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mandoalorian · 11 months

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Pairing: High honour Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Summary: When Arthur and the gang are out in Valentine, you can’t help but notice that he left his journal by his bedside, unattended. You’re aware that Arthur is never careless enough to leave something so valuable to him in camp and see you see it as an opportunity. Upon reading his journal, you discover something that changes everything…

Word count: 2,000

Author’s note: My first Arthur fic! It’s been a long time coming. This is also cross-posted on my AO3. I do not consent to my fics being posted anywhere else, or translated without permission. If you enjoyed this fic please reblog as it helps increase support!<3

Masterlist

You saw it as an opportunity.

Arthur, John, Micah, Javier and Sadie were out in Valentine, following Dutch’s well-convoluted plan to rob the local bank. They’d been gone for three hours already and with Micah part of the team, you dreaded to think how they were getting on. Dutch and Hosea had gone to scout out a manor northwest of Lemoyne, in Scarlet Meadows. Hosea was following a lead he’d heard from a guy at Emerald Ranch – that apparently, a well-off family were residing over there. An excellent opportunity for a cash grab, Dutch was also sure. Lately, any possibility of getting money, Dutch got excited over. You didn’t understand why because the ledger appeared more filled out than ever. Perhaps it was merely nothing more than a sin of greed, although you were in no position to question it.

Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen were doing laundry as Miss Grimshaw supervised, and Miss Molly O’Shea was napping in Dutch’s cot. She’d been sleeping a lot recently, you’d noticed. Uncle was nowhere in sight, probably sleeping or drunk or getting himself killed by Raiders. And Abigail was with Jack, nursing him back to health as influenza he’d developed after your time in Colter hadn’t yet subsided. The camp was empty. Not a soul in sight.

There was a small crate in the corner of his tent and organised neatly atop was a framed photo of his mother Beatrice, a small vase of flowers that were native to New Hanover, and a beat-up leather journal that he kept close to his bedside. Arthur was so protective of his journal, you’d often tease him for it. Sometimes, you’d admire him from afar. After a hard day, he’d often sit by the lake, slumped against a tree, jotting down his thoughts or filling the pages with doodles of his ventures.

And this time it was calling out to you.

You wondered why he hadn’t taken it with him. Had he really just ‘left’ it at camp? Forgot to put it in his satchel before he left this morning? You were hyper-aware that you’d more than likely never get this chance again. The curiosity was begging to be explored and you took one final glance around camp before slowly inching towards the crate by his bedside. Arthur’s tent was really just a canopy and once you were under you felt a pang of guilt in his heart. You shouldn’t be snooping around his business like this. He had done nothing to warrant you doing that.

It wasn’t malicious. It was harmless. Just a little peek…

You sat on the edge of Arthur’s cot and picked up the journal, feeling the worn leather between your fingers. Undoing the clasp, you pulled it open midway and were greeted with an illustration of a girl. It was the back of her, so there was no way of making out her face, but as you took a closer look at the pattern on her ranch boots, you couldn’t help but recognise the embroidered swirls and shapes. They were your ranch boots, and Arthur’s illustration was a depiction of you. It was dated noon, 5th July 1899, just a few weeks ago. It appeared to be a drawing from observation, and you were pictured helping Pearson put away an assortment of canned goods.

It took a moment for it to dawn on you. He’d drawn you.

Now you were invested. You turned to the next page to see a verse of words:

‘Sometimes I wonder when she sleeps

Is she ever dreaming of me?

Sometimes when I look into her eyes

I pretend she’s mine all the damn time’

To the left of the words was another illustration of you but this one had a lot more detail. A delicate flower was placed in your hair and this time, you could see your face. You could see the shape of your nose and the creases in the corner of your eyes when you smiled. It had never been so clear. Your gaze flicked back towards the words as you reread them over and over again. Could they have really been about you?

Surely not. Arthur had never done anything to suggest that he’d had these feelings for you. As far as you were aware, he was still hung up on Miss Mary Linton. You’d never met her before. You’d only heard tales from Hosea, how Arthur was sweet on her and she broke his heart to the point he didn’t want to leave camp for days. You couldn’t imagine Arthur that way. You supposed that since then, he had changed, and maybe since meeting you, he’d changed again.

On the outside, Arthur was rough. His skin was sun kissed and his clothes were old, his boots were muddy and he could go months without shaving. You’d heard stories of his questionable temperance but with you, he was patient and soft and gentle. You’d seen him be kind around little Jack too, and that relationship spoke volumes since John was mostly absent from his son’s life. Arthur was a good influence on Jack. Hell, you could argue he was the best influence around camp in general. Although he was often gloomy and he would, on occasion, pick fights with Micah or Bill, you saw through that. He had a good heart, wether he believed it, that didn’t matter.

A loud cough interrupted your thoughts. You froze, and it was like you could feel time moving. Arthur’s journal was still in your hands and you could feel the eyes of a cowboy bore into your back. You hoped and prayed it was anyone but Arthur. At least then you’d be able to potentially mangle yourself out of the fact you went behind your friend’s back. You wanted to put the journal down, hell, you needed to, but it was like your feet were glued to the ground and your hands were locked in place.

“What you doing snooping through my stuff, girl?”

Oh, it was Arthur. You winced under his question and took a deep breath. You carefully placed the journal back on his bedside, just as it was before you took it. Perfect. Like it hadn’t moved an inch. Not that it mattered anymore…

“Well?”

Fuck. You cursed under your breath. Say something. Anything.

“Arthur-I’m-so-sorry-I-don’t-know-what-I-was-thinking-I-just-saw-it-there-and-you-always-got-your-head-down-in-it-and-never-show-anyone-and-I-was-just-curious-and-I-know-it-was-wrong-but-I-just-“

“Now, why you talkin’ like that? Like I’m holdin’ you up at gunpoint? Turn around and look at me.” He cut you off, his question was rhetorical and his voice stern.

You immediately obliged and spun around on your heel. Your stomach was in knots. You wish you had never looked. Never betrayed him like this. Arthur’s eyes were a piercing blue like you’d never noticed, and his lips were curled into a frown. But still, he remained stoic. It’s like he was trying to appear unbothered, but you could see right through him.

“You know now why I let nobody look in here?” Arthur muttered, leaning over you and snatching the journal from his bedside.

You nodded apologetically and watched as he stuffed the journal into his satchel.

“I’ll be on my way now.” Arthur tipped his hat to you before turning around. He paused and when he was looking away he muttered, “’Am sorry if… you thought it was weird, miss…”

Your mouth felt dry as you watched him walk away.

Weird? He was worried that you thought it was weird.

You chased after him and caught up pretty quickly, placing the palm of your hand flat against the broadness of his back. “Arthur, what you wrote in there was the sweetest thing… not weird at all, I promise.”

Arthur stopped and looked down at you, still frowning.

“I just had no idea you felt that way,” You continued, shaking your head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I overstepped your boundaries and we can just forget about it if that’s what you want…”

To clarify, forgetting about it was the last thing you wanted to do, but alas, this wasn’t about you anymore. You would do anything for Arthur’s forgiveness and if that meant pretending like today never happened, then so be it.

“Forget?” Arthur whispered. “You really expect me to forget about this?”

You pursed your lips together, holding back a sigh. “I don’t think you should. I know I’d struggle to forget what I saw in there… but also, I don’t want to forget. I… I’ve been sweet on you since the moment I met you, Arthur. Tilly and Mary-Beth would always tease me for it. Abigail knew too, but she said you’d never be interested in pursuing someone in camp. Hosea made it seem like you were still hung up on Miss Linton, and so I never said anything. Oh Arthur, you’ve always been so kind to me. So gentle and soft, you’re different to the others…” You placed a hand on his bicep and Arthur practically softened into your touch.

“I’m a bad man,” Arthur shook his head gruffly. “I’ve done bad things.”

“Haven’t we all?” you snapped back, exasperated. “I may just do the chores around camp but you forget my history, Mr Morgan. All of us are Van Der Linde’s and we are not good people. Hell, I struggle to even tell the difference between good and bad anymore. But when I’m with you, I feel good. Really good. I feel safe and protected and God, Arthur. When I saw you felt the same way… that you think about me in the same way…”

Arthur cut you off with a kiss. His lips were soft and plump and contrasted with the roughness of his stubble and quick-growing moustache. You let out a small gasp when his lips crashed atop yours but quickly melted into it, bringing your hands up to his head and running your fingers through his dark blonde hair. His tongue tasted like fresh mint and other herbs you couldn’t quite recognise, and you had never been closer to his musky familiar scent. Arthur’s big arms wrapped around your body and he held you tight against him. When he finally pulled away, he nudged his nose against yours and lingered for a moment, staring into your eyes.

“Forgive me for saying miss, but if it wasn’t already clear, I think I’m in love with you.”

The revelation made you giddy, your heart racing in your chest with the thrill of it all. You couldn’t believe it. Abigail…. Hosea…. They were all wrong. Arthur actually felt the same as you.

“I’m in love with you too,” you squeaked, tears filling your eyes as Arthur enveloped you in a hug.

When you finally pulled away from him, it was only to ask him another important question.

“Do you forgive me for what I did, Arthur?” you asked him sadly. Arthur could see the guilt; it was written all over your face.

“If you didn’t do that, none of this would have ever happened,” Arthur smiled, pressing his index finger to your chin and picking your face up so you were looking at him in the eyes. He was smiling. He was okay…

“I s’pose that’s true,” you shrugged. “I’m still sorry, and it won’t happen again.”

“I believe you,” Arthur said, lacing his fingers with yours. “Now let’s go grab some of Pearson’s broth and we can take it to the lake. I think we have a lot to talk about…”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up. You and Arthur walked side by side to the campfire and the entire way you felt yourself bubbling with anticipation over what was to come next.

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x you #red dead redemption #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #Arthur Morgan fanfic #John martson #dutch van der linde

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trigun-manga-overhaul · 8 months

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TRIGUN VOLUME 01 JAPANESE - Scans.

We're happy to announce: the entire Trigun Vol 1 in the original Japanese version! This means it's the dialogue as written by Yasuhiro Nightow. We've only done cleaning work to remove any damage done to the pages through wear and tear, literally, and then some minor editing for chapter and page numbering.

This is also the quality you can expect from the 2.0 translation release, as this is what we will refer to as 2.0 in terms of the scans. We hope you enjoy the scans and their resolutions, and as always, everyone's free to make edits and art with our scans as long as they leave credit.

Please do not openly share this post on X (Twitter), instead share it with people through private accounts or in DMs. We hope to stay a little bit under the radar with the Japanese releases to avoid trouble. If we believe trouble might be brewing, we'll be deleting the post again, so remember to save the files if you can so you have them forever.

Please support the original creator however you can!

Download the entire volume here.

Read the chapters online here:

Chapter 00: High Noon at July

Chapter 01: 600億$$の男

Chapter 02: Looney Tunes

Chapter 03: ハード・パンチャー

Chapter 04: ポポ

Chapter 05: 強襲

Chapter 06: Die Hards

Chapter 07: レム

Chapter 08: デュエリスト

Chapter 09: そして荒野と空の間��

Chapter 10: リトル・アルカディア

Chapter 11: 息子

Chapter 12: 命の川

Donate to the Overhaul Project here!

#trigun #trigun maximum #trimax #trigun manga #manga #fan project #trigun overhaul #trigun ultimate #trigun ultimate overhaul #japanese release

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rebeliz7 · 9 months

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AUGUST - PART ONE

August 1/3

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: Pinning - Cheating

Special thanks to Van (aka @missmonsters2) for helping me by editing this, all 3 chapters.

…

July, 27th

A high-rank order arrives at the Tower early in the morning, which is code for the White House, which is code for 'you're not directly involved.'

You understand the hierarchy of the job, and you accept it. The only Avengers who are allowed to communicate with the President are Steve and Natasha, even if the rest of you provide backup if needed.

The missions from the Oval office are usually dangerous and, more often than not, quite complicated. A part of you is a little relieved that you get to stay at home and 'hold the fort,’ while Steve and Natasha have to pack their bags to go somewhere that you're not allowed to know.

Steve hugs you goodbye, and you melt in his arms, if only for a second. He's your boss, technically, but he's also the closest thing you have to family, and although you're not ready to say it out loud, you care about him.

"We'll be back before you know it. Try not to give Tony an aneurysm." He laughs, and you push him towards the jet in jest.

"He and I have our own thing going on, don't be jealous." You smile back, and the look in his eyes almost makes you run back into his arms, but he nods his head once in your direction, and then he's walking towards the jet.

As if things couldn't get any worse for you, you have to watch Wanda kiss her wife goodbye too. You look away quickly, not wanting to have that image engraved in your mind.

What you feel for Wanda is - complicated. You think she knows, but she's also a married woman, and neither one of you will ever acknowledge whatever it is that you feel because everyone knows that she's head over heels for Natasha.

"Hey, you don't have to worry." Natasha's voice pulls you back, and you realize that Wanda is saying goodbye to Steve by the jet now. "I have his back."

"I know," you say, and Natasha takes your hand.

"I know you don't like this any more than we do," she says, and you swallow with difficulty. They have a mission, and you accept it. There's nothing you can do to stop them from going. You know what this job entails.

What's eating at you is the fact that this might be very well goodbye for good, and none of you know it.

The thought always passes your mind whenever one of you leaves on a new mission.

"We'll be back before you know it." She winks at you, and you smile back; she's your oldest friend, and you've never said it out loud either, but you care for her—deeply.

"Take care out there," you tell her out of habit.

"We will. Take care of her for me, would you?" She looks back at her wife, and you look at Wanda hugging Steve. "She might worry."

"I've got her."

"Pay close attention to Daisy. She shows promise."

"I've noticed, and I will."

…

July, 28th

The world seems at peace. There are no trying thugs with supernatural abilities on the streets, no arms dealers selling guns to maniacs. The Avengers are not needed, and when noon comes around, you realize that this could very well be your first day off at the Compound.

Things have been a bit hectic since you joined the infamous team of heroes a couple of years ago, and for the life of you, you can't remember a single day off since the day you joined.

Before Natasha practically dragged you into this Compound, your life was not a peaceful one, and you've never had a full day to yourself, but that changes today.

Today you stay on your floor and order pizza for lunch, and you sit through an entire season of Modern Family on Netflix while you finish the beers on your fridge.

When the sun finally goes down, you notice how tired you are of not doing anything, but you're smiling, and this has officially been your day, only yours, and you'll always remember that.

July 28th, you will always remember this day.

…

July, 31st

Tony is worried, and Wanda is pacing the meeting lounge.

Natasha sent in an encrypted message a few minutes ago. Their mission got a lot more complicated than they were expecting, not that it surprises you.

They'll have to be away for longer than they originally planned.

"Can you reach them?" Tony asks you, and Wanda turns to look at you with hope in her eyes.

Natasha sent the message through a radio line only you know of, she wanted it to be a one-way type of message, and you know she'd check but only to make sure that you didn't answer.

"Well, yeah but -"

"Nat wouldn't want that," Wanda says, and you watch her take in a deep breath as if to gather herself. You can practically smell her worry by now.

"You don't look worried, or surprised." Tony assesses you, and you shrug lightly.

"Don't you watch the news, grandpa?" You ask him in jest, and he rolls his eyes at you. "The President is not very subtle about the places he decides to bomb. Nat and Steve are probably behind a defector, who must be surrounded by security detail 24/7."

"How do you know all this?" Wanda asks, and you shrug lightly again before sitting on the table.

"I don't. I'm just taking a wild guess here. The order came from the White House, right?"

"It sounds like something that Stark Satellites could have helped with," Tony mutters, completely blindsided by your question.

"Don't be like that, Starboy." You smile when he glares at you. "Your satellites leave traces behind."

They both take a moment to think about what you just said, and you remain quiet while they process.

Once they do, Wanda goes back to pacing, although slower than before, and when she meets your stare, you smile at her, however small. You told Natasha you'd look out for her, and you don't know exactly how to do that.

"How long do you think they'll be gone?" She asks you. "Are they safe? Why would the President send them in for this?"

"I'm just taking a guess here, but if this is actually what's happening then it could take a month or two."

"Two months?" Tony asks.

"Well, they'll have to blend in and Natasha won't take any chances. Meaning, she'll go all out. Surveillance, tracking, making contact, studying the perimeter, making contact again, befriending someone on the inside, befriending a lot of people on the outside, looking for alternatives, setting up a trap in case they have to resort to it, plan for escape routes. Several escape routes."

"Sounds easy," Tony says with his usual bite, and you sigh as Wanda takes a deep breath.

"Hey." You call her, and she looks at you with worry etched on her face. "Natasha is the person for a job like that, and I'm just taking a wild guess here."

"You were right the last time." She points out.

"A Governor got killed and it was all over the news. That one was easy to guess." You smile until she shakes her head and lets out a breath.

"If anyone can handle something like this, it’s Natasha," Tony says. "She'll bring back Rogers. He's lucky she's with him."

"That, he is."

…

August, 1st

Sam and Bucky arrive from their mission early in the morning. They've been gone for almost an entire month, and by the sore look on Bucky's face, they don't come with good news.

Blake continues to slip through their fingers, and Bucky continues to shut you down when you try to lend a hand. Blake, a Russian lowlife that tortured Bucky on more than one occasion under Hydra's command, has proven himself a hard one to catch.

You get it, you understand why Bucky wants to be the one who catches him, but it's obvious that the guy knows Bucky well enough to always keep himself one step ahead of him. You'd know.

You leave the debriefing room when Sam and Bucky begin bickering, knowing that they won't stop for a while. They're an odd pair, but they get each other.

You go about your day with as much normalcy as if the Captain and Natasha were here. You run the drills for the new recruits, and you pay special attention to the girl Natasha believes has the potential to be something more. You make sure to run her a bit harder than the rest, just like Natasha has been doing.

You have to agree with her; Daisy does seem like the kind of girl that belongs in the field.

You check in with Rhodey and make a round of calls to the Agents around the US. Things are calm, which means someone is cooking something big, and logically, everyone is beginning to go nuts.

You go about your day. Whatever comes your way, you'll deal with it when it gets here. There's no point in worrying about things that are not in your control.

"Want some?" Wanda asks when you enter the kitchen, and she's serving sauce on top of pasta on a plate. You were coming to fix yourself something as well, but the moment you smell the air, a smile forms on your face.

"Is this your famous pasta and sauce I'm smelling?" You ask back as you hand her another plate, and she smiles.

"You guys are easy to please," she says as she puts the sauce on top of the pasta, and you get a whiff of the delicious aroma of her cooking up close, and you moan to yourself.

"Or maybe you're just an amazing cook," you tell her, and her smile turns a bit bashful.

You take the two plates to the table as she picks up a bottle of red wine and two glasses from the shelf.

It's been a few days, and you haven't exactly kept an eye on her like Natasha asked you to do when she left, but Wanda seems perfectly fine. You caught sight of her in the morning as she tried to go about her day with as much normalcy as you were.

If it were a regular mission, everyone would still be tense, but it'll be 'normal.' The job comes with high-level risks, and you all live in danger on a daily basis, even now while you sit across from Wanda, the both of you aren't completely safe.

A mission from the White House means there are no official records because that's why their preferred agent to go to is Natasha, and you all know what that entails if things were to go south.

She was a KGB Agent. She was an enemy of the state long before she was an ally, the Black Widow can always turn the tables, or at least that's the narrative the President would use if it came down to it.

As it is, though, Rhodey was anxious when you talked to him earlier. His tone clipped in every word that he spoke. There's no doubt that he knows exactly the nature of the mission, but you know better than to ask questions that won't be answered.

Sam and Bucky are doing exactly what they do when they're worried, which is to retreat to their military ways. Sam took over you in the drills, and Bucky oversaw the sparring exercises with the rest of the recruits.

Tony has been locked in his lab since Nat and Steve left, only coming out for food and attending the necessary meetings, nothing more. Wanda cooks, she cooks a lot when she doesn't know what else to do, and you're trying to keep on going as normal as you can.

"Be honest with me," she says as you pick up a fork and she pours the wine in the glasses, and you look up to see her face. "You think they're alright?"

The moment her eyes meet yours, you remember the exact reason why you make a habit out of avoiding spending too much time with her. It's unfair, really, the power she holds over you without even knowing.

"You worry too much." You deflect as you take your glass and sip the wine.

"That's what she always says." She frowns, and suddenly, the mouthwatering smell of her cooking doesn't seem so appetizing anymore.

"We would know if things went wrong. Isn't that the whole point of sending them both in? The russian spy and the golden boy aren't exactly subtle news."

She purses her lips in anger at your Government and how manipulative they are, but the worrisome in her eyes is undeniable.

"You asked me to be honest."

"I did." Her accent comes out sounding harsh and cutting in her bothered state, and an idea occurs to you.

"Look, I know I can't ask you not to worry or even lie to you and say that things will be alright because that's a prayer more than a fact in our line of work. But I can be here with you, and I can try to keep your mind off of it if you'd like."

She looks at you as if analyzing you and you let her even though her eyes are made of the most beautiful color, and you're positively distracted by her whole face.

"She asked you to look out for me, didn't she?" She asks, and you smile, although the color of her eyes continues to distract you.

"Can you blame her? You really do worry too much."

"And you don't seem to worry at all."

Her words catch you by surprise, although her tone remains kind when she speaks, meaning she's only curious and not upset, at least not with you.

"What's the point in worrying about something that you can't control?" You counter her question with one of your own, and she looks away, finally picking up her glass of wine, drinking a generous sip from it before meeting your stare again.

"What's the point in deed? Let's eat, this sauce is no good cold."

Her cooking is, as always, splendid, and you spend the rest of dinner talking about your inability to boil water.

By the time you're picking up the dishes, you realize that you're having fun, and conversation with Wanda is not as terrifying as you once thought it could be.

…

August 2nd

You wake up to find Fury sitting on the small couch you keep in your room, and you almost have a heart attack.

"You sleep like a baby," he says. "Like a drugged baby."

"You have a mission for me? Please, tell me there's a mission and you weren't just being a creep."

"There's a mission," he says as he hands you a black folder. You take the folder from his hand as you sit upon your bed and rub the sleep off your face.

"Son of a bitch." You gasp the moment you see the first page.

Hudson, Fury found Hudson.

"I thought you'd like that," he says as he stands up. "Just wanted to see the look on your face when you saw it."

"I'm running this." You tell him, and it's not a question, but he still nods as you stand up as well.

"Of course you are. You thought I was just gonna come here and give you that folder for nothing? Come on! You have ten minutes to prep."

Ten minutes later, you're geared up and ready to go, and Fury is waiting for you in the hanger next to Bucky and Wanda.

"We need him alive," Fury says the moment you're close enough, and you're already nodding. "This is no joke. The only reason why I'm giving you this is because I'm a man of my word."

"I know." You nod again, and he pins you down with a hard glare.

"Alive." He enunciates right in your face, and you roll your eyes. "However, you use whatever means to capture him. What happens in the field -"

"- stays in the field." The three of you finish for him, and he hums to himself, all the while pinning you with a glare.

"We got this," you tell him as Bucky boards the jet, and Wanda laughs to herself as she follows him.

"You better." Fury declares, and with that, you follow your teammates.

…

Hudson has slipped through your fingers more times than you're willing to admit out loud at this point, so you keep that to yourself as you explain to Bucky and Wanda who Hudson is.

"So he's your friend?" Wanda asks, and you're tempted to groan, but the confused look on her face is way too much for you to handle, so you look away quickly.

"Was. He was my friend." You correct her, and they're not subtle at all when they exchange a look.

"Spill," Bucky says.

"I just did. He and I were partners, he abandoned me when we retrieved an expensive object from the Caribians and I haven't seen him since."

"I get the feeling that you're oversimplifying things for us," Wanda says, and her accent makes you want to smile. It doesn't come out that often anymore, but it leaves you feeling like this when it does.

You can't like her accent this much; it's unhealthy.

"I trusted the guy." You admit without looking at either one of them. "I trusted him and he left me in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by enemies because of money."

"Wait," Bucky says, but you don't look at him. "Hudson. Australian accent? About five four, brunette? Ridiculously bad at poker?"

"You know him." You look at him, and Bucky huffs a smile as he continues to pilot the jet.

"He sold Hydra a fake relique back in the day. He's slippery."

"I'd know." You stand up as Bucky closes in on the location, and Wanda follows your lead.

…

You find him exactly where Fury told you he'd be, which tells you all you need to know.

He's nursing a drink at a small bar in the outskirts of Alabama, and although your first instinct is to smash his face against the wooden counter, you sit by his side and order a local beer.

"What took you so long?" He asks in that characteristic way of his, flashing you a smile and a wink that would be charming if you didn't know the guy as well as you do.

"I never thought I'd see the day where you were asking for help." You thank the bartender when he comes back with your beer and Hudson's smile wavers.

Bucky confirms the presence of a third party through your coms, and you're not surprised. You saw at least five armed men when you walked inside, and Hudson's knee continues to shake.

"Yeah, well." He says as he downs his drink, and sweat drips down the side of his face. "I don't want to die. Fury was the last resource. I'm ready for you to take me in."

Son a bitch, you think. This clever son of a bitch.

"Who are they?" You ask him just as you hear a gunshot in the street, and he jumps behind the bar.

Chaos erupts inside the bar when you jump behind him and grab hold of his jacket just when he's about to sprint for the back door.

Bucky and Wanda are already engaging, and when you hear the word Hydra your entire body runs cold.

"This is Hydra?" You ask him, and when he takes a little too long in nodding, you punch him in the face hard enough to knock him out on the spot.

Every single one of you has a history with Hydra, and Fury knows that.

You can hear Bucky cursing and Wanda's grunts as they fight outside while you make sure that Hudson doesn't escape. You drag his heavy ass into a closet, and there you shoot him with a sedative before you run outside to help your team.

It's absolute chaos. God, you hate Hydra.

You spot seven men to your left the moment you step outside, and you roll on the ground to get close to a parked car for cover. They all shoot at you, but you make quick work of them.

Bucky is fighting too, but you catch sight of Wanda in the air; more specifically, you catch the exact moment they hit her with some sort of energy weapon to take her down.

She loses her balance, but she doesn't crash like they were probably expecting her to. No, she turns her attention to the jet that shot her, and then she buries that jet on the ground with a single movement of her hands.

You smile to yourself, feeling oddly proud of her, but you don't lose focus. You're still surrounded by enemies, and you make sure to keep shooting while keeping your teammates in your peripheral.

What did Hudson do? What did he steal, and who did he sell it to?

"Let me guess," Bucky says as he walks tiredly towards you. He sounds breathless, and his cheek has an inch-long tear, which does nothing to minimize the pissed-off look on his face. "We're his extraction, aren't we?"

"You can yell at Fury for that when we get back," you tell him, and you turn to shoot a few remaining Hydra agents when you see them pointing at Wanda, not at you. Bucky is once again fighting off two guys off of him.

She has her back to you, and you run towards her. No, you think, not her.

You take down four out of the five men going for her, but you run out of ammo. She's working on taking down the last jet, and they're not making it easy at all. They're shooting her with everything they have, and so is the guy to your right.

You sprint just as the jet she's fighting collapses and explodes in a cloud of smoke, dirt, and fire.

She turns when you're only a couple of feet away, and the bullet hits your shoulder just as her eyes meet yours.

Her eyes widen as you listen to the unmistakable sound of Bucky's arm when he punches someone. You fall into Wanda's arms, and Bucky rushes to your side.

"Why - why would you do that?" Wanda asks as she kneels on the ground with you in her arms. "Oh my God. Why would you do that?"

"We need to go." Bucky runs back into the bar to bring out Hudson, and you can't look away from Wanda's terrified expression.

"Why would you do that?" She asks as tears gather in her eyes, and you try to ignore the pain and the blood on her hands.

"You know why."

…

August, 3rd

Doctor Woo is a miracle worker. When you emerge from her regenerative chamber, you feel as if you were never shot in the first place.

"I can't even feel where the wound should be," you tell her in wonder.

"That's because there's not a wound anymore," she tells you with a grin as you walk backwards towards the wall mirror, trying to get a good look at your shoulder blade.

"You're amazing," you sincerely tell her, and she takes the compliment with a subtle nod of her head.

"Thank you. Now, let's go over a few exercises."

You follow her instructions and stretch, bend and shake your arm at her command until she's satisfied with her own work.

…

Fury doesn't apologize, and you don't mind. He's the boss, well, your boss's boss, and you're here to do a job.

He gave you his word a while ago that he'd let you know the moment Hudson showed up, and he delivered. Hudson is behind bars, and you were the only one injured in the mission.

Bucky doesn't have the same perspective that you do, he gives Fury a piece of his mind, and Wanda's eyes turn red in anger, but Fury walks out in one piece.

"You got shot, how could you just sit there and say nothing?" Tony asks you from the other side of the table, and everyone else turns their attention to you.

"What's the point in dueling with things that already happened?" You retort, as you always do. "I'm fine now and Hudson was brought in. The mission was a success."

"And nothing else matters in your book, does it?" He bites out.

"Nothing else should. I'm here to do my job and I know what I signed up for. If I wanted a desk job I'd get one, but I'm here."

"We were ambushed." Wanda reminds you, but you can't look at her, not after what you said - or did. "He should have sent us in there with a lot more back up and you just don't care."

"I care," you tell her as you look up at her. There's a nasty bruise on her jaw that you didn't notice before, and you wonder who got close enough to touch her. "But we're here and we're fine. Next time we do a double check before trusting Fury's whole intel."

"You don't get it," Wanda says, shaking her head. "We need to look out for one another. This isn't just a job for us, and it's time you start to realize that this is not just a work team because you're part of it now."

Bucky points at Wanda, agreeing with her as he continues to glare at you.

You stay in your seat long after they're gone, thinking about Wanda's words and what they mean.

…

August, 4th

Fury takes Hudson away, and none of you have a say in the matter. He's still the master spy, the only one with the A's under his sleeve and then his other sleeve under that one.

You're not exactly new to the team, but you still struggle with the concept of seeing it as anything more than a team.

You have to keep your head above water, always. Nothing lasts forever. You learned all that the hard way.

You stay out of everyone's way, and the day drags on, but eventually, you're back in your room at the end of it.

…

August, 5th

You're on your way out of the Compound when you walk by her office, and you catch sight of her because her door is wide open. She doesn't make a habit of closing her office door, you've noticed.

You shouldn't stop, the wisest thing for you to do is keep walking, but you turn around and knock softly on her door anyway. She looks up from her laptop, and her eyes are suddenly on you…

...you swallow as you lean casually on her door frame.

"Hey," you say, and she raises a single eyebrow at you.

"You going out?" She points at the car keys in your hands, and you jingle them before clearing your throat.

"Yeah, I am. There's a whole world outside of this place, you've noticed?" She smiles, and you look down.

Ridiculous, you think to yourself. You're ridiculous and a mess when you're alone with her.

"And a lot of people have opinions too. Keep an eye out for those," she says, and you sigh.

"Not everyone likes us, I'm okay with that." You shrug as she stands up, and you swallow with difficulty again because the way she looks steals your breath away - in a sense.

Not that she's wearing anything particularly grand, but tight jeans and knee-high boots make her look -to put it simply- incredible. Not that you're objectifying her but God!

"It's more than people just not liking us," she says as she runs a hand through her hair and pushes it back. "Maybe you just shouldn't go out alone."

"You worried about me?" You ask her, and you watch her cross her arms, her yellow cashmere sweater hugging her hips as she stretches it.

"I think. You're kind of growing on me." She scrunches up her nose with her admission, and if you weren't a goner before, you think you definitely are now.

"And it only took you a year and a half to get there," you tell her, and she laughs, and your stomach feels weird, and you feel like you can't breathe and - it's not fair. It's not fair at all.

She's married, you remind yourself. She's off-limits and way out of your league.

"Anyway," she says as she takes a deep breath and sinks her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. "Be careful if you go out. I was gonna watch a movie, you can join me if you decide to stay."

…

It's not even a question anymore, she said the words, and you knew you weren't going anywhere.

"Oh my god!" You exclaim when you taste the popcorn, she made before you two settled in the movie room.

"You like?" She asks with a shit-eating grin that you can't ignore.

"Like? This popcorn is my new religion. Wanda, this is delicious."

"Like I said, easy to please." She pops one in her mouth with a self-satisfied smile, and you - you must be a masochist to be here.

"I'm serious. What did you put in it?" You pick one popcorn to examine, but it looks just like a regular one.

"I'm not telling you my secrets," she says with a delicate laugh, and you laugh with her.

"Is it butter?" You ask, and she huffs and rolls her eyes playfully.

"You offend me." She teases you.

"It's some kind of seasoning, isn't it?" You ask, and she hums as she picks one movie on Netflix and presses play.

"You've watched this?" She asks, and you catch the name of the movie on the screen as you chew slowly.

"I haven't. Is it rosemary?"

"No, it's not. You haven't watched Mean Girls?"

"I really really haven't. Is it butter? It has to be butter."

"You already asked that. You're gonna love this movie."

"Come on." You nudge her with your shoulder, and she tries to ignore you. "If you don't tell me I'm gonna assume it's butter."

"It's not," she tells you with a laugh, and your stomach does that thing it always does when she smiles, making you feel warm from the inside out.

"It's delicious," you tell her again, and she makes a show to pop one into her mouth.

"I know," she says with fake innocence, and you don't know what it is exactly, but you have to hold back from kissing her.

It's torture, and it's not fair. This is exactly why you usually make a point to stay out of her hair. You two click, and it's easy to spend time together, which is why you developed this crush on her in the first place a while ago.

It's been months since the two of you hung like this, and it's easy when Natasha is home.

"Thank you," she says out of the blue, and you frown, too preoccupied with the shape of her lips before you look into her eyes.

"What?" You ask, and she takes your hand, and you realize that you're sitting much closer than you thought you were. "What did I do?"

Her hand is cold and much softer than you've ever dared to imagine, and you think that if she were yours, you'd never need anything more.

"You took a bullet for me," she says, and the memory of that exchange comes back at you fully. "Thank you. I mean it."

"Of course." You shrug, and she squeezes your hand before letting it go.

"No one has ever done that for me," she says as an afterthought, and you're caught staring at her profile.

"I'd take a bullet for you anytime." The line is cheesy, and she smiles, and you blush.

"Anytime?" She teases you as you laugh at your own embarrassment.

But her eyes pull you in, and you have to swallow all the things that you wish you could say out loud.

Yes, you conclude, you're a masochist. She's a hammer, and you just love the way she hurts.

"If it means you're safe? Yes, anytime."

There's a moment, or you think there's a moment when she seems to be about to say something back, but she swallows her words instead.

You end up watching the movie in silence, both sitting on opposite sides of the couch and the bowl of popcorn forgotten in the middle.

…

August 6th

You're in the middle of your usual workout when Wanda walks inside the gym accompanied by Daisy, both looking ready to work out.

"Wow, you're here." Daisy smiles when she sees you, and you pick up your towel from the bench as you sit up. You were just finishing your abs routine anyway. "Abs." She adds, motioning to all of you, and you find yourself smiling as you press the towel to the back of your neck.

"Sorry, I'm not usually this awkward. I promise." She rushes to explain.

"I'll take your word on that." You smile, and she blushes, visibly so. When you look at Wanda, she's staring at Daisy with a subtle frown on her forehead.

"I'm supposed to train in here today," Daisy says conversationally, and Wanda finally looks over to you.

She has her arms crossed over her chest, and you catch her working her jaw as if she were bothered.

"Natasha left instructions," she says, and her accent is very prominent when she speaks. You know she slips on her accent only when she's feeling emotional, and you instantly feel bad.

You have to stop saying things that make her uncomfortable. She's married, and you can't just go about telling her how you'd take a bullet for her again.

"Wanna spar with me?" Daisy asks you, and the smile on her face is a little contagious, so you have no trouble returning it.

"Let's do it." You motion for her to follow you to the mats, all the while trying not to look directly at Wanda.

This is exactly why you kept your distance for a long while. When you're alone with her, you can't help yourself, and you always end up saying stupid things that make her uncomfortable and that are way out of line.

You take off your shoes and work on stretching your neck and shoulders before you turn around to meet your sparring partner, but Daisy is sitting on the bench, and Wanda is waiting for you on the other end of the mats.

You swallow with difficulty but walk towards the center to meet her halfway anyway.

"Intimidated already?" You ask Daisy. She bites her lower lip as she shakes her head, not giving anything away.

"She can watch for now," Wanda says, her voice making you look at her instantly.

Should you apologize? That'd be even more uncomfortable for the both of you, wouldn't it?

Before you can say anything, she comes at you, throwing a punch that you barely avoid. You look at her in surprise, and she cocks her head to the side, a smug grin appearing on her lips as she challenges you.

It's been months since the last time you two spar together. You're practically strangers, and you're not sure of what to expect from her.

You round her, observing her fighting stance, which is much more confident than it used to be. When she comes for you again, you're ready, and it's not difficult to avoid her attacks when you're focused.

You block her punches and roll backward away from her kicks, but you don't attack her just yet. She's relentless, though, and soon she grows irritated, and you only know it because of the crinkle that appears in her forehead without her consent.

"Really?" She asks, annoyed when you once again roll away from her without doing anything to defend yourself.

"Someone's been practicing," you tell her, and she breaks from her stance to look at you dead in the eyes.

"My wife insists I do," she says, and there's something in the way she says it. My wife, as if she knows with certainty what she's doing to you.

"Your wife's taught you well," you tell her, and for a moment alone, she seems to be glaring at you.

You don't know what's happening, but the next time she attacks you, you tackle her to the ground. She gasps when her back hits the mats, the air leaving her lungs as she looks up at you in surprise.

"There are a few things you still need to learn though." She's breathing hard, her glare making you want to flinch back where you're standing.

You leave the gym without looking back, and it's only when you get to your room that you realize how badly you're shaking.

Of course, she knows; you practically told her you'd die for her last night. What the hell were you thinking?

…

August 7th

"I don't want to be alone," she says the moment you open your door.

It's four am, and when someone knocked on your door, you never thought it'd be her.

"Did something happen?" You ask as you rub the sleep off your eyes, and she walks inside your bedroom without waiting for an invitation.

"I just -" She says as you turn to look at her, but she doesn't finish her sentence.

"You okay?" You ask her because she seems nervous, as if on the edge of panic, and you don't know what to do.

"I'm fine." She closes her eyes in frustration, and you watch as she licks her lips, and shakes her head, and doesn't seem to get her ideas straight enough to tell you what she's doing in your bedroom at four am.

"You sure you're fine?" You ask her, and, taking a deep breath, she looks at you.

"I know why you avoid me so much," she says, and you swallow with difficulty.

Your back stiffens as if a bucket of ice-cold water just fell on you, and you can't look away from her eyes.

"Of course you do." You clear your throat, refusing to overthink this. "I think I told you myself last night."

"Well, that and the little fact that you took a bullet for me." The sound of her voice is meant to be light, you can see her trying, but nothing about this is light or easy for you either way.

She's a married woman, and you've seen her and Natasha together, and you know that nothing can ever get in between them. Not that you want to either, you'd rather see her happy from the outside than hurt her in any way.

Love like that, like the one they share, is so rare to see, let alone easy to find.

"Look, Wanda -"

"I like you." She cuts you off, and the revelation should make you elated, but it only serves to confuse you.

"You like me." You say the words out loud, and your stomach flutters against your better judgment. "You like me?"

"I know I shouldn't and I know it's wrong." She rushes to explain. "I shouldn't have said anything."

She's panicking, and your brain is not catching up fast enough. She's about to cry, and she's about to run out when you finally react and close your door before she can make a run for it.

"Hold on." You ask her with a gentle hand on her arm. "It's okay."

She looks troubled as if confessing this has to mean something, and you know well that it doesn't. The last thing you ever want to do is get in between her marriage, and liking isn't feelings; liking is easy to get over.

"Is it?" She asks you, her eyes locking you in, and you'd be lying if you said that you weren't dying to kiss her but -

"It is." You assure her with a smile that you hope is calming. "Look, we're attractive. Attraction happens, it's human but it doesn't have to mean anything."

For a moment, your words hang in the air, and then she chuckles, and you can breathe easily again. As stupid as that was to say you accomplished what you wanted, she's laughing, and things are not yet awkward.

"You know," she says, and when she licks her lips again, you can't help but feel thirsty, and you know how absolutely ridiculous that sounds in your own head. "That actually helps. You're right."

"So you're good now?" You ask her with a smile, still trying to get past this. "You're not freaking out anymore?"

"Stop that," she says, but the smile on her lips is gorgeous, and you know you want nothing more out of life. "I wasn't freaking out. Maybe a little. I'm fine now."

"That's good." You nod while you hold her stare, and while her eyes flicker, she licks her lips, and you know there's something else she wants to say.

"I'm gonna go," she says with the enthusiasm of someone who definitely wants to stay.

"Okay." You nod, but she doesn't move, and neither do you.

You want, and you want, and the way she looks at you makes you believe that maybe she wants the same thing.

"I was jealous," she says out of the blue, and you frown in confusion.

"What?"

"Daisy likes you and she's not subtle at all, and I was jealous. I have no right to be, I know, but I was jealous because she didn't have to hide it."

She leaves, and you stand exactly where she left you for a long while, not being able to move or think past her last sentences.

You can't sleep after she leaves, and you don't see her at all for the rest of the day.

…

August 8th

Entering Tony's lab, you realize that you aren't the only one he called in here.

"Have you ever heard of the word punctuality?" He asks you, and you head right over to him to plant a loud kiss on his cheek.

"You need to shave," you tell him, and you can hear Sam softly laughing.

"You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago," Tony says, completely ignoring your suggestion as you move closer to the small lounge area he has in his lab.

"I was in the gym when your text came in. I wasn't gonna come in all sweaty and gross."

"What's wrong with being sweaty and gross?" Bucky asks as he walks in too.

"Have you ever heard of the word punctuality?" Tony asks him, and you and Sam laugh out loud, while Bucky just shrugs, offering no excuse whatsoever.

"What's this all about anyway?" Sam asks Tony, and you finally take a look to where Wanda has been sitting in complete silence since you walked in.

You go over to her and take the empty seat next to hers, and the old leather couch cracks loudly under your weight, which makes her smile as she looks at you.

"That was totally this old thing," you tell her, and she tucks her hair behind an ear as she looks away, nodding her head.

"Don't worry," she says, and Tony clears his throat rather loudly.

He launches into a detailed explanation about the technology he uses to power your suits and special gadgets, but you hear none of it.

No, you're too preoccupied staring at Wanda and thinking about the last thing she told you.

The last couple of days have been a whirlwind, to say the least, and you're certain of one thing only, you don't want to lose her friendship. This is enough. Being her friend is enough, but not seeing her completely will devastate you.

"What?" She asks you with a tone meant to be exasperated, but the small smile on her lips doesn't fool you.

"I didn't see you yesterday," you tell her, and she looks at her lap. She's troubled, and you can see it clearly.

"You missed me?" She asks you after a beat, a cute grin pulling at the corners of her lips as she looks at you.

"Yeah." You nod, your eyes falling to her lips for a second. "Always."

"Excuse me?" Tony's annoyed voice reaches your ears, and you look at him. "Did you listen to a thing I just said?"

"You updated our uniforms, starboy. We have to take care of them. We all hear you."

The boys laugh, and Wanda hides her smile behind her hand as Tony glares daggers at you.

"You're not funny," he tells you, and you blow him a kiss.

"Then why is everyone else laughing?" You ask him, and he rolls his eyes at you.

"We were listening," Wanda tells him, and his glare turns to her. "You updated our uniforms and the communications line now has a wider range."

"They do have a wider range." He points the pen he's holding at her, and he goes back to explain the details that none of you can actually understand. Well, maybe Sam can, a little.

After what feels like an eternity and you've all tried the new gadgets, you walk out of his lab.

"Hey, wanna grab lunch?" You ask Wanda as the boys walk ahead of you. She hesitates for a second, but then she nods her head, and you go to the elevator.

She's quiet in the elevator ride towards the garage, uncharacteristically so. But you watch her through the mirror wall, and she's looking down at the floor, her fingers playing with each other as if to consciously avoid meeting your stare.

You don't know what goes through her mind, and you don't attempt to know either. You can do this, and nothing has to change.

She knows about your feelings, and although she confessed to being physically attracted to you, nothing has to change. Wanting her and loving her is enough.

She doesn't look at you when you walk the small path towards your car, not even when you get in first. She's nervous and conflicted.

"Get in," you tell her softly, and the moment she meets your gaze - something changes.

She smiles softly at you, and she drops her hands, and you watch her take a deep breath and surround the car to get in the passenger seat.

It's unfair how beautiful she is; it truly is torture for you. You're not able to look away as she walks, as she smiles, as she just - exists.

You take her to a little restaurant a couple of miles south of the Compound that you frequent. She hasn't been in, and when you order two of your favorites, the smile on her face returns, truly returns.

She's all smiles as you talk and talk, and she listens with a smile that does inexplicable things to you.

You could watch her smile from afar, and you know it'd be enough.

By the time you're driving back home, she's telling you about a new recipe she wants to try, and when you say goodbye, you might be a little more in love with her.

…

August 9th

You're walking by the kitchen when you catch sight of Wanda dancing softly by the stove. She must think there's no one around because she's bobbing her head and holding a wooden spoon to her mouth as if it were a microphone and you're positively smitten by her.

The mere image that should be embarrassing only manages to endear her to you, and you can't help but walk towards her.

You recognize the song playing softly through the speakers the closer you get, and when she sees you, she jumps backward, her cheeks tainted red and a gasp leaving her parted lips.

There's a moment when you're about to burst out laughing, and she's looking at you in horror that you'll make fun of her, but then the chorus to 'Living on a prayer,’ comes up, and both of you sing loudly to it.

You dance around her, and she follows you with a smile on her face as you both sing, and dance and when the song ends, she's laughing, and you are too.

"We should totally host a karaoke night," you tell her, and her smile, God! Her smile makes your heart flutter, and you don't know how to breathe properly.

"Yeah, that was fun." She nods as her eyes drop to your lips for a moment.

You can't breathe because you could have this kind of fun all the time if you had only met her before Natasha did.

But you didn't, and you have no right to be thinking like this, none. You can daydream about kissing her, but you can't feel like this; it's not fair.

But then she kisses you, and you're not prepared at all.

The sudden touch of her lips against yours makes you flinch back, and she's looking just as scared as you feel.

A moment passes, and she doesn't look away from you, so when you lean towards her, she meets you halfway.

You kiss her, and a tidal wave of emotions travels through your body, making your lungs feel tight, and your hands begin to shake as they grip her waist. She pulls you closer, her hands on your nape pulls and pulls until you're pressing her body between the counter and yours.

You've heard about the clichés and even experienced one or two yourself, but you've never experienced them all at the same time.

When Wanda parts her lips and your tongues meet in a deeper and more sensual kiss, fireworks erupt behind your eyelids, your stomach begins to flutter, and you can hear a light song playing softly just for you to hear. Everything is there, every single cliché, and everything else disappears.

Suddenly it's just the two of you alone in a world where no one can come in and bother you, nothing else exists, and it's a scary sensation but passionate too. It's exciting and sweet.

It's a perfect kiss.

And you realize that wanting won't be enough after this moment.

When you pull back to get some much-needed air, her eyes are still closed, and you're not sure how you're going to be able to move on from this.

She makes the choice for both of you, though. She pushes you away, lightly and then she practically runs out of the kitchen.

You stand there for a long while, just thinking and still feeling the imprint of her lips on yours, but eventually, you turn off the stove and leave too.

…

August 10th

It's two-thirty in the morning when your phone rings, and you wake up quickly, but you don't catch the call. When you go to check who called, your phone doesn't show a missed call.

Natasha. It's an old trick you used once before.

"Friday," you call out as you run out of your room. Your heart is hammering inside your chest because you know this could very well be a call for help. "Stand by, I might need you to wake everyone up."

You run towards Tony's lab, but you don't find it empty.

"Jesus Christ!" He jumps to his feet, clutching his chest and almost losing his balance when you all but barrel inside.

"I saw an old radio here yesterday." You run towards the back, and you find it with ease.

"Hey, what's going on?" He asks, now more worried than scared.

"Hold on." You raise your hand as you search for the right frequency, and just like you expected, a code begins to play. "Get me a piece of paper and a pen."

"What's going on?" He raises his voice but gets you what you need.

The message is on repeat, so you listen and write down, and when you finally read the whole message, the air returns to your lungs, and you take in a deep breath.

"Well?" Tony practically screams when you sit down on the floor.

"That woman is insane." You point the pen at him, and he snatches it from your hand.

"Tell me what's going on. Now!"

"Geez. Relax, grandpa."

"Don't call me that. I swear if you don't start talking I'm gonna -"

"It was Nat." You cut him off as you stand up, and his eyes widen. "They're fine, just unable to properly communicate right now. Mission got complicated but they haven't been made, they're safe but they'll be gone for a whole month. Or so she estimates."

"You got all that from that code?" He asks, and you grin in response.

"And without any of your gadgets." You add with an impressed look, making him roll his eyes.

"You need to inform the wife," he tells you, and your stomach sinks for a whole different reason.

"I know."

…

You're standing outside Wanda's bedroom, and it's almost three am. You're considering waiting till the morning to tell her all this when her door opens from within.

"Hey," she says when she sees you standing there.

"Hi." You look at her, and you lose track of what exactly you're doing here because she's wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that barely touches her thighs and her legs seem to run on for days.

She's so beautiful, unfairly so, and you're so nervous about being here with her because you can still feel the imprint of her lips on yours from the forbidden kiss you shared just hours ago.

"Is everything alright?" She asks as she tucks her hair behind an ear shyly, probably after noticing you staring at her legs.

"Right." You take a deep breath and focus on looking at her face. "Nat sent a message."

"What did she say?" She rushes to ask you and all awkwardness disappears, and she's Natasha's wife.

"They're okay but they can't communicate properly. They're safe and they won't be back for at least a whole month."

"She's safe?" She asks with a subtle nod of her head as if to reassure herself.

"She's safe." You still answer because it looks like she needs to hear it.

You're intently observing her, so you notice the exact moment in which she remembers you, and her eyes widen. You think she considers apologizing, but you both know that she has nothing to apologize to you for.

"I'm gonna go," you tell her, but she grabs your arm before you can turn around.

"Wait," she says. "Stay for a bit. Let's talk."

It's only when you're sitting in one of the three couches inside that you realize that you'll never be able to tell her no. Not that you mind at the moment, but you do find yourself thinking that maybe that's a dangerous trait to have with her, especially since she's a married woman.

You watch her pouring wine in two tall glasses in silence, perhaps considering what she should say and do, and you take the chance to look around a little bit.

The room is bigger than yours, it's almost like a small one-bedroom apartment. It has a little living room area, a bar in the corner stuck with several bottles of wine and vodka, a small library to the left of the ensuite, and of course, the king-sized bed against the back wall.

"Here." She hands you a glass, and you take an immediate sip if only to busy yourself with something.

"You really like your chardonnay, huh?"

"You like it too," she says matter of factly, and you smile in response. "Don't deny it."

"Wine it's kind of our thing now. I do like it." You nod as she sits in front of you on the loveseat.

She breathes in as if she's about to tell you something, but she's at a loss, and you hate to see her conflicted.

"Wanda," you call her, and she looks up. "This doesn't have to mean anything."

"I know," she says, cutting you off. "I know it doesn't have to mean anything, but I was thinking -"

She trails off, and she's not looking at you. She's staring at the glass of wine in her hands as a small crinkle appears on her forehead.

"I was thinking," she says again, and she looks back up. Her eyes lock you in as she rests her elbow on the armrest, and you're ridiculously entranced by her and the way she touches her lips softly, her eyes still on you. "Maybe it can mean something after all."

You're so caught up with watching her lips that it takes you a couple of seconds to register what she just said.

"What?" You ask her, and it feels as if you were in a daze.

She doesn't say anything for a beat, and you wait as she drinks her wine and puts her glass down before standing up and walking over to you.

You're aware that you're practically frozen to your spot, but you don't really care about anything but her at this moment.

When she sits next to you, she's nervous, you can easily pick up on her anxiousness, but when she takes the glass from your hands and sets it aside, her hands are barely shaking.

"Wanda." You gasp when she doesn't let go of your hand, and she moves to sit closer to you, on her side, her leg tucked under as she looks into your eyes.

"You think it can mean something, for now?" She asks, and you lose your breath, thinking that maybe you're imagining all of this.

But seeing into her eyes, you're more sure than ever before that you can't say no to her, not even for this, for what you believe she's asking of you.

You nod softly but without a doubt that you want her. Whatever she wants to give, you want it.

She smiles timidly but what she does next is the complete opposite. She's still holding your hand, and when she moves it, you're still looking into her eyes.

She leads your hand between her legs, letting you feel the soft skin of her thighs before you realize that she's not wearing anything beneath that t-shirt.

You quickly realize that whatever will happen between the two of you will not be pretty. The second you feel how wet she is, the thought comes to you, and you know you'll end up hurt and devastated from whatever happens.

Still, that first touch of her makes her whimper softly and her hips back into your hand as her thighs fall open, spreading herself wide for you. And that whimper, that little breathy whimper she lets out, imprisons you.

She's holding onto your wrist as you run your fingers down her slit, only to gather her wetness before running them back up to graze her clit, making her gasp and feel as if she can't breathe.

Hot desire coils in your belly with the sounds she's making, and you begin to throb in your own craving to be touched back.

She closes her eyes when she can no longer keep them on you, and you find yourself gasping for breath too.

You quickly move, falling to the ground on your knees and taking your hand back. That makes her open her eyes in a frenzy, only to find you kneeling right in front of her.

You pull her towards the edge, hands on her bare waist, and since she's not really wearing anything between her legs. Getting there with your mouth is not a difficult task at all.

You kiss her thighs first, and her breathing turns erratic, her hands touch your shoulders, your hands, she pulls lightly at your hair, and you smile to yourself.

When you finally put your mouth on her, you feel her tensing, and you take in a moment to take it all in.

This is happening, you're really here, and this is happening.

You lick a path down her slit before pressing your tongue against her opening, hard and bringing your tongue back up. Her hips buck, and she's gripping your hair hard, even more so when your tongue finds her clit, and you round it before sucking on it.

She's too worked up, she was already wet when you first touched her, and it only takes you a couple of minutes to make her cum in your mouth.

You feel it happening slowly, her body comes to a halt, and she seems to stop breathing, and these delicious tiny whimpers leave her parted lips, over and over again.

You kiss her thighs, your hands still holding onto her waist under the t-shirt, but it only takes her a moment to pull herself back together, and then she's pulling you towards her to kiss you fully and ardently.

She wraps her arms around you as you kiss her with bruising enthusiasm, and you push your hips between her legs, making her wrap her legs around you before standing up.

You don't stop kissing, and she's surprisingly light to lift. You walk blindly to her bed, and when you fall on top of her in the soft mattress, she laughs as you pull back slightly.

"You're a great kisser," she says with a glint in her eyes and raw kissed pink lips. Something about the moment makes you want to freeze it, save the look in her eyes in your memory forever.

"Wanda," you say her name, and she kisses you again.

This time she pulls at your sleeping shirt until you sit up and take it off completely before attaching your lips to her neck.

She moans when your hips buck against hers, and you're cupping her breasts, sucking on her neck, and pushing your hips against hers when she runs her nails down your back, scratching you lightly, and you have to pull back.

The sensation of her nails on your back have you losing your breath. You're shivering even as she smiles at you and sits up in front of you.

With a light push, she has you on your back, her hands pulling down your sleeping pants and panties without preamble.

"You okay?" She asks you as she throws your clothes to the floor, and you sit up too.

"Yes," you tell her, and although you're starting to feel like you can't breathe, you really do feel okay.

"You sure?" She asks in a whisper as she pushes you lightly again, and she lays on top of you.

You gasp in a breath when you feel her naked body pressing against yours. Her breasts, her belly, her legs, and her lips kissing the corner of your lips as she waits for an answer.

"I'm sure." You nod, and she kisses you hungrily. There's no build-up for this kiss, just underrated want, and you respond in kind.

You try to keep your eyes open as she kisses every inch of your body, and as she squeezes your breasts before taking a nipple in her mouth, you begin to believe that you might not make it out alive.

It's a ridiculous thought, of course, but she's everything you've ever wanted, and having her do these ungodly things to you is slowly driving you insane. And when she's planting delicate kisses on your belly, her hands spreading your legs for her, you truly believe that you might pass out.

Instead, you watch her lick a path down your navel and then her tongue disappearing between your folds, and the sensation of her wet hot breath coming in contact with your heat makes you shiver and buck your hips involuntarily.

She chuckles lightly, her hands coming to grip your hips to keep them in place, and you feel yourself blushing.

"I haven't even started yet." She smiles, but she doesn't let you speak before her mouth is once again in you, her tongue dipping and forcing itself inside of you.

She's so warm, her tongue so skilled, and you find yourself cumming much faster than you ever thought you would.

You keep your eyes closed as a tidal wave of blinding pleasure washes over you. You feel her pressing her lips on your thighs, her hands on your waist, and then she removes herself completely from you.

You hear her bathroom door close, and you let out a deep breath.

Not knowing what to do until she gets back, you pick up your clothes and get dressed quickly. You don't know what to do or what to think once you're fully dressed again.

Was this a one-time thing? Is she freaking out in the bathroom? Is she waiting for you to leave?

What does it mean?

"Hey," she says, and you haven't noticed the bathroom door opening. You didn't even see her coming out.

"Hey," you say it back, and she's wearing a top now and a pair of sweats.

God! She's still the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, and you're pretty sure that you're in love with her, irrevocably so, but she's still married, and you still did something wrong here.

"Sorry, I just needed to use the bathroom." She says with an awkward smile. She's picked up her hair in a messy ponytail, and it looks like she's washed her face, and all you want to do is walk up to her and kiss her again.

"It's okay," you tell her. "I should go anyway." You say, and she walks up to you slowly, as if she's expecting you to bolt, and she's biting her bottom lip in a way that to you is now so intimate.

"I'm not throwing you out," she says, and before you know how to properly react, her hands are on your shoulders, running up to your neck and down again.

Her touch has an instant effect on you, and you don't know how she does it. You don't know how she can have this much power over you, over your body, and over the way you react to her, mentally and physically.

You feel yourself relax, the tension on your shoulders dropping with each stroke of her hands, and the doubts that were swirling in your head quiet down the longer she looks at you with her big rounded eyes.

"You can stay. You should, actually." She says with humor, and you smile, your hands coming to rest on her waist instinctively. "You don't want me to think you regret this, don't you?"

"I don't." You shake your head. "I don't regret it."

"Good," she says. "Neither do I."

…

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #scarlett witch x reader #august

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officialaemondtargaryen · 11 months

Text

A Fine Line [part 3]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either. This is a Modern Day AU!

Pairing: Aegon x Reader / Aemond x Reader

Word Count: 4.0k

Author’s Note: Sorry it was late! I don't know if my M,W,F schedule is going to work. I just want to say thank you all! I really hope you like this one and please, I would love to hear your thoughts & predictions! I basically screech like a pterodactyl whenever you guys leave comments! Tag list is open!

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, and language, alcohol use, recreational drug use.

Masterlist & Playlist

The light from the early, Saturday morning sun filtered into your bedroom through half-opened blinds, illuminating tiny specks of dust in the air. It was warm with Aegon pressed against your back; his soft breaths fanning over your shoulder. You stirred softly, turning so that you were facing him, doing your absolute best to not disturb him so that he could continue to sleep in.

It broke your heart to look at him now, knowing that your relationship was hanging by a thread. Wondering how you got here, how you arrived at the platform of whatever these feelings were that you felt for him. Caught between the memories of what you had once before, and feeling as if you were in this bed alone, despite the fact that he was laying right next to you.

You moved, swinging your feet over the side of the bed as you stood up with a sigh. Aegon groaned, his arms reaching for you before turning back over on his stomach and going right back to sleep. His wavy, golden hair splayed out on the pillows as he shifted deeper into them. The duvet pulled down, exposing his freckled shoulders. It took everything in you not to reach out and touch him.

Even your fingers balled into a fist, nails digging into your palm to keep yourself from it. Why? You'd wind up disappointed, feeling unwanted, and he'd be annoyed that you woke him.

The thought made you want to cry.

It was around noon when he finally emerged from the bedroom. You had lost track of how long you'd been sitting at the kitchen table; a bagel untouched on the plate in front of you. You jumped slightly at the feeling of his hand on the back of your neck, just briefly touching you as he made his way to the coffee maker. It was a fleeting moment, his fingertips leaving you just as quickly as they came.

He was in a white t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Despite his disheveled appearance, he looked close to angelic- even with the dark circles under his clouded, blue eyes. You could hear him inhale and exhale heavily with his first sip of coffee; shoulders rising and falling with his breath.

When did it become this way? This silence?

You used to look forward to Saturday mornings; knowing that you had two full days with him to yourself. You'd spend every weekend tangled on the couch or in the bed, not getting up unless you absolutely needed to. Weekends in the summer were always fun, too. He'd always find something for the two of you to do; getting high at the beach, spending your days at Coney eating corndogs and funnel cake until you wanted to throw up or throw yourselves right off the end of the pier. You missed his ice cream cone kisses and the way he would lay his head in your lap as you would read whatever novel you had brought with you that day.

"Colleen Hoover," you whispered to yourself as you absentmindedly stirred your lukewarm coffee; the last book you remember reading on a beach towel under the hot, July sun.

"What was that?" Aegon asked, turning to face you.

You were broken out of your trance and looked up at him. "What?"

"I think you went somewhere," a goofy smile replaced his signature pout. When you didn't say anything, his smile faltered. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Mm," you hummed and took a sip of your coffee before making a face. It was definitely lukewarm- cold, even. "So, awards ceremony tonight, huh?"

Aegon rolled his eyes, "If I could just not, I would not."

You stood up and dumped your cold coffee down the drain and sat your cup in the sink. "But babe," you sighed softly and reached for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Look at everything you've accomplished, what you've become! You've worked so hard!"

His eyes were glued to the floor. "You're right," his lips turned up into a smile as he looked up at you through fair lashes. His hands caressed the skin on the back of your arms. "I've worked really hard, and soon it will all pay off and we'll buy a house and get a dog." His forehead pressed against yours as he sighed. His eyes fluttered shut. "A golden retriever, we'll name him Sunny."

"Sunny sounds like he's a really good boy," you whispered and moved to place a kiss on his lips.

"The best," his body became less tense.

You smiled as you stood like that for a moment, just swaying back and forth as he held you so close that you could feel his heartbeat. He was so warm in your arms that you felt like you were holding onto a piece of the sun. You turned your head to place a kiss on the side of his neck, lips brushing the soft skin under his ear, wanting nothing but to tell him that you loved him, that you missed him, that you wanted things to go back to the way they were. But your eyes fluttered open as you heard his phone vibrate on the counter, the moment instantly shattering to bring you back to the reality of your mediocre life. Aegon tensed, his head falling to your shoulder as he groaned in annoyance.

"And so it begins," he mumbled. He let the phone ring, knowing that Otto would call back immediately after it went to voicemail.

Before he could leave the kitchen, you stopped him.

"Hey, would you mind if I invited Aemond to go bowling with us tonight?" You asked, gnawing on the inside of your cheek.

"Not at all," he shrugged. "It'd probably be good for him to get out. Let me see what this fucker wants and then I'll text you his number."

Aegon left shortly after, having been summoned to some "pre-ceremony conference" just to finalize the details of the evening. He had sent over Aemond's contact information before he left, promising that he would see you later tonight. Suddenly you found yourself alone, the silence sitting with you like a friend that you'd run out of things to talk about with.

You stared at your phone for what felt like hours, thumbs hovering over the keyboard; not sure why 'hey, did you really want to go bowling' was such a hard thing to say, but you typed it and deleted it about one hundred times. The final time you typed the words, you quickly pressed the tiny, blue arrow, sending the message into the void before setting your phone face down on the table and standing up.

Before you had even turned to walk out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom, you heard a ding! The butterflies in your stomach, which shouldn't have been there, fluttered mercilessly almost making you nauseous. You inhaled at the sight of the words on the screen, your eyes scanning them over and over again: "Of course, I'll see you there." What was most likely an unambiguous winking emoji at the end of that sentence- because in your experience, men didn't know what emojis even were- was staring back at you with a strange tension that caused a knot to form in your throat.

It was wrong.

It was all so, so wrong.

You placed your phone back down on the kitchen table and shook your head; fighting an internal battle with the guilt and the excitement that you felt. Neither one was winning, but both were slowly tearing you in half.

The thought of cancelling crossed your mind as you showered, but only because you found yourself fantasizing about every possible scenario that would lead to this night ending with you on your back in Aemond's bed. You pictured a navy blue duvet and cold, cotton sheets; a wooden headboard tapping against dark colored walls. Your legs clenched together at the thought of his weight pressing down on you.

As you continued to get ready, the images were becoming ingrained on the back of your eyelids. Every time you closed your eyes small details would change; positions, locations, where his mouth was on your body, the lighting of the room, the scent of his cologne, if his hair was up or down. You had tried to reason with yourself, that this was a completely normal feeling, that you just hadn't been laid in a while.

It didn't make a difference.

You half-hoped that he wouldn't follow through with his plans to meet you at the bowling alley. However, when you turned the corner on to 9th Avenue, you noticed his lithe figure leaning against the outside of the building. You stopped for a few seconds, watching him as he stood there; his warm breath swirling in the frigid, January air as he checked his phone.

Seconds later you felt a vibration in your pocket: "I'm here."

"I have to ask, what is your haircare routine because I've yet to see you have a bad hair day." You texted back.

He looked up and around until his gaze caught you, a small smile tugged at his lips as he pushed himself off of the side of the building. You joined him at his side, your neck craned to see his face.

"It is surprisingly simple, but if I told you then I'd have to kill you," he said so smoothly he could have rehearsed it. "And I like you," he added as he opened the door into the bowling alley and gestured for you to go inside. "So, I'd rather not say."

You smirked at his words, eyes rolling slightly. "If you ever change your mind, here's my business card-" of course you had one with you. "My readers would love to know."

He chuckled at that, "I absolutely will," and tucked the card in his coat pocket. "So who's birthday is it?"

"My coworker, Jace," you replied as you scoured the lanes for Baela and Jace. "He's probably a few years younger than you, writes really thoughtful obituaries." You spotted Baela and waved. "Baela is here, too. You met her last night."

You weren't sure why you felt nervous. Aemond certainly didn't seem to be. He was so calm and collected, and cool, as if it was effortless to him; as if he didn't command every eye to look at him the moment he entered a room. The look on Baela's face couldn't have been further from calm, collected, and cool. Her white curls fell over furrowed brows and her lips were pushed to the side.

Jace just looked happy to be there.

"Hey guys," you greeted as you stepped down to the table they were sitting at. "Happy birthday, Jace!" You moved to give him a quick hug. "Jace this is Aegon's brother, Aemond. Aemond, this is Jace. Aegon couldn't make it, some work thing."

"Lucky me," Aemond smirked as he shook Jace's hand. "It's nice to meet you." He then turned his attention to Baela. "Lovely to see you again, Baela."

Despite her rigid expression earlier, you did see her cheeks turn just a shade darker as he kissed her knuckles. You smiled to yourself.

"You guys should go get shoes," Jace mentioned. "Unless you're afraid to lose."

Aemond's eye squinted as he looked at Jace and laughed, "In a hurry to get shown up on your birthday?"

"Go get the shoes!" You groaned at him, pushing him towards the rental counter. "I'm a size __." Your eyes followed Aemond as he disappeared through the crowd before you turned your attention back to Baela. "What?"

Her arms were crossed over her chest. "I'm just concerned," she says softly. "You've been here all of five minutes and I haven't seen you this happy in two years? I just don't want you to do something that you'll regret."

Your shoulders slump and you rolled your eyes dramatically. "Baela, I'm just-" you stopped when you saw Aemond making his way back over to the table. "Being nice! Two people can be just friends."

She gave you a look but dropped the subject as Aemond dropped your bowling shoes in front of your feet. Someone ordered a round of shots, and then a second round, and a third. It was starting to get warm, the music was loud, and you felt good. Aemond was surprisingly extroverted, despite the enigmatic aura he typically projected. He seemed so nonchalant, like he belonged there, like he was good at it.

The game was obviously competitive, with Jace and Aemond doing their best to one-up each other with every strike. They carried most of the score, while you and Baela joked around, not really caring. You stepped up to the line, getting ready to throw the swirly purple and teal ball down the lane.

"Wait, wait, wait!" You heard behind you. A flurry of pale blonde hair bounced towards your side. "I've watched you throw three straight gutter balls, please, allow me?"

"What?" You gasped. "I know we're behind, but I'm not going to cheat and let you take my shot for me!"

Aemond held a hand to his chest, "The fact that you would even insinuate that I'd allow you to cheat!" He scoffed. "Please, just-"

He turned you back to face the pins, the contact of his hands on your shoulders made you disoriented. You tried to breathe, but it was so warm in there. There was a slight rosy hue to his otherwise pale cheeks as he towered over you. His hands lingered still on your shoulders. You tried not to pay attention to the way his fingers pressed into your skin as your blouse shifted beneath his grip.

"Put your feet here," he instructed and pointed to where you should stand with his toe. One hand dropped to the small of your back, you swallowed thick. "Now," his lips were dangerously close to your ear. "Line your ball up with that pin and when you step up to throw, bring this leg back."

You felt the inside of your body clenching as his hands dropped to your waist. Your cheeks flushed as the hair on the back of your neck stood straight.

Following his instruction, you took a few steps up to the pine and released your ball. Within seconds it curved to the left, falling straight into the gutter once more. You turned to look at him with a disappointed frown. His lips couldn't help but begin to turn upwards at your failure.

“I thought you said you were good at this?” You say to Aemond, giving him a playful shove. "We're going to lose!"

"And you'd blame me?" He asked with a smile.

"You instructed me right into a gutter ball!" You threw your hands up.

"My instruction was flawless, as always," you could hear the double entendre in his voice. "Not my fault you couldn't focus."

"I beg to differ," you quipped under your breath, knowing that he was close enough to hear you.

On his next turn, Jace bowled a strike to win the game. The scores weren't even close, but it didn't matter. You'd had more fun tonight than you'd had in- well, since you could remember. For a moment, you'd wished Aegon had been here, but you shut the door on that thought as you checked your phone to see that he hadn't texted you- not even to check in- since he left the apartment earlier.

Your eyes connected with Aemond as you slipped your phone back into your pocket and you smiled softly. You hardly knew him, but you could tell he knew; Aegon was his brother, after all.

"Another game?" Jace asked.

"I don't think I have another game in me," you chuckled. "My shoulder is killing me after the three games we just played."

"The three games you lost, you mean?" Jace countered.

"Hey, I know it's your birthday, but I will still kick your ass!" You laughed as you slipped out of your bowling shoes.

"We'll have a rematch, soon." Aemond interjected, holding his hand out to Jace. "Good match."

"Girls versus guys next time, maybe?" Jace laughed and shook Aemond's hand.

"That wouldn't be fair," Aemond mentioned with a cocky smirk.

"I wouldn't underestimate us," Baela added as she slung her arm over your shoulder and began walking with you towards the counter to drop off your shoes.

The midnight air was numbing as you stepped out of the comforting warmth of the bowling alley. You were almost instantly sobered, feeling tiny flecks of snow fall to your face. The sidewalks were still buzzing and the traffic on 9th Avenue was still busy as car horns sounded in the distance; a reminder that you lived in a 24 hour city.

"Anyone want to go grab a slice of pizza?" You asked. One, because you needed something to soak up the alcohol in your stomach. And two, because you knew that once Jace and Baela left, you'd be alone with Aemond.

Baela hugged you tightly before holding you at arms length, she mentioned something about going to church with her parents tomorrow morning and promised to see you bright-and-early Monday morning. Jace was already flushed from having a few, too many drinks, and Baela urged that he needed to get home.

You weren't necessarily disappointed, just anxious.

"Thanks for coming," Jace smiled warmly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder in a side hug. He extended his fist out to Aemond, "it was good to meet you, man."

"Likewise, have a good night." His voice was soft through a tight-lipped smile.

You watched as Baela and Jace turned the corner, before turning your attention to Aemond. The headlights of passing by taxi cars shined in his crystalline eye, making him look as if he were unreal; a marble statue dressed in all back with his hands shoved into his pockets. You weren't sure what to say to him, if you should stay or go.

"Can I walk you to the train?" He asked and you exhaled with a smile.

"I'd like that," you replied.

The closest subway platform was two blocks down on 42nd. You did your best to keep up with his long strides, but it proved to be difficult. He had to stop a few times, turning to you with a smile while he waited for you to catch up. You mostly talked about work to keep the conversation going. The one thing you had noticed about Aemond was that he was a good listener, whether he actually cared about anything you were saying or not, he at least seemed to be interested.

He talked about himself, too, which you enjoyed. He talked about all of the places he had travelled to last year and how happy he was to be back home. He gushed about being able to see his family again, specifically his mother and his sister.

You'd never once heard Aegon speak about his family in such a way.

"Can I ask you something?" You said after the conversation had faded out. Your train was running late, but Aemond had been willing to wait with you so that you weren't alone.

"I can't guarantee I'll have an answer, but go for it."

"Why didn't you tell Aegon that we had met in the grocery store?"

He looked at you, his eye narrowed. "Honestly, it's just easier not to say anything sometimes." He spoke, a pensive expression across his pointed features. "Why didn't you?"

You dropped you gaze to the concrete floor. "Because it's just easier not to say anything, sometimes." You repeated his own words, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Hm," he hummed as he leaned up against a brick column. "You know," he said after a few moments of silence. You looked back up at him. "This can't happen." He motioned to the space between the two of you.

"What? Never!" You replied quickly. "I'm appalled that you're even assuming."

"I'm just making sure we're on the same page," he held his hands up defensively.

"We are," you agreed.

"We are?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes, we're friends," you replied sternly. "That's all it can be."

"Good," he stuck his hand out for you to shake on it.

You shook his hand with a firm grip, but he turned your hand over in his, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. It made your heart flutter every time. The announcement that your train was arriving played on the overhead speakers.

"Thank you, Y/N. For tonight." His blue eye was piercing through you. "That was the most fun I've had in a while."

They way he said your name and the feeling of your hand in his made you wish he'd just take you home with him; to that navy blue duvet you were picturing earlier. But that was just a fantasy that lived in your mind only, and would never- could never come to fruition. He was right, Baela was right, this couldn't happen.

"You're welcome, I'm glad that you had a good time." You said softly, doing your best to hide your disappointment that the night was ending. "Thank you for coming with me."

As the train pulled up to the platform, you wished that he would pull you into him. The crisp air was thick with tension, and even though you had just agreed to the terms of this- you weren't even sure if you could call it a relationship- friendship, a look lingered in Aemond's eye that told you he didn't mean any of it.

"Friends," you repeated, reminding yourself and him of the deal that you had just made.

He nodded, "Friends."

"I hope you have a good night, Aemond." You pulled your hand from his slowly until it dropped to your side. The doors to the train opened and you found yourself a spot next to the window, forcing yourself not to look back.

Aegon isn't home when you step into your apartment. It's almost too dark and cold, and quiet, and you feel like you shouldn't even be there. You don't even care to hang up your bag and coat, you simply toss them over the arm of the couch. You've got a slight headache and you're starving, and all that you can think about is something you shouldn't be thinking about.

Your phone vibrated as you headed into the kitchen.

Aemond.

"Thanks again, I hope you made it home safe."

You found your thumbs typing a reply before you could even think if it was a good idea or not, "Anytime! I just walked through the door. We should have definitely gotten pizza, but I guess leftover lasagna will work."

Not even bothering to heat up your leftovers, you make your way back into the living room with a Tupperware of lasagna from last night and a fork. You click on the television, catching up on the news before flipping it over to one of your favorite shows.

"You've beaten me, I've got cereal."

You laughed and typed, "That kind of suits you."

Over the next two hours you had squeezed in three new episodes of your show and discussed everything from food, to movies, to philosophy with Aemond. He'd leave you the occasional voice note when he didn't feel like typing a reply, and you'd try not to think about how good his voice sounded at this ungodly hour. You'd try not to think of him sitting back, half-lidded on the couch, in a very comfortable sweater and a pair of joggers with a smile on his face because he was texting you.

It was almost 3:00 AM when you finally got a text from Aegon.

"Don't feel like you need to wait up for me. I love you."

Tagged: @tssf-imagines @gothicwidowsworld @itsabby15 @possiblyafangirl @namelesslosers@toodlesxcuddles @hiraethrhapsody @heavenly1927 @chainsawsangel @hanula18

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