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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 1 month ago

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The Boss -(long) Oneshot

Word count: 9284 This one got away from me... sorry. Hope you like it, tho!

Part 2 Part 3

Y/N smiled as she stared up at the huge high rise building. It was her first day working at Avengers Legal, the offices of Barnes, Rogers and Stark. She had been really lucky to find an opening as one of the head lawyers’ personal assistants, she just didn’t know which one yet. She had a little background in law, but didn’t go to law school, as much as that killed her parents. A little bump in the road in the shape of her now ex boyfriend had derailed that future, and after freeing herself she was now working on her fresh start. She followed the instructions from the head of HR that she had been in contact with, and walked out of the elevator to the smiley woman sitting at the reception desk.

“Hello, how can I help you?” she asked in a chipper tone.

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. It’s my first day?” Y/N said.

“Oh! The new personal assistant! Yes, Pepper told me,” she said happily. She stood and held out her hand. “My name is Kamala Khan. Receptionist.”

“Kamala, that’s beautiful,” Y/N complimented her, and Kamala smiled even wider.

“You’re sweet. I like you already,” Kamala said. “Follow me.” She moved around the desk and walked ahead of Y/N towards the hallway to the right. “Now I don’t know which partner you’re working with,” she said lowly, sidling up to Y/N. “And please don’t let this scare you off, but each of them work differently.”

“Okay,” Y/N said, speaking quietly as well.

“If you get Steve, that’s the Rogers part, he’s a sweetie. Super friendly. If you get Tony, the Stark part, he’ll tease and make fun of you, he’s very sarcastic, and sometimes he’ll flirt or compliment you like crazy, but it’s never gross and he means nothing by it. He’s married to Pepper.” Y/N nodded, intaking all the information as best as she could. “Then there’s James, the Barnes part. He’s the more serious of the three. Friendly, but busy, very professional and no-nonsense. He likes things done quickly and efficiently. If he lets you call him his nickname, Bucky, then you know you’re in the inner circle.”

“Inner circle?” Y/N asked as Kamala stopped in front of a door that read Pepper’s name and title.

“It’s like the main team of Avengers Legal,” Kamala said, nearly whispering. “The partners, their top legal assistants that get to have the most fun or high profile cases, and only the best personal assistants. Those are the ones that get to travel with them, and usually get to network with top of the line people in the industry. It opens a lot of doors,” she said, raising her hand to the door. “So good luck with whoever you get.”

Y/N nodded as Kamala finally knocked. “Come in!” a voice called out. Kamala opened the door and gestured for Y/N to enter first. “Y/N! Welcome,” Pepper said and stood from her desk.

“Hello, it’s good to see you again,” Y/N said, walking over and shaking her hand.

“Thank you, Kamala,” Pepper called out behind her, and Kamala smiled and closed the door. “I’m sure she gave you all the beginner’s gossip,” Pepper smirked as she sat back down and gestured for Y/N to sit at the chair in front of the desk.

“Yes, she did,” Y/N huffed a laugh.

Pepper rolled her eyes. “The partners are all just overworked, typical men. Not nearly as special as they like to think they are.” Y/N bit back a smile. “That being said, after reviewing your profile and discussing things with them, I think you’ll be best fit with Mr. Barnes.” Y/N felt a little trepidation at that from what Kamala had said, but nodded. “He’s…quiet,” Pepper said, choosing her words carefully. “But honestly one of the best attorneys in the state. He runs a tight ship, and expects the best out of anyone working under him. If they disappoint him, he can have quite a temper, but he’s normally very friendly.”

“Are you trying to convince me to back out?” Y/N asked with a smile.

“No! God no, please stay,” Pepper said, waving her hands in front of her. “I’m just trying to forewarn you. He’s had a hard time keeping a personal assistant for the last few years.”

Y/N nodded. “And he is aware that I’m not a paralegal?”

“Yes,” Pepper nodded back. “We don’t blur lines when it comes to personal assistants versus legal assistants.”

“Then I’m ready,” Y/N said.

She signed the contract for her employment, then Pepper gave her a tour of the office and had her meet the teams and other partners. Finally they walked into the office that had his name on it. “Buck? I’d like to introduce you to your new personal assistant,” Pepper said as she held the door open for Y/N. Y/N walked in and took a quick look around at his office before her eyes landed on him sitting in the desk chair. She had to stop her eyes from widening when she met his gaze. That is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

“Meet Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is Bucky. Oh!” Pepper rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, James.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Pepper but gave her a teasing smirk. “Thanks Pepper,” he said in a dismissive tone.

Pepper scoffed then squeezed Y/N’s upper arm. “Come see me before you leave today.”

Y/N smiled and nodded at her and Pepper walked out, closing the door behind her. Y/N took that short moment to look him over. Tall, broad shouldered, and from what she could see, built under his suit that was impeccably tailored to him. His dark brown hair was long and tied back in a small man-bun, which was surprising as a lawyer, but that coupled with his full beard offset the austerity of his suit and made him seem approachable. His bright blue eyes were looking her over, too, like he was sizing her up. It was an intense stare, and she had to stop herself from shrinking under his gaze.

She took the initiative and walked forward to his desk. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes,” she said, offering her hand to him.

Bucky looked at her hand then back to her face, his hand reaching forward as he smiled politely. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand firmly. Y/N made sure to be firm in her grip with him, and his smile slightly widened. “Take a seat, and we can go over what it is I expect from you.”

Y/N sat and took out a notebook and pen from her bag, getting comfortable in her seat then looking up at him expectantly. Bucky seemed to be watching her carefully, and she could start to see a small tell in the type of smirk he gave as to how he was feeling. The wider smirk he gave Pepper was a friendly one, whereas these small ones as he greeted her were when he was impressed with something or pleasantly surprised. They had a good, long discussion about what it was he wanted, how he liked to work with others, his normal routine and the possibility of travel at times, but she wouldn’t hold her breath for that.

“That’s about everything I can think of,” Bucky said. “Any questions?”

“Yes, what’s your favorite drink order?” Y/N asked as she finished jotting down her last notes.

Bucky scoffed. “My favorite drink order?”

Y/N smiled. “Just in case.”

His impressed smirk came back. “Lately it’s been sweetened matcha.”

“Sweetened with what?” Y/N asked.

“Surprise me,” Bucky said.

Y/N smiled widely. “Yes sir.”

Bucky frowned. “No sirs. Mr. Barnes in front of clients, otherwise Bucky is fine.”

She beamed at him for accepting her so quickly. “Alright…Bucky.”

***

This job was a baptism by fire. Y/N was thrown into work life with Bucky, accompanying him all around the city, taking endless notes in meetings and relaying messages to his legal team. Per Bucky’s request she became close with all the assistants on his legal team, learning the process of working on a case and seeing how they all worked together. She also scheduled everything in his personal life, making sure he was getting to doctor's appointments, picking up the dry cleaning, making sure the house cleaner was on time, taking personal phone calls during the work day, and handling anything else she could anticipate for him.

Kamala was right, he was very particular and wanted efficiency above all else. He didn’t like people wasting his time, and expected everyone to be at their best while at work. There were times Y/N would catch him having a casual moment with one of the other partners, Steve, who was his best friend from childhood. He would laugh at something Steve said and she’d be gifted with the sight of his full, real smile that he rarely gave anyone. That being said, as the months went by he was opening up to Y/N, teasing her, making jokes and even at times bordering on flirtatious.

Steve was still looking for a new personal assistant, since his previous one, Peggy, he just so happened to start dating seriously, and since they struggled to differentiate work versus their personal lives she had resigned. Every once in a while Bucky would lend Y/N out to Steve to help with some things that he needed while Pepper was in the process of finding him a new assistant. “Good morning, Steve,” Y/N greeted him one day while she was helping him for a week. She daintily put down a large coffee cup in front of him and his eyes widened.

“Oh you angel,” he whispered, grabbing the warm cup. He brought it to his lips, taking a slow sip and he hummed appreciatively. “You’re heaven sent, you know that?”

“I know,” Y/N smirked.

“Oh I see how it is,” Bucky’s voice came from behind her. She turned to find him walking toward her into Steve’s office with a teasing smile. “One week with this jerk and you forget all about me.”

“Punk,” Steve spat as he sipped his coffee.

Y/N rolled her eyes and held up the other cup in her hand. “How could I forget your cafe style sweetened matcha with three pumps of lavender and oat milk?” Bucky hung his head and huffed a laugh as he took the cup from her. “You just came here before I had a chance to come to you. So needy,” Y/N teased him. She took out her work phone provided by the firm and started scrolling. “By the way, your date from last week keeps texting and calling. What excuse do you want me to give dearest Dottie?”

Bucky groaned and Steve laughed loudly. “What was wrong with this one, Buck?” Steve snorted.

Bucky glanced at Y/N like he wasn’t sure how to talk about it in front of her. “Well, judging by these texts, she’s very thirsty,” Y/N said in a deadpanned tone, making Steve almost spit out his coffee. “Like, all of the time,” Y/N said. “Shall I?” she smiled wickedly, waving the phone in front of Bucky’s face.

His eyes widened and he slammed the drink down before lunging toward her to grab the phone but she sidestepped him and ran behind Steve’s desk. “Read it! Read it!” Steve said, standing from his chair to block Bucky from getting to Y/N.

“Don’t you dare!” Bucky growled as he tried to go through Steve.

“‘Let me know when I can see you again, baby. We can pick up where we left off,’” Y/N read, her voice taking on an exaggerated Bronx, New York accent like what she’d heard from Dottie’s voicemails.

“Oooh where did you leave off, Buck?” Steve asked.

Bucky tried to push past him. “No where,” he grunted.

“These get worse by the day,” Y/N frowned as she read through them. She had mostly ignored them every time she saw Dottie’s name pop up, not engaging in her constant ramblings in trying to get his attention. This was why he gave out the work cell phone number rather than his actual, personal one. “‘I want your tongue so deep inside me I can taste it,’” she read in the accent again, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised high. “Good Lord.”

Bucky finally got past Steve and ran after Y/N as she squeaked and ran out of Steve’s office, Steve’s laugh echoing down the hallway as she moved as fast as her heels would allow her. She ducked into an empty conference room and ran around the table, Bucky on the other side. “‘I feel like a vampire, I wanna suck everything out of you,’” Y/N read, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Jesus, Bucky, where do you find these girls?” He edged around the table toward her and she jerked to the side, making him frown deeper at her. He suddenly jumped and slid over the table, making Y/N screech as she tried to run but he caught her with his arms around her waist, hoisting her up off her feet. She kept the phone out of his reach as he tried to maneuver her to take it from her. “Ooh this one is really naughty,” she giggled. Bucky pushed her into the corner of the room, making her face him as he grabbed at her hands. He finally caught her wrists and as he held them together she read: “‘Fuck me like an animal. I wanna be your little cum slut,’” she finished, laughing at the end of the phrase and losing the accent.

Bucky pried the phone out of her fingers. Y/N’s laugh died on her lips as she looked up at him and saw the look on his face. He wasn’t frowning or smiling, but looked surprised and…aroused. Y/N realized the position they were in. She was pushed in the corner, his leg between her legs with his knee almost cradling her core, the rest of his torso pushing against her front to keep her there, his hand holding both of her wrists against his chest and his face hovering mere inches from her face. His eyes flicked back and forth between her eyes, then glanced at her lips.

Y/N gasped and pushed him away, Bucky quickly backing up with the phone in his hand. He exhaled sharply, his eyes widening. “I…I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said quietly.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault,” Y/N said, shaking her head and looking down. “I’m sorry…I got carried away. I’ll um, let you handle that and you can give it back when you’re done,” she said, glancing at the phone, then gave him a quick look and walked away. She nearly ran to the bathroom, hiding in one of the stalls and sliding down to the floor as she tried to even out her breathing. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Bucky to touch her, in fact she’d had way too many dirty dreams starring him doing much worse things to her since she started working here. She would gladly fuck Bucky, but she didn’t want to lose her job or have to give it up like Peggy had with Steve. She needed this job. She needed to take care of herself, so that if he ever came around, she wouldn’t fall for it all again.

***

The rest of that day she had focused solely on Steve and all he needed her to do. When the day was over she marched toward the front door by the reception desk where she found Bucky talking to Kamala.

“Oh, have a good night, Y/N!” Kamala called out to her and waved.

“You, too, K,” Y/N said quickly, giving her a quick smile. She glanced at Bucky quickly. “G’night Buck.” She walked fast out of the office toward the elevator down the hall. She heard Buck say goodbye to Kamala then follow her out.

“Y/N, hey, hold on,” he called out to her.

She sighed silently as she pushed the down button and turned to face him with a polite smile. “Yes?”

Bucky stared at her for a moment before the elevator dinged and they both entered the elevator. Y/N pressed the parking floor level button and leaned back against the elevator wall. Bucky’s mouth opened and closed multiple times before he finally turned to face her with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, again,” he said, his voice sounding strained.

“It’s fine, Buck–”

“No, it’s not,” he interrupted her. “I shouldn’t have…roughhoused you like that.”

Y/N chuckled. “Roughhoused?”

“Yes, I’m an old man, don’t judge me,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes, a small smile on his face.

“I’m sorry I teased you with the texts so much,” Y/N said. “I just have a bit of a…history, and it threw me for a loop for a second.” He looked at her quizzically but she didn’t want to explain. “She’s got quite the vocabulary,” she said with a teasing smirk, changing the subject.

Bucky snorted, hanging his head as Y/N laughed. “Yeah, it was uh…quite the date,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t text her back. It was all just a bit much.” Y/N hummed and he handed the work phone back to her. “I politely told her to get lost and blocked her number,” he said. She took the phone and nodded. “I really am sorry,” he repeated. Y/N met his gaze. He was sincere and repentant, a knowing look in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt or scare you.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment before giving him a small smile. “I know.”

***

Y/N was walking by the reception desk one day on her way back in from lunch when she stopped in her tracks. Kamala was speaking to a man that Y/N recognized. It was Vic, her ex. Kamala looked uncomfortable and met Y/N’s gaze with a concerned look. Y/N’s eyes were wide and she shook her head minutely, hoping Kamala would get the message. Kamala looked down then back up at Vic. “I’m sorry, we don’t have anyone here by that name,” she said sweetly. “Maybe you have the wrong address?” She distracted him, making him face away enough that Y/N was able to slip by down the hallway. Once she was out of earshot she ran into Bucky’s office, closing the door and locking it behind herself. She was panting, trying to calm herself.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice came from behind her. She whirled around to face him. He looked confused. She held her finger to her mouth and a call came into his office phone. He frowned and answered the call. “Yes?” he asked. He listened for a moment before looking at Y/N. “A Victor Creed is here to see me?” Y/N shook her head frantically, her eyes stinging with tears flowing fast. Bucky’s face shifted into a look of surprise at her response as he stood. “I’ll come up front in a moment,” he said before hanging up. He rounded his desk and reached out to her, taking her hands in his. “Who is he?” he asked quietly.

“History,” Y/N whispered.

Bucky’s face twisted in recognition at the conversation they’d had weeks before, then his expression became stony. “Stay here. Lock the door. I’ll knock twice once it’s safe.”

Y/N sniffled and nodded as he squeezed her hands, then had her stay behind the door as he opened it and walked down the hallway. She locked it behind him and stood stock still as she waited and listened. She could only hear muffled voices for a few minutes, then Vic’s voice getting louder before a slammed door made her jump. Footsteps came back down the hallway, then two quiet knocks on the door. She sighed as she unlocked the door with a shaky hand. Bucky slowly opened it, watching her carefully. “He’s gone,” he said, taking a step toward her with his hands up. “Kamala is calling security to have him trespassed from the building.” Y/N nodded, gnawing on her lip as her arms were tensed and tightly wrapped around herself. “It’s okay. You’re safe. Everything’s going to be alright,” he said quietly. She swallowed harshly as her tears kept falling. “Can I give you a hug?” Bucky asked.

Y/N stared at him for a moment before a sob broke through, and she nodded as she hung her head. Bucky stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest as she cried heavily. She gripped the lapels of his suit jacket, shivering against him. “I told him it was over,” she cried. “I told him to leave me alone.”

Bucky’s fingers pet the back of her head, running through her hair. “This isn’t your fault, Y/N,” he said quietly. “He’s obviously stalking you.”

She nodded against his chest. After another moment of him holding her she pulled away and sniffed quickly, wiping her face. “God, ugh, I’m sorry,” she grunted, clearing her throat. “I’m so sorry to bring this…drama to the workplace. I thought I had handled it but apparently not. I completely understand if you have to let me go–”

“Why the hell would I do that?” Bucky scoffed. “You’re the best personal assistant I’ve ever had.” He stepped toward her again and reached for her hands, holding her fingers lightly as his thumbs ran over her knuckles. “Here’s what we’re going to do. He’s being trespassed from the building. You will be escorted by security, or at the very least one of us, to and from your car every day.”

“Buck you don’t have to–”

“Like hell I don’t,” he interrupted her with a stern look. “You’ll turn on your location on the work phone and share it with me and the others. And you and I are going to go to the police station to make a report, go online and fill out a protective order or stalking injunction, then drop it off at the court later.” Y/N’s tears came back. She hadn’t been able to rely on anyone for years, had lost all contact and close relationships with her friends and family because of him, so to have someone worry and care about her enough to try to help her was overwhelming. Bucky let go of one of her hands and reached that hand up to wipe away her new tears. “Okay?” he asked.

“Okay,” she nodded.

***

Bucky, the other partners, and the entire office was a godsend to Y/N. He had accompanied her when they filled out the protective order and turned it into the courthouse, then to the police station as she made a report. Working in a law firm was helpful in that she was able to file a cease and desist by the end of the day, and with Bucky’s connections to certain officers at the station was able to know when Vic was served with everything. Over the next few weeks she was accompanied to and from work from her car in the parking garage by someone, usually Bucky, Steve, Tony, and at other times by some of the paralegals. Scott was one of her favorites, always making it seem like she was the president and he was the secret service.

She was grateful to all of them for their efforts and willingness to help her. It made her feel like a burden, but she was quickly reminded that they really didn’t mind when she brought it up. Her protective order was granted, and she proceeded into getting a restraining order since they lasted longer.

Five months later as Bucky’s team was working late on a big case she packed up her bag. “Alright, I’m heading out,” she announced to the room.

They all hummed or bid her half-hearted farewells, their attention all focused on the paperwork in front of them. Bucky’s head snapped up. “Hold on, doll, let me walk you down.”

“Bucky, it’s fine, honestly,” Y/N waved away his concern, backing up to the front door. “It’s been months. I’m sure I’ll be fine. You shouldn’t have to babysit me–”

“Freeze,” he barked at her. Y/N’s eyes widened and she stood still, everyone else falling silent at his raised voice. “I’m coming with you,” he said with no room for argument. He slipped his jacket back on and grabbed his keys before walking up to her. “Let’s go,” he said in a quiet, much more gentle tone.

The ride in the elevator and walk to her car was silent. Once she had unlocked her car door and put her purse in she turned to Bucky. “Thank you–”

“Y/N, I need you to understand something,” Bucky interrupted her. He was frowning, looking down at her with an intensity she’d never seen directed at her before. “You are not a burden. I am not babysitting you. I want to help you. I want you to be safe. I need you…” he paused, swallowing harshly. “I care about you,” he said quietly.

Y/N stared at him in disbelief. She had made good friendships at the office, and she and Bucky had become close, with her managing every aspect of his job and life for over a year. She trusted him, and if she were honest with herself, she liked him as much more than her boss, and more than a friend. But to hear it from him in this context made her feel emotional. She felt tears start stinging her eyes and blinked rapidly to make them go away.

“Thank you,” she replied. “I appreciate that. I…I care about you, too.”

Bucky watched her for a moment before taking a step toward her. He looked down at her for a moment, the intensity in his eyes making her knees feel weak. His gaze fell to their feet then he wound an arm around her shoulders and hugged her, kissing her forehead lightly. “I’ll see you Monday,” he whispered into her hair.

Y/N gently hugged him back, enjoying how his cologne wrapped around her like a blanket. She closed her eyes as he held her, then opened them when he stepped away. “See you,” she said quickly. She gave him a small smile then got into her car. Bucky stepped back and watched her drive away. Y/N didn’t know what to think of the interaction. It wasn’t necessarily work appropriate, but also not quite wrong between friends outside of work. When she got home she tried to shake it off as another strange moment as she took off her heels and dropped her bag in the entryway. She walked to the kitchen, pulling some things out to make a quick dinner when she felt like something was off. She glanced around, then saw a shadow in the corner of the dining room. She froze when she saw Vic standing there out of the corner of her eye, watching her. Y/N knew it was too late, and subtly called the last number she had called, which just so happened to be Bucky.

As it rang quietly she turned around and faced Vic head on, looking him in the eye. When she could hear Bucky pick up she spoke loud enough for him to hear. “What are you doing here, Vic?” she asked, her voice sounding angry, which she was thankful for with how afraid she was.

Vic chuckled and stepped toward the kitchen into the light. He looked rougher than the last time she saw him, like he hadn’t been eating, and he smelled like he hadn’t showered in a long while. His eyes were bloodshot, and with how he swayed as he walked she could tell he was either extremely drunk or high on something. “Hey princess,” he slurred. “Just came to see how things are going. How’s the new boy toy treating you?”

“Boy toy?” Y/N scoffed. “Who are you talking about?”

“That boss of yours,” Vic snarled, stumbling toward her. He tried to reach out and grab her, but she quickly stepped out of his reach. He grunted as he righted himself.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Y/N said. “Even if he was, you have no right to be jealous of me or who I associate with. We are not together.”

“Right, you being an ‘independent’ woman and all,” Vic mocked her, making air quotes with his fingers.

“Y/N! I’m coming!” she heard Bucky’s voice muffled against her chest from her phone.

Y/N tried to keep her wits about her, thinking through her options. Help was coming. Bucky was coming. Just keep talking. “I am now,” she asserted herself. She angled her body sideways, getting into a better fighting stance and turning toward the front door. “You hurt me, Vic. You controlled, isolated, and abused me. And I deserve better than that.”

Vic laughed. “You deserve what I think you deserve. Which right now, is to be my little cumslut, like you used to be when you were a good little princess. So, get on your knees,” he said, rushing toward her.

Y/N punched him, making his head whip to the side, then used his drunkenness against him as she pushed him as hard as she could away from her, making him stumble and fall to the floor. Y/N held her phone as she ran to the front door. As she was unlocking it Vic ran up behind her and lifted her off her feet, throwing her back toward the dining room where she fell hard on the floor. The phone clattered a few feet away from her, and as she crawled toward it Vic grabbed her feet, trying to pull her back. She kicked and screamed, hearing Bucky’s voice faintly yelling through the phone, a few feet beyond the knife.

As Vic was able to turn her to her back, she punched him again, enraging him further. “You stupid bitch!” he screamed in her face.

Y/N screamed back in his face, then Vic was pulled back off of her. She gasped as she saw Bucky wrench Vic away, put him in a chokehold and fall on top of him. Vic struggled, scratching at Bucky’s arms and hands as he choked and gasped for air. Bucky grunted and tightened his grip more. “Go to sleep, fucker,” he growled. After another minute Vic slowly lost control of his arms, his eyes rolling back in his head until he passed out. Bucky let go of him, but stayed on top of him in case he woke up. “Call the police,” Bucky glanced at her.

***

She watched the police officers and paramedics work on Vic in the entryway, loading him on a gurney that he was promptly handcuffed to. They checked her and Bucky over, treating the scratches on Bucky’s hands and arms and her bruises and scrapes. She was questioned by police officers as they took pictures of her and Bucky’s injuries as well as the knocked over furniture in her apartment. Y/N answered them as best as she could, Bucky sitting with her the entire time until they finally left.

“Y/N?” Bucky called to her, turning to face her. She looked at him blankly. He was watching her carefully, reaching a hand out and taking hers closest to him. “Do you wanna stay here tonight?” She shook her head fervently. “You can stay with me if you want,” he offered. “Would you like to do that?”

Y/N nodded absentmindedly. She couldn’t think of anything better in that moment than a shower and a different place to stay. Bucky helped her pack a bag, then guided her out of her apartment to the parking lot. He helped her into his car, and she melted into the front seat. She felt numb, unable to get her thoughts together to form anything coherent. The rational part of her mind knew that it was trying to protect itself from the trauma of the night, but she couldn’t quite come to that conclusion yet.

She was almost falling asleep when Bucky pulled into the garage of a home. He got out and helped her out of the car, carrying her bag as he guided her into the house. He led her through the house until he walked into what looked like a guest bedroom, setting her bag on the bed. He turned to look at her. “The bathroom is there,” he pointed at a door in the corner. He looked at her nervously. “Do you…do you need, um, help?”

Y/N stared at him for a long moment. She didn’t know what she wanted. Her eyes flicked around the room. “I…I don’t…know,” she whispered.

Bucky nodded. “Okay, well, how about you go shower, and uh, here,” he opened her bag and pulled out some pajamas and underwear, walking to the bathroom and putting the clothes down before coming back out, “and I’ll wait here just in case. Is that okay?”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered. She couldn’t seem to find her voice, afraid that if she were any louder it would somehow make everything real. Bucky nodded and gave her a small, reassuring smile before he sat himself on the bed. Y/N walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind herself. She felt like she was jerky in her movements as she stripped herself of her clothes, heaping them in the sink. She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. Her hair was a mess from fighting him off, her mascara streaked down her face from the tears she unknowingly shed earlier, and a bruise showing near her hairline from when she hit the ground. She shivered and turned on the shower. The water was too hot, but she barely felt it as she washed herself.

Y/N turned off the water and walked out of the shower. She wrapped herself in a towel as she dried off, fixing her hair and rubbing her face. She looked at herself in the mirror again. Back to normal, she thought. But this wasn’t normal. Nothing about tonight was normal. Nothing about her life for the past few years had been normal. The adrenaline seemed to all wear off in a second, and her sobriety made her gasp. She doubled over as the soreness from the fight hit her out of nowhere, and she cried out as she held herself and kneeled to the floor.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice called out from behind the door. “Are you alright? What was that noise?” She couldn’t answer. Her throat was closed, choking on sobs. “I’m coming in,” he warned her, then the door opened. He looked around, finding her on the floor in the fetal position. “Oh, doll,” he cooed, kneeling down quickly. Bucky’s arms cradled her, moving her until he was able to help her stand. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her clothes and leading her to the bed. She cried as he held her, her face buried into his collarbone, her fingers gripping his shirt tightly. He sat her on the bed and kneeled in front of her to catch her eye, reaching a hand up and wiping away her tears. “Can I help you get dressed?” he whispered. Y/N nodded as she hung her head in her hands. She didn’t care about how awkward or inappropriate this was at this point. Bucky handed her her underwear, then closed his eyes. Y/N dropped the towel and put on her underwear quickly. Bucky then blindly grabbed her shirt, opening his eyes while his head was facing down as he fixed the shirt, then closed his eyes again as he held it up so she could slip her head and arms through it. He did the same for her sleep shorts, the backs of his fingertips sliding along her thighs and hips momentarily.

Bucky then stood and opened his eyes, looking down at her as he stepped forward in between her legs. He slowly cupped her face in his hands and made her look at him. “I know it’s a really stupid question, but, are you okay?” he asked.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, a fresh wave of tears starting to fall. “He…he was going to hurt me again.”

Bucky nodded. “I know, but you did the right thing in calling for help. I’m just sorry I couldn’t get there sooner,” he said, biting his lip when it trembled. “And you fought back, Y/N. You fought hard and you won. Do you hear me?” he dipped his head down to be eye level with her. “You won. He’ll never hurt you again. You protected yourself, and I’m so proud of you,” he paused, his voice wobbling with emotion. “I’m proud of you for keeping yourself safe. God, when I saw him on top of you I–” he gritted his teeth, frowning deeply. “I can’t lose you.”

Y/N stared at him. He’d confessed he cared about her earlier that night, but now he seemed like he maybe cared more than he’d let on. “I’m just your assistant,” she said.

Bucky chuckled. “Best assistant I’ve ever had,” he smiled. “But you, you’re…like I said, I care about you.”

Y/N eyed him warily, but she was too exhausted to try to argue or read into it anymore for the night. She sighed and nodded. “I need to sleep,” she whispered, her body feeling like it could collapse at any moment.

“Okay,” Bucky agreed, moving to the top of the bed and turning down the covers, helping her get situated.

“Please stay,” Y/N said, grabbing his wrist.

Bucky’s eyes widened but he nodded. “Okay.”

He sat at the end of the bed as Y/N got comfortable. After she shifted repeatedly she looked at him. “Could you, um…would you please…hold me?” she asked hesitantly.

Bucky immediately nodded. “Yeah,” he said, then climbed up the bed. He settled under the covers and held his arms open to her. Y/N scooted close to him, her head tucked under his chin, resting against his chest, and the moment his arms were wrapped around her protectively she cried again, this time quietly, her body trembling as it tried to relax. “It’s okay, doll, I’ve got you,” he mumbled, kissing the top of her head. “You’re safe. You’re safe here. You can stay as long as you want. I’m right here…” He rambled on for a while, his low voice helping soothe her nerves and lull her to sleep. The last thing she felt was his hands rubbing her back gently, his lips kissing her forehead.

***

Y/N woke up the next morning extremely warm and comfortable. The bed underneath her was…moving? She shifted herself, realizing that the bed she was on was a body. Her head snapped up and looked to see Bucky. He was still asleep, laying on his back with Y/N draped across his side, her head still on his chest, her arm across his waist and her leg hiked up over his groin and legs. A flood of memories rushed in her head, making her shut her eyes tight at the headache it caused. She laid her head back down on his chest, groaning at the soreness in her body. His arm draped across her back that held her against him instinctively tightened and he hummed as his free hand bent up and under his head, making him look relaxed. Y/N couldn’t help but to stare at him. Getting to see Bucky asleep was quite the sight. The nearly perpetual frown he had at work when focusing on cases and handling issues was gone, making him look younger and peaceful.

Y/N reached a hand up and softly scratched at the beard hair on his chin, caressing his cheek and tracing along different parts of his face. She felt like she was skipping a lot of steps, and that this was definitely inappropriate, but couldn’t find it in herself to care. His eyes fluttered as she traced down his nose, and he started to wake up. She tucked herself back into his side quickly, closing her eyes as Bucky started to squirm. He groaned beneath her, stretching as best as he could with her nearly on top of him before she felt his lips on her forehead again. “Y/N,” he grunted, then cleared his throat. “Good morning.” Y/N didn’t want to move. She didn’t answer and his free hand shuffled from underneath his head to reach down and poke her side gently. “Come on, doll, time to wake up,” he said quietly.

She hummed unhappily, shaking her head against his chest. “Five more minutes,” she rasped.

Bucky chuckled, making her shake. “As comfortable as I am, let’s get you fed, huh?” She shook her head again, her arms tightening around him. He shifted himself to face her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. “Were you touching my face?” he asked, a teasing tone in his voice. Y/N hid her face into his chest to hide her blush. Bucky chuckled again. “Why were you touching my face?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N replied, her voice muffled in his shirt. “You just looked so…peaceful and cozy.”

He hummed, the vibration in his chest warming her face. She finally moved and looked up at him, meeting his tired gaze. “Hi,” he whispered.

“Good morning,” Y/N whispered back with a small smile.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked quietly, reaching a hand up and moving her hair out of her face.

“Hm…tired, and sore,” she groaned. Her stomach growled then, and it made him smile widely.

“And hungry,” he smirked. “Come on.” They both slowly got up, and separated for a few minutes to get cleaned up and ready for the day. He met her at the door to the guest bedroom and led her to the kitchen, where he had her sit at the bar stool at the island while he gathered some food together. “You like waffles?” he asked.

“I love waffles,” Y/N smiled brightly.

While Bucky worked on breakfast Y/N took a look around the kitchen. Since they had come to his house late at night and she had been merely surviving emotionally at the time she hadn’t been able to get a good look at the house. She gazed at the design and layout of the kitchen that was open to the dining room, and just beyond an arched wall she could see into an office, sitting room area. The entire house was a moody, dark academia style, making her smile again. Dark and brooding but with charming aspects, like the man making her waffles.

“I love your house,” she said, catching his attention. “Did you have it designed?”

“I did,” Bucky smiled, plating a waffle for her. “My sister is an interior designer.”

“Your sister?” Y/N asked with raised eyebrows. “How did I not know you have a sister?”

“Just because you’re my personal assistant doesn’t mean I’m gonna tell you everything,” he smirked as he handed her the plate, along with a butter dish and the maple syrup.

“Obviously not,” Y/N smirked back at him. She buttered the waffle and poured the syrup before cutting into it and taking a bite. She sighed happily at the taste, giving Bucky an appreciative nod, making him smile. “So good,” she mumbled around the mouthful.

“Good,” Bucky said, then turned to make some more. He cooked up some eggs and poured her some coffee and juice. He leaned on the island across from her and ate as well, both of them getting their fill until the waffles and eggs were gone. He took the dishes and put them in the dishwasher before turning back to face her again. He stared at her for a minute before licking his lips.

Y/N sighed. She couldn’t keep playing this back and forth, weird sexual tension game anymore. Her emotions were all over the place, and annoyance was winning. “You keep saying ‘I care about you.’ What does that mean?”

Bucky’s eyes widened as he frowned. “It means I care about you. I want to help you, like I said. I’ve seen these things happen before and I couldn’t just let it be–”

“‘I’ve seen these things happen before.’ So you wanted to save me.” She knew she was lashing out, but couldn’t stop herself. “But it’s never happened to you, has it?” Y/N slipped off the stool, rounded the island and came toe to toe with him, Bucky backing up slightly at her voice raising. “You don’t know what it feels like to be afraid every day. You don’t know what it’s like to be stalked, harassed, beaten, raped, broken! So why do you care so much?!” She asked, her eyes burning with more tears falling.

Bucky’s own eyes looked teary as he looked down at her sadly. “My sister was in an abusive relationship,” he said quietly. “He almost killed her. She got away and didn’t want help, but it haunted her. She was a shell of herself. I couldn’t lose her, she’s the only family I have left,” he swallowed harshly. “So I helped her as best as I could. It took her a while, but eventually she got better, and is still healing. I don’t know how it feels. I don’t know what you need. I just want to help,” he said, his lips pressing together firmly.

Y/N digested his words, her mind still feeling slow in processing things. She blinked rapidly as she sniffed. “Fine,” she agreed. Bucky seemed relieved and nodded. “I’m going to get my stuff, then I’ll be out of your hair,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Don’t do that,” Bucky said gruffly back.

“Don’t do what?” Y/N asked.

“Don’t push me away just because I offered you help. Don’t get angry and defensive because someone wants to take care of you,” he replied.

“I never asked for your help,” she said quietly.

“Stop it,” Bucky said, stepping closer to her. “If you didn’t want help you wouldn’t have called me.”

She stared up at him defiantly. He was close to her like that day when she teased him in the office a while ago. Y/N wanted to push him, see how far he was willing to go in this back and forth they’d been having for so long. “I care about you,” kept rattling around in her head as she tried to make sense of it. Yes, he cared. But it felt like something else. Something more simmering underneath the words.

“You care so much,” she sneered, stepping even closer. “Why?”

“Because I’m a good person?” Bucky said incredulously.

She shook her head. “And?”

He looked like he was fighting against himself. “I don’t need another reason. And I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Is it because you want something from me?” she ventured. “You help me and I’ll be so eternally grateful I’ll throw myself at you?”

Bucky recoiled. “Stop that.”

“Well that’s what you want, right?” Y/N pushed further. “I saw it that day when Steve and I were teasing you, and it went a little too far. You wanted more,” her eyes flickered to his lips and back to his eyes.

Bucky shut his eyes and shook his head, taking a step back. “Y/N, you just went through something traumatic. You’re lashing out because you don’t know how to handle it right now–”

Y/N said, stepping toward him again. “All I need is a straight answer. You wanted more, yes or no?”

Bucky opened his eyes but couldn’t keep her gaze. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” he said, his jaw ticking when he finished.

“Still didn’t answer my question,” Y/N said, sounding more annoyed. “You wanna help me? Think of this as my first round of therapy. I’m working through some rough feelings right now, Boss. I need an answer!”

“Yes! Okay? Goddammit,” Bucky said, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Yes, I want more with you. But that doesn’t matter. Especially right now. I’m not going to take advantage of a highly emotional moment in your life and try to slip in just to ‘get some,’ that’s not what I want. And it’s insulting to me that you think that of me,” Bucky pointed his finger at her. “Some people really do just care about you, you know that? Some people really just want to help because they care about you, because they like you, they love you!”

Y/N was fully crying again, her arms holding herself even more tightly than before. His raised voice was making her shrink into herself. “No one loves me,” she whispered.

“I do!” Bucky yelled.

Y/N flinched and Bucky’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Y/N said, taking a step back. “Just please stop yelling.”

Bucky sighed heavily, his hand rubbing his face harshly before he raised his hands in front of himself like he was surrendering. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to yell,” he said quietly. “Please, I…I’m just trying to help.”

Y/N bit her lip as she tried to control her crying, but instead it just made her choke on a sob that broke through. She wasn’t scared of Bucky. She knew he would never hurt her, but the raised voice and yelling was triggering. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for questioning you and your motives. I’m sorry,” she tried stepping away but he walked toward her.

“Y/N,” he pleaded. “Don’t run away. Please, I’m sorry,” he reached toward her, leaving his hand outstretched with his palm up as an invitation.

Y/N’s eyes flicked from his hand to his face repeatedly. The dichotomy of wanting to run away and hide versus wanting to be comforted was making her panic. Ultimately she slowly reached out and gave him her hand. Bucky slowly stepped toward her, taking her hand and holding it gently but firmly as he pulled her towards him. She stepped toward him hesitantly, and he moved slowly as he wrapped his arms around her, watching her reactions carefully. He pulled her until their bodies were flush against each other and her arms wrapped behind his back, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. His hand moved to hold the back of her head against him gently, running his fingers through her hair as they breathed deeply, and she matched her breathing to his to calm down. “I do want you,” he whispered in her ear. “I do like you. If I’m honest, I’ve been falling in love with you since the moment I met you.”

Y/N huffed a short laugh against his skin. “I knew it,” she whispered.

“Can you blame me?” Bucky chuckled, nuzzling her hair with his nose.

Y/N smiled. “Thank you, Bucky. I’m sorry I…I don’t know what’s going on with me right now.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Bucky breathed, squeezing her tighter. He pulled away just enough to look at her.

They stared at each other and she gulped. “Can I have…could we try…one k-kiss?” she asked.

Bucky’s eyes minutely widened, inhaling sharply. “I-I don’t know if I could…stop myself at one,” he confessed.

“That’s okay,” Y/N said.

Bucky’s eyes flickered to her lips and back to her eyes. His hands moved from her back up to her face, cupping her cheeks and angling her head upwards. “You want me?” he asked breathily. Y/N nodded as he leaned forward, angling his head and brushing his lips across hers first, like he was testing the waters of his own sanity. He finally fully pressed his lips on hers and kissed her softly.

Y/N sucked in a breath, kissing him back just as softly. It was just as perfect as she had dreamt it would be, from all those nights she had fallen asleep to the thought of him, while chastising herself for her feelings and denying it. It ended too soon when he pulled away, though not too far as his nose nuzzled her nose. Y/N whimpered at the loss, and he had to shut his eyes tight again. “Fuck, doll, that was a pretty noise,” he groaned. His fingers slipped back into her hair. “More?” he begged.

Y/N nodded and he kissed her again. This one was firmer, heavier, and his grip on her was tighter. Her fingers fisted his shirt, her arms pulling him by the waist impossibly closer to her as she angled her head more and pushed up on her tip-toes to deepen the kiss. Bucky grunted, and before she knew it he was picking her up and setting her on the kitchen counter. The kisses were passionate, Bucky’s tongue sneaking out to lick at her bottom lip and Y/N opening up to him easily. They tasted each other, nipping at each other’s lips, their hands roaming each other’s bodies. Bucky was standing between her spread legs, his hands now kneading her thighs up to her hips as she tasted him and sucked on his tongue.

“Holy shit, doll,” he moaned when she released him. “I just wanna make it clear that I’m not trying to take advantage of you in a fragile state–”

“Just fuck me, Bucky,” Y/N groaned, running her fingers through his hair and pulling him back in for a seering kiss.

“Yeah…yeah okay,” Bucky huffed against her mouth, picking her up and carrying her back to the guest room.

***

When they got to work that next Monday Y/N was greeted with excited smiles and hugs. Apparently word had spread quickly. “Oh! I’m so glad you’re okay!” Kamala said, hugging her tightly.

Steve stepped up afterward, hugging her like she was his little sister. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said quietly. “So proud of you.”

Y/N smiled appreciatively at him. “Thank you. Thank you, everybody,” she waved at them all. “I’m fine, really.”

“Now quit distracting my assistant. Fuck off!” Bucky said loudly, and they all went back to work in a hurry, Steve just rolling his eyes and smiling as he walked off to his office. Bucky had his hand on her lower back as he guided her towards his office. Once they were inside he shut the door. “Take a seat, doll,” he said. “Let’s go over the schedule.”

“Alright,” Y/N nodded, getting herself settled and her notebook and phone ready. “And uh, thank you, by the way, for kinda saving me back there.”

“No need to thank me,” Bucky shook his head. “Now listen, I know we’re in a weird spot right now. I want this,” he gestured between the two of them, “to work, but I don’t want you to lose this job on account of that, either. And you’re honestly the best personal assistant I’ve ever had. So, I want work to be work, and home to be home. Does that sound fair?”

“Yes,” she nodded, smiling at how business-like he sounded.

“Great,” he nodded back. “So…the schedule.”

THE END?

#marvel #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #request #anon ask #ask #long oneshot

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mj0702 · 9 months ago

Text

The other Bronze – Part 11

Hey guys... here's the promised next Part

As always my thanks go out to all my anons (especially gold star and lunatic), to my Bubs @samkerrworshipper and my best management @valewosomtb 🤣

I hope you enjoy it and since I'm bored AF Part12 is already in the making ❤️

“Hey... hey” you suddenly hear after you stomped out of the hotel and you felt a hand on your shoulder stopping you from getting away “What's the matter Liefje?”

You turned around to come face to face with one Sarina Wiegman who looked at you concerned. You were so angry that you couldn't answer her and just started to throw your arms up and around trying to bring your point across while grunting deeply

“Okay... calm down...” Sarina said after a minute of you flinging your arms around grabbing your shoulders to ground you

You took several deep breaths knowing your adoptive mom wouldn't push you and most certainly wouldn't judge you for your actions

“Good... you're doing good.... just calm down and tell me what happened” the Dutch woman spoke calmly seeing that Leah came sprinting out of the hotel looking for you. Sarina shook her head at her Capitan and the blonde retreated back after she saw the national team coach already took care of you

“She roomed me with... LJ” you practically spit out the name of the young player

“Who? What?” Sarina looked confused

“Leah... she roomed me with James” you got upset again

“Okay.... keep calm Liefje... I'll talk to Leah – but I think she had her reasons... and you can always sleep in my room if you want” the blonde Dutch said keeping her voice calm

“But WHY would she do that?” you asked your voice getting desperate

“We can go ask her – and don't forget y/n... none of the know what happened three years ago” Sarina reminded you softly

“Still.. it's not really a secret that we don't get along” you huffed knowing your “mom” was right once again

“Just get your stuff I'm in room 528” Sarina smiled giving you the opportunity to swap rooms if you wanted to

“Naah it's fine... wouldn't go over the Skippers head” you smiled already planning tons of pranks on Leah and tons of things to annoy LJ

“You know where to find me if you need me” the Dutch smiled back “And now off you go... meeting in 30 minutes”

“Yes mevrouw” you saluted mockingly

“Your dutch gets better... Viv or Jill?” Sarina grinned ignoring your little teasing

“Viv... Jill only teaches me stuff you wouldn't approve of” you grinned

“Why am I not surprised.. now off... 25 Minutes” the blonde smiled “Oh and y/n...” she said after you started to scramble off

“Yeah?” you turned around again

“If you ever need to talk about what happened back then... I'm always here to listen okay?” the dutch said and you heard that she was serious

“Yeah I know Mama Rina... thank you” you smiled softly

“Always Liefje” Sarina smiled back before shushing you away

“y/n” you heard when you entered the lobby again

“Not now Williamson” you growled at her “Just give me my fucking room card and leave me alone”

Leah was taken aback at your aggressive tone and handed you your card

“406” the blonde Capitan said as you snatched the card out of her hand

You grabbed your bag which was standing next to Leahs feet (definitely NOT where you left it) and walked towards the staircase

“There's an elevator” the blonde yelled after you confused

“Need to let some steam off or I'll rearrange my roommates face” you yelled back as you pushed the door to the staircase open disappearing in it

You used the stairs to the first floor to warm your leg muscles up before doing high knees until the second floor and then do some footwork until floor 3 and then use the remaining steps to cool down a little. When you finally reached your room you pulled out your phone asking your girlfriend for her room number before you took a deep breath swiping the card to open the door.

“There you are slow poke” LJ grinned at you while you considered ignoring her or punching her but since you knew Sarina wouldn't be too happy with you punching one of her forwards you decided to ignore her

“Hey... I talked to you... you really going to ignore me?” the dark skinned woman said confused

“Okay look... here's how this is going to work... If I'm in here, you are not... if you are in here I won't be” you sighed deeply throwing your bag on the empty bed

“What... what's wrong? Jesus y/n... why are you hostile towards me?” LJ asked and THAT really hit a nerve with you

“Really??? YOU of all people asked why I'M so hostile?? YOU were the reason I nearly needed a FOURTH ACL surgery bitch” you exploded not knowing Keira was right outside your door

“Oh my god... is this what this is all about?? For god heavens – that was like... three years ago” LJ rolled her eyes

“I told you the whole time I CAN'T kick a ball.... and what do you do? You passed it right into my walk... I was on crutches!!!” you yelled “YOU made me fall and instead of coming over and help me you fucked off because you were scared Lucy would rip you in half!! Sarina of all people found me... SARINA who just took over from Phil... she found me and alerted the medics that I needed med aid... and what did they do... shipped me off to hospital because my stitches ripped open and I was bleeding like fuck... they wanted to fast track me into the OR... they just didn't because neither Luce nor Keira were there with us to approve for a surgery... so thank you for that backstabbing bitch...”

“It wasn't on purpose!” the darker one defended herself

“Bullshit!!! Your accuracy is at something over 90... you knew EXACTLY where that ball would end up!!” you were THIS close to strangle her

“You can't prove it” LJ said and you knew you were right

“I don't need prove because I KNOW... and now fuck off... I need to shower” you growled turning towards the bathroom “Oh and if you decide to ignore my warning... I bet you look DASHING without eyebrows”

When you exit the shower you were relieved to find the room empty – or so you thought. You just started to change when you heard a voice behind you

“Is it true? That it was LJ who made you trip and not your clumsiness?” you immediately reconized Keiras voice.

You didn't even jump. You just stilled your movement hanging your head low sighing deeply

“You were never meant to hear that” you said your voice barley above a whisper

“God y/n... that was a yes or no question” Keira pressed the matter

“No comment” you sighed

“Why didn't you tell me?” the blonde asked

“There's nothing to tell... I tripped” you sighed again before pulling Georgias shirt over your head and turning around faking a happy smile

“You never lied to me.. don't start now Bitsy” Keira said immediately her eyes locking on yours

“I won't say anything regarding that matter... it's in the past and it's over...” you shrugged your shoulders

“Then tell me at least why” the blonde said not letting go – you never expected her you just knew Keira too well

“I ain't no snitch... she was... is.. she is the “new star” in this team... isn't that what the media called her... if I'd said something Lucy would have probably killed her... you too... so.. I tripped” you shrugged your shoulders again but the look on your face was deeply sad

“God Bitsy...” Keira sighed sadly running her hands over her face “... you should have said something... it all makes so much more sense now... you don't touch a ball only because you're hurting... but because you're scared – the last time a ball touched your feet you ended up in hospital again... alone”

“Wasn't alone... Sarina was with me – never let go of my hand” you mumbled

“Is that why you were suddenly so close to her?” the blonde asked

“Yeah... she knew all along... she saw what happened... but I made her promise to not say anything to you or Luce... and to not kick LJ of the team because she is a good player – not a good person, but a good player... she fits in the teams playing style” you explained

“I will...” Keira started and you interrupted her quickly

“You won't anything Keira Walsh... I swear to god if you risk your place on the team then I seriously go all ballistic on your ass” you said sternly

“I don't think you realize how many people in this team love you... you grew up with 70% of the team y/n... I don't have to risk anything... I just would have to mention it to some people” Keira simply shrugged her shoulders

“Kei no... if you do that I will never forgive you... that's my thing... it doesn't concern the team or players – it only concerns me and James” you held Keiras look your features hardening

“Okay... okay” the blonde lifted her hands in a surrounding matter “But if anything else happens I want you to tell me”

“Pff... she doesn't have the balls to do anything” you rolled your eyes “But you could help me out for a hot minute” you smirked

“Your girlfriend is already downstairs hoping to escape your sister by sitting right in front of Sarina when the meeting starts...” the blonde chuckled

“That's why I didn't get an answer” you huffed “... but not the help I need... I need you to distract Lucy... just for a minute”

“Really... a quickie?” Keira raised her eyebrow

“No... god Kei... are you that desperate that you want to get included in MY sexlife???” you asked bewildered

“God no...” the blonde rolled her eyes “... you are not really my type”

“Good... because you wouldn't be able to keep up anyway” you waved off “I need Luces leather jacket...”

“I won't comment on your statement and just gonna ask... what do you need the leather jacket for?” Kei asked already starting to pinch the bridge of her nose

“You'll see... but Kei.. Pleeeaaaase... you just need to distract her for a second” you begged puppy eyes full on display

“I basically raised you... these don't work on me.. one question... whatever you planned... is it dangerous?” the blonde asked seriously

“I promise on all that is holy to me... it's not... it's just fun... your type of fun... not my type of fun” you answered honestly and Keira saw you weren't lying

“How do you want to get the jacket out of there” Keira mused

“That won't be a problem... you just need to keep her occupied for a minute” you grinned your phone already in your hand

“The things I do for your happiness Bitsy” the blonde rolled her eyes but stood up to leave for your sisters room

Two minutes later Keira knocked on the door just for Less to open it. She quickly smirked at Keira winking at her before turning around

“Lucy... Keiras here for you” the youngest one said retreating back into the room

“Yeah?” your sister said as she stepped into the doorframe

“Ehrm... yeah... I...” Keira started being a little taken aback at how Less would know before she suddenly KNEW how the holy leather jacket will exit the room and when she glanced past Lucy she already saw Less rummaging through Lucys bag “I wanted to ask if we could probably switch holidays back”

“Huh?” Lucy said confused

“Sorry... with Narla... you know how I said I would like her for Christmas? If it's okay with you could we maybe switch so you take her at Christmas?” the blonde tried to sound as convincing as possible

“Of course... you know you didn't have to come here to ask... you could just have texted” your sister looked even more confused

“Just checked on Bitsy... Leah roomed her with LJ... so I was around the corner anyway” the blonde shrugged

“Really... that's awesome!!” Lucy exclaimed happily “Maybe they start to finally get along again – I mean they were really close when they were younger”

“Scuse me...” Less pushed herself out the door lightly pushing Lucy out of the way as Keira just stepped aside seeing the light bulge under Lessis shirt

“Oi... where you going??” Lucy asked confused

“Picking up Toons for the meeting... you know her – need to be there a few minutes early to kick her ass to be there in time” the young blonde yelled as she sped walk down the corridor

“Gosh... those kids these days” your sister rolled her eyes but smiled anyway

“If I remember correctly Bronze I always had to kick your ass too so we would be on time... and the ONE camp I didn't attend you were running laps over laps because you were always late” Keira teased

“ONE time... I was late ONE time” Lucy exclaimed

“Not what Jill said” the blonde shot back laughing

“Oh please... Jill didn't even remembered her name after the Euros” your sister rolled her eyes again smiling

“You didn't either” Keira smirked “I had to pick you up”

“I mean... I was rather... tipsy” your sister smiled embarrassed

“Tipsy??? You hit on me... TWICE” the blonde bursted out laughing “Apparently I reminded you of your ex”

“Don't start...” Lucy grimaced “You want to accompany me to the meeting Mrs. Walsh?”

“Oh my... what an absolute honour Mrs. Bronze... please lead the way” Keira played along as Lucy offered her arm to her

“Okay everyone... Welcome to the first Lionesses Camp on our road to the World Cup” Sarina opened the meeting smiling as she heard a few cheers at the mention of the World Cup

“Wait... where is Less??” Tooney suddenly asked looking around

“Where's the smaller Bronze?” now Millie asked too confused

“Stanway!!” Lucy immediately yelled thinking you and your girlfriend snucked away

“Over here!” Georgia yelled back lifting her hand

“Oh... oh.... okay good... stay there” your sister pointed her finger at G narrowing her eyes

“God Luce... you're worse than your mother when we started dating” Keira rolled her eyes next to your sister

“Still... WHERE IS LESS???” Ella pretty much screamed

Suddenly the team heard the surround system springing to life as the opening cords from “You're the One that I want” starting to play. Everyone looked around confused while Sarina tried to keep her players under control. You more or less kick the door open sporting a black tight jeans and a Lioness Vintage College Jacket which you had made just for THAT entrance walking inside you looked around confused as Less rounded the corner leaning against the doorframe smirking. Who wasn't smirking was your sister when she saw what Alessia was wearing – Less wore a skin tight black leather leggings with high heels (which kicked Sarina into a frenzy already seeing Less breaking her ankle because that girl tripped over air) a 80s black top and HER holy leather jacket. You locked eyes with Less and smirked as she pushed herself off the doorframe and you started your little dance like Danny and Sandy all those years back. You even recuted Millie, Rach and Tooney as Pink Ladies pulling out the signature pink jackets from their hiding spots where you placed them before. To say there were a LOT of pictures of Millie “the brickwall” Bright stuffed in a pink jacket which was at least one size too small was an understatement. In the end three quarters of the team was dancing along while the remaining quarter took videos and pictures laughing along. Even Sarina showed off one or two dance moves. As the song ended you had Less in your arms her legs around your waist as you carried her down the aisle laughing loudly. That you stepped on LJs foot hard when you passed her was pure coincidence.

“Oh my god that was amazing” Less laughed as you set her down again

“Only took us 4.5 month to get it done but hey... a dare is a dare” you grinned

“That was one of Toons best dares to day” the blonde grinned “Did you see Sarina... she was full on groovy”

“Didn't knew she could throw out moves like that.... but now we should head back” you smirked “Not that I have to attend but I’ll suffer with you out of sympathy”

“Come on in Danny and Sandy” Sarina grinned as she saw you standing in the door again “May I ask what caused this interruption?”

“Tooney dared us” you shrugged smirking as Ella yelled a “Backstabber!”

“Oh really... not that I didn't enjoy your little show.... so a round of applause for Danny and Sandy over here” the Dutch started and then paused for the applause the team graced you with “... but now we're behind on the schedule and you know what I hate nearly as much as losing?”

“When someone takes your last stroopwaffle?” you smiled innocently already knowing where this rhetorical question is heading

“Nice one... but no... I hate being behind schedule with a passion... so both of you laps tomorrow morning before training” the blonde Dutch woman smiled sweetly as you and Less groaned out

“I even speak with the stadium manager if they could play your song while you're running” Sarina smirked

“Ugh” you rolled your eyes but accepted your fate huffing out as you plopped down in the seat next to your girlfriend which was earlier occupied by Ella who miraculously was sitting next to Niamh now.

Just as your ass touched the chair you heard Lucys signature whistle which made you turn towards her instantly looking at her confused. She nodded her head signalling you to move seats so you wouldn't sit with Georgia. You looked at her even more confused as you shook your head. Your sister nodded your head again this time with more authority to which you just lifted your middle finger smiling before pulling a face at her turning back around

“Y/n” you heard the warning of your sister clearly from three rows behind you

“What... I can sit wherever I want...” you said back but not turning around anymore before starting to smirk

“Sarina” you said innocently lifting your hand like you were back in school

“Yes? Didn't know that this was a Q&A but yes?” the Dutch said a little annoyed

“Lucy is interrupting my concentration with her talking” you faked innocents smirking as Sarinas eyes snapped towards your sister

“I didn't do anything” Lucy defended herself “Just told her to move”

“And why would she do that?” the blonde Dutch asked raising her eyebrow and you snickered knowing you just activated Mama bear mode

“I don't think it's a good idea my sister and Georgia sitting next to each other�� Lucy grumbled out

“Why? Because they're dating? Dear god Lucy... grow up... I let you room with your girlfriend at the time and don't think the whole floor didn't hear what you were up to” Sarina shot back successfully making your sister blush embarrassed while Keira coughed which sounded suspiciously like a “told you”

“Anything else to discuss?” the Dutch asked strict into the round of world class players who all shook their head eyes wide

“Good... then we can finally continue... and y/n... keep your hands to yourself so your sister won't die of a burst vein” Sarina rolled her eyes looking at a red headed sulking Lucy Bronze

“It's not like I'm gonna rip her clothes off right here and have my way with her in front of all of you....” you grumbled which caused Millie to burst out laughing at Georgias wide eyed shocked impression

“Please stop talking” your girlfriend begged with you already feeling the holes in the back of her head from Lucys hard stares

“I mean I wouldn't have a problem with it.. I already saw every single woman in this room naked so nothing to be embarrassed about for me...” you shrugged your shoulders as G covered her face with her hands groaning

“Okay...” Sarina clapped her hands “I have two more topics to discuss and then you are free for the night and you can do whatever – or whoever – you want”

You snickered as now Lucy AND your girlfriend groaned loudly. Millie actually took the opportunity to reach over Rachel to high-five you. The meeting went by without any more interruptions and about 20 Minutes later Sarina officially ended the meeting. You immediately shot out of your seat grabbing Georgias hand to pull her up but you let go immediately as you notice your sisters glare.

“Just helped her up” you lifted your hands in surrender as you walked towards the exit.

You noticed Keira bumping into you grinning knowingly. You looked at her confused but she just winked at you.

“You with me...” Lucy said as she pulled you along her arm over your shoulders

“Excuse me... this is a free country and I can go wherever I want” you exclaimed as you had no choice than to follow her

“You'll spend the evening with me...” your sister growled lowly just seconds before Tooney screamed so everyone would hear it

“Team bonding in Mearps and my room... 30 minutes... bring all the snacks we're not allowed to eat for the next week”

Mary didn't look happy but with all the happy cheers surrounding her she just sighed and just accepted it

“You'll sit next to me” Lucy declared before letting you go

“You know I have two sides, right? G can still sit next to me... or on top of me” you smirked

“My favourite place anyway” you heard your girlfriend mumble under her breath as she passed you and Lucy

“What did you just say??” your sister looked at her friend shocked

“Nothing” your girlfriend said quickly embarrassed and started to walk away a little faster

“Hey Luce” you pulled a little on your sisters shirt (mainly to distract her from going after your girlfriend)

“Yeah?” Lucy looked at you annoyed and you put on your best puppy eyes face

“Can I have a tenner please? Pleeeaaaase Lucy” you begged your voice sweet as sugar

“What you need a tenner for?” your sister asked confused

“Need to buy some snacks... saw a Tesco down the road” you shuffled around knowing small you always did the trick

“You're not going there alone... give me a minute and I'll go with you” Lucy rolled her eyes

Yep – still works. You grinned as your sister parked you at Millies side with the order to not let you wander off to which the tall player just grabbed your shirt before returning to her conversation with Lotte. Three minutes later Lucy was back with a jacket and a baseball cap on her head taking your hand as she led you outside

“I want you to know I'm not against your relationship” Lucy started once you were out of earshot from everyone

“Feels like it” you mumbled

“I'm not.. I just want to see if G stands up for you if she gets pressured” your sister assured you “Because fuck Bubs... if anyone outside of this team finds out you both are neck deep in shit”

“Lucy... I really appreciate you looking out for me... really... I love you you are my sister – more than my sister... you are my best friend... but you can't do that to G... because being pressured from YOU is far worse than anything the press could throw at her... you are her idol – she looks up to you” you said as you grabbed your sisters hand continuing to walk

“I need to be sure she can protect you Bubs” Lucy said insistent

“You know she can... who do you think she learned it from?” you answered just as firmly

“I just... I need to know she won't run” your sister said her voice now lower

“Did you know she nearly didn't take the call up for this camp because she's so scared that you basically tell her you don't approve” you blurted out “I PROMISED her that everything is going to be okay and work out... don't make me a liar Luce... I'm a lot of things but I ain't no liar”

“I... didn't know that... and I promise I will turn it down but I can't let her off the hook so easy – I'm your sister after all” Lucy said and a small smile appeared around the edges of her mouth

“How about you turn it off instead of turn it down?” you asked hopefully as you grabbed a shopping cart pushing it right into the aisle with all the sweets loading everything you could grab into the cart

“No sorry... can't do that... but I promise I turn it down... hey... you said a tenner... that's much more than a tenner” your sister exclaimed as she saw how you loaded up your shopping cart

“Good thing my sister is earning a shit ton of money then” you grinned as you climbed up the shelf to reach Starburst, Dweeps and some Taverners.

“Come back down... you space cadet will hurt yourself” Lucy whisper yelled looking around the aisle if anyone was watching you

“I'm too small to reach them otherwise” you huffed out as you stood on your toes on the second shelf

“That's a sign from God that you shouldn't eat that sugary stuff” your sister growled as she stepped behind you to hold you at your waist so she could catch you if you slip.

“We don't believe in God” you grumbled back as you FINALLY got the bag of sweets you were angling for “HA!!! Gotcha bitch” you exclaimed happily grinning widely as you hopped backwards right into Lucys arms

“Aaaaand five sets of 15... you really cashing in those push ups” your sister grinned as she caught you easily

“Oh come on... you can't up my push ups...” you whined as you started to walk towards the check-out

“That makes no sense and yes I can...” Lucy rolled her eyes smirking

“That'll be £78.85” the teenager behind the register said as he threw all your stuff in plastic bags

“EXCUSE ME???” your sister exclaimed loudly looking at you shocked “You said a tenner”

“One tenner... eight tenner... tomato tomahto” you waved off but nodded towards the cash desk grinning

“I get that money back” your sister narrowed her eyes at you as she pulled out her debit card

“How?? I don't earn money” you shrugged your shoulders as you grabbed the multiple bags

“Then you work it off... my apartment is usually a little dusty when I come back from camp” Lucy smirked as she followed you out of the shop

“Okay... don't come running to me if something important is broken” you said nonchalantly

“True.. that's not a good idea... you probably wouldn't even do it on purpose...” your sister huffed “Oh... you will be my bag boy this week...” she grinned

“Yeah no... still female” you answered after you pulled your shirt forward glancing at your chest

“God you are unbelievable” Lucy groaned

“Learned it from the best” you grinned back

“You know it Bubs” your sister smirked as the two of you entered the hotel again

You saw Sarina before she could spot you and Lucy. You quickly looked down to all the bags you were carrying and decided you got in enough trouble for one day. So you looked at Lucy with puppy eyes

“Could you please hold the bags for a second? I have something in my shoe” you pushed out your lower lip

“Course...” Lucy shrugged as you handed over all the bags getting down to untie your shoe.

“Lucia Bronze I hope these bags are not filled with snacks” you heard Sarina exclaim firmly and looked up to see Lucys white shocked face.

You couldn't help yourself and snickered quietly because your plan worked just too well

“Ehrm” Lucy started to stutter

“Why do you Bronzes always feel the need to give me a headache?” the Dutch answered not even waiting for your sister to answer

“Keira always says something similar” you grinned from your place on the ground

“Hand them over” Sarina pointed to the bags

“Mama Rina please...” you started to beg not wanting to give up your goods

“No... we are preparing” the Dutch started and you interrupted her

“... for a World Cup I know... but let us have this evening...” you used your best puppy eyes “Just tonight... Pleeeaaaase”

“You can keep ONE bag...” Sarina said giving in slightly

“Two” you quickly started to hackle

“ONE...” the Dutch stood her ground while Lucy just silently watched

“Can I put it together myself?” you asked carefully

“Sure... ONE bag Liefje” Sarina nodded

You emptied all the bags on the ground of the hotel lobby starting to sort through all your sweets already a plan forming in your head. It took you about seven minutes and all the sweets were in little piles around you.

“One bag, yes?” you asked the womens head coach

“One bag” she confirmed raising an eyebrow catching on that you got a plan

“Challenge accepted” you smirked as you carefully started to stacking the candy into one plastic bag.

And god you really outdid yourself this time. The bag was ready to explode but you fitted everything (except a bag of Wine Gums but you knew Sarina loved those) into the plastic sack smirking widely

“One Bag” you smirked smugly as Lucy couldn't hold back and bursted out laughing

“Well played Liefje... go before I change my mind” Sarina smirked back

“Come on Luce” you quickly got off the ground shoving the heavy overfilled bag in your sisters arms starting to run off.

“Please don't let her eat too much of that” the Dutch laid her hand on Lucys arm

“And let her have a full grown ass sugar rush? Absolutely not...” your sister smiled back

“Good...” Sarina nodded smiling as you turned around waiting for the elevator

“Come on Lucy... how do you want to play in a World Cup when you can't even make it to the elevator??” you yelled happily that you “outsmarted” Sarina

“Coming...” your sister yelled back not even caring that half the lobby now turned their heads towards you

“I thought you were getting snacks?” Ella said first thing as she opened the door seeing you standing there empty handed

“Sloth over there has it” you nodded towards your sister who was about three doors down carrying the bag in her arms

“Oh my GOD” Tooney gawked when she laid eyes on the full bag

“Been called that before” you said as you grinningly winked at your girlfriend just for your sister to kick you gently

“Stop it... you want me to turn it down so you turn it down as well” Lucy grumbled as she pushed past you throwing the bag onto the bed

“What... I got that through Sarina” you exclaimed

“True... that was good” your sister said impressed

“Thank you...” you grinned happily “Millie Bright I KNOW you just didn't grab MY Dweebs!!” you shouted as you threw yourself on top of Millie wrestling with her over a bag of candies

“Bitsy stop it” Keira interrupted sternly “NOW”

“But...” you whined as you sat half on top of Millie who had the Dweebs behind her back grinning at you

“No buts... come here” the blonde said firmly

“Someone is in trouble” Millie grinned

“I don't even know what I would have done” you said clueless

“Bitsy” Keira said again and her tone was just a big fat warning

You climbed of Millie and quickly shuffled over to Keira standing in front of her like a kid that just got caught with its hand in the cookie jar. Keira just nodded next to her and you knew where you would sit the entire night

“Why?” you whined as you plopped down next to her

“Over my dead body will you eat Dweebs at this time” Keira coughed “I won't have you running wild at 2AM waking up an entire hotel”

“That's not fair... I got it all up here” you grumbled and sunk back against the back of the couch

“And the team thanks you for your service” the blonde rolled her eyes as she fished a Mars bar from the pile of sweets “But no sugar for you at this time a night”

“I hate you” you looked at her darkly

“You can hate me all you want Bitsy... I'm not letting you have sugar” Keira shrugged her shoulder as Ella began to speak/yell

“Okay guys... we have a few newbies... so we start with the usual Truth or Dare... you know the rules... if you don't want to do or answer something you have three pass but then if you still deny something you get balled tomorrow” Tooney said happily as a few players groaned “We go youngest first.. y/n... start us off good” the brown haired women smirked knowing you have a few dares up your sleeve

“Okay... lets see...” you mused as your gaze over all the women in front of you before you suddenly smirk

“Lucy... truth or dare” you smirked at your sister

“Why meeee??” Lucy groaned

“Youngest to oldest” you couldn't stop smirking

“Dare... I don't want to know what you would squeeze out of me” your sister rolled her eyes

“Big mistake” you grinned darkly “I dare you to send the pretty spaniard a half nude AND get colorbook spaniard to record her reaction”

“WHAT??” Lucy exclaimed shocked as Keira burst out laughing while the rest just looked at you confused

“Pass or do it... but you know I start off lightly...” you smirked

“Scuse me who?” Mary interrupted

“Oh... sorry... pretty spaniard is Putellas... colorbook spaniard is León... OG is Batlle...” you explained “Lucy overdosed my pain meds and let me run loose at Camp Nope”

“You forgot two” Keira laughed

“Uh... yeah... the flawless and the sexy” you remembered suddenly

“I know who sexy is... and I approve” your girlfriend grinned proudly

“Oh I know... I mean I would be up...” you started before Keira put her hand over your mouth

“No sweetie...” she grinned fake

“I would be up for it too” Georgia ended your thought for you shrugging her shoulders as Kei groaned out

“Made for each other” Keira mumbled before letting you go again

“Come on Luce... what it's gonna be...” you smirked seeing your sister struggle to make a decision

“If this bites me in the ass I'm taking you down with me” Lucy narrowed her eyes at you before dialling Mapís number

“I was nice enough to say half nude and not nude” you grumbled

She quickly spoke to the blonde spaniard being as vague as possible basically threatening Maps with broken ankles if she wouldn't do as she says and to send her the video later. Poor Mapí was at the receiving end of threats again but she said she would do it but to give her five minutes as she was just on her way down to dinner. That made you burst out laughing knowing Alexia would receive a half nude from your sister while being surrounded by her whole team. Your sister ended the call and looked at you

“I don't have nudes” she pulled a face at you

“Liar liar pants on fire” you yelled out pointing at her since Keira held you back by your shoulder

“Not a liar” Lucy yelled back just as loud

“I KNOW you have nudes on that phone!!!!!” you exclaimed

“Yes but not of ME” your sister shot back before slapping her hand over her mouth while you gagged loudly and the room interrupted in laughter

“You asked for that Bitsy” Keira wiped a tear out of her eye still laughing “How did you know that anyway?”

“She has a folder on there labelled “private”... with a pin... doesn't take a genius to figure out what’s in there” you rolled your eyes which caused Keira into a new laughing fit

“She has that folder since we started dating” the blonde laughed as you looked at her shocked and started to shuffle away from her

“Oh Ew... isn't it illegal to say thinks like that to a minor??” you heaved

“You have sex you can cope with knowing that” Keira couldn't stop laughing at your horrified face

“Lucy... you still haven't fulfilled your dare” Rachel now smirked

“Yeah yeah... on it... is a photoshoot picture okay?” she looked at you

“Want to see it first” you grinned as Lucy turned her phone to show you the picture she meant

“That's not a half nude... that's you in a sports bra and jersey shorts... you run around the pitch like this” you said bewildered

“I don't have anything else” your sister defended herself

“There's a bathroom...” you pointed to the door “Get to it”

“Dear god... I really feel sorry for everyone who picks dare after me” Lucy huffed but pushed herself up walking into the bathroom locking the door behind her.

A minute later she came back her face grumpy

“That was quick...” you smirked “Experience?”

“With quickies in Bathrooms? In fact.. yes is do” your sister smirked back while half the room gagged because at least half the team walked in on Lucy and Kei getting some somewhere

Lucys phone went off and she threw it to you to open the message from Mapí. It showed Alexia in conversation with Jenni as she quickly glanced at her phone (most likely at Lucys picture) and quickly panicky turned her phone looking around horrified. It was just perfect and you immediately forwarded the clip to your phone to have back up and blackmail material.

“God... just perfect” you laughed so hard that tears were running down your face

The game continued but relatively calmly since the newbies were still a bit star struck and the veteran players went easy on them. Not when it came to you tho. Rachel dared you to jump into the pool naked from the second floor (which was quickly shut down by Keira – safety reasons and Lucy and Georgia – privacy reasons) so you had compromised with doing a backflip from the edge of the pool wearing just your underwear (Lucys boxers and a sports bra). You turned your back on Kei getting her into a slight discussion with your sister after she chose truth and you asked who satisfy her more her ex or her current girlfriend. You laughed so hard at Lucys offended face after Keira answered with “Totally different” that you fell of the couch (again). Then it was Georgias turn and she smirked at you.

“Hey Babe” your girlfriend grinned at you “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth” you answered quickly since you didn't want to find out what she would have dared you to do

“Okay... if we were married” G started before getting interrupted by Lucy

“Which is a LONG way down the road” your sister grumbled

“If we were married... if I were to cheat on you... would you stay with me?” your girlfriend asked and half the group went with a impressed “Oooooh”

“Would I stay with you if you cheated on me?” you repeated her question faking thinking about it “Yeah... yeah I would stay with you”

“Really?” Georgia looked at you surprised

“Yeah... yeah I would really stay with you” you shrugged your shoulders

“You said that so fast” G said smiling lovingly

“Wait for it” Keira mumbled knowing you wouldn't just forgive something like cheating easily

“Yeah... cus we got married... we promised each other vows and stuff” you looked at her with a blank face “...in sickness and in health till death do us apart”

“Aw... I love you so much” your girlfriend basically swooned while some of the Lionesses in the room got a soft smile on their lips

“Yeah... I'd stay with you for the rest of your tragically VERY short lived life...” you kept going and your girlfriend got big eyes

“Huh? What?” she asked a little frightened undertone

“... that ended suddenly... quickly... randomly...” you started to smirk evilly your voice calm as the sea before a storm

“Why are you so scary?” Tooney now asked

“... without a trace... no one could find you” your smirk stayed on your face as you raised an eyebrow not breaking the eye contact with your girlfriend.

Everyone looked at you. The newbies looked at you scared, the crazy veterans like Millie and Rach impressed and Lucy of course had a proud smile on her face

“Still a Bronze” your sister said proudly “Good answer Bubs”

“My turn... LJ” you smirked darkly and Keira perked up “Truth or Dare”

So did your sister but for a different reason than Keira

“Ehrm... truth?” the dark skinned woman asked and you shook your head and she quickly changed her answer “DARE!!! I take the dare”

“I dare you to stay as far away from Lucy this camp as possible without interrupting your training or schedule” you grinned as Keira pinched your side

“I'll pass” LJ said now smirking smugly

“Okay... consider this your only warning” you smirked back

“Okay... Woah... calm down” Lucy interrupted your stare off “Can't you two just get along? You were such good friends when you were younger”

“Yeah... were... correct use of past tense” you said flatly still holding eye contact with LJ

“I said I was sorry” the black haired player said

“Yeah... sorry isn't cutting it this time” you shook your head as you pushed yourself up “Friends don't do that what you did” you said before you left the room

“Bitsy” you heard Keira called after you

“y/n” you heard G simultaneously as she quickly got up to go after you

“You stay here Stanway” Lucy got in her way

“Lucy I say that with the most respect I can muster up right now but get out of my way or I'll kick your bad knee” Georgia said calmly only thinking about you in the moment not even realizing that she just threatened your sister

“Calm her down... either I or Kei will find you two” Lucy said lowly before she stepped aside letting Georgia sprinting after you

“Okay... Spill LJ.. My sister doesn't get upset that easy... what was she talking about” Lucy turned around fixing Lauren with a glare

“Something between us” the young one shrugged her shoulders “I swear I sort it out Lucy”

“You better... because as much as I admire you as a player and also as a friend but she is my sister” Lucy warned before leaving the room searching for you and Georgia as Keira looked straight at LJ

“You won't be able to fix this... but I promised her I won't take any actions against you so you can call yourself so SO lucky... and thank God that she is the bigger person” the blonde said her tone lightly threatening as she was standing up leaving to

Neither nor Keira were able to find you which was very unusual as you normally stick to places where one of them two would find you for comfort. But not this time. After 45 Minutes and more recruited veterans and without a result Keira told Lucy to give up and since Georgia was missing too she was sure you were safe

“G will keep her save Lucy...” Keira said softly as your sister looked behind the plants down by the pool again

“It's just...” Lucy started looking so lost

“I know.. but she still needs you Luce... even if she has G now...” the blonde said softly understanding immediately what Lucy was trying to say

“Yeah... it's just so.. odd... one moment I hold her hands as she's taking her first steps next moment she has a girlfriend and is all grown up” your sister mumbled

“Oh Luce.... she's still that kid that needs to hold onto your hand but she also needs to experience life” Keira said sympathetically

“You'll text when you hear something from her or G yeah?” Lucy mumbled as she gave up looking for you

“Of course” Keira smiled as she squeezed Lucys shoulder lightly

“There you are” Keira said as Georgias finger flew up to her lips signalling the blonde to keep her voice down as you were fast asleep on top of your girlfriend your face pressed into her neck your right hand on top of her heart with an icepack laying on it

“What happened?” the older one whispered as she spotted the ice pack

“Found her in the staircase punching the wall... nearly got a shiner meself” Georgia said as she adjusted her hold on you pulling you closer

“Fuck... what a mess” Keira sighed as she sat down on the bed next to you stroking some loose hairs out of your face “You need to be there for her G... no matter how hard she tries to push you away you need to stand by her”

“I won't let go, Kei... never” your girlfriend whispered pulling you as close as physical possible.

“Good... because you will face a lot of pushback and on top of that you'll have Lucy breathing down your neck” the blonde said while she kept her eyes trained on you looking for just a simple tell that you feel uneasy but to her big surprise you were completely relaxed and calm “And you are good for her G.. don't listen to anyone who tells you differently”

“Thanks Kei... means a lot to have you on my side” your girlfriend mumbled and pressed a kiss to your forehead

“Just want the best for the two of you.. now act asleep I need a picture for Lucy that her baby sister is save and sound” the blonde smirked as she pulled out her phone.

Lucy was pacing in her room as Alessia just watched her

“Hey Lucy... is y/n okay?” the young player asked sadly

“Hm?” your sister looked up from her pacing noticing Less sad face “Yeah Less... she'll be alright... you know her”

“Good... I don't like to see her upset” the blonde huffed

“Me neither Less... me neither” your sister mumbled as she got the picture of G and you “sleeping” in their room “But she's going to be okay – she has picked a good one... if you ever tell G I said that I force Brussels sprouts down your throat” your sister immediately threatened Lessi as she started to smirk

“Ugh... not the little balls of hell” the blonde gagged

“Come on blondie... let's hit the hay... Sarina will have our asses tomorrow morning for y/n fooling her with the snacks and sweets” your sister grinned as she changed into her pjs

You woke up feeling absolutely exhausted glancing around the room. After a minute you realized Georgia right next to you snoring (not so) lightly her arm holding you securely to her side.

“Go back to sleep Bitsy” Keira mumbled

“How did you know I was up?” you whispered back

“Over the years I learned to listen to your sleep even when I sleep... your breathing changed” the blonde mumbled half asleep

“It didn't” you grumbled

“It did... you stopped snoring – and now go back to sleep... it's 3.30” Keira said knowing she only had a small window where she could get you back to sleep before you were too awake and started to get antsy

“But...” you whined

“Bitsy I love you but go back to sleep... enjoy the moments you have with your girlfriend because this probably will be the last time for this Camp that Lucy will let you stay over”

“Hm... okay” you yawned and snuggled back into Georgia who - despite being asleep – pulled you closer to her

#lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader #woso image #lucy bronze #georgia stanway x reader #mary earps x reader #lionesses x reader

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luvjunie · 1 year ago

Text

— when the dam breaks

contains: third person pov (42!miles’), no reader, feelings of anxiety, some harsh language, use of the n-word once, a one-sided fight, angst, mentions of grief, brief comfort at the end

summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748

a/n: this fic is based on one of my headcanons from this post,(the 12th one). handling the grief of losing a parent is one of the hardest, most painful things to navigate, especially when you’re a teen and in school. i can directly relate to miles!42 because of this, which is probably why i’m able to go so in depth with his character. i’m really proud of how this turned out so i hope you guys enjoy reading <3

The back of Ms. Bellam’s history class was Miles’ favorite spot to sit in. The seat by the window, specifically. Where he could gaze out with the fantasy of being anywhere else but stuck listening to the lecture in his fifth block; forced to hear his teacher rave on about some old expedition he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about.

But today, Miles was not in the back of the class.

He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda; a partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.

Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.

“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”

She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and drew two more names. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”

“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”

Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.

“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”

With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, snatched his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.

Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.

The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.

She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“

“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.

“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”

Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sitting in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.

Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”

A voice to his left behind him caught his attention, the voice in question belonging to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.

Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.

“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”

Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.

“Miles?”

He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.

“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”

Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?

Then, there was a laugh.

Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.

“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”

It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.

“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.

Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.

Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching Ethan’s.

“The fuck you just say?”

Ethan froze.

Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.

“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was always quiet as a mouse in her class, well behaved above all.

Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.

Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.

“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”

“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.

“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.

“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who’d just seen red.

“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.

Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.

Strike one.

Then, the boy playfully nudged his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just received wasn’t one that would be carried out.

Strike two.

“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.

“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.

Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.

Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.

He’d be sent straight to juvie.

“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”

Strike three.

Ms. Bellam was yelling now. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”

And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.

Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps as they quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.

One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it even if he’d jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist to Ethan’s jaw and knocked him to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.

“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You-!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”

Everyone was yelling at once, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.

Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.

“That’s enough!”

Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked him up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”

Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.

He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.

—

The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.

Out of school suspension. One week.

It was the best the administrative staff could do after Rio swallowed her pride and went as low as begging them not to expel her boy.

Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, Miles didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling, and at the moment he was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when he tried to talk.

“Mamá, I—“

“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”

Silence.

—

It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked; what he’d done playing over and over again in a continuous loop. The wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school was now just a few steps up.

Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy; desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it, as much of a nuisance as it may be, was being tolerated enough to stay on it’s finder’s heels.

He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now, but his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen, dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of his mother’s disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.

“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“

Dad.

And the dam broke. Though its foundation wasn’t very strong to begin with— Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.

Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten. The sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news immediately put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.

“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me. No te lo guardes, ¿recuerda?” (no holding it in, remember?)

Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.

“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?

“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.

“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“

Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own guilt.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.

“We’re going to be okay.”

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #earth 42 miles angst #miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles fanfic #miles morales angst #tagging x reader for reach #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv angst #miles morales fic

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kayhi808 · 2 months ago

Note

The ask about Abby getting ready for the dance and Bucky picking her up was so cute!!!

What is the dance like? Does she have the time of her life? Does her bully (was it Justin?) try to say something mean but Bucky steps up and talks to the dad? Do the teachers try to flirt with Bucky?

Please feel free to ignore!

Bucky and Abby walk into the classroom, hand in hand. "Dis my scoonroom." As they enter, Abby's teacher, Ms. Grace is there to greet them. "Abby. Mr. Barnes. Welcome!"

"Hi, Ms Grace!" Turning to Bucky, "Ms Grace is my favorite teacher."

Blushing, "That's so sweet, honey. Don't you look so pretty in that dress."

"My Mama buys it for me!" She swishes her hips to make the skirt sway. Ms. Grace leans down to stick a name tag on Abby's chest & when she starts to apply a sticker to Bucky's lapel, Abby starts hopping. "Oh, I gets it! I can do's it!" She holds her hand out for the sticker. "I can puts it on."

Not thinking anything, Ms Grace smiles and hands her the sticker. "You're such a good little helper. Thank you, Abby."

"You melcome!" Abby takes Bucky's hand and he kneels down so she can put his name tag on. "Dere you goes. What it says?"

Bucky looks down, " It says James Barnes."

Frowning "Who James?"

"I'm James."

"No, you not. Yous Bucky." Abby shakes her head & is ready to peel his sticker off.

He clasps her hand in his, "Only my friends can call me Bucky."

Abby's eyes go wide & her little jaw drops, " I's call you Bucky!" He smiles and nods.

*****

Soon, Abby is joined by her 2 best friends, Chloe and Mia along with their fathers. The fathers are welcoming to Bucky. This afternoon he wasn't some Avenger, he was a Girl Dad like the rest of them. As the classroom fills up, the group makes their way to the food table, making sure their girls have snacks and refreshments.

There are some single mother who accompany their daughters to the dance. A couple make their way over to Bucky. "Sergeant Barnes, we were so excited to hear you'd be attending."

Abby taps her chest, "He's my dates."

One forward mother, places her hand on Bucky's arm, leaning in to whisper, "You're like a celebrity."

Abby squeezes between them, "he not c'brity," dislodging the woman's hand. Abby holds his hand in 2 of her smaller ones.

In false sugary tones, "Oh, who is this?"

Abby points to her name tag, "It says Abigail."

"Oh Bucky, she's so precious."

"You need to go scoon. Cans you read? His name is James," says Abby, pointing to his sticker.

Bucky tries to hold back his laugh, "Very good, Abby. My name is James."

"She can't calls you Bucky. She not fwends."

Bucky scoops her up, "Excuse us ," and he takes her back to the table with her friends. Most of the time is spent with the dad's doting on the girls or them just watching the 3 girls play and interact.

After refreshments, music is played and the dancing begins. Bucky has already been a part of many after dinner Dance Parties so him and Abby have their routine down.

That one mother, positions herself close to Bucky. "You're such a good dancer." Bucky smiles & Abby jumps in, "Cos my Mama and him dance all the time. My Mama dance so goods."

"Maybe you can show me some moves," she flirts with Bucky.

"No, he cannot. He dancing wit me."

"I'm sure you don't mind sharing."

Shaking her head and glaring, "No tank you. I don't wike sharing wit you "

Bucky covers up his laugh with a cough. "Abby."

The woman gives Abby a tight smile, "Maybe the next dance."

"No. He cannot. We going home to Mama and you can't comes."

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22 @littleredwolff @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #abigail rose

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luveline · 2 years ago

Text

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

one | chapter list

Finding out you're a princess isn't half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can't seem to stop flirting with you.

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au (sort of), all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance james isn't flirty this chapter i lied but he will be <3

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You're in the process of ruining your pyjama bottoms with willow charcoal when your father dies.

The charcoal is fragile, unhoused, and it snaps with too much pressure. An uneven half rolls into the curve of your sketchbook and stains the work in progress it encounters indiscriminately.

You sigh without thinking, rubbing your tired eyes and spreading a line of smudgy black under your brow. Squinting, you peek at the portrait you'd been drawing in an unfounded rush. A young woman with deep, dark skin under the shade of the leaves of a sycamore tree. The branches arc over her in shadowed lines, sunlight dappling against her cheek in sparse triangles of white paper left uncoloured.

It had been an okay sketch. The snapped charcoal distracts from what you'd originally set out to do —a dynamic, revealing portrait— and ruins it, just like that.

You sigh again, this time with a melodrama you'd only ever feel comfortable displaying alone. Thankfully, that's the case more often than not. You live by yourself, no partner, no pets, nobody around to see you drop your sketchbook onto the floor beside your bed, kicking out your feet toward the rug with a pained, indulgent whine. Your socks slide against the hardwood. You kick them fruitlessly as you slip down the side of the bed, shirt caught behind you, exposing your soft middle.

You swear to yourself, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes.

A sharp trilling sound chimes from somewhere behind you. You come up for air. On the nightstand, your phone is vibrating hard, and the water in the glass next to it crests against the sides in teeny tiny shockwaves.

You pull it into your lap and stare at the number. It goes to voicemail, and then it rings again. Again, again, and again.

You consider turning it off. Five phone calls and counting indicates an emergency, but every cell in your being begs to avoid whatever it is on the other side. You hate phone calls out of the blue.

You can't avoid everything, no matter how much you want to. You answer the phone.

"Hello," you greet hesitantly.

The muffled echo of a cheerful voice responds.

"Yeah, that's me… Okay. Yeah, now is fine."

More chattering. Less cheerful, diplomatic.

"My father?" you ask.

You are told two impossible truths.

"Oh," you say. The walls spin. "Right."

—

"I hate flying," Sirius mutters.

James hums, noncommittal.

"You know, my good looks are completely wasted if we end up lost in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. I don’t fancy drowning.”

"It's not the middle of the Atlantic ocean," Remus says, sounding about as interested in Sirius' whining as James is internally. "It's an arm."

"It's the fucking English channel," James says. It's barely the ocean. "How much do you reckon a pair of in flight headphones will cost?"

Sirius, despite his anxiety, has the bandwidth to appreciate James' bad mood. "What crawled up your arse?" he asks.

James sinks down into his seat, knees immediately pressed into the hard plastic of the chair in front, back aching and head heavy from a lack of rest he won't make up anytime soon.

"He's agitated," Remus says.

"That’s helpful, Moony. Super helpful,” Sirius says.

"Fuck yourself, then." Remus pulls his sleep mask over his eyes and plugs in his earbuds.

The tannoy dings. The seatbelt light flashes.

A flight attendant raises his voice from the start of the aisle. "If everybody could take their seats and buckle in, we'll be taking off in less than two minutes. Please turn all electronics to aeroplane mode. Thanks so much."

"Is your phone off?" Sirius asks.

"No, I actually want us to drown in the channel, but thanks for asking."

A dark shock of curls brush against his shoulder as Sirius drapes himself unabashedly across James’ lap. Genovian through and through, Sirius makes a plight for affection wantonly, smelling ridiculously nice as he does: a heady smell like browned sugar and warm citrus tickles the inside of James' nose.

"Are you still cranky that you got demoted?" Sirius asks, smooth tones pitched into bubbly baby talk.

"I didn't get demoted," James argues, looking down at his friend with a frown.

James had, in fact, been demoted.

"No, of course not. You've fallen from Third Guard of the Royal Prince of Genovia, may he rest in peace, to glorified babysitter of said Prince's illegitimate, forgotten child. That sounds the same to me."

"Then we agree," James says, wanting to close his eyes. “The flight attendant is coming our way.”

Sirius sits up again and quickly clips into his seatbelt.

James would pretend to sleep if he thought Sirius would believe it, but growing up together erases any semblance of privacy. Sirius knows James as James knows Sirius, and as they know Remus. Remus likely knows them all better than he'd ever admit, the youngest of the trio and the smartest, most perceptive man James has ever met.

Sirius isn't perceptive for perception’s sake, he's vigilant. He can read even the smallest signs of unrest, and it makes him uneasy. While James is in a god awful mood, he reaches out to alleviate Sirius' anxiety.

"I'm fine," James assures him, "just tired." Not mad at you goes unsaid.

"It won't be as bad as you're thinking."

"I'm fine. I'm not worried. Didn't sleep last night, and," —he grins as Sirius clasps his arm, their seats shaking underneath them, the plane beginning its race across tarmac— "some scrawny git is squeezing fuck out of my arm."

Sirius edges away from him. "You're annoying."

James presses his shoe up to the side of Sirius' and leans back in his chair, wincing at the rattling carriage as they take off, and again when he remembers where they're going. You wait in London, though nobody in the task force assigned to your assimilation or the advisement team could come to explain how you'd ended up there. Your Genovian citizenship is unacknowledged on your passport, your birth certificate, even, and as far as Lily had been able to suss, you have little understanding of who you are.

"She sounded tired, mostly," Lily had said when pressed for details about the new princess' personality. "In shock. Slightly disbelieving, but could you believe it?"

Lily, James' friend, and work colleague at a stretch, is an ambassador for the UK and a full-time Genovian resident. Along with a handful of other representatives and officials, she’d been responsible for opening the talks between Genovia and yourself. That is to say, she'd broken the news.

Surprise! Your dad just died! Double surprise, you're a princess. And, no pressure or anything, but we kind of need you to come back to Genovia to maintain the royal lineage before your grandmother abdicates the throne (unwillingly, if things keep going the way they’re going).

"Did you mention the tiara?" he'd asked Lily. The Princess' diadem, a master craftsmanship of silver-gold with a diamond the size of an apple.

"Weirdly, Potter, I didn’t think to mention the jewellery."

He supposes there hadn't been time to weasel that tidbit in between condolences and recruitment.

You haven't promised anything in ways of returning to Genovia or taking up the mantle. James understands. If he were in your shoes, he likely would've laughed down the line and blocked the number. You’d shown incredible promise as a potential future leader, agreeing to meet with Lily and her team at the Genovian embassy. Then, a day later, they'd modified the plan and asked if you'd be okay meeting somewhere more private.

You'd said yes.

As someone who may be very involved in your bodily safety in the near future, James thinks you're an idiot. Somebody calls you, claiming that you're a princess, though nobody has ever bothered telling you this before because you were never heir apparent, and that they'll tell you more should you deign to meet with them in a place with meagre surveillance, and you say yes to this?

How you've survived as long as you have is a mystery.

He hopes you won't make his job difficult. Isn't that what everyone hopes? He feels guilty for judging you without meeting you, promising in his head to be nicer to you in actuality. You're probably grieving and definitely confused. He shouldn't be worrying about his job.

Redetermined, James lets the anxiety of his new assignment water down.

Sirius is thinking along the same lines: how easy will you make his particular occupation. "Bets are on. Scruffy or sweet?"

"Huh?" James asks, pretending he doesn't understand in hopes of rectifying Sirius' attitude.

"Slovenly or love-nly?"

"I'm sure she's fine."

"You should hope so, you'll be looking at the back of her head for a while."

James rolls his eyes.

"I'll manage, pretty or not."

His confidence draws Sirius' curiosity. "How're you so sure?" Sirius asks, chin-lifted, light eyes narrowed in bemusement. His expression dances with the surety of somebody well-raised. He could wear a potato sack and his regal air would endeavour, deep-seeded and neat like the trim stitching of his expensive clothes.

"Look at my face right now. Do I seem affected?"

Sirius laughs much too loudly at the implication. "Don't act like I'm not handsome, Prongs."

"Years of practice." James schools his features into an unaffected mask. "Uggos have no effect on me."

"How else would you look in the mirror?" Sirius drawls.

When Remus wakes afterward, he finds they haven't quite killed each other, though James has threatened it twice. With one hand, Black.

"Far are we?" he asks.

Sleep has made little difference to him. He’s the kind of fatigued today that can't be improved with an afternoon nap, and the kind of unwell that can't be fixed. He rolls his neck and makes three separate, unfortunate sounds, stretching his tight hands out over his thighs.

"Landing any minute now is my guess," Sirius answers. "How are you feeling?"

He waves his hand around, tired eyes locking onto James' lasting frown. "Sorry for leaving you alone with him."

Sirius gasps his indignation. The three of them all smile in tandem, James in a rush to add to the joke.

"You should be, I don't care how sick you are. You're sick in the mind if you think it's acceptable to-"

"You're sick for acting like I'm some misbehaved child you've been pandering to,” Sirius interrupts. “You're bullies, and as soon as we're in the airport I'm ditching you both in favour of a Great British Burger King."

"One," James says, still smiling widely, "I have your per diem, so unless you brought your wallet, you're sunk." Sirius frowns. "Two, I'd love it if you would repeat that little moniker you gave me before he woke up. Seriously. Shed some light on the real bully."

Sirius pulls his sunglasses from his jacket pocket and places them over the bridge of his nose. "Unnecessary."

"I wouldn't mind Burger King," Remus says.

"We have to be quick," James says.

Sirius is so incensed he actually spits a bit as he scathes, "You fuckers. I want food and it's lorded over my head, but Moony wants something and your only limitation is how fast he can eat it?"

He's not truly as angry as he appears. He's joking, and he's fallen into a familiarity that can only come with years of ragging on one another. Still, Remus pats his tight shoulder and smiles.

"I'm a slow chewer."

"He's a slow chewer, Sirius. Have some compassion."

“How fast could he chew missing a few teeth, I wonder?” Sirius asks.

James gasps, delighted at his friend's casual threat. Remus does a better job at hiding his amusement, tamping back a smile as he reaches over the armrest between their seats and slapping a hand into Sirius’ seatbelt. The mechanism unlatches, the ‘Fasten Your Seatbelts’ sign flashes, and a shaming beeping sound rings overhead.

Sirius squeaks.

—

What do you wear to meet a British ambassador? A Genovian ambassador? Any sort of diplomat? You aren't too sure what an ambassador even is, only that every word Lily Evans has said to you sounds shockingly official.

"Your citizenship has been reinstated whether you choose to move forward or not. We want to stress that you have choices," Lily says. Call me Lily, please. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"We also want to stress," says Emmeline, the Genovian ambassador, who’s priorities don’t seem to align with Lily’s much, "that your presence in Genovia is greatly desired. For the funeral."

"The funeral," you repeat.

"It will be a… very, very big event. We don't have to talk about all of the logistics now. Or ever, if you're not interested,” Lily says.

Emmeline clears her throat. "The family would appreciate it."

The family. The royal family. The Queen of Genovia, your grandmother, and her last remaining son, who’d given up his right to be king in order to marry a divorced woman (a scandal at the time). His daughter, Princess Julianna. The tabloids had had more than enough to say about her.

All this lineage and politics has been hard to navigate by yourself, though rest assured, you've been assigned two personal assistants of a sort. One for appearances of the physical, and one for appearances of the mind.

A stylist and a tutor.

"And a bodyguard," Lily says now, "your safety is the most important thing."

You grip the end of your dress in your hands and squeeze the skirts tightly.

"We actually want you to meet them today," Emmeline says.

"Whenever they show up," Lily adds. She sounds embarrassed but unsurprised, like this has happened before.

There's a small silence. You pull your bag into your lap, a ball of nerves, happier to hide behind it. You aren't sure what you're supposed to wear to occasions like this, so you'd worn the nicest thing you owned, a pretty, simplistic dress ruched under the chest, and a cardigan overtop.

You catch yourself frowning and quirk your lips up into a practised smile. Gentle, amicable, the kind you'd offer a passing stranger.

"Well," Lily says, filling the awkwardness, "I'm sure they'll come around soon. Maybe we should talk about inheritance."

"Legally, you're entitled to an inheritance. You could think of it like a pension, an allowance you'd be given from the age of eighteen. You've already passed that, and so you'll be given the years upto, and then the rest in annual increments," Emmeline says. "There's a team of people who can and will explain it better at a later date, or whenever you want to discuss it, once you've agreed to a paternity test."

"A paternity test?" you ask.

You feel rather useless. All you've done is ask for explanations since you sat down, your head a spinning mill. Information goes around and around with no time to sink in.

Emmeline opens her mouth to continue and is interrupted by three sharp knocks.

"Come in," Lily calls. She turns her gaze to you, orange hair moving over her shoulder in a silken sheet, her eyebrows raised in pity.

You don't know what it means.

First to enter the room is a modestly dressed and exceedingly tall man with straight, sandy hair. It's long enough to peek out from under his ears, where it curls gently. He steps into the light, illuminating a shock of shiny scars clawed over the bridge of his nose and teasing up into one thick eyebrow.

"Sorry," he says, not quietly but certainly not loudly. "We had trouble finding the room."

Behind him immediately stands a man with dark hair to his shoulders, white but tanned. He wears slacks, in which a shirt has been tucked on one side and not the other, a purposeful dishevelment.

"And the building," adds the second.

Last to enter is the biggest of the three. You'd hazard a guess that he's six foot or taller, not the tallest of his companions but the most imposing, with a monotone outfit of pristine blacks that he fills too well, his shirt clinging to the muscle underneath it. His skin is a warm brown that soaks up the big light overhead and shines golden, his hair black and thick, laying in mussed ringlets stroked back from his face.

He is the most handsome person you've ever seen in real life. It startles you. Worse, when he meets your eyes.

You smile carefully. He smiles back.

Lily stands to gesture toward each man in turn. The first, "Remus Lupin," she says, "your tutor on all things Genovia." The second, "Sirius Black, stylist and your guide on media presence."

The third.

"James Potter," Lily says, not looking at him. "Bodyguard. James will be sticking closely with you for the foreseeable future, even if you decide on– Well. You should get to know one another, at any rate." You must wear your worries on your face, as she continues, "You're in safe hands. James was third in command in the protection of His Highness."

“May he rest in peace,” Emmeline adds.

You look between all these new strangers apprehensively. "Hello," you manage.

Sirius' eyes widen in tandem with his smile. "Hello."

"It's nice to meet you. We're sorry for your loss," Remus says.

"No," you say, head tilting toward your shoulder as you frown at James sympathetically, "I should be sorry, you actually knew him. I can't imagine how this feels for you."

"Thank you, but don't be," James says. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Princess."

You look to Emmeline, almost like you're waiting for her to correct him.

She smiles at you hopefully. "Shall we talk arrangements for your departure?"

—

James is trying not to look at you too much, though if he is he can write it off as purely protective. You're sitting in your seat on the bus like you're worried about touching a seat mate who doesn't exist, arms wrapped around your middle and face pointed to the floor. He wonders if you have a thing about germs.

"I'll rent a car," he says, tightening his hand where he holds the pole beside you.

You curl into yourself a little more. "What for?"

"It's much safer."

"I don't want you to– I mean, you aren't a chauffeur."

"I'm not." He bends at the knees to speak directly to you. "There are seven other people on this bus. One is elderly. Three are younger than sixteen. All seven could potentially harm you."

You look to the left without turning your head, toward the sound of young laughter. He'd bet money on your thoughts. Even the children?

"The driver could have an aneurysm. He could be paid off. He could be carrying a concealed weapon." James smiles at you placatingly. "Understand? If I drive, the potential danger goes down to one."

"Me?"

"No, me." He tries very hard not to wink and look like a dickhead. "But I'm not going to hurt you. Not really my prerogative."

"Oh, good."

James recalls what Lily had said, rightfully: you and James will be in each other's company for the foreseeable future, and while he has a job to do, there's room for friendliness.

He splits his attention between you and the front of the bus, where a small family carts a pushchair.

"What do you do?" he asks.

You don’t have children, or any family at all. He’s read your file three times over. He knows you attend classes for a degree equivalent at your local college. He knows you're a waitress. He knows you moved to central London when you were very young, and that your estranged mother had been the cause of all this confusion. He asks you because he wants to know how you'll frame it. In your own eyes, what is your life?

"I'm a waitress."

He nods. "Local?"

"Yeah, at a pub. The Morgan."

"You have a shift today?"

"Not today. I took the day off." You stand up and click the STOP call button on the rail James is holding. Your arm brushes against his. "It's this stop."

James lets you pass and then trails behind you, off of the bus and straight into a busy street.

"How far is it to your house?" he asks, loud to be heard over the hubbub and the roadworks.

"Not long. Are you okay to walk?"

James finds himself oddly charmed by your question. "I'm just fine."

You squeeze through the pavements lining the street, folded in, keeping your arms close, and you apologise every time you touch someone, even if it's the other person's fault. The school rush, it must be. James keeps close to your back, moving to your side when he worries you might sprain your neck trying to check that he’s following. He has some height on you, which is a good thing for security purposes —he can see uninterrupted over the top of your head.

The day is cool, the last dregs of an end-of-summer heat lingering in the air. James wonders if you're too warm, dressed as you are in tights, but the thought fades when you trip.

He grabs the top of your arm, fingers sliding between your arm and your chest. Closer than he wants to be, crueller than he means to be as he keeps you steady. To his surprise, you laugh. A really nice sound, sudden but sweet.

"Sorry, Princess," he says.

"You saved me," you say, a hint of breathlessness in your tone. "Thank you. My flat's in the next building over."

"Brilliant." His bag is fucking heavy, a weight between his shoulders that aches when he lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as it begins a heavy descent downward. You've got a long, long night ahead of doing nothing. "What's your address?"

You tell it to him. "Why?"

"For the rest of your security detail."

He slows as you come to the main door of your building. It's quieter here, the loudest sounds a symphony of barking dogs, car engines revving, and the jangle of your keys as you unlock the door and bump it with your hip.

"More people?" you ask. "Is that really necessary?"

"Do you always do that?"

"It gets stuck," you explain.

He hums. "It's necessary. The media's been encouraged, or paid handsomely, to keep our operation to themselves for now, but there's always pressure to be the first to break a story."

"And I'm the story?" you ask, nodding toward the stairs in the centre of the room.

He steps over a bundle of scattered letters. The building is mostly clean, but mail bulges from cubbies, and an old mattress has been left propped against a wall.

"You're the story," he says, head up to analyse the atrium. There's a skylight spotted with green moss above.

You climb the stairs to the first floor. Your flat is the first door. That increases your risk of a break in, rapists or robbers. He asks you to wait at the door while he clears each room, knowing it's an unnecessary precaution but taking it anyway. It's not worth saving the half a minute it costs on the off-chance it’s been infiltrated.

He snorts at his own train of thought, returning to you as you slide a special locking mechanism between the door latch and the frame. You shake the lock.

"Did you get that recently?"

You look up at him and smile. "Since I moved in. I'm first on the floor. Don't want to get murdered in my sleep."

"Smart girl," he says absentmindedly, crossing the room to secure your window.

He moves into your room again and secures the larger window over your bed. Then, because he's awful and curious, he catalogues your things.

"You're an artist," he says, head listed toward the doorway.

You stop by the dresser, hastily stuffing clothes left aside back into the top drawer. "Not– not really."

The room is a crammed collection of things. It's clear you've attempted to keep it clean. You were doomed to fail, an outpouring of your heart stuffed into a matchbox; books, sketchbooks, notebooks all stacked against the leftmost wall between your bed and your dresser, while paints and pencils take up two thirds of your desk. A small sketchbook rests closed in the mess of your unmade bed, dark sheets disrupted by a pair of white pyjamas discarded at the end. Soot or something similar stains the fabric.

He averts his gaze from your dirty hamper and faces you.

"At eight, one of my team will swap duty with me. His name is Frank and I've worked with him before, but if you aren't comfortable with anything he does while I'm not working, you can tell me. If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, you can tell Lily. You can tell me, of course," he amends. "I can take the sofa.”

"You sleep at eight?"

"I sleep at ten."

"You don't mind sleeping on the sofa?"

"Not at all."

You walk to your dresser and pull open the bottom drawer. Inside is a layer of linens, and you take them out neatly.

"You don't have to, uh, put on a show for me," you say with a wince.

"Sorry?"

"I'm not a princess. I'm not the princess."

"You don't think so?"

You look sweet, kneeling on the floor, hair in disarray from the walk home. You move it out of your face and offer a folded square to him with both hands.

"It's a misunderstanding. But…" You take a pillowcase into your hand and stand up, closing the drawer with your ankle. "Even if I were, I don't think you need to be so formal, you know?"

You move past him in a wave of nice smells.

"It's my job."

Again, you surprise him by laughing, climbing on top of your unmade sheets to grab one of your pillows. "Right," you say, stripping it of its pillowcase and shaking it into a new one. The tip of your tongue makes a brief appearance as you plump up the corners.

You climb off of the bed. "Here," you say, taking the sheet he's holding to press the pillow into his hands.

"Oh," he says, looking down at the pillowcase. It's covered in small pink flowers. "I don't need this."

"My settee isn't comfortable."

"Half of my job is being able to sleep anywhere."

You smile at him. His words don't discourage you, and he stands in the doorway between your bedroom and your living room as you lay down an old quilt over the sofa and tuck a sheet around it and under the cushions.

"I know it's strange, but you could take my bed, if you wanted to. You're so tall, I don't think–”

James cuts you off, not unkindly. "Thank you, but I couldn't." He lets the side of his chest rest against the doorway, arms crossed. Your back is straight, tense with anxiety. "I have something for you."

You blink at him. "For me?"

He grins, his first proper smile all day, and pulls his bag onto the freshly made settee to unzip the front compartment. He pulls out a small jewellery box, pulling the lid off to hold between his arm and chest.

The tennis bracelet inside is thin but strong, made up of gold-silver links with sapphire-coloured gemstone. He assumes them to be real sapphire or something similar, like blue-hued ruby.

"This is a panic button."

You seem more anxious than when he'd pulled out the box.

"Don't worry about losing it. I'm sure the Genovian coffers will recover."

"It's not that. Do you think it will fit?" you ask.

He hadn't thought about it. Luckily, Mary had.

"There are spare links hidden under the velvet."

James puts the box on your coffee table and clicks the links into place, handling the bracelet with less care than he ought to. Firmly snapped into place, he offers the lengthened bracelet to you unlatched.

"Here," he says, pointing toward one link in particular. "If you squeeze this tightly, the heat sensor will alert me."

"It won't feel the heat of my wrist?"

"It will. It's sophisticated, it'll disregard anything that isn't a sudden spike. That's your panic button. You squeeze that–" He pinches it in demonstration. The small radio clipped discreetly to his shoulder starts to beep, a circling alarm. He removes his fingers from the bracelet and it stops. "Okay?"

"I haven't even passed the paternity test yet."

"My being here indicates that you're of special interest. We don't know if you're the princess for certain, and neither do the newspapers, but you could still be in danger either way."

You press your lips together and hold out your wrist.

James steps closer to you, enough to see details and lines he's missed. The longer he stays in your company, the more endeared he is to your shy smile, and your quiet kindness. You’re like Remus.

Either side of your wrist glows with heat as he drapes the bracelet over your skin and clicks it closed, wary of pinching you. The room is quiet. The clock over your small kitchen table ticks.

"There," James murmurs, taking back his hands.

"Thank you."

He disregards it completely. "No worries."

His informality gets you, and you smile your first proper smile since you'd been introduced.

By the time Frank arrives for turnover, James is confident that his assignment to your protection won't be nearly as awful as he'd thought. You'd insisted on making him something to eat, which he'd been sincerely grateful for as a man can't run on Burger King alone, and then you'd practically showered him in an awkward but entirely genuine hospitality, offering your bathroom and all its contents, every blanket you owned, the TV remote, and a tin of biscuits.

He introduces you to Frank, and for an hour you make yourself busy in the kitchen, cleaning dishes you'd refused his help with and wiping down the counters.

He senses your unease at being outnumbered in your own home. Unfortunately, there isn't much he can do to make you feel better, besides appoint Frank to door duty and try to offer some words of comfort.

James tries not to look as imposing as he feels, clearing his throat to draw your attention as you leave the kitchenette.

"Listen," he says softly, a mirror of you now that you're both changed into lounge clothes and damp-haired from the shower, "I want to reassure you— I'm here to protect you from any and every threat. I know this is unconventional, but I promise to do my best to make this easy for you."

You look down at your trainer socks. "Sorry."

"Can you do me a favour?"

"Yeah, of course," you say, raising your chin.

"No more apologies. This is hard, and I know that, you don't have to say sorry for anything. I'll promise you whatever you need me to if that will make you feel more comfortable."

Princess or not, you're confused, and you're unhappy in your own home. James wouldn't want that for anybody.

"Do you think someone's going to… kill me?" you ask. “Just, that’s the danger, right?”

James softens. "No. Nobody is going to kill you." His smile melds slowly to mischief, eyelashes kissing in the corners of his eyes as he squints. "I'm a frankly fantastic bodyguard, okay? Don't doubt my skills. And Frank's alright."

You laugh under your breath, relieved. "I'm not doubting your skills."

"Good. I'm not just a pretty face, Princess."

You sober at the title. The flicker of camaraderie between you fizzles, and you shake it off.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

He hopes that in a month, or a year, when you're living the high life in Genovia with a hundred serfs and lavish goods beyond your wildest dreams, you'll keep your earnest smile, and your nice heart. He's seen exactly what royal status and money can do to young women. The last thing anyone needs is another Julianna.

"No," he says, matching your volume, "nothing."

"Okay. You can wake me if you need anything."

He absolutely won't. "Thank you... Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

You disappear behind your bedroom door. James lays down over the small sofa, alarm set for a dry-eyed 4:30AM, and listens to your flat as it cools. You close the blinds, sharpen a pencil, and for a period of time, he's lulled by the mild shushing of a pencil over paper.

He falls asleep. He must. A silence settles, thick and uninterrupted as poured molasses.

A splintering crash pulls him back to consciousness, and every nerve-ending sings as a weight falls to the floor. A thump sounds from behind your closed door. James practically leaps over the settee's arm to your door, Frank hot on his heels.

He throws open the door, braced for impact, but you aren't anywhere to be seen.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thanks for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this first part, and if you did and you have the time please consider reblogging, it makes a difference! plus i'd love to know what u think or what you'd love to see in future<3

the fics title is adapted from a line in piedra del sol by octavio paz

#james potter fic #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #the marauders x reader #the marauders fanfic #james potter x fem!reader

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moonstruckme · 4 months ago

Note

hello lovely!

i recently just started to work out a bit more than i used to and i am humbled. i tried to go to the gym but it’s terrifying, so i just did a home workout from a youtube video and like i said before, humbled.

could we get james x reader doing the video with her and he’s very good at all the workouts but encouraging her.

could we get remus x reader doing the video together and they both suck but support eachother

Thanks for requesting <3

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 793 words

“Okay team,” the woman on your TV says peppily, “taking things at your own pace, just ease into plank position.”

“Ease?” Remus pants incredulously. “There’s nothing easy about this.”

You huff a laugh, but even that tiny movement is almost enough to make your abs give out and collapse you onto your mat. You try to re-solidify, feeling a dribble of sweat roll down your back.

“Are you breathing deeply?” you tease. It’s a reiteration of what your virtual instructor has been telling you relentlessly since the video started.

Remus takes a strained inhale. “I don’t see where she finds the time.”

“Amazing!” your tormentor chirps. She tilts her head up to make eye contact through the screen, looking gloriously glowy with exhilaration whereas you feel slick as a dolphin. At least it’s some consolation that Remus seems as sweaty as you are, and you don’t hate that the exertion made him discard his shirt some time ago. His bare torso is a nice distraction from the ache that’s permeating your body. “Now we’re going to kick it up a notch.”

You and Remus both make distressed grunting sounds. She still hasn’t let you out of your plank.

“In twenty more seconds, we’re going to go into a push-up, touching our chests to the mat, then hop our feet up for a squat.” You feel your eyes widen as you watch her demonstrate. Your legs are already burning in anticipation. “Then, jump up and do a clap! Ready? You’ve got this!”

“Oh, fuck that,” your boyfriend sighs. He lets his elbows drop out from under him, slumping onto his stomach.

You look over at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking things at my own pace.” Remus groans as he rolls over and sits up, grabbing his water bottle from the coffee table. It’s shoved to the side to make room for your workout. “Have a break with me, dove. She seems like she can handle this part on her own.”

You sit back on your knees, lungs and muscles aching with relief. “Pretty sure that’s not the point,” you pant, but take the water bottle he offers you anyway. You take long, gulping sips of the cold water, so desperate that you have to gasp embarrassingly for air afterwards. You wipe a drip off your chin. “You’re such an enabler.”

“Yeah,” Remus agrees placidly. He rolls his neck to the side, and you wince when it clicks. “I’m not feeling too bad about that right now. This is inhumane.”

You heave a sigh, leaning back on one hand and fanning yourself with the other. “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m doing this. It can’t continue.”

He chuckles quietly. “I’m not a fan of the exercise either, but I wouldn’t say it’s all bad.”

You turn to look at him questioningly—wasn’t he on your side with this?—and find your boyfriend’s gaze warm and appreciative, skimming lazily over the exposed stretch of skin where you’re fanning yourself. His bottom lip curls slightly.

You give him a dubious look. “Rem, you’re endlessly sweet to me, but I know this isn’t cute. I’m, like—” you make a face “—damp.”

“Maybe I like you a bit damp.” Remus shrugs insouciantly. “I think I’m discovering some things about myself.”

You fold forward with a groan, stretching your back and hiding your smile near the mat. “You’re such a liar.”

There’s an amused huff of air, and then a kiss lands softly on the back of your shoulder. “You can think that if you want,” he says. “I have some bad news for you, though. You do have to keep doing this at least a while longer.”

You let out a whine. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to have James take you to his gym next week, and I did. You know he won’t let you off the hook.”

“Oh, my god,” you moan, pulling your knees up so you can rest your head on them miserably. “Why was I so hellbent on torturing myself earlier this week?”

Remus hums sympathetically. “I think you had good intentions.”

“Ugh, okay.” You straighten, looking back at the video and trying to re-orient yourself in what the instructor is doing. “I have to keep going if I’m going to be even remotely prepared for what James is going to subject me to. Come on, do this with me.”

Remus makes a surprised sound of protest. “Why do I have to do it?”

“Because you’re the one that’s friends with the sadist who’s going to torment me next week. Please, Remus.” “Fine, fine.” Remus rolls his eyes, lovesick even when he’s pretending not to be, and stands with you. “But just this once, and then I’m turning you over to Jamie.”

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jamessluttythighs · 4 months ago

Text

I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you - jegulus - 332 words

It had been the longest summer of Regulus’ life. No matter how many muggle boys he kissed. No matter how many times he tried to wank his feelings away. No matter how many poems he burned. Nothing could make him get over Potter.

The screeches of owls and excitable chatter filled the air. Platform 9 and 3/4 was packed. First years squirmed away from their mother’s kisses and final years gathered in groups sharing nostalgic memories.

Regulus scanned the crowd meticulously. They should be here by now, he thought. As if on cue, he caught a glimpse of a face that mirrored his own - if not for the longer hair and ridiculous eyeliner. Wherever Sirius was, James was not far behind. There he was, hauling his trunk behind him and a liquorice wand dangling from his mouth.

Regulus’ breath hitched. Oh how he missed that face. James’ dark, messy hair caught the morning sunlight in the best way. His gold-framed glasses perched on his perfect nose. The head-boy pin glinted on his robes. His trousers sat slightly above his ankles, the years of use on display - too little time left to make buying new ones worth it. Oh and those thighs. Regulus’ quickly banished the impure thoughts forming in his mind.

Hopping off the train, having secured their compartment (second one in the fourth carriage - Regulus had it memorised) James ran back to plant a kiss on his mother’s cheek. Regulus smiled at the warm gesture and fond expression that the woman looked at her son with. He barely realised the boy turning and walking in his direction.

With the grace of an ostrich, Regulus stumbled behind a particularly large pile of luggage in the hopes to watch James walk past without being noticed.

“Hey Reggie, good summer?” Potter winked at him. That stupid grin, that made Regulus melt into a puddle, plastered on his face. Regulus’ stomach did a somersault as his cheeks burned. So much for getting over him.

#dead gay wizards #marauders #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #the marauders #starchaser #sunseeker #jamessluttythighs400

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

Leader of the Pack 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: On a night out at the bar, you're promoted from wing woman to main star.

Characters: James Conrad, short!reader

Note: it’s hump dayyyy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"Go grab us a pool table," Martyna demands as she leans on the bar.

"Oh, sure," you turn to search the bar. There's only one table and it's taken. You frown. "Someone's already on it."

"So what? Go put a stack of quarters on it," she says, "I can't. I gotta get my drink."

"Right, er," you teeter on your feet and look back at the table, one man lining up his shot as the other watches, his thick hands around his cue.

The shooter snaps the stick and the clack of balls is sharp and strong. You near nervously, pulling out change as you keep just outside their perimeter as the second man considers his turn with a suck of his teeth. Where he's burly, with a shaggy dark beard, and faded ball cap, the other man has blonde hair and is lithe. They are both tall, though the slimmer man has at least an inch on the other.

You step forward as the man aims from the other corner. You set down four quarters in a stack, just enough to feed the table for another round. The thicker man pauses as he pulls back the cue and narrows his eyes.

"Eh, you're gonna mess me up," he barks.

"Oh, sorry," you recoil and fold your hands over your chest, "I was only..."

You quiet as he grumbles and shakes his head, eyes pinpointing on the felt. You shake your head and back up as the other man tisks.

"Syverson, don't have to be so rude, the lady is merely claiming her turn," the slender man intones, just a foot from you as he twirls the cue, it's butt set to the floor. "Don't fret over my companion," he girds in his peculiar accent, "he's a sore loser."

"Heh, what's that about..." the other man hits the cue ball and sends a striped one into the pocket, "losing?"

You're quiet, nodding as you try to think of the proper response. No one's ever called you a lady. Most people don't notice you. It's why Martyna prefers you as her wing woman, you keep her company until she finds someone fun.

"Rather, you set me up finely," the first man retorts.

You cross your arms protectively and back up, making sure you're out of the broader man as he stalks around to place his next shot. His friend watches calmly, unbothered as he knocks another ball in, then lines up for the third. That one's a miss.

"Shit," the man in the ball cap stands straight and sends you a look. You're not even close to the trim.

"Oh, don't even try to blame her," the blond reprimands, "that's not very valiant, is it?"

"Whatever," the other grumbles as he plants his feet and watches the other.

The slimmer man puts his first shot easily in the corner, the next he sends two balls into opposite pockets, and the next sees him with only the eight ball left to sink. His opponent huffs and shakes his head. You rock back and forth, you hope he wins if only to clear the table.

"Finally," Martyna nudges you as she comes up beside you, "they didn't have Corona, you believe that?"

"Oh, that's crummy," you say, watching the mam measure his shot.

"Mmph, I know you don't give a crap," she scoffs, "why didn't you grab a ginger ale?"

"I'm fine, just had that iced coffee," you shrug.

She hums again. She knows you don't drink, that this isn't your scene, that you're not exactly a social butterfly, so why does she act so disappointed. She invited you. It's always her idea, never yours. You just go along, otherwise you'd have nothing to do and no friends.

"Kinda cute," she leans over to whisper, "look at his shoulders..."

You lower your brow as your cheeks burn. You hadn't really thought of that. Then, you wonder, which one she's talking about. They both have nice shoulders and muscular arms.

They're strangers! You shouldn't think of that. You uncross your arms and once more clasp your hands together.

The man finally shoots, calling left pocket. He calls it true. The ball rolls in and his buddy sighs and swears.

"Nice," Martyna pops her lips off her bottle of flavoured vodka, "our turn."

She steps and grabs the quarters. The bearded man tilts his head at her and fixes his camouflage cap. His cheek dimples as the other man rounds the table and pats his shoulder, "better luck next time, chap."

"Isn't luck," the burly one utters and rolls his eyes, "hustler..."

"And yet you keep falling for it," the other snickers, "come on, I'll buy you a celebratory pint, eh?" The blond turns and strides toward you. "Miss, you're up."

He offers the cue and your lashes flick. You couldn't see his eyes before. They're so blue. You gulp and accept the wooden stick.

"Thank you," you squeak.

Martyna chuckles and grabs the triangle frame from the slot and sets it out. The blond leads away his second, the man with the beard sending a glance at Martyna as she loads the quarters to release the balls. You wait for her to set up, standing back with the cue in hand. You can still feel the warmth of its previous holder's grip.

Martyna swigs from her bottle and sets it back on the trim. She fluffs her black curls and makes a pouty face. She's not doing that for you.

You glance behind her, those men are watching. The blond nods cordially and returns his attention to the bar. The beard one continues to leer in Martyna's direction. You spin back.

"You wanna break?" You ask.

"Sure, whatevs," she turns to the table.

You wait patiently as she scatters the balls. She sinks two solids. She's always been better at this than you. You don't mind losing. It doesn't make much of a difference.

She sinks two more before your turn comes. You regret not grabbing a soda as you mouth grows dry. Martyna is sure to loudly tell you about this guy she works with and how much he wants her. You just humour her with smiles and mhmms. It isn't you she wants to hear her. You know her tricks.

You sink a stripe, then a solid. Back to Martyna. You aren't very good at the game. Your arm's are too short. Maybe if you could get on the table you'd have a chance but that's not proper.

She narrows the solids down to two plus the eight ball. You try your hand again. Scratch. But she misses her shot and you get another go. You sink two before you're done. Still, you're behind.

She empties her bottle, a dramatic gulp that extends her whole body. She outshines you in all aspects; her hair, her looks, her height, her clothes...

She wiggles her but as she bends to clean up. One ball, then two, then she lines up for the final blow. The eight. She calls the corner. She bounces it easily into the pocket and squees and hops, her shirt doing little to contain her amped up excitement.

You lean the cue against your arm and give a clap, "good job, Mart," you say. Genuinely. It was fun enough.

"Aw, you did good," she preens, "how about a rematch? Got any more change?"

"Ahem," a voice interrupts as you grab your purse. The jangle of change comes from behind you and a shadow steps forward, "perhaps you might want to make it interesting? Fancy a round of pairs?"

You glance over at the man with blond hair and lilted accent. Well, you look at his sleeve and follow it up. His profile is well-forged. If you had a type, he might be it. You never considered many men, they never considered you either.

"Pairs?" Martyna toys with proposal coyly and eyes the bearded man as he comes up beside his friend, "I guess it makes sense. But girls vs boys?"

"No fun," the blond agrees, "we might mix it up, eh?" He grins, "James," he touches his chest, "this is--"

"Sy," the other man, who you called Syverson, speaks up, "ladies."

"Martyna," your friend rolls out.

You offer your name in a pitchy stammer. You already feel like the odd one out. The tension is thick enough to choke you.

"Sy, fetch us some cues," James demands, "I'll claim a partner," he looks over at you, "do you mind?"

"Oh, er, yeah, but um, I'm not very good," you say, certain he must have been able to see as much from across the room.

"I'm certain we'll work fabulously together," he assures.

"Here," Sy returns with two sticks, nearly jabbing the James with the spare.

You cling to your cue and fidget. You have no idea what to do now. Someone has to begin.

"I'll break," Sy insists.

"Of course, loser's first," James quips.

He gets an arch of the thick brow in return before Sy bends to aim between two fingers. You dig your nail into the wood of the cue in your hand. James sidles closer, crowding you as you catch a hint of something citrus.

Sy bends and pulls back the cue. He hits the ball and sends it zooming fast enough to crack the triangle on the other end. The stripes and solids scatter, bouncing all around. James chuckles and leans towards you.

“You’ll see he’s about strength, he doesn’t realise the significance of precision,” he intones, “I can show you. It isn’t about how hard you hit but the exact angle,” he tilts his hand to demonstrate as the balls still but non fall into the pockets. “Ladies first.”

You don’t move right away. At first, you don’t get his meaning. You lift the cue and approach the table. You look around. It’s your choice; stripes or solids. Whatever you can get, as usual.

That number four is hovering right at the side pocket. It’s an easy score. You’ll take it.

You position yourself, overly aware of your audience. It feels like the whole bare is watching. You blow out your breath and set your sights. You pull back and snap forward. The cue ball wobbles in its path but hits true, knocking the four into the hole.

It isn’t exactly precise. You stand straight and let out and oomph as your back meets an unexpected wall. James brings his arms up and puts his hands around yours. His proximity is suffocating.

“You’ve got an easy in on the five,” he advises, guiding you to bend with him as he directs your stick. “Loose,” he wiggles your front hand and squeezes your back hand. “Keep it like this, not too high.”

He holds you like that for a moment then draws back. He steps to the side and crosses his arms. You focus on the ball, your skin speckling with heat. His scent lingers, perhaps a touch of orange in his cologne. You keep your hold loose and grip tight the butt of the cue. You shoot and the white ball clacks off the red solid, sending it neatly into the corner.

Martyna giggles and you look up. She’s not laughing at you. Sy is muttering something to her. You blink and stands straight, glancing over at James. You understand what this is but you’re the placeholder, the wing woman, you just keep the friend busy while she has her fun. You know how this ends.

“You’ve got another go,” James says.

You nod dumbly and face the table again. You search for your best hope and shift around to the other side. You nearly cross your eyes in your efforts to bounce the ball from one wall into the opposite pocket. You just miss. You cringe and back away.

Your gaze meets James’ as you find him watching you still. Martyna moves to line up her shot, giggling over her shoulder as she does. As you edge away from her, that man’s eyes follow you. They’re so blue. So, intense.

You look at the tip of the cue and tap your thumb to the side. You’re in your head. He’s not really staring. When you peek up again, he hasn’t looked away. Not even as you hear the balls hit. He winks and your chest pounds in disbelief.

This can’t be real.

#james conrad #kong: skull island #dark james conrad #dark!james conrad #james conrad x reader #fic #dark fic #leader of the pack #dark!fic #series

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 11 months ago

Text

He’s mine || Billy the kid x oc!reader

Summary: Mrs Riley’s affection for Billy does not go unnoticed by you, or anyone for that matter. There was hardly competition because unlike her, you weren’t married and sworn to another man, but Mrs. Riley just needed a little push over the edge and she would be done for. What you didn't expect however, was that you would be there at the scene of her downfall.

Warnings: slightly dark oc! mention of blood, shooting, oc sorta manipulates Billy, possessiveness, guilt trapping, violence, mention of dead body

Wc: 4,712 this is a loooong one, longest one ive ever written lol.

A/n: Sofía does not back down when it comes to getting what she wants is all I gotta say 😃 also it's sorta long because I'm basically retelling some of the scenes from the btk episode but with sofia in it so..

Divider by @pommecita

In Mr. Murphy's sprawling house, the air buzzed with animated conversations, and the linger familiar scent of alcohol and smoke added to the vibrant atmosphere. You and Billy navigated the lively gathering, your hand on Billy's arm.

"There he is," A voice murmurs softy, pulling your attention away from Billy. "Billy! Come here." John Riley, Murphy's right hand man, beckoned him over for a chat. You could sense the hesitation within Billy but Mr. Riley persists. "I would like to introduce you to my wife," He rests his hand on the woman's waist. She looked no more than 3 years older than you, her hair elegantly arranged in a bun as she showcases her pearly white smile.

"Honey, this is the fella I was telling you about, this is Billy the Kid," Because of how tall Billy was compared to majority of the people here, Both Mr. and Mrs. Riley had to gaze up at him. "Billy belongs to The House now. This is Irene," John gestures to his wife.

Watching the entire ordeal by his side, you saw a glint of desire in Irene's eyes. "Howdy," Billy tips his hat nonchalantly, sporting a bored expression as Irene extends her hand out for a shake. Your gaze drifts around the room, noticing eyes already fixed on you as your hands delicately squeeze Billy's arm.

"So, you're a cowboy, are you?" She grins broadly, the smile stretching from ear to ear, her hand lingering on Billy's just a beat longer than deemed necessary for a married woman with high status like her. "Oh, he's an outlaw, baby," Mr. Riley corrects his wife with a sly smile. Leaning in, he murmurs into her ear, "This man's wanted for murder."

Irene subtly inches closer to Billy, her voice gentle and soft, "Well, it sure is nice to meet such a handsome outlaw." Her eyes carefully trace his features as Billy, feeing a tad bit awkward, manages a brief, but tentative smile, then glances towards Mr. Riley. "Billy," He bids him goodbye, tension already simmering, and he draws Irene along with him, her gaze remaining fixed on him.

"I don't like her," You assert boldly as Billy smiles, he loved it when you were up front with him. He turns to face you, his hand gently on your waist while the other finds its place at the base of your neck. "Me neither, sweetheart. She looks like trouble, and I don't want that," He reassures you, affirming his unwavering loyalty.

"Hey Billy," James Dolan interrupts his conversation with Jesse. "Uh, we've, uh, set up a little fun thing for you to do," he says, fixing an intense gaze on Billy. You set your glass down, and Jesse glances at you. "See, everyone here, they want to see what you can do with a gun, hmm?"

At the mere mention of guns, Billy's gaze shifts to the floor, and he leans back on the table behind him. "They've all heard the stories." Jesse uncomfortable shifts as you observe Dolan, "Murphy thinks it would be a great idea for you to give 'em all a little- you know- demonstration." He playfully slaps Billy's chest.

"Yeah? No." Billy says flatly, turning to leave before James firmly grips his arm "Okay, okay, Billy." He shakes head, his hands resting on his hips. You narrow your eyes at him, not liking him already. "I see you don't understand how the wicks. We're paying you a whole lot of money, so if we ask you to do something small for us in return," Billy's head drops, "we expect you to do it."

"Now, come this way," He gestures, anticipating Billy's compliance. Instead, Billy stands his ground, "I don't feel like doing that," You glance between Billy and James who kisses his teeth and beckons for a man named Jimmy.

Jesse turns around to face the table, pouring himself a glass of alcohol before extending the offer to you. A subtle shake of your head declines the offer, but Billy eagerly accepts, tossing his head back with a satisfied expression. James whispers into another man's ear, Jimmy you assume as he then continues to tell Billy how he should do this little, to show everyone how good he was.

"You can do that for us, yes?" Jimmy holds Billy's shoulder, his gaze on the floor once again. "And if you agree there, Billy, we got you a little gift, hmm?" James adds as he opens a wooden box revealing a gleaming double action revolver.

You weren't an expert on firearms but the subtle widening of Jesse's eyes before he averts his gaze signifies the weapon's quality "It's brand new. Very expensive. We think you're gonna like it," Jimmy adds as he and James stare at Billy.

Billy's gaze shifts from the gun to the two men standing before him. A momentary hush envelops the room before his eyes meet yours and Jesse's. A sigh escapes him as he sets his glass down.

Billy picks up the gun, inspecting it, before toying with it, eliciting gasps from those around the room. He then tucks it in his gun belt, pouring himself a reasonable amount of whiskey and downing it in one determined gulp. You approach Billy, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm as he wipes the corner of his lips.

"You sure you wanna do this?" You gently ask him, already knowing his reluctance. "What choice do I have, Sof?" He mutters before he's urged to move on.

"Ladies and gentleman, our friend Billy here's gonna demonstrate his gifts as a gunslinger and the reason why we hired him to protect all of our interest. Yeah?" Major Murphy's voice resonates with authority as Billy loads the gun barrel.

You stand alongside Jesse, a tantalizing sip of alcohol hovering at the edge of your lips as you observe the unfolding spectacle. Just a few feet away, Irene grips her satchel, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Come on, Billy!" Murphy exclaims, his applause echoed by the enthusiastic claps of those surrounding you.

Billy wipes his mouth, clearing his throat before fixing his gaze on the targets ahead. The initial shots are a breeze, a mere warm-up for someone of Billy's caliber. In a lightning-fast span of three seconds, all five glass bottles shatter, eliciting an eruption of applause from the captivated crowd.

You smile to yourself, you knew Billy was very skilled, this ordeal demonstrating it even further. He returns to the table where a range of guns were displayed. There's a palpable tension—anger, annoyance, perhaps both—etched across his features.

The stress of the last couple of days working for Murphy, threatening people out of their own homes, has left its mark on him. Night after night, Billy sought solace in you, pouring out his emotions as you offered him nothing but a listening ear and a comforting embrace.

In a swift motion, he removes his tie, choosing another revolver with a sense of purpose. The murmuring crowd hushes as Billy cocks the firearm, once again targeting cans on the ground—now more challenging to spot and precisely aim at, but not for Billy.

With each bullet making contact with the tin, a collective flinch ripples through the crowd, including Mrs. Riley. Unfazed, Billy seamlessly transitions to a rifle. He fires a few shots at a measured pace before seamlessly shifting into a rapid sequence of shooting, cocking, and repeating.

The tension in the crowd palpably escalated as Billy's anger became increasingly evident. The wooden backdrop itself caught fire amid his repeated shots, casting a fearful hush over the onlookers, the only audible sound being the ominous crackling of the flames.

You maintained a composed stance, your gaze unwaveringly fixed on Billy. He, too, remained motionless, likely processing the chaotic scene unfolding. A swift glance at Mrs. Riley revealed her frightened demeanor. Billy wiped his mouth, setting the rifle down, and approached you. Without a word, he took your hand, pulling you along as your eyes briefly connected with Irene, navigating through the subdued crowd.

"You okay, Billy?" You gently ask him knowing he was still fired up from before. He was sat on the bed, arms resting on his thighs with his legs open. You slot yourself in between them as your hands run through his hair, a tender attempt to soothe him.

He tilts his head back, his hands roaming around your back and down your . "You still seem stressed," You frown as he stares at you quietly, though the glint of mischief was still evident in his eyes. "I can fix that," You whisper against his lips before he kisses you aggressively, hungry, starving for more.

The saloon buzzed with the clinking of glasses and the shuffling of cards as Mrs. Riley sauntered in. Her eyes, keen with mischief, spotted Billy at the table, surrounded by others as he was deeply engrossed in the poker game, his attention fixed on the cards in his hands.

"Hey there Irene. Come to join in?" Sam says as Mrs. Riley smiles, "If you'll have me, Sam," As she approached, she ignored the way your hand rested on Billy's thigh as your eyes stay focused on the cards in his hands. Mrs. Riley couldn't help but cast a flirtatious glance his way, something that Billy doesn't catch on, but you do, and Charlie, who was seated on your other side.

"Good evening, gentleman," Her high pitched voice greets as you supress a subtle eye roll. True to their gentlemanly nature, they all reciprocated with polite greetings, Billy even taking his hat off as you remained silent. You silently threw daggers her way.

Your dislike towards the woman started from the second you caught her eyeing Billy when she sat beside her husband in the carriage. Even with Billy’s hands on your waist and the close proximity between the two of you that was more than platonic, it didn't seem to deter her away—drew her more in perhaps.

Undeterred, Mrs. Riley leaned in closer to Billy, her words tinged with flirtation. "My! It's Billy the Kid, isn't it?" She purred, a blatant expression of infatuation adorning her face, her smile captivating display aimed directly at him.

Billy's gaze finally shifts toward her for the first time since she stepped into the saloon. "Yes, ma'am," he responds politely, offering no more than a slight smile before his attention returns to the worn wooden table before him. You gently squeeze his thigh, and as his eyes meet yours, a silent understanding passes between you.

"Do not call me that," Irene interjects abruptbly. "It makes me feel old, and I am not old." She states, exhaling through her nose."I didn't mean to suggest you were," Billy quickly backs himself up.

Your gaze shifts to Charlie, and a subtle exchange of glances circulates the table. "I'm really so happy to see you, Billy," she utters, a faint smile playing on her lips, her voice lowering ever so slightly. The weight of her words hangs in the air, and Billy, in response, squirms uncomfortably in his seat.

You extend your hand gracefully above the space between you and Billy, a subtle bridge in the air. "Sofía Del Tobosco," you introduce yourself, your voice carrying the weight of confidence. Yet, she meets your greeting with a blank, unwavering stare, leaving the air between you tinged with an intriguing tension as the others on the table watch on.

"We haven't properly met, I'm Billy's-" "Aren't you Dulcinea's little sister?" With narrowed eyes, you retract your hand, an awkward silence settling over the table, "I'm good friends with her ya know," Mrs. Riley giggles, leaving you to decipher her intentions at the mention of your sister. A simple hum escapes your lips as you inhale sharply, shooting an annoyed look to Charlie, who quietly chuckles.

"Wanna start a new game?" Sam cuts through the silence. Irene gracefully declines the offer, "Oh, no. You go on. I'll watch," she smiles. "Good," you mutter under your breath, a quiet comment that only Billy and Charlie seem to catch.

Mrs. Riley gracefully raises a wine glass, "Here's to you, Billy," she toasts, her gaze unwavering as she lifts it to her lips. Billy's expression remains inscrutable as he watches. The corners of his lips hint at a subtle upward twitch before he speaks, "Well, we should get going."

You gladly agree with Billy as you get ready to leave, "Gentleman-" "Oh, no. Don't go," Irene cuts him off as Billy freezes, "Stay." Despite being on your feet, you cross your arms, fixing her with an irked expression. "Walk me home later?" She nervously proposes, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

Your lips part in astonishment at her words. There was no way she asking that from Billy when clearly, he has a girl by his side. Billy's eyes flicker towards you, a subtly nod indicating his loyalty. Mrs. Riley persisted, "Please, Billy?" Just as you open your mouth to respond, Sam beats you to it.

"I'll walk you home, Irene," Sam says, diffusing the tension in the air. The relief on Billy's face is palpable as you gently touch his bicep and he glances at you. He bids farewell to the table, and you follow suit, exiting the saloon with Billy. His hand extends behind him, finding yours as he pulls you along with a certain urgency, knowing what the rest of the night would entail.

Amidst the haze of smoke and the lingering scent of alcohol, Jesse and his gang sprawled across the room, resting a chaotic atmosphere. You were making small talk with the people around like the mannered young woman you were.

Your keen eyes wandered around the room before landing on Mrs. Riley, who was making her way to Billy. You narrow your eyes, “Has she learnt absolutely nothing?” Your words spat out with an unmistakable tone of annoyance. Charlie lets out a subdued chuckle, shaking his head as he swirled the glass of alcohol in his hand, a wry smile playing on his lips as he watches Billy and Irene.

"Hello there, Billy," Irene came up behind him, a huge grin plastered on her face. "Mrs. Riley," he politely greeted her, a trace of urgency in his tone, "I wanted to see you. I really—I want to talk to you. I need to." Her words were slurred. Sensing trouble, Billy discreetly scanned the surroundings, his eyes discreetly seeking you.

"Uh- maybe now is not a good time," He made a move once his gaze fixated on your silhouette. "Oh no, definitely now. I have something to say," Irene interjected, pulling Billy back with a subtle sigh escaping him. "Get me another drink, will ya?" Her request carried an undertone of desperation, a silent plea to retain his focus.

Billy surveyed her, noticing the telltale signs that she had indulged in one too many drinks. "Sure," he bobbed his head before moving to find a servant holding glasses full of alcohol. "Gracias,' Billy thanked the woman with a smile before he redirecting his attention back to Mrs. Riley.

She gracefully retrieved the glass from his hand, her fingers delicately lingering on his before she flashed a captivating grin, taking a sip. "What did you want to say?" Billy, with a subtle furrow of his eyebrows, gently steered her back to the purpose of their conversation.

Mrs. Riley gulped. "I want to tell you about my husband," she began, and Billy couldn't help but notice a subtle shimmer in her eyes, dulled by the influence of whiskey. "What about your husband?" Billy questioned, a hint of confusion coloring his expression, uncertain where the conversation was headed.

"I- I hate him," she confessed, punctuating her words with another gulp of whiskey. At the abrupt confession, Billy's gaze eagerly sought yours once again. "You can't even imagine," She shook her head, her voice trembling. "Maybe this isn't the place to talk about this," Billy pointed out as he nervously looked at the people around who could possibly be listening.

There was silence in the air as Billy's words manage to sink into Irene's head. "No," she utters softly, delicately placing her glass on a nearby table. "Light my cigarette, will ya?" She gazed up at Billy, who sighed but complies, retrieving a packet of matchsticks from his pocket and igniting the end of her cigarette.

From afar, you were silently raging inside as you watch the two interact. You knew Mrs. Riley's affection was more than friendly, oh it was more than that. "I feel like I'm going to be sick," You mutter with an eye roll, fishing out a cigarette from your purse.

You move the end of the joint to a nearby candle letting it ignite as you take a few deep drags, eyes glued on Billy and Irene. "Thank you," Irene said lowly, her eyes looking off to the side before she directs her gaze back at Billy. "You know, you're very good-looking, Billy,"

Billy wets his lips, casting his gaze downward, an air of discomfort lingering in the unusual tension between them. "Can we go somewhere? I like you," she murmured, drawing nearer with a drop in her voice.

Billy knew what she was trying to do and he wanted nothing of it. He locks eyes with you for a fleeting moment, your silhouette veiled in smoke, a clear sign of your annoyance. "I don't think that's a good idea," He firmly says as Irene's hopeful expression drops. "Please. Please, Billy," She pleaded. There was something uneasy about how she was begging him.

"I told you I hate him. I have to get away." Mrs. Riley persisted as Billy's eyes search hers. He ignored the unsettling feeling in his stomach, "No. I'm sorry, Mrs. Riley." She pursed her lips before she lightly shook her head, her eyes closing for a brief moment, an acknowledgement of his rejection.

"Never mind," She giggled softly to herself, "It's not your fault," Irene gave Billy a smile before it drops slowly as if something inside of her was sinking. The two of them stood there for a couple of seconds before Billy felt her lips on his.

"What is she doing-" You stub your cigarette on the table, ready to storm off in Billy and Irene's direction before Charlie subtly interjects, his arm forming a barrier in front of you. Your eyes were wide in shock after witnessing the unexpected kiss. "Did you see that? Tell me you saw that, Charlie," you exclaimed, shooting him a pleading look.

"Yes, yes I did. But causing a scene won't help, besides, I think someone else could do that," Charlie whispered in your ear, prompting you to give him a puzzled look as your nails dig into his arm.

Charlie cocks his head to where Mr. Riley was, a few feet away from the two, standing with a few other men. You smirk to yourself, imagining the havoc you would create when you redirect Mr. Riley's eyes to Billy and Irene kissing. Charlie removes his arm from in front of you as you straighten up.

Seizing the moment, you deliberately raised your voice, "Is that Mrs. Riley with Billy?" The words echoed through the room, catching the attention of those nearby.

Mrs. Riley's husband, mere feet away, overheard the commotion. Anger flashed in his eyes as he turned to witness the scene, realizing his wife's inappropriate proximity to Billy. Without a word, he stormed out, following Mrs. Riley into the night.

You push your purse into Charlie's chest, "Watch this for me, will ya?" You gave him no time to answer before you were already moving away from him. You made purposeful strides to follow Mr. and Mrs. Riley, leading you outside.

"Hey!" You hear John's voice yell loudly as you hastily conceal yourself around the corner. You peeped from the corner as your eyes widen; John had a firm grip on Irene who was whimpering. "You fucking, lousy fucking bitch." He seethed, his hold on his wife unwavering.

"What do you mean?" Irene fired back, "I saw you in there, with Billy," John lowered his head as Irene shut her eyes. "I know what you were doing, You was trying to get him to fuck you, because you're a little fucking whore!" He taunted her, violently shaking her slender frame.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Riley seemed the slightest bit drunk. Sensing the intensity, you quietly moved to another spot to hear them better, "I'm tired. I want to sleep," Irene pleaded helplessly, pulling away. Her once-neat bun now betrayed signs of disarray.

"I've had enough of you. Do you understand?" John forcefully pulled her back towards him, and Irene released a pained groan. "You're a fucking embarrassment. You're always out there in heat. It's fucking disgusting and I've had e-fucking-nough!" He yelled in her face.

Part of you wanted to go out there and confront him, but what would that do? Your gaze involuntarily fell on the revolver snug in his gun belt—John Riley, a man not hesitant to use it, especially if he discovered you eavesdropping on their private dispute.

"So have I!" Mrs. Riley yelled back, making you slightly jump at the suddenness of it. "I've had enough of you; I hate you!" She roughly shoved him off of her, stumbling as she walked away.

From where you were hiding, you could see what she was doing. What she was reaching for in her garter. A revolver. Swiftly turning, she cocked it and fired, the shot lacking precision. Her lack of aim resulted in wounding John's upper right arm, and you instinctively covered your mouth to stifle a gasp, your eyes widening in shock.

Meanwhile, Billy had been searching everywhere for you. His search for you led him out front of the house where the unmistakable sound of a gunshot pierced the air, prompting his head to whip in the direction of the noise.

Against the wall, you pressed yourself further, a silent witness to the unfolding chaos. In a single, fluid motion, Mr. Riley drew his gun, the metallic click resonating in the tense atmosphere before a decisive shot rang out. Her body dropped to the floor where you saw a clear view of the blood pooling around her body.

Your hands covered your mouth in both shock and horror. Trembling with fear, you couldn't tear your eyes away. At the echo of a second gunshot, Billy sprinted to the side of the house. The urgency became palpable – you needed to leave, immediately. Peeking cautiously around the corner, you saw John's back, hunched and vulnerable, as he clutched his wound.

You quickly slip out before you bump into a hard surface. Your eyes widen in shock as Billy stares down at you, his eyebrows knit in confusion yet his gaze reflecting genuine concern. Before he can question about your unexpected presence, his attention shifts behind you to where Irene's lifeless form lies sprawled on the ground.

His gaze then locks onto John, who winces in pain. "She's dead!" Billy instinctively pushes you to safety behind him; your breathing is quick and shallow, your chest heaving with rapid breaths. Billy's gaze remains fixed on Mrs. Riley.

"What did you do?" His voice turns cold, and the unmistakable sound of him cocking his gun follows. "Billy!" you whisper-yell, hand urgently tugging on his shirt. "She shot me! She tried to kill me!" John points to his bleeding wound, your fear lingering despite Billy's protective stance. "Now, get me some fucking help!"

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!" James Dolan rushes in between the two, "what the hell is happening?" Billy's aim at John doesn't falter. "You're friend killed his wife." You flinch when John's yell rang through your ears, "She shot me! Look at me!"

"Okay, okay, just.... Billy," Dolan puts his hand on Billy's arm, lowering the gun, "Billy, put it down, all right?" Billy complies but hesitates when he puts his gun back in the safety of his belt. You clutch onto Billy's arm as pulls you into his chest, relief flooding through you as he holds you tightly.

"Hey, go fetch the doctor, huh?" You hear James yell. Unbeknownst to you, Billy's eyes stayed glued on Irene. His lip quivering slightly. There had been so much life in her just a couple minutes before, and now, he stared at her lifeless body, blood soaking into her dress.

As his hand moved to caress your hair, his eyes snap to James and John. James was ushering John to go back inside so that he could help him until Billy interjects. "We need a fucking sheriff!" He yelled, as you felt the vibration of his chest in your entire body as you clung to him even more.

"Billy, Billy please, take me out of here," You pull his face down in between your hands as he gazes at your desperate eyes. "Just, just get out of here!" James instructs the onlookers. Billy brushes the sweaty strands that framed your face back. "Sh, it's okay, 'm right here, sweetheart," He pulls you back into the warmth of his chest as you let out a choked sob.

“What were you doin' there?” The question, anticipated and inevitable, lingered in the air. Placing your cup on the kitchen counter, you turned to face Billy, his eyes fixed on you, awaiting your response. His expression, an enigma.

Exhaling through your nose, you crossed your arms, eyes drifting to the plant in the corner of the room. "I just wanted to check if she was okay, stumbling around the house drunk, Billy," you lied, leaving the part out where you saw them kissing and discreetly letting Mr. Riley know of the inappropriate behaviour his wife was partaking in.

Pushing off the counter, you approached Billy, your feet closing the distance. His legs, too long for the table, faced you, stretching out.

"Then Mr. Riley came, so I hid... And then it happened," you explained, shrugging. A sigh escaped your lips as you settled beside him, your hand offering a comforting squeeze to his thigh.

Billy scrutinized your features, finding sincerity in your eyes, yet sensing an underlying truth—you didn't truly care about Mrs. Riley's death. Your behaviour around her proved it.

"I just can’t stop thinking ‘bout it," Billy admitted, fingers toying with the mug handle before him. "Of course you can't, Billy-" You were cut off as Billy spoke, "She was even begging me! Fucking begged me to take her somewhere, away from him."

You bit your lip, containing your reaction to this new revelation. Irene begging him to take her away? Mr. Riley's accusatory words echoed in your mind, You were trying to get him to fuck you

"I-I should’ve done something. If I had taken her somewhere, she'd probably be alive right now," Billy stammered, and you moved to cradle his head, ushering him to stop. "Billy. Billy, stop." You spoke calmly, though turmoil brewed within.

He blamed himself for Irene's death, carrying the weight of responsibility for her demise, a fate she brought upon herself by flaunting more than friendliness—brazenly, in front of her husband.

"It is not your fault that Irene was murdered, okay?" you reassured him as he fell into silence. "Still, takin’ her somewhere could’ve helped-" "Stop!" You abruptly shouted, making Billy flinch in your grasp.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before releasing your hold on him, and Billy stared at you in shock. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I just-" You halted, inhaling again to gain your composure.

“Do you really think nothing bad would’ve happened to either you or Irene if you did take her somewhere? Billy, Mr. Riley would not have taken it lightly if he found out you did take his wife somewhere,” you reason with him.

Billy nodded slowly. "Yeah, you’re right." You gave him a tight smile, patting his thigh. "I should probably get going, Jesse wants to meet up with me." Billy stood, adjusting his hat, and you rose from the seat.

"Okay, be safe." Approaching him, you smiled up, and he slipped his arm around your waist. "I love you." Leaning in, you replied, "I love you too," your lips meeting in a tender connection.

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