âThe longer it gets, the less you remember, and then one day youâre left with the memory of how you used to feel about it. Maybe it fills you with pride in the beginning, but eventually killing just leaves you feeling empty.â
Wanda comes into the backyard before you could answer the Russian.
âSheâs not giving you too much trouble is she, Y/n?â
Natasha sends her wife a pointed look. You laugh at the interaction.
âSheâs a pleasure to have around. I can see why you married her, regardless of the assassination attempt.â
Wanda tilts her head but keeps a smile on her face, âTelling our love story without me, my love?â
âIt just came up. How was the meeting?â
Wanda plops down next to you before leaning back, âApparently Kingpin is looking to expand his control. At least thatâs what Hammerhead said.â
You clench your jaw at the mention of the large man, âHeâs such a greedy bastard. He has the second largest market besides us. Which means he thinks he can take over us. I couldnât imagine being a guy that big with no fucking brains.â
Wanda shakes her head and chuckles slightly, âYou sound just like Papa. He was pissed when he heard.â
âHow is he now?â You ask knowing he could get a little reckless when he was angry.
âFor now, heâs alright. I told him we could use Kingpinâs greed as an example. We can crush him and in turn teach the others not to try to cross us.â
Your hands reach to rub your temples, âYou make it sound so easy.â
âIt will be,â you can hear the determination in her voice.
Natasha interjects, âI think Y/n has a point. Itâs definitely easier said than done.â
You keep your composure, âKingpin selling is a problem in itself, but the people should know better than to buy from him. Whoever is making purchases with him is not being loyal to us. That means heâs making allies, or rather he is taking our allies away from us. It strengthens his numbers while diminishing ours. Heâs trying to start a revolution.â
Before it could be discussed any further Dragos appears, âWe can discuss it more tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate Wandaâs homecoming⊠and marriage. Dinner is ready.â
Youâre the first out of your chair and into the house. It leaves Dragos some time with the couple.
âRemember we only talk business outside of the office, if it is absolutely necessary,â he reminds his daughter.
âShe still gets that way?â Wanda asks referring to you.
He shakes his head, âSheâs just started brainstorming and itâs hard for her to put it aside. Sheâs not that timid little girl anymore.â
Wanda lets out an irritated sigh, âWhy does everyone keep saying that? I know her just like everyone else, papa. Iâve cared for her, Iâve trained her, and- â
âYou missed 5 years of her life; you missed her graduation, you missed her putting all of her training to practical use, you missed her joining the family business. No one is saying that you didn't know her well, but you canât act like you witnessed her growth.â
âItâs not my fault that I wasnât there,â she speaks through gritted teeth.
âNo one is saying it was, malysh.â
Natasha grabs her wifeâs hand, âWeâre celebrating you tonight like your father said. Letâs just enjoy this and eat. You never stopped talking about your motherâs cooking and the longer we spend out here, the colder the food gets in there.â
Wanda gets up from her seat, âYouâre right. Iâm sorry Papa, Iâm just not used to being home yet.â
âItâs alright, her growth is startling. I still remember how I felt when Pietro told me she killed a boy. It was a shock; I didnât want to believe it. She was so delicate that I couldn't picture her doing it.â
âY/n killed somebody?â
Natasha nods, âShe told me about it. Y/n actually has a little ledger, 8 people.â
Wandaâs eyes widen, âShe told you about it?â
The conversation stops there, when you come back, âFlora said if you guys donât come to dinner now that Piet and I can have your plates.â
âYouâd eat Wandaâs welcome home meal, thatâs pretty criminal even by our standards,â Natasha says pulling her wife along into the house.
âOh 100%, you would too if you had Floraâs cooking.â
The playful banter continues, even once everyone is sat at the dinner table. Conversation flows freely, but Wanda doesn't contribute much. All that circles her mind is you.
Her fatherâs words echo in her head. She had missed some of the most important moments of your life. Wanda was scared to admit that she hardly recognized the woman youâve grown into.
It bothered her. She was jealous that everyone got to see you blossom, but her. Even Wandaâs wife seemed to know things about you that she didnât. It was a pill that she didnât want to swallow.
Her little Krolik wasnât so little anymore.
Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick
#lowkeyerror#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#wandanat x reader#wandanat#pietro maximoff
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The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)
Chapter 4
YâALL THIS ONE WAS/IS A ROUGH ONE. I had a lot of writers block with this chapter, but I think I finally accomplished fitting in everything I wanted it to have! Also just for clarification, a lot of things that happened in this chapter will be discussed more thoroughly in future chapters! (Aka Fordâs perspective.) Thank you everyone so much for your patience and continued support!! With that, here is absolutely gut wrenching chapter 4!!
Also, last thing I promise, if you want to be added to the tag list, just comment!
Themes: Lying, Arguments, Strong language, Lotsss of bottled up emotions, Fiddleford gets traumatized by the portal, Ford over prioritizing Bill and his work over sleep/his wife etc, all the fun stuff! This chapter is very sad! But we will finally be back to the present in chapter 5!
You found yourself waking in the late afternoon, your bags now packed and in hand as you make your way out of Lizzyâs apartment. And although you were a nervous wreck to return home and confront Ford about last nightâs events, you were also happy at the thought youâd be sleeping in your own bed tonight. You were hopeful that Ford would have a good explanation. Maybe he was drunk out of his mind, due to your absence, or maybe Fiddleford brought the two of them there after a breakthrough in their research. You couldnât quite put your finger on it.
You keep your thoughts running as you settle into the passenger seat of Lizzyâs car. Your mind is a flurry of hope, worry, and anxiety as you mull over all the different possibilities of what happened last night.
Lizzy hops into the driverâs seat, her gaze flickering over to you as she senses your nerves.
âHey,â she says softly. âEverything will be okay, alright? Iâm sure Ford has a good explanation for everything. At least, he better.â
You let out a nervous sigh, once again fiddling with your wedding band as you try to steady yourself.Â
âI hope so,â you murmur, eyes drifting out the window as Lizzy kicks the vehicle in motion. âI really donât know what Iâll do if he doesnât.â
Lizzy places a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
âLetâs just focus on getting there for now, okay? Try not to imagine any worst-case scenarios until we actually talk to him.â
You give a small nod as she drives, the world outside becoming a blur of trees and late afternoon sun.
6:00 PM.
With a final turn down the gravel path, you arrive at the place you consider home, the cabin. The familiarity of your surroundings should be relieving, yet you find yourself on edge, tugging down on the beanie that rested against your head.
You unclip your seatbelt as the car hauls to a stop, Lizzy turning to give you a reassuring smile.
âIâll drive around closeby.â she says. âIn case things go, you know, not so great.â
You nod softly, thanking her as you grab your bags from the backseat, stepping out of the car. The gravel under your feet crunches with each step, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.
Taking a deep breath, you make your way to the front door of your home, a nervous hand twisting the knob and pushing it open. As you step foot into the familiar space, youâre surprised to find Ford in the living room. Heâs seated on the couch, working on what seemed to be some sort of gadget on the coffee table.
He looks up as you enter, his expression casual with a hint of excitement.
âYouâre back!â He states as he stands, approaching you with a warm smile.
You swallow hard, clutching your bags tightly as you regard him warily.
âI missed you, how was your trip? Thereâs so much I have to tell you, Fiddleford and I had a major breakthrough this weekend!â
Fordâs words are light and pleasant, and he looks genuinely happy to see you. A stark difference from how he was the night before. He steps closer to you, looking as if heâs about to pull you into an embrace, but you take a step back, releasing your bags from your grip.
Fordâs smile falters for a brief moment, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.
âIs something wrong?â he asks, his voice laced with concern.
âWhere were you last night?â
He seems taken aback by your blunt question, a brow raised as he rubs the back of his neck.
âAh⊠well I was here, working with Fiddleford, like I said.â he replies, gesturing to the gadget on the table. âWhy do you ask?â
Your heart twists in your chest as you clench your fists, frown adorning your lips.
âIs that all..?â
Ford looks perplexed by your question, his eyes filled with concern as he takes a step towards you, his expression growing increasingly more confused and worried.
âWhat do you mean? Where else would I have been?â
You go to speak, but falter, looking down at the floor as you hold your elbow sheepishly.
âNevermind.. Itâs nothing, sorry.â
Ford pauses, his concern only deepening as he watches you avoid his gaze. He takes another step closer, his voice gentle.
âY/N, please tell me whatâs wrong,â he says, reaching out to touch your arm.
âYouâve been acting strange ever since you came through the door⊠Did something happen? You can talk to me.â
You swallow hard, before looking up to meet his gaze.
Fordâs expression is genuine, his grip on you squeezing gently as you gaze at him for a moment. This Ford was a huge contrast to whoever you had talked to last night, this was the man you knew and adored. Maybe you and Lizzy really did have too much to drink, and you mixed it all up with some other guy? It seemed too coincidental, but the way Ford was acting now made you second guess everything. He seemed totally unphased, and there wasnât a single thing about his tone that would lead you to believe he was lying. This was still your husband, after all.
You shovel all of your thoughts and suspicions down as you sigh, placing a hand over the one he had rested on your arm.
âItâs nothing, I promise,â you say, cracking a soft smile as you lean into him. âI just missed you a lot. Itâs good to be home.â
Fordâs eyes soften at your words, and he pulls you closer to him, gently enveloping you in his arms. He holds you close, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.
âI missed you too,â he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle. âMore than you know.â
Your ears and cheeks turn red at his words as he pulls away, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he speaks.
âSo, you uh, need help with your bags?â
A soft blush covers Fordâs cheeks as you smile once more, your hand reaching to cup his cheek, thumb grazing the skin underneath.
âSure, although I wanna hear everything you wanted to catch me up on while I unpack.â
If somehow possible, Fordâs cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink as you touch his face, his gaze flicking down to your hand before coming back up to meet your eyes. He then clears his throat, voice slightly strained.
âY-yeah of course,â he stammers, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head. âWe can talk in the bedroom while you unpack.â
âSounds like a plan.â you say with a chuckle, grabbing both of your bags and handing one to Ford, placing a quick peck to his cheek before pulling away.
A small, boyish smile appears on his lips at your gesture. He quickly takes the bag you handed him, keeping his eyes on you for a moment before looking down at your luggage in his hands.
He clears his throat once more, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness as he speaks.
âRight, letâs go then.â
Ford then begins to lead the way to the bedroom, you trailing along behind him.
As you both enter your shared room you begin to unpack your bags, Ford chatting away excitedly as he helps you with your things, pulling out your clean clothes and placing them in the closet.Â
You smile at his enthusiasm, but you canât help but notice the bed as you unpack. The sheets are just how you left them, pillows fluffed and blankets tucked into the edges of the frame.
âDid you get any sleep while I was gone?â you ask, shutting a drawer after youâve placed a pair of jeans inside.
Ford pauses mid-sentence in his excited explanation, faltering as his glaze flicks from the bed to yours.
âUh, well⊠no, I didnât,â he admits, his voice laced with a hint of guilt. âWith all the work Fiddleford and Iâve been doing, I guess I just forgot about sleep.â
You frown deeply as he moves to continue helping you unpack, your arms falling to your sides.
âFord..â
Ford pauses again, a flicker of guilt in his eyes as he senses your disapproving tone.
âJust promise me that youâll at least come to bed tonight. Okay? I worry about you when you arenât getting any rest.â
His expression softens, gaze full of guilt and affection meeting yours. He nods in agreement, a sheepish smile crossing his face.
âI promise.â
Over the following nights, Ford makes a point of coming to bed, holding true to the word he gave you the night you returned from Lizzys. However, the pattern you had desperately hoped for doesnât last long. The old habits return quickly, Ford abandoning the bedroom in favor of work in the lab for days on end. Days soon turn into weeks, weeks into months, and so on. You find yourself lying alone in bed each night, your mind filled with anger and frustration. Sometimes, youâre kept awake by the bright flashes and rumbling from below. A part of you wanted to stomp down there and give him a piece of your mind, to leave him and this broken marriage behind, but another part of you yearned for Ford. You longed for the day youâd see him emerge from the lab instead of Fiddleford, or the day heâd prioritize you again. Even just a simple acknowledgement of your presence, other than âhello, how are youâ, would do. You missed how things used to be. You missed him.
But the day never came.
You were too stubborn to be the first to break the now built-up tension, after all it was Fordâs fault the two of you were in this predicament anyway. At least thatâs what you told yourself, feeding into the false hope that things were going to somehow magically improve.Â
The same cycle repeated itself, leaving you feeling helpless and abandoned.
Until one night.
You found yourself lying alone in bed yet again, your head laid on what was once Fordâs pillow, his scent no longer attached to the fabric. The sounds of the lab seem louder tonight as you toss and turn, grunting in annoyance. You glance towards the clock on your nightstand, the glowing numbers reading midnight. Frustration mounts within you, the lack of any attention whatsoever from Ford wearing you down.
Suddenly, an extremely loud whir from the lab forces you to sit upright, your heart pounding in your chest as your irritation gets the best of you. Finally, youâd had enough.
You throw back the covers in an aggressive motion, swinging your legs over the bed. You pad across the room, your bare feet touching the cold hardwood floor. Each step you take fuels the growing anger in you, your patience thinning.
Reaching the door, you pull on it, the sound of it creaking open adding to the building tension. With a huff, you step forward into the darkness and descend the stairway leading to the lab.
You press the button to the elevator harshly, stepping inside the metal contraption. As you descend further you hear the sound of faint yelling, along with a thud. Your stomach twists with frustration and anxiety, your mind reeling with possibilities of what the hell was going on down there.
Finally, the elevator doors slide open, revealing a blinding blue light behind the glass window of the lab. Your feet carry you quickly to the source, dashing through the entryway when all of a sudden, your shoulders are grabbed.
Your body stiffens as your eyes adjust to the lighting, revealing a disheveled Fiddleford in front of you. His fearful eyes search your panicked ones, his grip painfully tight.
âFiddleford-â
âYouâve got to get out of here Y/N,â he states frantically, his voice shaky. âThis machine will bring about the end of the world, itâs dangerous beyond comprehension. It should never see the light of day.â
The sound of your heartbeat fills your ears as you process his words. The seriousness in his voice and panicked look in his eyes were enough to send a chill down your spine. You take a moment, before stuttering out a few words.
âWhat? Machine? The end of the world..?â
Before you can finish your sentence, Fiddleford leaves in a rush, your frightened gaze moving to the source of the light.
In front of you stood what seemed to be some sort of portal, with your husband standing right below it.
You watch him as you stand there, dumbstruck by fear and confusion. You clench your fists before taking a firm step forward, swallowing dryly.
âFord..?â
He stands with his back turned to you, mumbling something before yelling aloud.
âNo, you know what⊠I donât need anyone!â
Your legs tremble as you make your way towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Ford jumps violently at the contact, his head whipping around to face you. His gaze widening for a moment, before turning cold and harsh.
âWhat..? What are you doing down here Y/N?â He snaps, his tone sharp and defensive.
Your gut clenches at his tone, your eyes brimming with tears as you finally break.
âWhat the actual fuck, Stanford!â You yell, hands formed into fists as you hold them in front of you.
âWhat is this?! This.. this thing?!â You yell, pointing towards the portal.Â
âThis is too fucking far!!â
Fordâs eyes narrow, his irritation growing apparent. He stands his ground, stepping towards you and jabbing a finger towards your chest.
âThis?â he replies, gesturing to the portal. âThis is my lifeâs work Y/N! Everything Iâve dedicated myself towards for decades! Something you wouldnât even understand the significance of, even if I explained it to you!â
His words cut through you like a knife, tears now streaming warmly down your cheeks. You grab hold of his wrist roughly, jerking him towards you.
âNo!â you yell, your grip unrelenting.Â
âThis is some sort of doomsday device you abandoned EVERYTHING for! That you abandoned ME for!â
Your voice breaks with that last sentence, your teeth clenching as you attempt to stifle your pain.
âIâve stuck with you through everything, Stanford! When you lost Stanley, during those horrible years in college, through this!â You say, pointing to him and then to yourself with your free hand. âWhen youâve practically neglected me as your wife, all of it! I stayed with you because Iâm in love with you, Stanford!â
Fordâs eyes soften at your words, a strong flicker of guilt in his expression as you list all the sacrifices youâve made for him.
âBut I canât,â your voice trembles with each word, your grip on his wrist loosening to where it falls back to your side.Â
âY/NâŠâ
Every emotion youâve bottled up until now weighs down on you, your heart racing in your chest.
âI canât do this anymore.â
Your tearful gaze meets his, his heart aching at the sight.
Ford looks as if heâs been torn in two. Flashes of guilt, anger, and concern, all etching across his face as he stands there, desperately searching for the right answer. And although you never in a million years would intend for him to be put in this spot, he knows he has to choose. The person who devoted their everything to him, or everything heâs ever devoted himself to.
Ford stutters out his answer faster than he can think, sweat beading against his forehead.
âThis isnât,â he pinches the bridge of his nose, his expression heavily conflicted. âThis is something monumental Y/N, something that could change the course of existence itself. I have to do this,â as Ford continues, you feel your heart snapping in two, your gaze lowering to the floor as you attempt to take in what he is saying.
âI have to finish what I started, Y/N.â
Your vision blurs with heavy tears as the two of you stand there in deafening silence.Â
Your expression is filled with pure distraught as you lift your head, your gaze meeting Fordâs. Although he doesnât return it, his eyes glued to the ground with a solemn frown on his lips. Your lip trembles as you lower your head once more, standing there for a few moments before forcing yourself to turn away.
âOkay.â
Your legs feel heavy with each step, every part of you screaming at you to stay. But deep down you know you canât, it was time for you to choose yourself for once.
So with that you trudge on, out of the lab and out of the cabin.
The cabin you once considered home.
Thank you for reading! I hope yâall like how this turned out :)
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Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 8: Training Session
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
W: Price x Reader, just a filthy act of love, Price gets a bit intense sometimes, but thats okay, we love him that way.
The next morning, you wake up when you feel Price's arm press you against him. You hum, twisting to get comfy, resting your head on his chest; and you feel it rumble when he says: âI was scared of waking up alone againâŠâ You feel his lips against your hair, and you hug him back as an answer. You raise your head to look at him when he cups your face, caressing your jaw. âI'm sorry, John.â
âIt's okey. I understand, loveâ He says, again hugging you tightly against him and kissing your forehead. âJust don't do it again, please.â
You quickly shake your head, hiding your face on his neck and breathing in his smell; a mix of tobacco and aftershave. Makes you want to bite down thinking of last night's events.
âBut it wasn't okay.â You mumble. âWas an absolute dick moveâ He chuckles, caressing your back, but not disagreeing with you. âI didn't even left a note, a phone number, anything⊠I'm sorry.â
âIt's okay, doll, really.â He says cupping your face with his other hand. âIt just made me worry, I thought I had pushed you to do it; that I didn't read you correctly.â
You quickly shake your head. âIt wasn't that, I promised. It was justâŠâ you sigh, looking for the right words. âFuck, I have been in years long relationships before and I have never felt as loved as that night with you, I felt⊠stupid when it hit me.â
âStupid?â He asks, brows furrowed in confusion.
âYeah, that I was reading feelings that were not there. When I woke up I thought that you were going to kick me out the moment you woke up, and I wanted to save myself the embarrassment.â You admit, noticing the way he hugs you tighter as you talk.
âWhat? Who in their right mind would do such a thing? Who kind of person kicks someone out after doing it?â He asks looking at your face, and just with your eyes you try to make him understand that there are people who would and that there are people who had already. It dawns on him, confusion no longer on his face, instead there is outrage clear as day. âWho?â
âWhat?â You ask, sceptical of his intentions.
âTell me their names, love.â He says keeping your face locked, focusing on you. âIf they are the reason why I woke up empty handed⊠I'll take care of them.â
You raise your eyebrow at him, instead of answering you get close and kiss him on the lips. âCalm down, Cap. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere.â
There is pure and unaltered devotion pouring out of the captain's eyes, and something tells you to be careful who you badmouth in front of him.Â
The two of you exchange more sweet kisses and comforting words, before he speaks again. âI have something planned for today.â He says, and laughs when you look at him with a brow raise. âIt's not that, you insatiable girl. We are teaching you some self defense moves.â
âWe?â
âYeah, the four of us. Since we are all here, there is no point in taking you back home. So the boys and I are training you today, if you are not already sore from yesterday; you'll be tomorrow.â
You groan making him laugh, and he turns you around so he can get up. He's still naked from last night, and your mouth waters at the sight. He catches you staring at him up and down and chuckles. âYou have no shame.â
âSays the one with his dick out. Plus, why should I be ashamed?â You ask turning to lay on your side, head resting on your hand as you continue to look at him.
He sighs, trying to keep his mind clear but his hardening dicks betrays his look. âThe boys are waitingâŠâ
You smile mischievously. âI'm sure they will understand, Captain. And it is not proper to meet your team with a raging boner, now is it?â You ask, using the hand your are not resting your head on to pull his hand softly, he could pull back easily but he doesn't, instead he lets you win as if you were an unmovable force.
âThat is true, doll.â He groans. âSuch a good girl, aren't you? Offering your help to your naughty captain.â
He sits back down on the bed, moving your head to rest on his lap as his hand find his way to your hip. You are face to face with his dick, too heavy to stand on his own but hard enough to dribble precum out of its tip.
You stick your tongue out, licking the tip humming at the taste; so turned on for pleasuring the man to even feel embarrassed. Price groans as well, his hips bucking the smallest bit from the sensation and petting your head.
You continue to give wet kisses all the way to the base, latching as his heavy balls when you reach them, making Price moan loudly as he throws his head back, a droplet of precum falling on your cheek as you do.Â
Price moves his hand from your head to your crotch, lifting your leg and leaving you, still on your side, exposed to him. He shoves his fingers inside of your mouth when you open your mouth again, pressing down your throat harshly to make you gag and smearing the new spit on you mouth around your lips groaning at the sight.Â
His hand goes back to you cunt, caressing around the area, teasing you and not quite giving you the attention that you crave. So you try to focus on the formidable piece of meat in front of your face, opening your mouth and sucking his tip in making him hiss. His finger finally starting to rub against your clit, slowly, awakening it.Â
You bob your head up and down, taking more and more as you go. Moaning against his length when his finger find his way inside your cunt, slowly thrusting in an out on tandem with your head. He then pulls your head, peeling you away from his dick. He smiles at you hungry, like a wolf who just catched his prey, he gets a second finger inside of you making you moan; and the second you slightly open your mouth his other hand catches your jaw keeping it open right under his face. He spits into your mouth, just before crashing his lips against you. It has to be the filthiest kiss you have ever gotten, still you can hear the wet sounds of your arousal being fucked in and out of you pussy with Price's fingers.Â
He pulls back from the kiss just an inch before saying. âI wanna hear you gag on my cock, babygirl. I wanna feel your throat strangle my cock, get your mouth stuffed, cum all over your face, mark you mine, sweet girl. My sweet, sweet girl.â You can only moan back, unable to talk back with the way his hand is fucking you, the flat of his hand clapping against your clit, your juices wetting his hand and dripping down your tight.Â
He lets go of you jaw, and you quickly go back to drowning on his dick. It is such a filthy act, there is drool falling down his dick, soaking his balls. At some point his hand stops moving willingly, just twitching, unable to focus on pleasuring you when be is so close to finish himself. He is thrusting up into your mouth, head back moaning as he feels your throat spasms around his dick. He never expected himself to be this rough, even less with you, but the moment you lay a touch on him he loses every bit of common sense, the urge to feel you being to hard to ignore and needing to fuck you like an animal.
He pulls the hand from your crotch back, using it to fist his dick while he uses the other the keep your head press against his thick thigh. He moans your name shamelessly when he pulls himself over the edge, the first spur of his cum falling on your face before he pushes his red tip back between your plush lips to cum inside your mouth, groaning again when you open your mouth to show him how you swallow it all.
He takes just a second to collect himself, pupils still blown by lust, before he picks you up sitting you on his lap with your back pressed against his chest, his softening dick wetting your ass and he plants your feet on his knees letting you spread-legged for him. An arm grabs you by your middle, supporting you as his hand plays with you nipple making you squirm and the other hand quickly find his way back to your pussy making you moan his name.
He hides his face on your neck, getting high on the smell of sex pouring out of you. His fingers piston in an out of your pussy so fast it is just a blurred image making you moan his name, and Price may have come already but his mind is still going, pouring filth into your ear. âSuch a good fucking pussy, always ready to take it. I bet when I was fucking Kyle in you, you were hoping I would slip inside along, hm? Feel the two of us inside this tight pussy.â You clench around him, the mental image too filthy not toÂ
âWho would you like to fuck you with me, him? Simon?â He asks, and you clench bitting your lip. The thought of getting sandwiches between the two broad men, unable to do anything but to get fuck. The dirty talk between the two of them would turn you into a puddle in mere seconds, and Price can tell how exited that gets you. He chuckles behind you, seeing the fading mark from his bite last night and he bites you again, making sure the mark stays visible for the rest of the day.Â
The stinging pain from the bite in comparison to the pleasure of his fingers stuffing you and his palm constantly slapping agains your clit being enough to drive you over the edge. But Price doesn't relent, instead he gets his fingers out and starts to rub rapidly against your clit making you cry out and to try and unsuccessfully close your legs.
âI can'tâ You cry out, a laugh the only thing you get in return. âI can't, John, I can't again.â
And Price smiles, teeth still bitting down on your shoulder, he can hear your cries but he can also feel your hips grind his hand back. It only takes him another minute before you are coming undone again, his hand getting soaked and your juices dripping down to the floor.Â
You legs shake as he finally let you close them, his hand still against you pussy moving slowly letting you ride out your orgasms. He stops bitting, licking the reddening skin and kissing it softly. âSee? I knew you could do it. My good girl, him?âÂ
You mumble back, unable to even think let alone talk back. He chuckles looking at you and says. âBetter get you cleaned up, you still need to have breakfast to have energy to fight the guys, hm?â
You look back at him like he is crazy, because there is no way in hell he can expect you to move when you don't even feel your legs anymore.
âAgain!â He shouts, after Soap has you pinned to the floor again.
You groan, using your hands to get back on your feet. You know is only going to take Soap a second to have you flat on the floor again, but you still follow Price's orders. You stand how they explained to you, Price nodding with approval while Gaz and Ghost look invested on the âfightâ.
âIt's not fair.â You say between heavy breathes.
âWhat's not fair?â Ghost asks, amused with the situation.
âI'm exhausted, and the four of you keep switching whenever you get tired. I'm going against four!â You exclaim, stepping back when Soap steps forward.
âHm, but you can take the four of us.â Gaz says, laughing to himself.
âIn a fight, right, Gaz?â Ghost ask, indulging his joke and patting his back.
âSure, that too.â He says, before busting laughing.Â
You get distracted just for a second, but time enough for Soap to have you lying flat on the mat with him sitting down on your chest not letting his whole weight in, his crotch mere centimetres from your face.
You are annoyed at this point, the line between frustration and just plain anger blurry from half an hour ago. And when Soap flaunts you, trying to get a rise from you he gets it. In the shape and form of a headbutt to his dick with as much momentum as you can manage.Â
He grabs his crotch fast after the hit, hitting you on the face by accident and Price calls an end to the fight with an exasperated groan. Soap rolls off of you, kneeling down and pressing his forehead to the ground as he grabs his crotch to help with the pain, meanwhile you roll on your stomach, grabbing your mouth in pain as well.
You can hear Ghost and Gaz laughing loudly at the stupidity of the situation. Price enters the ring, picking you up to sit you down straight and crouches down to look at your face. "Are you fine?" You nod quickly, even though you taste blood of your mouth; Soap's cries of pain making you feel bad to complain.
âGood hit, birdie.â Ghost says stepping close, giving you his hand to high five which you do, feeling like it is the biggest compliment.
Gaz goes to check on Soap, struggling not to laugh at him. And after a minute, Soap manages to sit down, taking deep breath to calm down.Â
âLet's all take a break, seems somebody is getting a little irritatedâ Price says trying to look serious, but a devilish smirk appears on his face side eyeing you.
âA little irritated?!â You exclaim, completely falling on his trap. He gets on position, just to tease you because you are not standing up, and you do the unbreakable, unbeatable and unstoppable hit that is taking off your shoe and throwing it full force at his crotch, so fast he is quickly on the floor just like Soap was a second before.Â
The other burst out laughing at his captain, half impressed with your sped, and Ghost sits you on his lap; immobilising you with a leg over yours.Â
âI don't know why we are training you, you seem to be able to defend yourself quite nicely, birdie.â He chuckles behind you.
âYeah, until I run out of shoes.â You admit, moving your feet making him chuckle.
After a moment, each men find their way on a different corner of the rink, Ghost taking you along and you using his bend knee as an arm rest.
âWe look like the Hungry Hippos game thing, you know what I mean?â Soap ask chuckling, exhausted still.
Gaz snorts, and you already know he is about to say something stupid. âYeah, but birdie is the only one who get balls on her mouth.â
You immediately take your shoe off, Ghost only chuckling not even thinking of stopping you when Gaz starts to scream, the kind of scream of when a sibling is following you with a knife. The shoe hit Gaz on the head, luckily covered by his hand; for some reason these men at the top of the military chain that could stop a bullet with their teeth seems to be unable to grab a shoe.Â
âSee? Now I'm defenseless.â You tell Ghost, moving your feet again.Â
He cups your jaw, making you look up to him. âHow's your mouth?â
âHaven't had any complaints jet.â You say smiling, teeth pink with the slightly bloody spit. âRight, Cap?â
He laughs back, Ghost and Soap smiling in mutual understanding and it makes Gaz frown. âWait a minute⊠am I the only one you haven't⊠That's not fair!â
âThat's what you get for breaking the truce.â Price answers simply.
âShe's started!â Gaz complains, trying to defend himself.
âI don't know what you are talking about, I have never done nothing wrong on my life.â You say, raising your chin and turning to cuddle against Ghost's chest.Â
âI believe her, sorry Gaz.â Ghost says, his chest rumbling as he does. You turn your head when you hear Gaz complain and you show him your middle finger.Â
He immediately starts to trash again, snitching to Price about your antics, the Captain completely ignoring the Sergeant just for the sake of annoying him.Â
Ghost chuckles behind you making you look up to him, and he meets your gaze. âAre you sure you wanna be a part of this, birdie? You still can run.â
You laugh back, and raise yourself a bit to kiss him over the mask. âI'm more and more glad each day, Ghostie.â
âHey, bonnie.â Soap calls you, walking up to you once you are all done tidying up the gym. âYou're free this weekend, right?â
âYes I am.â You smile at him. âWhy? Got any good plans for me?âÂ
âYeah, I had an idea.â He hugs you, keeping his hand at the small of your back. âDo you like camping?â
âCamping?â You ask a bit surprised, resting your hands on his shoulders. âI don't know, I have never gone camping.â
âBullshit!â He says, compley shocked by the fact you never been. âThen that's it, we going camping. I'll pack everything, make some food, find blankets, get you warm clothes, we'll make a little fireplace. I'll be fun!â
You laughs softly, contagious with his cheeriness. âSure, Johnny boy. When?â You ask
âTomorrow, I'll pick you up. It's a date then?â He asks, and smile widely when you nod. âCome with me.â
He takes your hand in his and walks you outside of the gym, seeing the training camp and the mountain behind it.
âYou see the little ledge on the cliff?â Soap asks you, pointing with his finger, and when you nod he adds. âThat's where I'm fucking your ass tomorrow, bonnie.â
Hii~ đ©·đ©·
How are you guys? Got any plans for the weekend?
Not a date on this chapter, it was originally a bit different, but then it turned really horny and I'm sorry I'm not.
If there are any asks you would like to send I would love to read, I got one this morning and I'm already working on it hehehe. I LOVE IT đ©·
Love your guys đ©·đ©·
Lovi-
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thirteen crows: chapter one
summary: buck and eddie come visit you at work, then offer to walk you home.
word count: 2.8k
series masterlist (with a better summary lol)
a/n: yay new series!! i hope you like itđ„șđ„ș this chapter is kinda boring since itâs mostly world building but i promise itâll get better. enjoy<33
warnings: mentions of violence (nothing graphic), slight stalker behaviour??, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
You flinch when a group of men start to cheer loudly across the bar, beer spilling on the already sticky floor and their chairs screeching across the floor as they stand up abruptly to celebrate their team scoring a touchdown. You roll your eyes as you continue with your work, wiping the counter down and moving empty glasses to the dishwasher.Â
Thereâs always a group of men here for football nights, as the bar you work at has special deals for those that show up in sports jerseys. Youâd think that by now, youâd be used to their yelling, but even after two long years, it still manages to surprise you every now and then. The incidents happening across the city donât help with your jumpiness, but you donât have another choice than to continue to work.
You tend to get good tips on football nights, anyway. You and all the girls you work with decided to buy cheap football jerseys to wear on those nights, which for some reason, men love to see. Tonight, youâve used a hair elastic to secure the jersey around your waist, which helps accentuate your curves, and paired it with a short, black mini skirt and sheer black tights. Your outfit has proven to work to get tips, which makes you laugh to yourself. Men are extremely easy to please, and you almost feel bad taking their money. Almost.Â
There arenât many other customers apart from the group of men tonight, and youâre grateful. Youâve had to do most of your tasks yourself tonight, and all that youâve had to get for customers since youâve gotten to work is beer. Youâre about to go to the back to quickly unload the dishwasher when the front door opens.
A smile erupts on your face as two of your regulars make their way into the bar, their conversation dying down immediately and their eyes moving to you. They act surprised to see you there, as if they donât know your work schedule, greeting you warmly once theyâre close enough to the bar for you to hear them over the game blaring from the tv.Â
They sit down on the barstools in front of you and you donât even wait for them to order before you start pouring their drinks. You have quite a few regulars, and while you donât remember most of their usual orders, you canât help but remember theirs.
You met them almost a year ago, you think, and theyâre always extremely nice to you, even more so than any of your other coworkers. If that wasnât enough, they also always tip you extremely well. The first time they did it, they left you a $20 tip on their $35 bill, and you chased them out the door when you realized, assuming they had meant to give you a $5 or a $10 bill. When you caught up to them outside the bar, however, they reassured you that they meant to give it to you. That you deserved it.Â
They left you under the dim light of the bar sign flashing âThirteen Crows,â slightly dumbfounded as you watched them smile at each other as they walked away. It was impossible to not like them after that. Youâre pretty sure even if they were assholes to you, their tips would let you put up with it.
âYou closing again tonight?â Eddie asks you a little while later. Youâve been talking to them since they got here, like usual, and youâve gotten so used to their company that you even hang out with them when youâre off the clock. Theyâve become good friends, and it barely feels like youâre working when theyâre here to keep you company.
You hum softly as you nod, giving them an absentminded smile. They frown, looking between each other with a mischievous look. You donât notice however, as your eyes move down to your hands cleaning the bar mat right after you nod. You also donât notice that both of their eyes travel down the parts of your body they could see over the high counter, drinking in your soft curves.
âArenât you scared? With the killings, and stuff.â Buck speaks, giving you a concerned look as he leans his elbows onto the counter. To be honest, you are a little nervous about being here with whatâs been going on lately. For the last three or four months, people have been showing up dead around LA; stabbed to death. It has you on edge, obviously, but you donât have any other choice. The Thirteen Crows isnât in the best part of town, and since you donât have a car, you donât have any other choice than to walk fifteen minutes back to your shitty apartment thatâs not near far enough away from the more dangerous part of town.
Your manager tried to help out with the nervousness you and your coworkers were feeling and started scheduling two people to close each night, but your coworker called in sick tonight, and no one could cover him.
âI gotta pay rent somehow. And we usually close with another person anyway.â you tell them with a shrug, waving their concerns off. You know theyâre looking out for you, and itâs sweet, but you donât want them to worry. You can take care of yourself.
âWhoâs closing with you, then? Tara or Grace?â Eddie asks, looking around the bar. Neither of them had seen anyone else since theyâve been here. You shake your head with a silent laugh. You find it a little funny that they know most people here by name, and even more funny that they even know who you usually close with.
âIt was supposed to be Isaac, but he called in. No one can come in to cover him. So, itâs just me tonight.â Isaac is a newer server, having started a month or two ago, and usually works during the day, which is why Buck and Eddie havenât seen much of him. While he doesnât work as much as you, Tara, or Grace, heâs become a really good friend to you.
âAre you gonna be alright going home by yourself? This isnât exactly a safe part of town either way.â Buck asks, brows furrowed as his eyes trail down your figure again. A soft, sweet thing like you? Youâre practically wearing a sign that says âeasy target.â He doesnât want to see anyone try to take advantage of you, but, thereâs a part of him that would love to see you helpless and teary-eyed, begging for mercy.
âIâm sure Iâll be fine. You only need to worry if you donât see me the next time you come in here.â you try to joke. An absentminded smile appears on Eddieâs face as his eyes seem to stare at your chest, although unfocused, while Buck continues to frown. You purse your lips when you realize that they donât find your joke even remotely funny, and you sigh, rolling your eyes. âWhat, you wanna stay and walk me home?â you ask with a raised brow.
âWe can. If you want.â Eddie tells you earnestly, his eyes coming back into focus and darting up to meet your gaze. Anything to keep you with them longer. Anything to see the fear in your eyes at every bump in the night up close. Theyâre both thinking about how it would feel to see you scared and cowering in fear as you walk home, but neither of them show it. They continue to show you concern for your safety, their eyes trying to insist on walking you home.
âYou really donât have to do that. I promise, Iâll be fine. Itâs not a long walk.â you tell Eddie as your eyes move between the two of them. They both sigh, nodding at you, seemingly defeated.Â
Once you turn to clean up behind the bar a little bit, putting bottles back into their places, they both look at each other with smirks, silently coming up with a plan. Itâs almost too good of a chance to pass up. Youâre all alone tonight. No one to protect you from anything or anyone.Â
They came up with their little arrangement a few months ago. It started when they accidentally let someone die on the job. The man was beating his wife, and she finally found the courage to fight back, grabbing a kitchen knife when he came at her yet again. Both of them felt a rush they had never felt before when he died right in front of them, and before long, they were hunting down all the people they ran into that deserved something worse than death and killed them. Brutally.
âWell, Iâm gonna head out, Iâve got an early morning tomorrow. Babysitting my niece.â Buck speaks about an hour later, pulling out his wallet and placing some money on the table.Â
âOkay, Iâll see you next week?â you ask him with a smile. He nods, licking his lips as his eyes dart down your body once last time.
âWouldnât miss it, sweetheart.â he tells you, placing his hand to his chest, almost like a promise.Â
You feel your cheeks heating up as you say goodbye, and with one last wave and a wink towards Eddie, heâs out the door.Â
Buck leaves only twenty or so minutes until close, and once heâs gone, thereâs no one in the bar but you and Eddie. The group of men watching football are long gone, and like usual, youâre going home with more than usual in tips. Eddie still has half of his beer left, and tells you this is his last, so you finish your cleaning while he keeps you company, watching as you make your way around the bar to wipe down tables and grab the last few empty glasses scattered around.
Once everything is cleaned and put away, Eddie slides some cash across the bar to you. Once again, itâs far too much, but you donât try to argue with him. You put the money in the register, then pocket your tip, and once youâre done, he stands up, ready to follow you out of the bar so you can lock up.
âThe offer still stands.â he tells you as you lock the front door. He looks around while you focus on your keys, almost as if looking for something. When you turn to face him with a smile, he knows heâs got you. Heâs glad Buck mentioned the murders earlier; it seemed to make you just that little bit more nervous. Just enough for you to take up his offer.
You both begin to walk towards your apartment. You know he drove here; you saw his car keys when he first walked into the bar, but you donât question why youâre walking instead of driving. Heâs already being generous enough, you donât want to seem ungrateful by asking him to drive you instead of walking you home, even if youâre only thinking about him having to walk back to the bar after he drops you off.
You lead him down an alley; a shortcut you usually take. You know you shouldnât necessarily take a shortcut down here; the lights are barely bright enough for you to see ten feet in front of you, but it gets you home quicker. You and Eddie walk in silence, which magnifies all the sounds around you, but you feel a little more at ease with him here anyway. You kick a rock as you walk, catching up to it every few steps only to kick it again, but one of your kicks sends the rock flying vertically and right into a big pile of garbage beside a dumpster.
This causes a cat to jump and yelp loudly, now becoming visible from behind the plastic bags and cardboard boxes. Youâve never seen a cat down here before, so when the rustling of trash bags hits your ears, you jump, your eyes going wide as your shoulders raise to almost touch your ears.
Eddieâs beside you in an instant, his body tense, but once he realizes what made you jump, he chuckles. You look over at him with a sheepish smile, then continue to walk, albeit closer to him than before.
When youâre finally out of the alley that youâre sure youâll never want to walk down alone again, a strange feeling spreads through your body. You look around nervously, keeping yourself alert as you continue to walk. It almost feels like someone is watching you, and you donât like it. You know youâre relatively safe; most people who would plan to attack you would back off if youâre with a man, but you canât help but still feel on edge.
Eddie is smirking as he walks behind you, grateful for the cat that put you on edge. It wasnât something they had planned, but it was a good way to get you to react exactly how they want you to.
As you continue walking, you hear something in the distance, a bottle breaking, you think, but youâre not sure which direction itâs coming from. It rings in your ears, and you jump again, practically jumping into Eddieâs arms. He lets out a low grunt as you make contact with his chest, but his arms are around you in an instant, squeezing a little too tight, fingers digging into your plush middle.
âShhh. I got you, honey. Youâre safe.â he whispers into your ear. He smirks down at your scared expression and trembling form as your head swivels all around, desperately looking for the sound of the noise. You will never find it, though. Theyâll make sure of that.
Eddieâs embrace, paired with his sweet words, calm you down, and soon enough, youâre detaching yourself from him and continuing to walk as you mumble a soft âthank you.â
You feel nervous the entire way back to your apartment after that, still feeling like someone is watching you. Every small sound makes you flinch, but Eddie is quick to shush you, telling you that heâs right here.
The noises are almost dizzying, and if you didnât think the idea was so ridiculous and unlikely, youâd think that someone is messing with you. Footsteps to your left, something being kicked down the street behind you, another bottle breaking to your right. It feels like someone is circling you, like youâre their prey.
Once youâre finally home, you stop at your apartment door, looking up at Eddie with a soft smile. Thereâs still a hint of fear in your eyes, which Eddie sees immediately, and he smirks as you try to cover it with your smile. Poor thing. You havenât seen scary yet.
âThank you.â you say softly. Itâs late, and your apartment walls are paper thin. You know if you speak any louder than a whisper, one of your annoying neighbours will complain to the landlord. And you really donât need any more problems with him.
âOf, course. Thatâs what friends are for.â he tells you, peeking into your apartment over your head as you turn and open your door. He desperately wants you to invite him in, but he knows itâs far too early for that. Heâll wait until the time is appropriate.Â
He can tell that once you turn to face him again, youâre going to say good night, and heâs desperate to keep you here. He wants to see you again, soon.
âChristopher has been asking about you. Wondering when youâre gonna come visit.â he says, shoving his hands into his pocket as he feigns indifference. You smile, thinking about Christopher. Heâs a good kid, and you love to see him when you go to Eddieâs house. With the way Eddie is looking at you, it hardly seems like Chris is the one that wants you over, but youâre too oblivious to tell.
âIâm off next Thursday. I could come by then?â you say, raising your brows as an unsure expression crosses your face. He gives you an almost devilish smile at your words, and nods.
âItâs a date.â he murmurs, his eyes trailing down your figure. He loves when you wear your black mini skirt, and if he and Buck didnât get most of your attention when theyâre at the bar, he would be tempted to gut all the men that stare at your ass as you serve them.Â
âOkay.â you speak quietly, nodding as you smile up at him. He bids you goodnight, then turns and walks back down the hallway toward the elevator. Before he makes it to the elevator, he turns to see you still watching him walk, and he smirks before he speaks.
âAnd donât forget to lock your doors. Thereâs a lot of creeps out there.â
next chapter
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chapter 5
pairing: hoshina soshiro x f! reader
genre: romance, angst
wc: 5k
summary: you've loved soshiro since you were seven. he will always place his duty above you.
chapt 1 / chapt 2 / chapt 3 / chapt 4 / chapt 5
There is much to speak about, so much to talk about. Hoshina Soshiro says that he loves you, and youâre not sure what that truly means for you, but your brotherâs wedding is not the time to discuss all of that.Â
âWe should get back. Someoneâs going to come looking for us.âÂ
He grips you tighter. âLet themâ, he declares, cheeky grin warm against your mouth. âStay out here with me tonight.âÂ
âCâmon, we canât stay here for too long.â You forcibly extract yourself from the tangle of his arms, and he whines, a needy child deprived of his favourite toy. âOh gods, thereâs lipstick on your mouthâ, you exclaim in horror.
âLeave itâ, he dodges your attempts at dabbing him with tissue.
âDonât be ridiculous, if you appear back inside looking like this, people will talk -â
âLet them talkâ, he says, smirking shamelessly. âI want everyone to know.âÂ
âAbsolutely notâ, you snap, pulling at his collar to get him close enough for you to clean him up, but he just uses the opportunity to capture your mouth again. Itâs preposterous, the way he manages to turn your brain into mush with just the press of his lips. You have to scrabble at your last remaining brain cell to regroup your train of thought.Â
âSoshiro!â you squeal, swatting at him. âStop it!âÂ
âFine, fineâ, he laughs boyishly. The sound sends another wave of helpless affection in your stomach, but you strengthen your resolve and rub all evidence of - of what youâve been up to, well, before, off of his mouth.Â
âYouâre ridiculousâ, you say, throwing his haori off your shoulders, shoving it into a ball against his chest.Â
âRidiculously in love with youâ, he quips, and you groan at his cheesiness.Â
âCâmonâ, you push yourself onto your feet, balancing precariously on your crutches. âLetâs get back before anyone finds us out here.âÂ
He grumbles in protest when you point blank refuse to allow him to princess carry you back into the ballroom. You will not let him make a scene at your brotherâs wedding. Itâs already manifestly obvious to anyone with eyes what youâve both been up to, his hair a dark, tousled mess, his bottom lip red and swollen - and you suppose you mirror him, though you donât dare to check.Â
You try to insist on entering the ballroom separately, but he keeps his hand on the small of your back. Itâs a good thing that you left at the tail-end of the wedding when all scheduled events are over, making your disappearance less conspicuous, but his lean, lithe figure never fails to turn heads, especially when he follows you back to your seat like a shadow, delivering you back to your parents with a promise that heâll be back.Â
You want to melt under the table as your younger cousin's jawsâ drop simultaneously.Â
âIs he your boyfriend?â they demand, clambering over each other to interrogate you.Â
âWeâre friendsâ, you insist.Â
Itâs not a lie. You havenât had the chance to scope out what all of this means, where exactly you stand, what he wants from you, but from the way his shoulders stiffen, his gaze resting heavy on your back even as dessert is served, you know heâs chomping at the bit to exhibit his disagreement with your statement in a very visible way. Â
âNoâ, you mouth at him when you manage to get everyoneâs attention off you.Â
âYou just waitâ, he mouths back, folding his arms, sticking his tongue out at you.Â
You are glad he manages to behave himself until the festivities are over and youâve completed your remaining duty to stand by your parents and thank each and every guest for their attendance at your brotherâs weddings. His parents smile warmly at you, his mother even holding up the line of exiting guests to invite you out to dinner with them - âan opportunity to eat some good unagiâ, she says, looking inordinately pleased with herself, your parents looking on and nodding indulgently.Â
âNauseatingâ, Sochiro pretends to retch. âMy little brotherâs been staring at you all night.âÂ
âThe toiletâs that way if youâve had too much to drinkâ, you call after him sweetly. His mother drags him away by his ear.Â
You know Soshiroâs approaching you when your cousinsâ eyes threaten to bug out of their sockets. âMay I steal her away?â he asks your parents, hand flat against your back, electricity zipping up your spine.Â
âIâm busy - â you try to ward him off with an excuse, but your parents wave you off.Â
âIâll take care of her from hereâ, he says solemnly, a promise.Â
âIâm being kidnappedâ, you inform your parents, whose only reaction is to blithely tell you both to have fun and stay safe. Youâre glad he doesnât make more of a scene in front of everyone, but he still canât resist sweeping you up into his arms once the doors to the ballroom close behind you. âWhere are we going?!â you shriek, as he slides you into a waiting car in the lobby, his familyâs driver handing the keys over to him. Â
âWeâre going somewhere private so I can convince you that weâre not just friendsâ, he replies, winding the car through the brightly lit streets of the city.Â
You huff, head rolling against the headrest. âYou know I only said that because -âÂ
â-âcos youâre embarrassed?âÂ
âAbsolutely notâ, you snap, sitting up straight. âAnyone with a working brain could never be embarrassed of being associated with you -â, you break off as he starts grinning. âYouâre just fishing for a compliment now, arenât you -âÂ
âOh no, noâ, he laughs, turning the car out of the city into the quieter, residential suburbs where his familyâs resided for generations. âBut please, feel free to keep goinâ on, I rather like hearing you sing my praises -âÂ
âYouâre incorrigibleâ, you fold your arms.Â
âYeahâ, he replies, reaching over to hold your hand. âBut thatâs what you love about me, isnât it?âÂ
You squeeze his hand in reply.Â
He stops the car at a park, where you and he used to play when you were children, the metal frame of the playground corrugated and rusting but still standing, sturdy enough to hold your weight as he settles you against it. Youâre grateful that thereâs just a lone street lamp illuminating the playground, the light amber and low, hiding the heat in your cheeks when he leans in close enough for you to see count each crinkle at the corner of his eyes.Â
âSoâ, he says huskily. âAre we really just friends?âÂ
Your first instinct is to run far away from him (if your legs would hold up), because the truth is, youâre scared. You donât know what the future has in store for you both. You donât know if he can do his duty while leaving space in his life for you, especially if youâre still going to be in Osaka for the foreseeable future, more than three hundred miles away.Â
But lifeâs too short for you to be governed by fear. You hammer your spine straight.Â
âWhen I was - in a comaâ, he makes a noise of distress in his throat, shifting to hover protectively over you, âI had - Iâm not quite sure what it was, really - and I know this sounds like Iâm going crazy, but Iâm not, I promise -âÂ
âGo onâ, he urges, hand on your hip to steady you.Â
You tell him about the girl with sad eyes who loved the boy with midnight hair. You tell him how, in every lifetime, itâs the boyâs destiny to only live for his duty, the girlâs fate to live with a broken heart.Â
âIt scares meâ, you say. âIt makes me wonder if there is any hope for us.â
He stays quiet for a while. Itâs a relief that he doesnât laugh at you, but when he lapses into silence, you can hear the beat of your heart in your throat. You open your mouth to downplay your words, suddenly anxious that youâve said too much, he must think youâve lost your mind, but Soshiro finally speaks, his words slow and measured.Â
âI wonât deny that Iâve always put my duty first my entire lifeâ, he replies. âAnd I canât promise that Iâll ever stop. Itâs my duty to use my skills to hunt kaijus, just like my ancestors whoâve come before me.â
You nod. âI donât expect you to stop doing any of that.â Â
âI know you donâtâ, he says, his fingers slotting between yours, bringing your joined hands up to his lips. âThat doesnât mean I canât do my duty while doinâ right by youâ, he says, voice so thick with sincerity that you have to catch your breath. âGive me a chance to show you I can do both.âÂ
âLetâs both do our bestâ, you say against his mouth.Â
He kisses you again and again, as if sealing his promise with his lips.Â
The distance between Osaka and Tokyo remains an obstacle to his promise.Â
He tries his best, continues to visit you on his days off from work, takes you out on dates, outings to cafes where you both talk for hours on end, activities when your legs are finally mended enough to carry your weight without aid. He keeps in touch with you when heâs away, sends you bubbles of his thoughts in between training and patrols, funny videos that he thinks you might like.Â
When the doctors finally clear you, you decide to meet him halfway. âIâm moving back to Tokyoâ, you tell him over a call. Thereâs nothing but static for a while, before you hear him give a huge whoop. It leaves you grinning for days.Â
Your jobâs still waiting for you when you move back. The transition from convalescence to full-time physical activity overwhelms you at first, even when your physiotherapist gives you the greenlight. Your legs still feel like jelly, muscle mass dissipated from your long period of inactivity, but Soshiro sends you his encouragement, texts you his suggestions for exercises to rebuild your strength. Your colleagues rally around you, giving you the confidence to pick up your hammer and tongs again.Â
Your parents drive you and your pots of plants back to Tokyo, where you secure a little apartment in a quiet neighbourhood, nicely situated near Izumo Tech, not too far away from Tachikawa base. Theyâre overly eager to get you out of their house, though they deny it when you sourly point it out.Â
âWe just want to make sure you and Hoshina-kun get to see each other moreâ, they tell you.Â
âMy parents are throwing me at your headâ, you inform him via text.Â
He sends you a laughing emoji. âMy motherâs planning our wedding. Sheâs convinced that Sochiroâs a hopeless case, so Iâm her only shot at seeinâ one of her sons married off.âÂ
You snort, shaking your head. His mother had indeed made such comments all throughout the unagi dinner she hounded Soshiro into bringing you. Youâve known the family since you were a child, but you still harboured worries that they might think you fall short of their son. Your familyâs worked with his for generations, but the Hoshina clan is wealthy, well established, not like your familyâs working class roots.Â
But your worries are unfounded, because she forces you to take the fattest slices of unagi, much to the disgust of Sochiro, who was also threatened into attendance, scolds Soshiroâs father when he tries to talk shop with you, tersely reminding the men of her family that she wants âone dinner where the family can talk about something non-kaiju related, so she can finally get to know her future daughter-in-law sheâs been waiting her whole life forâ.Â
You want to sink under the table and combust at the same time. Soshiro mirrors your expression.Â
Sochiro glares. âWhy does everyone think Iâm incapable of findinâ someone.âÂ
His mother smiles serenely, patting his hand. âCos youâre you, mâdear. And thatâs quite alright.âÂ
You and Soshiro burst into laughter at Sochiroâs expression of disgust.Â
Itâs not as if your relationship with Soshiro is smooth-sailing, even when youâve moved to Tokyo. Your fears haunt you still, especially when he has to blow off some of your dates, occasionally going a week without seeing you because of work. And even when you get him to yourself, his work has a pesky way of getting between you.
Heâs mouthing your name into the hollow of your throat, hand on your hip slipping into your waistband. Heâs right where you want him - perhaps he could be moving a little faster, but then his phone buzzes and he immediately rolls off you.Â
âDuty callsâ, he tells you. âIâm really sorry.âÂ
âItâs fineâ, you say, though you stay on your bed staring at your ceiling for a good half hour after he leaves.Â
Itâs difficult to keep those ugly insecurities in check, and they eat at you, a festering wound that gnaws away at your insides, but youâre reluctant to raise your unhappiness. Your time with Soshiro is so limited, and you donât want to come across as ungrateful or insecure.Â
But itâs impossible to hide anything from Soshiro.Â
âItâs obvious youâre unhappyâ, he says, looping his arm around you when you next meet. âTalk to me.âÂ
âItâs a waste of time -âÂ
âNo it isnâtâ, he cuts in, cupping your face in warm, steady hands. âI always wanna listen to what you have to say.â
âAlways?â, you say, burying your face in his shoulder. âThatâs a bold claim.âÂ
âThatâs a promiseâ, he says with a chuckle. âSo, spill.âÂ
It takes the edge off your fear and unhappiness when you bring them out into the sun. You feel better with your gripes out in the open, acknowledged by Soshiro. To his credit, he really tries his best, and itâs the effort he puts into you appreciate. He schedules his weapon checks to coincide with your lunch breaks, just so you can spend a few more precious minutes with him.Â
Itâs fortunate that your work also gives you an excuse to see him from time to time. Youâre called in to adjust the hilt of his blade, to compensate for the minute change in his grip whenever he wears the Number 10 suit. Its sentience frightens you, now that you see it up close for yourself, its will jostling against Soshiro, debating the best way to attack, never defend, and you nearly jump right out of your skin when the metal tail slithers up behind you, curling around your ankle.Â
âThis human isnât too uselessâ, you hear a metallic, disjointed voice say. âBut youâre distracted around it.âÂ
Soshiro kicks the tail. âOi, sheâs not uselessâ, he says hotly. âSheâs the reason Iâm even here.âÂ
âOh hoâ, the suit chuckles. âIs this the sentiment that humans talk about? I donât understand it, myself but itâs interesting to see it up close.âÂ
You bend over to run your hand over the suitâs metal scales. âDonât give Hoshina-kun a hard time, okay? You canât go apeshit and destroy things if you donât work together properly.âÂ
It rumbles its approval, almost like a cat purring, its tail tightening around your shin. Soshiro, eyes narrowed, immediately orders you out of the testing ground. âIt likes you too muchâ, he complains, once heâs stripped off the suit and out of the earshot of his colleagues. âSays you understand it - itâs a fuckinâ kaiju, it doesnât even know you -â
âAre you jealous of your own suit?â you giggle at the absurdity of the situation.Â
ââCourse notâ, he says too quickly. âIâm just tryinâ to keep you safe.âÂ
âFrom a suit turned suitor?â you tease. âJealous you have competition?âÂ
He pouts. âI just donât like to shareâ, he admits sheepishly. âI already donât get enough time to spend with you, now this damn kaiju suit thinks it can sweet talk you -âÂ
You burst out laughing. He kisses you to shut you up.Â
Beyond work, you keep yourself busy with your plants and pottery lessons, and remind yourself that he canât help when a kaiju pops up, and one of the many reasons you love him is for his drive and determination to fulfil his duty. He comes to you once, slightly abashed, with yonju guts all over his form.Â
âSorry Iâm late. Had a yonju pop up just as I was leavinâ baseâ, when you gape at him.Â
You drag him into your bathroom, ordering him to strip. He waggles his eyebrows at you, but you grab the showerhead and sit him between your knees. He leans his head against your thighs as you scrub shampoo through his dark hair and talks about his day.Â
Softly, he asks. âAm I doinâ things right by you?â
âDâyou even need to ask?â you reply lightly, building a crown of soap suds on his head. âYouâve done your duty and more and you make me so damn proud. Just - just make sure you always come back to me.âÂ
You can feel his smile unfurl against your skin.Â
You fall into a comfortable rhythm. A year passes and itâs summer again. Â
Your house is filled with a sea of blooms when Soshiro buys you two huge pots bursting with hydrangeas and violets. Then he takes a week off work and spends it stuffing you with endless bowls of kakigori, taking you out to all the parades, lantern lightings and firework festivals across Tokyo.Â
âI made a promiseâ, he says when you question him, bemused by his sudden enthusiasm for summertime activities. âPlus, if I stuff myself with shaved ice, I wonât have stomach to steal your ice cream again.âÂ
âYou stay away from my fridge or Iâll strangle youâ, you laughingly threaten him.Â
He buys another bowl of kakigori to share with you, laden with golden peaches. Well, itâs a win win for you both so you donât interrogate him further. Itâs a treat to see Soshiro dressed up in a cotton yukata, cheerfully buying an armful of food from street vendors to snack on while watching the night sky explode in colour beside you.Â
At the end of the week, you both take the train back to Osaka for obon, Sochiro refusing to drive you both on the basis that heâs allergic to being a third wheel. You retort by sending him the numbers of your colleagues who find him cute, âthough you have no idea whyâ, you qualify, and he sends you rude gifs in response.
You drop by the Hoshina estate to spend time with Soshiroâs family. Everything remains as it was when you were a child, perhaps the way it has been in past lifetimes, the manicured bonsai trees, the precisely raked ripples in white gravel. Soshiro asked you to wait for him in the courtyard where you first met him as a child of seven, where the ghosts of your childhood linger. Youâre a few minutes too early, so you seek shade from the sunâs glare in a sitting room with a familiar looking katana. Â
An echo of a past dream draws you in. âHe died in battleâ, you read the caption below the blade softly to yourself. âHis body was never found.âÂ
(a boy who does his duty too well)Â
(and what of love, a girl asks)Â
In another lifetime, that couldâve been Soshiro. In this lifetime, it still could be Soshiro.Â
Distantly, you hear Soshiro call your name, waking you from your daydream. Warm hands rest on your shoulders, turning you to face him. âNot with your blade in my handâ, he says - and of course, Soshiro knows your thoughts, even if you donât put them into words. âNot in this lifetime.âÂ
The blade gleams in the lamplight. But the ring that Soshiro presents you sparkles in the summer sun.Â
Hand over mouth, you watch with wide eyes as he drops to one knee.Â
âIn this lifetimeâ, his hands shake as he threads your fourth finger with his ring. âLet me always come home to you.âÂ
In this lifetime, violets bloom throughout the year, improbable as it may be. In this lifetime, the boy still does his duty, but is not a stranger to love. In this lifetime, the girlâs heart is battered and bruised but ultimately is welded whole again, unbroken. In this lifetime, against the odds, your dreams bear fruit, your love awaits you.Â
âTadaimaâ, you say. Welcome home.Â
âOkaerieâ, he replies, nearly falling over when you throw your arms around his neck. Iâm home.Â
a/n: ty for hanging with me these past month and indulging me in my love for one hoshina soshiro. i'm not sure when i'll write again, but i'm forever grateful that you've given me and this fic another chance - do check out my other fics if you love this one!
love always, nikki.
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