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deliciousangelfestival · 3 days ago

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The Imperfect Couple - 19 | End

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.

Warning: Triggering conversation. Character died.

Words Count: 5,588

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

When life seems perfect, it often hides a test—a calm before the storm. For Steve, months after Peggy’s death, everything felt whole, secure. His presidency was steady, bolstered by approval from the public and respect from allies. Policies were sailing through Congress, his popularity was soaring, and his vision for the country was unfolding exactly as planned.

But something gnawed at him, an intuition sharpened by years in the military. A storm was coming—he could feel it.

“Mr. President,” Natasha’s voice cut through his thoughts as she entered the office with a stack of documents in her arms.

“Yes, Natasha?”

She placed a folder on his desk. “Here’s the speech draft for the press conference announcing your engagement to Miss Hazel,” she said, her tone carefully neutral. “If anything… goes south after the announcement.”

Steve took the folder, scanning the first page with a furrowed brow. He plans to introduce Hazel and Nate to the world. The public would need time to adjust to the news, and if the backlash was harsh, he’d be ready with a statement that cast Hazel in a sympathetic light.

“Thank you,” he replied, placing the folder aside.

Just then, the door burst open. An aide stumbled in, looking flushed and frantic. “Mr. President, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you need to see this immediately.” He thrust a tablet onto the desk, his hands shaking slightly as he pressed play.

A news anchor appeared on the screen, her voice grim and insistent. “Breaking news on an international scandal that could shake the nation. Our sources have uncovered what they’re calling ‘Deals in the Dark: Inside the Global Conspiracy Threatening Economic Stability.’”

The words "Steve Rogers" flashed across the screen, and the anchor continued, "Our investigation has linked these troubling deals directly to the highest office in the land.”

Steve’s face blanched. His name—his reputation—was being dragged through the mud in front of the entire country. Rage flared within him as he looked up, his jaw tight. “Get the Vice President in here. Now.”

A tense silence settled over the room as they waited. Moments later, Bucky entered, his expression carefully controlled, his eyes meeting Steve’s with a flash of concern.

“Close the door,” Steve ordered, his voice low and taut.

As the door clicked shut, Bucky stood before him, the weight of the situation hanging between them like a loaded gun. Steve’s hand curled into a fist, his voice barely a whisper but laced with fury. “Did you know about this?”

Bucky looked down, drawing a steadying breath, then met Steve’s piercing gaze. “I knew her was digging into things after her friend died, but… I didn’t know it would go this far.” He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t realize how deep she’d go—or how reckless she’d become.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, a vein throbbing in his temple. “So you’re telling me you had no idea?”

“No, I didn’t,” Bucky admitted, his voice weighted with regret. “And I’m sorry, Steve. I’ll make this right. If you need a name to take the fall… blame me. I’ll shoulder this.”

Steve looked at him, surprised. Here was his Vice President—his friend—willing to sacrifice himself to protect him. It would be so easy to accept the offer, to let Bucky take the brunt of the fallout. It would keep Steve’s image intact, and Bucky could be quietly replaced.

But the advantage of having Bucky loyal by his side was too great. “No,” Steve replied, shaking his head. “This wasn’t your doing. And I need you here, not buried under this scandal.”

Bucky stepped forward, his gaze steady. “It’s alright, Steve. I haven’t done much lately as Vice President anyway. Let me take this on. We’re a team, aren’t we? Your problems are mine.”

Steve paused, looking at him, his anger tempered by the loyalty in Bucky’s eyes. “You’d take this for me?”

“Without hesitation,” Bucky replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Steve exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He extended a hand, and Bucky took it, their grips strong, but their shared look even stronger. Then, in a rare moment of mutual trust, Steve pulled him into a fierce, brotherly embrace.

“Thank you, Bucky,” he murmured, his voice softened with unspoken gratitude.

As they pulled back, Bucky’s expression was resolute. “Whatever’s coming,” he said, his voice low, “we’re facing it together.”

Steve nodded, his mind racing with strategy and resolve. The scandal might be a blow, but with Bucky at his side, he felt fortified, ready to weather the storm—no matter how dark it threatened to become.

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With Bucky's promise still fresh in the air, Steve watched as his vice president worked hard to keep issues from flaring up. Bucky stood tall, his confidence showing as he spoke to reporters and citizens, assuring them that their concerns were being handled. But underneath, Steve could sense the tension in Bucky—his jaw tightened, and worry flickered in his eyes whenever new problems popped up.

Each time one issue seemed to fade, another arose, and it always seemed to lead back to you.

As Steve stood in the Oval Office, the weight of the scandals crashing down around him felt almost suffocating. Illegal domestic surveillance, military manipulation, a nuclear program scandal, and Stark Industries' data misuse—all of it traced back to you. The walls felt like they were closing in as he realized you were the mastermind behind this revelation. Even Bucky was oblivious to the full extent of the details.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the rising tide of anger and betrayal, and faced you across the room. The tension hung heavy in the air, electric and dangerous. “When will you stop?” he demanded, his voice low and filled with barely restrained fury. “This is not only hurting me but also Bucky.”

You met his gaze, unflinching, your own anger simmering just below the surface. “Come and kill me, you crazy sociopath,” you shot back, your voice dripping with defiance.

Steve took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “If you keep doing this, you’ll ruin the future of Nate’s life,” he warned, his tone now tinged with a desperate edge.

“I knew you have a soft spot for him. And I appreciate it,” he sneered. “But imagine him being branded with the image of being the illegitimate child, with his father as the most evil president in history.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “Or you could choose this one: he’ll find out who I really am. Instead of shame, he’ll be proud to be the son of the president.”

“You fucking psycho,” you spat, taking a step back, putting space between you and the weight of your shared history. “Using your own son as your shield.”

Steve shook his head, disbelief mingling with a simmering rage. “You hate me because I killed your friend. Sure, I understand that. But if he were still alive, your husband and I probably couldn’t win the election.”

As the two of you locked eyes, the atmosphere crackled with tension—a brutal dance of hurt and anger, intertwined with a strange sense of familiarity. Steve’s breath quickened, the realization dawning on him that the battle wasn’t just external; it was deeply personal, and it threatened to consume them both.

“Everything is about paying back. Everyone in here knows everyone’s secrets.” Steve's voice was cold, his jaw clenched tightly as he glared at you, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, as if holding back the urge to lash out.

"I hate people like you—the idealistic type," Steve said, his voice low and simmering with frustration. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto yours, the tension in the air palpable. "If you get rid of me, there will only be another just like me."

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After talking to Steve, you returned home, your heart still racing with the weight of the conversation. As you stepped through the door, you saw Bucky waiting for you, his expression unreadable. The moment you locked eyes, tension filled the room.

"You’re just a puppet for Steve," you spat, your voice dripping with disdain. "I’m so ashamed of you."

Bucky's face hardened, his jaw clenched tightly as he stepped closer, his frustration boiling over. "You don’t understand anything! I’m doing what I have to do," he shot back, his tone sharp and defensive.

“Doing what you have to do?” you scoffed, your hands trembling with anger. “You’re covering up Ian’s death! You’re a coward for letting this happen!” Your words hung heavy in the air, each accusation striking a nerve as you paced back and forth, unable to contain your rage.

Bucky’s eyes flashed with a mix of hurt and anger. “You think it’s that simple? It’s not just about me! I have to protect what’s left of this place, even if it means making sacrifices!” He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in the way his fingers curled into his scalp.

You shook your head, refusing to back down. “Sacrifices? You mean sacrificing your integrity? You’ve lost yourself to this game, Bucky! I can’t believe you let Steve manipulate you like this.”

Unbeknownst to both of you, your heated argument was being overheard. Natasha listened intently from the hidden bug that had been planted in the room, her brow furrowed with concern as she glanced at Steve. “Both of them are fighting. Bucky sounds surprised,” she informed him, her tone serious.

Steve leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk forming on his lips. “Good,” he replied, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. He relished the chaos unfolding, knowing that conflict could lead to clarity, both for Bucky and for you. The storm brewing between you two was exactly what he needed.

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Even though there was turmoil at home, everything had to keep going. Bucky had to accompany Steve to attend the parade. The parade was a vibrant spectacle, a sea of red, white, and blue, with flags fluttering in the crisp air. Cheerful crowds lined the streets, waving banners and chanting the names of their leaders, their excitement palpable.

"Mr. President! Mr. President!" they roared, their voices a chorus of admiration for Steve Rogers, who stood tall and confident, a smile breaking across his face as he waved back. The warmth of the people's adoration radiated around him, but as the crowd's energy surged, the atmosphere felt electric, almost frenetic.

Beside him, Bucky Barnes maintained a more stoic demeanor. Though he wore the badge of Vice President, the cheers seemed to pass over him, fewer and far between. He appreciated the excitement but felt a twinge of disappointment that the cheers weren't for him. He turned to Steve, his brow furrowing slightly, and remarked dryly, "You know, I thought they would be a bit more enthusiastic about me."

Steve had brought Bucky here to entertain him because he knew about the problems between Bucky and you. You're wild and couldn't be tamed.

Steve chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned closer, "Put a leash on your wife, or she'll embarrass this country." His laughter rang out, mingling with the cheers of the crowd, but Bucky's gaze drifted past him, scanning the parade route.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, a hint of agreement in his voice, but his eyes were still fixed on the crowd. There was a tension in the air that he couldn’t quite place.

Steve turned to Bucky, his brow slightly furrowed with concern. "How is she?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Bucky crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his jaw clenched as he replied, "I told her to be quieter."

“Good,” Steve said, his expression softening a bit. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "I’m planning to have Hazel by my side."

Bucky's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. "What?" he exclaimed, his posture tensing as he processed the implications of Steve’s words.

"I knew you’d know," Steve said, a hint of regret creeping into his tone. He stepped closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "And I’m sorry. But I promise you, I will give Hazel and Nate the best future."

Bucky fell silent, the weight of Steve’s promise hanging in the air between them. He looked away for a moment, his thoughts racing, before finally nodding, a mix of resignation and reluctant acceptance etched on his face.

Steve smiled, relief washing over him as he saw Bucky's reaction. There was a sense of camaraderie in the moment, a silent understanding forged in the midst of tension. But as Bucky looked at Steve, his eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty, hinting at the underlying conflict that still simmered just beneath the surface.

"I'm so glad to have you as my partner," Steve continued, sincerity evident in his tone. "May we work together until we die."

"Until we die," Bucky murmured, his voice almost lost in the surrounding commotion.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the noise, calling out, "Barnes!" A hand waved from the throng, the first time anyone had shouted his name that day. Bucky glanced at the person but didn’t respond with a wave like Steve did. Instead, he gave a subtle nod, a flicker of acknowledgment that felt more calculated than celebratory.

In that instant, chaos erupted. "KYAAA!!!"

A sharp crack rang out, slicing through the jubilant atmosphere. Bucky staggered as if struck by a physical blow, his eyes widening in shock.

The cheers turned into gasps of disbelief, and screams erupted as the crowd reacted in panic, some dropping to the ground, others frantically searching for cover. The Secret Service sprang into action, "Protect the Vice-President!", a wall of suits forming around Bucky as people pushed back in terror, the once-cheerful parade transformed into a scene of horror.

"Bucky!" Steve shouted, rushing forward, his heart pounding as he reached his partner's side. The world around him blurred, and all he could focus on was Bucky, crumpling to the ground.

Everyone was shouting, the air thick with fear and confusion, but all Steve heard was the ragged sound of his own breathing and the desperate cry of his friend. "Bucky!" he repeated, urgency lacing his tone.

Bucky's breath came in ragged gasps, his body sprawled on the pavement. The color drained from his face as he struggled to lift his hand, feeling the warmth of blood seeping through his fingers. With a surge of effort, he grasped Steve's arm, pulling him closer, anchoring himself to his partner even as the life slipped away from him. "All hail the President," he managed, his voice weak but resolute.

Steve's expression shifted from shock to horror, his body taut with the weight of impending dread. Bucky's grip tightened, holding him in place as if preventing him from moving, creating a storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm them both. "Bucky, stay with me," he urged, desperation lacing his tone.

Bucky locked eyes with Steve, seeing the fear reflected there. A strange calm washed over him as he whispered, "As Nate's father, this is my gift for you."

Then, without warning, a searing pain tore through Steve’s chest, a sharp shot of agony that rooted him to the spot. The world blurred around him as he struggled to comprehend what was happening, realizing in that instant that he was the true target.

Steve felt the impact before he could process the meaning behind Bucky’s words. The world around them seemed to slow as the realization of betrayal hit him. He caught a glimpse of Bucky's fading form, and in that moment, a twisted smirk crept across his lips. "Well played," he murmured, before the darkness consumed him, and he dropped to the ground.

Bucky’s grip slackened, the warmth of his hand slipping away. Bucky’s body went limp, and as everything turned dark around him, Steve felt his own strength faltering.

That day, which was meant to be a celebration, turned into a day of mourning. Two main leaders of the country were injured, and no one knew who was behind the attack. With the most important figures in the nation harmed, it felt like an embarrassment for a country that prided itself on its strength.

Both parties in the government reached a silent agreement to keep the situation under wraps and portray Steve as a hero.

The news headlines that would follow would echo through history: “The President Dies Protecting the Vice President.” It would be a legacy of sacrifice, a testament to their bond. Steve Rogers would forever be remembered as the only president who lost his life protecting another, a tragedy that would resonate for generations.

Everyone would remember him as a good symbol, sacrificing himself for someone, without recalling the darker aspects of his actions. This was the last gift Bucky gave to him.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

2 days later

Bucky's eyes fluttered open, the sterile brightness of the hospital room piercing through the haze of his coma. As his surroundings came into focus, the first thing he saw was you, your face streaked with tears, a mixture of relief and anger etched across your features.

You rushed to his side, gripping his arm tightly, your voice trembling with emotion. "You idiot! What kind of plan was that? Risking your life?"

Bucky's brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, his voice hoarse but steady. "Didn't I tell you? I will accept it if you hurt me."

Both of you pretended to fight to keep Steve from suspecting anything. He knew how much Bucky loved you, and with the two of you constantly bickering, he wouldn't notice that someone else had hired an assassin.

It was Caroline. She was the one who hired the sniper to take Steve's life. Don’t mess with a mother—or a woman like her.

Bucky getting shot first was all part of the plan. Caroline’s intention was to take out Steve, but Bucky warned her that he would also become a suspect if that happened.

Instead, he proposed that he get hurt first, diverting everyone’s attention to him, allowing Steve to be vulnerable next.

It was a risky plan—an idiotic one, really. But Bucky insisted, determined to see it through despite the danger that loomed over them all.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, a blend of frustration and relief washing over you. You leaned against his chest, resting your head there, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. In that moment, everything else faded away—the anger, the fear—and all that mattered was that he was alive.

Risking his life was necessary to make his plan work. He didn't want the past six years of his efforts to go to waste.

The past six years had been exhausting for Bucky Barnes. He had immersed himself in the treacherous waters of politics, drawn in by the intoxicating taste of power that left a lingering sweetness on his tongue.

He quickly realized that understanding the law was not merely a tool; it was a weapon. Knowledge of loopholes became his advantage, a means to navigate the convoluted game of governance. But knowing the rules wasn’t enough; he needed to be ruthless. That was where Steve Rogers came into the picture—his mentor, a family friend for years, whose facade of integrity masked a far more sinister reality.

In Bucky’s eyes, Steve had always been perfect, a paragon of virtue. But as time wore on, the veneer began to crack, revealing the monstrous truth lurking beneath.

Steve was a predator cloaked in a hero’s guise. His charming smile belied a voracious greed that left a bloody trail in its wake. It was a shock to discover that Steve had been having an affair with Hazel, and now he was the father of Nate, the child whose very existence felt like a dagger to Bucky’s heart.

This betrayal was too much to bear. Bucky’s hatred for the man he once idolized simmered just below the surface, boiling over as he considered how to dismantle the carefully constructed empire Steve had built. Bucky knew the rules; he understood the political landscape better than most. But how could he bring down someone so deeply entrenched in the system?

Despite all his advantages, Steve believed he was the master of this game. No, he wasn’t. Bucky’s confidence swelled as he acknowledged that Steve’s skills—his war experience, his tactical mind—would ultimately falter against the true currency of politics. In this brutal arena, the real gold was connections and money. Behind every politician lurked unseen puppet masters pulling the strings, and Steve was no exception.

Bucky knew that while Steve had forged connections, he lacked the pedigree that defined the upper echelons of power. Steve had been a nobody until Peggy Carter had invited him into their circle, and that was when they made a monumental mistake—choosing Steve. He might have had his allies, but he would never be blue blood like Bucky and Peggy.

Then there was Peggy. The last straw. Bucky’s heart twisted as he recalled the circumstances of her death. He was all too aware that it had been Steve's machinations that had ultimately led to her demise. Bucky had witnessed the toll it took on her, the way she had struggled under the weight of her decisions, her life unraveling in the shadow of Steve's ambition. Bucky’s hands tightened into fists at the memory.

Caroline had been the voice of caution, her words echoing in his mind: “This is why you never bite the hand that feeds you.”

She may not have been a good mother, but she had been a loyal friend to Peggy, always protecting her interests, ensuring that her secrets remained buried. Bucky could see how easily Caroline could hire an assassin, how she moved through the shadows like a whisper, orchestrating the chaos without ever getting her hands dirty.

He never thought you and Caroline would join forces to rid the world of Steve. With each passing day, Bucky felt the walls closing in, the weight of the decisions he had to make pressing down on him like a vice. Steve would fall; it was only a matter of time.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky stood in the Oval Office, a resolute figure beside the iconic Resolute Desk, a Bible open in front of him. The room was thick with anticipation, everyone watching him intently as he prepared to deliver his vow. His posture was firm, shoulders squared, as he looked around at the faces of his colleagues and allies, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He glanced at the words on the page, drawing strength from their meaning as he readied himself to speak.

With a steady voice, he began, "I stand before you today, not just as your president, but as a servant of the people. I vow to uphold the Constitution, to protect the rights of every citizen, and to work tirelessly for the betterment of our nation. Together, we will fight against corruption and ensure that government truly serves the people. I promise to lead with integrity, to listen to your voices, and to bring about the change we so desperately need."

You stood behind him, pride swelling in your chest as you witnessed Bucky fulfill his promise to become president.

Behind you sat Caroline and Julius, the latter in his wheelchair, their expressions a mix of hope and admiration. Bucky’s oldest brother, Shawn, had called to congratulate him, his voice brimming with encouragement. Your brother Tim stood nearby, a smile on his face, reflecting the joy that filled the room. At the back, Hazel lingered, her posture tense and withdrawn, reluctant to stand close to her family.

As the applause began and everyone congratulated Bucky and you, Natasha approached Hazel, who stood near the corner as if she wanted to hide.

Perhaps she was too embarrassed to be there. Before, she had come to the White House as Steve's mistress, and everyone knew who she was but kept their mouths shut. This time, she was here only as Bucky's sister. “I have something for you,” Natasha said, extending an envelope toward her.

Hazel hesitated, her brows furrowing in confusion. “For me?” she asked, glancing from the letter to Natasha, unsure of what to expect.

Natasha nodded, a subtle smile breaking through her serious exterior. “Yes, it’s from Steve.” With that, she stepped back to take her position.

Hazel’s fingers trembled slightly as she took the letter, the weight of it heavy in her hand. As she opened it, memories flooded back, and she felt a rush of emotions. It was a final message from Steve, words that resonated with her deeply.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as Hazel read the heartfelt letter, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Hazel,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m probably no longer living. And that's okay; I've come to accept it. The world I’ve inhabited has been fraught with danger, and I’ve made choices that have led me here.

Hazel, from the moment I met you, it felt like looking into a mirror—a reflection of my own heart and soul. You brought warmth and light into my life, even when I was lost in darkness. Your strength has always amazed me, and I want you to carry that with you as you move forward.

Live the life you’ve always wanted. I’ve made arrangements for you and Nate, ensuring you both have the financial support you need to thrive.

Please, for our Nate, support him and listen to him. He will need you more than ever now, and I have every confidence in your ability to guide him.

If there is a next life, I hope we never meet again. You deserve someone better than me. Now that I’m gone, please try to forget me and the mistakes I made. I genuinely wish you and Nate nothing but the best.

Steve Rogers

P.S. Don’t worry about the twins. They’ve been independent since they were young and have the Carters to guide them. They’ll be okay."

Tears fell onto the letter as Hazel finished reading it.

“Mom?” Nate's small voice broke through her moment of grief.

Hazel looked down at her son, the last legacy of Steve, and quickly wiped her tears away. “Do you want to visit Uncle Steve?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Nate nodded enthusiastically, his bright eyes shining with admiration. “Yes! He’s a hero for saving Uncle Bucky!”

Hazel flinched at the mention of Bucky, but she forced a smile, wanting to be strong for her son. She knelt down to his level and took his small hands in hers, feeling the warmth of his tiny fingers. With her other hand, she clutched the letter written by Steve, a reminder of his love and hopes for her.

Together, they held hands as they walked, Hazel’s heart swelling with determination. Just as Steve had wished, she would live life to the fullest and be a great mother to Nate.

After Hazel and Nate left, Natasha approached Bucky with a serious expression. “Both of them have left,” she informed him.

Bucky turned to her, his demeanor cool and composed, devoid of any trace of warmth. “She read the letter?” he asked, his voice steady and flat.

“Yes,” Natasha replied, nodding her head.

“Did she believe it?” Bucky pressed, his gaze sharp and focused.

“I hired a professional to copy Steve's signature, and I added a bit of his perfume to the paper,” Natasha explained, her tone measured and confident.

“Good.” Bucky’s expression remained impassive, his eyes betraying no emotion. He had written the letter himself, crafting it to sound like it came from Steve. His intention was clear: he wanted Hazel to move on from Steve, to find a new path without the shadows of the past weighing her down. This was necessary for her future, and he understood the sacrifices it took to ensure that.

“Good job.” Bucky looked at Natasha again, and she nodded in acknowledgment.

It was a curious alliance—how could a loyal supporter of Steve choose to work with Bucky? The answer lay in humanity. Natasha had pledged her loyalty to Steve because he saved her from the chaos of war when she had no one to turn to. In her eyes, he was a hero, and she had turned a blind eye and deaf ear to his misdeeds, including the affair with Hazel.

But everything changed when she witnessed the heartlessness Steve displayed toward Peggy. The righteous man she once admired had morphed into a monster, and her faith in him shattered. With Steve’s death, Natasha reevaluated her principles and decided to align herself with Bucky.

Bucky brought her on board because he recognized her skills and capabilities. He needed people like Natasha—sharp, resourceful, and fiercely dedicated. But he also understood the value of loyalty and did not intend to take it for granted. Their partnership was strategic, grounded in the shared goal of reshaping the political landscape, and Bucky was determined to build a team that could challenge the corruption that had long plagued their world.

“Have you got everything you need?” your voice pulled him away from his thoughts.

“Yes,” he replied, a smile breaking through his usual stoicism as he took your hand in his.

As you both walked through the grand halls of the White House, the sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow on the polished floors. Bucky’s grip on your hand was firm, steady, a reassuring anchor in the midst of the political storm surrounding him.

Bucky had his share of greed, but he loathed those who didn’t know their limits. Among those were his so-called friends, Edgar and Brock. Together with Steve, they formed a trio of self-serving opportunists, always proclaiming their actions were “for the people” while their true motivations were purely selfish—“for me, me, and me.”

What set Bucky apart from Steve, Edgar, and Brock was his ambition to dismantle the very system they thrived in. He wanted to rid politics of corrupt individuals like them, who masqueraded their greed as altruism. Bucky had seen too much of the damage they had inflicted on the community, and he was determined to be the catalyst for change. He refused to become like them.

To clean up the government, he knew he had to start with this corrupt trio. It was a slow and grueling process, requiring patience and strategy, but Bucky was committed to the fight. He would work behind the scenes, gathering evidence, building alliances, and slowly dismantling their influence. It was exhausting, but he was relentless.

His ultimate goal extended beyond simply removing them from power. He envisioned a government rebuilt on integrity, one that truly served the interests of the people rather than the egos of a few. The road ahead was fraught with challenges, but he was willing to face them head-on. Every step he took toward exposing the trio brought him closer to realizing his vision of a more just and equitable political landscape.

As Bucky navigated the murky waters of politics, he felt the weight of his mission pressing down on him. He was no longer just a pawn in the game; he was a player with a purpose. This time, he wouldn’t be silenced. He was determined to take the fight to them, fueled by a deep resolve to expose their hypocrisy and restore honor to a system long tainted by greed.

But alongside you, he realized something important: for an imperfect couple, you both made a perfect team. As you walked together, side by side, it felt like you were crossing a finish line, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Each step was a testament to your shared commitment—a bond forged in trust and understanding, built on the ashes of past mistakes.

You glanced up at him, and in that moment, you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that ignited whenever he believed in something. Together, you were more than just individuals; you were partners united in a common cause, ready to fight for a better future. In the complicated world of power and betrayal, your partnership was a beacon of hope, lighting the way toward justice and change.

-The End-

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who followed this series until the end. This story has its flaws, but I truly appreciate your support and dedication. It was incredibly difficult for me to wrap up this journey and say goodbye to Bucky and his fierce ex-wife. Writing a tale that intertwines politics with romance has been both a challenging and rewarding experience. I've learned so much about character development and the complexities of relationships, and I'm grateful to have shared this journey with all of you. Your feedback and encouragement have meant the world to me.

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marvelavengerspovs1 · 1 day ago

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Comfort

Pairing: Bucky x F!reader

Warnings: Light mention of politics, fluff

Length: 494

Summary: Bucky comforts you during your time in need.

A/N: Normally I’m not one to be overly vocal about my beliefs, but after the shit show that was the election, I can’t not be. If you know me, I believe that everyone deserves rights, no matter who they are, how they identify, who they love, etc. The type of hate that we see now is only going to increase and I cannot stand by and not say anything. My page will always be a safe space for everyone, no matter what. I wrote this partially to comfort myself, but now I am posting it for everyone else who also needs this. To my friends who are going to be affected by this, I am so sorry that this country has failed you. I am sorry that your rights will be affected by this. I am sorry that people carry this immense amount of hate and don’t know how to mind their own business. Know this; My page will be a safe space for you to be yourself, even in this horrible time. You have someone in your corner who will not judge you and cares for your overall well being. We may not know each other, but I support you.

This is not proofread, I just wanted to put this out.

I do not consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You lay in your bed, thinking about life. It’s a tough pill to swallow. There are no words to describe the devastation you feel for your friends and family. You continue to stare up at the ceiling, thinking about how much you wished Bucky was home.

Bucky had left a few days prior on a mission. While it shouldn’t be much longer, you still wished he was home. You wished that you could lay in his arms and cry while he held you, telling you that he would do everything in his power to try to help you.

You are so lost in thought, you don’t hear the front door to your apartment open.

Bucky quietly opens the door, hoping to not disturb you. He gently locks the door and takes off his boots, leaving them by the front door. Alpine is the first to greet him, rubbing against his leg.

Bucky picks her up to pet her, giving her a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “Hey girl, is she still in bed?”

Alpine purrs to say yes and rubs herself on Bucky’s chest. Bucky frowns slightly but he knew you would be like this. He walks to your shared bedroom, knocking on the door.

“Doll?” He asks tentatively.

Your heart jumps before you turn your head. “Hey, Buck.” You whisper with a small smile and tears in your eyes.

Bucky gently puts Alpine on the bed and cuddles up right next to you. “I’m so sorry, Doll.”

You only nod your head and turn your body to be engulfed by him, wrapping your leg around his waist. “You just being here is helping.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, only rubbing your back and kissing your temple as you cry in his arms. If there was anything he could do, he would do it. But that’s not possible and he wants to destroy everything because of it.

“I got you, Doll. You can cry, scream, punch, do whatever you need to do.”

You shake your head. “I just need to be with you.”

Bucky nods. “Then we can lay here and waste the day away. Have you eaten?”

You shake your head once more. “No.”

Bucky frowns slightly. “Doll, you need to eat. It’s almost 3 pm.” Alpine meows in agreement.

“I know, I just couldn’t pull myself out of bed.” You reach for Alpine and she lays between you and Bucky, purring at her favorite humans.

“Ok, well do you want to order food?”

You shake your head and scrunch your face. “I feel like if I eat, I’m going to throw up.”

Bucky looks you in the eyes. “Baby, I know. But you have to eat. How about I make you some toast? It’ll fuel you and isn’t super heavy.”

You nod. “Yeah, ok.”

Bucky kisses your forehead. “I know Doll, but we’ll get through this. I will do everything in my power to make sure that you’ll be ok.”

#avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader fluff

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maisycoded · 2 days ago

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I won’t lie, I’m not shocked he even one just because America always has the need to support the “ anti hero” or self proclaimed “ underdog” and so on. But what I will say is I never want to hear anyone talk about banding together or doing the right thing because ( with the exception of people who did take it seriously) most of everyone where posting their ballots writing joke shit on them, despite project 2025 being released to the public people did not see how much of a treat it is to not just black, LGBTQ+ and immigration rights, healthcare, but the rights of human beings at large

So with that said, I don’t want to hear anyone between now and the next four years talk about how books are getting censored or banned, free speech is dead, women’s rights are gone, people can’t get married or live their gay/queer dreams or story, how “ well I mean it won’t be that bad” because it will, and honestly the fact that no one understands this is going to be our generations reagan years is beyond me at this point

And with that said, I don’t want to hear shit also from anyone if people start becoming cynical, disinfectant or disenfranchised. The people are now un motivated, slackers, and the way pervious generations were seen from the 80’s-90’s. Because not only trump being president is bad enough now republicans have the house again and we all know what hell that will bring

I never want to hear about unity or coming together when we didn’t do that, the people who are a minority and still voted for him especially people of color, hispanics and so on even though our people have been though it for years we still looked at a convicted felon and facist and said “ well Kamala was against weed in the 90’s, even though she changed we hate her so fuck her” or “ well trump is friends with ( insert poc celebrities here)” is so fucking beyond me

So with that said, fuck this election, fuck the next four years, fuck everyone who failed at basic common sense and most of all fuck everyone who did the “ they are both bad imma not vote” shit because it’s not about electing a role model, all presidents are bad people, but that does not mean you elect a proven racist, rapist and vile human being over a flawed woman who’s not those things and wouldn’t put us thought the shit we will deal with now

If you voted for him, fuck you

If you where against Kamala for hypocritical standards, fuck you

If you are older and complain that todays youth is out of control and doesn’t care anymore and is angst ridden and is cynical and wants nothing to do with anything, fuck you

And if anyone shames people with moderate or severe mental illness and they can’t get help now moving forward, people have breakdowns and lose their shit, fuck you

We failed at doing our one job, and that is looking out for each other and making this bat shit country a safe place for us and tomorrow’s youth

#pride #trans #gen z #election 2024 #us elections #2024 presidential election #lgbtq community #lgbt pride #angst #lgbtqia #four years of hell #fuck everyone

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honeyjars-sims · 2 days ago

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3.35 Sticky Situation

It’s the second day of our camping trip and I’m realizing that even when she’s on vacation, Lucy is still in work mode. With the spotty cell service on the mountain, she’s not able to do any actual work so she’s channeling all of her energy into making sure things run smoothly on the trip.

She was up before the rest of us this morning cleaning up our mess from the night before and now that everyone’s awake, she’s been looking for things to do. “We should gather more firewood,” she says.

“We have all day to do that,” I tell her. “Just relax. This is a vacation, remember?”

“I know, but I can’t relax when there are things that need to be done. I always get like this when I’m…on vacation.” I have a feeling there’s more going on but before I can ask her about it, Paul jumps in.

“Well, if you can’t relax until things are done, then at least let someone else do it,” he insists. He turns to me. “John and I can gather up some firewood while you get in some relaxation.”

I start to protest the suggestion–I always hate it when I get roped into hard labor just because I’m a guy–but Lucy looks so relieved that I decide to let it go. “Yeah, we’ll take care of it,” I say instead, and Paul and I head off into the woods.

We barely make it a few feet before Paul starts droning on about how you want to make sure you get the right type of wood, and you have to make sure the pieces you pick aren’t too wet, and blah, blah, blah. “Yeah, yeah,” I cut in. “If I have to do this, then I’m gonna do it my way.”

“Oh? What’s your way? If you have any insights, I’m happy to hear them.”

“It’s pretty simple. Is this wood? If yes, then I pick it up.”

“Hmm, ok,” he says, sounding uncertain. “I suppose we’ll see how that goes tonight.”

“I guess we will.”

“You’re kind of competitive aren’t you?” he asks.

I feel my face growing hot, remembering how I tried–and failed–to show him up on our last hiking trip. “Uh, not really,” I mutter.

“Oh, so, it’s just with me then?” His words would sound confrontational if not for the softness of his tone. He seems more curious than argumentative.

“Look, I’m sorry about all of that. I was just feeling a little insecure with all of the attention you were getting from the girls. I’m trying to be more mature about it, though.”

“Ahh, the girls,” he replies. “That’s what that was about. I don’t see what you’re so insecure about, though.”

“Well, I mean, you’re going to be a doctor, and you’re more athletic than I am.” Spelling out my insecurities isn’t exactly making me feel better about them.

Paul shrugs. “I don’t even start med school until the fall,” he counters. “Besides, you had everyone laughing and that’s something I’ve never been good at. In fact, I’m famous in my family for telling the worst jokes.”

“Oh, really?” I ask, excited for an opportunity to pass on some advice about something I’m good at. “In my opinion, the main thing people get wrong about comedy is that they try too hard to be funny instead of just finding opportunities naturally.”

“You think so? Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong.”

“It could be. Go ahead, just say what comes to mind without thinking too much about whether or not it’s funny.”

“Uh, ok, what’s brown and sticky?” he asks.

“I don’t know, what is it?”

“A stick!”

This is not a good joke. Like objectively it’s not, but he has this huge grin on his face like he’s standing on stage at a sold out comedy show, and I can’t help but laugh with him. Not in a mean way; he’s so pleased with himself that it’s kind of endearing. “It was good?” he asks eagerly.

“Well…” I choose my words carefully. “Maybe the joke wasn’t the best, but I think you have the right attitude. I’m sure if you start looking out for the humor in different situations then it’ll start coming naturally to you.”

“Ok, well, thanks for the feedback.”

“No problem. We should probably start gathering up that wood. What did you say we should look for again?”

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

#posting this early bc i need a distraction #sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 story #simblr #sims storytelling #sims story #sims community #show us your story #simlit #stksafeharbor #safeharborstory #sh:chapter3 #sh:johnny #sh:lucy #sh:paul #oc: lucy dimarco #oc: paul dimarco

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gpcwsl · 2 days ago

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Warnings: swearing, suggestive, haven’t read through it.

Leah Williamson x !Reader:

Oh, what a night.

A roar. A roar of noise from the home fans. Them seeing the time on the score. 123 minutes have passed. The fans whistling, shouting, calling out for the referee to blow their whistle. It’s two to one, England winning. So close to win the Euros. So close to change women’s football forever. So close.

Y/n has got the ball, all she knows what to do is boot it away. Then the referee should blow. Magull, the scorer for Germany rushes towards her. However, Y/n being the calm player she is, dribbles past her. She sees Alessia running away and to the Germany goal. Even if this doesn’t reach Alessia’s feet, Y/n knows that the end. The referee will blow and they have won. She knows.

Y/n boots it over to Alessia. And, as she does the noice the players and home fans all want to hear. The screams were almost deafening. But, no one cared. Y/n crashed. Her knees gave up. She’s on the ground, her head resting on the grass that she played on for over an hour. Tears almost threatening to spill as she takes in what her and her friends have achieved.

Her felt an arm pull her up. Not caring who it was she fell right into them. Her head stuffed in the person neck. She didn’t know who it was until they spoke. “We did it.”

Smiling at the voice she lifts her head up, looking right at her. “Fucking hell Leah, i’m exhausted.”

A laughed escaped her lips as she nods her head. “Yeah, me too.” She kissed the top of Y/N’s head. Before Alessia and Ella pulled them away, joining in at the celebration with the team. The night went on. Champagne was drank. Bodies on the dance floor.

It’s now 21:34pm. Every single one of the girls were still partying harder than ever. They are now at there hotel bar. Music blasting, which everyone sung too.

Y/n goes to the bar to grab another drink. Seeing another fellow teammate there. Creeping up behind her. “Hey-“

“Fucking Christ- Y/n!”

Y/n giggled, before turning to the bartender ordering her normal drink she gets. “Sorry, Lee.”

Leah scoffs, shaking her head but smiling softly at her. “Are you?”

Y/n looked back at her, smiling back softly at her, looking around her whole face, marking Leah’s details all around her face before answering. “No, I’m not.” She pulls her eyes away from her only to grab her drink once the bartender passes it to her.

Y/n turns around to face Leah, to notice that she has moved closer to me and is staring right at me. I smile at her and she smiles back. “Hi.”

“Hey…” Leah trials off, her eyes never leaving mine. Which is common for Leah. She can hold eye contact better than Y/n staying on her own feet. “You look… gorgeous.”

Y/n instantly became red. Her eyes leaving Leah’s to compose herself. Leah has always been such a flirt and it’s has always gotten Y/n blushing like crazy. And, Leah always sees it. “I mean it, Y/n/n.” Leah mumbled.

“Stop.” Y/n whispers, placing her drink down on the table they were next too. Before sitting down on one side of the booth. “Why?” Leah asks, following Y/N’s movements. Sitting down next to her.

“You making me-“ Y/n pauses mid sentence. Slightly re-thinking the words she was about to fall out her mouth, before sighing looking back at Leah. “Making me want to kiss you.”

“And that’s a problem how?” Leah asks, her right hands brushes up on Y/N’s cheekbone. “I’ve always had trouble finding how I’m feeling. Especially when it comes to girls.” Leah whispers.

“But, with you- I don’t know, it just makes sense.” Leah mutter, her eyes trying to find Y/N’s as she keeps looking at the floor. “Look at me, please.”

Y/n immediately looks up, her breath hitching as her eyes connect with Leah’s. Leah continues to talk in an effort to open her feelings. The feelings she’s been feeling for a little while.

“I knew my feelings for you while I was still in a relationship with Jordan. That was one of the reason’s we broke up.” Leah murmurs, now both of her hands cupping her cheeks now fully making sure Y/n doesn’t pull or look away.

“You have feelings for me?” Y/n asks, her eyes soften. Her eyes now fully never leaving Leah’s. Fully concentrated on the conversation and confession. “So fucking much.” Leah whispers.

There faces are closing in closer and closer. Like a moth to a flame. Moth is them and the flame the other’s lips.

“If- we shouldn’t do this here. Someone could be filming and it could be on the internet.” Y/n mumbles, her eyes never leaving Leah’s lips. “Yeah…” Leah trials off. “But, I don’t care.”

The hands cupping Y/N’s cheeks, suddenly pulls her in. Their lips meeting eachother’s perfectly. Y/n froze just for a few seconds before her hands came out to wrap around Leah’s waist. Her lips moving in sync with Leah’s. The kiss was slow, but gradually sped up as their hands wander over the other’s body.

Loads of thoughts rushed into Y/N’s and Leah’s head. The main one was the kiss and how gentle and loving the other kissed. But the one that was a problem was the aftermath. Either of them pulled away though. It could easily be the alcohol speaking.

Leah started to move forward, the legs intertwined together. Straddling almost. They hand’s which, Leah’s around Y/N’s wait and Y/n hanging round Leah’s neck. Leah gently bits down on Y/N’s bottom lip making her grunt, opening her mouth. She slips her tongue into Y/N’s mouth.

Before anything more could happen. Whistles from afar could be heard. Y/n was the one to pull away as Leah couldn’t care less. Y/n looks over to see some of her teammates looking over to them.

“Oi! Get a room!” Mary yells, laughing along with Alessia and Ella. Leah rolls her eyes but gradually takes Y/N’s hand. Pulling her up. “Gladly.” Leah yells back, flipping Alessia and Ella off as they made kissy jokes.

Leah grabs her bag off Ella who winked before walking down the hallway trying to find her room. Once she does she grabs her keycard from her bag, swiping the card she rushing into the door her hand never letting go of Y/n’s

“Leah-“ she gets shut up by Leah pushing her up against the door and a pair of lips meeting hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/n arms wrap around Leah’s next again, pulling her closer.

Leah then trials her kisses to Y/N’s neck. Kissing the skin gently but with a little bit of aggressiveness. Y/n tilts her head back, enjoying the feeling of Leah’s lips on her body. Her right hand holding Leah in place. Not wanting her to stop.

“No hickeys.” Y/n mumbles, but knowing Leah won’t care about that and that she will proudly leave quite a few. “Oh, god.”

Leah’s lips trails up to Y/N’s ear whispering. “Bed, baby.” Y/N’s knees nearly folded.

Y/n pushes her chest forward, making her bad Leah walk backwards. Once Leah’s let’s touch the bed, Y/n pushes her onto it.

Leah pushes back into the bed, before grabbing Y/n by the waist bringing her down won’t her. Y/n now straddling Leah.

Leah hold her in place, biting her lips. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Y/n smiles softly at her before leaning down to kiss her again. Leah’s hands immediately move up to her head, keeping her in place.

Y/n gradually moved her hips back and forth. To which Leah groans to. “Fuck, baby.” Her hands now back on Y/N’s waist, helping her move. “Gosh.”

The night was wonderful for the two. They won the euros, they finally confessed their feeling and felt something they haven’t for a while.

And let’s just say Mary and Ella who is right next door to them the whole night, didn’t get any sleep whatsoever.

#leah williamson #alessia russo #woso community #woso fanfics #lionesses #ella toone #mary earps

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glade-constellation · 8 hours ago

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Man, I really feel like today’s LAES episode was an agreement to my character analysis post (not literally but all my points were there). Everything Earth talked about and explained was my exact feelings on the matter. Sun is in immense grief. Moon was doing nothing. Lunar is doing worse than nothing. Solar is the only other competent one in the situation, and he’s also probably feeling like shit.

It’s so upsetting when Earth is hurt because people never ask her if she’s okay unless she brings it up. Solar was the only one to ask so far. He only left her when she told him she would talk with Monty about it, and expressed she would feel guilt about putting her problems on him when he is going through his own. She is always placed on the back burner and is rarely ever comforted outside of when she asks for it.

I almost feel bad for saying she was going to be the best off in this situation because she very much isn’t. She is grieving too, but she’s having to pick up where Moon and Lunar are slacking off and doesn’t have time to process her feelings herself. She expressed several times how upsetting it was that she has barely any help taking care of Dazzle on top of her own work. She’s also had to pick up their slack at the Daycare, since Sun can’t come in and Lunar isn’t actually the best at his job by himself. She needs someone to help her right now, and I’m so glad Monty was able to step in and help. It made my opinion his reaction to all this change very quickly.

Her feelings on the matter are also just heartbreaking. She cares so much for Nexus, and any time she tried to express it Lunar would brush it off. Tell her that he didn’t care about Nexus. That, in a way, probably felt like he was telling Earth “I don’t care about your problems because they don’t interest me”. Stuff like that alongside his already spiraling relationship with her is causing a riff she doesn’t need right now. It’s something she simply can’t deal with on top of literally everything else.

Since this episode was set before Moon started helping, I am glad that Moon finally did help. But Lunar is still dragging his feet on this whole thing. “He wasn’t my brother, I was never close to him, I genuinely don’t care”. Then he’s all surprised when Sun was genuinely upset over Nexus’ death. Like he’s projecting his feeling onto everyone else. He didn’t care, so why does Sun? Every episode I watch leads me to believe more and more that Lunar’s entire sense of being is being changed by this Star power. Even if he is an animatronic, he still used to act very human. After the Astrals entered the picture though, he has slowly began to act more like them. Hearing that Earth feels the same way really validated my feelings on this. Literally used the word apathetic, like I did in my earlier character analysis post.

All in all, I am desperately waiting for Earth to get the help and time she needs. Because I do not want to watch her try and bottle this all up. I am so very thankful that Monty is willing to help her and that she has an outlet. If Monty wasn’t there, I think Earth might have eventually snapped. I don’t think that outcome would have been pretty, especially between herself and Lunar.

#🌟 Ten Talks #late night rambling but I needed to talk about Earth #she deserves everything #tsams #sams #laes #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show #lunar and earth show #tsams earth #tsams lunar

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apomaro-mellow · 16 hours ago

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Hawkins Confidential Part 1 of ?

Read on AO3

Steddie; other minor pairings; omegaverse; 1990s

Richard Harrington is dead and finally, as Steve's husband, Tommy is set to inherit quite a lot. Unfortunately for him, there is a condition in the will and that means Steve has to contact the true sire of his pup, Eddie. aka here's that soap opera au i've been wanting to do >:3c

The organ droned as people walked up solemnly and gave their respects.The air was stale except for the few who went without scent blockers, children mostly. And not everyone in high society thought it was prudent to hide their scent. Steve was one of them.

“Everyone can smell your grief”, his mother whispered as she leaned over.

“I’m grieving. It’s a funeral”, Steve whispered back.

“I know you didn’t care for your father that much. It’s perfectly natural to care about your child but Dustin still has breath in his lungs, thank God. Your father deserves to at least have your respect in death.” She whipped her fan open and fanned herself and Steve knew that was the end of that conversation.

When the procession moved to the grave plot, Steve walked with his mother on one side and his husband Tommy on the other. Tommy had his arm around Steve’s shoulder. A show of solidarity. His father was laid to rest and Steve had a sliver of hope that the leash around his neck would finally loosen.

“It’s our time now, Stevie”, Tommy murmured in his ear.

And Steve knew what that meant. The three of them, his mother, Tommy, and he went to meet with the executor of his father’s will. There wasn’t anything in it that surprised Steve. His mother got what she expected and so did Steve.

“And to my son-in-law Thomas, who has graciously taken the Harrington name, per our agreement, I leave the entirety of my shares of Harrington Industries, along with my land ownings and the houses in California and Virginia. All this is yours, provided you have had a healthy heir with my son Steven.”

Tommy smirked. Smug and just barely holding back from whooping with glee. He was not wearing blockers so everyone in the room could smell it.

“Well, that’s that, isn’t it?”, Tommy said. “Where do I sign?”

“Not so fast, Mr. Harrington”, the executor held up a withered hand. “Richard Harrington specified a healthy heir. And as I understand, your son is in the hospital?”

Tommy’s smirk fell. “Yeah. But what of it? He’s gonna make a recovery!”

“And when he does, we may sign away. But until such a time…”, the old man trailed off to let Tommy fill in the blanks.

Steve didn’t want to think about his pup not getting better. If he lost his Dustin-

“What happens if they don’t have an heir?”, his mother asked.

“Should that happen, madam, your husband has outlined instructions that I am to keep concealed until it is certain that these two have failed their condition.”

Tommy grumbled all the way out of the office. They were on their way to the hospital. Steve visited everyday, but now he was sure Tommy’s coming along was just to see if Dustin’s health had improved. Steve smiled and nodded to the nurses he saw regularly. It felt almost like bad luck to see his pup when he was still wearing black from the funeral. But he had wanted to see him right away.

Steve could look at Dustin, pale and limp in the bed and knew he wasn’t getting any better. Tommy discussed at length with the doctor outside anyway. Steve could hear his husband getting more and more agitated even behind the closed door. He chose to ignore it for now, grabbing Dustin’s hand and rubbing his knuckles.

“We said goodbye to grandpa today. Everyone came out to see him, even Aunt Seline and you know how she is.”

Of course, the unconscious boy wasn’t responsive. His chest moved up and down slowly. But that was it. Steve sniffed back tears and scent both Dustin and the little stuffed giraffe he kept under his pillow that he thought no one knew about. Steve put it back under the pillow right when Tommy opened the door and crooked his finger for Steve to come out into the hallway.

Steve obeyed with a sigh and walked out, closing the door just in time for Tommy to start raising his voice.

“I can’t believe this! First that cranio bullshit-”

“Cleidocranial dysplasia”, Steve corrected for what must be the millionth time.

“And now this!”, Tommy pressed on. “His genes are shit, Steve.”

“That’s your son!”, Steve hissed.

“That pup isn’t mine! He never fucking was!”

“You’ve been raising him for eight years and all of a sudden-”

“We need to have another child”, Tommy suddenly said.

The air left Steve’s lungs. “...H…what? What’re you-you’re not replacing my pup!”

“If he’s not going to make it-”

“He can! He could!” Steve’s heart was beating rapidly. “He needs an operation and a donor.”

“Then why the fuck haven’t we done that already?”, Tommy growled.

“Because my dad forbid me from contacting the only man who can do it”, Steve glared. “And you said it yourself that if I ever did you would leave me and Dustin out on the streets.”

Tommy looked conflicted, which was new for him. He didn’t always make the most noble decision, but he did always make it quickly. After a moment, he swallowed and nodded.

“Call him and get him here by the end of the week. Or you and I are going to have some marital duties to take care of.”

Steve sighed. The odds were against him and the clock was ticking. They went home together and Steve changed, hoping Chrissy would be at the country club today. He wore a red sweater to combat the fall chill and was glad to see her at her usual table.

“Chrissy Carver, as I live and breathe”, Steve said, his greeting well practiced.

“Steve Harrington, I wasn’t expecting to see you here today. Come, sit”, she offered graciously.

Carol and Heather were seated too. Carol had been at the funeral. Heather too. Chrissy was the only one who had not attended.

“I’m sorry about your father. My condolences”, Chrissy said.

“She would have joined your family in mourning if she’d gotten an invitation”, Carol said before bringing her cup of coffee up to her lips to sip.

“And we would have appreciated the Carver’s presence”, Steve said. “But my mother…old grudges, you know.”

“I know”, Chrissy nodded with compassion.

“Actually, I was hoping I could talk with you about some of the student events coming up this semester. I think Dustin’s on the mend, which means he’ll be going back to school soon and I wouldn’t want any of the activities to be too strenuous for him.”

“Oh, we can absolutely talk about that”, Chrissy said. “And since this involves sensitive student info…ladies?”

Carol and Heather stood up and walked off, taking their coffees with them. Any other time, Steve would be wary of them finding out. But considering what he was really going to ask, he was sure his secret was safe with Chrissy.

“So what is this really about?”, Chrissy asked.

“I need you to tell me how to get into contact with Eddie.”

Chrissy’s eyes widened and she sat back in her chair. “Oh…wow I…I haven’t heard that name in a while. Steve, are you sure now is a good time?”

“Dustin might not have time if I wait any longer.”

Chrissy took her planner out of her pocketbook and wrote something down. “We don’t talk. Not really. But he keeps me up to date with his numbers just in case I….well, you know, just in case.” She tore the page out and handed it to Steve.

“I hope he answers.”

“He will”, Chrissy smiled, her eyes a little watery. “And don’t worry about the vultures. I’ll throw them off the trail.”

“Thank you”, Steve breathed out.

When he got home, he paced about the phone, trying to work up the courage before dialing. It rang and his heart jumped in his throat only to hear the voicemail message.

“You’ve reached Eddie Munson. I mean, you haven’t but you know what I mean. Leave a message or whatever.”

Steve scoffed, incredulous and hung up before dialing again. He clicked to leave a voicemail but all he could get out what “The nerve!”, before slamming the phone back down. Then he dialed again, knowing he had to leave more information than that.

“You’re a grown man, your outgoing message should be more professional than that, you might as well be using an air horn.” Click.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be berating you in the first place, that’s not why I called I…I wanted to tell you….” Click.

Steve moved from the bedroom to the kitchen. He was going to need more alcohol to make this call. He made his next call after two glasses. And then a few more after a full bottle. And then he decided to move on to beer. Steve was awakened the next day by the sound of their chef, Scott, coming on.

“Mr. Harrington, you’ve got to get up now.”

Steve groaned, his head swimming. Then he realized where he was and what time it was.

“Oh god. Did Tommy?”

“He’s still asleep and he will be until he’s served breakfast. But you’ve got to get.”

Steve had enough sense to be sure Eddie’s number was still on him and not just lying around. Tommy might have urged him to call. But if he found out Steve had been drunk dialing him all night…he didn’t even want to think about it. He went upstairs to change and shower off the stench of beer and wine. He knew he must have really sounded like a fool and could only hope Eddie would parse through the nonsense and get his message.

-----------------------

Eddie was surprised to come that night to his phone blinking red, telling him he had messages. He was about to press the button, then refrained.

“It’s probably the shop. And I am off the clock.” He turned the tv on and kicked his feet up, lounging the night away and falling asleep on the couch.

The next morning, he woke up to the phone ringing and picked up. “Yeah? Yeah, hello? I’m up.”

“Hey, how satisfied are you with your current auto insurance?”

“Very”, Eddie said before hanging up. Damn telemarketers. That was probably who left a message yesterday. Eddie pressed the button to listen, ready to just start deleting when he heard that there were twelve new messages. That is until he heard the voice on the other end.

“You’re a grown man, your outgoing message should be more professional than that, you might as well be using an air horn.”

A bit snooty and bratty, just as he remembered it. And then they went on and there was that warmth he remembered too. And then he started to get sloppy and Eddie could tell he’d started drinking.

“The wine bottle’s empty and I don’t feel like goin to the cellar so beer it is. Remember, ‘member when you and I would drink? Do you still like Pabst Blue Ribbon?” Steve snickered on the line. “That time, that time you and I were drinkin’ and we ran out of-god I don’t even remember THAT beer-but we ran out so we a-started drinking PBR and then you panicked because you had your PBR and Wayne had his and we had drunk his and so we were gonna make beer cheese soup for him but then we had to use more PBR and we were high too so we thought Wayne was gonna kill us so we just sat in his room and waited to be punished?”

Eddie most certainly did remember nights like that. His chest tightened, wondering if Steve was just calling him because he felt nostalgic when-

“I can’t remember if I told you already why I’m calling. It’s uh…it’s your son. Our son.” Steve sniffed and took a deep breath. “He’s so beautiful Eddie. And I’m-I’m sorry that you haven’t gotten to see how amazing he is. He’s smart. Smart like you. He doesn’t get shit from me except being a wiseass and that’s mostly you too. But he….he’s sick. Our pup is dy-he’s not doing too well. He needs you. He needs a donor and you’re the only one who can help. You don’t have to worry about my father. He’s dead. Please. I know I fucked up but our baby deserves to live.”

That was the last message. Eddie hung up and then ran upstairs to start packing. It’d take him at least a day to get back to Indiana. But if he put the lead out, maybe he could cut it in half.

“Time for a reunion.”

Part 2 coming soon

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #a/b/o #omegaverse

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sanccharine · 3 days ago

Text

05:53 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo needs a fucking break

warning: feelings of anxiety and burn out, brief mentions of killing and weapons (generally assassination related themes)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: assassin!momo is here early bc of indigo, everyone say 'thank you indigo' !!! NEED TO MAKE THIS EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE, AS USUAL I DIDN'T DO SHIT <3

“Good work in Johor Bahru, 64. The organization wants you to leave for Bergen right away. Proceed to the airport immediately. I’ll be sending over travel details soon.”

You were met with silence.

“64? Can you hear me?” Momo didn’t answer.

You sighed, “64, I know it’s a bit of a long flight.” That was the understatement of the century. “But at least that’ll give you some time to recuperate before the next mission, right?”

“I don’t need to recuperate,” Momo mumbled.

You hesitated for a moment. Clearly, she needed the rest, you didn’t know why she wasn’t being honest.

“Listen, 64, I know it’s hard—” you began.

“I don’t think you do,” Momo let out a derisive laugh. You swallowed the rest of your sentence.

“Alright, I’ve obviously hit a nerve but I think—”

“I’m not asking you to think! Or sympathise! Or whatever it is you’re trying to do,” Momo spat. “Maybe just do your part of the job and I do mine, yeah, Hippolyta?”

This was a new development. But not unfounded.

“Sorry,” she said after a few seconds of awkward silence, the waver in her breath caught by your sensitive earpiece. “Sorry, I’m just tired, alright? Please go on.”

“Uh, alright, as I was saying. After this, your Costa Rica mission has been pushed forward by a week. The client wants the cartel taken out as soon as possible,” it was difficult to give her the next order. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave for San Jose as soon as you wrap up in Bergen, 64.”

You tried not to let the disappointment show in your voice. Your organization was currently going through an overdrive, which meant more missions kept piling on, leaving no rest for Momo. It had been weeks since you had last seen your wife, last hugged her, or held her.

She reflected your disappointment as she just sighed. It must be harder for her.

“Hey, 64,” it was so hard to be personable when you couldn’t say her name. You hoped your voice made up for it. “I’m sorry, I know—”

“You know nothing!”

Whatever calm had come across her in the last few minutes instantly vanished.

“You know nothing of what it’s like! What it’s like to be out here for hours on end! To stalk and hunt and kill! Actually, you know, it’s not even about lying in the dirt, or carrying around heavy weaponry, or eating shit for days just to stay undercover. That I can deal with,” Momo let out another scoff. “It’s the waiting that gets to you—it’s the travel, it’s the constant seeking of approval just to get back home… ”

Once she started, it was hard to control everything bursting out of her. Although she had become pretty comfortable with Hippolyta, and often shared random conversations with them, this was the first time she had let anything personal spill. You couldn’t help but startle initially, but now you just sat there taking the verbal lashing. This wasn’t your fault, you were aware of that much. So why did it feel like it was?

“Mo… hmm, I—” you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying her name. Your heart ached for her. Not just because she was away from you, but also because you couldn’t share this burden with her. You couldn’t help her lighten the load.

Not as her handler. Not as her Y/N.

You waited for Momo’s breath to even out. When she didn’t say anything, you decided to start again.

“I may not know what it’s like being out on the field,” you had to tread carefully here. “But I do understand what it’s like being away from your loved one.”

Your breath hitched when you admitted that. Neither of you had ever let something this personal come into your agent-handler relationship before.

“It’s just the kind of job we signed up for,” that’s all this was. A job. “I won’t deny it’s a shitty situation, but after that one week, you’re done. You can go home. I promise you that.”

The long silence almost had you double-checking the connection of the call.

“Hey, 64, you there?”

You were met with silence.

“Agent, I need an affirmation.”

“... Alright,” she whispered.

It wasn’t much, but you’d take it. After all, Momo had never strayed from official orders before. Not enough to risk her job, at least.

“Wait, what? So you’re telling me—”

“Yup, I’m in Bergen right now.”

“Woah, how did that happen? That must’ve been an insane journey!” you sounded fake to your own ears. You hoped Momo didn’t catch on.

“Yeah, remember when I didn’t answer any of your texts a few days ago?” Momo let out a laugh, there was no mirth to it. “I was on a plane the whole time.”

“I just assumed you lost track of time playing Candy Crush or something.”

That did bring a real laugh out of her.

“Well, that too,” she said. “Did you know I’m on level 651 now?”

“Real impressive, babe,” you said toying with the earpiece, discarded on the coffee table from your last call. “But anyways, when are you coming back from Bergen then?”

She paused. You saw her pacing around her stuffy hotel room as she hesitantly answered. “Well, actually, I don’t think I can come home right away. They’re sending me to Costa Rica tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the tiny box on the screen from time to time. You hated how fake your expressions looked, how you couldn’t be honest with her even when she needed you most.

“I’m so sorry. It’s some internal management thing,” Momo let out a frustrated groan. “They need someone who’s at a higher position to open up the San Jose branch. Just my luck it happened to be me they chose.”

Momo’s disappointed tone broke your heart. You knew this was coming, of course you did, but hearing it once again from your wife’s mouth made the distance much too real all over again.

Still, you tried for a smile.

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure San Jose will be fun. I’ve heard they have amazing museums there!” Knowing how upset Momo was about the constant travel made you want to try harder to be supportive. “Maybe you can go and take goofy pictures in front of the sculptures like we did that one time in Prague, remember?”

Unfortunately, it seemed that no efforts to cheer her up would work this time. She let out another long groan and threw herself on the bed. Bringing the phone really close to her face, she said, “I really just wanted to come back home. I’m sorry I keep doing this to you.”

Shit. Of all the times to have video called Momo.

Averting your eyes from her teary ones so that you wouldn’t cry too, you attempted to comfort her.

“I know how tiring it must be to constantly travel, don’t beat yourself up over it, Momo. And don’t worry about me, okay! I’m fine, truly! I’ll keep everything up and running here while you whip rookies out there into shape. It’s what we do, right?” you were trying to convince yourself instead of her. “Besides, Mr Jones invited us for dinner and I know you really don’t want to have to sit through that again, right?”

“Still, though,” she whispered, “you shouldn't have to go through that by yourself. I'd rather sit through that than here all alone.”

Oh Momo. If only she knew that you were aware of what she was going through.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll distract him and ask about his ‘good ol’ golfing days’. That’ll have him chattering on for hours,” she chuckled at that, although it was muffled since half her face was pressed into the pillow. “And I’ll also go down to the store and buy those berries you like so I have a pie ready for you when you come home. We’ll spend our time relaxing. How does that sound?”

She nodded sleepily. Momo must be exhausted to the point of falling asleep right there on call.

You doubted she heard you but said it anyway.

“Have a good night, Momo. I love you.”

[11:52] Momo: im boarding now Y/N: Have a safe flight! See you soon <3 Momo: me too, cant wait to be home aaaaa Y/N: I’ll be waiting with your pie!

[16:37] Momo: just landed! Y/N: How was the flight? Momo: eh Momo: were you gonna pcik me up or should i take a cab Y/N: You’ll have to get a cab, sorry. I tried rescheduling it but the town committee meetup is at our place tonight. Momo: omg i legit forgot they still did those Momo: i can take a cab dw Momo: you must be so busy Y/N: Yeah, I’m just making sure all the snacks and drinks are ready. Y/N: Might have to make one more grocery run actually.

[17:20] Momo: found a cab Momo: should be home in 40 mins

She sighed. You must be really busy or else you rarely left her on read.

As the cab neared your street, she could see a crowd of people already gathered around the house. This was what living in a small town was like. Everyone knew each other, and so of course, offered to get together to help for any event you held, no matter how small.

They have nothing better to do with their lives.

Okay. Perhaps, that was a bit harsh.

Thankfully, Momo managed to slip into the house, unnoticed by all the townsfolk laying out chairs and tables filled with plates of snacks that you had made. Her stomach grumbled upon seeing all the food, but she hurried upstairs into your shared bedroom before dropping her suitcase and rushing to change out of her travel clothes.

What she really wanted was a long hot shower, maybe even a soak in the tub, but fresh clothes would have to do for now. On her way out of the room and down the stairs, she bumped into you.

“Y/N!” she yelled the same time you screamed. “Momo!”

This would be an incredibly stupid way to die, the voice in the back of your head said, you shushed it quickly and leaned on the stairway railing. The shock had subsided quickly and was replaced by elation; you hugged Momo as hard as you could with the cutlery in your hand.

You broke apart apologetically. “I’m sorry, I wish you could take a rest but the meeting’s starting soon and we’re still missing a few things.”

“No worries,” Momo shrugged it off, though there was no energy in her voice. “Anything I can do to help?”

You passed over the handful of cutlery to her as you hurriedly stated, “Yeah, could you just lay these out for me? And I think we still need to pour some juice for all the kids.”

Momo nodded and went down the stairs two at a time. As she rounded into the kitchen, she wished she’d taken a minute to mentally prepare herself for all the questions the neighbours would no doubt ask her.

She was right. As soon as she went over to the table, she heard. “Oh Momo, when did you get back? Y/N was telling us how you were away for really long.”

Momo forced on a polite smile, she had no idea who she was talking to. Perhaps having files on her neighbours might help, she thought to herself. She made a mental note to ask Y/N how they remembered all these people. “Yes, I had to travel quite a lot for some business-related things, but I’m just glad to be home now.”

“Where was it you went to? Malaysia, was it?” Momo’s vision blurred for a second. “I remember Y/N telling us we had to cancel the meeting two weeks ago.”

“Mhmm, Malaysia. Then Norway. Now, I just got back from Costa Rica.” Might as well just tell them everything. Sure, why not. Momo tried not to be scornful, she really did.

“Good Lord, Momo! How do you even manage all that?” That was something Momo wondered herself. “It sure is nice you have Y/N to manage everything here for you while you’re away.”

A burning sensation grew at the corner of her eyes, she would’ve rubbed them if her hands weren’t full of forks and spoons.

It was a seemingly unharmful statement.

Well, no.

There was a bite in there somewhere, Momo was just too exhausted to dissect it.

Momo ignored the scratchy feeling in her throat and turned away hurriedly, mumbling something about getting the juice out. As she approached the refrigerator, she unceremoniously dropped the cutlery on the counter. She opened the fridge, the cold air doing little to alleviate her tension. When she pulled out the carton of apple juice, she was undertaken with the sudden urge to leave. Being at this gathering was taking more of a toll on her than she had thought.

Momo needed to be alone. Now.

She walked into the pantry and into the cabinet Y/N made sure to leave empty ever since they’d found out about her meditation space. Well, Momo thought bitterly, it wasn’t just a meditation space now, was it?

Momo crouched down, hugging her knees and seeking comfort in the familiar darkness. She could still hear the faint voices of people as they rushed around the house, but this was the best she could do right now.

When Momo closed her eyes, she could feel every muscle pull taut. A headache bloomed at her temple, building down her face until even the act of breathing felt painful. She tried to focus on the warm scent of the ciabatta loaves you always had stocked up. How the bread broke and crumbled as she took a bite. How adamant you’d been to get the best stand mixer available. How you took your time to shape the dough and how Momo had flattened it with one motion.

What she wouldn’t do to just have a simple sandwich with you.

No loud music. No clanging cutlery. And definitely no nosy neighbours.

Just the two of you.

The pain seemed to slowly ebb away, she could finally breathe. Momo had no idea how long she stayed like that. She didn’t want to leave but she couldn’t even text Y/N to apologise for leaving them alone because she’d forgotten her phone with her luggage.

However, she didn’t have to wait long before the pantry door opened.

Momo hid herself deeper in the cabinet when a knock came on its door, an excuse ready on her lips should she be found…

“Momo,” your voice was soft, she wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t pressed to the door. “It's me.”

Momo visibly relaxed when she heard Y/N.

“Can I come in?”

The answer was the opening of the cabinet door.

As soon as you lowered yourself onto the floor, Momo launched herself into your arms, clutching onto you as though her life depended on it. Confused by the sudden outburst but also suspecting what could have brought it on, you just gathered her closer and gently brushed her hair with your fingers.

“How did you… ”

“Find you here? Couldn't see you in the crowd so I figured,” you shrugged.

“Can we... can we just stay here for a moment?” she sniffled, burrowing her head into your neck.

“Momo, you don’t even have to ask. I’m here for you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a long time intertwining your limbs against each other. You rubbed up and down her arms gently, taking deep breaths so she’d mirror you and relax.

When her breathing returned to a normal rate, you pulled back slightly to look at her face. Although still pale from hunger and exhaustion, she looked considerably better than she had a while ago.

“How’re you feeling?” you whispered.

“Still tired, but I’m okay now,” Momo said, her voice raspy. “Thanks for staying with me.”

You took a moment to take her in. The dim light couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes or how bloodshot they were. She had a pallid complexion, something you would’ve rushed to treat, but instead, you had this stupid meeting to run. But even then, Momo tried to put on a smile for you, as small as it was. Smiling, you pulled her in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

With a sigh, you pulled away from her. Her face was held up by your hands. “Although there hasn’t been any yelling or crashing yet, I don’t think it’s right to leave them without a host for too long.”

Momo languidly nodded her assent even when the rest of her body reacted differently. She pressed her forehead to yours until your noses were touching.

Momo deserved to rest. And you wanted that for her too. If possible, you would have stayed here like this all night long. But alas…

“I should probably head back,” you whispered. Momo only hummed. “but you can stay here longer if you—”

“No,” Momo mumbled.

“No?” you asked, not wanting to pull away first.

Momo did it for you. She exhaled a deep breath before pulling back, her eyes finally looking at you.

“No, that's fine,” Momo said, shaking her head before helping herself up. Then she extended a hand to you. “We should host together, shouldn’t we?”

“We really should,” you took her hand and pulled yourself up. “I’ve already canceled this three times, I think they’d flip out if it was only me out there,” you said with a grimace.

Holding hands, you exited the pantry together.

Thankfully, everyone was too caught up in the snacks you’d made to comment on your disappearance. Momo just ignored the few stares thrown her way. Making your way to the front of the living room, you called for everyone’s attention and began the town meeting, steadfastly holding onto Momo’s hand the entire time.

Although the townsfolk had also helped in clearing up after the meeting, there were a few things only you two could rearrange as the people living in the house. You wanted Momo to go upstairs and rest while you quickly cleaned up, but she was as stubborn as ever and refused to leave your side. Fortunately though, having two people definitely made the job go quicker, and before long, you were heading into the en-suite to draw a bath for Momo.

You turned off the hot water at the temperature you knew Momo liked most before adding a spoonful of lavender bath salts to the water, your gift to Momo from when she had returned from a mission complaining of sore muscles. She smiled gratefully at you as she slipped into the tub, leaving you to once again sit on the cold floor beside her. Not that you minded, you’d take any proximity you could get. The both of you just sat there, basking in the comfortable silence as Momo relieved her weary body.

Eventually, you spoke up, making sure to be cautious in the way you approached this topic. “Do you want to talk about what happened downstairs?”

Momo looked at you with a look, a knowing one, but she turned her eyes away quickly.

“What? About Hector?” Momo managed to laugh, it almost sounded real. “Yeah, it was funny when he stood up and demanded we vote for a stop sign near the corner store, only to realize we’ve had it all along and he needed to change his glasses prescription.”

“Momo,” you took her hand that was laying on the edge of the bathtub. “Seriously.”

She finally turned to face you with a sigh, deciding not to run away this time.

“I was doing as you said, the cutlery, that is,” Momo’s finger intertwined with yours, she trained her focus on your joint hands. “Someone was asking me questions, I don’t know who, asking about my job and where I’d been and whatnot… and then suddenly,” she paused to take a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears.

You brought your other hand to engulf hers and rubbed your thumb across the back of her hand in circular motions.

“Suddenly, out of nowhere, they said something about how I’m lucky to have you manage everything around here while I’m away,” she trailed off, a small scoff escaping her. Momo mumbled, but you caught every word. “Well, not out of nowhere, they are right. I am lucky. I’m never here.”

“Momo…”

She continued, talking through her tears, not bothering to wipe them away as they slipped down her cheeks.

“I just… you’re the one who always has to manage things around here. I just feel bad, you know?” Momo straightened, turning her whole body to face you as an odd resolve washed over her. “Like, I’m always busy flying around somewhere but you always accommodate me and my work. But I don’t do anything like that for you? Actually, what do I even do?” At that, you wanted to stop her, but she kept going. “I guess I feel incompetent? I’m just equal parts grateful for you but also, I feel guilty.”

That was a lot to take in. Momo was never one to bare her soul, so for her to say all this meant she had been bottling it up for quite some time.

“Well, I see it differently,” you leaned in as you formed the words in your mind. “You’re doing all this to provide for us and you work so hard for it. This house, everything we have, is all possible because of you. I could never be upset about that, Momo.”

“I guess,” Momo sounded unconvinced. “But like maybe I could do more local work? That way, I could stay at home with you and work?”

“As tempting as that is, I can’t ask that of you. I can’t say I don’t miss you when you’re gone. And of course, I love having you around.”

You spoke slower so the words sunk in.

“But you’re doing what you have to do,” you tried to be as vague as possible when saying the next few words. “I mean, your company sends you all over the world because you’re a hard worker, and a really good one at that. No one is going to be able to do what you do anytime soon and I’m proud of that. Of you.”

Momo didn’t say anything, she was staring at something behind your head. Her eyebrows were furrowed together; for once, you couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“But the work itself… ” she trailed off, still staring into the distance.

That confession, if that was what she was planning it to be, had you on alert. You had to be careful here. Somehow, you had to glean Momo’s feelings about her ‘actual job’ without asking outright questions about it.

“What about the work, baby?” you asked. The term of endearment felt sour on your lips. Momo didn’t look at you.

You had to bite your tongue from interrogating her. Is it monotonous? Is it stressful? Are you having second thoughts about killing? Do you want to be transferred? What’s wrong? What can I do? How can I fix it?

She didn’t speak for a long time.

Panic was beginning to sink its claws into your skin. You were a good liar, but not that good.

Fortunately for you, Momo began once again.

“The work… I mean, sure, every job has its own boring routine and mine does too. It is exciting at times and I’m good at it too, which I can’t confidently say for a lot of other things,” you wanted to interrupt her and tell her how wonderful she was, but she spoke over you. “And I don’t really want to quit right now because we’re also earning decently.“

“Enough for an early retirement in the Swiss Alps, right?” you uttered before you could even think about it.

When she had first been accepted as an agent by your organisation, Momo had excitedly jumped around your tiny one-bedroom flat. Making big talk about how the two of you would buy a cottage in the Swiss Alps and go skiing every day in the winter and strawberry picking every day in the summer.

Reminiscing about the memory bought a real smile out of her. “Exactly.”

But the smile slowly faded as she kept talking. “I just… wish I didn’t always have to keep traveling. I barely get a few days with you before I have to fly out again. And I know that’s a part of my job, it's just that this time around was too long.”

You silently agreed. What was the organisation thinking, making an agent go three weeks out in the field, one mission after the other. You don’t even recall how many cups of coffee you’d downed just to keep up with the time differences.

“Well, you’re here now,” you placed a kiss over your joined hands. “And we’re going to make the most of it. Hopefully, you get more than a few days this time.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” she repeated, although she sounded anything but.

You bit back the long sigh and nudged her instead, looking for a way to divert her attention. “I couldn’t tell you before, but your pie’s waiting for you in the fridge.”

Momo sat up at that. You jerked back to narrowly avoid being splashed by water. “Me too! Well, not a pie but I did manage to bring back a dessert called Cajetas this time. I didn’t have time to taste it but the lady selling them told me they’re a staple.”

Her eyes finally regained their usual shine at the mention of the two of you sharing desserts. It had been a longtime tradition for you to bake her favorites when she came back from a long journey, and for her to get local items you both could try together.

“Unfortunately, I’m too stuffed now,” she finally relaxed into the tub, tipping her head back. “Those finger sandwiches were delicious Y/N. What did you put in them?”

“Love,” you said dreamily, before pressing another kiss to the hand you were holding. Momo pulled away and cringed. “What, too much?” you laughed, “besides, I don’t think they were that amazing. You were just really hungry,” you said, poking her shoulder.

Momo just hummed as a comfortable silence fell over the pair of you.

Although the bathwater would’ve been cooler by now, she looked too comfortable to be asked to move.

By the time Momo finally got out of the bathtub and into the towel you were holding out for her, the water had gone completely cold.

“Ugh, my skin is all wrinkly now”, she complained.

“Hmm I don’t know, it’s giving me a good idea of what you’d look like in another thirty years.”

“And?” she twirled around. “What do you think?”

You gave her a once over. “I think… I think I’ll stay with you for more than thirty years if that’s what you’re going to look like.”

After a quick change into your respective pajamas for the night (with you having to change again due to a mock water fight you two had), you ushered Momo into bed.

“Are you not sleeping now?” she asked, when you didn’t get into bed with her.

“Just about to, don’t worry,” you replied, straightening her edge of the comforter, effectively tucking her in.” Mariko asked for an order of cupcakes for her kindergarten class next Tuesday, so I’m just going to make a note of that before I forget.”

She pouted, drawing out an arm from under the covers and pulling you down by your sleeve. Leaning down, you had no choice but to look right into her puppy-dog eyes, nearly shutting from exhaustion were it not for Momo resisting her body, fighting to stay open. “I wanted to cuddle but I’m already,” she broke off into a yawn, “falling asleep.”

You kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, I’ll be back before you know it,” you whispered.

“G’night,” she mumbled with drooping eyes.

Your demeanor changed the minute you left the bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. Throughout the evening, you’d noticed how burnt out Momo seemed, and this late-night conversation further proved that she desperately needed a rest. You grabbed your laptop and keyed in a call to your organization, late hours be damned.

“Hippolyta to HQ. Calling in regards to Agent 64.” You waited for the call to go through.

After a few minutes of having to listen to the ridiculous call tone they had put in (seriously why on earth would someone want to listen to that Piña Colada song while they waited to make a serious report), you were about to pull out your earpiece and give up when a bored robotic voice answered, “Hippolyta, your call has now been cued. State your report and wait for an agent.”

You cleared your throat before saying. “As her handler, I believe Agent 64 is in need of a short leave, allowing her time to recuperate and be mentally on track for any and all future missions.” Hopefully, that should be enough to get an agent connected to you.

After another couple minutes of listening to the godforsaken song, a voice sounded on the other end. “This is Baklava to Hippolyta. Your report has been recorded. Do you have other details you wish to share?”

“It’s exactly as I said before. I noticed a change in Agent 64’s behaviour and mental state through her last couple missions, and I believe it would do her good to take a temporary break.”

“Agent 64, huh? Let me see, I’ll pull up her file here.”

“Oho,” you heard after some shuffling on the other end of the call, “so this is the infamous Agent 64 and Hippolyta. I see. Well, I’m afraid I have to deny your inquiry and cannot grant her the break.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised that a decision had been made so quickly. “Why?”

“Clearly, her being your wife makes it a point of personal interest. We can’t really have that, so she’ll continue on her missions as usual.”

“Excuse me, but in all these years, I have never let personal feelings get in between our working relationship.” You could feel your anger rising and had to be careful not to raise your voice too much, lest Momo wake up. “In fact, as her handler, I have made sure to push her exactly as much as she needed to get her missions done. She has a ninety-eight percent success rate, only possible because we don’t let personal feelings get in our way.”

“Nah, but in this case, Agent 64 has not filed for a break herself. You doing this on her behalf shows vested interest.”

You didn’t know if it was because of the late hour, but this conversation with Baklava was going nowhere and you were starting to get frustrated. You sighed.

“What’s the matter, Hippo, going soft for your wife? Is that it?” the voice sneered.

You saw red. No one except Momo was allowed to call you that.

“Grant Agent 64 the break or else you’ll lose not only your best assassin but also one of your best handlers,” you gritted your teeth.

The line suddenly cut.

Fuck.

You didn’t really want to have to go through the whole process of reporting your inquiry again, but for Momo you would do it another hundred times.

Just then, a new voice was heard through your earpiece.

“Hippolyta, this is Shooting Guard. Your report has been transferred over to me.”

Shooting Guard… the name was familiar to you.

“Hippolyta speaking. Not sure how much of my report was transferred over but it’s in regards to Agent 64.”

“Oh yes, I know about your wife, Hippolyta. What’s the matter?”

It suddenly hit you. Of course Shooting Guard was a familiar name. He had been an agent a year above you at the training centre, a hardworking and calculative senior, but friendly once you got to know him.

“Well, I know the organisation has been working through some things right now—” you heard a scoff on the other end, “but 64 has been on individual missions for three weeks straight. She would never say this outright but I can tell the constant travel is getting to her. As… as her handler of course, not her partner,” you hurried to add, lest you were misunderstood once again.

To your surprise Shooting Guard said, “I believe that being her spouse makes you all the more attuned to how she’s doing Hippolyta. And with your spotless record so far, having a spouse as a handler doesn’t seem to be working negatively at all.”

“Does that mean you can get her leave approved?” you asked, hopeful.

“Well, that’s the difficult part. In your words, the organisation is working through things right now,” he chuckled without mirth.

“Please, just get her a psych eval or something. Anything that grants her a break,” you were coming across as pleading when you should have been firm, but Momo’s wellbeing was at stake here.

“Let me see what I can do.” You heard him hum as he clicked on various files, rearranging calendars and rescheduling appointments, no doubt, before he finally broke the silence.

“I can give her two weeks. That fine?”

“More than fine. Truly, thank you, Shooting Guard,” the stress visibly left your shoulders.

“Don’t mention it. The agents around here need a fucking break anyways.”

You logged off the call once you got the final approval that your report had been accepted. You couldn’t wait to see Momo’s joyous face when she would break the news to you tomorrow. But for now, sleep was calling.

As you made your way back upstairs, a smile spread across your face at the thought of spending the next two weeks with your wife. When you entered your bedroom, Momo was fast asleep, sprawled across the large bed, somehow taking up enough space for two people. You shook your head fondly as you turned off the lights, slipping in beside her. As if sensing your presence, she pressed herself closer to you, wanting to be together even in sleep. You looped an arm around her torso and held her tight.

Yes, you certainly were excited to spend two weeks with her. But most of all, you were glad your bed would be warm with her presence again.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: so that poll... y'all be impatient as fuck (and i be lazy as fuck bc i think i was the only one who voted for this being split JLDFKSHFK) anyways happy misamo day and have a good day/night !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs

#a game of hide and seek #mala's collection #sanccharine #indigo's archive #eternallyghosting :]#momo x reader #twice x reader #momo fluff #jype twice #twice imagines #momo imagines

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gottalovetumbler · 1 day ago

Text

𝓓𝓪𝔂 7

𝓓𝓪𝔂 8

ⁿⁱᵏᵒˡᵃⁱ/ᵖʳⁱᶜᵉ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Info: Fem!Reader, cussing, probably shit but I’m trying to get everyone introduced by day 10 so then I can start all the fun chapters so please bear with me

———👗 🛍️ ———

The next few days pass by in a blur. Lots of medicine induced sleep made it feel like a second in your life rather than 72 hours stuck in the same bed. The nurses were obviously upset with your trying to leave while not being discharged but they didn’t say much. At least not to you but you did hear some murmuring behinds closed doors between Gaz and them so maybe something was said. That’s didn’t matter much now seeing as you’re finally free to hobble your way back onto base.

You insisted you get yourself back alone after being discharged, much to the disappointment of your seven new and self identified “besties” as Soap said. They didn’t like the idea of you walking around alone and obviously injured but it was only a mile and half away so they couldn’t come up with any good reasons to stop you.

The walk back to the base was a welcome distraction, save for the stares you got of course. The hospital was practically in the bases backyard, separated by a Main Street sort of situation. Little shops lined the street with displays of different items catching your eyes as you passed.

Laughing families and cuddling couples surrounded you as you walked. It was 6pm on a Saturday so it’s not a surprising crowd. You watch a little girl with pigtails sprints into the local pet store, much to her parent’s dismay and chuckle as they chase her.

You pause your walk as you look across the street, an open sigh sits in the window of your favorite vintage clothing store. They typically close at 4 so you have no idea why they’re open now, but you aren’t going to question it.

Cool air snacks your face as you push the door open and greet the store owner. It takes a couple minutes to explain the unfortunate history behind your injuries but she eventually concedes when you tell her you just got out of the hospital and are doing a-ok.

When you ask, she lets you know that’s it’s the monthly family night where all the stores stay open so that military families can go and shop around together. Almost every store and restaurant stays open till 11pm so you’re told to go crazy and try-on as many things on as you want.

Twenty items later you finally check out, purchasing the two dresses, pants, and sweater that you liked. It’s nearing 10pm as you resume your way back home. Almost all the families with kids have already left for the night but there’s still some eating at the restaurants in the open air.

You can finally see the base past all the buildings as you stand, waiting for the signal to cross the road. It finally turns green and right as you’re about to cross and car screeches to a halt 5ft in-front of you. The glare melts off your face as you make eye contact with the driver of said car. Captain Price. And he looks pissed the fuck off.

The sounds of locks clicking and his glare tells you enough, so you climb into the back seat. He waits for you to buckle before driving off towards the base. Now that you’re in the car you also notice a man in the passenger seat, another new man. This man though, isn’t wearing a mask and looks quite nice.

‘We thought’ you wer’ dead.’

‘Why would I be dead? All I was doing was shoppin-‘

‘It’s almos’ 11 at nigh’ and you wer’ discharged at 5:30. So nearly 6 hour’ without any sign of you when the walk was less than 2 miles. Tha’s why.’

‘I was just shopping, maybe if someone tried to call me then I could have to you that Mr.Price. It’s not my fault non of your-‘

‘Ꭵ’Ꮄ ᎤᏬᎥᏖ ᏇᏂᎥᏝᏋ Ꭵ ᏇᏗᏕ ᏗᏂᏋᏗᎴ ᎥᎦ Ꭵ ᏇᏋᏒᏋ ᎩᎧᏬ ᏦᏒᏗᏕᎧᏖᏦᏗ. ᏁᎧ ᎷᏗᏖᏖᏋᏒ ᏇᏂᏗᏖ ᎩᎧᏬ ᏕᏗᎩ, ᎩᎧᏬ ᏇᎧᏁ’Ꮦ ᏇᎥᏁ.’

‘Accordin’ to Soap, she has a hard time understanding accents. Maybe-‘

‘That fucking narc! Who else did he tell about it? I was doing perfectly fucking fine when it was just Gaz and Chase that knew. Now it’s everyone’s fucking business?? What an assholse! I can’t bel-‘

‘ᎧᏦ ᏦᏒᏗᏕᎧᏖᏦᏗ, ᏂᏋ ፈᏝᏋᏗᏒᏝᎩ ᎴᎥᎴᏁ’Ꮦ ᏖᏋᏝᏝ ᏋᏉᏋᏒᎩᎧᏁᏋ ᏰᏋፈᏗᏬᏕᏋ ᏖᏂᎥᏕ ᎥᏕ ᏖᏂᏋ ᎦᎥᏒᏕᏖ Ꭵ’Ꮇ ᏂᏋᏗᏒᎥᏁᎶ ᎧᎦ ᎥᏖ.’

The glare you send him is deadly but it also says “what the fuck did you just say?”

‘Ꭵ ᏕᏗᎥᎴ, ҭᾄќἔ ᾄ в︎ʀἔᾄҭђ︎, ђ︎ἔ’ṩ ῥʀὄв︎ᾄв︎ł︎ẏ ὄᾗł︎ẏ ҭὄł︎ḋ ᾄ ғἔᾧ ῥἔὄῥł︎ἔ ṩὄ ḋὄᾗ’ҭ ᾧὄʀʀẏ ҭὄὄ м︎ὗƈђ︎. Ṃᾄẏв︎ἔ ҭʀẏ ҭὄᾗἷᾗʛ ḋὄᾧᾗ ҭђ︎ἔ ƈὗṩṩἷᾗʛ ᾧђ︎ἷł︎ἔ ẏὄὗ’ʀἔ ᾄҭ ἷҭ, м︎ᾄќἔṩ ẏὄὗ ł︎ὄὄќ ł︎ἷќἔ ᾄ ḋἔł︎ἷᾗqὗἔᾗҭ ᾧἷҭђ︎ ҭђ︎ἔ в︎ʀὗἷṩἔṩ ᾄᾗḋ ᾄł︎ł︎.’

‘Oh I fucking look like a delinquent do I? Welllll pardon me-‘

The radio goes up in volume as Price rolls his eyes. This 2 minute drive is starting to feel a hell of a lot longer.

———👗 🛍️ ———

Hope yall enjoy!

#tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x fem!reader #poly 141 #cod x reader #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai #cod price #john price x reader #kyle gaz x reader #gaz cod

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anamericangirl · 9 hours ago

Note

I found this reblogged by an artist I follow and really, really like, not just as an artist, but as a person.

She's even called my her friend before.

She also has this in her pinned post: "This is a safe place for everyone to enjoy what they want without judgement. I don't mind who enjoys my content and who does not." I kinda figured that might have been a lie because a lot of people who claim they're "tolerant" are really only tolerant to people they already agree with, but I couldn't know for sure if that was true in this case or not.

I'm honestly genuinely really upset and don't know what to do. :'( Any advice?

It’s become pretty obvious over the last few years that anyone who describes their blog as a “safe place” means that it’s a safe place for left wing minorities who all have the same opinions and don’t have to worry about the mean scary conservatives so anytime I see a message like that I pretty much immediately know it doesn’t apply to me and that the person who wrote it will not like me.

And like you’ve seen, most of the time they don’t even mean because they turn right around and post the most mean spirited judgmental things without even hearing people out and trying to make them feel bad and unwelcome. It’s incredibly hypocritical.

Now, it’s a lot harder to move past that when it’s someone you’re close to or consider a friend. Like I can deal with people calling me a Nazi all day long but when it comes from someone in my family it hurts a little bit. So I understand being caught off guard and feeling upset. It’s a really mean message.

Right now tensions are still really high. It’s only two days since the election and the Kamala voters are still dealing with the fact that they lost. They’re upset and angry and we all already know the only way they deal with their problems and emotions is by lashing out at those around them.

If it were me, I might give her some time to calm down. If she is able to move on from this I’m sure she’ll go back to her once pleasant self and you might even be able to gently approach her on the subject. People need to understand it’s not ok to talk about others like that just because you’re mad.

If this is a friendship that’s important to you then don’t give up on it. Just try to be patient, kind and understanding and be living proof that she’s wrong. On the other hand, if you don’t think she is the kind of person who will see reason and is going to live out the behavior of that post you are not obligated to subject yourself to such treatment because you don’t deserve it.

#answered #hope that was at least somewhat helpful

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sherewrytes · 2 days ago

Note

aka the sorority! alpha kappa alpha!!

I tried my best to do research on AKA the sorority since I'm not from America. I hope I do this ask justice. I also wrote it from Ony's pov to try something different

Title: Pink & Green Pride

The courtyard at Howard is buzzing with life tonight, the kind of night that makes you feel like you’re part of something bigger. The kind of night everyone on campus will talk about for days. Y/N’s AKA chapter has been organizing this event for weeks, pulling in crowds from every corner of campus. The energy is infectious, and the night’s only getting started.

I’m standing off to the side, just taking it all in. I’ve been to a few AKA events before, but tonight’s different. Y/N’s in the center of it all, and damn, she’s shining like the stars. From head to toe, she’s draped in pink and green—her pearls sparkling in the light, her smile brighter than anything else in the courtyard. She's not just part of the crowd; she commands it. Moving through the sea of people with that confidence that’s all her own, laughing, hyping everyone up—she’s in her element, and it’s beautiful to watch.

After a while, her sisters start lining up for the step/stroll portion of the night. You can feel the air shift. The crowd quiets down, every person on the edge of their seat, waiting for the magic to happen. The AKAs begin their routine, and I find myself leaning forward, eyes glued to Y/N.

The energy they bring? It’s unmatched. The synchronized beats, the rhythm, the power—they’ve got history in every stomp, every clap. It’s not just a performance; it’s a reminder of everything these women represent. And watching Y/N lead it, move in sync with her sisters, chanting with pride—yeah, it’s something I won’t forget.

She locks eyes with me for a split second, just long enough for a knowing smile to flash across her face. I grin back, my chest swelling with pride, but she’s right back into the routine, her focus sharp. The steps are flawless, every single one sharp and precise, just like her. I can hear her voice ring out, clear as day, in the chants that echo across the courtyard. And in that moment, I realize how much this means to her—the sisterhood, the tradition, the strength of the women before her.

When they finally finish, the applause is deafening. I’m clapping the loudest, my grin so wide it feels like my face might crack. Y/N and her sisters catch their breath, giving each other hugs and high-fives. She makes her way over to me, cheeks flushed, still out of breath, but her smile is the kind that you don’t need to say anything to understand. It's everything.

“Enjoy the show?” she asks, catching her breath.

“Girl, you already know I did,” I say, pulling her close. “You were incredible out there. That wasn’t just a show—that was... powerful. You, your sisters, everything—it’s something else. I get it now. I really do.”

Her face lights up as she laughs, and damn, I could get lost in that sound. “It’s everything to me, Ony. This, my sisters, our traditions—this is my family. And knowing you’re here, supporting me? It means the world.”

I can’t help but smile, reaching into my jacket pocket and pulling out a bouquet of pink tea roses. "Thought I'd show my support in style. These should match the vibe tonight, huh?”

She gasps, eyes lighting up, and the way her fingers wrap around the stems makes me feel all warm inside. "You didn’t! Ony, you went all out for me, huh?”

“For you? I’ll go all out every time, baby,” I say, watching her hold the flowers to her chest like they’re the most precious thing. “And seeing you out there, all that pride in what you do... makes me proud just watching you, Y/N. For real.”

She takes a deep breath, her heart racing at my words. She pulls me into a hug, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world is just us. She holds me tight, and I can feel the energy between us shift. This is more than just a boyfriend cheering on his girl—this is pride. Her pride, and mine in her.

"You know," she starts, voice soft, "if my sisters knew you were over here playing Mr. Supportive, they’d probably be all over you. Askin’ for tips on how to find a man like you."

I laugh, tipping her face up so I can look into her eyes. "Tell them I’m taken. Lucky for you, huh?"

She laughs, and the sound hits me like a shot of warmth. "Lucky for me, for sure." She leans up to kiss my cheek, soft and sweet, before pulling back. She still has my hand in hers, and we start walking back toward her apartment, the crowd beginning to thin out behind us.

The night’s winding down, but I can tell she’s still buzzing from the performance, the energy of her sisters, the pride of seeing everything come together. When we get back to her place, she kicks off her heels and gets comfortable, slipping on an oversized AKA sweatshirt. Her pearls are still around her neck, and I can’t help but smile at the sight. She catches my eye, noticing the grin tugging at my lips.

“Still wearing your colors, huh?” I tease, pulling her into my arms as we settle on the couch.

“Always,” she replies, curling up against me. "Just like you. Always out here hyping me up like my personal cheerleader.”

I chuckle, running my fingers along her arm. “You’re my girl. Hype’s what I do. You give me so much to be proud of, Y/N. Seeing you and your sisters out there tonight, y’all looked like you could take on the world.”

She smiles, resting her head on my shoulder. “Feels like I already am… with you by my side.”

The soft hum of the city outside their window is a distant background as I hold Y/N close. The night’s been long, and we’re finally back in her apartment. The only thing left is this peaceful silence between us, a comforting space where the world slows down, and it’s just the two of us. I tighten my hold on her as she snuggles deeper into my side, feeling her warmth against me. The scent of the roses I gave her still lingers, and I can’t help but smile at how much they seem to suit her—like everything about her does.

She speaks up, her voice soft, almost like she’s mulling over her thoughts. “Sometimes, I forget how powerful this whole AKA thing is. I get so caught up in the day-to-day of it all—the meetings, the events, the pressure—and I forget what it all stands for.”

I move a little, brushing her hair back gently, my fingers tracing the curve of her cheek as I speak, my voice steady. "Yeah? But you always remind me. Every time I see you in those colors, leading your sisters, being so damn confident... I know it means more than you can even say. I can see how proud you are, how much it’s a part of you."

Y/N smiles, and I swear, it’s like the world’s brighter just from seeing that. She leans into me, resting her head against my chest, and I feel her relax against me, her breathing slowing as my words sink in. I’m not just talking about her sorority—I'm talking about her. The woman she’s become. The woman I get to love.

“I’m lucky to have this,” she says softly, her fingers playing with the edges of her pearls. "Not just AKA, but this—" She gestures between us, her eyes soft as she looks at me. "You. The way you’re always there, supporting me even when I know I’m probably drowning in work. You’re the best part of all of it."

Her words hit me like a wave, and I can’t stop myself from pulling her even closer, brushing my lips over her forehead. "I can’t help it, Y/N. You deserve to be supported. You deserve all the good things. And I’m here for it."

She lets out a sigh, and I feel her body settle even deeper into mine. "You really know how to make me feel like I’m on top of the world."

"You are on top of the world," I murmur against her hair. "And I’m just lucky to be in your orbit."

Her laugh is soft, but it’s full of affection. "You're something else, Ony."

We stay like that for a few moments, basking in the quiet, the warmth of each other’s presence filling the space between us. But eventually, she stirs, and I feel her pull away slightly as she stretches her arms above her head.

"I should probably get some rest. Got a ton of homework to finish before class tomorrow." Then she shoots me a playful grin. "But first... I’m about to treat you to a little late-night snack."

I chuckle, following her into the kitchen. "Now, you know I’m never turning down food, especially if it’s you offering it."

She moves around the kitchen with that same confidence that always leaves me in awe. Watching her in action, seeing how she balances being a powerhouse in AKA and a beast in the classroom—it’s like seeing the perfect storm. She’s strong, capable, smart. Everything about her pulls me in, every damn time.

Turning back to me, she catches my eye with a grin. "How’s it feel, huh? To see me in action? Whether it’s in the classroom, at an event, or cooking you up something to eat—I’m always in control."

I walk over, wrapping my arms around her from behind. "You’ve got all the control in the world, baby. I’m just happy to be along for the ride."

She leans into me, and we just stand there for a while, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat syncing with mine. After a few more minutes, she finishes preparing the snack and plops down on the couch, patting the seat beside her.

"Alright," she says, that mischievous smile never leaving her face. "Let’s eat. Tomorrow's gonna come quick, and I’m gonna need all the energy I can get to juggle classes, AKA, and... well, you."

I sit next to her, taking the food she made and stealing a bite as we talk, laughing at the little things and sharing bits of our lives. As she gets into talking about her chemistry project and how her sisters are planning their new charity initiative, I can’t help but admire her. She’s got so much going on, so much she’s balancing, but she does it all with this fire I can’t stop watching.

She’s unstoppable, and I get to be here, right beside her, cheering her on.

"You ever stop talkin’ about chemistry for two seconds?" I tease, nudging her playfully. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to be all into science."

She grins and rolls her eyes. "Not when it’s this interesting. Besides, you know you love hearing me talk about it."

"Yeah, I guess I do," I reply, my voice softening. I rest my hand on her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You got me. You always do."

She laughs again, the sound light and easy. "You really do talk like you’re mine, huh?"

I chuckle, leaning in close to her. "If I’m not, then I sure as hell want to be."

The way she looks at me in that moment, something shifts. It’s more than just teasing now—it’s like there’s this deeper understanding between us. She doesn’t say a word, but I see it in her eyes, and before I know it, she’s leaning in, her lips meeting mine.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, like we’re savoring the intimacy. But soon, it deepens, and all I can feel is the pull of her—the way our hearts sync up, the way she makes me feel like I can conquer anything as long as she’s by my side. When we finally pull away, our foreheads rest together, and I whisper the words that feel truer than anything I’ve ever said before.

"I’m here, always."

She smiles, and it hits me like a wave. "I know, Ony. And I’m right here with you."

As we sit there, tangled together in the quiet of her apartment, the world outside feels miles away. I know one thing for sure—this is it. She’s everything, and I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.

#black tumblr #black reader #aot x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #ony aot #ony fluff #onyankapon #onyankopon x black y/n #ony x black reader #ony x y/n

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uceyliyahh · 3 days ago

Text

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3708

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @xbriexx

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @lov3rla03 @simpin4pixels @nbanenefrmdao

OMNISCIENT

Yasmine had an interview with Bryson regarding her impending debut on the blue brand, so she was at work today for tonight's Smackdown. Following that incident, she and Jey have been growing closer over the past few weeks.

Taking her on these "best friend" dates, Jey has been nothing but kind to her. Late at night, they would stroll and discuss personal matters. Naturally, Montez was aware of it, and since Jey was his dawg, he trusted him. He was aware that Jey would not harm her in any way.

She felt someone put their arms around her shoulders as she sat in the makeup chair applying makeup. She opened her eyes to see Bianca standing behind her.

"Hey, girlfriend! I've missed you, girl. Paul needs to hurry up and make your debut quickly," Bianca said jokingly.

"I know, man, but I'm so nervous about it, too. What if I mess up, B?" Yasmine replied.

Bianca shook her head, "Girl, you're going to do great out there when you debut." That made Yasmine smile, knowing that she had perfect, supportive friends who always reassured her.

"But enough of that. How are you and Jey?" Once she bought up Jey, Yasmine couldn't help but smile whenever she heard his name from anyone else; it just made her heart flutter.

While they were talking on Jey, Bianca could see that Yasmine was cheesing really hard and getting really geeked out. She updated Bianca, stating that Jey has been taking her on "best friend" dates and late-night walks as part of their overall effort to get to know one another better.

"Oh my gosh, girl yall are so cute like literally." She said.

Yes, there is something specific about him. Yasmine looked at herself in the mirror that the makeup artist had given her and said, "He's different, B, but I can't be sure yet." "Yasmine, I know what you mean, but I also told everyone that I was hosting a small gathering at the crib so that we could all enjoy ourselves after work." A gathering? It sounds fine to me. I hope Jey will be present as well. Why wouldn't he?

Bianca hugged her before heading to her locker room, and Yasmine nodded her head. As she made her way to Montez's locker room, she thanked the makeup artist for doing her makeup.

She felt a powerful force tugging at her arm as she was doing that. She turned to see Carmelo snatching her up in this manner. She gave him a severe look as she stood there with her arms folded after yanking her arm away from him.

"Why the fuck am I hearing about you and Jey being all close and shit now when I should be the one staring at you like that?" Carmelo asked her a question. "Because we are, right? Why am I unable to have a male best friend at this time? "Yasmine said."

"All of that is not what I'm saying. I simply want to know what's happening between you two. Bro, this nigga is right here. Why is he asking her questions? They weren't even together once more? As if she were free to do as she pleased. Feeling angry at this man for failing to notice that they were no longer together, Yasmine started massaging her temple.

What Jey and I are doing is none of your business, Melo. "Hell," she said sharply, "we're not even together."

Her response didn't sit well with him, so he took her by the throat, drew her in, and put his lips to her ear. "I'm not sure why you're acting this way toward me, but if it's because of his ass, Minks, I won't think twice about beating his ass." She was slightly alarmed by his threats to harm Jey, but she was aware that Jey could easily beat him up. She rubbed her throat and pushed him away. When he didn't like something that he didn't want to hear, he would grab her up like that, and she got so sick of it.

"Nigga, please stop interfering with my life; you're fucking crazy." His facial expressions were readable by her. Her response made him angry because he felt like he was losing control of her. "It would be best for all of you to break up this friendship." Yasmine cocked her head threateningly.

"The fuck, I'm not doing that? He is unquestionably superior to you. He grabbed her by the hair after she had said that, which made her scream at the pain she was feeling.

She looked into his eyes and raised her head. She wasn't going to break up with Jey because he's been giving her the mental support she needed, which Carmelo was unable to give her, even though this man was being completely serious. She felt her hair behind come loose before he could do anything else, looked up, and saw Jonathan choking him. Yasmine couldn't understand. Where the fuck did he come from?

"Yasmine, are you okay?" "What?" Jonathan inquired.

As she watched Carmelo struggle to escape Jon's chokehold, she nodded her head and said, "Yo' ass want to keep putting hands on her, don't you, Melo? When will you discover that she is protected? She followed Jon's instructions to go to Montez's locker room while he handled Carmelo's ass, and she had planned to do so until this incident. As Yasmine entered his locker room, she noticed Trinity and Bianca seated there, staring at her. In order to check on her and give her a hug, they both approached her.

"Girl, you good?" Trinity asked.

"Yes, I'm alright. I guess Melo learned that Jey and I were best friends and wanted me to cut him off, so I had to deal with him once more." Trinity and Bianca both let out deep sighs as Yasmine explained. "Yasmine, have you been talking to Trick? I'm so sick of his ass." As soon as he believed his own best friend over her and blocked him on everything, Yasmine shook her head, refusing to even consider his ass.

In the locker room, Bianca nodded her head as everyone sat down to watch an Iyo vs. Bayley match on the TV. Yasmine, meanwhile, could feel her phone buzzing. Upon taking it out, she discovered that Jey had sent her a text.

Joshua🤍 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE��💬 Joshua🤍: hey, I heard what happened you good minks? Joshua🤍: lemme' know okay?

She awe at the messages knowing that Jey cared for her so much she began to text him back.

Yasmine🩵: I'm fine Joshua your brother came in the nick of time before anything could happen. Joshua🤍: that's good minks, where yo' pretty ass at? Yasmine🩵: I'm in my brother's locker room with the girls watching a match between Iyo and Bayley why? Joshua🤍: come holla at me for a second Yasmine🩵: 🤨🤨 boy what'chu tryna do? Joshua🤍: girl bring yo' ass here and stop playing with me Yasmine🩵: you can wait bestie 💁🏼‍♀️ Joshua🤍: bring. yo'. ass. here. now. do I have to repeat myself? Yasmine🩵: 🙄 god you're so annoying worse than Montez ass I'm coming. Joshua🤍: good Yasmine🩵: 🖕🏼🖕🏼

Yasmine promised the girls that she would return, but she quickly informed them that she was going to the restroom. As she walked out of the room, they both nodded. She and Jey have been touchy lately; did she forget to mention that to you? Most likely, it didn't matter. She made her way to Jey's locker room, which he shared with his brother. Standing there like a young child heading over to their friend's house, Yasmine knocked on the door and waited for Jey to come open it.

The door flew open as she heard footsteps approaching. Jey was standing there with his silver chain, grills, and piercings on, all part of his Yeet Gear. He always manages to look good. He gave her a smile while displaying his golden grills, which gleamed in the natural light. After grabbing her by the thighs, he closed the door after them.

As she straddled his lap, her hands held her in place while touching every part of his face and feeling every hair on his beard.

Jey put his powerful arms around her waist and squeezed her ass while rubbing his hands on both of her cheeks.

"Is this what'chu wanted me to come in for?" She said, running her fingers through his mullet.

While she was whining, he made her up by kissing her neck, sending chills down her spine.

"You know I miss yo' fine ass mama." Jey said, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"I missed you too, bestie. Do you have a match tonight?" He shook his head, rubbing all over her warm body, which made her feel wet inside of her panties.

"Joshhhh..."

With that damn smug look on his face as he did what he was doing to her, he arched an eyebrow at her. "What? Girl, I'm not doing anything. Yasmine rolled her eyes and smacked her teeth as she looked down at him.

"Josh, you're being touchy." Gently, she said, and he sat up, taking her chin and bringing her face to his. "Lemme' do that you know you like it." Without hesitation, Yasmine put her lips to his, and he did the same.

Yes, ever since they started hanging out, she and Jey have been touchy, but not to the extent that it made Yasmine feel uneasy. Perhaps Jonathan is the only person close to them who is aware of the small things they do that best friends don't really do. As they made out passionately in his and Jon's locker room, Jey stuck his tongue in her mouth and rubbed all over her ass. Although he was aware that he needed to maintain his composure around Yasmine, he felt himself becoming hard.

As their foreheads touched, she sensed it too and withdrew from the kiss.

"Shit, you me getting all bricked up girl." He said.

"Well, that's what happens when we are doing things like this together, Josh." He chuckled, telling her to sit up real quick so he could fix himself.

His print was visible through his gear, indicating to her that he was large and most likely incapable of enduring all of that if they went far. He noticed her grinning as she gazed at his print.

"You wanna suck it since you keep staring mad hard at it." Yasmine punched him in his chest as her face felt flushed at his bold statement.

"Shut up Joshua like deadass." Yasmine said while straddling back on his lap.

"Don't you need to get back to girls before they start to worry?" As she got up from his lap and fixed herself, she nearly forgot about that, but she missed the hickey he had given her earlier. It wasn't bad, but from a distance it was obvious, so she thought she would cover it up with makeup to hide it from the girls, but Jey stopped her.

"Let people see; don't cover it up." She put her makeup brush back in her bag, and Jey placed a soft kiss on her neck and then on her lips.

But the kiss once again got intense as Yasmine wrapped her arms around his neck while his hands were resting on her ass cheeks. He was yearning more from her as she did the same, but they both knew their limits. Yasmine marked him up just like how he did her, hearing him moaning softly in her ear, causing him to scoop her up by her thighs. Once again, it's like he lost control of his senses.

Unhooking her bra as his breast popped out, he grabbed it in the process, swirling his tongue around her nipple. She threw her head back while moaning his name.

"J-Josh...fuck..." he gazed up at her watching her fold at his touch.

"I can stop...we don't have to continue this...lemme' know mama.." He said softly, reassuring her.

"Let's stop for now before we get caught..." he nodded in agreement as Yasmine got up from his lap fixing herself as he did the same.

Before she could leave, she gave him one last kiss before heading out the door and returning to Montez's locker room. Opening the door, she saw Bianca and Trinity staring at her.

"Damn, girl what took you so long?" Bianca asked.

"My tummy started to hurt and it took me longer than expected." Yasmine lied as she sat down on the couch.

Trinity noticed a mark on her neck. She smirked, shaking her head, and then she knew that Yasmine had been with Jey all that time.

✧˚° After work, Yasmine was upstairs in her room watching her favorite show on Netflix, Bridgerton. She stopped watching it at first because of the sex scenes but went right back to it after hearing that they had a new season out, so she had to catch up on everything.

While she was doing that, she heard her knocking and Bianca coming into her room.

"What's up B?" Yasmine asked.

"Everyone is here and wants to see you, girl. C'mon, " she said as Yasmine nodded her head while getting up from her bed.

In order to have some privacy and change her clothes, Bianca closed the door. During that time, Yasmine dressed comfortably and styled her hair before heading downstairs to greet everyone. She went downstairs, hoping to see someone she knew, but she didn't see them. She sighed, knowing that since his brother and sister-in-law were present, he would most likely arrive on his own schedule.

She approached them, grinning and giving them both hugs. "Jon, is my best friend coming?" Jonathan rolled his eyes amusingly and nodded his head.

"Yes, but he's coming a little later, so be patient. He's not going anywhere, girl." Jonathan said as Yasmine hit him in the chest Him being dramatic, started to winch in pain; meanwhile, Trinity popped him upside the head.

Yasmine laughed, covering her mouth in the process before Trinity pulled her to the side, leaving Jon in actual pain.

"Girl, what's going on between you and Jey?" Trinity asked Yasmine. Knowing that she couldn't hide this from her best friend, she decided to tell her everything.

Trinity covered her mouth shockingly as she hit Yasmine in her arm, hearing all of the tea that she was spilling on her. "Girl! Shut the fuck up, are you serious right now?" Yasmine nodded her head while feeling her face getting flushed.

"I'm not lying. It's been like that for a few weeks now. We don't really go too far with it, but honestly, I'm yearning for more. Trin, is that bad?" Yasmine said, fiddling with her fingers, as Trinity shook her head.

"Nah, girl, it's not bad, but I also want you to take it slow and need to heal, even if it's with Jey and he's helping you. I just don't want you to get hurt; that's all that matters to me."

"Yeah, of course, I know my limit, and so does he." She nodded her head as she and Yasmine went back with everyone else out back while Montez was cooking some BBQ.

Meanwhile, Yasmine was sitting near the pool on her phone, scrolling through her social media, and saw that Carmelo had posted about his story.

When she saw it; it was him and trick out to the club together along with lash having a good time she shrugged her shoulders moving past his story while watching someone else's story.

As she was doing that, she heard the door opening. She didn't pay attention at first since she was on her phone, but she heard a familiar voice coming from the kitchen.

Yasmine turned around and saw Jey dabbing up his brother and Montez before glancing in her direction and grinning while flaunting his grills. Raising herself, she approached him and put her arms around his neck. Everyone, including her brother, watched them as he grabbed her by the thighs.

"Oh my gosh, I thought you weren't going to come." Yasmine said.

"I mean I am a foodie so when I heard yo' brother was making some bbq I had to come." Jey replied as he put Yasmine down on her feet.

"Man, you're here for the food and not to see me rude." She pouted at him while walking away, and he chuckled at her for following her to everyone else out back.

Not even looking at Jey, she sat down by the pool and resumed using her phone. While preparing the food, Montez was conversing with Jey. Wondering what was going on between them, he brought up what he had seen earlier.

"So what's up with'chu and my little sister Josh?" Montez asked Jey, scratching the back of his head.

"Nothing, we are just chilling and vibing together. That's all nothing more." Montez gave him that face knowing that he was lying his ass off, causing Jey to sigh deeply.

"Don't kill Me A'ight? But we've been fucking around for like a couple of weeks but I do respect her wishes." Jey said, throwing his hands up in defense.

The sight of his homeboy raising his hands as if to strike him made Montez laugh at him. "Slow down, Dawg. You won't be killed by me. Regardless, I think you two look good together, and as I've previously stated, I have faith in you around my sister." With a sigh of relief, Jey rubbed his hand over his beard. When he noticed Yasmine sitting by herself in the pool using her phone, his gaze quickly went to her. After removing his shirt, he approached her and dove into the pool. He was swimming in the pool when she looked up, the water splashing in her face.

'This nigga did that shit on purpose oh my gosh so annoying bro.'

"Josh! You fucking dickhead!" Yasmine shouted as she wiped her phone, which had water on the screen, before swimming towards him.

He went under the water as she swam in his direction, making it impossible for her to find him. She looked around like a lost puppy until she felt him grab her by the thighs, frightening her. Giving her a Samoan drop in the water, he placed her on his back. Everyone laughed and gasped. Yasmine, meanwhile, flipped her hair back out of her face and swam back up to the top, rubbing her eyes.

Jey encircled her waist with his arms and pressed his face against her shoulder. She gave him an eye roll.

"C'mon mama you can't be mad at me still look at me." He whispered softly.

She turned her head, realizing their faces were close together, pouting at him. "I am still mad at you nigga; leave me alone." Yasmine tried to get away from his grasp but forgetting the fact that he was stronger than her.

"What can I do to make it up to you? Ion' know why yo' little ass catching attitude with me when I did want to come and see you, but a man's gotta eat girl."

She stuck her tongue out at him, facing the opposite direction, grabbing her chin so that she could face him as they made intense contact.

"Fix it."

"Nigga fix what?" Yasmine questioned him as a smirk appeared on his face.

"Fix that damn attitude, or imma fuck it out of you upstairs in yo' bedroom bent the fuck over on that bed, little girl." She fixed her attitude quickly once he said all of that as he turned her body around, now facing him, keeping their bodies close to each other.

Jey pecked her on the lips, making sure nobody saw them do that. Then, they heard Montez calling everyone to come get their plates as the food was done.

✧˚°

After everyone had finished their meal, they spent the remainder of the evening in the living room watching a movie. On the couch, Jey and Yasmine were snuggling together. His hand was over her waist, her head resting on his chest as she straddled his lap. As he watched her drift in and out of sleep, he told Montez that he was going to take Yasmine upstairs to bed because he could see she was nodding off.

Taking her by the legs, he led her upstairs to her bedroom, opened the door with his free hand, and carried her to her bed. He set her down, moved her hair to the side, sat beside her, and gently covered her body with her blanket. Jey smiled as he observed her sleeping soundly and appreciated her features. He wanted to continue keeping her mentally and physically sane because he knew he was doing a good job of it. He wished for her happiness.

He got up from the bed double, checking to make sure that she was actually sleeping before heading downstairs with everyone else.

As he went back downstairs, he noticed that everyone was knocked out of sleep. He laughed quietly, heading back upstairs towards Yasmine's bedroom.

Opening the door, he could tell that Yasmine had shifted in her sleep from sleeping on her side to her stomach. He quietly took off his shorts before climbing into the bed with her.

Pulling her closer to his body, he heard her groan, sounding annoyed, but he didn't care as he placed a kiss on her forehead before drifting to sleep.

Something Bout' Us.

uceyjucey, tiffanywwe, biancabelairwwe, others liked your post.

minnieminks: he knows I'm his favorite 😩 uceyjucey: damn right minks 🤍 minnieminks: @ uceyjucey my favorite person like ever 🫶🏽 tiffanywwe: girl you're eating that up fr fr ♥️ biancabelairwwe: gurl is there something that ion' know about? minnieminks: @ biancabelairwwe ummm idkkk ask yo' fiancé 😭😭 im playing ill tell you later. MontezFordWWE: yk what...im not going to say anything 😭😭 jonathanfatu: that bathing suit is to much Yasmine minnieminks: @ jonathanfatu dont make me get Trinity leave me alone Jon 😭😭🙄 carmelohayes: @ uceyjucey tf you mean by that? Yasmine what does he mean by that? Are you cheating on me with him? uceyjucey: @ carmelohayes you should know what tf she meant gtfo 🙄

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A/n: Lawd Yasmine and Jey are yearning more for each other right now but again Jey is respecting her but how long can they keep this up before he tear her shit up? 😭😭

Carmelo...ion have anything to say. 🙄

Anyways I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

#jey uso #black writers #black fanfic writer #black oc #jey x oc black #wwelove #black reader #jey uso fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #jey uso smut

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