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#becca translates
beccalendsahand · 1 year
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ZuCasino, Yuzuka Rei: October 2022
Long time no translations! It's been a busy year but I finally found the time to finish an interview that I really really love, I hope you are able to understand more about Rei with this sweet Q&A! ZuCasino is a current segment in Takarazuka Graph magazine where prominent otokoyaku get interviewed via a series of casino-style games and questions. October was with Yuzuka Rei. I've tried something a little different this time around where the first time an actress's name is mentioned I link her takawiki page. I've also done translation notes as I go rather than putting them all at the end. Let me know if you find this helpful or just too much. Without further ado, enjoy!
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Part 1: Episode Roulette
We challenged Yuzuka Rei to play our Episode Roulette game!
(Rei has been given a roulette wheel, each section has a topic of conversation, whichever she lands on she has to answer)
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A Joke That Went Wrong
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Episode 1:
Alright so, this is something that happened to me today. Earlier today I went to the quick-change-station* backstage to pick up some hair products for our photo shoot. But then suddenly, our flower troupe musumeyaku from the 100th class* (Oto Kurisu, Hoshikaze Madoka and Itotsuki Yukiha) popped out of nowhere wearing Japanese biker gang outfits!!! I think they had mistaken my footsteps for those of another classmate because they jumped out in sync pulling the same funny faces as if they had known I was coming!  It was so hilarious I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at them! (laughs)
*The "quick-change-station" is an area in the wings at the Takarazuka theatres where the actresses can change between scenes, it has dressing tables and any costumes/props needed for quick changes but it's not part of the actual dressing rooms. *100th class refers to the 100th class of actresses who graduated from the Takarazuka Music School, Takarazuka is based on hierarchy, not just hierarchy within the star system but also hierarchy based on years in the company, so what class people were in at TMS is quite significant, and actresses have a strong bond with those in their troupe who they were at TMS with. When Rei refers to “another classmate” she means another girl from the 100th class. Later on in this interview, Rei will refer to one of her own “classmates”, Rei’s class was the 95th class.
Something you've been thinking about
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Episode 2:
My baby nephew has been on my mind a lot! I often get sent videos of him, he’s over a year old now and has started walking and saying things that sound like words, I can’t get over how fast he’s growing. There’s quite a lot of us in the flower troupe who have nieces and nephews around the same age, so I like to know how they are doing too. Even though I haven’t met them in person, because me and the other flower troupe members are always sharing videos with each other, I feel like I’m watching over them. You know how when you were little you would get those adults who would come up to you and say “Ahh look how big you’ve grown!”? Well, I’m pretty sure I’m becoming that person!
A Special (insert here)
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Episode3:
When I’m performing, I like to try and use my eyes like a camera and take pictures of everyone's faces to save to my memory. Those of the flower troupe and those of the audience. There are lots of times when I see someone's lovely sparkling smiling face and I think “Ahhh I wish I could share this with someone”. So, I want to create my own “Special SSS Seat View!”* Like, you know how when you go to theme parks you can buy photos of yourselves on the rides? It could be like that, after seeing a show you could go to Quatre Reves* and get the photos straight from my brain.
*In Japanese theatres, seats are divided by B, A, S, and sometimes SS seats too. In the Takarazuka theatres the SS seats are the middle block of the first floor at the front, so what Rei means here is that what she sees standing on stage is an even closer view than that, therefore her view would be called SSS. *Quatre Reves is the Takarazuka merchandise store, you can find them at the theatre as well as in major cities across Japan and online!
Praise someone!
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Episode 4
I want to praise everyone on this earth! I think none of us expected this fight (covid) to go on for so long, but even without an end in sight, we have all carried on, one day at a time. There are probably people out there who feel a loss in confidence, and aren’t able to fight on…So I feel like we and the audience are like “comrades” living through this era of great change together. 
There is a lot of pain right now but the fact that everyone keeps going and doing there best is amazing!
Part 2: Card Game
(Rei has been given 2 decks of cards with words written on the back, deck 1 has an adjective, deck 2 has a type of person. She must take one from each deck, name a person that relates and give us an anecdote about them.)
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Deck 1: Cute, Passionate, Must-See, Respected, Bizarre
Deck 2: Upperclassmen, Underclassman, Teacher, Classmate, Flower Troupe Member
Passionate Underclassman*
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The “Fashionable Empire” Rockettes
When I was watching the rehearsals for the Rockette number I found myself thinking “wow they really are the picture of youth!”. They are all just so energetic and have a high awareness of the space and each other, you can tell they are thinking about how to make the dance the most effective, they are such promising underclassmen. It was a Rockette dance delivered with so much confidence!
*Underclassmen generally refer to actresses who have been in the company 7 years or less.
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(Fashionable Empire, 2022) Cute Classmate
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Kizuki Yuuma
We were reunited for the first time in forever in the musical “Top Hat”, it was funny though because she’s a senka member now, so everyone was treating her incredibly politely which she seemed quite humbled by (laughs). On stage, she had an immense stage presence in her dandy-style costume, and her character had a high tolerance for people's behavior, but in the wings and in the rehearsal rooms she would bow more than anyone else! I found it very cute how she would suddenly get smaller and smaller and smaller*. Her embarrassment was in huge contrast to how much she helped us throughout the show, in the way she would speak to the underclassmen and the wonderful insight she gave us into her thoughts on the performing arts. It was just so adorable to me, I remember thinking “You don’t have to make yourself so small!!” (laughs).
*In Japanese culture it's common to lower yourself when speaking in order to show respect for someone higher in age or status than you. So what Rei means here by Kizuki getting smaller and smaller is that she was probably bowing her head and bowing with her whole body so often to everyone that she was getting smaller and smaller, which is quite a funny image when you consider how she usually towers above every other actress. Kizuki recently transferred from the Moon Troupe to Senka (a troupe made up of superior members who guest star in different troupes) so there's no need for her to be lowering herself when she is actually higher ranked than everyone else, but she's not quite used to all the politeness and respectful language the actresses are giving to her yet, so she still feels a little embarrassed and finds herself doing it back to them. 
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(Top Hat, 2022) (from left to right: Minami Maito, Kizuki Yuuma, Yuzuka Rei) Must-See Flower Troupe Member
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Mikaze Maira
She's been Kumicho (Troupe Leader) * for half a year now and she looks after us all by giving us positive encouragement and strengthening the troupe morale. I think she makes it easy for us to all unite and move towards the same goal together by guiding us, not only in the arts but in our emotions as well. Please pay attention to our Kumicho who is full of charm and positivity! *The Kumicho (Troupe Leader) is the oldest member of the troupe, it is her duty to support the troupe and basically make sure everyone is okay, she is usually the first port of call when an actress is struggling with things like stage fright or other worries. Mikaze transferred to Flower Troupe from the Cosmos Troupe with current Flower Troupe Top Musumeyaku Hoshikaze Madoka in 2021, and took over from Takashou Mizuki as Kumicho in 2022
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(The Fascination, 2022)
Part 3: Dice Game
(Rei has been given a white dice and a black dice, similar to the last game, whatever number she lands on has an assigned word, white dice adjectives, black dice nouns, the difference this time is whatever she gets she has to perform!)
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White dice: 1. Cool 2. Sexy 3. Powerful 4. Flirty 5. Sweet 6. Dynamic
Black dice: 1. Face 2. Flying kiss 3. Wink 4. Pose 5. Back pose 6. Kabe-don
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Part 4: Big wins at the Zucasino Question Corner
1. If you are already doing well would you place another bet? I think I usually stop myself when I start thinking about going all in on something. So rather than taking another big bet, I’m the type of person who quits while they are ahead.
2. Are you daring? Or cautious? Tenma Michiru once surprised me by saying “I used to think you were a cautious person, but actually you don’t care at all!”, her idea of the difference between daring and cautious people sounded quite black and white to me. It’s true though that I do just go for it when making decisions. For example, after deciding to move house I moved the next week, and the time between me discovering Takarazuka and enrolling at the Music School was very short.  Timing and chance of course had a lot to do with it, but I do think that when it comes down to those life-changing decisions I get this feeling of intuition to just go with my gut, maybe that's when I become daring.
3. How do you spend big money? For the last 3 years, we haven’t been able to do any trips or go out for any meals together as a troupe, so I’d like to hold a big event where the current troupe members and those who have left the troupe from 2020 onwards all go on a gorgeous trip to Hawaii together! There are so many places I want to go explore so maybe it could be a 3-4 day long trip where we can do our own thing, and then we could plan some kind of special event to do all together during our stay! The girls who have only been in Takarazuka for 1 to 3 years and those who have joined the flower troupe from other troupes like Hitoko-chan (Towaki Sea) have not experienced our dinner entertainment tradition yet, and many of the upperclassmen are itching to perform again so, I think we should put on a banquet and have a good time! Other things I’d like to spend big money on would be buying a holiday home for my parents and maybe starting my own business. Maybe something to do with children's education, something that mothers would appreciate….But I need to know how to spend money wisely first, time to study up!
4. Are you lucky? Or unlucky? I think I’m a lucky person, I’m very happy! Every now and again there are moments where I look at my life and think how happy I am that I am able to make art with the people I love. I may not be lucky enough to win in raffles or lotteries (laughs), but I’m overwhelmingly blessed to live a life surrounded by the many things that I love.
5. What is the luckiest moment you’ve experienced in your life? Entering Takarazuka was a big moment for me, both a lucky and a happy moment (laughs). Not only did I get to be a part of something I love but I met so many lovely people and learnt all sorts of things! Takarazuka has taught me so much, not just about the performing arts, but about being a person as well, I think if I hadn’t joined Takarazuka I would be completely different to who I am today.
6. A moment you’ve betted on In the early stages of joining the Takarazuka Music School you have to make the decision of whether to become an otokoyaku or a musumeyaku. But at the time I was still getting used to it all, I was kind of drowning, overwhelmed by everything, and so I completely forgot that I needed to decide…And before I knew it, we were all lined up about to make our decision! Everyone in turn saying “musumeyaku!” or “otokoyaku!” down the line! My height at the time meant that I was on the threshold between musumeyaku and otokoyaku, and so I was worrying and worrying like “Ahh which do I choose?!”. But then I heard the person before me say “Otokoyaku!” and in a spur of the moment decision I went “Yeah!” and said I wanted to be an otokoyaku. I guess you could say that was a bet? I wonder what would have happened if I had chosen to be a musumeyaku instead. I would have had to use completely different muscles, so my shoulders probably wouldn’t have broadened like they have now…Choosing to be an otokoyaku was a big turning point in my life.
7. A moment that was a close shave! The time when I was still a junior in the company and decided to climb Mt.Rokko by myself on my day off. It was a nice day despite it being winter, and so after enjoying the mountain to my heart's content I strolled back to the bus stop, only to discover the buses had already finished for the day! Looking around frantically I realised there was not a single soul to be seen, I was all alone, it was getting cold and windy and the sun was starting to set… After standing around in the cold for about 20 minutes, just as I started to worry for my life, a cyclist came speeding down the road towards me. But he passed by so fast there was nothing I could do to get his attention, but then he came back and gave me a ride to the cable car! I was one step away from ending up being a news story. I hope that man is doing well…
8. Something you want to protect with all your life The number one thing i want to protect is everyone's smiles. Maybe it's unrealistic to ask for, but I don’t want anyone's smiles to be clouded by anything, not those of the troupe, not those of the audience, or anyone I meet. Everyone is working so hard every day, the people who look after the company so that we are able to perform, the people who come to the theatre, the doctors and nurses who continue to fight to save lives, everyone, so their smiles must be protected. We are forced to endure a lot which can make our hearts feel heavy, but it's for that very reason that I want to be able to capture the smiles of the audience with my “Yuzuka Camera Lense”! No matter your birth, upbringing, age, or gender, people from all walks of life come to the theatre, lose themselves in the story being told and laugh and cry together in that shared space. How amazing is that? I’m so grateful to get to have that experience and so I want to continue to protect it.
Part 5: My Treasure
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Illustrations from manga artists I have been fortunate enough to get to be a part of several plays based on famous manga, and have been gifted original illustrations from their creators. Yamato Waki who made “Haikara-san: Here Comes Miss Modern”, Hagio Moto who made “The Poe Clan” and Kamio Yoko who made “Hana Yori Dango/Boys Over Flowers” . Even now whenever I look at the pictures they drew for me I have a deep feeling of amazement of just how great their work is.
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My beloved dog, Noir He’s so intelligent that it’s like he’s a human trapped inside a dogs body and at any moment he’s going to start talking to me. He is in tune to so many things and keeps at juuuust the right distance from me, all traits that would make me want to marry him if I could, he’s so cute!
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Letters I’ve received from flower troupe members There is a custom in Takarazuka where you give “Pre-Raku Cards”* to those who have looked after you during the performance. I’ve kept all the ones I have received so far. It just makes me so happy that in these letters the actresses get to share with me thoughts and feelings that they don’t normally get to say to me. 
*Senshuuraku is japanese theatre speak for the final performance of a show, it is usually shortened to “Raku” by both fans and actors. “Pre-Raku Cards” or “Maeraku Cards” is a short hand for “Mae Senshuuraku cards” or “The night before closing night cards”. Celebratory messages from fans My album full of birthday cards, top star anniversary messages and other milestones is my number one most precious treasure. “No matter how far the distance may be, my heart will be your side…” This is a line from the song “An oath made on the wind” from “Haikara-san: Here Comes Miss Modern”. During the initial period of the pandemic, these words would often come to mind and they became a phrase which is now very close to my heart. The underclassmen who couldn’t perform the show quoted this line in a video they made during the theatre shutdown, it really cheered me up at that time.
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Videos and photos from the flower troupe During the last performance cancellations, I was sent many videos of things like funny little updates, and people singing whilst playing the ukulele. Performance cancellations are so hard, but if we hadn’t of had them then these exchanges would never have happened..
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Video title: “I will become the wind” Misora Maru Ukulele Version Picture: Flower Troupe Love Picture Caption: “Flower Troupe Love” Will never end!
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Behind the Scenes!
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Thank you for reading! For more Takarazuka translations click here
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tiny-tokunaga · 3 months
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YA GIRL PASSED THE JLPT!!!!!!!
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sunlightfeeling · 1 month
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Another set from @everglowstardust’s beautifully translated Kimura-saaaan of Kimura visiting a dog café
This is a compilation of him demonstrating a day in the life of him and his dog…featuring Monaka-chan playing the, most likely incredibly accurate, part of Amu (his ‘actual’ dog)
And a bonus just cuz:
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spacediddly · 1 year
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The juxtaposition between Butcher punching Hughie in season 2 and in season 3.
In season 2, he punches Hughie right after they get Kimiko’s brother back - Hughie shoved Butcher to stop him from killing Kenji. In his eyes, this pushes Butcher back in his steps to get back to Becca and get her safe. He tells Hughie if he ever gets in the way of getting her back again, he’ll kill him. And he probably, genuinely means it. He hurts someone he cares about (in his weird Butcher way of caring about things) to protect someone else he cares about.
In season 3, he punches Hughie to stop him from taking Temp V again, instead of telling him the side-effects of taking it. Because, as we see in Hughie’s conversation with Annie where he finds out it slowly melts your brain, he doesn’t seem to focus on the fact that Butcher lied or that he could die - or even could be dying - from it. He’s focused on how Butcher saved him (again, in Butcher’s weird way of caring about things). He sees this violent action as a sign that Butcher was trying to protect him. He hurts someone he cares about to protect someone he cares about, this time Hughie.
Butcher only speaks one language; violence. He enjoys it, relishes in it. The only way he can protect is through violence. It is an action to show he cares, even if the person on the receiving end is the one he cares about.
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bucky-fricking-barnes · 3 months
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The Cards We're Dealt
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Title: The Cards We’re Dealt
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 15k
Warnings: Arranged marriage, alcohol, cursing, objectification of women and mild sexism, bad parents, angst, fluff, mentions of drugs
Summary: Bucky and Y/N are the children of the two most prominent mob bosses in New York. When their parents use them as part of a deal, they’re left to figure out how their lives fit together.
A/N: Wow! Another long fic because I have no self-restraint. There’s a bit of Irish in this because I couldn’t resist it when I wrote Steve. Translations are at the end, and anything incorrect can be blamed on Google Translate. As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging, and supporting me in all the ways you do. 
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There is an unspoken rule amongst the mobs in New York that the more drug manufacturers a man controls, the nicer you treat his daughter. So, when Bucky’s father tells him that he’s once again been pimped out as part of a deal, Bucky knows to ask the question,
“How many does he control?”
If Bucky had his way, of course, he would treat all girls as well as he is able (which is very well). He likes girls, and he likes going out with girls. He just wishes he could choose which girls he got to take out.
“Seventy-five percent,” George Barnes says, and Bucky freezes with his glass against his lips. He has a club soda to his father’s whiskey—he’s in a good mood and was actually hoping to enjoy the day, though now he’s reconsidering it. His plan to lounge by the pool with Becca and soak up as much of the late spring sunshine as possible is quickly dissipating. 
“That’s not possible,” Bucky replies. He quickly does the math in his head. His dad owns over half the manufacturers in Brooklyn. “We own—“
“Not anymore.”
The library falls silent as Bucky tries to wrap his head around the news. Just yesterday he’d overheard his father on the phone with one of his men, explaining in great detail what he’d do if they didn’t get him a sample of their newest product by the top of the hour.
“How?” he asks. He sets his glass aside and sits straighter in his chair. “Did something happen? You didn’t tell me about a takeover.”
George takes a sip of his whiskey. “That’s because there wasn’t one.” He sets the crystal tumbler on the small bronze tray nearby. Marta will come clean it up later. “I sold them.”
“You sold them? If you’ve already struck a deal, then why am I taking out his daughter? Isn’t that normally something you have me do to butter their fathers up before you make the deal?”
Bucky watches as his own father stands and goes to watch the landscapers through the library window, his hands clasped behind his back. He’s long since been out of the army, but some habits die hard. Very rarely did the man ever relax.
“You are the deal,” George answers, his voice much too casual for Bucky’s liking.
“What the hell are you talking about?” snaps Bucky.
“Watch your tone, boy,” his father replies. He doesn’t turn around to witness the way Bucky grinds his teeth together in response. “In exchange for the majority of Theo’s territory, you and Y/N will be married within a year and a half, though the exact date is up to the two of you. I believe that Theo mentioned his daughter likes spring, so perhaps a spring wedding. June is popular, from what I’m told, though that’s cutting it a little close to the deadline.”
Bucky’s up out of his seat now. He can feel his pulse thrumming and he can’t quite catch his breath.
“So what? You threw me in to sweeten the pot? Am I just another bargaining chip to you now?”
He’s shouting. He doesn’t care.
George turns and regards him in silence, and, like always, his expression betrays nothing of what he’s thinking or feeling. He doesn’t seem fazed at all by Bucky’s outburst.
“You’re my heir. I make my decisions based on what’s best for our family. Nothing about this decision is impulsive or frivolous, James,” he finally answers, his voice cool and even. There’s nothing familial in his tone—George Barnes is all business. 
“You can’t just decide that I’m getting married. I won’t do it. I refuse,” Bucky tells him. He balls his fists at his sides and he sets his jaw, furious. How dare his father try to control his life like this? It’s one thing to occupy the majority of Bucky’s nights and weekends with dates, meetings, dinners, and weapons runs, but it’s another to throw him into a marriage he doesn’t want.
“I can and you will. If you don’t, there will be consequences. To start, you will be immediately cut off from our family. You will have no money, no home, no resources, and no contact or communication with anyone involved in the business, including your mother and your sister.”
Heart pounding, Bucky glares at him. He’s got a migraine coming on. He knows his father isn’t kidding, but he wants more than anything for Steve to pop out and say that this is all just a joke. He’s never even met Theo’s daughter. He’s barely even met Theo. According to the rumors, his only daughter is his most prized treasure. She isn’t someone who frequents any of the bars, clubs, and restaurants that he and the other “mob children” frequent. Maybe “mob children” isn’t exactly the right term, at least not anymore. After all, Bucky’s engaged now. He’s just part of the mob, another pawn to be moved around the chessboard.
“You have the rest of the day off. I’ll see you at eight tomorrow morning,” says George. He picks up his glass and downs the last of the liquor. “Theo and his family are coming for breakfast, and then Y/N will be moving in with us. I want you on your best behavior.”
He pauses and Bucky continues to glare at him, not validating his words with a response. George’s eyes grow dark with a thinly veiled threat. Bucky knows that look—if he pushes his father any harder, he’ll regret it. 
“Do you understand, boy?”
“Yes, sir,” Bucky grinds out.
Turning on his heel, Bucky stalks out of the library and slams the door behind him. He immediately heads down the hall, then down the stairs and across the ground floor of the Barnes Estate to the garage. His keys are still in his pocket; he’d only just gotten back from a night out with Steve when his father had summoned him.
It doesn’t matter that he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Bucky climbs onto his bike and revs the engine, speeding off down the long driveway that winds around the house. The guards barely get the gate open in time and then he’s flying down the road, heading straight to Steve’s bar in the city. He knows his friend will be there, most likely nursing his hangover and going over the books in his back office. He won’t be hard to convince to go out again, though Bucky knows he won’t approve of the plan to drink as much as he possibly can in the next twelve hours. It doesn’t matter, though—it’s Bucky’s last night as a free man, and he’s determined to make the most of it.
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You sit between your parents, staring at the empty seat across from you. They’d told you this morning that you were going to the Barnes Estate for breakfast, and while you’d expected the grandeur of the dining room and the meal, you didn’t expect the eldest Barnes child to be completely absent. You’ve never met him, but your mother has insisted that you speak to James—George Barnes’ only son and heir—as much as possible during the meal. Supposedly, he’s the same age as you.
Rebecca Barnes is a ray of sunshine and her cheery disposition is a stark contrast to the dark clouds that now hang over your fathers’ heads. Maybe it’s a deal gone wrong or maybe it’s something else, but you don’t like it. It leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Silently, you sneak a hand under the table to find your mother’s. You squeeze and your mom squeezes back, glancing over to give a reassuring smile.
“Y/N,” Mrs. Barnes starts, and you jump a little in your seat. You haven’t been verbally addressed since you’d been seated a half hour ago. The food has yet to be served. “Your parents tell us that you’re very interested in horticulture. Did you know we have a rose garden out back?”
You force a polite smile. “I don’t know about very interested. I have a few house plants that I’ve managed to keep alive, though I would love to see your garden sometime. I’m sure it’s beautiful,” you add.
“Maybe Bucky can take you,” Rebecca says, earning herself a sharp look from her mother. She simply shrugs.
Oh, to be as unbothered as Rebecca Barnes!
“Where is James?” your father asks. His voice is a low, threatening growl and you sink down in your chair, staring at the cloth napkin still folded atop your plates.
“He knows to be here,” Mr. Barnes growls back. “You’ll have to excuse his tardiness, he’s not normally like this.”
Mrs. Barnes gives Rebecca an even harsher look when she opens her mouth to speak, and this time the girl actually looks ashamed. She takes a sip of her orange juice to hide the guilty look on her face. She’s the first person to have actually touched something on the table, and it’s like whatever spell the room has been under is broken.
All at once, the dining room springs to life. A short, slightly heavy-set woman in a gray dress and white apron enters through one door. She’s holding a delicate silver coffeepot and the smell of coffee instantly fills the room. Two younger women in identical uniforms follow behind her, each of them pushing golden carts laden with food. Through the door across the room, a tall man with short, dark brown hair stumbles in. He’s wearing all black, from his rumpled button-up and jeans to his boots and sunglasses. His hair is sticking up in every direction and just like the coffee, you can smell the stench of alcohol coming from him even from your seat.
You grimace at the smell and pull your napkin into your lap as one of the women comes to place food in front of you. It’s a formal dining service and the strange new man who’s entered feels entirely out of place. From his attire to the way he shuffles across the antique rug, everything about him screams that he’d rather be anywhere else. If you acted like that, your father would be pulling you back out into the hallway to reprimand you, and you look anxiously at Mr. Barnes, who’s seated at the head of the table. 
“James,” he greets, his voice unnervingly even. A chill runs down your spine. “It’s nice of you to join us. I trust that you slept well last night?”
James collapses into the only empty chair at the table, the one across from you, and pointedly ignores his father. You risk a glance up at him as he reaches for the cup of coffee that’s already been poured.
True to form, Rebecca leans over and claps a hand on her brother’s shoulder blade. “Good morning! Aren’t you excited to have breakfast with our guests?” she shouts, and her smirk makes it much too clear that she’s fully enjoying the way her brother’s scowl deepens. Rebecca also ignores her parents, including her mother, who leans forward to look past James and give her a look of warning.
James shrugs his sister off of him and starts buttering the toast on his plate. You watch for a moment, then start picking at your own food as your mother also begins to eat. Everyone’s acting so strangely that you’re already on edge, and you’ve only managed to get down a few grapes and two bites of dry toast by the time your father speaks up again.
“So when are we signing these papers?” he asks, sipping his coffee. 
“As soon as the marriage license is signed,” answers Mr. Barnes.
You frown. Marriage license? Who’s getting married?
“And the terms are the same as when we last spoke?”
Mr. Barnes sips his own drink, something that looks suspiciously like whiskey, and sets down the glass. “Yes. I have that contract in my office. We’ll review and sign after we’re done here. Are all of your daughter’s things ready to be moved?”
Your stomach drops and you turn to stare at your father with wide eyes. He nods, not even paying attention to you as he continues his conversation with the other man. Your mother pointedly ignores you, choosing instead to stare at her plate as she eats. When you look around the room, it seems like almost everyone else is doing the same. Rebecca is the only person who actually meets your panicked gaze. She gives you a pitying look as your anxiety rises.
It feels like your mouth is filled with sandpaper, and you grab your glass of juice. You have to drink half of it before the feeling even mildly abates. As soon as you set it down, one of the women in gray appears to refill it.
“What’s going on? Why are you moving my stuff?” you finally choke out. You twist the napkin in your lap with both hands, wringing it as you look from one person’s face to the next.
Mr. Barnes stops mid-sentence and the whole room freezes. Even James, who’s pouring something into his coffee cup from a small silver flask, stops what he’s doing.
“Y/N, sweetheart,” your mother begins, taking your hand under the table.
You want to pull away. You don’t.
“After breakfast, your father and I are going home, but you’ll be staying here with the Barneses.”
“What?” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears. “No, I don’t— I don’t want to stay here. You never said anything about me—“
“We’re getting married,” James interrupts. He’s chewing and you look over at him, gaping at the casual way he’s sprawled out in his chair. You can feel his gaze on you even from behind his sunglasses and it makes you feel dirty. 
“Excuse me?”
He chuckles and sits up, then leans forward in the chair. He drops the greasy strip of bacon he’d been eating onto his plate. “We’re getting married. They’re using us like bartering chips, sweetheart. You and me in exchange for all the drugs and all the territory in New York.” James gestures grandly with one hand, a too-wide grin on his face. There must be at least ten rings on each of his hands and you swallow thickly at the threatening display of black and silver metal.
You’re trembling now and you pull your hand away from your mom’s. She reaches for you again but you shake your head, shying away from her touch. Frantically, you look around the room to see if this is some kind of joke or a drunken rambling, but no one is laughing. Even Mrs. Barnes has the decency to look sympathetic on your behalf.
“No, no. You wouldn’t—“ You look back at your parents, imploring them to say that it isn’t true. You swallow thickly, trying to stave off tears, and your voice wavers as you prompt, “Mom? Dad?”
Their silence speaks volumes and a whimper escapes you as you wring your hands in your lap. The napkin slides onto the floor. It suddenly feels like you can’t breathe and when your mom reaches out for a second time and starts to tell you to calm down, you jerk away and stand. The chair falls backwards behind you, but you ignore it as you rush out of the dining room and into the hallway you’d entered from. Everything is unfamiliar. Frantically, you pick a door and yank on the handle. It doesn’t give way and you continue the process until one of them finally opens and you can rush inside. You lock it behind you and press your back against the door. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows are closed, shrouding the room in darkness. You can’t make out much of the furniture through the tears in your eyes.
Out in the hallway, you can hear your mother calling for you and your father arguing with Mr. Barnes. Mrs. Barnes is yelling at somebody too, but it’s hard enough to hear the others over your own gasps and sobs. You’re properly crying now and you sink to the floor, curling up on the carpet as you heave. It’s a good thing you weren’t able to stomach much breakfast.
A knock on the door makes you yelp and then cry harder, and you crawl into the darkness of the room to try and find a hiding spot. You’re lucky enough to find an old, heavy desk right away. It’s the perfect size for you to crawl under for shelter, and there’s no chair for you to move out of the way. The drawers on both sides create a cubby for you, so you crawl into it and curl up into a ball with your back towards the door, just in case someone manages to get in. If you’re quiet enough, it’s possible they’ll walk right past you.
The crowd in the hallway has definitely heard you by now. The doorknob is rattling as whoever’s on the other side tries to get in, but after a few minutes, they stop and the hallway goes quiet. You hold your breath after every couple of sobs, listening for any sign that they’ve found a key or that they’re picking the lock. Nothing happens, however, and after a while, you give up on listening.
You sit in the darkness and cry until you’re thoroughly exhausted. Once you’ve run out of tears, you sit and zone out with your head resting against the side of the desk drawers for a while longer, numb from the news. Your body feels light and a buzzing, tingling feeling makes moving your limbs seem impossible. You could’ve never imagined that your parents would be so capable of treating you so poorly. You’ve always felt so loved by them, and to hear that they’ve practically thrown you away at the first chance of a profit makes you want to puke. Upon that realization, you actually do throw up, and the stink of your vomit on the carpet of whatever room you’re in makes you want to cry all over again.
The door opens just as the stench is becoming too much to bear. Light floods in from the hallway and you squint, curling up in fear. After a moment, the shorter woman in the gray uniform that you’d seen at breakfast appears a few feet away from the desk, right in the path of light. You look up at her. 
“Oh dear,” she sighs, and you instantly feel ashamed at the disappointment in her voice.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. Your bottom lip is trembling again as fresh tears somehow appear in your eyes. Sniffling, you wipe your nose with the back of your wrists. “I can clean it if you—“
“You’ll do no such thing,” the woman says. Her voice is gentle and kind, so much so that you don’t feel the need to argue with her. She waves her hand dismissively and approaches you, then holds out both hands. She’s careful not to step in the mess you’ve made. “Now come on, up you go.”
You let her help you to your feet and then you straighten out your clothes, sniffling and wiping at your nose again in a desperate attempt to look more put together than you feel. Still a bit unsteady, you whimper for a second time, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, dear.” She gives you a warm smile. “My name’s Marta. I’m the head housekeeper here. It’s very nice to meet you.”
You don’t feel the same way about meeting her, given the circumstances, but you hold that comment to yourself and simply nod in agreement. Marta leads you back out into the too-bright hallway. It’s empty except for a bald man mopping the floor on the far end.
The high ceilings and glossy marble floors make it look like you’re in a castle. Even the silence feels regal. Everything seems so cold compared to your home, and you feel too small in the massive space.
“What time is it?” you quietly ask, looking back at Marta.
“It’s almost noon, Miss.”
Your stomach sinks and you press your lips together, inhaling deeply as you look around again. Three hours have passed.  “My parents…”
“They left about fifteen minutes after breakfast,” she tells you. Her words are matter-of-fact, even if she delivers the news in the softest possible way.
Somehow it hurts worse that they’ve left you than finding out they’d practically sold you to the Barneses in exchange for God knows what. Drugs or territory, whatever James had said. Not only did they treat you like nothing, but they’d deserted you after it was clear you didn’t agree with their plans. They hadn’t even tried to reassure you that they still loved you or that you’d still be able to see them. Maybe you wouldn’t be. Maybe they didn’t.
You nod numbly. There’s been nothing to prepare you for this, no precursor or warning, so you keep looking around the hall, though in reality you’re not really seeing anything. 
“Your room is ready upstairs, Miss Y/N. Would you like me to take you?” asks Marta.
You nod again. You feel like you’re underwater as you follow her up a grand staircase and then down a long, narrow hallway. It’s decorated similarly to the ground floor, though with a plush Persian rug running its length. Marta talks as she walks ahead of you, no doubt explaining what the many doors lead to, but her words simply go in one ear and out the other. It’s all so surreal that when you finally get to your own room, you don’t even open the door. Marta has to reach around you to open it, and then she gently ushers you inside when you still don't move.
Just as they had said at breakfast, your belongings have all been moved into the Barnes Estate. The furniture here is different, grander than what you’re used to, but your blankets and pillows are on the bed, and the two bookshelves are packed full of the books you’ve collected over the years. Even the strip from the photo booth at an old friend’s wedding is pinned to the bulletin board above the desk. Someone’s even thought to put your plants on their own table by the window. 
“There’s a bathroom on the left and your closet is on the right,” Marta explains, pointing to each. “If you’re hungry, dinner is at five.”
“Do I have to eat with them?” you ask.
If Marta is surprised by your question, she doesn’t show it. She simply shakes her head with a gentle smile. “No. We can bring food here if you’d like.”
You nod and stand in silence until she leaves and closes the door behind her. Then, after another minute passes, you drag yourself over to the bed, climb under the covers, and close your eyes.
If there’s any mercy left in this life, you think, I’ll fall asleep and never wake up again.
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Weeks pass and you still haven’t adjusted to life at the Barnes Estate. The staff is only slightly less friendly than those you grew up with, but they’re more attentive. It helps that there are more of them. For every member of the Barnes family, yourself included, there are at least four staff members to attend to their every need. It makes you feel like royalty, but it also makes you feel guilty. You don’t need this much. You certainly didn’t ask for it.
You haven’t seen James since the ill-fated breakfast, nor have you seen your parents. They’ve gone so far as to block your number. After that discovery, you’d locked yourself in the massive ensuite bathroom and cried for an hour. Marta had been the one to coax you out. The poor maid who’d found you when coming to get you for dinner hadn’t known how to help. You’d spent that entire evening curled up on your bed while reruns of The Nanny played on the TV embedded in the wall across from the massive mattress. Marta had spent every second with you that she could, but eventually Mrs. Barnes—Winnifred, as you referred to her in your mind—had scolded her for neglecting her nighttime duties across the estate. That made you feel even worse.
“Are you okay?” Rebecca asks, and you turn to look at her from where you’re staring out the hallway windows at the gardeners. The backyard is massive, complete with a rose garden in full bloom, an outdoor swimming pool, a forested walking trail, a large green expanse for games and parties, a gazebo, a fountain, and what seems to be stables far in the distance, though you haven’t ventured far enough to be sure. A visit to the rose garden hasn’t been brought up again either, and nothing seems interesting enough to explore on your own.
Nodding, you don’t say anything before turning back to watch the men work. They talk and laugh with each other as they prune, pick, and water. You wish that you could trade places with them. 
“You don’t look okay,” she says. Rebecca props herself up on the window ledge to your right, facing you with a suspicious look on her face. “We haven’t seen you at any meals, and Valerie told me that you were crying in the bathtub three nights ago.”
You should feel ashamed, but you’re too numb to care. It feels like you’re floating through each day, detached from most things. You’ve spent your entire life thinking that you would marry for love and live happily ever after. Now, your parents have sold you to the highest bidder and your husband-to-be is a cruel, disgusting man-child that wants nothing to do with you.
Rebecca’s fingers lacing with yours jerk you back to reality and you look down at your joined hands in confusion. Her nails are bitten short and she wears a single ring with the Barnes family crest. It’s dainty and gold, a stark contrast to the many rings on her brother’s fingers.
“You’re safe here, Y/N,” she tells you, her voice gentle. “You don’t have to be alone. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened to you. If I had any say in it, you could be home right now with your parents, but I’m far from the top of the totem pole.”
“I hate them.” You spit the words out and jerk your hand away from hers. “I hate my parents.”
That’s the first time you’ve ever said that in your entire life and your heart skips a beat as the anger makes your lip curl. You’re baring your teeth at her but Rebecca doesn’t even flinch. She’s a mafia princess, through and through.
“They made me believe that I could have anything I wanted, that I could marry whoever I wanted whenever I was ready, and then they threw that all away and treated me like shit the first time it was convenient for them.”
She nods. “That’s true.”
“I was so foolish to have believed them,” you growl, but the fight in you is fading just as quickly as it came. You burn bright, but you burn quickly, too.
“No,” Rebecca says, shaking her head. “You’re just human.”
You look away, embarrassed by your display of emotion as your eyes begin to water with more tears. You were raised to be reserved. You knew very little about the inner workings of your parents’ business, but you’d learned as a young girl that you’d fare better if you always clung to the edges of the room, avoiding the dirt and grime and blood that surrounded your whole life. Over the years, you’ve grown very good at hiding yourself and your emotions from the people around you. From the spark in her eye, you have the feeling that Rebecca is the exact opposite. She could hold her own if it came down to it. You couldn’t.
“It’s okay to be upset,” she insists.
Shaking your head, you take a deep breath and look back out the window. You lift your chin slightly and when Rebecca tries to rope you into another conversation with her, you ignore her and focus on the men outside. They’re finished tending to the roses on the edges of the garden. Now they’re working their way inwards.
You’re finally left alone a few minutes later and as soon as she’s around the corner, you let out a heavy sigh and relax your posture. Slumping forward, you lean forward into the window ledge, curling up just a little as you continue to watch the gardeners. The silly song from Alice in Wonderland pops into your head and you hum along, eventually mumbling to yourself about painting the roses red.
You feel a little bit like Alice, you realize. You’re out of your element in a strange land where everything you’ve learned about life seems to be turned on its head. In this world, nobody marries for love and the girls are just as entrenched in the business as the men. Does Rebecca conduct business with her father and older brother? You could certainly picture it. Will the same be expected of you?
That afternoon, Marta knocks on your door with a written invitation from Winnifred. Your presence is being formally requested at their dinner table, though from the look the housekeeper is giving you, it’s more of a demand than a request. With her help, you pick out something to wear. By the time five o’clock rolls around, you’re crossing the enormous hallway in a dress and heels that you’ve never seen before. It’s far too showy for your taste, but it’s clearly something someone wanted you to wear. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have put it in your closet.
George Barnes and James stand when you enter the dining room, as do several other men you don’t recognize. Your father is standing near the head of the table with George, though your mother and Rebecca are nowhere in sight. Besides Winnifred, you don’t recognize any of the other women. The only empty seat is beside James and your immediate instinct is to flee, but then he’s stepping aside to pull out the chair and all eyes are on you.
Slowly, you close the distance between the two of you and sit. He helps you scoot in, then takes his own seat on your right. The other men sit as well and then dinner resumes. You sit in silence, staring at the top edge of your plate with your hands in your lap. You’re not really listening to the conversations around you, either, but you can feel someone’s eyes on you as you try to stay as quiet and motionless as possible.
“Are you sick or something?”
You startle and look up with wide eyes. James is watching you. He’s got one hand on the table with his fingers brushing the stem of his wineglass and the other resting on his thigh. Unlike your fateful breakfast weeks ago, James is dressed in a neat, all-black suit. He has no tie, and his rings are all gone except one. It’s identical to Rebecca’s family crest, except his is silver and has a thicker band.
His eyes are full of something you can’t place and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. As quickly as you turned to him, you turn away and look back at your plate. The napkin is folded in some elaborate way on top of the plate. You’re not sure if it’s supposed to resemble anything at all, but maybe if you stare at it long enough, it will look like something.
“Y/N?” he prompts. You nod once, tightly, and then pull the heavy cloth napkin into your lap when a server appears to present the first course.
Between the second and third course, you can feel James’ eyes on you. After the third, he gets roped into conversation with a man sitting across the table, but you know that he’s glancing at you all the while. After the fourth, he bumps his arm against yours. You shirk away and feel him tense beside you.
“Excuse me,” you mumble, and you push your chair away from the table. Immediately, the conversations stop and all the men stand again. It’s too much attention on you and you hurry out of the dining room as fast as your heels and dress will allow. You’re stumbling over yourself by the time you get back to your suite on the third floor. The door slams behind you and you collapse onto the floor beside the bed, too overwhelmed to even climb atop the oversized mattress. You’re on the verge of tears when there’s a soft knock from the door, and that rips a sob from your chest that you hadn’t expected.
Immediately, the door opens and James is standing in the open space, a dark look on his face. You sob again and scramble backwards until the edge of the bed frame is digging painfully into your spine.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
You swallow hard and take several gasping breaths, trying to control yourself. Your mind is spinning with insults, calling you weak and pathetic, and you believe every one.
“It’s just too much,” you answer through your tears. “I don’t want this!”
James huffs. His angry expression has faded, now replaced with something more akin to irritation. “And you think I do?”
You shake your head. “Of course not.”
“These are the cards we’ve been dealt, doll. You’re gonna have to get over it. Let’s just get married and then we can live happily ever after in a big house where we never have to see each other. I’ll do what I want and you can do what you want. Sound like a plan?”
You look down at your hands. A big part of you wants to say that no, it doesn’t sound like a plan. You don’t want that life. You don’t want a house so big that you practically need a golf cart to get from one side to the other. You don’t want a husband who ignores you in favor of his blood money or his side chick or the next shiny toy off the black market. You don’t want James.
Though every part of you is screaming the opposite, you nod. He crosses the room and you inhale sharply to steady yourself as he approaches you with no care. His black dress shoes are tracking dirt across the rug. James holds out a hand to help you up and you take it. The heirloom ring on his right hand digs into yours until you’re standing, and then he drops your hand like it’s on fire.
“We need to go back,” he tells you, and you nod again. “Our parents are pissed.”
“Of course they are,” you mumble. 
James pauses, staring at you critically. You’ve been staring at the baseboards since he helped you up, but when he doesn’t move or speak, you glance upwards at him. He’s got one eyebrow raised. His expression is thoroughly unreadable otherwise and an unsettling feeling blooms in your stomach.
“What?” you ask. You step back a little, but there’s no place to go except up against the bed again.
He shakes his head at you. “Nothing. Come on, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.” You scrunch your nose. “Anything but that.”
“Sugar?” he offers, and when you shake your head, he sighs. “Well, what do you want me to call you, since you’re suddenly the one calling the shots?”
His words cut deep and you look back down, hating the way shame immediately pools in your belly. How could he seem angry and irritated with you, then borderline kind, and then completely disinterested in your feelings the next? It’s disorienting, and you don’t need that on top of everything else.
“That’s what I thought. Let’s go.”
Grabbing your arm in a grip just bordering on painful, James pulls you out of your bedroom and back down the hall. He holds on as you stumble behind him in your heels. When you reach the ground floor hallway again, he drops his hand and offers you his arm. You’re hesitant to take it, but he sighs a little and you decide that it’s easier to give in than to put up a fight.
The two of you walk back into the dining room and the conversations immediately hush. James leads you to your waiting seats, pulls out the chair for you, and then helps you scoot towards the table again once you’re seated. As he takes his spot beside you, your father speaks up.
“Have you and James discussed when you’ll be getting married?” he asks.
You pick up your fork and stare at the strange food on your plate, ignoring him. Though your stomach is churning, you force yourself to take a bite. He can’t expect you to answer while you’re chewing—it would be bad manners.
“Next spring,” James answers. “In the rose garden.”
You want to spit on the roses. You swallow your food instead.
“Good choice,” Mr. Barnes agrees. He turns his attention back to your father. “Your daughter is quite the well-behaved woman. She’ll do well with our James.”
Beside you, James tenses again, his grip tightening slightly on his fork. You glance at him, holding your breath, and wait until he relaxes again to take another bite of your food. 
The rest of the dinner passes with mundane, meaningless conversations. Nobody addresses you for the remainder of the meal, not even your parents, and finally the men begin to make their way out of the dining room to an adjoining room. You hadn’t even realized there was a room connected; the door is hidden amongst the paneling and crown molding on the walls.
“You can’t go in there.” James grabs your wrist as you stand to follow the group of men into the new room. His voice isn’t malicious and his grip isn’t tight, but you flinch away from him anyway. It’s only then that you realize the few women that had been in the room are leaving through the door to the hall with their wineglasses in hand.
“Because I’m a woman?” you counter.
“Because you don’t want to hear the things that they’re going to discuss,” he answers. He tosses his napkin on the table and stands, towering over you. After a long second of eye contact, he steps away from you and heads towards the men.
You watch him go and silently weigh your options. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even thought about following the men into the second room. You would have simply taken the same path as the other woman, though your wine would have continued to remain untouched. Now, however, with your wine in hand, you stood at a crossroads. You could go into the room and potentially face the wrath of your father, James, and George Barnes, or you could live forever curious as to what was actually being discussed. 
With your mind made up, you down your wine, step around James, and head through the open door into the room. It’s a study with dark wood paneling on the walls, leather couches, and stale cigar smoke in the air. As soon as you enter, the laughter and conversation stop and all eyes land on you.
“Y/N, you should be with Winnie and your mother,” Mr. Barnes says, stepping towards you. James is behind you now and though you’re hedged in, you simply lift your chin at the older man.
“Why? Am I not allowed to know what family I’m marrying into?”
His face darkens. “Girl, I’m warning you—”
“Don’t speak to my wife like that.” James’ voice from over your shoulder startles you and you quickly turn your head, looking back at him with shock. 
Why is he suddenly standing up for me?
“Hold your tongue, James,” his father snaps. “You aren’t married yet, and Y/N needs to learn her place. One would think her father would have taught her better, considering the problems his wife caused.”
Though you hate your parents for what they’ve done to you, your blood boils at the insult. Your anger rears its ugly head even more when you realize that your father doesn’t look intent on standing up for you or your mom, either.
“That’s enough!”
You swear the room rattles around you when James shouts and you grit your teeth, furious at Mr. Barnes. How dare he insult your father? How dare he talk to you and his son that way?
James grabbing your hand shocks you back into reality. Once again, his grip is almost painfully tight, but you force your face to reveal nothing.
“Y/N and I are going out. If I so much as hear that you’ve said a single thing about her in my absence, you will regret ever giving me any kind of power in this business,” he growls. “The next time you see her, I expect that you’ll treat her with the respect she deserves.” 
The men stare at you and James in disbelief, and then you find yourself being practically dragged out of the room. You’re too stunned to fight back, so you let him pull you across the ground floor of the estate to a door only two down from the dark room where you’d hit the morning your parents had left you behind.
“We’ll have to take the car, unless you’re okay riding the bike in that dress,” James says, pushing open the door. He doesn’t look back at you as he speaks, and it takes you a second to realize he wants a response.
“Car,” you answer after a few seconds. “Please.”
The room James has led you to is a massive garage, stretching farther than you ever realized a similar room could. Three of the walls are made of light gray cement, as are the floor and ceiling, and the fourth wall is made up of windowed garage doors, each one big enough for several cars to drive through simultaneously. Running down the center of the rectangular garage, there is a row of seven parked cars, with enough space to fit at least another car between each one, and beyond that, you can see a row of several motorcycles parked in a similar manner. The cars are in varying shades of gray and black, with the exception of one red sports car at the far end of the group. You can’t see the bikes well enough from the door, but you catch glimpses of blue, silver, gray, and black.
Four enormous, black and silver tool chests are lined up against the wall facing the hoods of the cars, but there isn’t a spot of oil or dirt in sight. You don’t even see any loose tools or equipment. Looking around, you wonder if the tool chests are just there for decoration, or if someone on the estate actually works on the cars and motorcycles.
Maybe James works on them?
“Are all of these yours?” you ask, unable to help yourself. He seems like the kind of guy who would enjoy driving around for fun, and he’s just mentioned something about a bike. You stare at the side of James’ face as he plucks a set of keys off a black pegboard on the wall. There’s a button embedded in the wall beside the board. James pushes it with one thumb and the keys in his hand bump against the wall.
One of the garage doors near the last few cars starts to roll upwards onto the ceiling, revealing the outside of the estate. The sun has completely disappeared from the sky, and the moonlight is blocked by the clouds you’d seen rolling in earlier in the afternoon. The leaves of the large shade trees that surround the estate and form a protective shield from the outside world rustle in the wind. Crickets and cicadas chirp, reminding you of the cool spring nights you’d spent on your family estate as a little girl. You’d run around in the grass near the garden while your mom or your nanny watched you. Sometimes your father’s men would watch from the perimeter of the property, and when you’d wave, they’d wave back, asking what you’d done that day. You always answered them, even if you knew it would get you in trouble. They never stopped asking either, even if it got them in trouble, too.
You stop walking and close your eyes, then breathe in deeply as the night air rushes into the garage. It’s the first time you’ve been even close to the outdoors since arriving at the Barnes Estate. Your skin is still warm from the stifling dining room and the anger you’d felt in the men’s study. The breeze is a blessed relief, even if you do shiver after only a moment. Goosebumps form on your exposed skin—the dress Marta had picked out for you did little to keep you safe from the elements. 
James keeps walking down the aisle formed by the wall and the front of the cars, though you hear his footsteps pause a few moments after you stop following him. 
“Are you okay?” he asks.
You’re a little surprised that he’s not demanding that you catch up. When you open your eyes, you immediately meet his gaze, and a weird feeling bubbles up in your stomach. The expression on his face betrays little, but his stare reminds you of the way your father’s men looked at you all those years ago—interested and almost fond, but ready to push you away at a moment’s notice. You nod and hurry to catch up with him.
Once you get closer, James presses a button on the key fob in his hand. One of the cars in front of the open garage door rumbles to life. The sound it makes is a low purr, almost seductive, and you raise an eyebrow as James approaches, then runs his fingers over the hood. Even if the others aren’t, this car has to be his. It’s a sleek black, with dark tinted windows and a gleaming silver grill in the front. The BMW logo shines proudly in the center. It looks like a car your own father would own. Though you know he’s never owned a BMW, if this car is anything like the ones in your father’s fleet, you know that the inside will be as much a picture of luxury as the outside.
You slide into the passenger seat when James opens the door for you, and in the time it takes him to cross around the front of the car to the driver’s side, you take inventory of the interior. It’s a manual transmission—something your father once said was obsolete, except for car collectors and enthusiasts—which means that you wouldn’t be able to drive it, even if you tried. The car is pristine, so much so that you’re afraid to move. Two water bottles are in the cupholders, and it still smells brand new inside. There isn’t a speck of dirt or dust on the dashboard, nor on the floor mats. The leather seat is soft and there’s a control for seat warming and cooling on the control panel.
James climbs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door. He buckles up and you follow his lead, and then you sit back as he reverses the car out of the garage and onto a winding driveway that leads you around the front of the estate, then along the other side to a large gate with a guard house. You’d forgotten about the extensive security since the last time you’d been outside the Barnes Estate. Your father had handed over your driver’s license, along with his and your mother’s, before breakfast all those weeks ago, and there’d been a strange code word of some kind. It dawns on you as the guard opens the gate for you and James that you’d never gotten your license back.
“Where are we going?” you ask as James pulls onto the main road. It leads away from the estate and into the city. 
“To get some real food,” he replies. His tone is gruff, and it feels like he’s on the verge of an angry outburst, so you slump back in your seat as he shifts gears and the car accelerates. The tension in the car is thick. You don’t want to be the one to deal with it, especially since he’s the one creating it.
After several minutes of watching the enormous mansions and the forests surrounding them pass by, you look over at James again. His expression, just like in the garage, reveals nothing, but you can tell that he’s more put-together than the last time you’d interacted, and it’s not just the tailored suit. His hair has been trimmed and styled, and he has an even dusting of stubble that frames his jawline nicely.
In the time since you’d learned you were engaged, James hasn’t said anything to you. You’ve heard him talking in the hallways as you wandered, but you haven’t wanted to be near him. This is the closest you’ve ever been. Your brief conversations so far tonight make up the majority of the words you’ve spoken to each other. His words from the bedroom echo in your head, until finally, you can’t help but blurt out your thoughts.
“Do you really not want to marry me?” you ask. Your voice sounds small and pathetic, and you hate it, but it’s too late now. 
He glances over at you with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. “What do you mean?”
You sit up a little in the seat, though you keep your hands in your lap and you try not to move your feet, just in case there’s dirt on your shoes.
“I mean,” you say, watching him carefully for his reaction, “that when you came to get me upstairs, you said you didn’t want to marry me. Is that really true?”
“I never said that.” He shifts gears again as you near a stoplight, and the car slows. 
“Yes, you did.”
“No,” he shifts again, his teeth now clenched, “I didn’t. I asked if it looked like I wanted to marry you, and you said it didn’t. But I never said I didn’t want to.”
Now you’re confused, and you frown at him, ignoring the obvious irritation in his voice. The car rolls to a stop behind a Ferrari blasting music out the open windows. 
“So you do want to marry me?” you ask. 
He sighs and drops his hand from the gear shift, then looks over at you. “Y/N, I’m not going to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, so if this is you testing to see how I’ll treat you, then you have nothing to worry about. I’m not a monster.”
“It’s not. I just…” You stop, unsure of how to phrase what you’re feeling. It’s strange to be upset over a marriage you don’t even want, but for some reason, you are. 
“What?”
“If you don’t want to marry me and I don’t want to marry you, then why are we going along with this?” you finally ask, settling for the bigger question than the one that’s truly nagging at you.
“Because we know that if we don’t, life will be hell,” he answers.
It’s the truth. You know it is, and you know it deep down. If the two of you refuse this marriage, your life will be worse than you could possibly imagine, and you’re fairly certain that your fathers will find a way to make it happen anyhow. They’re well-connected in every sphere of life, not just when it comes to drugs and weapons. Your father probably has a priest on his payroll.
The light turns green and James moves the car forward again, merging into the right lane almost immediately. He slows as you approach a valet stand outside an upscale bar you’ve never heard of. It’s not one of your father’s, which means it probably belongs to George Barnes.
Then again, you think as a uniformed man opens your door, maybe it belongs to James.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Barnes,” a valet on the other side of the car greets.
James hands him the keys. “You too, Tommy. Listen, don’t park it too far off. We’re not staying too long.”
The man nods and climbs into the driver’s seat as your own valet leads you away from the curb. James meets you next to the valet stand and offers you his arm, then heads towards the doors.
“What is this place?” you ask as he holds open the door for you.
“My friend’s bar,” James says.
Your stomach twists itself in knots as heavy club music starts to get louder. The bass rumbles in your chest and you dig your nails into his arm as you near a set of glossy black double doors. You haven’t been to a club in a long time. The last time you’d gone, you’d been dragged by a childhood acquaintance, but you’d spent most of the night alone after she’d ditched you for someone she met on the dance floor. You’re not particularly eager to relive that experience tonight, especially with the man you’re being forced to marry. Who’s to say he won’t ditch you for someone else right in front of you, just to rub it in your face? After all, he’d said it himself in the bedroom—you’ll do what you want and he’ll do what he wants. It’s the cards you’ve been dealt.
If these are the cards, then I’ve got a sucky hand.
“James—”
“Bucky.”
You stop and squint at him in the low light of the entrance hallway. The two bouncers in all-black suits stop with their hands on the door handles, ready to open them for you once you start walking again. The music pounds in your ears, so much so that you can feel your eardrums vibrating.
“What?” you ask, not sure you’d heard him correctly.
“Bucky,” repeats James, a little louder this time. “You should call me Bucky, if we’re going to be married.”
“Is that… a nickname?” 
Even in the darkness, you can see him laugh, and a bashful, boyish smile spreads across his face. “My middle name is Buchanan. Steve used to tease me about it when we were kids, and he started calling me Bucky as a joke. It caught on.” He shrugs it off, but there’s a fondness in his voice when he speaks of his childhood friend, and it makes you smile just a little.
You loosen your grip on his arm. “Okay then. Bucky,” you add.
When Bucky steps forward again, the doors are pulled open, revealing a much more casual bar than you could’ve anticipated. Though it’s clean, it looks a little run down, and the heavy music fades into jazz piano as you step through the open doorway and into the large, open space. With almost cathedral-height ceilings, walnut floors and support pillars, and well-worn wooden booths and tables, the bar feels more homier than you’d expected. It’s clearly been well-hidden from the busy crowds of New York. Only a few patrons are scattered around the room, sitting in the booths or at two-top tables, but Bucky leads you to the wood, u-shaped bar that juts out into the room from the back wall. A single man stands behind it, drying glasses with a white bar towel. He smiles when he looks up and sees you approaching.
“Bucky,” he greets, and he reaches over the bar to pull Bucky in for a hug. It’s the first time you see Bucky smile—a real, full, genuine smile—and you watch in silence as he hugs his friend.
“Steve,” Bucky replies. Instantly, your brain starts connecting the dots. This is his childhood friend, the one who gave him his nickname.
“Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil.” Steve turns his attention to you, and you quickly look away from Bucky and at him. Your brain whirs as you try to place the language he’s just spoken. It’s not one you’ve heard before, which means none of your father’s men speak it, and neither do any of the Barneses.
“You must be Y/N.”
You nod and offer Steve a small, polite smile. You’re not sure how to act around Bucky’s friends. If they’re also part of the mob, it’s possible they’ll treat you even worse than George Barnes had after dinner, but a new, surprising voice in your head argues that Bucky would never be friends with someone like that.
“It’s okay,” reassures Bucky. He reaches out and touches your arm, gentler than he has all evening. “Steve’s a nice guy, and he knows about our family businesses. You can trust him.”
Steve looks between the two of you before picking up a glass and setting it right-side-up in front of you. “What’ll it be, Y/N?”
You glance at him, then at the wall of liquor behind him. After a moment, you list off a drink that’s not your favorite, but that you know you’ll be able to stomach no matter the circumstances. Steve nods in response before starting to make it.
Silently, Bucky takes one of the chairs at the bar, and you do the same. He sits with his arms folded on the counter. He’s still wearing his suit from dinner. You feel a little out of place in your fancy clothes, and you wonder if he feels the same.
Your drink is placed in front of you a moment later, and after Steve’s silent prompting, you take a sip. It’s delicious, and you can’t help but smile at him.
“Aha, I’ve still got it!” Steve cheers, and you laugh. He grins at you, a charming type of smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest. You feel a little sheepish at the intensity of his joy, and you fidget in your seat, then with your hair.
Beside you, Bucky rolls his eyes and tosses a round paper coaster at his friend. “Knock it off, Rogers,” he huffs. “Stop flirting with my girl. You’ve already got one of your own.”
You glance over when he calls you that, but you don’t say anything. There’s another weird feeling in your gut now. This one, unlike the one you’d had in the car or the fluttering feeling Steve had given you, you recognize immediately—pride. It feels good to have Bucky call you “his girl”, even if you barely know him. It’s strange, and the thought makes you squirm in your seat again. You drop your hand down to the bartop and take another sip of your drink, trying to quell the strange feelings inside of you. 
What is going on with me? Why can’t I just feel normal about all of this? Is there even a normal way to feel about this?
“You hungry?” asks Bucky, and you nod when you realize he’s talking to you again.
“I make a mean twice-baked potato,” Steve says. He plants his hands on the bar to look between the two of you. “Whaddaya say, Y/N? You up for it?”
“Only if you put the jalapeños on the side this time, punk,” Bucky tells him before you can reply. He seems to remember himself a second later, however, because he looks over at you. “Unless, of course, you want them on top.”
You shrug, not wanting to upset anyone, and Steve groans.
“Come on, Y/N,” he says, and he smiles wide as he gestures around the almost-empty bar. “I’ve got all the time in the world to make your food exactly the way you want it. Don’t make me guess.”
“He’s bad at guessing,” Bucky chimes in.
“Terrible,” Steve adds, nodding earnestly.
Tentatively, you list off what you want, and Steve makes a note of everything on a notepad that seems to appear out of nowhere. Once he’s got your order down, he disappears through a door in the back wall. Before it closes, you catch a glimpse of a shining kitchen filled with stainless steel, and you wonder how many patrons come through the bar if Steve has what looks to be a full-sized kitchen in the back.
“You didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured I’d bring you someplace that actually has good food,” Bucky says. He reaches across the bar to grab a bottle of beer Steve has left out, and he uses one hand to pry the top off. 
You gape at him, too distracted by the blatant show of strength to properly process the very thoughtful thing he’s just said to you. “What?”
“I said that you didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured—”
“You just pulled the top off like it was nothing. How did you do that?” You look around on Steve’s side of the bar for another bottle, hoping to try your luck. Maybe it’s some new kind of bottle that he’s trying out before it hits the market, or maybe Steve has bootleg beer with a different kind of cap.
Bucky is staring at you, seemingly just as confused as you. “With my arm.”
“With your arm?” you repeat. You’re certain that he’d used his hand to pry it off.
He stares at you for a second longer before the confusion disappears and is replaced with a glint of mischief in his eyes. It makes the shadows on his face melt away a little, and his blue irises seem bright and youthful again, entirely unlike a man who’s seen too much.
“My arm,” he reiterates, and then he pulls off the black glove you’d assumed to be part of his personal style. It’s not just for show, however, because he pulls it off to reveal a black metal hand with dull gold knuckles. Bucky continues, standing and shrugging off his jacket, then rolling up the sleeve of his button-down shirt. As he reveals more and more, you realize that the black metal continues, making up what would be his left arm.
No wonder it hurt when he grabbed me.
“It’s metal,” you dumbly say, and he snorts.
“Observant.”
You shake your head and look from his arm to meet his eyes. “You have a metal arm. How didn’t I know that?”
Bucky shrugs and drapes his jacket over the back of the chair. He leaves the glove on the bar where he’d first set it down. Once he’s seated again, he rolls up his other sleeve to match.
“Beats me. I figured everyone knew. My dad wasn’t subtle when he was bragging about the arm he had made for me when it first happened,” replies Bucky. He takes a sip of his beer, then sighs and sets it back down.
You don’t want to pity him, so you try your best to school your expression by taking a sip of your own drink.
“Was it an accident?” you ask after a minute has passed. He doesn’t reply right away, and you scramble to save the conversation. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
He shakes his head. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen,” he says, and his voice is quieter than before.
You look back down at the drink in front of you. Twisting the glass around and around, you ask, “And it was an accident?”
Bucky takes another swig of his beer. “I was with my dad, working a job. I didn’t even realize I’d been injured until I woke up in the hospital, two weeks later, missing an arm. Apparently, falling shipping containers are heavy.”
You can’t help but curse. What he’s describing sounds horrible, but Bucky only laughs.
“That sounds about right, yeah. I’m lucky I had Steve around to keep me sane,” he tells you. “My friend Sam was a big help too, but he moved down to Louisiana a few years ago.”
“Steve seems like a good friend,” you agree. “They both do.”
You can feel Bucky staring at you now, and you take a sip of your drink while you wait for him to look away again. When he doesn’t, you glance in his direction.
“What?” you ask.
“What?”
“Why are you staring at me?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are!” you laugh, and you look at him fully this time. Bucky’s grinning, and you ball up a cocktail napkin and toss it at him.
“Okay, I was staring,” he admits, still smiling. “But I can’t help it. You’re pretty, and you’re nice, and you seem smart.”
You feel your cheeks grow warm at the compliment, and you look away. “You don’t have to say that. We’re already engaged.”
“I’m not saying it because we’re engaged. I’m saying it because it’s true.”
You don’t have a chance to reply before Steve comes out with two hot plates. He places them in front of you, joking briefly about giving you the wrong order, and it’s distraction enough that you sit up tall and smile wide. You push Bucky’s compliment out of your head as you chow down, groaning and moaning about the potatoes. They’re exactly what you need after the stressful dinner. Bucky was right—you hadn’t eaten much, and Steve’s cooking is delicious.
Once you’re full, you push your plate away and lean back in your chair. Steve grins at you before he goes back to counting the cash drawer. The other patrons have left already, leaving you, Steve, and Bucky alone in the bar.
“That was amazing,” you tell him for the hundredth time, and Steve chuckles.
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell mo bhean chéile—my wife—you said that, considering she still believes potatoes aren’t a meal.”
You notice the wedding band on his left hand as soon as he says it. Above it, also in silver, is a familiar ring. If you weren’t able to see the family crest, you would’ve thought it was the same as Bucky’s, but this ring has an eagle and a star engraved on it, rather than the wolf you’ve seen on Rebecca and Bucky’s rings.
“Potatoes are a meal!” you argue. You can tell that Steve has clocked you looking at his rings because he shifts his hand, instinctively blocking your view as he looks for your own ring. You’d taken your parent’s ring off the day you’d cried in the bathtub and you haven’t worn it since, but no one in Bucky’s family has replaced it with their own. It’s the first time since middle school that you haven’t worn a family ring, and you’d be lying if you said it was a weight off your shoulders. You’d thought it might be, but instead it just makes you feel naked.
Steve laughs and his posture relaxes. He stops hiding his rings from you when he realizes your hands are bare. “Well, whenever you meet her, you can have that argument with her, because I’ve already had it at least a dozen times.” He closes the drawer and fixes his eyes on Bucky, who’s just finishing his food. “Speaking of, when are you two coming over? I promised Peg I’d wait until Y/N had settled in to ask, and you seem settled enough to me.” He glances at you for the last part, and you look down at your empty plate.
“It’s not up to me,” answers Bucky. “We’ll come over whenever Y/N is ready. This is the first time we’ve been together since my dad dropped the bomb on us.”
Steve pauses, his hands on the tablet he’d set down before starting to count the night’s profits. “Wait. Really?”
You nod when he looks at you, suddenly self-conscious again, and you pull your hands into your lap. “I haven’t been the best house guest…”
“You’re not a guest, Y/N. It’s your home now, too,” Bucky interjects.
Reaching over the counter, Steve smacks the side of Bucky’s head. His accent is thick when he huffs, “Íosa Críost, you thick! You didn’t think to go talk to her? To see if she wanted to watch a movie? To see if she needed anything?”
Bucky stammers over in his seat, and you keep your head ducked to hide your smile. Clearly, Steve knows more about being married than Bucky does—most likely from experience, since he’s already mentioned his wife—and he isn’t afraid to tell his friend off for not looking out for your well-being.
“I’m sorry!” exclaims Bucky, ducking another hit. “I wasn’t thinking!”
“Like ifreann you weren’t!” Steve retreats and picks up the tablet with a huff, then looks at you. “Y/N, I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with him. He’s actually a nice guy when he’s not being stupid.”
“Stupid?” Bucky protests beside you.
“I wouldn’t have talked to him even if he’d tried,” you admit, finally looking up, “but it wouldn’t have hurt if he had.”
Steve nods, satisfied with your response. He leaves you a minute later when his phone rings. The wide smile on his face is enough to tell you who’s on the other end, but then he says her name as he walks away, the phone already held to his ear.
“So what’s with this place?” you ask. The quick change in subject is purposeful, and you hope that Bucky will take the bait.
Thankfully, he does. Bucky glances around before finishing off the last of his drink and setting the empty bottle closer to Steve’s side of the bar.
“Well, Steve wanted a place that we—and other people like us—could spend time without feeling like there was always a fight about to happen. We didn’t have that growing up, you know? And now that he’s in charge, he can do what he wants with his money. Everything’s filed properly, he doesn’t advertise, and all employees are paid above the table. If other people show up, then sure, they’re welcomed in, but they’re also fully vetted once Steve gets their IDs. Weapons aren’t allowed, and there’s no shop talk of any kind.”
“So it’s your little hideaway,” you say, propping your head up with one hand. The heaviness of the potatoes combined with the alcohol is starting to make you sleepy, and the emotional exhaustion from the night has started to weigh heavy on you, too.
He smiles a little. “Something like that.”
Bucky stands and rolls his sleeves back down, then pulls on his glove. He pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and sets it on the bar.
“Come on, doll. We should head home,” he says.
The warm feeling you’d felt when Bucky had called you his girl comes back, and you smile a little when he holds open his suit jacket for you. A little sheepish at the gesture, you slide off your seat and let him help you into the sleeves, then take Bucky’s hand when he offers it.
“Bye Steve!” you call, waving with your free hand.
Steve looks up from the other end of the bar, where he’s wiping down a counter with one hand and holding his phone with the other. He lets go of the rag to wave back.
Silently, Bucky leads you out to the front, where the valet already has his car pulled up. You’re not sure how they knew to have it ready, but you don’t dwell on it. Stranger things have happened in your world. Bucky tips the valets with another wad of cash before opening the passenger door and helping you in.
You fall asleep on the drive home. You don’t mean to, but Bucky turns on the radio a few minutes into the drive, and he lets the first station that comes on continue to play. The music is soft, and he drives so smoothly that it lulls you to sleep before you’re even fully out of the city.
When you wake, it’s because Bucky’s stubbed his toe on something, jostling you in his arms. He’s muttering curses under his breath and hobbling down the hallway, and though the jerking motion and his tightening grip isn’t the most comfortable for you at the moment, you keep your eyes closed and force yourself to keep your smile at bay. Bucky is a much sweeter guy than you’d first thought him to be, and it seems like he’s trying now to make up for lost time. You’d misjudged him at first; just like you, he has his own ways of dealing with the life forced on him by his parents, but he really is a gentleman underneath it all.
He carries you to your bedroom and carefully lays you on top of the covers. Then, as gently as possible, you feel him lift your foot and pry off the uncomfortable shoes Marta had picked out for you. Bucky stays totally silent as he takes the shoes off and sets them on the floor at the end of the bed. He pulls a thin blanket over you, one that you’re sure is just for decoration when the bed is made, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. You have to force yourself not to smile when he whispers,
“Goodnight, sleep tight.”
The door clicks shut as he closes it slowly, and you peek open an eye after a few seconds have passed. Your room is dark and empty. Silently, you smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, your eyes heavy. It’s been a long, exhausting evening, and you’re happy to be in bed. You fall asleep to the sound of spring rain on the estate windows and with Bucky’s jacket still wrapped around you.
Over the next few weeks, Bucky slowly enters your life in both big and small ways. He smiles at you over meals in the dining room and late night snacks in the kitchen. He drives you to the city to visit Steve, Peggy, and his other friends, and when he finds out that his father still has your license, Bucky argues with him for over an hour to get it back. Marta delivers your license to your room the very next day, along with a handwritten note that the dark blue Mercedes in the garage is there for your use. Sometimes, you wake up to a bouquet of flowers with another handwritten note. Sometimes it’s a text, and sometimes it’s a gift. Bucky develops a habit of purchasing anything you mention enjoying or even vaguely liking, and you eventually have to tell him to stop because he’s bought you so much that there’s nothing left to buy for yourself.
Bucky turns out to be a closer friend than anyone you’ve ever known. He’s kind, and funny, and intelligent, and he remembers all the little things about you that nobody else does. When you’re sick or feeling lonely, he’s attentive and his presence alone reminds you of all the good things in the world. He makes your days brighter, even the worst ones. You find yourself falling in love with him, much to your surprise. You admit this to him one day. He kisses you then, and he tells you that he’s been in love with you since the first trip you’d taken to Steve’s bar. 
Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas roll around. New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, and Easter come and go. The Barnes’ grand celebrations for every holiday blur together as the months fly by, until eventually, it’s June and you’re standing in your room, staring at your reflection in the full-length mirror.
The wedding dress you’d picked out a few days after Christmas is just as beautiful as you remember it being. It fits you perfectly, thanks to the impeccable work of several tailors employed by Winnifred, and your hair and makeup are flawless as well. There’s no possible way you could’ve imagined how beautiful you look and feel on your wedding day. 
Through the open window, you can hear a string quartet playing outside in the rose garden, where the ceremony is set up. Steve has already come by once to check on you at Bucky’s request, but both men are back downstairs. Bucky’s no doubt at the front of the garden with the priest—the one that you now know for certain is on your father’s payroll—and Steve is waiting with the rest of the wedding party. The only people remaining in your room are Marta, your mother, and Peggy. 
You’ve grown to love Peggy more than any of your childhood friends. She didn’t grow up in the same world as you. She didn’t even grow up in the same country, and you love her all the more for it. She’s rational, cool-headed, and kind, though she’s not afraid to stand up for what’s right. On top of all that, she’s drop-dead gorgeous. It’s easy to see why Steve fell for her during his time in the military.
The quartet finishes the song and moves onto a new one, one that you recognize after only two notes. Your stomach drops and you close your eyes, gripping your bouquet tightly. It’s the song you’d been listening to the morning you’d found out about your engagement. You’d discovered it the night before, and you’d had it on repeat before going to sleep that night, then again that morning as you’d gotten ready. You’d even listened to it in the car on the drive from your parents’ estate.
Who added this to the playlist? Is this some kind of sick joke to them?
The same feeling of dread you’d felt that morning comes back, making your mouth dry and your head spin. You try to take a slow, deep breath to calm your nerves and block out the song, but it doesn’t work.
“Y/N?” Peggy asks.
You inhale sharply at the sound of her voice so close to you. She’d been texting Steve from near the window only moments before. You hadn’t thought that anyone would realize your distress, and you’d hoped to be able to collect yourself before it was noticeable. You hadn’t even sensed her coming closer.
“Y/N, are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you tell her, but your voice wavers and your lower lip quivers. You try to take another slow breath.
“What’s going on?” Marta asks. Her hand lands on your arm and you pull away, closing in yourself and pulling the bouquet tight against you.
Your mother’s scolding makes you feel like you’re a little kid again. “Careful, Y/N! You don’t want to ruin those flowers. We don’t have time to make another bouquet for you. George is already hounding your father about how soon after the ceremony you’ll be signing the certificate.”
Anger wells up in you at her thoughtless comment, and you open your eyes. She’s standing behind you in the main part of the bedroom, near the foot of your bed. Any guilt you might’ve felt over ruining the flowers is gone now, and you turn and chuck the bouquet at the carpet by her feet. It bounces once, then lays motionless in a heap of smashed petals and ribbons.
“Enough, Mother!” you shout.
Marta rushes to close the window so the guests in the garden won’t hear your outburst.
Your mother gapes at you, somewhat surprised, but she doesn’t budge. “Y/N, dear. What are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” you yell, stepping closer. Your dress swishes as you walk, and you normally enjoy the sound, but you’re too furious to care how pleasing it is. “What are you doing? I am your only daughter! You should be treating me like a princess and worrying about how I’m feeling and what I need, but instead you’re too busy thinking about the damn flowers! I’m sick of you thinking of me like I’m an object you can sell, steal, and trade away whenever it’s most convenient! You and Dad are so obsessed with the timeline you’ve created for yourselves that you don’t even notice how much this has affected me! You didn’t even ask if this is what I wanted!”
She scoffs at you, and any trace of motherly care and concern has disappeared from her expression. Your mother is showing her true face—the mafia wife that has almost as much blood on her own hands as her husband does, if not more.
“It’s too late for that now, isn’t it?” she asks. She picks up her clutch from the end of your bed and steps closer until you're standing eye to eye. Her voice is patronizing and infuriating, and she continues, “It’s your wedding day, dearest, and you can’t back out now. We’ve made sure of it. Even James has agreed to the contract.” 
Your anger wavers. “Contract?”
“Yes, the contract,” she repeats, smirking. Her cards are all on the table now, and she’s got a winning hand. You both know it.
There’s a malicious glint in her eye as she says, “It’s already in effect. It has been since we agreed on the marriage.”
“What contract? What are you talking about?” There’s a sinking feeling in your chest, like your heart has decided to drop into your stomach, then down to your feet and through the floor. Bucky hadn’t said anything to you about a contract, and you trusted him, but you certainly didn’t trust your parents anymore, nor did you trust George and Winnifred Barnes.
Your mother smiles, a sickeningly sweet smile that makes you want to puke. “That’s a conversation for another time. After all, it doesn’t even matter to you until James gets you pregnant.”
The alarm on your phone rings and you close your eyes, your hands trembling. You’d set that alarm to remind you when it was time to leave for the ceremony. Right on cue, the wedding planner knocks on the door to your bedroom.
“Y/N?” she calls, knocking again. “Are you ready?”
Slowly, you squat down and pick up the bouquet. It’s smashed on one side and the petals have fallen off of various flowers, but it’s mostly intact. It shakes as your hands tremble and tears well up in your eyes.
Marta appears in front of you, having pushed your mother out of the way, and over the ringing in your ears, you hear Peggy talking to the wedding planner. Somehow, you make it out to the ground floor of the estate, to the double doors that lead out to the rose garden. You’re dazed by your mother’s strange revelation. The sound of the alarm is still ringing in your ears. Peggy says something to you, but you can only stare straight ahead. 
Your father is next to you then, as Peggy disappears through the doors and joins the rest of the wedding party. You see her glancing back at you, and whispering to the rest of the groomsmen and bridesmaids. Most of them are Bucky’s friends who have now become your own, and all of them look worried. 
“Let’s go, princess,” your father says, and he pulls you forward by the arm.
Numbly, you follow his lead. Not even Bucky’s initially delighted expression shakes you out of your trance, but the way he rubs his thumb over your hands at the end of the aisle pulls you out of it just enough for you to lift your head and look around. You don’t remember walking to him, nor do you remember handing off your bouquet to Peggy, just like you’d practiced last night at the rehearsal.
“Y/N? Darling?” Bucky asks. He crouches and tilts his head slightly to try to catch your eyes. “You okay?”
“I—” Your mouth is still dry and you swallow, your eyes flitting from one place in the garden to another with no rhyme or reason. The world feels like it’s spinning and you clutch Bucky’s hands, unsure of what to do.
“Someone get her a chair,” Bucky orders, raising his voice enough that you flinch. He immediately starts murmuring reassurances to you, and he pulls you into his arms until he can lower you into a seat.
Someone fans you and a cool glass is pressed to your lips. You drink obediently, closing your eyes as the water helps the sandy feeling in your mouth abate just a little. When the water is gone, the glass is pulled away. 
“Y/N, can you hear me?” Bucky asks. 
Slowly, carefully, you nod your head. He sighs in relief and when you open your eyes, he’s kneeling down in front of you. His shoulders are tense and his forehead is creased with worry. You’ve never seen him this stressed over anything and it makes you want to cry.
“I’m sorry,” you croak, heat flaming in your cheeks. You feel horrible. Bucky has been looking forward to the ceremony—he’d told you last night at the rehearsal dinner.
“It’s okay,” he quickly replies. He reaches forward and takes your hands, and you glance away from him to peek at the guests, your parents included, who are still watching you from their seats.
“Are you ready for this, or do you need a break?” 
You look back at Bucky. “A break?”
“She’s fine,” your mother says, and you look over at her from your seat. She’s standing in the front row, her eyes fixated on the priest behind you. “They’re fine, Father. Y/N’s been a bit nervous all morning. Wedding day jitters, you know.”
“I—” You frown at her, still clutching Bucky’s hands. “That’s not what it is.” You look down at him and shake your head. “I’m not nervous to marry you.”
“I’m not nervous either,” he says with a small smile. 
“Then shall we continue?” the priest asks.
You turn to shake your head at him. “No. I’m sorry, Father. I need to talk to Bucky—James—in private for just a minute. Is that alright?”
He smiles gently and nods. “Of course.”
There are more agitated murmurs from the crowd, but you ignore them as Peggy, Steve, and Bucky help you up and back down the aisle. When your mother moves to follow you, she’s blocked by Sam and Clint, another one of Bucky’s friends. She calls after you once, but you ignore her as Peggy helps you onto a bench inside, then leaves, closing the double doors behind herself. She’s handed back your bouquet, and you clutch it with both hands like it’s an anchor in the storm.
“Is everything okay?” Bucky asks. He stands near the door, and you can tell from the way he rolls his shoulders that he’s stressed. His prosthetic always bothers him more when he’s agitated, and you suddenly feel even worse about stopping the ceremony.
“Yes,” you say, but then you shake your head. “No, I’m sorry. Obviously, it’s not, or I wouldn’t have stopped everything. I’m sorry, Bucky, but I have to ask you something.”
“Okay…” There’s a wariness in his eyes, one that you loathe yourself for. You put it there, and you wish with all your might that your mother hadn’t told you what she did. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to do this.
“Did you sign a contract? With our parents?”
He frowns and his whole body grows very still. “A contract?”
You nod. “Yes.” With your hands still fisted tightly around the bouquet, you inhale deeply and add, “A contract about getting me pregnant.”
“What?” Bucky’s furious response is immediate. He shakes his head, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you might be making this up. “Y/N, what are you talking about?”
“Did you sign a contract agreeing to marry me, and agreeing that my parents get something after you get me pregnant?” The words make you sick to your stomach. You haven’t eaten anything all day, which doesn’t help, but the thought of Bucky agreeing to something so vile… It’s enough to make anyone nauseous.
He’s shaking his head at you again. “Why the hell would I sign anything like that? Do you really think I would do that?”
You shrug a little and look down at the bouquet. “My mother…”
“Darling…” Bucky sighs and comes closer, and he kneels down in front of you again, just like he had outside. All the fight and anger has left his voice. “I would never do anything like that. Not in a million years, and especially not to you. I love you.”
“She said you signed it before they’d even told me we were engaged,” you said, quiet now that he’s so close. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, to see what his face might be telling you that his words aren’t.
“Can you look at me? Please?”
Reluctantly, you lift your eyes from the flowers in your lap to meet Bucky’s eyes. They’re just as blue as the ribbons wrapped around the flower stems, a choice you’d specifically made without the wedding planner’s guidance. You’d wanted him to be your “something blue”, even if it felt a little cheesy.
“Do you want to marry me?” Bucky asks.
You swallow the lump in your throat and nod. “Yes.”
“Do you believe me when I say I had nothing to do with that contract? That I didn’t know it existed?” he questions.
You nod again, tears forming in your eyes.
“And do you trust me to help you find a way to get rid of it, once all of this is over? Do you trust me to protect you?”
You nod for the third time, and Bucky takes both of your hands in his.
“Okay. Then let’s get married, and I swear to you that as soon as our honeymoon is over, the guys and I will start doing some digging.”
“What about me?” you ask, sniffling. You pull one of your hands away to dab at your eyes before the makeup can get too damaged by your tears.
“What about you?”
“Can I dig, too?”
Bucky chuckles and kisses your knuckles on the hand that he’s holding, and then he pulls himself up off the floor to sit beside you on the bench. He pulls you into a half-hug and you cling to him, sniffling and smiling as he rubs the your back and answers,
“You can do all the digging you want, doll. I’ll even hand you the shovel.”
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Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil. = It’s good to see you.
Mo bhean chéile = My wife
Íosa Críost = Jesus Christ
Thick = A stupid person
Ifreann = Hell
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ramp-it-up · 10 days
Text
II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 
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Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)
Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?
Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Previous part here
-----------------
May 2024
“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”
When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.
“Butter-”
You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.
—---
Get out (LEAVE!)
Right now
It’s the end of you and me
It’s too late (NOW!)
And I can’t wait 
For you to be gone…
Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.
“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”
You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.
How could everything still hurt this much? 
Carla wasn’t having it.
“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”
Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.
You sighed.
“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.
“I just… Can’t…”
“So what just happened?”
Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.
“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”
“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”
Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.
“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”
“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”
You interrupted Carla.
“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”
“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”
You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.
But why? And what did it matter now? 
“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”
“I don’t have to do-”
Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:
“Teen drinking is very bad.”
Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:
“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”
The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.
One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...
…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.
This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.
—-----
Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 
Tonight was the night.
And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.
When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.
Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.
He wanted to fight with you. 
And he wanted to make it up to you. 
His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.
—---
You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.
I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now
You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.
Just like it did 20 years earlier. 
—---
May 2004
On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,
“You look amazing.”
You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.
Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.
You were caught up.
Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.
In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.
And Sy was right there with you.
“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 
He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.
“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”
Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.
You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.
“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”
You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.
“You’re right.”
Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 
“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”
You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.
“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”
You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 
Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.
“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”
You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.
“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”
You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.
You gasped.
“Sy!”
You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.
Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 
“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”
Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 
You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 
“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 
That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.
Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.
“What are you doing Sy….?”
All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.
“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 
He kissed your hand again. 
“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 
Those eyes held you in a trance.
“But one day, we won't be.”
“Oh, Sy…”
“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”
And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.
—-
May 2024
I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no
It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 
Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.
Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.
“You still wanna talk, Sy?”
Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 
“Ye– yeah.”
Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.
You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 
But he didn’t let go of your hand.
You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.
“So where we goin’, Sy?”
Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 
This huge, handsome, hairy man.
“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”
What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.
Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.
“Hm.”
Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 
And he didn’t.
“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”
Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.
But you were grown now. 
And so was Sy.
Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.
“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”
“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”
Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.
“I bet she missed you.”
Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Sy.”
Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 
“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 
Your cheeks heated at the compliment.
“Ok, Captain.”
Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 
He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.
When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.
Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.
—---
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antiquarianfics · 6 months
Text
Taken pt. 9
If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.
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a/n: screaming, crying, throwing up. i hope you guys enjoy this part as much as i do. also, sorry for the hiatus. i kind of got distracted with life. anyhoo. also. not proofed.
warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.
note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.
You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.
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previous part | series masterlist | next part
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“So, when you said a former agent, you meant…” Clint trails off, looking at Fury and Coulson for confirmation.
Bruce sits next to Tony, hands clasped underneath his chin in thought, eyes trained on the screen, analyzing it.
Coulson and Fury nod, but before anyone else can say anything, Bucky speaks.
“It’s Y/N.”
“Y/N’s alive?” Sam asks, but it’s mostly rhetorical. Fury and Coulson are the only ones who are not surprised.
“Agent Y/L/N-Barnes seems to be alive, yes. Of course, there is always the possibility that it’s a mask,” Coulson says.
“It has to be her,” Bucky mumbles to himself, focusing hard on the stilled image of you. He has believed you’re alive against all hope for months, and here you are, escaping Capital Hill.
“But if she’s alive, and if she’s the one killing U.S. politicians, then is she working with HYDRA?” Sam asks, anxiously eyeing Bucky.
Fury sighs, “We don’t know. All we know is that we need to stop her before word that an Avenger killed the president gets out.”
Bucky speaks up then.
“She’s not working for HYDRA. She wouldn’t do that.”
Tony sends Bucky a sympathetic look before playing devil’s advocate.
“We can’t know that. It’s out of character, but we never know how much HYDRA is truly capable of. They brainwashed you, so who’s to say they didn’t her?”
The room is tense, and Bucky is acutely aware that the team, his friends, are sympathetic. They’re sympathetic because they agree with Tony. Bucky shakes his head.
“That took years to program The Winter Soldier,” Bucky says cautiously, “and Y/N has a hell of a lot more to fight for than I did. If she’s working for HYDRA, then she’s playing an angle. Don’t you think it’s odd they let Bec go so easily? She had to have struck a deal.”
“Then why doesn’t she escape?” Natasha muses, but her tone tells Bucky she’s simply wondering aloud.
“Well, we wondered why she didn’t contact us through her phone,” Clint reminds. “Turned out she had a plan there; she led us right to the Siberian facility.”
Bucky shoots Clint an appreciative nod.
“Becca did say that they wanted her until Y/N struck a deal with them,” Steve remembers.
The room turns to look at him.
“We didn’t know what to do with that before now. We thought Y/N was dead, but if they faked her death, then that gets us off their backs to have her do what they want.”
“Still,” Sam says, “why not run?”
“They’re probably keeping a close eye on her. On us, even. She would run unless they have something to hold over her,” Natasha points out.
The team gets quiet for a while; everyone gets lost in their own thoughts.
Finally, Fury breaks the silence.
“We don’t know who else HYDRA is targeting, but we imagine there are more assassinations planned.”
“Alright, so, it’s settled,” Tony says.
The team had spent hours devising a plan to rescue Y/N, anxiously and meticulously going over every detail and turning over every rock.
The Avengers let out a breath they weren’t aware they were holding. At this point, as if on cue, however, Coulson enters the conference room he and Fury had vacated hours ago.
“Coulson?” Steve asks, eyebrows raising at the appearance of the agent.
Coulson nods in acknowledgement, a tight smile spreading upon his lips.
“Stark, can you pull up the security camera footage for the complex?” Coulson asks, staring at the screen showing your SHIELD ID photo, background, skill set, and a list of the crimes you’ve committed up to this point.
Tony nods, voicelessly tapping at the device in front of him, pulling up the cameras. The screen changes from SHIELD’s information on you to a split of each of the complex’s cameras. Coulson takes a step forward, staring at the screen, analyzing it for something the Avengers don’t see.
“Coulson?” Natasha speaks. “What exactly are we looking for?”
“That,” Coulson points at the third box from the right. Tony zooms in on the mentioned camera footage.
“Shit.”
“Get Bec out of here!” Bucky demands, picking Rebecca up and handing her to Sam as the complex’s alarm system sounds. Sam nods, holding the toddler close to his chest before running off to get her somewhere safe.
“Buck, what’s your plan here?” Steve questions.
Bucky ignores his friend, taking off running towards the roof of the complex. The security footage showed the intrusion on the northwest most part of the building.
“Buck!”
“I’m saving my wife,” Bucky grumbles, putting more power in his steps, launching himself faster ahead.
When Bucky makes it to the roof, he does not have to try too hard to find you. In fact, he notes that you’re startling easy to find.
“Honey, I’m home,” you say cheekily, waving a casual hand at your husband when he lays eyes on you for the first time in months.
“Y/N,” Bucky breathes out, taking a step forward.
You’re leaning against the wall that surrounds the perimeter of the roof, arms crossed.
“James.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“I don’t particularly believe you,” you say, eyeing the dark bags beneath his eyes and the tired demeanor he holds.
“You’ve been gone for months. We thought you were dead. It’s not been so pleasant.”
You hum, pushing off the wall and walking towards the man. You step up against him, resting a gentle hand upon his chest.
“Hmm,” you hum. “You’re not wearing a suit, you didn’t bring any weapons…” You allow yourself to trail off, watching carefully for a reaction.
He gives you a look. “You wouldn’t hurt me,” he says cautiously, but something about the situation feels off. He isn’t sure he believes the statement himself anymore.
You sigh and step away.
“You’ve heard, I’m sure, what I’ve been up to.”
“I have.”
“Not very on brand for me.”
“No.”
“Unfortunately, sweetheart, neither is what I’m here to do.”
“And what are you here to do?” Bucky feels anxiety creep up his chest.
“Marking 3 names off my list,” you say. “You’re not all that close to Captain America, are you?”
Bucky immediately clocks the question as odd. Not only is it weird that you’re addressing the murders you’ve committed as off brand, but to ask him about the only person from his past life as if he’s someone he met recently? To address Steve as Captain America? Bucky remembers the conversation the Avengers had recently, and he thinks you must be playing an angle, waiting for him to figure it out. He also knows your mannerisms better than his own, and he has never known you to speak so formally to him.
He feels a memory trying to come forward. A missing puzzle piece that would help him understand what’s going on.
You sigh, pulling Bucky away from his thoughts.
“I’m sorry, James, but I’m on a tight schedule, and I can’t hang out here all day. So, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a To-Do list.”
Bucky stands a little taller.
“Doll, I can’t let you cross out names on that list.”
“Sure you can, and you will.”
“Why would I do that?”
You pout. “Because you promised to support me in good and bad,” you say, referring to his wedding vows.
“I didn’t mean stand by while you murder the people closest to you.”
“Well, shit,” you say before you throw a right hook into Bucky’s jaw and sprint towards the stairs while he’s distracted.
Bucky clutches his jaw with his hand before standing up straight. He usually would have anticipated the punch, but this whole situation has thrown him. And you have a habit of getting him to let his guard down.
“Shit,” he says before taking off after you.
You manage to avoid Bucky for a while as you make your way through the compound, but he does catch up to you.
You lay eyes on Steve and you sprint in his direction.
“Y/N! What? Stop! You don’t have to do this!” Steve attempts to reason, holding his shield up to deflect a bullet you send flying his way. Steve notes it wasn’t hard to deflect, and he stores that information away for later. After all, SHIELD first took note of you for to your sniping ability. You don’t miss.
“Sorry, Rogers,” you say, shrugging. “I’m just a girl doin’ what a girl’s gotta do. Y’kno—Agh!”
You are cut off, letting out an unattractive yelp as you fall to the floor. It takes a moment to get you bearings, but you quickly realize Bucky had tackled you.
You fight back, but you allow Bucky to slide your gun away from you and across the floor.
“Y/N, stop!” Bucky begs, grabbing hold of your wrists with his metal hand and holding your arms taut while he holds your body down by straddling your torso.
You—to Bucky’s surprise—stop. Then, you raise an eyebrow as if to ask, “What do you want?”
“What are you doing? Killing the president? Trying to kill Steve? What’s your angle here?”
“Have you ever heard of Orpheus and Eurydice?” You ask.
Bucky gives you a look. Your question, after all, is out of left field. You ignore the look and continue.
“It’s a Greek myth. Orpheus and Eurydice are in love, right? But Eurydice does and is trapped in the Underworld. Well, Orpheus goes on a quest to get her back, and the only condition Hades gives him is that he doesn’t turn around on the way back out of the Underworld.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“If he turned around, Eurydice would be trapped in the Underworld forever, and she and Orpheus would never be together again. Never have a life together.”
“Y/N.”
“Orpheus turned around. I always thought that was stupid. I mean, I guess if you love someone, you’d want to turn around and check on them. Make sure they’re still there. But, on the other hand, if you love someone, and trust them…”
“You trust they’ll still be following you even if you don’t turn around,” Bucky finishes.
“Orpheus didn’t get a second chance to save Eurydice. Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid Orpheus would tell the humans all the secrets of the Underworld. Some versions say that the Muses kept his head, though, to sing songs forever. They managed to hear his voice even after he died.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Don’t turn around, James.”
“What?”
While Bucky is confused, distracted by your story, you wrench your wrists out from his grasp and thrust up with your hips. You manage enough momentum to swing Bucky off of you and you climb on top of him, switching positions.
“Well, my targets are gone,” you sigh, glancing down the hallway you had seen Steve run. You click your tongue and return your focus to Bucky, shaking your head slightly.
“Sorry, honey,” you say, knocking him out.
@just-henny y @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansqueen @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom
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feelmyskinonyourskin · 8 months
Text
Pink Roses [Fake Dating Trope]
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Fake Dating situation 1. Two characters pretend to date for some purpose such as social gain, only for real feelings to get involved at some point "Bucky asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend to keep his elderly sister happy. You’re just platonic friends/coworkers, what could possibly go wrong?"
Warnings: Lil’ bit of angst into a happy ending. Reader uses fem pronouns and is referred to as ‘girlfriend’. No use of y/n. Friends to lovers. Reader spends Christmas and Easter with Bucky but doesn’t necessarily celebrate them herself, but they are mentioned.
WC: 7,000 baby!!!! Kicking off the Trope De Sept event strong!
*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*
“Thank you for the flowers by the way, they are beautiful.” Rebecca sighed, playing with the pink petals of the roses in front of her
“Of course Rebecca,” you responded. “Bucky picked them.”
“Oh my, he has good taste. He gets you flowers right?”
“Oh…” her question caught you off guard.
Bucky had merely introduced you by name when you arrived with him to visit his sister for Christmas. You assumed he had warned her he was bringing a coworker, but she seemed to not have gotten the memo and thought your relationship with her brother was something else.
“All the time, Becca. Mom raised me right.” he said, giving you a playful wink as he did
It was a lie, but Rebecca didn’t catch on.
“See I knew my brother was a gentleman. Oh he is so lucky to have you in his life.”
You shot Bucky a curious look and he merely shrugged in response.
The reason you were there with him at all began a few days before, right before Christmas.
“Hey Bucky, just heading out. See you in the New Year!” you said, tying your scarf tightly around your neck, ready to leave the Avengers compound for the two week break from work.
“Hey yeah! Have a good winter break! You got any big plans?” he asked
“No. Keeping it quiet this year.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah I just…I got so sick of my family asking me the same thing and all my cousins flaunting engagement rings, and wedding plans, and ultrasounds, that I just don’t even bother going home for holidays anymore.”
“Oh yeah, I get it. You should meet my sister. I’m going to see her on Christmas and all she does is worry about me. She’s convinced I’m unhappy because I’m single. She literally tries to set me up with every new nurse they hire at her nursing home and I just know most of the Christmas dinner conversation is going to be asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”
“Oh gosh that sounds fun.” you said with a chuckle
“Hey if you don’t have any big Christmas plans, would you want to come with me? My sister loves company and we can even get takeout afterwards. You know, just so you don’t have to spend Christmas alone?”
“Bucky, that’s very sweet of you. I’d love to. Your sister sounds amazing. I can't wait to meet her.”
“Great. Yeah Rebecca’s a fun time. She’s 98 and still smart as a whip. You’ll love her!”
“Okay sounds like a plan.”
The Crown Heights Senior Living Center knew how to throw a Christmas party, with Rebecca Barnes leading the charge on the caroling group and Bucky helping her coordinate the gift exchange.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had such a fun time, with a group of octogenarians no less.
“Wow Rebecca! How did Bucky keep a pet racoon in the attic for a whole week without your mother noticing?”
“Well that old Brownstone we lived in was solid. They don’t build them like that anymore. The walls were so thick it took her a while to figure out where the scratching noises were coming from.”
“Yeah well she also got suspicious when I swiped an extra serving of her meatloaf and ran upstairs with it right after dinner.” Bucky chimed in
“Speaking of, Becs they’ll be serving your dinner soon and we’re getting hungry too.” Bucky said, standing and giving his sister a kiss on the forehead
“Darling, it was lovely to meet you.” Rebecca said to you, then turned to her brother “James, please bring your girlfriend around more often, she’s a treat.”
You and Bucky smiled at her and departed the room, making your way down the tinsel decorated hall.
“Awe, she thinks I’m your girlfriend!” you teasingly commented, playfully smacking his arm
“Yeah well, literally every time I visit, she’s trying to set me up with a new nurse they’ve hired and she’s always asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”
“I think it’s sweet.”
“Now when I come back to visit next week, she’s gonna ask about you and I’m gonna have to break her heart and tell her I’m still alone and destitute. I…” Bucky trailed off
“What?”
“It’s a dumb idea.”
“What is?”
“What if we… look this might be crazy but. Would you want to, you know, pretend to be my girlfriend? Just come with me to the nursing home every once in a while on like holidays and things? Just to keep my sister happy. I mean she’s 98 years old, there’s not a lot left going on in her life and I’ve literally never seen her more excited.”
“Okay. This is either going to go really well or really poorly. Either way I wanna see it. So yeah. Let’s do it.”
You saw Bucky at work nearly everyday in the New Year, exchanging pleasantries and making small talk like all coworkers do. At the beginning of February, he brought up his sister again, mentioning that she asked about you and asking if you’d like to join him to visit her again on Valentine's Day. You agreed.
Bucky gave your front door three knocks and you swung it open to greet him, still fiddling with the clasp on your necklace as you got ready.
“Hey, I’ll be ready in a few.” you said as he entered your apartment, stopping in your tracks as you noticed the bouquet he held in his metal arm.
Pink roses, just like the one’s he’d brought Rebecca at Christmas.
“Oh these are for you.” he said, noticing your gaze traveling to them
“For me? But…”
“Don’t worry I have another bouquet for Becca.” he said, pulling an identical bouquet from behind his back “But at Christmas I told her I got you flowers all the time, so I figured I actually should, you know, not be a liar.”
“Not be a… Bucky, we are quite literally about to go see her and lie to her a bunch! You know, about us.” you gestured between the two of you
Bucky laughed and shook his head.
“Fair, but why lie about one more thing? And besides, I think I owe you more than just a thank you for doing all this.”
“Fair.” you said, mimicking his tone and taking the bouquet from him
As you filled a glass vase in the sink and placed the roses in it, Bucky stepped behind you, grabbing the necklace from where you had placed it on the counter and wordlessly fastened it around your neck.
A chill ran down your spine as his fingers fiddled with the clasp, finally connecting it with the hook and pressing his palm against the back of your neck to lay it flat.
“Now I know you aren’t just spending such a romantic holiday just visiting an old lady. What are your plans? James, how are you romancing your lady today?”
You and Bucky looked at each other nervously. You hadn’t really discussed backstory or any other thing she might want to know about your relationship.
“I’ll tell you later Rebecca, don’t want to ruin any surprises!” Bucky finally spoke up, and you made a point to reach for his right hand, intertwining your fingers with his like any couple might and put on an excited look on your face for the non-existent Valentines plans. His palm was warm as he rubbed his thumb in delicate circles around your hand.
“Oh good! Well don’t let me keep you kids too long!” she exclaimed, shooing you out the door of her room
“Okay we really need to discuss more backstory and stuff before we come here. She’s asking too many questions.” he commented as you walked down the hall
“Bucky, maybe this is a bad idea. Your sister is so sweet and I feel bad lying to her like this.”
“Hey, look, she's happy because she thinks I’m happy. We can call this off if you want, but I really think it’d break her heart if I tell her we broke up. Please, just a few more visits? Just so she doesn’t think I’m totally alone.”
“But you are.”
Bucky shot you a look that you’d only ever seen when Sam got on his nerves.
You gnawed at your bottom lip and gave it some thought, Bucky’s blue eyes staring you down. “Okay. But we need to come up with more of a back story. Let’s go grab a cup of coffee and set some ground rules?”
“It’s a date.”
Your eyes went wide at the word date.
“Sorry. It’s a ‘platonic coworkers pretending to date’ not-date.” he said with a grin
“Fine, but you’re buying.”
“It’s Valentine's Day, it'd be absolutely ungentlemanly of me to not.”
The coffee shop around the corner was decorated for the occasion, with heart-shaped foil garland cascading from the ceiling and a cupid chalk drawing taking up a large portion of the menu board.
The barista topped your hot chocolate’s whipped cream with red and pink sprinkles and Bucky chuckled at the foam heart she drew into the top of his latte.
Every other table seemed to be occupied by couples, all looking gooey-eyed at each other and whispering sweet nothings across the small marble tables.
You were so busy taking in all the displays of love that Bucky had to clear his throat to get your attention, arms stretched out behind you reaching for your coat.
“Oh gosh sorry.” you said, shrugging out of it as he placed it on the hook on the wall and then pulled the wooden chair out for you to sit.
“Shit, your sister is right, you are a good boyfriend.” you said
Bucky rolled his eyes with a smirk and took his seat across from you.
“Okay.” you said, placing your palms on the table in front of you “ground rules.”
“Right, if you want to add a third to the bedroom, it has to be Sam. We made a pact a while back, it’s a long story but sorry it’s the only way...”
“Bucky!”
“Shit doll, sorry! I was kidding! I mean kind of, Sam and I did sort of agree…”
“Bucky!” you cut him off “Look if you don’t want to take this seriously, then fine I can just go and call it here. This is for you and your sister after all.”
“No, dammit I’m sorry, you’re right. Okay, go ahead.” Bucky replied
“Well we need to establish a backstory. And know a little more about each other so it doesn’t seem suspicious.”
“Okay. You go first. Ask anything you want to know about me.”
“Okay um. What’s your favorite color?”
“Really? You think what’s gonna make us not believable is whether or not you know my favorite color?” he looked at you in disbelief
“I don’t know! What else do couples know about each other?”
“Not sure. I haven’t dated regularly since 1943. It’s blue, by the way. What’s yours?” He responded
“Purple. Is that your usual coffee order?”
“In the winter, yes. In summer, I go for iced coffee.”
“Okay. Um. I guess it might be more important to have some facts about us. As a couple.”
“Right. Like what?”
“Well like where was our first kiss? Or our first date?” you asked
“In Central Park under the Cherry Blossoms. I’m romantic like that.”
“Bucky you told her we just started dating in the fall…”
“Fine, in Central Park under the orange leaves.”
“Who said I love you first?”
“You, obviously” he replied
That made you roll your eyes “Why is it obviously me?”
“Do I seem like the kind of guy to be open with his feelings?”
“No, you're the quietest on the team. It took four months of me working with the Avengers for you to return my good morning greeting everyday with even a nod of acknowledgement.”
Bucky raised his eyebrows as if to say “see I’m right”
“Fine. What’s the most romantic thing you've ever done for me?”
“Decorated your Christmas tree while you were at work.”
“I didn’t have a Christmas tree.”
“Well since all of this is pretend, let’s pretend you did.”
“Fine. While we’re on the subject, what did we get each other for the holidays?”
“I got you that necklace.” he nodded in your direction to the string of delicate pearls he helped you put on earlier. In reality, it’d been a gift you got yourself for your most recent birthday, but you were fine with the alternate story.
“Fine. I guess I got you a Frank Sinatra album for your record player.”
“How’d you know I have a record player?”
“Lucky guess.”
“Is it because I’m old?”
“I mean, yeah maybe…”
He sat back in his chair, looking thoroughly unamused.
“Since I know she’s going to ask next time you see her, what did you do to woo me on Valentine’s Day?” you asked
“Took you to a coffee shop and got you pink roses.” he gestured at the cafe around you, a proud smile on his face
“You know what, it’s actually the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.” you said with a grin
“See, I am good at this boyfriend thing. What else should we know?”
“What side of the bed do you sleep on?” you asked
“Trick question, neither. I sleep on the floor because of my nightmares.”
“Bucky thats…” you trailed off
“Hey, it's something my girlfriend would know.” Bucky said so casually, as if he had not opened up to you and revealed something incredibly sad and personal about himself.
“Right. Um… what else do you and Rebecca talk about? That way you can think of things to weave into conversation about us that make us seem real.”
“Honestly, we talk a lot about our childhood. She helps me remember a lot of things I’ve forgot thanks to the, ya know” he pointed to his head
You nodded in understanding.
“Anyway, like last week she told me a story I’d totally forgotten about the time Steve and I snuck into the movies and when we got caught, we pretended we didn’t speak English to avoid getting in trouble.”
You listened as Bucky shared more stories about his life in the 30s and 40s, eventually laughing so much and talking so long, the cafe employees had to ask you to leave so they could close up for the evening.
He rode the subway with you to your stop and even walked you to your door as if he were really your Valentine’s date. You felt much better about seeing Rebecca again, confident now that you and Bucky could convincably appear as a real couple after today.
By the time Easter rolled around, you’d established a solid back story and even hung out with Bucky a few times outside of your work relationship to get to know each other better. You always loved every visit with his sister and hanging out with him felt easy.
You were, however, very nervous when Mother’s Day came. You’d finally be meeting Rebecca’s children and grandchildren, all of whom loved their Uncle Bucky, but loved Rebecca even more.
“You seem nervous.” Bucky commented
You had been silent but fidgety the whole subway ride from your apartment to the nursing home. Bucky, of course, picked you up at your front door every time you met, even though it was out of his way from his place to the nursing home.
“I am.” you replied
“Why? Becs loves you. She’s excited to see you again.”
“Yes but I’m meeting everyone else and it’s making me anxious.”
“Why?”
“Because they love you and your sister a lot. I want them to like me”
“I like you so they'll like you.”
“Bucky, you’re only pretending to like me! I love your sister, but it feels a lot easier to trick one old lady than to trick a bunch of people at once into believing we’re real!”
“Okay. First, I do like you. I promise, that part is not pretend.” You know he just meant it platonically, but it still made you blush.
“Secondly,” he continued “Rebecca is the sharpest person I know, so if she’s convinced, then they will be too.”
“I’m still worried they’re gonna find out and kill me.”
“Hey” he reassured “They won’t find out and they won’t kill you and even if they try, like they’re gonna get past me.” he wiggled his metal fingers in your face.
“She hasn’t said anything right? Like she isn’t getting suspicious?”
“Doll, take a chill pill. Even if she figures it out, it’s on me not you. I’m her brother, remember?”
“I know but Bucky she’s been so sweet and nice to me and I adore her and I don’t want to let her down!”
“You won’t, now just relax.”
Rebecca’s son, Scott, had prepared a fabulous meal and as you all sat around a table in the community room of the nursing home eating, her daughter Kim gave a beautiful speech about how Rebecca taught her to be a great mom and how loved she was by the family.
Tears sprung to your eyes at just how loved and revered this woman was and how lucky you felt to know her, even if it was under the false pretense of being her brother’s girlfriend.
Bucky noticed you getting emotional and placed an arm around your back, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his hand in comfort as Kim continued to speak. You shot him a look of thanks and winked at him as you saw tears welling behind his eyes as well.
After dinner had been cleared and dessert had been served, you were locked in a pleasant conversation with Bucky’s grandniece Jenny.
“I don’t know, maybe I should change my major…”
“Well, you’re young. Lots of people take years to figure it out.” you replied
“Uh oh.” she exclaimed, pointing toward the door “Looks like you’ve got some competition.”
Bucky was standing in the hall, deep in conversation with one of the nurses, who was throwing her head back in fits of laughter at whatever he was saying to her, and playfully touching his arm.
“Well, you know Bucky, he’s just… friendly.” you shrugged it off, trying to not let the interaction bother you
Jenny gave you a quizzical look, knowing that was a bold-faced lie and Bucky was the most surly and quiet person either of you had ever met. Except around you and Rebecca, of course.
“So tell me more about your thesis,” you said, directing the conversation back and hoping to distract yourself from whatever it was Bucky was doing
The subway ride back to your apartment was mostly silent, which wasn’t abnormal for him, except all you could think about was the way that nurse was with him, and more importantly, how he was with her. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, how he had leaned into her touch everytime she placed a hand on his arm, how they had talked nearly the whole afternoon.
“So David told me he and Shelby are expecting.” Bucky said, finally breaking the silence
“David and …? Oh yeah, Scott’s oldest.” you said, still mentally trying to keep all of Bucky’s nieces, nephews, and their kids straight in your mind, having just met all of them in one go today.
“Yeah. Which means Rebecca is going to be a great-grandmother.” he continued
“Oh my gosh that’s right! That’s so great! Did they tell her?”
“Yeah. She was pretty excited. Then of course, she asked me when you and I are going to start…” he said
“Oh yeah? What did you say to her?”
“Told her we’d get to it eventually. That we were still enjoying being young and in love.”
“Bucky, you’re 106…”
A smile formed across his face and he shook his head.
“You know what I meant!”
“Well we’ll never fictitiously get around to it if you for-real flirt with nurses.” you snidely commented
“Ohhh not my pretend girlfriend pretending to be jealous!” he joked back
“I’m not jealous, Bucky, I’m just trying to keep up appearances. But I don’t blame you, she was cute.”
“Yeah she was.”
“Okay serious question, what if one of us gets into a real relationship?” you asked
“Why are you planning to?”
“No, I mean I wouldn’t complain, but I don’t exactly have any great prospects right now.”
“I don’t either.”
“Um, that nurse was absolutely a prospect.” you argued back
“Doll, will you drop it with the nurse already?”
“No. Look, if you want to be for-real happy and quit lying to your sister, I think you should ask the nurse out. This has been fun, but don’t let us pretending to date hold you back from an actual relationship.”
Bucky sighed and hung his head.
“Okay. When I visit Rebecca this week, I will ask the nurse out. Just to get you off my back about it.” he conceded
“Well just be sure to add in the fact that you have prospects lined up when you tell your sister we broke up, just to soften the blow.” you joked
“Wow, you make it sound like I have women out the door, just waiting in line for me.” Bucky joked
You could if you wanted, you’re a fucking catch, is what you wanted to say, but instead just chose to lightly chuckle at Bucky’s joke.
“I think I will wait and see if the nurse says yes and if she does, see how the date goes before breaking it to my sister. And if it goes bad, at least I still have you.”
“Wow, make a girl feel more special to be your backup plan, why don’t you?” you joked
“You know what I mean! Wait, you will still keep this up for me if the nurse says no right?”
You sighed.
“Yes. I’ve actually really been having fun spending time with your sister.”
And you, you wanted to add, but again, didn't.
“But I do want you to be happy, so I will sacrifice hanging out with the coolest 98 year old I’ve ever met if it means you get a for-real girlfriend and stop being a grumpy, lonely old man.”
“Thanks doll, you’re the best.”
Things at work got hectic that week and you didn’t see Bucky until midway through the next week.
You were sitting at your computer, combing some case files when Bucky snuck up behind you.
“So things got complicated…”
“Jesus, Bucky, don’t scare me like that!” you said, practically jumping out of your seat when he spoke
“Sorry!”
“Wait, complicated how?”
“Well I asked the nurse out. And she said yes. And apparently it was the hot topic in the nursing home all weekend. And my sister asked why I was two-timing you. So I had to tell her we broke up.”
Your heart sank at the thought of not hanging out with Bucky and Rebecca anymore.
“Okay. Well, we knew that might have to happen. And the nurse?”
“Her name is Maddie, by the way. And we went out last night.”
“And?”
“It went well. She was nice and it was fun and we’re going to go out again this weekend.”
“Bucky, that’s great. I’m really happy for you.” you replied, trying to truly mean it and push your own feelings towards the situation aside.
But your mind just raced with worry about how well it actually went. Did he mean it went well like it was an agreeable evening and they talked a few hours and went their separate ways? Or did he mean it went well like she got to find out if his lips were as soft as they actually look? It went well like they hooked up and had steamy sex and she got to feel how his toned muscles felt under her hands while he brought her to ecstasy the way you’d always imagined and … no. You needed to stop. It was a bad idea to think about him that way. Especially since he now belonged to someone else, and never really belonged to you in the first place.
“Doll, I really can’t thank you enough.” Bucky spoke and broke you out of your spiraling thoughts “Rebecca had so much fun with you and you know… I think pretending to date you might have actually given me the confidence to ask Maddie out. Don’t know if I thought I could be a good real boyfriend without being a good fake one first.”
You laughed and shook your head.
“Well I’m happy to have helped. And by the way, yeah you were a phenomenal fake boyfriend. Better than most of the real ones I’ve had.”
You tried not to let the tears come to your eyes that you could feel brimming to the surface. You were just sad to say goodbye to Rebecca, that’s all. She was so special and spending time with her was a gift. It helped that Bucky was also so charming and funny, but it was absolutely just about Rebecca. Afterall, you’d still get to see Bucky at work. You wouldn’t really talk as in-depth as when you were with his sister and hanging out in service of keeping up the lie, but it would be fine.
However, much to your disappointment, it seemed like after that conversation, Bucky avoided you like you two had actually been a couple and actually broken up. He wouldn’t look you in the eye during mission briefings, wouldn’t say more than two words to you and they were always related to work, and if he ever found himself alone in a room with you, he quickly found an excuse to leave.
It had been about two months since you had “broken up” and you had given up hope of even having any sort of friendship with Bucky. But the truth was, you missed him. You missed making fun of him when he made a reference so outdated, historians wouldn’t even get it. You missed the way his smile rose more on his right side when you’d crack a joke. You missed when he’d sing along to one of Rebecca’s records and try to dance with both you and her at the same time, inevitably spinning you into each other and ending in the three of you in a fit of giggles.
You tried not to think of it though, threw yourself into work and tried to forget. But you couldn’t. Everything reminded you of him.
And you tried not to think about how much you missed him as you watched him walk onto the ramp of a quinjet, prepping to take off for a ten day mission to take down a Hydra base in Latvia.
Six days later, you were in your apartment, making your evening cup of tea when your phone rang.
You picked it up and put it down three times before finally processing that it was Bucky’s name popping up on the screen. With the time zone difference, it had to at least be three in the morning where he was.
“Bucky?” you finally answered “Is everything okay?”
“No. Doll, it’s not.”
“What happened? Are you okay? Is Sam okay? Did something go wrong?” you panicked, knowing of all the hundreds of people the Avengers employed, you were not the person to call if something went wrong with the mission.
“No, it’s Rebecca. She um…” Bucky sounded on the verge of crying and your heart broke in an instant “Kim called and Rebecca is in the hospital. I didn’t get all the details, but it’s not good.”
“Bucky, I’m so sorry.”
“Listen, I know I’ve already asked so much of you, but can you please… Can I ask you to go for me? Go see her? Sam and I are trying to wrap up as quick as we can, but I just can’t bear the thought of not being there with her and she loved you so much and I know you being there would really mean a lot to both of us.”
You had never heard Bucky ramble like that before. His voice was shaky and unsure and it broke your heart.
“Okay. Of course I can go.” you replied without hesitation. You loved Rebecca too, of course you wanted to be with her.
“Thank you. So much. Really. I’ll text you the room number and the hospital. I’ll let Kim and Scott know you’re coming too.”
“Okay.”
“And um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For how it’s been lately.”
“Bucky, It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. But um, we can talk more when I get back.”
“Okay. I’ll go see her now, just text me.”
You were pulling on your shoes already when Bucky’s text came through. You were out the door and to the hospital in less than twenty minutes.
Kim greeted you with a big hug when you arrived.
“Oh, she’ll be so excited to see you!” Kim said, leading you down the hall of the hospital towards Rebecca’s room “You know, she still talks about you all the time even though you two broke up a while ago.”
You tried to bite back a smile, not wanting to feel happy in such a grim situation. But knowing at least Rebecca missed your presence and made sure Bucky didn’t forget you lightened your mood just a little.
Any hint of a grin was knocked off your face as soon as you stepped in the room. Rebecca was looking quite different from when you last saw her. Usually so healthy and spry for her age, she looked frail in the thin hospital gown, laying limply in the bed in the middle of the sterile room. Her gray curls were not in their usual coiff, but unkempt and wild. Her eyes looked sallow and dull. But her beautiful smile still came through when she saw you walk into the room.
“Oh my dear!” she reached out a shaky hand toward you. “It is so good to see you!”
Her hand wrapped around yours and she patted it a few times.
“How have you been? Oh, I’ve missed you! You know I was just saying to James the other day, it was a shame he let such a gem like you go.”
“Rebecca, that’s very kind, but how are you? Are you resting? Are you feeling better?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I was fine, but the nurses at the home, they called an ambulance and made me come here!”
“Mom, you passed out and your heartbeat was at 22 bpms!” Kim interjected
Rebecca waved her hand, then turned back to you.
“Where is James? Did you come with him?” she asked
“No. He’s away on a mission, but he’ll be here as soon as he can. He asked me to come see you until he could get here.”
“Oh that’s so kind of you. You know, he really loved you. I could see it every time he looked at you and every time I’d ask about you he’d talk and talk. I told him to hold on to you, but, well my brother never wants to listen to me!”
“Mom!” Kim interrupted again and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Even in this state, Rebecca’s personality was still shining through.
You caught up a little more, filling Rebecca and Kim in on your life since you last saw them.
Finally, Rebecca’s eyes kept closing mid-sentence and you and Kim left her to get more rest.
As you and Kim walked down the hall of the hospital together, she filled you in more on Rebecca’s health and explained that Scott and Jenny were also taking shifts visiting, currently hanging out in the waiting room down the hall.
“Sweetie, it’s getting late, let me give you some money so you can get a cab home.”
“No, Kim, I’ll stay here with you guys tonight.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Please? Just until Bucky calls again. Maybe by morning we’ll have a better idea of when he’ll be back.”
Kim nodded and gave your arm a light squeeze in thanks.
The waiting room was small and featured dated furniture and peeling wallpaper set under the glow of harsh fluorescent lights. Scott was asleep, curled in an uncomfortable position in a chair in the corner. Jenny flashed you a tired smile as you entered. You sat on one of the worn couches and laid your head back, attempting to drift off into sleep.
The night was rather restless, dozing in and out, but never really getting pulled into sleep fully. Between the buzz of hospital employees rushing about, the cramped sleeping arrangement, and the worry chewing in the pit of your stomach about both Rebecca and Bucky, it was far too difficult to get solid rest.
Would Rebecca be okay? How would Bucky act towards you when he got back? Would things go back to being friendly between you as a thanks for being there for his family or would he simply continue to ignore you and act as though this also didn’t happen?
You must have finally gotten to sleep, because you were pulled out of slumber by a metal hand squeezing yours and a soft calling of your name by a familiar voice.
Your eyes shot open to find Bucky, crouched down in front of you, face meeting yours as he gently woke you. Despite the exhaustion painted on his face, he was a radiant light in the otherwise dim environment.
“Bucky!” you sat upright and pulled him into a tight hug
“Hey Doll.” he said, squeezing you so tightly you thought you’d burst like a can of Pillsbury Crescent Rolls.
“How did the mission go? When did you get back? Have you been in to see your sister yet?” you asked
Bucky shook his head.
“We can talk about the mission later. Thank you so much for being here.”
“How is Rebecca?” you asked
“I… um. I don’t know. I just got here and came to see you guys first.” he nodded toward the sleeping forms around you.
“You should go see her. Hopefully she got plenty of rest over night.”
Bucky shook his head some more.
“I don’t know if I can… she’s the last thing I have of my old life. I don’t know if I can bear to see her like that.”
“Bucky, she needs you. She wants to see you, she asked where you were last night.”
Bucky sighed, wetness welling in his worn blue eyes.
“I’ll go with you.” you volunteered
“Doll, you’ve already done so much. I can’t ask another thing of you.”
“Please, Bucky, I want to be there for you. And for her.”
He nodded and took your hand in his flesh one, helping you off the couch and not letting go as you walked down the hall together towards Rebecca's room.
She was sitting upright in bed and her face lit up at the sight of you and her brother, nearly spilling the applesauce the nurses brought her for breakfast into her lap.
Bucky finally let go of your hand, giving his sister a hug much more gentle than the one he gave you.
“Oh James, you know you didn’t have to rush away from work just to come see me!”
“Becca, yes I did!” he smiled
“Well, your girlfriend had things covered here.” she gestured towards you
“Oh, Becs no, we’re not back together.” Bucky explained
“Oh? But why not?” Rebecca asked
“It's not important right now. What’s important right now is getting you healthy.”
Rebecca smiled and shook her head.
“James, it is important right now. I’ve lived a lot of years and I’ve learned the most important thing in life is holding the ones you love close to you. I learned that when my big brother ‘died’ at war. I learned that when my children grew up too fast and moved away. I learned that with every grandchild born and held in my arms. And I learned that when you came back into my life after so many years.”
“Rebecca…” Bucky spoke, but she held up her hand to cut him off.
“I don’t know why you two broke up or what happened. But what I do know is how much the two of you clearly love each other. Look, James, I’m old. I know I don’t have much time left. But you, you have a life to live still and running away from the good things is not what your baby sister wants for you.”
“Rebecca, this is a conversation for her and I and another time.” Bucky argued
“You know for being my older brother, you sure aren’t wiser than me.”
“Wow, even sick in the hospital, still trying the younger sibling thing.” Bucky joked back
A knock at the door took the three of you from the conversation as a cheery nurse stepped inside the room.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need to run a few tests the doctor ordered. It’ll only take a little while.” he explained.
Bucky sighed and gave his sister a kiss on her temple, then gestured for you to step out with him.
Once in the hall he finally broke down completely, the stress of the past few days catching up to him.
You cradled his head in your arms as he sobbed, knowing the longer the two of you stayed like this, the longer you could put off having a conversation.
“Can we go for a walk?” he asked, finally calm enough to stand and wipe the tears from his eyes
You nodded and took his hand again, leading him out to the front of the hospital into the sunshine.
A few open benches along the sidewalk provided a place for the two of you to sit. Still, it took a few minutes for Bucky to finally speak up.
“I’m sorry I let it get like this between us.” Bucky mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear.
“Bucky, please. We don’t have to do this right now. You should be worrying about your sister, not me.”
“No, Doll, Rebecca’s right.”
“Yeah?”
“About everything.” he nodded his head “About life. About us. But don’t tell her I said that, or she’ll never let me live it down.”
You giggled.
“I wanted it to be real. Not at first, but after a while. When she tells you a story about us as kids and you smile at me the way you do. Or when your eyes light up when I make up a lie about the latest romantic thing I did. I wanted it all to be real. And I still do.”
“I wanted it to be real too.” you confessed “But if you wanted that, then why did you not just ask me out for real instead of Maddie?”
“Because, like Rebecca said, I was running away from the good things. I was scared that after everything I’ve been through, no one would stick around knowing all of that about me. But then you did, and it scared the hell out of me. And I wasn’t sure if I was reading it all wrong. Asked Maddie out as an excuse to push you away. I thought maybe avoiding you would make me get over it, but it didn’t, it just made me miss you.”
“And Maddie?”
“We went on a few dates and it was fun, but of course, I kept her at a distance. Didn’t want to let her in like I did with you. So she broke it off with me after a while.”
You chuckled and shook your head.
“You know, the leaves in Central Park aren’t quite orange yet, but it’s still a nice time of year for a first date there.”
“Yeah. It is. For real this time?”
“For real this time.” you agreed “But let’s worry about getting Rebecca healthy first.”
“I bet if we go up and tell her we’re back together, she’ll run out of that room and steal a cab just to make sure we make it to Central Park today.” he joked
You softly pressed your lips against his, feeling him melt into your kiss as the tension between the two of you these last few months finally evaporated.
When you finally pulled apart, you realized now you were the one crying, relieved that things between the two of you worked out.
Rebecca was released from the hospital a few days later, new medication bringing her health back into balance and making her as vivacious as ever. She was even well enough to join you and Bucky in Central Park for your 8th date, though she didn’t know that, as you and Bucky decided it was best not to tell her about the lie even now. And of course, when Bucky and Rebecca stepped out of the cab on 5th Avenue, he held two bouquets of pink roses in his hands.
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magnetothemagnificent · 2 months
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In honour of Bucky Barnes's birthday, here are *some* my Jewish Bucky headcanons....
Comics (616) Bucky:
-His mother was Jewish and when she died, his father, Jim, tried his best to keep him and Becca connected to his heritage, but it was hard given they were always traveling with the army and there was no stable Jewish community for them to be involved in. Bucky would get bullied for being Jewish on the army bases and got involved in a lot of fights because of this.
-Bucky was severely affected mentally by encountering the Holocaust firsthand and held resentment against the rest of the Allies for not doing more to help. He would often go off on unauthorized missions alone or with Toro to infiltrate Nazi bases and camps.
-When the Cosmic Cube returned his memories, the first place Bucky went after Camp Lehigh was his mother's grave.
-His Hebrew name is Yaakov Baruch
-He didn't get a Bar Mitzvah as a kid because his father died before he could make sure he'd have one, and the army didn't care about keeping Bucky connected to his Jewish identity. During the New Avengers era when Bucky had taken up the Captain America mantle, Peter Parker and Billy Kaplan arranged for Bucky to finally have his Bar Mitzvah.
-(This one isn't a headcanon it's just fact) His Hebrew birthday is Purim 5685.
MCU Bucky:
-His parents both immigrated to the United States from Romania and happened to meet each other after they immigrated. He grew up in a moderately observant family and spoke Yiddish at home. He has three younger sisters. He learned how to box after he'd get beaten up for being Jewish, so he could defend himself.
-He was specifically targeted for experimentation and torture at the Kreichsberg Munitions Factory because he was Jewish. Even though he marked "P" on his dog tags for safety, they could still see that he was circumcised. Before he was taken away for experimentation, he helped the other prisoners by translating the German the guards used, by using his Yiddish background.
-His Hebrew name is Yaakov Shimshon. After he was supposedly killed in 1945, his sisters started a tradition of naming their firstborn child after him, either with the name "Yaakov" specifically or a name starting with "J" in English and Yud in Hebrew.
-He is naturally left handed but learned to use his right hand proficiently. Because of this, he didn't have to adjust which arm he put Tefillin on after he lost his left arm.
-When he gets really flustered, anxious, or excited, he starts speaking Yiddish and forgets how to speak English.
-(not a headcanon just fact) His Hebrew birthday is Adar 16, 5677
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fangirlfrom-hell · 5 months
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Letter to Santa || Jay Halstead x Halstead Sister
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This ended up being something totally different from what I had planned.
“Guess what I have for homework today, mommy!”
“What do you have for homework today, hunny?” Mrs. Halstead looked at her daughter through the rearview mirror with a wide smile.
“My letter to Santa!” She screamed excited from her baby chair.
“Oh! That’s so exciting!” She was somehow relieved, since she was struggling on finding a present for her youngest. This was the perfect opportunity to know what she actually wanted. “And what are you going to ask Santa to bring you?”
“Uh-uh, not gonna tell. It’s a secret!”
“A secret? You can’t have secrets with me, I’m your mommy!”
“Yea, right”, The baby worried, “But…I want it to be a surprise!” She said a bit saddened.
“A surprise for me? But it’s your present not mine!” Mrs. Halstead stayed quiet, wondering a few minutes, she’d have to try again later.
"Well, in that case, I have a surprise for you!” She resumed the conversation with lots of emotion in her tone.
Becca opened her mouth with excitement, “A surprise?”
“Yes, and you are going to love it”
“Give me a clue!”
“Can’t, you’ll guess it right away”
But the girl wasn’t satisfied and she begged, “Mommy!”
“Think about what you wish the most right now, that’s all I’m saying”
“I know what I wish”, she muttered, “But that can’t be”
Becca’s belly started to hurt when her mom parked the car in the garage. She was nervous to know what the surprise was, the little girl knew it couldn’t be what she wanted, but was still clinging to hope.
“Wait here and close your eyes”, her mommy ordered, “No cheating!”
The girl shut her eyes as tight as she could, trying to go against the uncertainty of opening them. She could hear a los of noices, some quiet laughing, muttering, the front door opening and steps.
“Ready?” Mrs. Halstead was obviously nervous, “You can open them now!”
"JayJay!" Tiny Becca screamed her lungs out when she saw her brother coming out of the house in his soldier uniform. Eagerly, she tried to untie her belt, but failed to do so. Laughing, her big brother approached to help. As soon as she was untied, she climbed into his arms and hugged him with all of her strenght, climbing from his neck. From the distance, their mother was recording the moment.
“This is just what I wanted”, all the girl’s emotions translated into a hard sobbing.
“Then why are you crying?” Jay finally spoke, wiping away her tears. She just shrugged.
Mrs. Halstead, also with watery eyes, came close to Jay and Becca, who’s head was now resting on her brother’s chest; he managed to hug them both.
“We should go inside”, he said avoiding to join the chorous of crying too.
There was a welcome cake for Jay that day and Becca couldn’t separate from him for the rest of the day, she was scared he’d disappeared from her life again. She was asking questions and telling him all she had done during his absense. It was time to sleep, but Mrs. Halstead didn’t have the heart to send her to bed. The little girl resisted as much as she could, until her eyes slowly began to close and she fall asleep in the couch, hugging her brother’s arm.
“I need your help, Jay”, his mother said when they were alone in the kitchen. He got scared. “I need you to help me find out what Becca wants for Christmas”
“Oh!” He was relieved, “Why don’t you just ask her?”
“I’ve tried millions of times, but she says she doesn’t want anything. She’s now saying she wants it to be a surprise for me”
“Hm”, he frowned.
“She knows something, for sure” All of the family had tried to hide Mrs. Halstead illness, but the little one was perceptive and she had sensed something was wrong.
“Why don’t we just get her a generic doll or something?” Her son proposed ignoring that last coment, “She’s not that difficult, she’d love that”
Mrs. Halstead stopped what she was doing and stared at her son, a gaze that made him feel shivers down his spine.
“This has to be her perfect Christmas, Jay”
“Mom…”
“No, don’t say a word. You know that”
An intense silence filled the room, they stayed in their places without moving and avoiding eye contact.
“Okay, I’ll talk with her tomorrow” He concluded.
The next afternoon, Jay sat at Becca’s tiny desk to help her do her homework.
“I don’t know how to write, so I am going to draw what I want for Christmas and we’ll send the letter to Santa at school” The youngest Halstead explained as she started to work on it.
“Cool. So…what are you going to draw”
“Uh-uh, it’s for Santa, not for you”
“Hold on a second, but I’m your brother, you always tell me everything”
“Are you sad?” She stopped.
“Because you don’t want to share it with me? A bit, yea”
Becca leaved the colors down and leaned her elbows on the table, toughtful.
“I am so sorry, Jay. I love you, but just can’t let you know, ‘cause you’ll tell mom”
Now he was very intrigued. He helped her cut and decorate the envelope, leaving it opened on purpose.
“Ok, got the letter”, Jay showed it to his mother later on the day. Carefully, she opened it and smiled to the drawings and glitter decorations. She stared at it for a while, caressing it as if she was looking at her own daughter, thinking about all she would miss from her if her threatment didn’t go well.
“This all is really cute, but I can’t understand a thing”, She felt hopeless.
Her son analized the drawings, there were some squares and rectangles with what he tought were letter on them, but didn’t have a clue on what they might say. He the pointed to a stick figure with orange curly hair, “That’s Will, for sure”
She sighed, “Well that present is going to be impossible”
“Hey”, Jay tenderly hugged his mother, “I know this is important for you. I’ll find out, don’t worry. I’ll work on that”
But she felt guilty of putting this pressure over him, knowing he had his own struggles after war, “No, son. You already have a lot to deal with”
“But this is more important”, he meant it.
On Monday morning it was Jay who took Becca to school and picked her to take her home. On their way back, they passed by to get a milkshake, the first step of his plan to gather information out of her. He let the car parked and she moved to the front seat.
“Don’t tell mom I led you had it before dinner”, he threatened her while she was sipping the beverage without a pause. She raised her pinky to make the promise, he followed her game. “And stop it or else your brain will freeze”
“Ok, now that we’re here I have something to tell you. Bad news”
“Oh, oh! Did I do something wrong?” She worried.
“No…well, it depends on how you see it”
“What!?”
“I got a letter from Santa, it was your letter, actually” Becca swallowed hard. “He returned it because he didn’t understand what you asked him for”, Jay explained.
The little girl’s heart was pounding hard and her big round eyes looked like glass, “My drawings were bad? but I did my best, it’s just that I don’t know how to write words!”
“I know”, He was now regretting what he tought was a good plan.
His sister was now having trouble to breath, her concern scalated quickly, “He understands our drawings, that’s what my teacher said! She lied!”
“No, no, no, Beccs it’s alright, there’s a way to solve it, I’m gonna help you solve it”
But his little sister wasn’t listening anymore, as she started to despair in a way he had never seen her before, “Now momma’s— not going to— receive her me— medicine and— it’s all my— foult”. That being said, she exploded in an uncontrolabble bawling.
“What?” Jay felt terrible for making her feel so bad, but he had no idea it would end that way. The girl was now angry and sad, she started to kick the seat. She was usually so calmed, he had never seen her like that, but this was not a tantrum, this was something else.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Jay tried to help her breath, it took a while for the little girl to regain control over herself and it was until that moment that she led her big brother hold her. He was scared, “What happened?”
But she just moved her head. By her body language, it was obvious how devastated she was, on top of all, she was feeling stupid.
“Don’t call yourself that”, he said calmly.
Some tears were still rolling down her cheeks, “But is my foult!”
“What is it?”
“That mommy’s not getting her medicines for Christmas”
It took few seconds for Jay to connect the dots, that was the surprise and the reason she didn’t want anybody to know what she asked Santa. Becca wanted her mother’s medication to make her feel better.
A lot of toughts came into Jay’s mind, “How do you know she needs them?” She wasn’t supposed be aware of that.
“I heard daddy saying they were expensive and that he was going to work double to pay them. It takes the pain away”
A deep silence invaded the space between them, for Jay it was painful, for Becca was filled of uncertainty.
“Is she sick?” She asked not really understanding the meaning of her question.
Jay ignored it, “You don’t need to give up for your present and you shouldn’t worry about adult things, ok? Santa wouldn’t like that”
“But is she—"
“I know you are worried for what you heard dad said, but everything’s going to be fine” His smile carried a bit of sadness. “What you did was very kind, Becca, really. But I’m sure mom would be happier if you get a present for yourself”
“You think?”
“I know”, but his little sister wasn’t convinced. “I will get the medicine, I promise”
“You have the money?”
“I’ll…I’m working on it”
Jay passed a napkin to her so she could dry her face, she was finally feeling better. While his sister was recovering and finishing her milkshake, he was questioning himself if he should let her mother know about this or if he should keep it a secret.
“I wanna go home with mommy” Little Becca yawned. After all this strange conversation, all she wanted was to hug her.
There was no more evidence of her turmoil, so Jay started the car, “Yea, we’re good to go”
“I want Will for Christmas”, Becca stated on the way back home.
That made Jay get mad towards their eldest brother. He should be at home, if he was able to come back, Will had it easier, it was just that he didn’t wan to, “I don’t— I don’t think Santa can make that happen”, he tried to be still.
“Oh” She shaded.
“What if you ask for something only for you? Like a toy. Isn’t there a toy or game you’d like to have?”
“I’ll think about it”
Their mother received them in the front door, Becca hurried to give her a tight hug, “I love you, mommy!” She smiled.
“Did she tell you?” Mrs. Halstead asked later when they were alone, she was getting a bit anxious, “We’re running out of time”
Jay hesitated, he knew he had to tell his mother about the letter, but it wasn’t the right moment, “Sort of, but I’m getting close”
In that moment, Becca entered the living room where her brother and mother were talking, she was holding a sheet with her both hands, and a box of colors under her armpit “I need your help”
“What is it, hunny?”
“I did my letter again, only drawings, but can you two help me with letters? I want Santa to understand this time”
Her brother peeked into the sheet and once he made sure there were no medicine boxes drawn on it, he smiled wide “Sure”
The little girl placed her materials on the coffee table and sat in the middle, “I want mommy to do it”
“Ok, so what do you want?” She prepared herself to start writing.
“I know what you said”, Becca talked to Jay, “But this is Will again. I gotta try” She pointed to a stick figure and with a pang in the heart, their mother wrote her son’s name under.
The woman pointed to a crooked drawing, “Ok, and what’s this?”
“That’s a doll that can talk and eat and closes her eyes to sleep”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. I have seen those on TV” Jay mentioned outloud, but the comment was mostly for his mother, who nodded with relief. A sense of comfort finally filled the space.
“All of my friends at school have one of these, but they cost money” Jay frowned, it made him feel something strange to realize how his young sister was so aware of her context, he wished it wasn’t like that.
“That’s something you should’t worry about…”, her mother stroked her hair, “…because Santa is going to make it for you”
“Yas! That’s what I tought” Becca smiled.
“Now…”, their mom continued, “What about movie night?”
“I’ll make popcorn”, Jay stood up and during all the time he spent in the kitchen, he tought and planned how to raise enough money for the medicine and the doll in such little time.
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beccalendsahand · 1 year
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I posted 63 times in 2022
11 posts created (17%)
52 posts reblogged (83%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@lunarharp
@fayegumi
@chocopetite
@ihateornithologists
@royalavera
I tagged 58 of my posts in 2022
Only 8% of my posts had no tags
#artspiration - 40 posts
#takarazuka - 36 posts
#digital art - 19 posts
#fanart - 10 posts
#baddy - 7 posts
#takarazuka revue - 5 posts
#elisabeth - 5 posts
#elisabeth das musical - 5 posts
#yuzuka rei - 5 posts
#my translations - 4 posts
Longest Tag: 109 characters
#ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Flower Troupe Survey! The Best of Yuzuka Rei (PART 2)
The Troupe Survey is a current segment in the TakarazukaGRAPH magazine in which each month a different troupe is given a survey on their Top Star and a selection of their answers are printed in the magazine. There are 4 parts to this article: 1. The things about (Top Star) that have made a big impression on us 2. Stage: Shows or scenes which have stayed in our hearts 3. We want to see (Top Star) as a… 4. The (Top Star) Awards (The Top Star gives out special awards to troupe members)
As this article is so long I will be publishing the translation in parts! You can read part 1 here Part 2 is under the cut!
Part 2: Stage - What Shows or Scenes have remained in your heart?
1st place, 23 votes: “Boys over Flowers” (2019)
Miharu Ayu: The fight scenes she has against Sakurako (played by Oto Kurisu) and Rui (played by Seino Asuka). I always love seeing Yuzuka in fight scenes but this show was extra special because they were staged as fistfights, which is pretty rare for Takarazuka and made the otokoyaku even more masculine! Seeing her using her whole body to protect Tsukushi (played by Shoroki Mirei) really moved me.
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Takasho Mizuki: Domyouji (Yuzuka)’s dance during the song Metamorphoses. I have no other words for it other than that it’s the definition of coolness.
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26 notes - Posted January 18, 2022
#4
Flower Troupe Survey! The Best of Yuzuka Rei (PART 3)
The Troupe Survey is a current segment in the TakarazukaGRAPH magazine in which each month a different troupe is given a survey on their Top Star and a selection of their answers are printed in the magazine. There are 4 parts to this article: 1. The things about (Top Star) that have made a big impression on us 2. Stage: Shows or scenes which have stayed in our hearts 3. We want to see (Top Star) as a… 4. The (Top Star) Awards (The Top Star gives out special awards to troupe members)
As this article is so long I will be publishing the translation in parts! You can read part 3 under the cut!
Part 3: We want to see Yuzuka Rei as a…
First Place, 9 votes: A Teacher
Haryu Mitsuki: In rehearsals, I often see her politely teaching Madoka (Hoshikaze Madoka, Top Musumeyaku) and giving advice to the younger actresses in a soft and gentle voice. So I think that if she was a teacher she would pick up on her students' weaknesses and kindly teach them how to overcome them! And maybe during break time, she’d play dodgeball and other games with her students?!
Tsubasa Anju: If Yuzuka was my teacher I would give it my all and study so that she would give me her praise! And I would never sleep during class (laughs).
Yuzuka’s Comment: Being a school teacher must be a very hard job to do, but maybe if I could teach something completely unrelated to the performing arts it would feel like a hobby. For example, how much I enjoyed history classes at school always depended on what period was being taught. Also, I always found it exciting how the structure of each class would change based on the period we were studying. So I think it would be fun if I could teach with some pizazz like they do in high school dramas and films.
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Second Place, 8 votes: A Pilot
Hina Ririka: I’d have heart-eyes if I saw her as a handsome pilot!!! She would definitely be the number one most popular of them all!!
Serina Ei: When I saw her on the national tour pulling along her case as she walked, I thought she would definitely look amazing wearing a pilot's uniform and pulling a carry-along suitcase!!
Yuzuka’s comment: It would be cool to have an impressive job like that wouldn’t it? I’ve often thought about how wonderful it would be to speak fluent English and get to go back and forth between loads of different countries like international flight attendants do. I haven’t done anything to qualify for a job like that though! (laughs)
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27 notes - Posted February 1, 2022
#3
Toho Elisabeth 2022: Der Tod Comparision Analysis
After years of being a fan, I finally had the opportunity to see Elisabeth live for the first time this autumn. Me and a friend managed to defeat the odds and nab tickets for not just one but two dates, each with a different Der Tod (It's customary for most Toho musicals to have double, triple, or sometimes quadruple casts of its principal characters in their musicals). It was such a fantastic opportunity to see different actors' interpretations of such an iconic character, and seeing as the last Toho-beth was not filmed and previous recordings have not included every cast member, I thought I'd write up a report here for those curious!
Both Tods, Furukawa Yuta (Silver Tod) and Yamazaki Ikusaburo (Purple Tod) brought new and interesting things to the character that I’m really excited to discuss!
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40 notes - Posted November 10, 2022
#2
ZuCasino, Yuzuka Rei: October 2022
Long time no translations! It's been a busy year but I finally found the time to finish an interview that I really really love, I hope you are able to understand more about Rei with this sweet Q&A! ZuCasino is a current segment in Takarazuka Graph magazine where prominent otokoyaku get interviewed via a series of casino-style games and questions. October was with Yuzuka Rei. I've tried something a little different this time around where the first time an actress's name is mentioned I link her takawiki page. I've also done translation notes as I go rather than putting them all at the end. Let me know if you find this helpful or just too much. Without further ado, enjoy!
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Part 1: Episode Roulette
We challenged Yuzuka Rei to play our Episode Roulette game!
(Rei has been given a roulette wheel, each section has a topic of conversation, whichever she lands on she has to answer)
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46 notes - Posted December 18, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Flower Troupe Survey! The Best of Yuzuka Rei (PART 1)
The Troupe Survey is a current segment in the TakarazukaGRAPH magazine in which each month a different troupe is given a survey on their Top Star and a selection of their answers are printed in the magazine. There are 4 parts to this article: 1. The things about (Top Star) that have made a big impression on us 2. Stage: Shows or scenes which have stayed in our hearts 3. We want to see (Top Star) as a... 4. The (Top Star) Awards (The Top Star gives out special awards to troupe members)
As this article is so long I will be publishing the translation in parts! You can read part 1 under the cut!
The Flower Troupe Survey! The Best of Yuzuka Rei
We carried out a survey asking all the members of the flower troupe questions about Rei’s charm!
Part 1: The things about Yuzuka that have made a big impression on us!
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Wataru Hibiki:When she goes off-script her feelings and thoughts are naturally expressed. You can feel it in both plays and revues. I’m always secretly looking forward to the speeches she gives on the first day and the last day of a production because we get to hear her express her feelings honestly to all of us. Yuzuka’s comment:That’s something I care a lot about so I’m really happy to hear that. Even when I have things planned to say, I make sure to not forget what's most important to me when I speak.
Mikaze Maira: When she gives her name on Takarazuka Sky Stage and says “I’m the Flower Troupe’s Yuzuka Rei”. Ahh her AURA! Her NATURAL SEX APPEAL! Oh! She's...The! Cool! Beauty!!! She makes my heart beat faster (laughs).
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48 notes - Posted January 8, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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writing-in-lesbian · 8 months
Text
A Heiress in love. Pt. 6
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff / Female Reader Tags: angst, fluff, Translations: Hainofi = princess // Strik sis [Strisis] = little sister // Ai hod yu in = I love you // Ste yuj = Stay strong // Yu laik ai kru = You are my people // Oso laik wonkru = We are one clan // Ai hod you in seintaim = I love you too // Em pleni = enough // Ai laik Heda = I’m the commander // Jomp em op en you jump ai op // Attack her and you attack me. Chapter synopsis: As the enemies get closer, our new appointed commander embarks on a much personal journey.
A/N: This story keeps sending me into new research topics! I hope I’m doing them justice. Also since there aren’t a lot of trigedeslang transistors, everything in italics and underlined would be trigedeslang. Again, I’m partying ways from some canon events in the 100 in order for this to work. Work is not beta’d so all mistakes are mine.
Chapter 6 - The prince, the princess and death.
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Tuesday 03:30 a.m.
That’s what you think the time it’s based on the stars illuminating the sky. You observe Wanda sleeping peacefully close to the table where you left her, having you decided to meditate a little.
Your soul is restless, for some reason, you can’t stop thinking about the impending war and the consequences it might have, you make a mental note to send Henry a message tomorrow night, the device for communications being at your chambers, just to ask him how’s everything on their side.
The night is silent.
It should feel peaceful but it’s thick with anticipations of something you quite don’t understand. A lot has happened in a few days, and the constant changing of things does nothing to calm your mind. You think of your family, especially your mother, How many battles and wars has she seen already in her life? She deserves a quiet life, For years she was just surviving, making amends with death but then your mom quite literally fell from the sky and well, they both deserve a quiet life already. Haven’t they suffered enough?
Your mind travels to the redhead close to you and how you went from wishing to know her to being betrothed. Funny how sometimes the universe chooses to give us what we wanted. You notice her slim figure and, think how much harder all of this is being for her, and, not for the first time, you wish you could do more, be more, for those you love and care about.
Wondering as well about your other guests, they will probably leave tomorrow sometime during the day, hoping Pietro or Natasha could stay a little bit more, for Wanda’s sake. Taking your eyes off Wanda you look at the sky and the moon, shining bright above you, making her best effort to bring solace to your query mind.
Raven told you once that your mind thought 800 thoughts per millisecond, never shutting up and it would be a good thing for Lexa to start training you on how to effectively lessen them. You should have paid more attention to your lessons, maybe if your mother had been the one to show you instead of Octavia, you would have studied more, ‘cause you definitely want that state of mind right now.
In a few hours, your party will leave for Tondc, despite the political air it has, that’s where you’ll go to get your tattoo done, right at Becca’s bunker. You’re still amazed at how a lot of things changed when it comes to the Commander rituals, thanks to your mother and her rules.
Closing your eyes again, you try to concentrate, inhaling and exhaling slowly, one, two, three times, but before you can reach the fourth inhalation you hear Wanda whining. Your instinct and need to protect her takes over you and you go to her side immediately. Later when you are questioned, you will recall seeing the red wisps coming from her hands but claim you didn’t notice until it was too late.
You touch her shoulder trying to wake her up and receive a blast of red magic, that, upon impact does feel a little weird, but is enough to send you flying and crashing against one of the bigger rocks on the wall. You have to thank Raven for teaching you to cover your head when being sent flying and crashing from explosions. That summer you spent with her and she used you as a dummy test (to the displeasure of your mothers), is proving to be effective now.
Still, the hard impact is enough to leave you unconscious. … … … … … … … … …
You awake (or regain consciousness) to the sound of screaming. Trying as quick as you can, you force your body to get up, opening your eyes but the air is strong, making it harder for you to see, so you instantly close them again.
Putting your hand covering your eyes you walk towards what you think is the table, squinting your way out.
“Wanda?” You scream but your voice can’t be heard.
The noises are too loud.
You somehow see the smoke rising from the way the Tower is. Feeling your stomach drop, you turn and try to look for Wanda but all you see is fire where the table used to be, you still make your way back to it.
“Wanda, where are you?” But the clouds are covering the moon and there’s a lot of fog, making it impossible to see beyond a certain range, you’re not sure if it’s from the smoke or the chill air, but is starting to get into your lungs. Covering your mouth you reach the table.
Nothing.
BOOM
The loud explosions close to you are enough to destroy the rock walls and send you to the floor looking for cover. Eyes closed, not making a move, you hide behind the hidden part of the table, covering your mouth, trying not to make a sound with your coughs. Inhaling, and exhaling, you calm your state but are still stiff as a rock, you’re not sure where the explosions are coming from or if someone is near.
“Wanda, where are you?” You try again, thinking as hard as you can this time, remembering how it seemed to work a few hours ago, hoping it gets to her again.
Silence.
Eery silence.
Not even the wind makes a noise.
Opening one eye you can’t see any fire or smoke. In fact, everything seems exactly as it was before the explosions, the moon and the stars shining bright above you.
Carefully, you start getting up from your crouching position, sword at the ready. What the hell is going on? Your (e/c) eyes scan the area, looking for a sign of Wanda, at this point, for someone, anybody to appear.
“Welcome… Strisis” you remember well that voice.
It lulled you to sleep many times, but it’s impossible for you to hear it again right now. Turning carefully, one foot at a time, forcing your body to move, refusing to opening your eyes. Counting one to three in your head, you slowly bring light to your vision.
Truth is, it’s not impossible as it seems.
He’s standing there in all his glory, just like you used to remember him. Clad in all black, his blue eyes contrasting his sandy blonde hair, but his hair is well stylish and not as sweaty as normal, due to all the training he’d done. He’s sporting a small smile, the same one he reserved just for you.
“Aden” a whisper you’re not sure it came from your lips.
Tentatively you take a step, he’s the same height you remember him, except this time, you are taller than him. Although you’re not as tall as your mother, you somehow reached Clarke’s height, still, Aden, as you see him now, is shorter than you.
“I have been waiting for you” yet he doesn’t move nor make any intent to come closer. You look at your surroundings, but nothing seems different than when you entered this place.
“How… what… is it really you?” You refuse to believe what’s in front of you. The reality of having him here could mean just one thing.
“I am” he still doesn’t move.
“I don’t understand… am I?”
“Your betrothed holds a lot of power”
You frown at the mention of Wanda. Where is she anyway?
“No need to worry Sistris, despite unconsciously trying, she cannot enter where we are”
“What?” The fog in your brain is going away slowly. You recall the night, meditating, Wanda whining…
And the red sparks.
“We’re in my mind?”
“Not quite Y/N, we are in something similar to the City of Lights. I’m guessing this was a result of her”
“Wanda?”
“Is that her name? I always wondered. Mother used to call her the Lady with magic hands, not the best phrase is you ask, no wonder mom almost choked on her water”
His laugh is remarkable and something you wished to hear more often when he was alive. Wait, your mothers knew Wanda had magic? Is that why they accepted Stark’s offer? But, if they know she has magic, and certainly all her clan know, why would ask for your union? You don’t hold anything compared to Wanda’s abilities, so what can you bring to the table?
“A lot more of what you think sistris"
Continuing to ignore him, for your own sake, a lot of things haven’t made a lot of sense so trying to search for it, under the circumstances will just bring you a massive headache.
“You said we’re in the City of Lights but is not my mind”
“I said, we are in something similar. This is still part of your mind. Lady Maximoff can’t enter this space, more than anyone, you should know and it’s not because of the chaos”
Despite your best efforts, you feel a headache coming. Is that possible? Feeling a headache while inside your head?
“Sunrise is coming sistris”
“Wait, Aden… don’t go” The fear of losing him again makes you act on instinct, recalling the sensation you felt all those years ago, closing the distance an embracing him.
He smells like pine and wood, combined with some citric notes, a little bit different from what you remember. Back in the day, you always mumbled he smelled like rain, Madi taunted him saying you meant it was wet dirt, but to you, it was something fresh.
“I’m here”
Despite the height difference now, you feel his strong arms circling you and comforting you in a way only older brothers can.
You don’t want to let him go and refuse to close your eyes in case he disappears. What if he’s a fragment of your imagination?
“I’m real”
He takes your face and cradles it with his hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs.
“Let us walk” he grabs your hand while you both walk, using his hand as an anchor to calm your rapidly beating heart.
Upon close inspection, you see now the lake where he used to take you and Madi.
“War is coming sistris, and nothing can prevent it, not even chaos itself”
This information is not a surprise to you. Maybe you knew it all along, feared it but hoped for a peaceful resolution. That feeling of emptiness you had and the restlessness you felt prior was a way of rejecting the truth.
“Mother has taught you well. You’re better than I was. No wonder the spirit of the prior commanders is calling and choosing you”
“Aden” the rest of your sentence dies there, hanging in the air because you well know that, if he would still be alive, the commander would have chosen him and you would have been a simple heiress, waiting for her turn to the throne.
Your only reward was avenging his death when you were of age. To be fair, it was a clean duel, Ontari should have known it was coming.
“I never had the flame but I feel them now. And they are all anxious for what’s to come. You have a powerful ally Y/N and your future wife can be the decisive key to win or lose, it will depend on you”
You let go of his hand and stay rooted in place. Wanda have a part in this?
“We are no wiser nor gods to decide someone's destiny”
“And yet here you are telling me I’m the one who will scale the balance”
“I’m just a messenger”
“You’re one of the judges aren’t you?”
“I’m not sistris. I’m here on your request”
What request? What the hell is happening? One sec you’re trying to meditate and the next you’re in some kind of extremely weird dream, talking to your deceased brother like it was a casual walk at your favorite lake.
And now Wanda has come into the equation.
At her mention or more of your thoughts on her, you see red fog covering some bushes at the other side of the lake.
Aden follows your sight.
“Chaos awaits. It destroys and creates, it can never be tamed or understood but it can be beautiful if loved”
“Why do you keep referring to the chaos?”
“Sistris…” his face is filled with genuine curiosity, frowning his eyebrows exactly like your mother. And not for the first time you’re considering, that in fact, you’re the adopted one of the family.
“What Aden?” Yet you don’t look at him.
“Your betrothed has chaos magic”
He’s expecting a reaction from you but it honestly doesn’t affect you the type of magic Wanda has, why everybody is making a huge deal out of this is beyond your mind. The red fog in the meantime seems to get bigger and bigger.
“Y/N” a whisper comes from the bushes.
Your eyes are still glued to the color red, and for a flicker of a second, a silhouette starts forming only to vanish right after. Curios.
“Sunrise is coming and we cannot be late” That makes you turn to him.
You’re back at the ceremonial place but it seems darker, the stars are far gone and the moon seems to hide behind clouds
“Y/N” the voice seems familiar, you hear it so close to you but yet so far.
Aden walks closer to you when he sees the same red fog getting closer and circling the ceremonial place.
“Curios” Aden’s voice seems now like a whisper.
He places his hand on your shoulders, the act making you face him. His face is serious, a carbon copy of your mother.
“There are things I’m not allowed to tell. The knowledge we possess is not carved on stone and there are things that escape my mind as soon as I want to say them”
“Will I see you again?”
“You will know the answer to that”
Feeling a pull, you notice the red fog is close just to you, it plays around your hand. Aden sees it as well.
“Curios indeed” and you feel his strong arms once again around you and you take the opportunity to absorb his scent, to feel secure in his strength.
“I feel the pain in your heart. Mother loves you, don’t doubt it”
Sometimes we just need encouragement to fuel the fire inside of us. Until this point, you never thought simple words could do that.
“Ste yuj sistris” he says almost in a whisper, kissing your forehead. “Yu laik ai kru, Oso laik wonkru. Trust us, trust the commander in you, and tell your betrothed I said that to her as well”
Opening your eyes you see him still in front of you but the red fog is pulling you towards it. You see Aden moving his lips but can’t hear what he says.
“Aden?”
Trying to walk to him your way is stopped by the fog.
“ADEN” you yell and feel the tears falling from your eyes, just like that night many years ago. “ADEN”
“Curios indeed. Ai hod yu in heinofi” his silhouette seems like it’s vanishing from your line of vision, combined with a tinted red from the fog around your body, feeling warm and not unwelcome at all.
And as soon as the words leave his mouth, you’re completely covered in the red fog… and all goes dark. … … … … … … … … …
You can hear noises but they are too loud for you to comprehend what’s happening. Your mind feels foggy and you feel tired, the pain in your head has become a migraine. You can feel the pressure on one side.
Feeling hands on your shoulders, slowly but surely the noises around you have started to get clear and you can identify voices, Madi, Octavia and Natasha are yelling and you feel pretty sure if you were to open your eyes, you can bet they’re doing some type of training.
“Y/N, please wake up”
“I told you to stay away from her!”
“Don’t you dare touch her if you want to keep your hand”
“Aden… don’t go” it scales as a whisper from your lips.
For a moment, you stop hearing Madi and Octavia and all you can feel are the hands on your shoulders, they feel warm and strong. You want to open your eyes but they feel heavy.
Hearing some rustling around you and the warmth from the hands is replaced by another pair, cold and callused, they feel foreign.
“Y/N… what did you say” Madi’s voice seems close now.
Getting up seems difficult. Groaning, you open your eyes, making your body sit up first. There’s a warm sensation on your forehead so you might as well open your eyes. Bringing your hand to the sour of pain you feel the thick and slick liquid. Blood indeed.
“Y/N you’re okay?” Her voice is worried and you detect a flinch of fear in it.
You look at her and see that Octavia has her sword out and is pointing it toward Wanda, Natasha in front of her, protecting her and you feel jealous. Why in the name of Gaia happen?
Madi is the one next to you, kneeling to see if you’re okay. Taking away her hand from touching your forehead, you seek impulse with your hands on the floor and stand up. Madi assisting you quickly. You look at her and nod, indicating you’re well enough to stand on your own, but she refuses to let you go.
“I’m okay”
Yet your words don’t seem to calm any of the situation in place and when you try to go and comfort her, Madi stops you. Seeing this, Wanda tries to go to you instead but is stopped by Natasha, who sees Octavia take one step towards her.
“Care to explain to me what’s happening? None of you should be here” trying your best calming voice.
“I could ask the same Heinofi” It’s been a while since you heard Octavia this exhaled and furious.
Nothing of this makes sense. With all the pain in your head, you find another solution and think as hard as you can, to instruct Wanda, if she can hear you and is ok, to tilt her head. Suddenly you feel a pair of eyes on you, effectively meeting her eye, Wanda’s frown is in place but she tilts her head, slightly but the move is there.
“Madi?” As stern as you can you utter the words.
She hesitates for a moment, probably because she never heard you using that tone or because you know your mother will arrive soon, if not sooner with all this apparent commotion.
“I was setting with Octavia the last supplies you’ll need to use at TonDC, when we heard a loud noise coming from here. When we arrived you were crashed in the rocks bleeding from your head and Wanda was standing a few meters away, her hands clasped around her magic”
“Y/N I wasn’t” but Wanda’s interrupted by Natasha’s hand on her hand. Now you’re the one feeling like seeing red.
“Octavia got the sword out and that’s when Natasha arrived”
“Glad I came when I did, two against one didn’t seem fair”
Now that makes sense. If you were blasted by Wanda’s magic that could explain why you kept seeing red fog but, didn’t Aden say Wanda couldn’t enter your mind? Then how you could see the red, characteristic of Wanda’s magic? Was she trying to enter your mind to see if you were okay, or she was unconsciously doing it?
“Octavia, please take away your sword from my betrothed”
“Can’t do Henofi”
“Octavia. I’m not asking”
That makes Octavia turn to look at you if barely, her eyes never leaving the pair of your guests. Madi’s hold on your body is doing nothing to keep you calm.
“Y/N I don’t think you understand”
“Octavia, em pleni!” And is the stern in your voice what makes Octavia fully look at you and Madi to loosen her grip on you.
“You vowed to protect and obey me”
“I vowed to protect the commander” Out of the corner of your eye you see Wanda taking a few steps out of Natasha’s reach, her eyes although guarded have a flicker of fear in them.
“Ai laik Heda, you like it or not,” you say between teeth. Masking your pain and foggy mind.
Funny things happen when the most calm and peaceful people raise their voices and utter strength into them. Madi lets you go but Octavia has difficulty relinquishing her guard and stance. You see the anger behind her eyes and finally, she puts her sword back in her scabbard.
“Yu laik ai kru” You speak these words towards Wanda specifically but mean to extend them towards Natasha and her clan as well.
Madi and Octavia look at you.
“Oso laik wonkru” you speak to them.
Hearing you speak trigedeslang is so foreign, since you barely use it, They’re more used to hearing from other people but not you, it makes them realize what the words you spoke convey.
“You are my people. We are one clan” you say for the sake of Wanda and Natasha and to make your stance very clear.
“War is imminent”
“Sistris”
“No Madi, it is. Aden told me”
“Aden?” Madi looks at you.
You can’t even if you tried, explain everything that happened inside your head (or outside) you’re still not sure where that place was or if you’ll go again.
“What happened was an accident. I startled Wanda. We cannot be divided. Ai laik Heda ”
The air feels heavy, and the implications of what you said, especially to Octavia, linger in the air. They never have seen you like this, Madi has a newfound respect for you if her kneeling in front of you indicates it. Octavia scans you, her scowl present but kneels.
“Jomp em op en you jump ai op”
“You are right daughter” You turn to see your mothers enter. Lexa was clad in her red stash and riding attire. Clarke is wearing a green cloak, you didn’t think she will travel with you.
“Octavia, Madi, rise"
“War is imminent. Aden has spoken to us”
What?
“Come Y/N, your ascension ceremony should take place today at noon”
Clarke looks at you and her eyes carry so much weight and sorrow.
“Mom?”
She just opens her hands, the flame is nested between the metal box you dreaded to see. What you don’t take into consideration is that there are two little boxes, meaning Wanda will get chipped too.
“Y/N, a flame-keeper has not been in our clans for so many years. Times are changing and for us, it changes as well in our traditions”
“Interesting use of words, Lexa. Remind me to learn to be as political and coherent as you” Stark's voice comes out of nowhere and suddenly you see a red suit floating. It’s close to the floor but you might have imagined it, you certainly will be confused after the blast.
“Natasha, be a dear and take the second box. You have been appointed to be the flame keeper, isn’t that exciting?”
So that’s a no on Wanda chipped but wait. Natasha?'
“With due respect Heda, I will use my right to duel and challenge Duchness Romanoff for the place of the flame keeper”
You all turn to see Octavia slicing her hand in a way that allows the hand to bleed minimally. Before anyone can say anything Natasha’s raspy voice accepts it.
“Lexa?” You hear your mom speak.
And then all goes silent, the calmness you felt before is there and you don’t have to look to see that Wanda has taken your hand and has interlaced your fingers… nor do you see the red magic coming from her hands and taking you once again into darkness.
-/-/-/-/-/
Tag List: @spongebobtentacles @wandamaximoff727 @cristin-rjd @aawake-atnight @msromanoffswife @juno-verse @wandastan-2 @wannabe-fic-reader @cd-4848
64 notes · View notes
sweet-villain · 8 months
Text
Lost In Translation ~ E.M
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Words : 5.4K
@cassielvy asked:
Okokok, but how about this? Eddie and Reader have been dating, like, not that long, like 3 months, and then Eddie made new friends, like guys he found HideOut or something, and when he goes to present, his girlfriend is there with him, and when it's time for her to meet her new friends eddie acts awkward towards her, as if she and he are just "acquaintances" or just "friends". You decide the ending! I REALLY LOVE YOUR ACCONT, HOLLY SHIT
Angst
@babyloutattoo89 @palomam18 @becca-alexa @sadbitchfangirl @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @steddieandstonathansprincess @haileighboi @bookshelf-dust @moonchildquinn @strangerfreak
Clad ring hand cups your face bringing you back to pay attention to your boyfriend. He had a pout on his face and his brown doe eyes sparkled. Your eyebrow knitted together in confusion, zoning out for a moment forgetting that you were having a conversation with him because you heard your name called from the other side of the room. 
“ Huh?” You asked, eyes blinking trying to remember what he asked you. He softly chuckled not minding that you had lost your train of thought when you heard your name being called. He found it cute and adorable. “ What happened?” You continued to ask, being more confused on why he started to laugh. You glance down at your shirt thinking you had a stain or something there. But you didn’t. You reached up to your face to see if you had any crumbs on your face but there was nothing there. 
“ I don’t get it” you raked your fingers through your hair thinking something had magically got lost in there and it caught Eddie’s attention. His shoulder shook as he laughed more seeing you were becoming worried over nothing. 
“ Jerk” you mumbled realizing he did that on purpose. You crossed your arms over your chest with a small huff thinking he was being mean to you. “ Awe, sweetheart” he stopped laughing and reached across for your hands where you moved away, pouting that he was laughing at you. He gasped dramatically when you refused to take his hands and put his hands on his heart like you shot him. 
You let out a giggle watching him dramatically be wounded by your actions. He had a smile on his face when he heard the sound of laughter. 
“ There’s my girl” he says as he motions with his hands in grabbing motions for your hands. You stared down at his hands covered in rings and then back up at his face. His smile drop into a frown and before you know it, he pouted and thrashed in his seat demanding for your hands. He knew you were only playing with him. 
“ Eddie’s waiting” he sang and continued to wiggle his fingers. He hands dropped as he dramatically sighed, sadness filled his eyes as he pretending they welled up with tears. You gasped seeing the sight of him and put your hand in his which brought a smile on his face right away. 
“ Eddie’s happy” he says bringing your hands up to his lips, kissing on top of your hands. 
“ Y/N is happy too” you tell him, cheeks going red. You were never going to get used to having such an affectionate boyfriend. Eddie loved having his hands on you whenever he could. His love language was psychical touch, that was the main one with others. The relationship between the two of you was still freshly new and the two of you haven’t been dating too long. Three months. 
You were kinda glad that day that Gareth decided to tell Eddie that you had feelings for him otherwise you’d never tell him and you don’t know where the two of you would stand. 
“ You know I feel like Gareth deserves some sort of treatment for bringing us together, don’t you think” you mumbled, rolling one of Eddie’s rings around his finger while Eddie stared at you with heart shaped eyes. He wasn’t even listening to what you were saying because he was to happy to have this moment with you, being with you, and he was happy. More than he could imagine someone would make him feel like this. 
“ Eddie?” You called out to him, snapping your fingers in front of his face that scared him. He jumped in his seat, blinking a couple of times. 
“ Did you say something?” He asked when he noticed you were waiting with your head tilted like you had said something to him and he wasn’t listening. “ Was it something important I’ve missed?” He asked. 
You shook your head, “ I said that you should give some sort of treatment to Gareth, maybe in the next campaign-“ Eddie cuts you off with a shake of his head and finger up wagging it. 
“ Just because he got us together, sweetheart….it doesn’t mean that he deserves some prize…. I have the best prize” he winks at you meaning you are the prize. “ Besides, that’s not how the campaign will go.. I have many surprises up my sleeve for our sheeps.” 
“ You make me sound like I’m the mom of the group or something, Eds” you snorted. He shrugged. 
“ You kinda are, you look out for them. Look out for me, you keep up together” he says. “ Mama Bear” he teases. 
Your nose scrunches up as you shook your head, “ I don’t want to be taking Harrington’s job.” 
Eddie laughed. 
“ Sweetheart, he is always complaining he’s the babysitter. Why don’t you take the spotlight for a change?” 
You shrugged. 
“ The kids do look up to you. Dustin can’t stop talking about you” He says. 
“ Are you sure your not talking about yourself there, Eds?” He chuckles as he waves his hand. 
“ We’re not talking about me, sweetheart.” 
“ I’m not that special to them” you mumbled. Eddie gasped as reaches over to put a hand over your mouth like you had spoken a bad word or something. 
“ You take that back right now, sweetheart” you mumbled something in his hands which he didn’t understand. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he asked, “ What?” You rolled your eyes and licked his hand. He pulled away from your mouth wiping it on his shirt with his nose scrunched up mumbling how he has cooties now. 
“ Steve and you look after them more, heck even Robin and Nancy too” you pointed out but Eddie shook his head not wanting to hear it. You did more then enough for the kids and he saw how much you adored them. 
“ Don’t be too hard on yourself, sweetheart. You’re more than enough for everyone. You do more than you know. Please don’t think like that” Eddie gets off from his seat as he walks around to sit by you as he tugs you close to him and rest his forehead against your own. 
“ You’re beautiful, you’re adorable, you’re so kind, you’re amazing in every way, you’re always helpful, you’re always there when someone need something, you’re everything. Okay?” He asks. “ It hurts me when you down talk about yourself and don’t believe in yourself.” 
“ Thank you Eds, what would I do without you?” 
“ Fall flat on your face” he says jokingly which you playfully pushed at his chest. “ Getting feisty now?” He continued to joke and leaned closer that his nose nudges yours. “ Play nice” his voice changes that sends chills down your spine. 
“ Or what?” You questioned, leaning closer that your breath fans over his face. He smiles and cups your face with both of his hands. The coldness of his rings sends shivers down your arms and it feel good. “ Or I’ll do something about it” his lips meet yours in the softest kiss he has ever given you. You felt like you were floating when your kissing him and every time he kisses you, there is the feeling of going into another world where your skipping and collecting your favorite flowers. 
He sends your mind into places to the unknown. He gives you a happy feeling and he always pulls away looking like you had given him the world. 
Eddie leaned back on the couch as he listened to what Jeff was going on about that happened to him this morning, he looked around the room feeling bored out of his mind. Practice had finished about a few moments ago in Gareth’s garage, but they decided to hang out after in the basement. Gareth was sitting by Eddie’s side as he listened to Jeff tell the story and they all laughed. Eddie didn’t catch anything because he didn’t seem to hear it as his mind was elsewhere. 
It’s not that he didn’t love his band mates and friends but they all seem to go on about something stupid happening to them that day or something in the week. Gareth seems to be talking about the exams he has been taking and it’s becoming too much for him. The other one keeps talking about the new desserts his mom seems to be making and it was the same thing over and over again.
Eddie was tired of it. He rubbed his eyes with his hands as he yawned, stretching out his arms over his head as he stood up from his seat. The seat he has been sitting at seems to feel like it was swallowing him. It was old and rusty and was due to be thrown out. 
“ Man, you okay?” Gareth asked noticing Eddie wasn’t taking part take in the conversation lately. It hasn’t felt like he was part of the group lately. It was starting to be noticeable by the other guys. Eddie put his hair up in a pony tail and looked around to spot where he had dropped his water on the way from the garage. 
He sees it on top of one of the boxes that was collecting dust on it and walks over without answering Gareth question as he reaches for it. He uncaps it as he takes the drink. 
Jeff, Gareth and the other one look concern at one another like they said something they shouldn’t or that they feel like something has been off with Eddie. 
“ Everything okay?” Jeff asked him this time. Eddie capped his water back as he nodded his head. 
“ I’ve got to go” He says to them and makes his way over to the garage where he left his guitar at. Gareth peeks into the garage, watching as Eddie is getting ready to leave with his guitar in hand. “ Did we do something to upset you?” He asks. 
“ No” Eddie says. 
“ My mom is making pasta, you should stay for dinner” Gareth says pointing behind him motions to the stairs. 
“ I’m not hungry, I’m going to wait for Wayne to have dinner with anyways. Thanks” Eddie looks up as he swings his guitar. “ I should go” He says. Gareth sighs and nods knowing Eddie would come to him if something was wrong. 
“ Are you sure you don’t want to stay? We were going to watch a movie?” The other one asks as he sticks his head from behind Gareth. Eddie taps his fingers on the strap of his guitar as a sour look crosses his face, he takes a deep breathes and calmly says, “ I have to head home.” 
He was growing annoyed with them. 
“ You can pick the movie this time, Eddie. It’s your turn anyways” Jeff says as he walks out looking nervously at Gareth and the other one for some help since the both of them were standing and looking like they rather hide under some rocks.
Eddie gritted his teeth, “ Look guys, I’m tired and it’s been a long day. Wayne is probably waiting for me to get back, waiting on me to have dinner. “
“ I’m sure Wayne will be fine, besides we don’t get to see you as much anymore” Gareth mumbles, “ It’s like your not there anymore. We don’t have D&D nights…” 
“ When is our next, campaign? Jeff asks. “ Have you started?” He adds. Eddie’s face grows into a glare as his hands turns into a fist by his side. They were getting on his nerves now.The guys don’t mean any harm but they miss their friend. 
“ No, I haven’t started on it! I have been busy with writing new songs for us to perform at the Hide Out and exams after exam keeps happening. I want to walk that stage with my girlfriend this year, you know? I want to be something. Now if you excuse me, I have to get home I have been saying for the past 10 minutes or so.”
The three felt like there was something more to it but they left it alone, not wanting to keep Eddie back from getting home quickly to Wayne. But Eddie hopped into the van, and headed into a different direction than home. No, he wasn’t on his way to see you. He has told that after band practice he was going to go straight to bed because he was going to be so tired. 
You know how hard he’s been working but that wasn’t the case at all.
Eddie stopped the van in front of the Hide Out as a smile brings to his face. He taps the wheel with excitement before existing. He partially hopped out of the van with such joy that he was sure he was going to break a leg. He swung the door open almost ripping it off its hinges when he threw it opened. He straighten out his jacket before hearing his name.
“ Eddie! Over here!” He hears. His head shoots over seeing his new friends he has made when he walked into the Hide Out two weeks in need of a drink but he found himself walking out of the Hide Out with new friends by his side. “ Eddie’s here!”
He walks over to them with joy, greeting him with hugs as he stopped by the table.
“ You look like you had a long day” one of them says, “ did something happened?” They asked. 
“ Just had to deal with people, nothing really. You know how people get” he throws his hands up as he sits down. “ What did you guys order?” 
As you were about to throw out the trash that your mom asked you to do, there was a knock at the door. Your eyebrows frowned. You weren’t expecting anyone. 
“ Mom? Is someone coming over?” You asked, sticking your head out to the side that she can see you from the kitchen where she peeked out when she heard your question. She shook her head. 
“ Go see who it is, will you?” She asked, “ I got to finish the dishes” she adds motioning behind her. You nodded and turned to the door, reaching for the doorknob and throwing it open to reveal Robin and Steve standing there on your porch. 
“ What are you guys doing here?” You asked, with the trash over your shoulder as you closed the door a bit and leaving a crack that you didn’t lock yourself. 
“ We wanted to see if you wanted to get a drink at the Hide Out? We haven’t seen you in awhile” they followed you to the path where you opened the lid and you threw the trash into the can before closing it back up. You turned to face your friends. 
“ I don’t know, isn’t it kinda late? Don’t you have school tomorrow, Robin?”
“ Don’t you have it too?” She asked back. You turn to look at Steve, “ Don’t you have work? Keith is going to have an earful for you if he knew you were going to come into tomorrow with a hang over.” 
“ He doesn’t come in as much anymore” Steve shrugs. 
You look back at the house, biting your lip. 
“ Don’t be a party pooper and let’s go”Robin nudges your side, “ Let loose a little. You’ve been having your head in books this week and don’t tell me you didn’t because I saw you.” 
“ Fine let me get changed and tell my mom” they both threw you a thumbs up telling you they would wait for you out here. You rushed back inside and washed your hands. 
“ Mom?” You called out finding her in the living room where she was folding a blanket up. 
“ What is it, hunny? Who was at the door?” She asked. 
“ It was Steve and Robin. Can I go out for a bit? I promise I won’t be out too long and Steve will drive me back” She looked out the window to see Steve was sitting in the car drumming on the steering wheel while Robin was sitting in the passenger seat as she was telling Steve something who as listening as he turned his head. 
She looks back at you seeing the puppy dog on your face and the hands in front of you in a pleading motion like you were praying. 
“ Okay, but not too long” she says. You jumped in the air with a fist and rushed over to kiss her cheek, she laughed at your excitement telling you to be good while you ran upstarts to your room flying through the door. You rushed to the dresser to look for an outfit to change. You threw a couple of clothes onto the bed as you changed and choose other shoes to wear for the night. 
“ Bye Mom!” You shouted about to fly through the door when she stops you. 
“ Yeah? What is it?” She walks over to her purse and fishes out some bills. 
“ Mom, it’s okay. No need. I have a job, you know” she nodded but didn’t listen as she put some extra cash into your hand. “ You’ve been studying so hard lately, I want you to have but not too much fun. You got that, missy?” She pointed a finger at you. “ Call me if anything” she added. She takes your face in her hands and places a kiss on top of your head. 
“ Love you!” You shouted as you ran down the path towards Steve’s car and threw yourself into the backseat. 
“ Took you long enough” Steve says as he backs out, waving at your mom who stood there watching from the door. 
“ Oh, put a sock in it, Harrington” he laughed at your lame comeback while Robin shook her head in her seat. 
“ You two are lame” she says. Both you and Steve shouted, “ hey!” At the same time, scaring her as she jumps in her seat, glaring at the both of you. “ I swear you two are secretly siblings.” 
“ He is not that good looking” you point to Steve. Robin looks at Steve and back at you as she agrees. 
“ You’re not being nice” Steve says as he takes a look at you. “ why are you leaning so far forward? Isn’t there a seatbelt back there?” He asks. 
“ Come down Papa Bear, I’m not a child and it’s pretty safe like this” Steve let out a deep sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. 
“ If I get into a car accident, and you fly through this windshield than it’s not on me” He says.
“ No one is getting into a car accident, just drive Steve” Robin says as she points to the road. 
“ You make me feel so loved, Steven” you mumbled leaning back into the seat and crossing your arms across your chest. 
“ That’s not my name, Y/L/N” he looks at you through the review mirror. 
“ Okay Steve, drive the car before I crawl over there and yank every piece of hair from your head” 
“ Violence isn’t an answer, plus we need dingus to drive us”
“ Oh look we’re here” Steve parks the car in front of the Hide Out and you haven’t noticed your boyfriend’s van parked to the side where it was hidden in between other cars. Not even noticeable by Steve and Robin as they got out of the car too. The three of you walked into the Hide Out seeing it was busier than ever. 
“ Huh? Would you look at that, more than five drunks for once” you muttered looking around when your eyes caught a familiar set of mane of curls and the familiar leather jacket. You blinked a couple of times thinking you were just seeing things.
“ Are you going to stand out there all night or are you going to sit with us?” Steve says. “ What are you even looking at?” He asks following your eye sight and his eyebrows frowned together in confusion before he blinked his eyes a couple of times like you. It looks like he has the same reaction thinking he’s over thinking on who he’s seeing. 
“ Does that look like Eddie to you?” Robin asks as she points her finger exactly to the person you have been looking at. To your surprise he’s not around Gareth, Jeff and the other one. Usually he was always with them or he was around the other Hellfire Club or he was with you.
You continue to watch him interact with these new people seeing him laughing as he threw his head back. You can’t tell by his face that it’s him because his back is to you but you knew the back of his head right off the bat and that jacket too. 
“ I thought he was having a night in or something” you muttered. “ Did he tell you guy that he was going to be here?” You turn to your friends to see if they knew anything about it but they both shook their heads not having a clue on it. 
“ Hm, strange” you muttered to yourself. You adjusted in your seat wanting him to turn around and catch you looking at him but he doesn’t. You don’t even drink as you continue to loo cat him. One of the people he’s sitting with has nudged him in the shoulder and leans over to whisper something in his ear. You think they said something about you watching him because the person you have been watching has finally turned around. It’s Eddie. Your boyfriend. 
His eyes grew wide as saucers seeing you. He swallows the lump in his throat. 
Eddie mutters words underneath his breath that he screwed up and not expecting you to be here out of all the days he decided to hang out with new friends. 
“ Do you know who those people are?” Robin held her drink in her hand while Steve had water, you had water too since you didn’t feel like drinking anymore. You felt hurt that Eddie had lied to you about having a night in where he was going to go to bed early meanwhile he’s hanging out with friends at the Hide Out. He could of been honest with you on what he was doing and instead he’s here. 
“ No, I don’t. I don’t think they go to our school either” Robin says. “ The girl one is kinda cute” she adds. You shoot her a look as if saying she wasn’t helping at all. She slide down in her seat while you continue to look at your boyfriend who’s now sliding down in his own seat hoping you’d leave soon. 
“ You know? You should go over there and talk to him” Steve says. “ He might tell you the truth now that you had caught him.” 
“ I’m going to go introduce myself” you slide out of your seat heading towards the table where Eddie had sat at. The chatter around the table had stopped when you walked up to the table. Heads had turned towards you to see what you wanted. 
“ Hi there” you smiled at them, your hand drops onto Eddie’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “ Hi Eds, didn’t know you’d be here.” 
Eddie was trying to hide behind his hair as he looked away from the rest of his friends. 
“ Do you know who this is, Eddie?” One of his friends asked. Eddie shook his head and avoided eye contact as he brushed off your hand off his shoulder. “ Uh, no. She’s nobody” he says. 
The words cut through your heart when he says your nobody. 
“ What do you mean, Eddie? I’m your girlfriend” you try to correct him. 
Maybe he was shy or hiding that he has a pretty girlfriend like you to them. Maybe he didn’t talk about his love life and kept it hidden from others or maybe he didn’t tell them. 
The others looked at each other in question. 
“ Eddie said he doesn’t have a girlfriend” your face drops hearing the words as you glance down at Eddie as he stared down at his almost empty glass without saying a word. 
“ Is she really your girlfriend, Eddie? I thought you were single and just trying out the flavors around” one of them said. You rose your eyebrow in question on why Eddie would say such a thing.
You leaned down to whisper into Eddie’s ear, who slide away from you feeling your breath next to him and made him look like he was uncomfortable by having you near him. He fidgeted with the rings on his fingers as he looked around his friends as they stared back at him.
“ We are acquaintances” Eddie mumbles running his finger around the glass as he still wouldn’t make eye contact with you. “ She just some girl in my class” he shrugs. He finally turns his head towards you and locks eyes with you. You can tell he’s having regrets on what he’s saying as he stares at you in apologetically. 
“ I’m sorry” he mouths to you but you are too hurt by his words to even look at him anymore. You tore your eyes from your boyfriend as you looked around the table. 
“ Sorry to have bothered you” you tell him, “ enjoy your night” you add and straighten out, turning to head back to the table with your eyes glossing over with tears. Eddie closed his eyes feeling like the biggest jerk on the planet on what he just did. He was scared his new friends wouldn’t like you or any of his other friends, that’s why he never mentions you to them. 
He was scared they would hate you but now he thinks you hate him.
He turns to watch you walk back to the table you were sitting at, Steve turns his head in time to meet his gaze and he glances away immediately because Steve is sending him the biggest death glare he has ever seen. Robin is shaking her head in disappointment. His shoulder sunk as he sees you get up from your seat with Steve following in your step with Robin in tow. 
But before Robin has a chance to walk away she flips him off. 
“ Was that really your girlfriend?” One of them asks him as they leaned over to whisper in his ear. Eddie nods as he runs a hand through his hair. 
“ Oh you messed up really bad” the other says to him. 
“ I know” he downs his drinks and set is down with a couple of bills he found from his pockets. “ This should cover this and the other round your going to get.” 
“ Where are you going, Eddie?” 
“ Going to catch up with my girl and hope she forgives my stupid ass” he says as he runs out the doors out the Hide Out.
“ I don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell them I’m his girlfriend. Is he cheating on me? Am I not pretty enough to be shown off to?” You question to Robin with your head on her shoulder while she rubs it in comfort. 
“ He’s a jerk that never deserved you” Robin tells you. You hear a pair of boots hitting across the floor as they walk closer and your head shots up to see its your jerk of a boyfriend walking yore way in hopes to make amends and hope you forgive him. 
Steve stops in front of him and prevents him from making his way over to you.
“ Did you lose something, Munson?” Steve asks him. Eddie takes a step back as he eyes Steve in his way. 
“ I want to talk to her” he says looking over Steve shoulder at you. Your head is back on Robin’s shoulder as she pulls you into her, comforting you. 
“ No” Steve shakes his head, “ you’ve done enough for one night” he says. 
“ Harrington, let me talk to her and fix this” Steve puts his hands on his hips as he looks back at you to see if you were going to say something but you don’t. He looks back at Eddie. 
“ Why don’t you go back inside and talk to your little buddies? She doesn’t want to talk to you right now” Steve says. 
“ Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk in there. I was nervous” he says trying to get you to talk to him even though Steve has told him that you didn’t want to talk to him. You weren’t in such a talking mood. 
“ Why were you nervous? What is there to be nervous about?” Robin asks. 
Eddie hung his head, kicking an imaginary rock like it was there for him. 
“ I was nervous that they would throw comments at you and you’d don’t know how to handle them all at once. I know you don’t deal good with big crowds too. You don’t like being around new people, you told me they make you feel scared in away. I’m sorry and I wasn’t thinking right.” 
“ You weren’t” you spoke up. Eddie’s head shot up at the sound of your voice. “ You hurt my feelings” you added crossing your arms across your chest, eyes with tears in them. 
“ I wasn’t thinking in there, how can I make it up to you, sweetheart?” You shook your head not really knowing what he would do to have you forgive him. “ I want you to be happy, I want everyone to know your my beautiful girlfriend.” 
“ A little late for that” you muttered with a shrug. 
You notice a look in his eyes when he got an idea. He took a hold of your wrist and tugging you back to the Hide Out. 
“ What are you doing?” You asked him, looking back at Steve and Robin who are following behind and are confused on why Eddie was dragging you back at the Hide Out. He opened the doors to the Hide Out as you followed him. His new friends looked towards the door to see you standing there with him. 
Eddie hummed and made his way over to the stage. 
“ Eddie” you called out to him. But he wasn’t listening as he took the microphone off the stand and rose it to his lips. 
“ Hi, is this thing on?” He tapped it and spoke into it. A loud noise made you grasp at your ears from the microphone causing you to wince. Eddie apologized and he turned to the crowd with you standing on stage with him. 
“ My name is Eddie Munson, I know some of you know me and some of you don’t” he waves into the crowd. “ I want to introduce you to an important person in my life. I can be such a jerk but she adores me anyways. She means a lot to me, she makes me happy, she makes feel alive and I want you all to know that Y/N L/N is my beautiful girlfriend and hopefully my future.” 
He turns to look at you with a glint in his eyes. 
“ After graduation, I want to marry you Y/N” he says. Your eyes grow wide as saucers and your mouth drops open in shock hearing this.  “ I love you, sweetheart.”  He adds.  “ So much.” 
“ You better say yes” Robin says. Steve shoots her a look to be quite as they all await your answer. 
“ Say yes!” His new friends shouted. Your cheeks were redder than red at this point and Eddie pleaded with his eyes that he was serious about you being his future. If this wasn’t going to work then he would keep trying until it does. But he hopes it does because he does love you very much and it would hurt him a lot if you walked out the door. 
“ I love you too, you jerk” you tell him. He nodded for you to go on knowing you were going to say the words. He knew you well enough to know you were going to say something more. 
“ Yes, I’ll marry you… jerk” 
He threw his hands up in happiness, dropping the microphone as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hoisted you up as he twirled you around. You squealed in happiness and laughter hearing shouts from his new friends and the rest of the crowd. 
“ I get to be a brides maid or the maid of honor” Robin claps her hands in excitements. 
“ I get to be the best man then” Steve says. Eddie puts you down and he heard what Steve had said. 
“ Slow yourself there Harrington, you’ve got completion with the rest of the sheeps. Get in line” He says. 
108 notes · View notes
andydrysdalerogers · 6 months
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Yours Submissively ~ Legacy
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Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis
Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.
And she has no idea.
Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)
A/N: the taglist is open!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Banners by me!
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated
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Previous: Jeopardize
Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist
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Beep. 
Beep. 
Sore.  That’s all Belle feels.  Sore.  And annoyed.  What was with the beeping?  She went to stretch her arm but it smarted.  Ow.  Belle slowly blinked her eyes, the harsh light irritating.  As her eyes adjust, she feels something heavy on her hand.  She looked over to see Steve sleeping on her arm, his hand covering hers.  She smiled and ran her hand through his hair.  He starts to move, and she stills.  
Steve feelings the relaxing motion in his hair. Who is petting him? He lifts his head and looks around but sees his favorite pair of violet blue eyes looking at him.  “Oh, thank god, sweet pea.”  He reaches up to kiss her forehead. “I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.”  
“Steve, what happened?” 
“What do you remember?” 
“I was waiting for Bucky and a guy tried to grab me.  But then everything goes fuzzy.”  
Steve’s lips form a thin line.  “You were injected with a sedative.  You were right on your instincts.  Someone was watching you.  I am so relieved you called.”  
“Did Bucky catch him?” 
“No, he got away.” He could feel Becca tremble. “Hey, hey, its ok.  Baby, its ok, no one is going to hurt you ok?  You are safe here with me.” A tear fell and Steve climbed into bed with her, pulling her into his chest.  “I’m right here sweet pea.”  Becca sobbed, the realization of what happened hitting her. Steve ran his hand over her arm and keeps kissing her head.  
“Steve, don’t let them…” 
“No, nothing is going to happen. We think we know what happened but let’s make sure you’re ok first. I love you.”  
“I love you.” Becca looked up at him and he placed a sweet kiss on her lips. “How long have I been out?” 
“About 12 hours.  Its,” he looked at his watch, “about 3 am right now. Dr. Cho said that you may feel the effects after you woke up.”  
“My head hurts and I’m thirsty but otherwise, I think I’m ok.” Becca looked at her arm, the IV line sticking out. “That sucks. I hate needles.”  
“Necessary, my love.” Steve smiled.  “I’m going to go get the doctor.  Don’t move.”  
“Hilarious.”  Becca rolled her eyes.  Steve left with a chuckle and Becca looked around.  She could see a lab through the glass walls and what looked like the Ironman suits in the distance. As she started to sit up, Bucky walked in.  
“Whoa! Belle, wait.” He put his hand on her shoulder to keep her in the bed. “You need to be cleared before you can get up.” 
“Bucky! You’re ok!” She reaches for him and pulls him into a tight hug.  
“Ok, Belle, I need to be able to breathe.” He pats her back.  
“You’re a super solider. You can handle it,” she replied.  He chuckles and gives her a squeeze.  “Thank you for saving me.”  
“I told you I would take care of you.”  He sits on the edge of her bed and looks around.  “Where’s Steve?” 
“He went to get the doctor.  I woke up a few minutes ago.”  
“Good.  How’re you feeling?” 
She rubbed her temples. “Like I have a migraine.”  
“Good,” a new voice comes from the doorway. Becca turns to see a pretty Asian woman in a lab coat, Steve on her tail.  “That’s to be expected with the type of sedative you were injected with.  I’m Dr. Cho, physician for the Avengers.”  
“Belle Davis. Sedative?” 
“Ketamine, to be more exact.  A very strong tranquilizer.  Luckily you pulled it out of your arm before too much was given. The migraine can be treated with regular pain medication, plenty of water and rest.  Captain, I assume you would like to take her home?” 
“I would Helen, if I could.”  
“Under normal circumstances, I would say I would keep her another day but I feel like she would be in good hand with you, Captain.  Just keep an eye on her for any other symptoms and bring her back.” Doctor Cho smiled at Belle.  “I’m very happy it wasn’t more serious. Call me, if you feel worse.”  She handed a card to Belle.  “It was nice to meet you.”  
“It was nice to meet you too.  Thank you.”  The doctor exited the room.  “Guys, where are we?” 
“We brought you to Avengers tower,” Steve said.  “I didn’t know where else to go.”  
“That explains the lab. Is Tony here?”  
“No, he and Pepper went to bed awhile a go.” Steve takes her hand.  “You wanna go home?” 
“Yeah, but I still have the IV…” she looks down and see that its gone.  She looks up at Bucky, who smirks.  “Did you take out my IV?” 
“Like a champ.  You didn’t even notice,” Bucky gloated.  He hands his palm out to Steve who grumbles and hands over a $100 bill.  
“Really?” Belle looks at Steve.  
“I didn’t think he would be able to pull it off.” Steve shrugged. He kissed her head.  “Let’s get you home.”  
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After settling Belle in his bed, Steve headed back out to the living room and poured himself a scotch. “How’re you holding up punk?” Bucky asked, plopping himself on the couch next to him.  
“Stressed. She could have been…” 
“But she wasn’t.  Her intuition was perfect, and she did the right thing.  I’m just sorry I didn’t get more answers.”  
“It’s not your fault.  But it is going to be a difficult conversation in the morning.  I don’t know how she is going to take the security measures.” Steve sighed.  
“It’s going to be ok.  Just be honest.  That conversation will be a lot and her security and safety is the only thing that matters.” Bucky quirked his brow.  “Besides, I don’t think much can surprise Belle anymore.”  
“This is going to rock her world, jerk.  She doesn’t realize how close she actually came to being taken away.” Steve shook his head. He drained his glass.  “I’m headed to my girl.  See you in the morning.”  
“Clint will be here by 10 AM.  Try and relax.”  
“Thanks Bucky.”  
Morning came with Belle groaning from the light coming in. She sat up but found herself alone in Steve’s bed.  Well, her bed now.  She stretched her limbs and headed into the bathroom to clean up and dress.  As she was pulling her shirt on, warm hands ran around her waist.  “Mm, I was hoping to find you still in bed.”  
“Well, you left me and I got cold.”  Belle turned in Steve’s arms.  “Good morning.”  She pecked his lips.  
“Morning my love.  I ordered in breakfast this morning. Its waiting for you.  We also have a guest.”  
“A guest?” 
“Yeah, Clint is joining us for breakfast.”  
Belle shrugged. “Ok.”  They walked out hand in hand to the kitchen where Bucky and Clint were sipping their coffees.  “Good morning, Bucky, Mr. Barton.” Belle extended her hand.  
“Miss Davis, call me Clint, please.”  
“Belle, Clint. Should I serve breakfast?” 
“No need sweet pea.  I’ve got it.  You sit.” Steve kissed the top of her head. He pulled the chair for her and then went to the kitchen.  
“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company Clint?” Belle asked.  
“Steve and Bucky asked me to come by to review something and they invited me to breakfast.”  
“Yeah, just need to run some security things with him,” Bucky explained.  
Steve brought the plates in, and they ate, making small talk.  As the meal finished, Steve cleared his throat.  “Sweet pea, we need to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”  
Belle looked at him with wide eyes.  “Is something wrong?” 
“No, love, no.  Remember when we talked, and I explained that I was scared that someone would hurt you to get to me?” She nodded. “I think that was what was going on yesterday.  We haven’t had any proof or any demands, but I want to keep you as safe as possible.”  
“What does that mean?” 
“It means that I would like you to consent to having security with you whenever you are out of the apartments. I need to know you are safe, sweet pea.”  
Belle sat back.  “Like a guard or something?” 
Steve nodded and then looked at Bucky.  Bucky pushed a folder towards her.  “We would want someone to follow you like I do with Steve.  Someone will drive you where you want to go and be close to you at work.”  
Belle closed her eyes.  “So, I have to have someone with me even if I’m with Lila or MJ or anyone?” 
“Yes, sweet pea.  We are just trying to keep you safe.  I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because of me.”  
“How would it work?” 
“Clint has agreed to be your CPPD. Your close personal protection detail. He’ll accompany you to work and anywhere else during the week.  Since you are here on the weekends, Bucky will take over.”  
“Clint, you are ok with this?” Belle looked at him.  “No one is going to mind that you are stalking me all day?” 
“Isabella,” Steve gave her a warning while Clint and Bucky chuckled.  
“No Belle.  My kids are with their mom during the week.  I have them on the weekends unless I am needed. I’ll be fine stalking you all day.” He sighed. “Look Belle, I know it sounds annoying but until we know for sure that you are safe, this is the best option.”  
Belle looked at her boyfriend and his friends.  She sighed. “Fine.  But I want to be clear.  Clint is not your spy.  So, if I’m doing something, he’s not going to be ratting me out or telling on me and you don’t get to call and ask for details.  Am I clear?” 
Steve clenched his jaw. “He only calls if he thinks if you are doing something dangerous.  Otherwise, I accept those terms.”  
Belle tilted her head to look at him.  Something was off but she knew Steve would only keep her best interest at heart.  “Deal.”  She leaned over and they sealed their agreement with a kiss.  “Ok, so since I need to organize some stuff, I’m headed back to the room. Clint, I guess I’ll see you on Monday?” 
“Yes ma’am.”  
“Eww, no. that’s not going to work.  Its either Belle or nothing Clint.”  She walked away with a smile.  
As soon as Belle cleared the room, Bucky gave a look to Steve.  “Why didn’t you tell her?” 
“She doesn’t need to know right now Buck.”  Steve sighed.  “I can’t tell her yet her history. She’ll be scared and she doesn't need to be.”  
“Steve, it’s not fair to her,” Clint said. “She has a right to know.”  
“I’ll tell her, just, not today, ok?  I have some work to do, excuse me.”  Steve stood up and went to his office.  He went to the window that overlooked the city and his mind went back to the conversation yesterday afternoon.  
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“I brought this for you and Miss Davis.”  He set a file folder on the table and slid it over.  “Apparently, this can no longer be a secret. I need to explain about Miss Davis.”  
“What are you talking about?”  Steve grabbed the file and opened it.  A picture of Belle was clipped to the front cover. “What the hell?” 
“Isabella Maria Davis is not just some girl.  She is special, unique even.” Fury looked at the men in the room.  “Stark has known her true identity for some time.  But because of today’s events and her new relationship, I am no longer in a position to keep her history a secret.”  
“Her history?” Bucky asked.  “When I went to check her out, it just says that she’s an orphan. I couldn’t even find her foster parents.”  
“That’s because she didn’t go into the system.  Phil Coulsen took Belle in as a baby and raised her.” Fury eyed Steve.  “You’re not surprised.”  
“Belle just told me last Friday who her father was. I haven’t said anything to her.” Steve examined the file.  “Why would a SHIELD agent, especially such a high level one, take on a one-year-old?” 
“That would be the million-dollar question.  Her biological parents were special agents to SHIELD.  And when they died, we made sure to take care of their child.”  
“Special agents how?” Clint asked.  
“Maria Davis was born Silvia Maria Pierce.  She is the daughter of Alexander Pierce.”  Steve stiffened at the name.  Pierce, deceased head of HYDRA, and one of its more powerful ones. Fury continued.  “She was considered to be the heir to HYDRA as Pierce had also married to a top HYDRA family.  He married Armand Zola’s daughter, Patrice.”  
“Jesus, fuck.  That would make Belle special to HYDRA.” Bucky ran his hands through his hair.  
“It would make her their heir in their own sick twisted way,” Tony said.  “Its why we wanted to keep her under the radar.”  He looks pointedly at Steve.  
“You said she was supposed to be hidden,” Steve asked looking at Fury and ignoring Tony.  “Then why have an agent date her?” The guys looked at him confused.  “Brock Rumlow dated Belle about four years ago.”  
“We didn’t order that.  Once Coulsen passed, Tony set up a scholarship for Belle to help her out once she got to college.  And we kept an eye on her but never interfered.  I wasn’t aware she dated anyone in college, let alone Rumlow. That must have been on a HYRDA order to check her out.  I’m surprise they didn’t just take her.”   
“Well, she did.  And he almost convinced her to leave school to go with him. Luckily, Belle was smarter than that and she stayed.” Steve massaged his temples.  “Why now?  Why do we need to know this now?” 
“Because we received a message from an unknown source concerning Miss Davis.”  Fury slid another folder towards the middle.  Steve grabbed it, read and then grounded his teeth.  
“Are you sure?”  
“It has to be her.”  
“Steve?” Bucky motioned for the folder. Steve passes it over, but Bucky can see the fury in his eyes.  
Captain,  You have what we want.   Hand over our heiress  Innocent lives will be sparred  Hail HYDRA 
“Rogers, I know I was against you being with Belle.” Tony sighed.  “But I won’t stop her happiness.  My recommendation is to get her close proximity protection until we can find whoever sent this and neutralize the threat.”  
“I agree,” Bucky replied.  “That’s why Clint’s here. I think he would do well with something like this.  Steve?” 
Steve studied the note again. “What choice do I have?  I need to protect her so Clint if you are on board then I will present it to her. But,” he stood up, “this has to stay between the Avengers for now.  No one, and I mean no one else gets to know about this.  I will update Nat and Sam. Tony, let’s see if we can find in the HYDRA files why they didn’t take Belle in the first place. Also, please let Wanda and Vision know about the situation as well.  Bruce, please work with Dr. Cho to make sure whatever was given to her will not have an adverse effects.”  Steve took a breath.  “As of right now, I’m back.  I’m picking my shield back up to save the one person who matters.  But no one breathes a word of this to Belle.”  
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NEXT
Taglist:
@patzammit
@texmexdarling
@slutforchrisjamalevans
@firephotogrl74
@tinkerbelle67
@before-we-get-started
@bunnyforhim
@alexakeyloveloki
@sunnyhummingbee
@whiskeytangofoxtrot555
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exhuastedpigeon · 2 years
Text
Nancy convinces Robin and Eddie they should go to their 30 year high school reunion in 2016 because “the point of going to reunions is to show off how far you’ve come”.
People are surprised to see them, they all left Hawkins in ‘87 after taking a gap year and no one had seen them since. Sure, they’d heard about Nancy Wheeler’s career, she’s made it her business to expose government corruption and has won a couple Pulitzers for it.
In fact, basically no one from their graduating class has them on social media outside of Nancy’s verified account.
So when Nancy, Robin, and Eddie all walk in together and Steve Harrington is with them, people are a little surprised and confused. They all assume they would have heard through the rumor mill that Nancy Wheeler married Steve Harrington.
Except they quickly realize that Nancy isn’t married to Steve, she’s married to Robin Buckley. Robin who apparently works for the U.N. as a translator. They got married they day it was legalized in 2015. Nancy proudly shows some of her old school paper club members the picture of them outside city hall in New York the day they got married.
Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington are also in the photo and when Becca from the paper asks if they were Robin and Nancy’s witnesses Robin jumps on and says that yeah they were and Nancy and Robin were Steve and Eddie’s witnesses.
The news that Steve Harrington married Eddie Munson spreads around the reunion like wildfire. Jeff from Hellfire gets the full story from them while other attendees eavesdrop.
The whole gang moved to New York in ‘87. Nancy and Robin both went to Columbia, Steve went to nursing school, and Eddie worked at a comic shop and played in whatever bands he could. Nancy and Robin graduated in in ‘91 and started working their way up in their respective fields, Steve started working as a RN in ‘92, Eddie kept working at the comic shop and found a band that played regular shows around the city and even got paid for it.
Steve and Eddie bought a house in Hoboken in 2008, they took advantage of the housing bubble bursting. Eddie opened a game shop in Hoboken in 2006. They had been living their since 2002 since it was way cheaper and Steve could commute in easily.
Nancy and Robin stayed in the city, they ended up with an great (rent controlled) 2 bedroom in the Village in 1999 and Robin insists she will live there until she dies.
They all get together at least once a week. It’s a wonderful life and by the end of the reunion everyone knows and only a few people are homophobic about it.
Eddie leaves satisfied and tells the group he never needs to come back to Hawkins. The other three agree.
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alliluyevas · 3 months
Text
Fic Author Interview (meme)
I was tagged by the lovely @heckofabecca. Thanks, Becca :)
1- How many works do you have on AO3?
71...I honestly was a bit surprised it was that many. I guess I've had that account a while and it adds up! Almost all of them are oneshots, though.
2- What's your total AO3 word count?
204,091.
3- What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
They're all ATLA, which makes sense when you think about it. ATLA is probably the second-biggest fandom I've written for other than ASOIAF, but ASOIAF is so big it's sometimes hard to get noticed. That being said, when I sort by hits, three of the top five are ASOIAF so I guess more people are reading those and not liking them. It probably helps that my top-kudos ATLA fics are all Zuko-centric and he's one of the most popular ATLA characters in fic whereas I think the ASOIAF topics I focus on are perhaps a bit more niche.
tongued with fire (728 kudos)
i got soul, but i'm not a soldier (714 kudos)
cold fire (655 kudos)
we die with the dying; we are born with the dead (597)
the sword and the pen (577 kudos)
4- Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to! I'll respond to all comments on recently published fic (unless it's a hate comment, which I delete) and for older works I try to respond, especially if it's a substantive comment. I like to engage with readers, especially since I tend to write a lot of really niche fandoms and it's nice to connect with other fans.
5- What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
probably either another atla fic that's set right after ursa leaves zuko and azula behind or this big love fic which has an ending that is... not necessarily angsty for the narrator but super bleak in context.
6- What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?
I don't typically write fluffy romantic fic (I usually do more bittersweet gen focused on family relationships) but I did when I participated in the Jaime/Brienne ship exchange a few times and this bakery-themed modern AU is probably my fluffiest/happiest ending. Exchanges are kind of fun because this is very much the type of fic I would not have ever written on my own.
7- Do you write crossovers?
I have not!
8- Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Yes, lol. My Lannister twins genderswap fic was very controversial among a certain subset of fans who vocally disagreed with my characterization (I will sum this up as them basically believing that genderswapped Jaime would just be canon Cersei which...lol). That's the only fic I've ever got hate comments on, though I did get a really bizarre comment back in ninth grade on FF.net before I migrated to ao3 where the person enjoyed the fic but also used the comment to grandstand against abortion, a topic that in no way was mentioned in my fic. Sir This Is A Wendy's.
9- Do you write smut?
I do write sex scenes but I wouldn't describe them as smut because they're non-explicit and mostly like fade to black stuff.
10- Have you ever had a fic stolen?
YES LMFAOOOOOOOO SOMEONE TOOK A MULTICHAPTER FIC I WROTE ABOUT NINA AND OLEG FROM THE AMERICANS AND SELF-PUBLISHED IT ON AMAZON AS AN EBOOK.
11- Have you ever had a fic translated?
I think someone asked if they could translate one of my fics into another language but it was years ago and I don't remember if they did it or not or which fic it was or even which language it was.
12- Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes, my first ever fic! Me and my best friend wrote it in sixth grade and it's an unfinished sequel to Ivanhoe. We never published it, though. It's really, really bad lol.
13- What's your all-time favorite ship?
Tony and Carmela Soprano. sorry. Not ship in the fandom sense but...relationship of all time. (I honestly tend to write for canon pairings that I want to build on, anyway). In the traditional sense of "wanting them to get together in canon", probably Jaime/Brienne.
14- What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
I honestly don't really have a lot of published WIPs, because I tend to do oneshots and if they're not ready they're just not published. Right now I do have a two-chapter Greek mythology/Iliad retelling I wrote in high school that is absolutely never going to get updated ever, but frankly I don't feel particularly strongly about finishing that. I did have an actual multichapter WIP with the Lannister genderswap fic that I really felt bad about not working on, but I finally finished it!
15- What are your writing strengths?
I think I'm good with dialogue and characterization! A lot of my fic focuses on precanon/younger versions of canon characters ("flashback fic") and I think I'm pretty good at developing backstories. Also if I may say so myself, I write decent prose.
16- What are your writing weaknesses?
Plotting, which is why I tend to do shorter character-study stories. I really struggle with doing actual plotlines. (This is also a problem in my original fiction, lol. I'm always like. Okay I have these fascinating people in an interesting setting. Now what the hell are they going to do).
17- What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
If it makes sense in context, like a bilingual character, sure. I do think it should probably be written so that it's clear what is going on to readers who only know the primary language of the fic, though.
18- What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Other than the aforementioned Ivanhoe sequel, it was Harry Potter.
19- What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?
Can't really think of anything!
20- What's your favorite fic you've written?
I'm very proud of the Lannister genderswap fic because it's probably my most significant achievement in terms of plotting, which as I mentioned is hard for me, and I'm really happy I returned to it after over a year's hiatus and finished it! I'm also really proud of this big love fic because I appreciate the effort I put into fleshing out the characters' world (including historical research) and I think it is a really good work of character study.
Tagging @when-did-this-become-difficult @ofhouseadama and anyone else who wants to do this, I can't think of many mutuals on here whose fanfiction output I'm particularly familiar with.
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