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poeghoul · 7 months

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hard times

in which harry is grumpy and mean and has a scary job

word count: 3,315 warnings: angst, semi-mafia!harry, a single mention of drugs, semi-gun violence, harassment. do not read if opposed to any of the topics mentioned. authors note: i haven’t written in years so this may be bad. inspired by "western nights" by ethel cain.

Harry met Niall at a small diner called The Vinyl booth at 9:37pm, an oddly specific time Niall gave to him, Harry thought. Niall had been interested in forming a connection with Harry, seeing as he’s the biggest drug supplier in all of northern California. Niall loved The Vinyl Booth; he loved taking his girls there every other Sunday after church. It was a warm, cozy diner, with checkered flooring and a jukebox that only worked if you kicked it in the right spot.

“Harry!” Niall exclaimed, excited to finally be meeting with him after hearing about him for so long. Harry gave him a curt nod as Niall put his hand out for him. Harry took his and grunted as Niall brought him in for a weird semi hug that men do. “Good to finally meet ya,” Niall smiled and held the door open for him, a little bell attached to the handle sounded. Harry walked in first as Niall followed behind and stood while they waited for someone to seat them.

“Niall? What are you doing here so late?” A girl approached the two men, smiling at Niall before grabbing two menus.

“Y/n!” Niall exclaimed, returning an even bigger smile than she had initially sent him, “just needed a little late night treat.”

“Of course you did, come on,” she led the two to a corner booth, “I’ll be back with some coffee.” She smiled at the two and Harry noticed she hadn’t greeted him or even made eye contact with him once, which infuriated him; he was used to everyone showing him the respect he swears he deserves.

She walked back with two small gray ceramic mugs in her hands before turning again to get the coffee pot (Harry assumed they hadn’t brewed a fresh batch in some hours, disgusting him even more than he already was with the sticky menu he was holding). She went to pour some into Nialls mug before Harry decided to speak up.

“When was that brewed?” Y/n looked up as she stopped pouring the coffee.

“Um,” she paused, trying to remember when she last even touched the pot, “maybe around 5,” she shrugged, phrasing it more as a question than a statement.

Harry scoffed, “and you expect us to be okay with drinking that?” he practically shouted at the girl; she was taken aback, furrowing her brows and cocking her head to the side. “Get him a new mug and brew a fresh batch, we’re not drinking coffee that’s been sitting out for nearly five hours.” he spat. Niall went to speak up and Harry shot him the deadliest glare the man had ever seen, effectively shutting Niall up.

“I’ll get on it,” she murmured as she bowed her head, picked up Nialls mug and spun on her heel, heading towards the sink to dump out the hour's old coffee.

“You didn’t have to shout at her, Harry,” Niall scolded the man like he was a four year old. Harry just looked at him and shook his head, going to speak up before deciding against it.

The bell on the door rang. It was one of his security guards; he had told both (one of them planning on coming in three before 10pm, the time they closed) to observe the interaction between the two men; one to scope out Niall, and two to make sure Harry made it out alive. With what Harry did, not making it out of the diner was an option. The burly man sat down in a booth facing Harry directly.

Y/n was at the coffee pot, pouring in new coffee grinds and pressing at the brewing options, though there couldn’t have been more than one option with how old the machine was. She looked up as the man sat down, a puzzled look taking over her features; Harry couldn’t stop staring.

Y/n approached him, “Hi,” she smiled at him, “I’m y/n I’ll be taking care of you today, can I start you off with some coffee? I’m brewing some right now so it’ll be the freshest coffee of your life,” she joked with him, purposefully being loud enough for Harry to hear; he just narrowed his eyes at her and, instead of gazing at her, he began glaring. The man just nodded. She gave a half smile before walking back to where the two men were sat, pulling out a small notepad and pen from her apron. “Oki doki, Niall I know what you want already,” she smiled at him, a dimple forming in her cheek. She looked at Harry, “how about you? Have enough time to look the menu over?” He hadn’t even opened it.

“No,” he said simply. Her smile faded, a puzzled look taking over her features.

“Oh, well, do you have any questions?” She tucked her pen and notepad into a small pocket on the black apron that was folded and tied around her waist.

“No,” he replied, a bitter tone, “I would like some fresh coffee though, if you’re capable,” he tried his hardest to contain his smirk.

If y/n didn’t care about her job, she’d bark at him. If y/n didn’t care about the owners and how close she had gotten to them, she would’ve taken her pen from her apron and jammed it in his hand with all her might. And if y/n had the guts to either of those, she would. She cares, though, far too much to do either of those; so instead, she smiled and prayed that her eye wouldn’t start twitching.

“Of course, sir,” she turned and rolled her eyes, mimicking him under her breath. Harry heard her, but didn’t say anything. She grabbed another mug and the coffee pot, almost burning her knuckles in the process. She placed Nialls mug before him and poured into his new one, making sure to leave room for creamer. “Room for cream?” She made eye contact with Harry. He shook his head, humming a ‘no’. She tried her best to fill it to where it would spill on him if he picked it up too quickly, and made her way to the only other patron in the small diner. The bell on the door rang again, but it wasn’t who Harry was expecting.

Y/n looked up at the character who walked into and watched as he walked past her and sat at the counter. Nobody ever came in this late, three of them looked scary and they were all men. She felt her heart skip some beats in the worst way. Thankfully, two of the cooks were here, but they were already upset with her for seating guests twenty something minutes before closing.

She walked behind the counter, setting the pot down on the heater, and walked to the man at the counter. She noticed his red ringed, dark brown eyes. “Hi, I’m y/n,” she started her script, “I’ll be taking care of you tonight, what can I get ya started with?” She grabbed her notepad and pen, again, hoping he knew what he wanted to eat so she’d have an excuse to go into the back, wanting to be with the men she’d known for some time, rather than three suspicious men and Niall (who, according to her, was far too gentle to hurt a fly).

He smiled at her; it made her stomach curl. “Orange juice, please, and a mixed cheese omelette.” She scribbled in her notepad, muttering a ‘got it’ before scrambling to the back to put the order in.

“So,” Niall began, causing Harry to finally look away from the door the girl had basically run through. “I know you didn’t agree to meeting me here for the chorizo and eggs plate,” he joked at Harry. He gave a curt nod. Niall cleared his throat. “I know you have a busy schedule, so I’ll get right to it,” the bell on the door sounded again. Three minutes before closing, right on time. His other bodyguard walked past the two and sat at another end of the counter. Y/n peaked her head through the swinging door, looking around before setting her eyes on the last patron to walk in. She sighed before walking out and giving him her whole spiel.

“Coffee, please,” the man smiled at her. She was grateful for someone, other than Niall, to show her some kindness in a non creepy way. She turned to grab another mug and the pot of coffee and made her way back to him.

“Long night?” she asked him while pouring into his mug. He nodded and smiled at her, offering her a thank you. Harry felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest.

Niall continued to speak to him, though Harry tuned him out, granting him responses in the form of grunts. He watched the girl bring out the orange juice for the boy at the counter before going into the back and returning with a bowl of prepackaged creamers. “Sorry, Niall, the creamers completely slipped my mind.”

“Not a big deal, y/n, I knew you’d get around to it,” he reached into the bowl, grabbing a package and ripping it open to pour into his coffee. He did that four more times, turning the near black brown to a light, almost white shade.

She looked at Harry, his eyes already on her, “finally decided?” he shook his head. She just stared, no emotion on her face.

“Just get him the same thing as me, please” Niall awkwardly cut in. Y/n’s gaze softened, looking at him and smiled, before nodding and walking off. Harry, still, couldn’t stop staring; watching how she walked and moved and how she reacted to every word said to her. He also noticed how the boy at the counter did the same. Niall continued to talk at him about a deal he was wishing to make. Something about expanding Harry’s territory and getting a small cut. From what Harry heard, it wasn’t a bad proposal.

+++

“Thanks, again, for meeting with me, Harry” Niall shook his hand, a beaming smile plastered on his face. Harry offered him a pursed smile in return. “Get home safe.” Harry nodded, watching as Niall turned to walk to his car.

Harry turned to his, getting in the backseat, greeted by his bodyguard, Daniel, who’d entered the restaurant earlier. They sat in silence as they waited for the final of the two men, Jax, to return to the car. Harry had sent him a message halfway through their meal, asking (more like demanding) him to stay in the diner until the skeptical character had left; he left a bitter taste in Harry’s mouth and he just wanted to ensure the safety of the girl he was fascinated by.

He waited. And waited. Bit at his nails, ran his hands through his hair, groaned many times and waited even more.

Time seemed to go by so slowly. He stared into the window, watching the three of them closely. His left leg was bouncing up and down, an unfamiliar sense of anxiety coursing through him. Huffing through his nose, he ran his hand through his hair. He hated how he was feeling, and judging by her body language, she was feeling similarly.

Y/n stood with the coffee pot, having had to make another batch as the group of men continued to order more and more cups throughout the night, waiting for the two men to leave so she could crawl into bed. She had been here close to eleven hours now, and was growing anxious being practically trapped in a room with two strange men she had never seen, especially since the two cooks had left for the night (she was too scared to ask them to stay, not wanting to be a bother but she desperately regrets that now).

The bigger man of the two sat glaring at the smaller one, watching his every move. Y/n could tell he was growing uncomfortable with harsh eyes on him at all times; it made her feel safer, though.

The small one offered her a small smile, asking for the check silently. She felt a wave of relief to soon have him out of her hair. She couldn’t wait to leave; she had already wiped down all the tables, swept, asked the two men if they’d be paying cash or card, and when they both replied with card, she closed out the cash drawer on the register. She was eager, practically vibrating. Nothing planned for the night, she just couldn’t wait to step outside into the fresh air, feeling suffocated in the small space of the diner.

She handed the small receipt to him and he immediately offered her his card, making sure to graze her hand with his. She noted how cold and pale it was. A small ‘thank you’ before a pursed smile graced her features. She ran his card through the machine, printed a receipt and handed the two over. He smiled at her, leaving a ten on the counter before walking out.

Outside, Harry noted the movement inside the diner, watching the weird man walk out of the restaurant and around the corner to where, he assumed, was a back alley. Jax walked out shortly after, y/n walking to the door behind him to lock it before heading to the back, but he hesitated to leave, still. The lights shut off shortly after. He couldn’t make out much more.

The door opened and, though he could barely see her silhouette, he could tell she was locking the door behind her. She stood in front of the diner, typing away at her phone. He groaned at how oblivious she was to her surroundings. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a head peeking around a corner. He unlocked his door, prepared to jump to her defense at any given moment. The man who peeked around the corner fully emerged and walked up behind y/n, his hands in the pockets of his oversized jacket. He said something to her, Harry couldn’t hear what, and she practically jumped out of her skin. She turned around with wide eyes and slipped her phone in her back pocket.

“Oh,” she gasped, “hey, did you leave anything inside?”

He grinned at her, “no, actually was just wondering what you were up to after this.” she gulped.

“Um,” she tried to think of something, anything, to lie about, but blanked. “I’m just, uh, gonna hang out with my friends,” she rushed out. His grin turned into a smirk.

“You sure?” She nodded. His smirk vanished. “You’re lying.” she shook her head, a small ‘I’m not’ escaping her lips. “Yes, you are,” he stepped closer to her, “I hate liars.”

“I’m not lying,” she backed up, her breathing picking up. He stepped even closer.

“Now you’re lying again,” he glared down at her, “must I teach you what happens to liars?” Her eyes began to well with tears. A car door slammed. A gun pressed against the boy's temple. His eyes widened.

“Touch her and I’ll blow your fucking head off,” Harry snarled, pressing the gun even harder against him.

“I-I wasn’t, I swear, I swear,” he barely made out. Tears began pouring out of y/n’s eyes.

“Okay, so then tell me what you were gonna do, hm,” with his free hand, Harry grabbed y/n, pulling her behind him. She hid her face in his back and gripped his shirt in both hands, trying to focus on controlling her breathing.

“Nothing! Nothing, I swear,” he cried out.

“You swear, hm?” he let out a breathy laugh, “Why’d you wait for her, hm? Why’d you hide back there?” The boy’s mouth just opened and closed; Harry held back a laugh. “Say something, don’t be shy. You weren’t a minute ago.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right now if you let me, I swear, I promise!” He began to sob.

Harry just pressed harder, “that’s not what I asked, though, is it?” The boy shook his head as best as he could, “then answer my questions.”

“I just, I wanted to see her.”

Harry laughed, “so you wanted to see her, and you couldn't have done it in a normal manner? Couldn’t have asked to hang out rather than hiding in a fucking alley waiting for her when you knew she’d be most vulnerable, fucking scum,” he spat out, inching his face closer to his.

He sobbed, “I’m so sorry.”

Harry moved the gun from his temple, but not before he pressed a little bit harder. “Get in the car,” he muttered, keeping the gun pointed at him and ushering y/n with his back towards the backseat of a black Range Rover. She opened the door and jumped in before Harry did the same. He put the gun in his holster, secured under his jacket. He looked to y/n, who was shaking in the middle seat. “You okay?” She nodded, her face down, staring at her fingers picking at a loose thread on her jeans. “I’m sorry,” Harry apologized to her, anger surged through his veins and he wished he could get out and have the opportunity to pull the trigger pointed to the back of the boy's head. The car started and pulled out of the parking lot. “We’ll take you home, I’ll send someone to stay in the general area for your safety,” she looked up at him with watery eyes.

“Okay.”

“Can you give me an address, please,” he handed the phone to her, with trembling hands she took it and typed out her address. It was a six minute walk. “How were you planning to get home?” she handed back the phone.

“I walk.”

“For every shift?” she nodded. “I don’t like that,” he admitted.

“It’s only, like, five minutes,” she shrugged, still not making eye contact.

“Still don’t like it,” he ran his hands through his hair, sighing. She picked at her nails, chewing on her bottom lip.

The drive was short, two right turns and they arrived at her apartment complex. Harry opened the door and helped her out, following her up the stairs, standing close behind her as she unlocked the door.

“It’s a little messy, sorry,” she opened the door and led him in. He stood in the entryway, taking in the details of the decorations that filled the small space (it was a small studio apartment, big enough for Y/n, but far too small for Harry). Her bed wasn’t made, with halloween sheets and decorative pillows on the floor next to the bed, and the only chair in the apartment was covered in laundry.

“It’s not bad,” he looked down at her while she gazed at him. Harry loved the way she looked at him and hated that he loved it.

“Thank you for taking me home and ya know,” she smiled at him. He nodded.

“I’ll send someone to take you to work and bring you home for the next few days, need to make sure you’re safe,” he took a deep breath in, stepping closer to her, his hand reaching up to graze her cheek, resting it as he caressed the soft skin with the pad of his thumb. He looked down at her, a glint in his eyes she couldn’t make out. His gaze shifted to her lips, his hand stilled and she tilted her head up in the slightest.

His expression changed, he removed his hand, and he stepped back. “You’ll know when they’re here. Goodnight,” and with that, he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Her cheek felt cold.

She missed his touch.

And that would be all she thought about for the rest of the night.

troubles always gonna find you baby, but so will i.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fics #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harry one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry #harry styles fiction #Ethel cain

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 months

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Modern!Nat Being Your Dealer

summary - natasha romanoff is your dealer, and you go to collect your order, however you seem to have forgotten something important… though there is another way that you can pay for your addiction (2.1k)

warnings - 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, drug dealing, sex in place of payment, swearing

natasha romanoff works other mcu works masterlist

Everyone struggled in life, and once in a while they needed a little help. There were many ways people went about that, some people went to therapy, others enjoyed a good book, others listened to waves that had been recorded for that specific purpose. But none of those spectacles of aid made you feel any better.

And thus you had turned to substances instead of white noise, specifically one that was more common and less harmful - weed. A large majority of the population did it, and it was nothing to be ashamed about, it just made you unwind from the trauma that skulked in the darkest parts of your mind and coaxed you into a resting state of sleep.

Unbuckling your seat belt, you climbed out of your beat convertible, locking the vehicle behind yourself as you strode towards the locked hinges of your e of dealer's door. It felt suspenseful every time that you came here, knowing that it could be your last if your supplier was overturned by the forces for her illegal actions actions, and you wouldn't exactly be ignored pu so for purchasing from her.

But everything looked crisp and normal, just the way you liked it. Quickly as to not avert any attention you shot Natalia, the Russian importer a text letting her know that you had arrived to the destination where she handled business. It felt like a lifetime as you awaited for her to open the door and usher you inside, and once she unlocked the barricade of privacy you felt like you were hit by a brick.

It didn't matter how many times that you had seen the astoundingly attractive redhead, you always felt as though you were experiencing whiplash from being greeted with her appearance. It was an unruly kind of magnetism that she styled herself with, her lipstick was blurred subtly past the lines of her actual lips, her short bob was twisted with curls that she had no doubt patiently toyed with as she sat there, looming behind the frosted windows for her buyers.

And you were no more than another one of them, you had to remind yourself, even as slithered past her, both of your breasts briefly brushing as she allowed you entry before she followed your footsteps to the main room after bolting the door shut to as it had been. As usual you took a seat in the dusty and quaint living area as usual, her taking place opposite you as she disgustedly brushed specks off the fabric arm of the chair.

"I don't live here if that's what you're wondering." She smirked, making it undoubtedly clear that her tastes were too clean to permanently reside in a place like this. "So I'll take it you're picking up the usual?" It was the safe assumption on her part, there was no kindness in coaxing you to spend more on the grams of freedom that she rationed out for a price. Not to mention, with spare product there would no doubt be another soul that was prepared to take it off her hands.

"Yeah, please." A curt nod had the woman lounging her body to stretch so that she could pick up the complimentary medicine that she had self prescribed you for. The normal amount was visible through the small and clear baggy that carried the goods, and you immediately rushed to find the notes that would allow you to proceed in your pockets. But they were gone. Shit. This was the last thing that you needed after the day that you had endured with the whispers of thought that clouded your brain.

Panic settled over you, and thus with a dry mouth it was with wise decision that you chose to speak up. There was no point beating around the bush, after all this was your first slip up when it came to this, and you prayed to every ethereal being that it would be the last. "I seemed to have forgotten to put the cash in this jacket, would it be okay if i were to come by later to collect again?" It was embarrassing really, there was nothing that screamed being newer to the scene of all this mutual transaction than forgetting the payment.

"Trial and error one would say." Nat slouched back, dropping the bag mockingly in her lap so that you could see. "The problem is I'm not available for business later." So stupid, you thought to yourself, insulting yourself because she wouldn't for your blatant and misconducted dumb foolery. It certainly may have ben a mistake, but you were no doubt paying for it because you could not pay for what you had really wanted. With a gulp of apologetic waver of disregard, you stood on your two feet, eyeing the door as your escape.

You were just about to begin walking when the red headed conductor silenced all movement your body was ready to perform. "Uh, uh, uh." The noise of scolding that she proclaimed towards you made your heart beat a little faster, afraid that she was going to refuse future service to you altogether. However much you dreaded what she was going to say, you politely listened, intending to remain on her good side. "If you have time to spare, I don't mind being paid in other ways..."

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean." Maybe it was plain obliviousness to Nat's ultimatum of a suggestion, or perhaps you didn't quite believe your body's instinct to the prowess in her eyes that made your spine coil in a retrograde of quivering arousal, but you avertedly decided to play it dumb. She stood, and strode towards you like a vixen, her wide eyes scorning every inch of your vessel, humming contentedly to herself.

"Don't be so naive little y/n," her tongue peeked out from her mouth, swiping languidly across her plump bottom lip. "You'll still be a respectable woman, you'll just have to respect me too... in an intimate way." Thinking to yourself, the hunger that ran through your veins which yearned for the intoxicating compulsion of the confident redhead was strivingly eager, and the addictive stock that sold, was endless.

"W-what did you have in m-mind?" You wanted some clarification before you drowned yourself in an action that could exempt you from her clientele, even if she had been explicit, only leaving the details of prolific actions out from her spoken equation. The thumping of your heart beat within your ears, running through your bloodstream that was declining from a subsidised high, as you ogled curiously at the the woman with priceless leverage.

"We all have things we want y/n," she admitted vaguely before going into detail, "and I, in exchange want you to give me an orgasm." Her hands rubbed soothingly up your arms, her skin surprisingly cold upon your flesh. She could sense your nervousness, it was openly apparent as you shivered for both her touch and the calming rush that would absorb itself into your form.

"Okay." You spoke meekly, withholding how eager you were to persevere provocatively towards the mysterious woman. A coy smile weaved its route upon her defining features, causing your walls to flutter obscenely below where they were dressed. You'd always thought that you would be above soliciting yourself in exchange for anything, but it proved to show that you could never be certain on an agenda until you came to the crossroads of it.

Your tongue poked outside of your mouth, nervously grooming the indents and crevices at the corner of your lips, preparing yourself for what Natasha was expecting. It made you realise how little you truly knew about the woman before you, the name that she had given you to address her by may have all been a hoax, to conceal her identity from any enforcers whom bought the stronger stuff from ratting her out to the feds.

But in the predicament that you had stumbled obliviously into, you needed to be nothing more than acquainted, it wasn't love, it was just business derived from the figments of pleasure, and whilst you were allured by the pros and cons that weighed argumentatively in your mind, you couldn't help but give this instance a block from your overthinking mindset. "I'm glad to hear," she conveyed, causing a deep laughter within her chest to be released as she noticed how tense that you had become.

She liked to see you squirm, she had decided. And perhaps next time you would forget payment again, of course she wouldn't mind if your skills were up to her standards of course, and if they weren't, she would unshackle the bedroom nerves that you were enduring with her own set of amorous control. The air hung thick between the both of you as she strolled casually back towards the seat that she had already claimed prior to your arrival, sitting down and spreading her clothed legs wide.

"Come here, and make me cum." Her instructions were far too persuasive, and you couldn't refrain from doing as you were told, willingly you fell to your denim clad jeans, watching intently as Nat unbuttoned her own trousers. "I don't even need to tell you what to do." She verbally observed, pushing down the layers covering her bottom half, including her lace designed panties. Her actions served you with the view of her core, and the sight made you salivate.

A part of you felt dirty, but you procured it in an encouraging way, as this was exactly how she wanted to see you. The position that you were in made warmth flush between your legs, even more so when her drug dealing hand swept into your hair, pulling your face closer to her cunt with the harsh grip that she had. You glanced up to watch her lust drowning eyes, before you entangled your lips with her lower ones, tasting her juices on your tongue.

You ran your tongue up her slit a few times, testing the waters before you suctioned your lips around your clit, sucking on the nerve filled bud, her body being devoured by heavenly sensations. "Fuck me." Her breath cast the words out as her emerald irises became obliterated by the bleakness of her pupils, and in a way you were, and to fuck her further into the pleasure that was flooding her veins, you raised your dominant hand, tracing your fingers around her slick entrance.

With integral driven lust, you pushed one of your digits inside of her, her hand weaving tighter within your locks, and forcing your face further into her cunt. You were amidst in an overwhelming sense of reality, as you hollowed your cheeks so that you could put more pressure around her clit. Her mouth gaped open as she leant sporadically in her seat, her hips bucking into your jawline as her legs wrapped around the back of your head.

Pumping your fingers at a quicker pace, you could feel her walls contracting around you tighter, and her moans evoking to a higher pitch. Her sounds echoed around the room that was in need of more furniture, and you knew that she was getting close, and so you continued on with your actions, daring to enter another finger inside of her, which made her reach her breaking point. Her lips floundered in a silent scream, as she came around the fingers that you had stuffed inside of her.

You continued slowly with drawing out her orgasm, before you pulled back and allowed breath to be inhaled through your mouth, removing your fingers so that you had the opportunity to lick them clean. After a few minutes passed, she unravelled her legs from how they had been pressed around your skull, deciding to sit up straighter, as she glowered at you, returning to her formal confirmation.

Silently she slid her underwear and bottoms back up her legs, leaving her fly open as she watched you stand before her, almost desperately. She was almost convinced to return the favour, but that wasn't what it was, instead it was payment, and she had the professionalism to an extent to make that clear. "Pleasure doing business with you again. Here's what you wanted." She threw the baggy at you, and surprisingly to yourself, you had caught the clear packaging that was filled with your goods.

In all honesty you had forgotten all about the weed, you had fallen into a spiral of delightful passion, and you could still taste her on your lips. Now it felt awkward, she was awaiting for your departure without a doubt as she expectedly nodded towards the door. "Uh, thanks." You fumbled with the bag, finding yourself to forget your money again, with purpose, the next time that you visited her to collect.

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lowkeyerror · 2 months

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The Family Business Ch.8

WandaNatxReader

Word Count: 3k

Ch notes: Angst, Nightmares, Fighting

Summary: The family copes with the situation revolving Dragos

An: Sorry for posting so late.... hope you like it. Also posting from my phone, so sorry formatting issues.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“ Enough time has passed Wanda. We have to act now before we lose everything,” you speak to the woman in her office.

“I'm not ready for war Y/n,” She tries to dismiss you.

“Detka, I think she’s right. If we wait any longer it could, everything your father built would be over,” Natasha backs you up.

Wanda puts her head down on the desk, "I don't think I can do this.”

“It’s just like we planned, Wanda. Nat and I have everything on standby to close the ports, we’re just waiting on your word,” you speak softly to her.

“Fine, just do it,” she waves her hand, but doesn’t move her face from it’s place on the desk.

She had been like this for nearly two weeks. The shooting of her father seemed to hit her the hardest. She felt like she wasted too much time away from him and now he was gone.

The only way you were functioning was hope that he would wake up. He wasn’t gone, he was just in a coma. People recover from being in comas, they wake up. You just keep telling yourself that Dragos would be waking up soon.

“Wanda, maybe you should go home, I can handle this,” your eyes are full of worry, but your voice is firm.

“I’m capable of running this business Y/n,” she snaps back at you.

“ I know you are, that’s why they put you in charge. However, this is not a one man job Wanda. Dragos had days where he needed someone to take charge. I’m one of those people. Whether he’s sitting in that seat or you’re sitting in that seat, I’m going to continue to be that person. Now go home.”

She looks at you with something you’ve never seen before. It makes your brow furrow. The intensity of her stare isn’t malicious, but it’s unfamiliar to you.

“I’ll take you baby,” Nat offers, taking Wanda’s attention away from you.

Wanda takes one more look at you before agreeing to go with her wife.

“Stop by after work, I don’t care how late it is,” her demand makes you want to gulp, but you hold it and nod.

She’s out of the door first. You share a look with Natasha as you take s seat at the desk.

“I’ll be back, I can have everything ready for tonight,” the spy says.

“Thank you, Natasha.”

She leaves and you get to work immediately. You call in your dealers and suppliers to inform them of potential uptick in all products your pushing to prepare them adequately. You call your supposed allies, you’re vague but they know it’s a threat. More than threat, but a test of loyalty. Some of them dismiss you as you aren’t Dragos, but you’re sure by morning they’ll come around or go out of business.

There had been too much silence on your side of the business. Fisk was parading around the city saying that he killed Dragos. The lack of movement from your side of things only made it seem true.

Wanda had been placed temporarily in charge of the business while Dragos was out of commission. However, she wasn't emotionally prepared for this yet. None of you were in actuality, you all needed more time.

“ Where’s Wanda?” Pietro strolls into the office.

Your eyes are locked on the screen, “ Sent her home.”

“You’re running things today?”

You nod, “We’re going through with the plan to shut down the pier tonight. I put out some feelers, stayed pretty vague. I know they'll get on board when there's no other option.”

“You sound like him,” Pietro chuckles.

“I hope so, I got brushed off by one too many people over the phone. We need to let them know we aren’t weak. We will not be usurped, we are this city and it’s time to remind them.”

Pietro agrees, “My eyes and ears on the street have been telling me about Kingpin He’s telling others he fixed the Maximoff issue. We need to get a handle on this.”

“They will be dealt with and I’ll save Fisk for last. Next time I wont miss when I shoot,” your jaw clenches.

“How are you holding up?” He asks, taking in your appearance.

The bags under your eyes spoke for themselves. You hadn’t been sleeping well, getting 3 hours seems like a blessing some days.

“Not well, but I’ll be alright.”

“You haven’t been sleeping.”

You sigh, “How can I rest well, knowing that the man who has taken someone important from me walks around the streets celebrating it? It’s like he’s taunting me.”

Pietro’s hand lands on your shoulder, “We’re going to get him Y/n, I swear.”

Natasha strolls back into the room, “I’ve got everything set we're just waiting on nightfall.”

“Good, I’m almost done here. I’ve got some paperwork to get through and if it’s not too late, maybe we can carpool?”

Natasha smiles, “I’ll wait for you, it’s no problem.”

“I guess we’ll leave you to it Don Y/n,” Pietro jokes as he pats your shoulder before exiting the office, Natasha’s following behind him.

The paperwork takes longer than expected. You’re exhausted by the end of it, your eyes are strained as you finish the last of it up.

When Natasha comes to check on you , she can tell you’ve dissociated from the work you’re doing. It looks mindless yet stressful at the same time. You don’t even notice she's standing there for another 10 minutes.

“Ok you’re done, lisichka. Time to go home,” Natasha’s voice startles you.

You give her little protest, moving out of the seat. Your bones crack and you let out a yawn as you grab your belongings.

“Wanda’s going to need help tomorrow. The lines should be busy. We can open them up so Kate and I can help filter orders,” you mumble as you leave the office.

“No more work talk, we’re out of the office,” Natasha reminds you.

You let out a tired laugh, “Now you’re sounding like a Maximoff."

“I am married to one,” she says as the two of you get in her car.

“I don't know who's luckier you or her.”

Natasha quirks an eyebrow as she begins to dive, “I’m pretty sure it's me.”

“You’re good for her too; don't discredit yourself. Wanda has always been a caregiver of sorts. She wants to take care of everyone. It's nice to see she has someone who can take care of her,” your eyes begin to close as you speak.

“You’ve taken care of her before. When she was fighting with Pietro, the whole situation with Dragos; you kept her grounded,” Natasha points out.

You shrug lightly, “I couldn't when I was younger.”

Natasha glances at your nearly sleeping figure, “You were just a child, lisichka.”

“I was fragile, she needed someone strong,” you feel sleep overtaking you.

Natasha goes to respond, but hears you snoring softly, “I don't think you could've ever been fragile.”

The spy doesn't wake you when you arrive at the condo. Instead she carefully removes you from the car and carries you up to her door. She rings the bell unable to get her keys while holding you.

When Wanda opens the door her eyes soften at the sight of you asleep in her wife’s arm.

“I didn't want to wake her. I overheard her telling Pietro she hasn't been sleeping,” Nat explains to her wife.

“Just lay her in our bed,” Wanda says, and Natasha complies.

Wanda heads to the kitchen, unable to sleep. She stays to make herself some tea.

“She cares about you a lot,” Natasha says meeting her wife in the kitchen.

Wanda just hums a response.

“You care about her a lot too,” Natasha looks to meet her wife’s gaze.

“Astute observation, sweetheart,” Wanda responds dryly.

Natasha steps into Wanda’s personal space, “You know what I’m insinuating then?”

Wanda finally looks at her wife, “No I don’t.”

“I think you're in love with her,” Natasha is gentle when she speaks.

Wanda laughs, “What are you talking about? Y/n is a part of my family. I’ve cared for her for years; healed her wounds, held her when she cried, taught her how to defend herself. Natasha, she was barley turning 17 when I met her.”

“I see the way you look at her Wanda. It’s the same way you look at me,” her tone doesn’t convey anger or sorrow.

Wanda’s laughter has yet to die down, “She’s my little brother’s best friend.”

“Then tell me why she can ground you the same way I can? Her touch calms you, her look quiets you, and her figure causes your eyes to drift. Just be honest with me Wanda.”

“Look, I love Y/n. I would do anything to keep her safe, but there’s nothing between us romantically,” Wanda gets serious for the first time in the conversation.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “You lost your mind about something from 5 years ago involving her, you were in tears when you couldn't attend her graduation, you talked about her more than your brother, mother, and father.”

Wanda’s eyes shift for a second, it’s the only sign Natasha needs. Her hand reach for her wife’s. Her thumbs pad the back of Wanda’s hand.

“Baby-”

“Natasha I can’t. I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she tries to escape but Natasha won’t let her.

“Talk to me, detka.”

For a moment it seems like Wanda is going to talk it out with her wife. However a commotion in their bedroom puts brakes to the conversation.

They both rush in that direction. In the bedroom they find you fighting in your sleep. You’re thrashing, punching, and screaming.

Wanda’s eyes go wide at the sight. The distress on your face send her into fight or flight. She wants to help, but she’s unaware of what to do.

Natasha on the other hand has had her fair share of life like nightmares. She knows how delicate of a situation that they can be.

“Easy lisichka, it’s not real,” Natasha’s voice is firm as she speaks, slowly inching towards you.

Natasha’s hand slowly reaches for your forearm. The action cause you to jerk, but Natasha is unflinching. Her hands trailing up and down your arm trying to calm you.

“Baby you’re safe here,” Natasha slips her fingers between yours.

It’s sudden the way you jolt forward into consciousness. Natasha’s arms wrap around you securely as your chest heaves up and down.

Wanda joins your side, hand running through your hair, “It’s ok, you’re ok. You’re safe little krolik.”

You sniffle a couple of times. Before realizing the position you're in. You sit in a bed that you can only assume belongs to the two women, that are slowing your erratic heart rate.

“I uh- I fell asleep in the car,” you say pushing the women away from you slightly.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and then rub at your eyes roughly. The feeling of embarrassment starts to creep in on you.

“ You did, exhausted from all that work and no sleep,” Natasha says.

You nod lightly, “As you can see I have a hard time with sleeping.”

“It’s like that every night?” Wanda’s voice was laced with concern.

You try to laugh it off, “I get by with the little sleep I get before the nightmares.”

“Y/n, we’re being serious,” Wanda’s use of your actual name startles you a bit.

You take a deep breath, “Nearly every night since the shooting. But I’m a big girl guys, I’ve got it under control.”

“Wanda’s been having trouble sleeping too. If I leave just for a second, she starts panicking pretty bad,” Natasha mentions, causing her wife to glare at her.

Wanda crosses her arms over her chest defensively and that’s how you know Natasha is telling the truth.

“I’ve been trying to run a company and a business. There’s no time for a comfortable rest.”

It was your turn to give a stern look, “You won’t be able to lead well if all your senses are weakened from lack of sleep.”

“And how much sleep did you get last night before so graciously kicking me out of the office today?” She counters and your face heats up.

“It's not like I don't want to sleep. I’ve tried a bunch of shit, but nothing is enough for the nightmares. It’s triggering, you know because not only are the nightmares themselves intense, but having them in the first place reminds me the ones I used to have about my family.”

Though you've arguably been vulnerable with both of these women before, it feels harder this time. It feels like they are seeing a piece of you that is supposed to be neatly tucked away. Yet you’re too tired to hide it and you trust them not to use it against you.

“If you’re comfortable with it, I know something that might help,” Natasha offers.

“I’m willing to try anything,” you give her your full attention.

“Stay here with us tonight,” her eyes pierce through yours.

“Here as in…”

“The bed, yes,” Natasha elaborates.

Almost reflexively you look to Wanda to find her staring at her wife. The look isn’t entirely inviting and you take note of that.

You look directly towards Wanda as you speak, “I don't want to impose or be anymore of an inconvenience than I already have. I can actually just go home and try again.”

You attempt to get out of bed, but Wanda places a hand on your chest, keeping you down, “Y/n, you will never be an inconvenience to me. I don't want to keep you here if you’re uncomfortable, but if Nat thinks this could help you then I think it’s worth a shot.”

Your skin is hot under her hand, and you hope she can’t feel the way your heart is beating. It truly shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, you’ve laid with Wanda before . You knew what it was like to have her arms tightly secured around you while she played with your hair until your nerves died. Something about it felt more innocent then.

Now that you were both adults and Wanda was married, it almost seemed like crossing a line.

“What if this works?” You say looking between the couple. They share a quick look at each other before fixing their eyes on you.

“ We’ll cross that bridge when we get there lisichka. We should all get some rest, tomorrow will be very hectic for everyone,” Natasha again reassures you.

“ Do you want something more comfortable to sleep in?” Wanda says, as she pinches the fabric of your work shirt.

You nod lightly and not even a second later Natasha is shoving some pajamas in your hand. She points you to the direction on the restroom and you go leaving the two redheads alone for a moment.

“Natalia,” Wanda’s voice is low and cold as she speaks to her wife.

Natasha shrugs, “What was I supposed to do, Wanda? Did you see the poor girl?”

“You did this to prove a point,” Wanda keeps her voice down with much effort.

“I think you’re doing that all on your own. This is simply helping a friend out. It’s not like you haven’t shared bed with her before,” Natasha shoots back.

“T-this is different,” she stumbles over her words.

“Why?” Natasha raises an eyebrow at her wife.

“Can we drop this please?” Wanda looks away.

Her wife reaches to caress her face, “Detka, we can drop it for now but sooner or later we’re going to have to talk about your feelings.”

Wanda draws in a large breath . She focuses on the way Natasha’s thumb cascades across her cheek.

She looks at her wife, “I love you. More than anything Natalia. I would never put you through anything that I think would hurt us. This to me is the most important everything .”

“I’m not doubting that baby. I’m not asking you this question to make you pick between the two, I just want some clarity,” Natasha kisses Wanda briefly after speaking.

Before Wanda can speak again you’re back in the room. You stand awkwardly as the couple behind you to the bed.

“So, how does this work? Do you want me on the edge or in the middle or..?”

“We’re following your lead little krolik."

Alarms go off in your brain but the aren't loud enough in your sleep deprived state. You take your place at the edge of the bed, closest to Wanda.

You try your best to keep your arms stiffly to yourself. There isn't any chance that you'd willingly embarrass yourself further.

It would be so easy to put your arm around her waist. The more you think the less sleep you get.

Wanda can sense the tense state of your body. Natasha words echo in her mind and it causes her to hesitate. Usually she would’ve already taken initiative to make sure you were comfortable. However here she was, scared that the feeling of your arms around her would send her into an overload.

“Can I- ” your sentence is aided by the action of your hand coming to rest respectfully on her stomach.

Wanda doesn’t speak but her hand lands gently over yours, keeping it in place. You relax at the action and unintentionally pull the woman closer to you. Her back is flush against your front as soft snores fall from your lips. You fall asleep instantly.

She doesn't want to admit it, but being this close to you makes her heart thunder in her chest. She feels warm in your hold. It’s a new feeling.

Being held by you is different than holding you herself. Her free hand reaches out for her wife. Natasha scoots closer, to be face to face with Wanda. Her hand interlaces itself with Wanda’s.

Natasha kisses the back of Wanda’s hand, “I love you.”

“Love you more,” Wanda whispers as her eyes flutter shut.

The three women lay together. For once their minds are quiet as they sleep. It’s peaceful, something that they can revel in before the storm of the morning disrupts their peace.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #pietro maximoff

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caramelcleopatraa · 4 months

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iv. SUIT & TIE

word count : 1,400

x : hey y'all, its the owner of The Bank speaking! Finally got this shit finished, and I'm halfway into part 5 already 💋 Here are the playlists loves! I will actively be adding to these as the story progresses. We got ms. plot in the building as well xo

content : Mafia!Roman Reigns x Designer!Reader, suggestive

Playlists 💋 Spotify Apple Music

“Rommannn! Are you done yet baby?” A high pitched yell on the other side of the door startles you. Roman’s grip on you tightens and you give him a confused look. He plants a tender kiss on your cheek, leaving you a little bit flustered, and he smiles at your flustered expression. His hand pushes your head down on his shoulder and you take a deep breath.

“Yeah. Just be patient, ok?” Roman says sternly. “But Baaeee! You’ve been in there too lon-” “I’m not finna tell you again. Wait,” Roman says, rubbing the back of his neck. Annoyance was written all over his face. De’arra groans in defeat and the comfortable silence settles back into the atmosphere

‘Pleeaase! Please! Pleeaassee! Don’t let this turn into some drama…’

You let your nails drag across his chest. “Am i gon’ have to worry about her fucking up my shop?”

“Nah, she all bark no bite,” Roman says, looking down at your hands. “She’s not that petty or jealous.” You look at him with your eyebrow raised. ‘For him to be a ladies man, he should know how petty bitches are. ESPECIALLY when it comes to a man.’ “I hope so. I don’t wanna deal with yo’ loose ends,” You say, getting off of him and standing up to pick your bottoms off of the floor.

“I got my shit together girl. I already told you i’m not fucking with her. She’s only around me cause her daddy likes my money.” ‘Money? Who’s her dad?’

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

“The couples are finished.” Aahkilah yells at you from the otherside of the door. Both of you get dressed and clean up the dressing room. You were about to walk out of the room until Roman grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him. You were going to question why he pulled you away before his hands rose above your head. His hands firmly smooth down your hair and fixed some stray hairs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He handled you with such care and delicacy. You tell him thank you and he responds with a short hum.

You open the door to greet your clients. Gio and Madison are working as cashiers, ringing both of them up for their suits and dresses. Jey and Jimmy are putting in their payments while Talia and Trinity are talking. “Girl come over here real quick!” You hear Talia yelling at you to come over. From the tone in her voice, you couldn’t tell what this conversation was going to be about. However, you wouldn’t be in the dark for much longer. “Wassup?”

“Girl you ain’t hear?” Trinity says looking at you with a confused face. You shrug your shoulders and replied, “I be busy. Enlighten me.” “There’s a new family trying to replace the Anoa’i family.” Talia crosses her arms and sits into her hip. The blank expression on your face says everything. The Anoa’i family has been managing Florida for decades. To challenge them would be like walking straight into a turf war. Apparently, someone wanted that war. “They’re offering hella bank tryna take their spot too. I wonder if that shit’s fake… or a bluff maybe.”

“They’ll take that offer back when they realize who they’re messing with,” You mutter to your friends. Even your family didn’t dare challenge them, because they’re smart enough to know it’ll go every other way but good. Your family, the Semele’s and the Anoa’i family have always been on good terms. The Semele’s don’t own turf however, they are known for having access to a lot of things most mafia’s don't. Your family is known for being suppliers of information, stolen goods, weapons, you name it. So if Reigns is being threatened, that means you could be in trouble too, since everyone knows these two families are tightly tied together. A power duo, if you will.

“You’re not worried about this?” Trinity’s face is laced with concern for you. You shrugged your shoulders and rolled your eyes. “This could just be a scare tactic, and those don’t work on me,” You said confidently as you gave them a reassuring smile.

“That’s not something for a pretty lady to worry about. I’ll handle it,” Roman says, looking straight into your eyes. Goddamnit, those eyes. Somehow they made you so flustered. His presence was enough on its own, but his stare was so damn powerful. You were ashamed that someone you had only met an hour ago was making you so giddy and out of character. The tension between you two was thick, and everyone was starting to see it. “You gon’ let me handle it?”

“Well you're not gonna let me handle it?”

“It’s not your problem,” Roman says sternly, deading the conversation then and there. You walk closer to the cashier desk to talk to him directly. “Is this your way of caring for me?” Roman smirks at your comment. “When I said I'd take care of you, I wasn't just talking about that pussy.” Gio and Madison’s jaws drop at his comment. You could see them looking at you through the corner of your eye and you knew you would have to explain what he meant by that. You couldn't hide the smile forming on your face. “You like that?” You didn’t even have to look at him to know that he was smiling. You could hear it all in his tone. “Boy, I’m not playing with you,” you say, walking away, still wearing an existing smile. Roman laughs to himself and hands Gio a stack of cash.

“Neither am I.”

You finished another successful busy day. A shit load of fittings and pickups. Roman had someone pick up all of their suits and dresses, which completed all of your custom orders for the day. Finally, a chance to get off of your feet.

“Ummm what the hell was that this morning?” ‘Ahh shit’. You internally roll your eyes. Eventually, they were gonna bring it up to you. Maybe trying to play dumb was not the best decision on your part.

“What was what?” You innocently bat your eyes at the two ladies. “The smile off you had with your private client. Don’t tell me something went down after I dropped off your drink,” Madison says, sitting down in the swivel chair next to you. You almost muttered a snarky comeback when you were hit with flashbacks from this morning. How he spoke to you and how he touched you kept replaying in your mind. A pool between your legs was forming just from the thought of him.

“Oh he definitely put it down.” You are quick to defend yourself just as Gio says, “You’re over here in lala land! And at your job too!” Gio acts shocked and puts her hand over her heart and lets out an exaggerated gasp. You hit her in the side and shy away from their investigating eyes. The deafening silence was telling the truth for you.

“Well we didn’t fuck.. But he did eat my pussy,” you shyly said, still looking away from them. You didn’t have to look at them to know that their mouths were wide open again. What you didn’t know was those open mouths turned into wide smiles. “Ok! Ms. CEO gettin some head! Was it good?”

‘WAS IT GOOD? GOOD’S AN INSULT’ “Um…”

Before you finished your sentence, Madison interjects with, “Musta been, you looked like you were in a good mood today too. Especially after Roman’s fitting” You regrettably looked back in their direction and saw Madison wiggling her eyebrows. You lightly shove her away from you and stand up. “No, the fitting went well with no complications. That's what I was happy about.” You attempt to defend yourself, but you should’ve known that it was falling on deaf ears. Madison and Gio help you close down and lock up the shop. Of course, Madison had to tell you her two cents before going your separate ways.

“Look at you smilin-”

“Shut up.”

Welcome to your new addiction

Hi guys, back with part 4 and the playlist that you guys wanted. As always comment and tell me what you think <3

🏷️ tags :) @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41

#roman reigns #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x y/n #carmenreigns #roman reigns x chubby reader #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc #[ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧･ﾟ: * the bankk ✧･ﾟ:* ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ]#[ S & T ]

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ginnipluss · 5 months

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Preserving Elegance: A Guide to Doors, Hardware, and Bathroom Accessories Maintenance for Longevity with Ginni Plus"

Introduction

Your home is a sanctuary, a reflection of your taste and style. To ensure that it remains a haven of comfort and aesthetics, regular maintenance is key. Among the often overlooked elements in home maintenance are doors, hardware, and bathroom accessories. These components play a crucial role in both functionality and aesthetics, and their proper care can significantly extend their lifespan. In this guide, we'll explore tips to maintain doors, hardware, and bathroom accessories, ensuring they stand the test of time with the quality assurance of Ginni Plus.

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Wooden doors require special attention. Clean them regularly with a mild soap solution, avoiding harsh chemicals that can damage the finish. Apply a protective sealant or varnish to shield the wood from moisture and prevent warping. For painted doors, touch up any chipped or scratched areas to maintain a pristine appearance with the expert touch of Ginni Plus.

Hardware

Door handles, locks, and hinges are the unsung heroes of daily life. Yet, their significance becomes apparent when they malfunction. To extend the life of your hardware, periodic maintenance is crucial. Lubricate hinges and locks with a silicone-based lubricant to prevent stiffness and ensure smooth operation. Tighten loose screws and bolts to keep everything securely in place, with the reliability of Ginni Plus hardware.

For metal hardware, such as handles and knobs, a gentle cleaning with a mixture of water and mild detergent will suffice. Avoid abrasive cleaners that can scratch or damage the finish. If your hardware has developed tarnish or rust, use a metal polish or a mixture of vinegar and baking soda to restore its shine, maintaining the elegance that comes with Ginni Plus craftsmanship.

Bathroom Accessories

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Use a mild cleaner to wipe down surfaces, paying attention to any crevices where dirt may accumulate. For faucets and showerheads, remove mineral deposits by soaking them in a mixture of vinegar and water. Ensure that any moving parts, such as levers or handles, are well-lubricated to prevent stiffness, backed by the commitment to excellence that comes with Ginni Plus.

Preventive Measures

In addition to regular maintenance, taking preventive measures can significantly contribute to the longevity of doors, hardware, and bathroom accessories. Consider installing door mats at entry points to minimize dirt and debris that can scratch or damage flooring. Place soft bumpers on door frames to prevent dents and dings. In bathrooms, use a squeegee to remove excess water from surfaces after each use to prevent mold and mildew growth, ensuring the enduring quality of your home with the touch of Ginni Plus.

Conclusion

Investing time and effort into the maintenance of doors, hardware, and bathroom accessories is a wise decision that pays off in the long run. Not only does it preserve the aesthetic appeal of your home, but it also ensures that these functional elements continue to serve their purpose seamlessly. By incorporating these simple tips into your regular home maintenance routine, you'll be enhancing the longevity and performance of these often-overlooked components, ultimately contributing to the overall well-being of your living space, backed by the exceptional quality assurance of Ginni Plus.

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theladyofbloodshed · 3 months

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SJM Romance Week - Day 6 - Romantic Gestures

@sjmromanceweek When a grouchy man starts haunting her coffee shop, Nesta's romantic gestures come in the form of insults on his coffee cups.

A drizzle had misted the glass and as the world darkened, the yellow streetlights were blurs on the other side.

At the opening of the door, a brisk wind blew in. The man it carried with it was sharp-faced in a finely made dark pea-coat with an umber and orange patterned scarf tucked into it. It contrasted starkly with his red hair and pale complexion.

Emerie nudged Nesta in the ribs: target acquired.

He’d turned up a couple of days ago, coming after the evening rush and poor Gwyn had the displeasure of serving him. His first coffee had apparently been too cool despite being close to scalding. Then he’d summoned Emerie to wipe his table despite the evidence of the previous wiping still evaporating as he sat down. Nesta would handle him today. The best part of her day was to offer up the same rudeness that was given to her friends.

‘Yes?’

The man’s odd, amber eyes snapped from the signage to her. ‘Black coffee.’

Of course, he had needed to scan the entire menu for that difficult choice. Nesta ensured he could see how hot the water pouring from the machine was lest he complain that the temperature wasn’t warm enough.

‘Anything else?’

‘A little bit of customer service wouldn’t go amiss.’

Nesta shrugged one shoulder in response. ‘When you rediscover your manners.’

He stalked away to pounce on one of the vacant, highly-popular armchairs tucked away amongst the tall shelves. It was slow that evening; they were staying open later, trying to offer an alternative to bars for the non-drinkers, but it hadn’t quite taken off the ground.

There was no need to do it, but when his coffee was ready, rather than deliver it – as she might do for anybody else – Nesta called out, ‘Black coffee for the man with no manners.’

Emerie was wide-eyed. He’d reduced Gwyn to a stuttering mess when he’d pressed her for the details of suppliers for their snacks and refrigerated drinks. Emerie had simply called him a dick at the end of her shift when she got home.

To Nesta’s surprise, he pulled himself away from his book to saunter to the counter.

‘Thanks.’ His eyes glanced at her cleavage then noticed there was no name tag pinned there. There was a slight flush to his cheeks when he realised that he’d simply looked at her breasts.

‘Want my name to complain to the manager?’

His brows raised. ‘Not interested in your name.’

‘Oh, just my breasts.’

The man didn’t dignify her with a response, merely took his coffee then strolled back to his table, plucking a different book off the shelf as he went.

‘His name is Eris,’ supplied Emerie.

‘His name is a pain in my ass.’

As the evening wore on, the shop became more subdued. With only four people left – a group of three plus a solitary Eris – Nesta ushered Emerie home for the evening.

‘I don’t like you walking home alone so late,’ she complained.

Nesta held out Emerie’s jacket to help her into it. ‘Well, I like my dinner cooking when I return home, wife.’

‘You wish.’

‘Sometimes I do,’ she replied.

Emerie leaned back against the counter, arms folded. ‘It’s Gwyn’s turn to cook tonight.’

‘Get home, immediately.’

She gave a laugh and tossed her dark braid over her shoulder. ‘If there’s anything left of the house. If a fire truck is there when I get home, I’ll call.’

‘Such a beautiful woman but she cannot cook for shit,’ said Nesta with a shake of her head.

Emerie placed a hand on her heart. ‘Thank goodness she’s got us. See you at home. Be safe. Call me if you need.’

When the group left, Eris called her over with a beckon of his fingers as if she was a hound.

‘Can I get a camomile tea?’

Nesta gestured to the counter on the other side of the store. ‘Have your legs stopped working?’

Eris gave a pinched smile in return. ‘You don’t seem particularly rushed off your feet.’

That was true, she’d give him that. Nesta swept an imaginary cap through the air, collected his cup then set to brewing a tea for him – and one for her. She dimmed the lights in the coffee shop although the candles were still illuminating the tables and soft lights were on in the bookshop area. It had been an idea that had come as a result of burnout in corporate life. She’d climbed the ladder almost ruthlessly, soaring to the top, giving hour after hour to her job then her sister almost died in childbirth and she’d not seen Feyre for nearly her entire pregnancy. Work always took precedent. After that, it felt pointless. Her life revolved around work and she didn’t enjoy a single moment. Nobody ever woke up with the dream of spending twelve hours a day in an office. With the money she had been hoarding, Nesta lived her dream. Maybe it was a little dream, but she made the place she wanted; a cosy bookshop with good coffee and better cakes. It wasn’t a fortune maker, but Nesta loved it. Emerie and Gwyn worked with her to help out in its first few months of existence, but it was going well. Nesta had made something that she was proud of.

When she carried the tea over, Eris had swapped books. She knew that merging a coffee shop with a book shop would result in patrons reading while they drank, but it wasn’t a library – so she told him as much.

‘What if I chose one book and only read that when I’m in here?’

‘Again, not a library.’

A shrug was offered, but that shrug gave her pause because she’d been there before, been that person without a spark. As Nesta went through the motions of cleaning out the coffee machine and washing up the last few mugs, her eyes continually flickered to Eris. He hardly read the book in his hands. His eyes kept drifting to the wall then he’d skip a page or two and try to focus like his heart wasn’t in it. Not once did Nesta see his attention stray to his phone. He was somewhere else – a bad break-up maybe plaguing his thoughts.

Taking pity, Nesta plated up the last few sugary items – the three of them wouldn’t shrivel up and die if they didn’t polish off the stock for once – and set them down on his table with a paper bag.

‘Yours, if you want.’

‘Oh.’

‘Thank you, Nesta. You are welcome. There, manners.’

There was an elfin quality to his face like the bones of his face was sharper, more pointed than others. ‘Your name is Nesta?’

‘No, the other person working right now.’

Her sarcasm usually cut the skin, but Eris snickered. ‘Thanks, Nesta.’

By the time he left, Emerie was blowing up her phone with calls asking why she wasn’t home yet along with a picture of the charred dinner Gwyn had made then a message asking her to pick something up on the way home for them to eat. She’d stayed open later than usual because she felt too guilty to kick Eris out when his mind seemed occupied elsewhere. He’d thanked her again before he left along with returning his plate and mug to the counter – and a hefty tip that she was not expecting.

***

Eris came in every single day that week. He’d stand, stormy-faced in the queue, awaiting his black coffee. Depending how snappy or short he was, depended what name she scrawled on his cup. Grumpy man in the coat. Man who looks like a drowned rat. Mr. Miserable. He never took much offence by it, just raised his brows, paid for his drink then stalked over to the books to sit alone. By Friday, Nesta began preparing his coffee the moment he came in from the rain. When his lips parted, she pressed the cup into his hands. Eris scanned the writing on the receipt.

Mr Can’t-even-crack-a-smile-on-a-Friday.

‘I’m going to touch your newest books with greasy fingers.’

‘You wouldn’t dare,’ she said.

His lips quirked. ‘Try me.’

When he retreated to his favourite corner, Emerie cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me.’

‘You may be excused,’ replied Nesta.

She rolled up a tea towel and whipped Nesta across the thigh. ‘What’s that? Were you flirting?’

Her jaw dropped. ‘That was not flirting. That was me warning a customer that if he ruins a book, I will beat him with it.’

Emerie gave a slow nod, not believing it for a moment. ‘I wish I had that shield. I go home feeling bad if a customer is rude. Gwyn cries. You grow more powerful.’

‘When they ask to speak to the manager, I hit them with the uno reverse card.’

Once the coffee shop had cleared out, Nesta was left alone again with Eris. Like the previous nights, he was unsettled. No book truly held his focus.

‘Camomile tea and a brownie. If you get crumbs on the books, I will bill you for the damage.’

‘This music is awful,’ he said, not tearing his attention from the novel – although she’d been watching and this was the most focused that he’d been all evening so it was likely a façade.

‘Take it up with the manager,’ she replied.

‘I wish I could,’ he muttered.

While he drank, Nesta changed the window display. New stock had arrived that morning so she was eager to have it on show ready for the morning. Through it all, Eris murmured that a book was wonky or the colour schemes clashed.

‘Would you like to do it?’

‘Not particularly,’ he replied, sipping at his tea – but for once there was some life behind his eyes, a slight brightness that hadn’t been there all week. ‘What time does this place close?’

Nesta mimed looking at an imaginary watch on her wrist. ‘Oh, about seventeen minutes ago.’

Eris screwed up his face. ‘I thought you’d be eager to kick me out.’

‘It’s a Friday night. You’re a young, presumably single, handsome man. If this is the only place you have to go on a Friday night then I feel bad to kick you out.’

‘Well, I sound pathetic.’ He drained his tea. ‘Sorry. Your boss won’t be mad?’

‘Yeah. She’s a bitch. Don’t mess with her.’

Surprising her entirely, Eris asked if there was anything he could help with to ease the lock up process. She’d already put the day’s takings in the safe, so she handed him a cloth and spray to wipe down the tables again. Dutifully, he set to the task.

‘You after a job?’

Eris gave one low chuckle. ‘I have a job.’

This was a man that she simply could not work out. From the exterior, he seemed sour and irritable, but he took her sniped words and parried them back.

Even when Nesta locked up the door, Eris remained nearby, watching over her shoulder as revellers began to emerge for the night and stumbled down the pavements.

‘Can I give you a ride?’ He gestured to the rain then pointed to a car worth more than any she’d ever sat in before. It was a massive, gas-guzzling beast that could plough down anything in its path. If the four horsemen of the apocalypse upgraded from horses to vehicles, it would be this one.

‘I don’t make a habit of getting in cars with strange men. Goodnight.’

It was a twenty-minute walk, fifteen if she moved her legs a little quicker to avoid the drunken idiots staggering around the streets. Nesta zipped her coat to her chin then steeled herself for the walk.

Eris turned his car around and she heard it roaring behind her.

It crawled along the road beside her, keeping pace with her walking.

‘If you won’t accept a ride then I can at least make sure you get home safely this way.’

‘You’d be so cut up if something happened to me,’ she scoffed. ‘We’re strangers.’

‘True,’ Eris admitted, an arm resting on the wound-down window. ‘But it's difficult to find a decent cup of coffee around here.’

Each night, Eris had given a generous tip to the pot which was at odds with his prickly demeanour. He could continue to come and be miserable if a fat tip was pushed into the jar at the end of it all.

Nesta made a tutting noise. ‘Will you stop this? You make me look like a woman of the night, driving along beside me and calling out the window.’

‘Ah, a jezebel,’ he said with a laugh. ‘It’s pouring. I’ll drop you off. Get in.’

She slipped her phone from her pocket and hastily flung a badly typed text into the group chat telling them she was in the car with Eris and shared her location. At the sensation of the heated seats, Nesta eased out a satisfied noise. The car was not what she expected on the inside. A blanket was strewn across the back seats and it was covered in muddy pawprints and dog hair. More of it was on the upholstery.

‘You have a dog?’

‘Uh. Yeah. I did,’ he replied, face tightening. ‘Tell me the way.’

‘I’ll give you five stars if you don’t talk to me,’ she quipped but the sadness had already leaked into his expression like those first couple of nights that he’d come to the shop. Maybe not a break up at all.

In a silence that was only interrupted by her directions, Eris drove her home. He was a good driver, never speeding, never taking risks despite the engine that thrummed with power. At the house, he pulled up.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Nesta nodded. ‘Sure. Eight 'til eight tomorrow, but we have shorter hours on Sundays.’

‘Thanks for the heads up.’

Her fingers stilled on the door handle. ‘Are you alright? You’re spending every evening until close in a coffee shop. Don’t you have a home to go to?’

‘Yeah. I don’t want to be there,’ he said without expanding on it. ‘Goodnight Nesta.’

***

That weekend, they continued their strange dance. Nesta called out orders for the dude with the stick up his ass, the guy who needs to get a library card, and the neat freak who keeps re-arranging the books. Each time, Eris sauntered to the counter or waved his hand through the air expecting table service, not at all bothered by her insults.

‘You’re definitely flirting,’ murmured Emerie as she hung up her apron for the afternoon.

‘I’m harassing him,’ countered Nesta.

Gwyn shook her head. ‘He seems to like it.’

Eris was sprawled out in a chair, shoes off, socked-feet resting on the chair opposite as he read. A cookie had chunks bitten out of it sporadically as he remembered its existence. He looked well and truly at home in the alcove cut into the wall. It was Nesta’s favourite part of the shop – the main reason she’d purchased the building. They’d pinned a lattice to the wall and wound fake ivy and fairy lights through it to make it something special.

‘Are we kicking him out to close?’

Nesta chewed on her lip. ‘I feel guilty every time. He’s got nowhere else to go.’

‘It’s not a shelter for waifs and strays. It’s a business,’ said Emerie.

Sunday was meant to be a chill out day with the coffee shop closing just after lunch to at least give Nesta a little bit of free time away from it. Eris seemed far too cosy to turf him out. She convinced Em and Gwyn to go on ahead in the gloomy weather and she’d catch up. Then, Nesta plopped down on the stool beside Eris.

‘Closing time?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

Eris heaved a sigh as he closed the book.

‘You know you can buy the books,’ she said, raising a brow. ‘That’s how we make money.’

‘Sorry. Tell your boss I enjoy the ambience too much.’

She gave him a half-sigh. ‘I am the boss.’

He reached back to the shelf to slide the book – a fantasy one – back into its place. ‘I was wondering why the manager put the grumpiest member of staff on every single day.’

Nesta choked on a laugh. ‘Me, grumpy? You have an aura like a sad, wet cat around you. It sucks me in like a black hole. That’s why I stay away.’

Eris slipped his long feet back into his shoes and tied up the laces. He wasn’t particularly dressed down for a weekend. All of his clothes screamed money.

‘So, what’s the story? Why do you spend every minute here?’ Nesta scanned him from head to toe. ‘Bad break up? Don’t want to pay for heating at your own home?’

‘I just don’t want to be there.’

Under her piercing stare, Eris crumbled. He pulled his phone from his pocket and slid it across to her. She was expecting a gorgeous woman there or a cute couple’s photo. Instead, Nesta was met with a massive, black dog with masses of shiny fur.

‘My boy,’ said Eris, wincing as he spoke. ‘Fifteen years old. Put to sleep last week.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s so quiet at home. I can’t bear to get rid of his bed – or that blanket in the car.’ Eris shook his head. ‘I know, just a dog. Get over it.’

Nesta clenched her teeth together then, ‘That’s not true. Fifteen years is a long time to love something. It’s natural to grieve a pet. Sorry for insulting you for the last few days. If I knew there was a reason for this mood, I’d have left you be.’

‘It’s alright. It was fun. I just needed a place that was open late so I didn’t have to go home. Then I found you. Your insults stopped me feeling sorry for myself.’

His words, though not deep, still had her heart giving a flutter. ‘I’ve still got to kick you out, I’m afraid.’

Eris dipped his chin then buttoned up his coat. He carried his own tray to the sink and loaded the items onto the dishwasher because he was practised enough with the closing routine.

‘Black coffee tomorrow for the dog lover?’

‘Ask your manager when you can get the night off.’

‘Drop me home and you can talk to her.’

#neris #sjmromanceweek2024 #sjmromanceweek

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 9 months

Text

Rough Day?: Dante x Male Reader

SUMMARY: Dante comes home from a job and just needs some love; which you happen to be the best--and only--supplier he goes to… however, you are too blind to notice how he feels.

BEGINNING NOTES: >Dante x Male Reader* >Unestablished relationship; >Dante is obviously flirting with you and you aren’t getting the hint--like REALLY painfully obvious and you are just oblivious.* >Fluff: Dante is a big cuddly softy--I really just needed something sweet. 🐻🧸🐻 >The reader isn’t a devil hunter but rather a secretary for the shop; handling paperwork and is on the shorter side* >Dante and you share some wine--I know nothing about wine so I just Googled what wine goes well with pizza and read about it lmfao >Although I don’t explicitly say what movie, I wrote this with the movie “xXx” in mind (2002: it's an action movie with Vin Diesel; it is not a porno even though it sounds like it lmfao)--it has a red lingerie scene. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a great movie--it’s as old as I am but it’s fucking great. One of my childhood favorites; highkey wanted Xander’s xXx neck tattoo--and still kind of do tbh lmao 🧸🐻🧸 *This is a bit self-indulgent and relates to me a bit more than normal. To be 100% honest I haven’t been in the best place and I need some soft stuff hence the male reader. It’s also why the requests are taking so damn long, I just hit writer's block and am having a downward swing again lol Sorry for the inconvenience! I should hopefully break out of this soon ;))

The sound of the garage door opening made you look up from the mound of paperwork you were currently nose-deep in. With a small smile, you stood up to go see who was visiting; however, you were quickly stopped by a tall muscular roadblock. Said roadblock slumped over and placed his forehead on your shoulder.

"Welcome home… Rough day, huh?" You lovingly placed a hand on his back, rubbing small circles into his jacket.

Dante nodded against you, “It was a complete shit show and Vergil was crabby…”

“Mmn, I’m sorry,” you grabbed his hand with your free one, squeezing it slightly, “Why don’t you go shower--I’ll order dinner and we can watch a movie.”

The red devil leaned up and gave you a soft smile, his eyes creasing at the edges, "You sure? You seem busy."

You laughed and rolled your eyes, placed a forearm on your forehead, leaning back dramatically, "Oh no-- I have to stop filling out your back taxes; what a pity…”

Dante laughed softly and pulled you close, with you still leaning backwards, “Such a shame, I know how much you love paperwork.”

Your shoulder hit his chest and he took the opportunity to nuzzle himself against your exposed throat. The feeling of his stubble scraping along your neck made you squirm in his grasp, laughing loudly, “Hey-- Stop that- that tickles, Dante-!”

“Oh? Does it now?” The red devil snuggly nuzzled the side of his jaw into you, a broad smile tugging at his features at the sound of your laughter.

“You’re---- You’re gonna get me dirty--”

“Mmn,” he stopped and you pivoted to face him, “Then you can shower with me…”

You laughed brightly and, despite your previous statement of him being grungy, you hid your face in his chest attempting to hide your flustered expression, “In your dreams, Dante.”

He wrapped his arms around you, kneading your back with his fingers, “Sometimes~”

“Perve!” You laughed harder as you shoved his shoulder playfully.

The two of you stood there for a few moments, Dante loudly purring against you, and enjoying your closeness. Nonchalantly you slid your face up to his shoulder, which he eagerly leaned down for. After a moment, you placed your face against the side of his and gently pushed against him. With a happy sigh, you ran your fingers through his hair but stopped quickly upon noticing the gore within his white strands--that was now all over your hand, “Alright, mister, go shower and we can continue this later.”

He leaned up slowly and stuck out his lower lip in a pout, giving you puppy dog eyes.

“Uh-uh, no-” you turned from him, closing your eyes, “I am not falling for that; Last time we had to get a new couch because of how dirty you were and the shop smelt like a rotten butcher shop for a week.”

“Alright, alright,” Dante smiled and cupped your cheek with one hand, slowly thumbing over your face, “I’ll be back in a jif, babe," he moved his hand to your chin, holding it with his thumb and forefinger for a moment before slowly letting go, hustling out of the kitchen.

"Hey, make sure you’re actually clean-! Damn it…” Your words fell upon deaf ears as you listened to the creak of the stairs from him jogging up them. With a wistful sigh, you smiled softly, “What a dork.”

After washing your hands with soap and bleach, you left the kitchen and went over to Dante’s desk. As per usual, you dialed up the local pizza parlor and within two rings they picked up.

“Dante!” The voice of a jolly old man echoed through the phone, “How’s my best customer?”

You laughed, “Sorry, Dante’s showering right now; it’s--”

“Ah, it’s Dante’s husband! How are you?”

A fiery feeling filled your face as you sputtered out, “Dante’s what?”

“Don’t worry, I'm fine with you being gay! Dante always struck me as a fruity guy, even back when he first started-”

You let out an awkward laugh, “We aren’t- Dante and I aren’t even dating,” You let out another laugh, however, the longing feeling from earlier returned, "Let alone married."

"Oh! Sorry, just with the way you two act…” The old man paused momentarily before clearing his throat, “Anyways, you want the usual?”

“Yes, please. Can we get that delivered?”

“Oh? Sure thing. It’ll be there in--” There was a short pause with incoherent yelling between the old man and someone else before he returned to you, “Be there in about 10 minutes, alright?”

“Yup! Thanks so much! Have a great night, Pops!”

“You too, kid, bye!”

“Bye!”

As you hung up the phone, you slumped back into the desk chair, replaying the conversation. Did he really think that Dante and you were lovers? How many others at that shop had the same idea? You bit your lip in thought. Was it that obvious that you had a crush on him?

With a groan, you leaned forward, placing your elbows on the desk and your face in your hands. Does Dante know how you feel? As you mulled over things, you lost track of time and never even heard Dante descend the stairs or realize he was right beside you.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You flinched at the sudden noise to your right and jolted up out of the chair.

Dante was standing with a casual lean to his posture and a tilt of his head, obviously curious about your odd behavior. Your eyes widened at the shirtless devil and his half-lidded lazy smile. Currently, he was in just a pair of baggy black sweatpants… and that was it. His hands were neatly tucked into his pockets, inadvertently pulling down the waistband of well-worn clothing which gave you a tasteful peak at his strawberry print boxers. Although he was mostly dry, you could still see water dripping from his hair onto his shoulders and chest; which made your stare wander down from his eyes.

Noticing your straying eyes, Dante’s smile turned to a sultry smirk, “Like what you see, baby~?” He flexed his pecs and winked, watching your blush darken.

“Huh?! What- No- I wasn’t-- It’s just,” you shakily gestured to his chest, “You’re wet--”

“Not yet I’m not,” He winked as his tilted posture deepened.

You sputtered out gibberish as you stiffened.

Dante leaned closer and tilted his head, cupping the side of your face, “You know, you're pretty cute when you're all flustered and speechless.”

As you turned into his palm, you let out an embarrassed laugh, “Yeah right, sure Dante.”

“I’m serious,” he leaned up with a wide toothy grin, “You’re like a…” With a pause and a squint in thought, he snapped his free hand’s fingers, “A cow!”

“Hey!” You leaned away from his hand, placing your hands on your hips, “Rude.”

“Eh?” Dante stuck a lip out in confusion, “What? You don’t find ‘em cute or somethin’?”

“Dante… When you call someone a “cow” you’re calling them fat and ugly.”

His eyes widened, “Since when?”

You shook your head and sighed, “That insult has been around for literal centuries.”

Panicked that he may have upset you, he stumbled over his words as he tried to fix his words, “I didn’t mean for it to be insulting! Cows are my favorite animal and-”

"Oh trust me, cowboy, I know they are," you shook your head with a laugh and broke eye contact with him.

Suddenly, you felt a large set of arms around you and your head was against a warm chest. Dante set his head atop yours and mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you; I just think you’re really cute and I couldn’t think of anything I find cuter than a cow. I--”

“Dante,” you sighed and pushed against him lovingly with your head, resting your cheek against him, “You don’t have to apologize.”

As you layed upon him, enjoying the brief and rare moment of peace, you found yourself relaxing into his hold. The smell of his body wash-- the low consistent beating of his heart-- the warm heat his body gave off-- all wrapped up into a large affectionate package. A package that you could only dream about allowing you to stay this close for the rest of your days.

To be able to place your sleeve rather than your cheek. To tell him exactly what you have been yearning for many years.

But those are childish thoughts and nothing more than a dream. Someday, Dante will find a wife and leave this godforsaken business and live a happy life; all while you watch from the side and cheer him on from a distance.

His arms tightened around you and he began to purr lightly, “When we retire, we should buy a farm.”

You raised a brow, “What, you still need me with you to do your taxes or something?”

As he laughed, you felt his chest reverberate with each noise, “I need you for a lot more than that, babe.”

“Mhm, sure you do,” you sighed and turned your head, placing your forehead against his chest.

Before Dante could respond, a loud knock came from the front door. Excitedly, he let go of you and smiled widely, “I’ll get it.”

As he took care of the payment for the pizza, you wandered into the kitchen to grab plates. A small sigh left your lips as you looked at the empty place where the paper plates go, knowing the replacements are on the top shelf--a shitty result of having a behemoth of a housemate. With pursed lips, you stood on your tip toes and tried to stretch up to reach the desired item.

Just as you were about to go get a chair to stand on, you felt a set of large hands grab your waist and pick you up. A surprised squeak left your lips and you whipped your head around to see a smiling Dante. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the plates. Carefully, Dante placed you back on the ground and backed up a bit.

“Thanks,” you smiled at him and grabbed a plate, handed it to him, then grabbed one for yourself.

After Dante placed two full glasses of Malbec on the table, you sat in adjacent corner chairs--facing at an angle to see one another. There was a comfortable silence between you as you ate; well, save for the quiet happy humming that came from Dante as he ate. As you watched him, you smiled warmly. It’s times like these that make you forget how dangerous Dante actually is. How he could rip you limb to limb if he felt so inclined. With a shake of your head, you returned to eating, shoving those frightening thoughts down.

After some time, Dante leaned towards you and placed an elbow on the table, “So you never did tell me why you were sitting for like ten minutes with that weird expression after you ordered.”

“Oh! It’s nothin’.”

“Mmhmm,” Dante smiled as he took another bite of food, “Okay, let me rephrase that:” He gestured mindlessly with his hand, “I overheard your half of the call from upstairs and was wondering what Pops said to you that got you so worked up.”

“Nothin’ important-!” Your answer was very abrupt as your face began to heat up again, which Dante noticed.

“Come on~ It had to be something; I can ask Pops if you--”

“No! Don’t, please,” you pursed your lips and avoided his eyes.

His brow furrowed, “He didn’t say anything bad to you, did he?”

“What? No! That man couldn’t say an evil thing if you held him at gunpoint.”

“Then what?”

“Just…” You paused with a shake of your head before sheepishly mumbling, “He called me your husband.”

Dante finished chewing and placed his slice down, “Really?”

With a nod and a drink, you nodded, “Yup…”

His voice took a more serious tone as he looked you in the eyes, “Does that… bother you?”

You shook your head ‘no’, avoiding his eyes, “Was unexpected is all…”

The red devil laughed and went to grab his drink, but missed the glass and knocked it over.

“Dante-!” You shot up from your seat and looked down at yourself. The glass thankfully hadn’t smashed and was still on the tabletop; however, the red wine had been spilled all over your shirt and pants, soaking straight through everything you had on.

“Shit, sorry!” Dante stood up as well and attempted to dry you off with some napkins he grabbed from the table, continuing to apologize.

You instantly became flustered as you realized what Dante was doing and where his hands were, “That’s not helping--” You caught eyes with him and he noticed your expression.

“Well,” he stood back up, placing a hand on his hip, “I could just use my tou--”

“I’m going to shower!” You cut him off and scuttled out of the room, ignoring the growing fluttery feeling in your chest, and didn't hear Dante’s dejected sigh.

As you were bathing, Dante cleaned up the kitchen. He put the half-eaten pizza in the fridge and then saw your wine glass was still half-full. With a casual shrug, he finished it off and placed the two glasses in the sink. Slowly, he meandered out into the living room to set up the TV when he got an idea.

Your shower was rather quick, being in and out of the bathroom within less than five minutes. With a small hum, you dried off, got dressed in some clean wine-free clothing, and left the room. Only to run straight into a certain white-haired man’s chest, making you jump with a startled shout.

“Wha-!” You stared at him for a moment before raising a brow at him, “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you,” the look he gave you was reminiscent of a happy puppy, making you mindlessly reach up to pat the top of his head.

Dante leaned down and placed his head on your shoulder, purring softly from your touch. His hands wrapped around your back, finding purchase on the small of your back, and he took a deep slow inhale. Although he’d never say it out loud, he found your scent to be rather comforting and relaxing. The two of you stood there for a moment before he leaned back.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh no,” you stared at him, “What did you do?”

With a lip stuck out with a disingenuous frown, “Why do you assume it’s a bad thing?”

“Dante,” you slid your hands down his arms and rested on his biceps, “Last time you said you “I have a surprise” I came home to the shop doors through the stairs and a tarp for a front door…”

He laughed and buried his face in your neck, taking on a playfully sarcastic tone, “That was fun~! It made the shop nice and drafty.”

“Maybe for you Mister hot-blooded but it was for like a month in the dead of winter. I froze my ass off--”

Dante grabbed your ass harshly, “Nope, it’s still there.”

You shoved him playfully and rolled your eyes.

He leaned back up, “Now, can I show you the surprise?”

With a nod, you sighed happily, “Alright, what-- Hey!”

Instantly your feet were off the ground and he was holding you from underneath your legs; you then wrapped yourself around him, fearing he’d drop you. A large smile adorned his face as he walked down to his room, opened the door, and tossed you onto the nearby bed. He turned to shut the door and when he looked back at you, he saw that your eyes were wide and heard how fast your heart was beating; which caused his smile to take a more sultry turn.

Dante gestured towards the foot of the bed, where he had moved his bedside table and placed the TV on top of, “Figure it’s a little more comfortable than the couch.”

“G-gotcha,” you shook your head and smiled, laying on your stomach to face the screen.

He moved towards the mattress then jumped onto it, laying right beside you, “Don’t worry, I picked out a great movie--”

“If we are watching the same fucking movie-- I swear to god--”

“But it’s so good!”

“I think I know every goddamned word by now.”

Dante looked at you with his bottom lip stuck out, giving you his infamous puppy eyes.

“No-- nu-uh--” You looked away from him and took a long deep breath, “Dante-- For fucks sake--”

Dante whimpered softly, making you turn back to him, and found yourself met with the red devil’s bright turquoise eyes and his brow upturned into a pout. With a wistful sigh, you shook your head and laughed, “I hate when you give me those eyes-- Fine, we can watch your movie.”

He flashed you a wide toothy grin and reached out to grab the remote from the table, turning on the flick.

Bit by bit, Dante slid to lay right beside you, his body tightly tucked against yours. Slowly, he leaned his head onto your shoulder, growing sleepier with each passing minute. However, he managed to stay awake and watch the movie.

Around an hour in, a scene came on that showed various women in scarcely any clothing; ending in a climactic scene where the main lead climbs into bed with a woman dressed in red lingerie.

Dante rolled onto his side, looking at you with half-lidded eyes as he spoke in a low sultry voice, “I should buy you a set like that, bet you’d look hot.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes went wide, “H-huh?!”

He placed a hand on your bicep and slowly began to rub his thumb against you, “I mean, I know that the bra might be a little much; but the panties would be worth it at the very least.”

“Dante---- Dante,” you turned to him, your face burning, “Why on Earth would you want me in that?”

“You’d look hot; what other reason would I need?” He flashed you a warm suggestive smirk.

“I mean,” you looked away with a small huff, mumbling, “Wouldn’t you want someone you’re dating wearing it?”

Dante’s smile faded as he removed his hand, “What?”

You continued to mumble, refusing to look back at him, “You know like someone you’re attracted to..?”

The red devil blankly stared at you for a moment before he grabbed the remote and hit the stop button several times before dropping it somewhere onto the floor, then slid off the foot of the bed.

Your eyes slowly turned to face him, “Dante..?”

He pushed the ‘off’ button on the TV and turned back to face you, "Look," his voice was quiet and he looked defeated, unable to look you in the eyes, as he took a few steps closer to stand in front of you, "I know our dates aren't anything fancy or- or high quality but--"

“What-?” You swung your legs around to sit at the edge of the bed, “Our-- huh?”

His expression changed from a kicked puppy to a blank dumbfounded stare as his eyes met with your gaze, “Our dates.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head, “What are you talkin’ about Dante..?”

“Our dates--” He leaned down to look you dead in the eyes, bracing himself with his hands on either side of you against the bed, “You feelin’ alright?”

“We aren’t--”

“We’ve been going out for almost a year,” he pursed his lips, “I asked you out like a month after comin’ home…”

With a confused tilt of your head, you furrowed your brow, “I don’t remember.”

“After Verge and I returned home, I didn’t want to…” He shrugged one shoulder with a small half-hearted laugh, “To miss out on my chance with you, so I asked you out. We went to the zoo, remember?”

With a slightly furrowed brow, you did your best to try and remember that day. Dante was nearly welded to you during that outing; between holding your hand or having an arm snugly wrapped around your waist, he was very overly physical with you. Until now, you’d just brushed it off, thinking that Dante was just sick of being so touch-starved and you gladly gave him what he wanted.

Admittedly, it was a two-way street, you wanted to be just as close to him as he was providing. From small things like morning hugs or more intense things like him placing a kiss on your forehead every once in a while, it was such an unexpected but welcomed experience. However, without him outright stating things, you didn’t think he meant anything of it; refusing to believe someone like him would be with someone like you.

You laughed, catching Dante off guard, and placed the top of your head against his chest, “I didn’t realize you meant a literal “date”.” A blush spread across your face as you stared at the floor, taking a quieter meeker tone, “I wish I had known that you-- that we were…”

“Does it bother you? I mean if you don’t feel that way, I won’t force you to--”

“Dante…” You closed your eyes with a shy laugh, your voice growing quieter and quieter with each word, “I just wished that I’d known the guy I’ve been into for years has the same feelings back… That’s all.”

He paused for a moment, listening to the quickening pacing of your heart, before softly setting his hands on your shoulders causing you to look back at him. Although Dante’s gaze is always softer when it comes to you; right now, his stare seems even gentler than normal. His brow was relaxed and he had a lazy smile tugging at his lips with a very faint purr emanating from his throat. Bit by bit, the two of you moved closer and shared a tender innocent kiss.

When he and you pulled apart, a smile tugged at Dante’s face at your flustered appearance, “You know,” he laughed, placing his forehead on your shoulder, “I just thought you were taking things at a snail's pace, babe.”

“I- I didn’t know- I would’ve-” You shook your head, unable to come up with a cohesive sentence.

Using your flustered mindset to his advantage, Dante moved to sit on and straddle your lap. With wide eyes, you stared up at the smiling man. Cautiously, you ran a hand up his middle, making note of his skin felt underneath your fingertips. Even though you’d briefly touched his torso before, this was an entirely different ballpark. Your hand made its way to his neck and you very gently thumbed over his throat.

Once your hand was on the side of his face, you felt a sudden nervous feeling begin to spread throughout your limbs; you’d wanted to kiss him again but found yourself hesitant to ask. Thankfully, Dante was far from reluctant.

The red devil leaned down and kissed you again, your hand still cupping the side of his face. These kisses were longer and more impassioned. Your hands clasped around the back of his neck, as he grabbed your waist allowing him to lean you backwards. A smile tugged at his lips as he began to bite at your lower lip, taking great care not to puncture your kiss-swollen flesh. Then he made his way down your jaw and to your neck, relishing in your uneven heavy breaths.

As he nipped at your neck, you slid a hand into his hair and grabbed the back of his head as you arched your back. Dante took this as an okay to bite a little harder, leaving a loving mark. When he was done, he set his forehead on the front side of your shoulder, laughing softly.

“What’s up?” You raised a brow at his odd reaction.

Dante’s voice was quiet, “I just really love you, so damned much.”

A very small droplet of water hit your chest as you realized why he didn’t return to your gaze.

“I love you too Dante,” You wrapped yourself around him, tightly squeezing him, “I have for a long time.”

He copied your action, wrapping himself around you. Another laugh left his lips as he sniffled, placing his head beside yours. As you layed intertwined, you both began to drift off to sleep; staying interwoven until morning, a feeling you’d both yearned to experience for much too long.

ENDING NOTES: Cows are really cute and if you disagree, you’re wrong lmao. If you’ve ever pet a calf you’ll know they are just so cute and ugHHH (I was raised on a farm, we didn’t have cows but I did get to see them a lot because of family-related stuff; so I am biased over farm animals a bit. Plus it fits Dante’s DMC 4 cowboy vibe lmao) 🐻🧸🐻 Was gonna make this a smut fic. but I just wasn’t vibing with it so it kind of ends abruptly, sorry lol

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

#devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #dmc #dante #dante devil may cry #devil may cry dante #dante x reader #dante x male reader #x reader #x male reader #oneshot #fluff #sorry this is a little rusty #been in a funk lately so I'm trying lmao #This has been in my drafts since like the beginning of August #and I was originally trying to have this done for my birthday on Aug 27th #but that obviously didn't work out lmaoo

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 1 year

Text

Silver Springs Part 4

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~9.5k

Summary: Wanda tries to leave her mob life behind to start a family with you

A/N: The crack has begun. Things start to happen. Enjoy.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of illness and cheating, use of medical jargon.

Your day at work flies by which is both a blessing and a curse. You’re so busy that you barely have time to think about what happened last night. You’re not on edge until you take Boone out into the yard to exercise for a while. You go between watching him run around the fenced in yard and looking around you for someone watching you. You don’t see anyone, not that you expected to see anyone who’s stalking you. You very rarely see the people, mostly Bucky, that Wanda has following you, and today is no different. You figure that if there’s anyone on your tail other than Bucky, he’d know about it. Still, you take Boone back inside after only about 10 minutes because you get a little antsy just sitting around. That and you feel a headache coming on. You groan and roll your shoulders as you head back in. You only have about an hour until you can leave.

Wanda had been on the phone for most of the day. She was getting irritated because she was calling people in an attempt to get the impossible done. She wanted bulletproofing within the next 48 hours and unfortunately all of the money in the world couldn’t speed up this process. Unfortunately, it was an availability issue and her supplier could have it produced by the end of the week, but not installed until mid-next week.

This of course isn’t good enough, but as Wanda resorts all the way to Plan D, she realizes that she just has to cut her losses. She’s certain that she won’t get you to stay away from home for that long, but maybe you’ll agree to a little bit longer than you’d initially discussed. Hopefully you liked being around family again.

Wanda’s about to call her first supplier back to confirm that the timeline works for her when she gets a call from Bucky. She answers immediately because he only calls if it’s urgent. She tries not to panic too much as she waits for the bad news.

“Bucky, what’s happened?”

Bucky immediately realizes he should have just sent the redhead a text, but he’d been in a hurry. He was getting ready to follow you as you and Boone leave work. You had left a little earlier than expected because you had a headache and you wanted to get to the compound before it was too bad. You weren’t sure if Wanda would be waiting there for you, but all you could think about was lying down.

“Sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I was just calling to let you know that we’re leaving now.”

Wanda looks at her watch before she mutters a curse under her breath. She hadn’t realized how late it was, and she still had to pack. She sighs as she does quick math and realizes that she won’t be there until later tonight. She says this to Bucky who just claims that he’s got it handled, and Wanda believes him. She just doesn’t like the idea of not being with you while all of this is going on. She figures she can finish this one last thing and then pack up and leave.

“Okay, I’ll be there hopefully in a few hours.”

By the time you and Bucky make it to the compound your headache is near excruciating. You don’t get out of the car immediately and despite Boone’s protests, you stay with your head against the wheel for a solid minute before Bucky comes up to figure out what’s going on. You groan as you turn off the car and reach for a pair of sunglasses before you open the door and let Boone out.

“You okay?”

You shake your head as you step outside and close your eyes with a sigh. Bucky’s already opened the back door to unbuckle Boone and grab his leash as you try to not vomit from the sudden wave of nausea that hits you.

“I have a killer migraine and need a nap. You didn’t tell anyone I was coming did you?”

Your question is answered when you watch him look over your shoulder. You don’t have time to brace yourself for whoever it is when you feel someone run into you and wrap you into a tight hug.

“Y/n!”

You can’t help but flinch at the volume, but you smile nevertheless as you attempt to turn around and greet your friend.

“Good to see you too, Yelena. We need to catch up after this migraine goes away.”

You watch as the blonde squints before looking between you and Bucky as she grabs your bag from you and starts to lead you inside.

“You heard her Bucky, go away.”

You can’t help but laugh as Bucky rolls his eyes and just follows behind you with Boone’s leash in hand.

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

Turns out the compound hasn’t changed that much. You don’t pay much attention to anything but the length of the elevator ride up to your floor as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Sorry you feel like shit.”

You smile before you shake your head and mutter that it’s fine. You wish you could take the time to catch up with your friend and tell her all about what happened, but you are getting closer and closer to being unable to stand.

“Thanks. I’ll come find you later when I feel less like death, okay?”

When you and Yelena arrive to your old room the blonde hands you your bag and Boone runs in as soon as you open the door.

“You better.”

She leaves and you close and lock the door behind you. It’s a habit and you don’t think twice as you hurry through the main room and over to the bedroom. You flop down on it gracelessly. It’s been cleaned for your arrival and you bask in the smell of clean sheets as you try to think about nothing but feeling better. You sigh when you hear Boone jump up on the bed next to you and you don’t have the energy to tell him to get off. You toss and turn for a while trying to figure out what’s better for your headache. The pillow over your head blocks out the dim light coming from the window, but it makes your pulse louder, clearer and you eventually just give up and curl up into a ball under the covers.

You fall asleep after about 20 minutes of feeling your pulse pound behind your eyes.

Wanda arrives at the compound near 7 o’clock with Steve and what she hopes is enough clothes to get you through the week. She rolls one of the suitcases, Steve has the other two, toward the elevators. She’s already texting you to figure out where you are when the elevator dings and the doors open to reveal someone on the other side.

“Welcome back, sestra.”

Wanda smiles despite her exhausting day and the stress headache brewing, and she hugs her brother tightly. They hug for a little longer than normal before Pietro backs off and shoots his sister a worried look.

“As nice as it is to have you back for a while, I wish it was for better reasons.”

Wanda nods with a sigh as she agrees with the older Maximoff’s sentiment. She had been meaning to visit at the end of the week, but the shooter had forced her hand. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s worried that she can’t keep you safe and this is the safest place she knows.

“Agreed. We’ll have to catch up once I’m settled.”

Pietro nods as he grabs his sister’s suitcase despite her protest before leading her into the elevator. She sighs with another smile as Steve follows them in before the doors shut. Wanda takes a closer look at her brother and notices that he’s dressed up a little more than she’d expect. She knows this isn’t for her and she smirks slightly.

“Important meeting today?”

Pietro looks confused for a moment before Wanda pointedly looks him up and down. Pietro tries to cover up his nerves with a cough, and he shoots Steve a glare when he notices the blonde grinning.

“Uh, actually I have a date later tonight.”

Wanda’s a little surprised and she doesn’t hide it well, but luckily her bother doesn’t take offense. She knows he’s a catch, despite his arrogance, but he’s also almost as paranoid as she is. The fact that he’s stepping out and dating is a little unexpected.

“Really? Do I know them?”

Pietro shakes his head before saying that it’s casual, and Wanda doesn’t have a chance to question this before the elevator sounds again signaling their arrival. Wanda just nods thoughtfully before she steps out onto the floor that she hasn’t seen in months. She glances back at her phone and frowns when she realizes that you haven’t responded. She decides that she’ll wait to get unpacked, and she’ll simply drop off your things before searching for you.

“Well, I hope you have fun. I look forward to hearing all about it.”

Pietro blushes again before waving his sister off and changing the subject quickly.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see. Where’s your lady? I thought she’d come visit her favorite Maximoff.”

Wanda would usually roll her eyes but she’s a little shocked to hear that you hadn’t made the rounds yet. That was typically the first thing you did when you arrived at the compound. You’d say hi to everyone and this included her brother despite his over-the-top flirting and occasional egotistical behavior.

“Let’s find out.”

Wanda opens the door to their rooms and is met by silence as she walks inside. She doesn’t have to wonder where you are for long when Boone comes barreling out of the bedroom to meet them. He is in full guard dog mode until he spots Wanda and he starts to wag his tail as he runs over to her. She pets him for a moment before she heads to the bedroom to see what you’re up to.

Pietro and Steve trail behind curiously, but they don’t want to get in the way as Wanda hurries to check on you.

“Y/n?”

She realizes that the lights are off and you must be sleeping. She’s about to leave you be when she spots you tossing and turning on top of the sheets. You’re sweating and breathing hard and it takes Wanda a moment to figure out that you’re not having a nightmare. She’s seen those before and this is different, but she doesn’t spend too much time overthinking it as she rushes over to you.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Wanda quickly reaches out for you and her panic only worsens when she feels how hot your forehead is. She doesn’t notice Steve step inside when he hears how worried Wanda sounds as she finds one of your hands and squeezes.

“Detka, it’s Wanda. Can you open your eyes for me?”

You weren’t sure if Wanda was really there until you feel her grab your hand, and your eyes fly open. You’re sweating profusely and you feel like your heart is going to jump out of your chest, or just plain stop with how quickly it’s beating. You can’t find the words to communicate this so you guide Wanda with a shaky hand to your chest so she can feel for herself.

When Wanda rests her hand against you and feels how fast your heart’s racing, she turns around to find Steve. She hadn’t expected him to be in the room already, but she’s glad that he’s nearby when this happened.

“Steve! We need to get her down to medical.”

The trip downstairs was a blur and you were barely conscious by the time you arrived. Steve had carried you the entire way while Wanda followed with both Pietro and Boone in tow. Pietro was on the phone making sure the best doctors would be downstairs by the time they got there, mentioning who was on their way. Whether she liked it or not, Wanda had become good friends with some of the doctors that worked for her. She’d had to see them more often than she’d care to admit or tell her wife, but she was eternally grateful that one of her favorites was waiting for her when she arrived.

“Dr. Palmer.”

The other redhead immediately steps forward and motions for Steve to set Y/n down in the bed that’s already surrounded by nurses.

“Wanda. Tell me what happened.”

Wanda is about to speak up and tell her all that she knew which unfortunately wasn’t much when Bucky storms into the room. He looks a little harried and Wanda has to stop herself from yelling at him to try and figure out what happened to you. Instead, she looks back to the doctor with a sigh as she looked between you and Bucky.

“I just got here to find her feverish and incoherent. I don’t know what happened to her.”

Bucky is quick to speak up as he turns to Dr. Palmer and the nurses who are getting you hooked up to various monitoring equipment. You are still unresponsive when someone puts a large needle in your arm, and unfortunately Bucky doesn’t have much to add.

“She had a headache when she left work, but she was fine otherwise. She didn’t even leave the clinic today.”

Wanda is about to ask more when she hears her name being spoken in a near whisper. She turns to see you looking at her with a pained expression. She walks past the doctor and everyone else to reach your side, and you flinch slightly as you’re poked again for blood, but you speak up before Wanda can go off on someone. She’s always at her worst when you’re concerned, and you don’t want her to snap at some poor unsuspecting soul.

“What is it, Y/n?”

You look to Bucky before meeting your wife’s worried gaze again. You hold up a hand and Wanda’s quick to grab it before lowering them both back down to your chest. She takes a moment to take in your warm skin and how just beneath it she can feel your slightly slower, but still racing heart.

“I’m okay, Wands.”

Wanda meets your earnest gaze and has several arguments on her the tip of her tongue, but you anticipate this and beat her to it. You take a deep breath before you bring your wife’s hand to your lips with a smile. You kiss it in an attempt to placate her before you whisper.

“My lunch tasted a little weird, but I was hungry, so…”

Wanda’s eyes widen at your words and she immediately scowls at the idea of someone poisoning your food. She looks to Bucky who is already nodding in understanding. He needs to run an errand.

“Find out who’s responsible for this. Take Steve with you.”

You shoot your friends an apologetic look that they miss as they near run out of the room. As the door opens Boone is racing through it in search of you. Pietro had hung back with him since he wasn’t allowed inside, but he quickly scurried after him as the shepherd charged into the room. He came in growling and several people jumped, but you just held out your free hand for him.

“Boone, settle down bud.”

Wanda turns to her brother before speaking rapid fire Sokovian with him. You miss most of it while you pet your panting and whining dog, but you notice when they’re finished as Pietro starts to leave.

“Where’s my favorite Maximoff going?”

Pietro can’t help but smile at this while your wife rolls her eyes at you. He walks back toward your bedside and smiles at you and reaches out for your other hand.

“Good to see you, kid. Sorry you feel like this. We’ll take care of whoever did it.”

You don’t miss your wife’s near-murderous look as she thinks about what she’ll do to whoever is responsible for this. You try not to think about that right now as you grab your brother-in-law’s hand with a smile. You look at him again and almost laugh at how he’s dressed up for maybe the third time since you’ve met him.

“You clean up nicely. You have a date or something?”

You and Pietro talk for a while as the doctor and nurses discuss your blood work and treatments. You don’t pay a lot of attention to it because you’re too tired to really care. That and you know that you’re safe here. Wanda wouldn’t let anyone do anything to harm you here. You look around briefly for Boone and when you don’t find him immediately you frown. Wanda seems to realize this and she just smiles before motioning to underneath your bed.

“He’s under there. Keeping watch.”

You smile at this and open your mouth to respond when a sharp pain in your head makes you cringe. You curse and close your eyes before taking a deep breath to push away the pain. You suppose you should be sleeping. Wanda seems to realize this and Pietro does too because he leaves shortly after with a hug and a promise to check on you soon.

“Have fun on your date.”

He smiles at you before he looks to Wanda and nods toward the door. She is reluctant to leave you, but she does need to talk to him before he leaves for a while. Wanda looks back to you and smiles when she sees Boone’s reappeared from under your bed.

“I’ll be right back, detka, okay?”

You nod and watch as the twins disappear through the door. You take a moment to look and see what you’re being treated with before deciding to take a nap.

“Let me handle this, Wanda. You stay with Y/n until she’s feeling better. I’ll have Bucky call Christine with whatever answers he finds, okay?”

Wanda wants to argue because she would love nothing more than to put a bullet through the head of whoever drugged you. However, her desire to make sure you’re safe and well-taken care of overrides this at the moment. She sighs in defeat before she nods in agreement. She doesn’t need to handle this personally, she just needs to make sure it’s handled, and since she’d tasked Steve and Bucky to do so she knew it would happen. She hugs her brother goodbye before returning to find you and Boone cuddling. His head is resting beside your leg and you have a hand on his head while you sleep soundly.

She just sighs as she moves one of the chairs closer to you and sits down to watch you sleep. She doesn’t know how long the staff will put up with Boone being in here, but she figures she can give him a little bit longer before she banishes him. She watches you breathe steadily as you sleep and her thoughts begin to run wild as she considers what the hell could be going on.

She knew that she shouldn’t have let you go into work today. Last night should have clued her into how much someone wanted to reach you. Not just the person stalking you at work, but someone shooting up the house to try and kill Boone. Then this? Wanda wasn’t sure why someone wanted to get rid of you so badly but it terrified her. She wasn’t one to run and hide with her tail tucked between her legs, but she needed time to make a plan. She had to figure out who was calling the shots on all of this, and that started with calling her prime suspect.

Despite having just told her brother that she would let other people handle it, she knew she had to be the one to confront this particular person. He wouldn’t respond well to someone else going on her behalf, so she promised that as soon as you were up again and stable, she’d tell you her plan and hopefully return before you miss her.

Strucker had not been expecting Wanda to change her mind and insist on meeting today. It was very late, and he didn’t really have time today, but one didn’t keep someone like Wanda Maximoff waiting without consequence. He was curious as to why she wanted to meet after insisting that he give up on any communication.

He’s sipping on a bourbon when Wanda walks into the bar. He immediately realizes that she’s tense, and she spots him quickly and heads over to his table. He’d ordered her a drink, but he’d be shocked if she actually drank it. Not only was she deeply paranoid, but it seemed like she wanted to get right down to business.

“Strucker.”

Wanda slides into the opposite side of the booth with barely a nod of acknowledgement. It took a lot for her to not come in here guns blazing so to speak, and she took a deep breath as she looked to the smiling man across from her.

“Ms. Maximoff this is quite the surprise. May I ask what changed your mind?”

Wanda takes a moment to study the older man across from her. He seems as smug as he usually does, but he also appears genuinely curious. Whether or not he knows what’s happened, or if he’s played a role in it, Wanda can’t tell. However, she knows that she can’t just sit back and be on the defensive anymore.

“I haven’t called you to talk about business. I haven’t changed my mind about that, Strucker, but I do need to discuss something with you.”

Strucker’s confusion turns to intrigue almost too quickly for Wanda to notice, but she sees it and presses on before he can speak. She glances behind Strucker to the two body guards she’s planted to keep things on the up and up.

“Someone’s been stupid enough to try and hurt my wife, twice, and I can’t help but wonder if this particular person is just a spiteful business partner who can’t take no for an answer.”

Wanda watches quite the emotional journey as she glares at the man in front of her angrily. She waits impatiently as he comes up with a response. He struggles to find the words and he eventually just shakes his head with a seemingly ingenuous expression.

“I had no idea. No-nothing to do with this I assure you, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

Wanda simply stares at him for a full minute as she tries to determine how honest he’s being. Strucker’s always been a little difficult to work with. Although he has claimed to be in agreement most times, sometimes he feigned being cooperative and tried doing things his own way. It infuriated Wanda to no end, but she wasn’t sure if he would betray her outright. She especially wasn’t sure if he had the balls to do something like this. He had to know how it would end for him.

“Now why would you do that?”

Wanda sits up and eyes the older man curiously as he answered without hesitation. He almost laughed but he held back because he could tell that the redhead wanted blood and he didn’t want to give her a reason to go after his.

“Because even though I had nothing to do with this I want to remain on your good side. You might be retired Mrs. Maximoff, but you are still a formidable adversary.”

Wanda scowls at this despite how truthful. She briefly wishes he could talk like a human being instead of some ass-backwards politician, but that’s a battle for a different day. Or if she does as she says she will, for never. She eventually caves with a sigh as she eyes Strucker suspiciously. Despite his claim, Wanda knows that he won’t be doing anything for her without a little something for himself. She’s not sure if she’s willing to give it to him.

“I already have people on it. What makes you think I need your help?”

She’s not bluffing. She has nearly a dozen people working around the clock to figure out who snuck onto her property last night, and who could have poisoned you today. So far, she’s heard nothing about either, but she was going to check in as soon as she left here. Strucker simply smiles widely at her and she has to remind herself to keep her gun holstered when he laughs harshly. Her glare goes ignored as he drains the rest of his drink before raising an eyebrow.

“Would you be here if you didn’t need my help?”

Wanda grits her teeth before sitting up so she’s closer to being on his level.

“I’m here because I was—am fairly certain you’re involved. I’m just not sure how yet. The timing is too coincidental for you not to be.”

At that Wanda stands up to leave but before she can step away from the table Strucker’s speaking again. She stops short and briefly contemplates shooting him for what he says next.

“If it’s any consolation, if I was behind this, your wife would already be dead.”

Wanda digs her nails into the palm of her hand and grits her teeth as she turns back to see Strucker looking at her with a straight face. He’s telling the truth and despite how much she wanted him to be the answer, she realizes right then that he wasn’t responsible for this. He was competent enough to get a job done the first time. This unfortunately left her back at square one.

You’re still asleep when Wanda returns. She doesn’t go to see you immediately because she has to check in with a few people first, but she makes sure to ask Bucky how you are doing as soon as she sees him. He’s going back and forth between medical and Pietro as they try to get to the bottom of things. Apparently, she wasn’t hiding her anxiety well and Bucky picks up on it immediately as they both head toward the elevator to Pietro’s office.

“Y/n’s doing, okay?”

Last report was that you were sleeping, but stable. You’re being treated for pain and your bloodwork came back consistent with heavy metal poisoning, so you were being treated with an antidote for that. Apparently, it was now just a waiting game while the toxins left your system, but this wasn’t enough for Wanda. She wanted you feeling better now, despite how irrational and unrealistic it was. She also wanted whoever was responsible to pay.

Bucky nods as he presses the button and waits for the doors to shut in front of them. The compound is bustling as usual, but he can tell that Wanda’s only got one thing, rather one person on her mind right now.

“She’s resting. The cameras in medical are working, and Boone’s still under her bed.”

Wanda can’t help but smile at this. She knew it was going to be difficult to get Boone to leave you alone. He was very overprotective when you were sick, but luckily, he was well behaved enough to just sit and keep watch. Bucky’s brought him water and food, but he mostly left it alone. He’d probably try to get him to go out on a walk later tonight if he’d tolerate it. Wanda knows that she shouldn’t let him stay in there, but a tiny voice in the back of her mind is telling her to not leave you alone. So much has happened in a short amount of time and she doesn’t want to risk anything else.

She glanced up to see what floor they were on and she started to tap her foot impatiently. She wanted to get this over with so she could wait for you to wake up, but she could only do so much to hurry things along. She tries to remind herself that you’re safe here, and that you have people looking after you. Even if they can’t be her at the moment.

“Nat said that she and Yelena were going to visit her too. I think they should be back soon.”

Wanda almost forgot that she’d asked her friends to try and track down the man who had snuck onto her property last night. She looks to Bucky again with a frown as she recalls what he’d told her. Upon visiting the restaurant that you got lunch from today, he found that it was closed early for an undisclosed reason. He was working on figuring out who works there and he plans on visiting them first thing tomorrow to question them. Wanda had wanted to do this herself, but the amount of terror she’d inflict upon someone who may not have known what they were doing would be too much. Not to mention she didn’t want to draw that much attention to herself.

“Did they mention finding anything out?”

“It was fucking Rumlow!”

Wanda frowns as she looks back to the image on the television in front of her. She’s with Yelena, Nat, Pietro, Steve and Bucky in the older Maximoff’s office reviewing the security footage from last night yet again. Yelena swears that she can recognize the man, but he’s practically covered from head to toe. Wanda opens her mouth to say this, but Yelena is determined.

“I’m positive. I’ve seen the fucker run away from me enough times.”

Wanda looks around and sees that Steve and Bucky don’t look convinced. Pietro looks unsure and Nat just shrugs at her. She sighs before shaking her head and asking a question that no one really has the answer to.

“If it is Rumlow, why did he miss? “

It’s no secret to anyone here that the brunette was good at what he did, and the likelihood of him missing a shot, even at night with the weather was highly unlikely. He was experienced and should have killed Boone if that was his goal. Everyone seems to be on the same page and despite not liking it, Nat shakes her head.

“Maybe he wasn’t trying to kill him. Maybe it was a warning.”

Wanda scowls at this and opens her mouth to speak but Pietro beats her to it. He’s just as unsettled as she is, but he’s getting angrier about it than her.

“The person stalking Y/n at work was also a warning. What about her being poisoned? Like you said, Wanda, if Strucker was behind this, he wouldn’t give Y/n so many warnings.”

Wanda nodded in agreement because if she only believed one thing that Strucker told her tonight, it was that he wouldn’t have failed to hurt you if he’d tried. Wanda’s still trying to come to terms with this while figuring out who is actually behind the incidents.

“Agreed. I don’t think it’s Rumlow, Yelena.”

She sees the blonde is about to argue, so she does her best to pacify her without getting too bogged down.

“But in case we’re wrong, let’s circulate this picture.” Wanda gestures to the screen that has the best image of the shooter from last night with a frown.

“In case someone recognizes him.”

Nat nods and mutters something about having Vision do it, and Wanda just nods. She doesn’t want to tell him too much, but she knows that Nat will be discrete.

Pietro looks to his sister who is deep in thought and he walks around his desk to reach out for her. She stiffens slightly before relaxing at the hand on her shoulder, and she turns to her brother with a tired sigh.

“What about you, sestra? How are you holding up? What’s your plan?”

Pietro knows that his sister is worried. The fact that she’s here and not at home confirms this. That said, she would have likely brought Y/n here after what happened at work yesterday. The point was that his sister was dealing with something that she wasn’t used to. Usually, she was on the offensive and if someone targeted her, she took them out first. Unfortunately, this time she wasn’t the target, and she didn’t know who to go after. Her prime suspect was a bust, and you’re in a hospital bed recovering from being poisoned. Wanda’s out of sorts and she needs someone to tell her that she’ll figure it out.

Wanda takes a moment to look around the room at her family before smiling slightly as she turns back to Pietro.

“Being here helps, but it’s only temporary. Hopefully we’ll figure this out before Y/n grows impatient.”

A couple of them smile at the thought of you getting restless and wanting to go back to work. As much as they hate what happened, it has bought Wanda more time to figure things out. Knowing that you’ve been targeted multiple times will make you more lenient, but you won’t stay hidden away forever. Yelena smiles at the thought and shrugs.

“We can keep her distracted.”

Wanda can tell that Yelena means trouble by her tone and she is about to warn her off when Bucky’s phone rings. He answers it and listens to someone speak before responding calmly. “We’ll be right there.”

He hangs up before looking to Wanda as he stands up straight. There’s a lot to unpack in the short sentence he was told, but now isn’t the time. They need to get to medical now.

“We need to get downstairs.”

Boone shifts slightly from where he’s lying under your hospital bed. He’s been there for a while and he’s getting restless but he stays alert in case you need him. He eyes the food and water bowl in the corner of the room and considers going to get some when he hears something above him. He listens before sitting up carefully as the noise continues. Boone sneaks out from under the bed and sees you shaking slightly in your sleep. He whines when it becomes more violent and he’s barking loudly when your monitors start to alarm.

He starts to bark again when people suddenly run into the room. He recognizes them from before and just watches anxiously as they rush to your side and reach for a drug by your bedside.

“She’s seizing.”

“Get me 20mgs of midaz”

The nurse who administers it watches the clock and you simultaneously, and after 15 seconds of you continuing to seize, she calls it.

“I need another half dose, and someone page Dr. Palmer.”

Boone is watching intently as one person runs to grab their phone while the other two stay by your side and continue to administer antiepileptics. Your seizure has been going on for nearly 90 seconds before you finally respond to the third dose of midazolam. Boone whines from where he sits off to the side watching as you still and start to breathe normally again. The monitors you’re hooked up to have returned to their normal monotone beeping and Boone finally lies down but still watches you carefully.

When Dr. Palmer arrives about 5 minutes after you’ve settled, the first thing she notices is Boone’s sitting beside you with his head resting on your shoulder. He’s not in the way, but she can tell that her staff are slightly wary of him. She’ll have to address that after she figures out what happened to you.

“Dr. Hale, what happened?”

The blonde stands a little taller as she addresses the other doctor. Taylor Hale is a first-year resident who’s specializing in neurology under Dr. Palmer, but she spends a few nights a week here at the compound assisting with the redhead’s research as well as treating some of the patients. She hadn’t expected to treat anything more than a few agents who got banged up, so she was surprised and fairly horrified when you came in. Of course, she knew who you were because no sane person would step into this building without knowing who was in charge here. Granted, you weren’t one of the two Maximoffs that were in charge, but you were married to one of them and by association you were important.

“We were watching the monitors in the lounge, and everything looked normal here, but then we heard barking. A few seconds later Dr. Maximoff’s heart rate spiked to over 100, and we came in to find her seizing.”

The blonde continues to tell the story, and mentions how many doses of midazolam you got before responding. Christine frowns at this and looks to the medications that you’re currently receiving. She has to step closer to the bed and Boone as she does this but he just watches her closely before she takes a step back. The redhead takes a moment to think about what she’s been told, and she steps over to where she sees Boone’s food is and grabs one of the treats sitting next to it.

“So, Boone barks when she starts seizing and it lasts for how long – 90 seconds?”

All three of the others in the room nod in agreement, and Christine looks back to you before posing another question. She’s curious about what they think because although she has a pretty good idea, she knows that they might not. They’re here to learn and since you’re not in any immediate danger right now, taking a minute or two to teach this won’t do any harm.

“Now, can you think of reasons why Y/n would have a seizure?”

The three of them pause to think about it before one speaks up.

“Heavy metal toxicity causes it”

“How?”

Another speaks up to answer. “The uremic toxins build up from the metabolism of metal.”

She nods before turning to Dr. Hale who hasn’t said anything as she thinks about what Dr. Palmer might be getting at.

“Correct, but would we expect this after dialysis is complete and the uremia is resolved?”

They thought about what your blood work looked like post dialysis and shook their heads. Your liver, kidney and hemogram values were all normal.

“What could currently be a potential cause of excitation of her CNS?”

Dr. Hale speaks up quickly before she does what Dr. Palmer did and reassesses the fluids they have you on.

“Re-exposure through enterohepatic recirculation.”

Dr. Palmer nods before she walks back over to Boone and holds out a treat to him. He turns and sniffs it before accepting it gently.

“Good boy, Boone. Exactly, so what do we do about it?”

Silence.

“Redialyze?”

Christine shakes her head. “Not necessary and not without risks.”

Dr. Hale is already doing the math as Dr. Palmer pulls out her phone.

“We just need to keep giving her the chelating agent for the half-life of the toxin.”

She nods before dialing Bucky to let him know what’s happened. She knows that this place will be flooded in minutes, but for now she takes a moment to take in the silence.

“Calculate the dose for the suspect metal and I’ll check it after I call Mr. Barnes.”

It is almost 4 in the morning, but she has a feeling that he, as well as the rest of the team is still up trying to solve this mystery. She’d thought about how close someone would need to get to Y/n or how much they’d need to give her in food to get her this sick. Her thoughts are cut off by the sound of Bucky’s voice.

“Hey.”

“Bucky hi. Can you and Wanda come down here?”

Even though Bucky had told her that her wife was stable, Wanda still near ran down to medical with the brunette on her heels. She’d been surprised to hear that Christine was still here, or that she’d come back. This usually only happened if something went wrong, and with this in mind Wanda tried to remain calm as she walks into medical. She passes a few other patients who are sleeping before she arrives to your room to see it more crowded than she’d expected. One doctor was setting something up with your fluids while Christine looked at your chart again.

It wasn’t until Wanda turned to look at you that she saw Boone. He was still sitting by your bedside with his head resting on the mattress. He looked tired and Wanda knows she needs to give him a break.

“Christine, is everything okay?”

The other redhead turns around at the sound of your wife’s voice and she hears Boone start as well. His collar clinks loudly as he sits up and gives Wanda his full attention. She hears Bucky stop behind her to listen to the answer, but she doesn’t pay him much mind as Christine nods and Wanda nearly sighs in relief.

“Yes, everything’s okay. She had a seizure about 10 minutes ago, but we’ve started her on something that should help neutralize the toxin for as long as it’s in her system.”

Wanda frowns at the news that you hadn’t just been sleeping peacefully. She’s feeling guilty for leaving again and she looks back to you and sees that even in sleep you seem tense. You’re sweating and your brow is furrowed the way it does when you think too hard. Wanda finally turns to Boone and holds out her hand to him with a small smile.

“That’s good to hear. I hope he hasn’t caused too much trouble.”

Wanda looks back from petting the yawning dog to the two doctors who are shaking their heads. The blonde is changing your fluid bag and running the line through the pump as Christine smiles at Boone who sits while panting happily with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. He nudges Wanda’s hand with his nose when she stops petting him but he quickly turns to lick Bucky when he starts to scratch his back.

“The sm-smartest boy.”

“Not at all. He actually picked up that something was wrong before the monitors did. He’s very smart.”

It’s as if Boone knows that he’s being talked about and he practically preens when Christine says this. Wanda smiles proudly while Bucky laughs at this. Despite it being true. He’s about to ask how long until she expects you to wake up, but a quiet groan cuts him off, and all five heads whip around to look to where you’re starting to stir.

You mumble under your breath as you fight to open your eyes and see who’s around you. You’d heard voices that you recognized but couldn’t place immediately, but suddenly you’re surrounded. Boone is quick to jump back towards you and nose at your hand with a loud whine that makes you cringe. Wanda reaches out for you next and she feels her heart clench at how cold your hand is and how pained you look.

“Open your eyes for me, detka, and I’ll get him a little brother, or sister.”

You don’t open your eyes immediately, but you squeeze your wife’s hand with a small smile as you think about what she’s saying. You’re not sure who else is in the room with you, but if you had to guess it was Bucky and a doctor. You blame your drugged, fatigued state for what you say next, and although Bucky coughs awkwardly and the doctors look away to give you a modicum of privacy, Wanda just smiles at you.

“I thought we were already working on that. IVF or whatever.”

Wanda laughs at this before she shakes her head as she reaches out to brush your hair behind your ear. Her smile widens when your eyes open and you blink away some of your sleepiness. You smile at her and reach out for the hand that’s against your cheek with a sigh. You both miss the short exchange between the doctors as they read each other’s mind. Dr. Hale makes a note to herself to test your blood for one more thing once she’s back in the lab.

“We can talk about that later, Y/n. Once you’re feeling better.”

You nod before you turn your attention to the others in the room. You scratch Boone behind his ears and boop his nose as you greet everyone else. Bucky nods at you while you struggle to clear the sleep from your eyes.

“Dr. Palmer. Dr. Hale. Thank you for your expertise. And your drugs.”

Christine laughs softly at this as she moves forward to greet you with a friendly smile. The two of you have seen plenty of each other over the years, but it has been a while since you’d been down in medical. This might be your third time being down here for your own injuries instead of anyone else’s. Usually Nat and Yelena’s.

“Always happy to help, and congratulations.”

You smile appreciatively before saying something to that affect. You stifle a yawn as Dr. Hale leaves to run that test for Dr. Palmer. She nods to the three still in the room before disappearing quickly. She takes a deep breath before straightening out her coat with a sigh. She was a little surprised that you knew who she was, but then again, she really shouldn’t be. Despite not being as present as Wanda had over the years, she knew you kept tabs on your friends who ended up down here for whatever reasons.

Taylor stops in the lab and quickly moves to the fridge that has your blood in it. She stops suddenly when the lights flicker for a few seconds leaving her a little disoriented. She waits until they stop before looking through the labeled tubes until she finds yours.

She spends a little longer finding where the hCg detection tests are. They’re not normally run here, or rather she doesn’t typically do it, so it takes a few minutes for her to find them. Once she does, she takes your blood and gets the test set up.

She’s about to drop your blood into the supernatant when the lights flicker again.

“What the…”

Wanda frowns as the lights flicker once again. She’s not sure what’s happening, but she knows that the power going out will cause more problems down here than anywhere else. Bucky reads her mind and excuses himself to go investigate and make sure the backup power will work. Once it’s just you, Wanda and Christine, Wanda turns to the other redhead and asks the questions she’s been wrestling with all night.

“So how do you think this happened?”

Christine sighs before she gestures for Wanda to take a seat in the chair beside your bed. She does after moving it closer so she can hold your hand, and you smile as you try to fight your fatigue enough to hear what the doctor has to say. You have your theories, but you’re not the expert by any means.

“I believe that you were poisoned Y/n, and since you mentioned your lunch tasting off it makes sense that would be the source. Did you get your food yourself?”

You shake your head because as you’d promised Wanda you hadn’t left the clinic. This also meant that Bucky didn’t leave it either. You’d asked someone who was already going out to grab you something. You say this and Wanda doesn’t want to ask but she needs to consider all of the options. The other redhead seems to be on the same page and she waits for Wanda to speak.

“Who brought you lunch?”

You frown at the question because you don’t remember who you asked. You think about it for a moment before you come up with a name.

“One of the assistants said he was going out. Tyler, but he’s been there forever Wands. It wasn’t him.”

Wanda seems to consider this briefly before she shakes her head. She doesn’t want to argue with you, but she will be looking into him as well first thing tomorrow. Christine just nods at this before Wanda mentions that she’ll follow up at the restaurant tomorrow.

Wanda and Christine talk for a little while longer, but you’re drifting in and out of sleep. Boone’s returned to his place by your side, and has rested his head on your lap in what looks like the least comfortable position possible. You don’t notice though and you also miss Christine leaving you and Wanda alone. Your wife considers her next move before she reaches out for your hand again.

“Y/n?”

You open your eyes to see Wanda standing over you with a questioning look. The lights have dimmed and the way the light hits her hair from behind makes it look like its glowing and you smile.

“Do you want me to stay with you for a bit?”

You nod immediately before taking a deep breath and moving over as much as you can without exerting yourself too much. You still groan in effort and Wanda frowns in worry, but she doesn’t get to protest before you turn back to her with a grin.

“Come sit my dear.”

Wanda just rolls her eyes at you but moves quickly to occupy the space you’ve made for her. Boone shifts slightly before resting his head down right next to yours. You turn to kiss his forehead before turning back to your wife. It was a tight fit, but when you wrap your arms around her to pull the redhead close you don’t care. You breathe a sigh of relief as you close your eyes and rest your head on Wanda’s shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

Wanda hums in approval before she scoots back so she’s even closer to you. She yawns as she too closes her eyes and decides to try and take a nap. It’s obscenely early and she needs to sleep. Granted she’d thought she’d be in her own bed, but she’d rather be here with you than alone in her own.

“I love you, Y/n.”

You smile against Wanda’s neck before you kiss her cheek. “I love you too, Wands.”

Wanda isn’t sure what wakes her up at first. She’s sore from sleeping on an uncomfortable bed, but she’d been tired enough that it hadn’t mattered. She opens her eyes and realizes the lights are back on but you’re still asleep. There’s a low sound accompanying the background noise of your monitors, but it isn’t until Wanda turns to face you that she realizes what it is.

As soon as she sees you’re still asleep, she sees Boone sitting up straight with his ears back and a look of fierce concentration on his features. Wanda frowns in confusion as she turns to see what he’s growling at and she nearly curses under her breath when she spots Vision standing in the doorway.

“Wanda, I apologize for waking you, but I have urgent news.”

Wanda rolls out of bed as quickly and carefully as possible before she tries to make herself look presentable as possible. She had slept in the clothes she wore yesterday and her hair was a mess, but she couldn’t do much about that right now. She sighs as she runs a hand through her hair and takes a couple of steps away from you so as not to wake you.

“It’s alright, what time is it?”

When Vision says it’s nearly 10 Wanda’s jaw drops in surprise. How did she sleep in so late, and how had no one come to wake her up already? She doesn’t get to think about this much before she leads Vision out of the room. She doesn’t want to wake you up and as the two of them walk towards the elevator, Wanda takes out her phone to text Bucky. She asks him to check on you soon before she turns her attention to Vision who’s looking more eager than she usually sees him.

“What did you find out?”

Wanda hadn’t seen the older man for a while. In all honesty she was avoiding him because she had so much going on, and he was still a little clingy despite everything. She waits as he presses the button on the elevator before turning to her. He’s frowning but Wanda can tell he’s not upset.

“I’ve confirmed that it was Rumlow that trespassed on your property the night before last.”

Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise and she curses the fact she has to apologize to Yelena as she walks into the elevator. She thinks about what this could mean with a nod but she has to make sure he’s positive before she starts down that road.

“You’re sure?”

Vision nods without hesitation before mentioning that someone recognized his gun from the video and he’s since confirmed it. Wanda groans at the idea of having to deal with Rumlow. He is a pain in the ass and he hates her; he always has. She also realizes that either Rumlow’s gone rogue, or Strucker had lied to her face. She scowls at the thought and Vision seems to realize what she’s thinking and he coughs nervously before continuing.

“Yes, well there’s more. I had someone go back to the restaurant that Y/n got lunch from yesterday and it turns out it was delivered by a driver who didn’t tamper with the food. So, she must have been poisoned another way.”

Wanda walks out of the elevator before turning to the older man with a confused frown. This doesn’t make any sense. Based on what Christine found, you’d ingested the poison, so if it wasn’t your lunch, how else could it have happened. She sighs as she keeps walking with a groan. Her day is already starting to get out of hand.

“I’ll check with Y/n once she’s up to see if we’ve missed anything.”

Vision stops walking as soon as she says this, and Wanda stops short of reaching Pietro’s office to turn and look at him. She figured her brother would want to know whatever Vision found out, and she’s also eager to figure out if he’s found anything else out about your stalker/poisoner.

“There’s one more thing, Wanda.”

She waits for him to continue, but when he doesn’t, she gets a little frustrated. She’s sore from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, she’s still a little tired and she’s getting more stressed by the second. She starts to close the distance between Pietro’s office and she waves Vision along.

“What is it? Come on, let’s see if Pietro’s in.”

Wanda’s surprised to feel Vision grab her hand and pull her to a sudden stop before she can knock on the door. She whips around to face him with a scowl and he immediately drops her hand, but she’s still pissed. She doesn’t get a chance to tell him off before he’s apologizing and confusing Wanda even more.

“I’m sorry – it’s just, I don’t know if you’ll want your brother to hear this.”

Wanda’s shooting Vision a bewildered look and that prompts him to finally spit it out. She’s not sure what she expected him to say, but this certainly was not it.

“While looking into the possibility of someone at work poisoning her, it was discovered that Y/n had an affair.”

Wanda had to fight the sudden urge to slap him across the face for suggesting such a thing. She also had to hold back her instinct to say the first thing that came to mind, or rather scream it. She knocked on the door to her brother’s office a little harder than necessary.

“That’s bullshit. Who told you that?”

“Come in!”

Wanda doesn’t wait for Vision to answer and she flings the door open and steps inside her brother’s office with a face like thunder. Pietro looks up and immediately is put on edge by his sister’s expression, but he doesn’t have time to ask her what’s wrong before Vision comes scurrying in after her.

“I’m sorry, Wanda, but my source is reliable.”

Pietro frowns in confusion as he looks between a frazzled Vision and a near murderous Wanda. He decides to speak up before someone, Vision most likely, gets slapped.

“What’s going on, Wanda?”

Wanda takes deep breath before she shuts the door behind Vision and turns to her brother. She moves to lean against one of the chairs in front of his desk before glancing at him and then turning to glare at Vision.

“Vision was just about to tell me why he thinks Y/n had an affair.”

Part 5

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #pietro maximoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff & reader #yelena belova & reader #yelena belova #mob au #marvel fanfic

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bobgasm · 6 months

Text

kingpin ⦾ four

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x ofc!emery young word count: 2971 warnings: grumpy suppliers, secrets, a fateful meeting

summary: in which they finally meet

author’s note: this is the part where i threw out my original outline 🫠

three | kingpin | five

Bob ran his hand through his hair as Lenny, one of the Feathers’ main alcohol suppliers, ranted in his ear. He was in half a mind to end the call and send him an email explaining the issue, but he knew that would anger him further.

“Lenny, I understand the situation we’ve put you in and I’m sorry,” Bob apologised. “Our accounting software apparently ran an update at the time of the transfer of our bill file, but I’m working with Decker to get your bill paid ASAP.”

He lied through his teeth like it was second nature, and to him, it definitely was. He barely needed to think before he spoke, the words coming out before he even had time to make sense of them. Luckily, he’d already figured out how to make a manual payment, so he was in the process of loading all missed bills into the system to be paid.

“If you aren’t paid by 5pm then please let me know and I’ll personally transfer you the balance that Feathers owes you,” Bob continued. “That’s the best I can do for you right now.”

Lenny grunted in acknowledgement. “If this happens again, you’ll be losing our business.”

“We both know you can’t afford to lose our business,” Bob replied firmly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Let me get back to work.”

Lenny hung up, disgruntled by Bob’s words, and Bob exhaled heavily. Part of him wanted to leave Lenny’s bill unpaid purely so he had a reason to knock some sense into him, but he knew Morgan would be ropeable if Feathers or Dice had no alcohol delivery next week.

He created a new bill in the system and checked it against the invoice he’d found, entering the amount owed before selecting the due date as today. He did that for the next thirty odd invoices he had before logging into the business bank accounts and approving the payments. It’d take a couple of hours for them to be approved by the bank, but he wasn’t worried.

What he was worried about was that Halo had been organising interviews all week, which had interfered with him learning how to pay the damned bills. He was pissed at Decker for leaving them high and dry. Decker had to have known he was planning on retiring, so why hadn’t he said anything? Now Bob felt like he was scrambling and he hated being made a fool of.

It didn’t help that his father was breathing down his back about updates, because he had also been tasked with tracking the almost seventy year old down. Richard still didn’t want to bring Coyote in, even though his tracking skills and connections were phenomenal. Bob was stretched thin trying to keep everything in order, but he knew it was only a matter of time before word got out about Decker. He was hoping it was sooner rather than later.

Bob sat up a little straighter when there was a knock at his office door. “Come in,” he told them, gathering all the papers on his desk into one near pile.

He looked up to see Halo open the door with a coffee for him. “Thought you might need this,” she said with a smile, walking towards him and placing the mug on his desk.

Halo, also known as Callie Bassett, was Bob’s assistant. She’d been hired a few years ago to help keep everything in order, helping make sure all the businesses that the Floyd’s owned ran smoothly. She worked closely with both of the Floyd siblings, who managed their own respective areas. Morgan ran Feathers, a strip club, and Dice, which was a casino in Downtown LA. Bob handled the construction company, which was in the midst of building a hotel on a plot of land they’d acquired recently.

“I do, thank you,” he replied gratefully. “Have any more applications come through?”

“One late last night that looks promising,” she replied. “I haven’t had a chance to call her yet because I’ve been trying to pacify disgruntled suppliers.”

Bob ran a hand over his face. “I’ve just sent the final payments through. They should all be paid by the end of the day.”

Halo nodded. “I’ll pass the information along,” she told him. “I don’t want to add more to your plate, but I’m afraid that wages are due tomorrow.”

“Fucking hell,” Bob cursed. “I appreciate it, Halo. See if you can get in contact with the person who applied last night. I need someone doing this, like, yesterday.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

She left without another word, his office door clicking shut behind her. Bob had no fucking idea how to sort the wages out. He knew it was likely a similar process, but he had timesheets to collate and figure out what everyone’s hourly rate was. It was going to be a long night, he knew that for sure.

Calls kept coming in throughout the day from suppliers who hadn’t been paid, but Halo had it handled. Unless they were truly belligerent, Bob was left to try and figure out the payroll system. It operated similarly to the system used for invoicing and bills, but had all the employees’ information already loaded. He copied the previous fortnight’s template for each employee, paired it up with their timesheet for hours worked, and then processed them to be paid tomorrow.

Halo interrupted him once to deliver lunch which he was grateful for. Bob practically inhaled the sandwich while fielding calls from Coyote about the ongoing investigation with Garcia. Mickey Garcia was a local cop who was on their payroll, but while the police ran their investigation about his suspected dealings with the Floyd’s, all of his salary was paid in cash. Coyote was trying to find out what the holdup was with the transfer so he could hand it over to Garcia later, which only stressed Bob out further.

He had no idea how Decker handled everything. He’d made his job look easy enough that any man off the street could do it. As Bob was finding out, that wasn’t the case at all. He felt like he was at his wits’ end, so he paid Coyote from his own account so he could make the withdrawal for Garcia. He’d figure out the proper way to go about paying their more illegitimate contractors later. For now, this was the only solution he had.

Halo stopped in once more before she left, telling Bob that she’d managed to get in touch with Emery, the person who’d applied for the job late last night, and organised an interview with them in the morning. It was set for ten, in case he was staying later than anticipated. Bob appreciated the thought and wished her a goodnight, getting up to make himself a coffee and finding Coyote sitting at the table in the kitchenette.

“You pay Garcia alright?” Bob asked.

“He’s happy,” Coyote replied, leaning back in his chair as he stared at the younger man he called his boss. “Where’s Decker?”

“That’s the million dollar question,” Bob replied. “Anyone else here?”

Coyote shook his head. “Only me,” he replied. “Halo just left.”

“My office,” Bob told him, coffee long forgotten about. Leading the way back to his office and closing the door behind them. “Richard doesn’t want anyone to know this, but Decker’s gone. Retired early Monday morning.”

“That’s what the phone call was about?” Coyote wondered aloud. Bob nodded briefly. “Why doesn’t he want anyone to know?”

“Until we can talk to him and find out why his retirement wasn’t discussed, or a replacement brought in, it leaves us vulnerable. Richard expects me to hire a replacement, keep things ticking over smoothly, and track down Decker. None of which is easy,” Bob explained. “I’m only telling you because I’m spread thin. I need you to track him down discreetly. Offer your contacts up to 50 large if you trust it’ll buy their silence. I need him found.”

“Do you have any leads?” Coyote asked.

“I haven’t had much free time to even start,” Bob confessed. “You’re my right hand. I should’ve brought you in on this earlier.”

“I’m in now,” Coyote told him. “I’ll stop by his place and see if I can find anything. Chances are he cleaned it, but I’ll reach out to Maverick and Ice, see if they can check the airports and docks for any footage or comb through passenger manifests.”

Bob nodded, bringing Decker’s disappearance to Maverick and Ice would help exponentially. They had buddies located at every possible exit out of the country, so if anyone could find Decker, it was them.

“Good, keep me updated. Don’t tell them who he is or why we need to find him,” Bob reminded him. “Say it’s come straight from Richard Floyd. His name still strikes fear in those men, so they won’t go to him with any information.”

“I’m on it, boss,” Coyote told him.

Bob knew he could trust him, it was Maverick he was worried about. He had a tendency to go out on his own and try to solve problems by himself, but tended to make things worse. Ice always managed to smooth things over, but if the shit hit the fan with this, Maverick would breathe his last breath.

“Keep Mav on a tight leash,” he added. “We need Decker alive.”

Coyote nodded once in confirmation. “What about the rest of it? Any luck finding a replacement?”

Bob hummed. “Too old, they know better. They’d rat us out the second they got a whiff of anything remotely illegal,” he said. “Halo organised another interview tomorrow, so we’ll see how that goes. Need ‘em young enough to mold them into the kind of accountant we need, desperate enough that this is the best offer they’ll get.”

“Smart,” Coyote agreed. “Hook ‘em in until they’d be buried with us if they even thought about taking a deal.”

Bob smirked at the praise. “Find me Decker. I’m going home.”

Bob was back in the office bright and early. He still had a bunch of wages to finalise before sending them off to be approved, but he’d needed sleep. The longer he stared at the screen of his computer, the more jumbled everything became. He was confusing himself and growing frustrated, so he’d called it a night. Grateful that Coyote was handling one of his problems so he could focus on other areas.

Halo arrived shortly after eight with a breakfast sandwich she dropped off for him and a piping hot latte, exactly how he liked it. He polished off the breakfast sandwich before finishing up the last few employees wages in the payroll system. When he finished, he sipped his coffee and exported the wage file to the bank accounts responsible for their businesses. Double checking each employee was paid from the right account before clicking approve and rubbing his hands over his face.

He didn’t know how some people enjoyed this kind of work. It was tedious and repetitive and he was sick to death of staring at his computer. Standing up from his desk, he stretched his arms above his head before bending forward and trying to touch his toes.

A knock at his door saw him straightening up and clearing his throat as he ran his hand down the front of his shirt. “Come in,” he said, fixing his tie as the door opened.

“Hi, Mr Floyd, I’m Emery Young. I’m here for an interview?” The woman asked.

Bob took a second to look at her. She was young, sure, and not just by name. She had bright honey-coloured eyes and her thick hair framed her face in loose waves. She was dressed the part, with a cream blouse and black slacks that hugged her hips and thighs, and Bob knew her ass likely looked just as amazing in them.

“Of course, Ms. Young,” Bob greeted. “Please take a seat.”

Emery closed the door before sitting down in one of the chairs Bob had gestured to, and he got comfortable in his own chair. Halo had printed off a copy of Emery’s résumé and Bob reached for it. He wished he’d had the chance to have a look through it before she’d arrived, but he’d clearly lost track of time.

“Thank you for coming in,” he told her, briefly glancing up to see her fold her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry for the mess, I’m usually a little more organised than this.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him with a tight smile.

“It says here you’re currently employed as a housekeeper?” Bob asked, eyes scanning her résumé with skeptical curiosity. When he looked back up at her she nodded in acknowledgement.

“I am,” she said. “I’ve been trying to find an accounting job for almost a year in my hometown, but there’s not a lot on offer. I have to pay the bills somehow, you know?”

Bob chuckled lightly. “I do,” he agreed. “Do you know much about the construction industry?”

“No,” Emery replied truthfully. “From my understanding, you need an accountant, not a builder.”

“You’re right.” Bob chuckled again. “Are you local?”

“I currently live a couple hours away, but I’m in the process of moving out here,” she told him. “More job opportunities in bigger cities.”

Bob had to agree. “Tell me a bit more about yourself,” he prompted, letting the papers rest on his desk while he leant back in his chair.

Emery cleared her throat and sat up a little bit straighter, opting to place one hand on top of the back of her other instead of wringing her fingers together. “I put myself through college by working two jobs. I know I’m young and don’t have a lot of practice as some of the other candidates who’ve applied probably do, but I’m hardworking, driven and reliable.”

“I manage the construction business, but my family also owns a few others around town. The role wouldn’t be solely for Floyd Construction, but also for Feathers and Dice,” Bob informed her. “Some of the work would be time consuming. Do you have any other commitments that could possibly affect the odd late night?”

“As opposed to cleaning toilets, which is soul crushing?” Emery joked. It surprised Bob, but he found himself laughing anyway. “I have excellent time management skills and can easily prioritise whichever jobs to complete first. As for other commitments, no, though I’d argue that I’m pretty efficient with my work. I don’t like staying late.”

Bob hummed as he mulled her answer over. So far, her answers stood out to him more than the other candidates. She was willing to make the move to a new place for work, which meant he likely had her nibbling at the baited hook dangling in front of her. He needed something to make her bite, letting him know that she was truly hooked.

“Are you familiar with the Wiler accounting system at all?” Bob asked, which was the system he’d been battling with all week to try and pay bills and employees.

“I am.” Emery responded with a firm nod.

“What about their payroll system?”

Emery cocked her head to the side. “Do you not have a payroll officer?”

“Our previous accountant handled any and all monetary transactions,” Bob replied honestly.

“Can I ask why they left?” She asked, curiosity laced in her tone. There was something in her eyes and the way she’d set her jaw that piqued Bob’s interest, though he wasn’t sure what it was. None of the other applicants had taken on the kind of tone or posture that she had.

Bob steeled his gaze, locking his eyes with hers. “He retired,” he told her truthfully. “It came as a shock to us all.”

Bob thought Emery seemed pleased with the answer as she nodded her head. “So, I’m right in assuming you need someone to start as soon as possible, then?”

“You are,” he replied. “If you were successful, when could you start?”

“Two weeks,” she answered. “I’d have to hand my notice in, and find a place to live.”

Bob stored the information away. “Do you have any further questions for me?”

“I do,” Emery replied. “What are the benefits you can offer me?”

“Other than a better paying job than cleaning toilets?” Bob replied, watching the corner of her mouth twitch as she tried to suppress a smile. “Off the top of my head, healthcare, dental, and a new car.”

“The advertisement said there was the ability to partially work from home,” she said. “Would a computer be supplied and a stipulated cost toward my electric and wifi bill be covered?”

“It would be reviewed once the trial period is over and an amendment to the original contract has been signed.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr Floyd,” Emery said, rising to her feet. She offered a hand to Bob and he rose slowly to shake it, unsure exactly of the outcome of the interview. Was she happy with what they could offer, or was she politely declining? Either way, he would think about it over the weekend, so far, she was a shoo-in.

“And you, Ms Young,” he replied.

He enjoyed watching her turn around and showcase exactly how good he knew those slacks would make her ass look. The door clicked shut behind her and he blew out a breath, deciding to give her a minute to leave before he spoke with Halo.

When he was sure she was gone, he opened the door to his office and leant against the doorframe. “Can you write up a letter of offer for Ms Young before Monday morning?”

“I’ll have it for you by nine,” she replied.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fic #mob!au #mob!bob fooyd

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writtenstars0428 · 1 year

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coming home with you

⟡ some nights ⟡ hong joshua // 761 words ⟡ no sensitive contents ⟡ hello! i'm back with another installment of my short fic series—some nights. this has been in my drafts since holiday season but i haven't had the time to polish it up. also, after writing here for 2 years (time flew by so quickly!), i finally launched by ko-fi account (yay!). there's nothing there yet but i'll probably tell you guys if i ever post something there :) anyways, i hope you enjoy this fic. ⟡ other stories

that night when you and joshua miss home

The sound of the train doors opening woke you up.

Sleepily, you looked around and saw that you were near your station. You immediately sat up straight and checked your phone for the time. It was already nearing midnight.

After having a really busy day and hopping in a train immediately after work to travel for five hours from Busan to Seoul, it was no wonder you fell asleep. It didn't help that every passenger on the subway was so quiet you could only hear the therapeutic sound of the wagons moving over the rails. It wasn't surprising though, especially since it was the last train of the day. Everyone was probably as tired as you.

You unlocked your phone and messaged your boyfriend Joshua.

'Are you already asleep? :)'

Your job as an event planner assistant usually requires you to go in and out of the office to meet with clients. Traveling from place to place is nothing new to you. However, you were assigned to a big event in Busan, which is approximately 3-5 hours away from Seoul. Given that the client and the suppliers were mostly in Busan, the event team were to temporarily stay there.

It is your first big event since you started working. At the same time, it is also the first time you'll be in a sort of long distance relationship with Joshua. You're not sure if you were to be happy or sad about it.

At first, you were handling it quite well. The late night video calls after your busy days were enough to keep you from missing him. However, a month into that set-up, there were some nights you missed him so badly you cry after your late night calls.

And tonight was one of those nights.

As soon as you handed in your deliverable for the day, you immediately took a train back to Seoul. He would probably scold you for traveling after a tiring day but you really wanted to see him.

You wanted to be home.

The train finally reached your stop but Joshua hasn’t replied yet. He was probably asleep. Should you go home to your apartment tonight and just go to him early tomorrow? But the image of his confused sleepy face if you come knocking at his door this time of the night was pretty tempting.

You were walking out of the exit, contemplating whether to surprise him tonight or not when a figure stepped in front of you. You were about to move aside to give the stranger some room to walk to when the familiar whiff of perfume hit your nose. Immediately, you looked up and gasped.

“Hi?” Joshua grinned, probably enjoying your surprised expression.

Your tired mind was having a hard time catching up on what’s happening. You were supposed to surprise him in his apartment. He was supposed to be asleep. You were supposed to knock on his door and jump into his embrace as soon as he opened the door.

He wasn’t supposed to be standing in front of you, still in his office clothes at midnight, smiling down at you.

“Shua?” was the only word you said, still frozen in surprise.

“I was about to surprise you too,” he explained, still chuckling at your reaction. “But when I asked your workmates about where you’re staying and what time you’ll be out, they told me you’re headed here. So I just waited for you...”

You stared at him, still couldn’t believe that he’s in front of you. But when your gaze traveled from his face down to his hand which was holding a small bouquet of flowers, reality finally dawned on you. Your tears welled up. Your hands flew to cover your face that’s starting to get flooded by tears.

“You even have flowers,” you cried.

Joshua laughed as he pulled you into a tight embrace. He kissed the top of your head and gently rubbed your back. “I missed you so much,” he whispered.

You cried more as he enveloped you with warmth—both your tired body and your weary heart. Being in his arms felt like finally lying down on a soft bed after a long day. His gentle pats on your back felt like the encouragement you badly needed to go on. His little kisses on the top of your head felt like your favorite dream that you would always remember.

And when he pulled away, cradling your tear-stricken face in his hands, you couldn’t help but say, “I’m home...”

Joshua smiled, wiping your tears away. “I am, too.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fics #seventeen fanfics #svt imagines #svt joshua

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heich0e · 2 years

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JUST A TASTE - part two: sour miya atsumu/bartender!reader (haikyuu!) ao3 link word count: 2.3k tags: see series masterlist for more tags, enemies to customer service providers, f!reader, frequent mentions of alcohol, thinly-veiled miya twin jealousy.

japanese lemon sour: 1oz fresh lemon juice, 2oz shochu, club soda, ice. add lemon juice and sochu to ice. stir to combine. top with club soda.

Lunch, somewhat controversially, is your favourite meal of the day.

It’s just an underrated meal, in your opinion. Skipped often by those in the workforce, or relegated to a feed of a meagre collection of snacks or a small portion of whatever lacklustre leftovers remain from the evening meal from the night before. The midday meal is not bestowed with the same importance as the first of the day—the aptly named breaking of the overnight fast—nor is it anticipated or handled with the same extravagance of a dinner.

No one has lunch parties, after all—though you personally think they should.

Oftentimes, lunch is your first proper meal of the day. You’re not unfamiliar with sleeping through what would conventionally be considered breakfast hours thanks to working at a bar and not getting home until most people have long gone to bed. Most days you don’t even rise from your slumber until the rest of the city is already awake with their days well underway, and by the time noon comes around you’re lucky if you even have anything more than a few cups of coffee in your system.

More often than not, you arrive to the bar in the early afternoon. It gives you a good couple of hours ahead of the evening opening; leaving you time to take care of any menu planning for the coming weeks, contact suppliers, check inventory, and handle any prep behind the bar that needs to be done that hasn't already been handled by other barstaff.

It also means that you have time to stop and grab something to eat on your way to work.

The good thing about your place of employment's central location is that there’s a multitude of fantastic spots to grab food all within blocks. From cafes to ramen places, you’re never left hungry—and you make a point to try as many of the local restaurants as you can. Like a hobby, if feeding yourself can really be considered that.

This very hobby is how you find yourself wandering into a little onigiri joint—tucked down a narrow side street a few blocks away from the bar—in the early afternoon one Wednesday on your way to work. It’s unassuming on the outside, modest and understated compared to some of the flashier restaurants in the downtown core, and you must have walked past it 100 times before—but something about it makes you stop that day, and you find yourself stepping through the door without a second thought.

Your stomach is grumbling as you enter, the smell of fresh fish and hot rice greeting you, thanks to the fact that you only have one black coffee (you’d been out of milk that morning) in your belly since you’d tumbled out of bed an hour prior. You have a meeting with Shoji in 25 minutes to go over the updates being made to the wine list next week, and onigiri is a quick, easy choice since you can take it to go and munch on it as the two of you go through your usual paperwork and planning.

The little shop is busy but not excessively so, and you quickly make your way through the lineup towards the counter to place your order. You tap a message to Shoji asking if he wants you to pick him up a bite to eat while you wait.

“Next!”

You step forward, looking up from your cellphone, and find yourself blinking into the face of one Miya Atsumu.

Why the hell is he working at an onigiri shop?

Was he moonlighting to make ends meet, having perhaps accumulated significant debt from spending so much money bleaching his hair? Was this a passion project he took on during his free time to keep him humble? Court imposed community service? You even wonder distantly if maybe you’ve missed some catastrophic fall from grace. You haven't checked twitter in a few days—did the great wide world finally catch wind of some skeleton in his closet and cancel him? Was an exposé published by one of his (countless) jilted lovers?

The man peers back at you as you stare at him, the list of hypotheticals still ticking through your mind, looking mildly exasperated.

“Brother,” the young man before you says gruffly, as though he somehow already knows what you’re thinking as you regard him. The furrow in your brow eases slightly, morphing into an expression of more categorical confusion. He doesn't sound outrightly annoyed as he says it, but clearly it’s a question he has to field more than once a day, and has for all his life. “Twin brother.”

The pieces click into place.

“Oh. My condolences,” you mutter before you can stop yourself.

The ball-cap clad man’s eyes widen, and he barks out a laugh in the wake of your words—warm and sincere.

“Oh, you really know ‘Tsumu, dontcha?” he asks, dark grey eyes twinkling with a mischievous sort of delight that only makes him look even more like his bleached blonde brethren. He leans forward, hands braced against the counter, to get a closer look at you on the other side.

“Unfortunately yes,” you say with a nod, clearing your throat and making a point of actually putting in your order after having wasted so much of the poor guy’s time mistaking him for his unpleasant sibling.

He quickly sets to work packing up the onigiri you pick out from the display, though you notice him slip one more into the box than you’d requested as he goes.

“The extra one’s on me. An apology fer whatever my dumbass brother's put ya through,” the man says, holding the takeout bag with your purchase across the counter as you tuck your credit card back into your purse after paying. “Name’s Osamu, by the way.”

You find he’s surprisingly tolerable considering the boy he shares such an alarming amount of his DNA with.

You relay your own name back to him as you pluck the bag from his outstretched hand.

“Come back any time—if ya don’t mind havin’ to look at me, that is. Wouldn’t wantcha to think bad of the Miya name.”

“Yeah, I suppose that would be pretty bad for business.” You laugh, internally kicking yourself for not putting two and two together considering the shop is quite literally called Onigiri Miya if the logo printed on the bag, door, and even his hat is anything to go by.

Osamu sighs heavily, though you surmise that most of it is feigned. “Yeah, he’s a real PR nightmare, and costin’ me a fortune in free onigiri with all the hearts he breaks.”

You blink for a moment, the distant screech of dialup internet ringing in your ears as you process what he’s said, and then you laugh.

Loudly.

Osamu stares at you as you struggle to pull yourself together, an eyebrow raised in response to your unexpected outburst.

“Your stupid brother didn’t break my heart—he makes my life harder,” you say through your laughter, a hand resting propped on your hip. “I’m just a bartender at his favourite Friday night date spot.”

“Nah, not that swanky bar downtown he’s always goin’ on about?” Osamu asks with a brow still quirked.

You nod. “Have you ever been?”

Osamu clicks his tongue, smiling as he shakes his head. “Bit… ah, elevated fer my tastes. This is more my speed.” He gestures demonstratively around his quaint but happily bustling restaurant with a half-hearted sweep of his hand.

Your interaction has been brief, but Osamu seems down to earth and easy to get along with. He blends perfectly into the space he’s built for himself, so it isn’t very hard to see what he means. There’s something familiar and warm about him, even though you’ve only just met him—a far cry from the flashy, ostentatious nature of his unlikely twin.

“Well, if you ever do decide to stop by, you should come come to the bar to see me. I’ll pay you back for the free onigiri.” You raise your bagged lunch and wiggle it slightly.

The young man grins, tipping his head in a little nod, his branded baseball cap bobbing. “I might have to take ya up on that.”

You return his smile and say your goodbyes, heading back out into the afternoon sun with your bag of onigiri clutched tightly in-hand.

You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the onigiri are every bit as tasty as you’d hoped they’d be.

“I met your brother the other day,” you say a few nights later, straining the cocktail you’re preparing into a sparkling, perfectly polished highball glass.

It’s Friday night, the bar is bustling, and there’s a familiar figure draping himself across the counter in front of you as you work.

Eyebrows too dark for the peroxide blonde tone of the hair that accompanies them shoot up in surprise.

“Where’d ya meet that scrub?”

“At his shop,” you say, tipping a small bottle of aromatic bergamot bitters over the surface of the first drink on your workstation with a gentle, measured hand. “He was nice.”

“He’s a scrub.”

“So you’ve said.” You shoot him a huffy little look, setting to work on the second cocktail in the same way you had the first. “I happened to like him. Makes a good onigiri, too; I might have to go back again.”

“Don’t tell him that or it’ll go right to his fat head,” Atsumu grumbles, scrunching up his unfairly dainty nose.

You roll your eyes, biting back the comment that he ought to look in a mirror some time.

You keep working, mulling quietly over your next question for a moment, wiping your hands on the apron tied around your waist after returning the little bottle of bitters to its place on the counter.

“So, is he seeing anyone?” you voice the query nonchalantly, reaching for your bar spoon to twirl it through the cocktail, the metal tinkling gently against the edges of the glass. “Your brother, I mean.”

The resulting beat of silence is prolonged, and you look up to see Atsumu staring at you blankly.

“What?” you ask, slightly worried you may have crossed a line. He’s still a customer, after all, in spite of the strange relationship you’ve cultivated with him in the past few months. You’re about to try and smooth things over when Atsumu finally speaks again.

“Yer hot for ‘Samu?”

“He was nice,” you reply, fighting against a heat that threatens to creep up your neck and the sudden pressure in your throat, “and I think he was flirting with me.”

“He flirts with anything with a pulse,” the man in front of you offers flatly in response.

“You really are twins then, aren’t you?” you mutter dryly, garnishing the two waiting cocktails with thin slices of dried blood orange. The delicately desiccated rounds of citrus float prettily on the surface, the red-streaked flesh of the fruit bobbing atop the beverage.

“Do ya think he’s good lookin’?”

“He’s handsome enough.” You feel a little bit of the prickling heat you’ve been trying to ignore crawl further up your neck at his unexpected question—what’s it to him, anyway?

You ask him as much.

“Ya know we’re twins, right?”

“With very different personalities—that’s what counts.”

The ice shifts in the highball glasses in front of you, an audible little clink as the thick cubes settle further in the liquid, melting as they rest untouched.

“Your date is shooting a lot of weird looks this way, you probably shouldn’t keep her waiting,” you point out to Atsumu airily, having caught the girl he’d turned up with that evening sending more than a few furtive glances in the direction of the bar the longer he lingers there with you.

Atsumu sets his jaw, picking up the two drinks you slide across the counter towards him and stepping away. You watch the broad lines of his shoulders as he turns his back to you.

“Samu snores y’know,”—he spins around on his heel again, a little frown on his lips—“real loud too. And he chews with his mouth open.”

You tilt your head curiously.

“And he only drinks cheap beer,” Atsumu says, sniffing indignantly. He lifts the two glasses in his hands. “He’d hate these.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” you quip dryly, your hands settling on your hips.

He turns around again, the hard line of his jaw sharp, and starts making his way back to his table.

“Tell her this one comes from Italy. The man who made it named it after a woman who broke his heart—that’s why it finishes on a sour note.”

He grunts out some sort of recognition as he retreats, but doesn’t spare you another glance.

You watch from the corner of your peripheral as his date sips the drink he presents to her once he’s reclaimed his seat. Her eyes widen in delight at the taste, and he shifts a little closer—leaning in and whispering something to her as one of his fingers circles the rim of her glass. His other hand has disappeared under the table out of sight to rest somewhere you decide you’d rather not picture.

The woman softens slightly, eyes glued to Atsumu’s handsome face with a look that can be described as nothing short of enamoured.

He’s clearly relayed your trivial information to her.

You sigh, tapping the screen of your POS system and puling up the next drink order in the queue waiting for your attention.

You at least hope that he's gentle with this one when he doesn’t call her back next week.

#atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x you #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #haikyuu #atsumu fanfic #hq fanfic #hq writing #writing

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