"não Há Amor Maior Do Que Aquele Que Dá A Vida Por Seus Amigos" João 15:13

"não há amor maior do que aquele que dá a vida por seus amigos" João 15:13

50 WORDS TO USE INSTEAD OF “SAID”

Do you ever find yourself over-using the word “said” in your writing? Try using these words/phrases instead:

stated

commented

declared

spoke

responded

voiced

noted

uttered

iterated

explained

remarked

acknowledged

mentioned

announced

shouted

expressed

articulated

exclaimed

proclaimed

whispered

babbled

observed

deadpanned

joked

hinted

informed

coaxed

offered

cried

affirmed

vocalized

laughed

ordered

suggested

admitted

verbalized

indicated

confirmed

apologized

muttered

proposed

chatted

lied

rambled

talked

pointed out

blurted out

chimed in

brought up

wondered aloud

(NOTE: Keep in mind that all of these words have slightly different meanings and are associated with different emotions/scenarios.)

65K notes View Post

vandahama

10 months ago

Starving is NOT an option when you're my friend!

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vandahama

2 years ago

“Soon you’ll realize that many people will love the idea of you but will lack the maturity to handle the reality of you.”

— Reyna Biddy

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vandahama

9 months ago

“If you’re struggling and your people are just sitting there watching you struggle, they’re not your people.”

— Unknown

676 notes View Post

vandahama

11 months ago

The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy

Pairing: Greaser!Bucky Barnes x Uptown Girl!Reader Summary: Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

A.N. - Here's a long awaited request from one of my dearest readers @oneofstarkskids, it definitely strayed a little from that initial request but i hope you enjoy! "just reread this and it's still so amazing 😭 do you take requests? if so, would you be inclined to writing a grease themed bucky au one shot?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Picture this... he's from the wrong side of the tracks. He's everything every mother in your neighborhood warned you about. His hands perpetually stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips, scuffed leather jacket snug around his broad shoulders.

You're none of those things, the complete opposite. Pearls strung around your neck. Perfectly done up, lips painted the perfect rouge. You're as educated as a woman could be in your day and age. You're an Uptown girl. Capital O - Old Money.

Your friends are enamored with Bucky Barnes and his friends - though you all know they'll never do anything about. Not as long as their parents had anything to say about it. And none of them are prepared to give up their high class life. It's just fun for them. A way to sow some wild oats before their parents introduce them to their future husbands.

Every chance they get, they pester you to take the long way home. To walk by that mechanic shop where Bucky and his friends hang out.

They never approach those Brooklyn boys. No, they never offer more than a coy smile and a languid, flirty twinkle of their manicured fingers. They just relish in the attention they get from walking past them.

You hate it. You hate their arrogance. You hate the smell of nicotine that hangs around him. You hate everything about them, down to those oddly charming Brooklyn accents.

"Hey," a blonde boy calls as you and your best friend walk past their mechanic shop one day. "Hey!"

"I told you this was a bad idea," you hiss at your friend, locking your arm with hers. "Now, look."

"I think they want to talk to us," she squeals under her breath.

He picks up his stride, doing a half jog until he reaches where your friend holds you hostage on the pavement. "We see you ladies passin' through every once in a while. Thought we could be friends or somethin'."

Your friend is immediately entranced with the blonde boy. Her face flushes as she beams at him, "We would love that!"

"We have enough friends," you simultaneously reply.

"She's kidding," your friend nervously chuckles, elbowing you in your ribs.

The blonde boy laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I'm Steve. My friend there is Bucky."

As if on cue, Bucky saunters up beside Steve with an equally arrogant grin. He tips his head at each of you. "Hello, ladies."

Your friend nods at the two of them, an ear to ear grin taking up her entire face. "It's nice to meet you, Steve, Bucky."

The brunette's eyes flash over to you, speaking through that infuriating smirk, "Pleasure's ours."

"Would you ladies like to join us for a Coke?" Steve offers.

"We'd love to!" she immediately replies.

You shoot your friend an intense, incredulous glare. "I'm sorry, could you excuse us for a second?"

"Sure thing." Steve nods, ambling away from you and your friend to give you a moment of privacy.

Bucky doesn't move an inch. He stands before you with that same arrogant smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I'm good right here."

"Fine," you scoff, speaking as bluntly as you can. Despite your polite upbringing, you you find don't care about offending him in the slightest. "We are not staying here!"

"Come on," she pleads. "What's the harm?"

"Where's the good in staying?" you shoot back.

"They're just so handsome," she fawns, looking over her shoulder to give a coy wave to the blonde boy. "And there's one for the both of us, it's fate!"

"It's not fate. They're nothing but trouble."

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes, "You remember that I'm still right here, right?"

You shoot a glare at Bucky. "I know."

He playfully clutches his chest. "You're hurtin' my feelings, Doll."

You can feel the anger raising your blood's temperature. You don't like how quickly he's gotten underneath your skin. "I'm not your Doll."

"Princess?" he suggests with an infuriating wag of his eyebrows.

There's an embarrassingly large part of you that wants to stamp your foot at him and yell at him to stop teasing you. You keep it together just enough to contain that visceral reaction you're having to Bucky Barnes. Mostly. "I'm not your anything!"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "What did I ever do to you, Princess?"

Your eyes narrow in accusation. "I know your type."

"Charming? Irresistibly handsome?"

"Horrendously arrogant," you seethe at him. You turn back to your friend, only to find her missing, "Now, can we please go-"

"Your friend ran off the second you were focused on me."

Your eyes flicker to behind Bucky to your friend, who sure enough is enthralled in a conversation with Steve. "I was not focused on you!"

"Then why didn't you notice your friend runnin' away from you?"

"You're incorrigible."

The corner of Bucky's lips twitch up. "Didn't they teach you in that finishing school that it's not polite to insult people who are tryin' to be your friend?"

"And how would you know that I went to finishing school?"

He quirks an eyebrow at you like the answer is obvious. His eyes rake over you. From the way you hold yourself. To the dresses that oozed quiet luxury. You and Bucky were as different as night and day. "I know an uptown girl when I see one."

"And I know trouble when I see it," you shoot back. "And you Brooklyn boys are nothing but trouble."

It only gets worse from there. After that first interaction, your friend in fully infatuated with Steve Rogers. There is no tearing her away from him.

And that means, as your friend's dutiful alibi, you were dragged down to Brooklyn far more than you ever wanted.

And worst of all, it meant you spent most of your free time in the presence of Bucky Barnes.

"Please, just be nice," your friend begs as you trudge up to their garage. "I'd settle for polite even."

You scoff at her, rolling your eyes, "I'm always polite - just like I'm always nice."

"Not to Bucky, you're not."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, walking into the garage. Your friend takes off, immediately falling into the arms of Steve Rogers. Leaving you with Bucky Barnes to sit with him on the the couch that's become your most constant companion on days like today. As you walk past Bucky, you snipe, "James."

Bucky quirks a brow, smirking at you, "Oh, so now I'm James?"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

He walks away from the bike he spends most of his time working on, snatching a rag from his tool bench and wiping his hands of motor grease. Your eyes involuntarily wander to his hands, the care he puts into wiping each and every one of his fingers.

You stare for a second too long for Bucky not to notice you staring at his hands. "Remind me to thank Steve for tellin' ya that."

You roll your eyes, finally snapping out of it. "It's far better than the alternative."

He flicks the rag over, resting it on his shoulder. "So you like my name?"

You softly snort as you settle onto the couch. "I didn't say that. I said it was better than the alternative."

That smirk only gets even bigger. "What else do ya like about me?"

You roll your eyes. "Not a thing."

He settles into the couch beside you. Far too close for your liking. You can almost feel the rough denim of his jeans through your skirt. "I just love these conversations of ours."

"I don't."

His entire torso turns towards you, mischief and amusement gleaming in those blue eyes, "I mean, why would I want warmth and affection when I could have blind hatred?"

"It's not blind hatred." In spite of easily Bucky gets under your skin, you can't deny just how unfairly handsome he is. Even now, you find yourself lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "It's perfectly reasonable contempt."

He gently runs a finger down your cheek. "I love when you talk smart to me."

You swat his hand away from your face. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not!" Bucky insists. "I really love it! I know it's just your way of flirting with me!"

You scoff, making no attempt to hide your offense, "I am not flirting with you!"

He tilts his head at you, that arrogant smirk once again tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, just admit it, Doll. You're a little sweet on me."

"I am not your Doll!" You fly up out of your seat with an indignant huff. "And I most certainly am not sweet on you!"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when I walk around here without a shirt. Or the way you were staring at my hands just now. What exactly were you picturin' my hands doin'?"

"I was not picturing anything." Your cheeks flame as you continue to bicker back and forth with him. Sure, he was possibly the most gorgeous man you'd ever laid eyes on. And yes, he could be incredibly charming. And sometimes, you found yourself staring at him in an not so innocent way. But you hated him. He infuriated you to no end. "And I was not staring!"

The grin is practically splitting his face. "And you've definitely thought about kissin' me."

"I would rather walk from here to Jersey than kiss you."

He slides up off the couch, taking a long step towards you. "You've got a hell of a temper, you know that?"

You refuse to back down. You press an accusing finger into his chest. You can't help but notice just how firm the muscles underneath that white t-shirt are. "I just think you're real good at pushing my buttons."

"Real good?" Bucky teases. "I think Brooklyn is startin' to rub off on you."

"You know what I think?" Your chest starts to heave with the anger and frustration you feel towards Bucky Barnes. "I think that you're the last person I would ever let rub off on me. I think that you're an arrogant smart ass that likes to spend his day running his mouth."

"And I think you're a repressed priss that couldn't take what she wanted 'less it's handed to her on a silver platter."

"You wouldn't know a damn thing about what I want."

"You wanna know what I think..." He leans closer, lowering himself to your eye level. "I think that you're pissed off because you know deep down those punk ass rich boys will never make ya happy, I think you're pissed off 'cause you're bored, and I think you're pissed off 'cause you want me - even if you'll never admit it."

You don't have a response to that. There's not a single word that comes to mind. You don't think you've ever been this mad before.

And because you can't think of a single word to assuage your heaving chest and boiling blood, you do something that a polite, good girl like you would never even dreaming of doing. Before you can think, you find your hand opening and winding back.

Before you can even make contact with his cheek, he catches your hand, gripping your wrist between his warm, calloused hand. He hauls you forward until you stumble into his chest.

For a moment, you can almost hear a pin drop. The tension is so thick the only air in the room Bucky's breath dancing across your lips. "I think I'm gonna kiss you."

A soft breath stutters from your lips. "And I think I'm gonna let you."

You weren't sure what it was, but after that first kiss, you couldn't get enough of your Brooklyn boy. Even after your friend and Steve had mostly fizzled out, you couldn't get enough of him.

You waited for the moment that they all talked about, the moment when you had your fill of the boy from the wrong side of tracks, when your wild oats were sufficiently sowed, but it never came.

Every time you laid eyes on him, the seal on your fate only solidified more and more. The more you saw him, the more you wanted him. And the more sure you were that you would never be able to let him go.

You weren't a stranger to the boredom and monotony of your upper echelon life, but this was different. This wasn't boredom, he wasn't a distraction. From the moment you met Bucky, you lost all interest in the upper echelon of it all.

Suddenly, you don't care what your friends think, what your parents would think. Suddenly, you were throughly repulsed by the thought of marrying one of those repressed, trust fund babies that littered your street.

And even your friends, the same ones that lived off their fleeting attention, didn't understand.

Your friend rolls her eyes again, a sigh of irritation leaving her lips as you ready to go meet Bucky, "Are you really going back up there?"

"You're the reason I met him in the first place!"

"I know. I know," she groans, clearly disappointed that you hadn't lost interest in Bucky like she had with Steve. "And I'm happy for you! I am! I just I want to make sure..."

Her tone finally gets your full attention. You put your bag down on the table, your eyebrow pulled together, "Make sure what?"

"You're just sowing wild oats, right?"

Your entire face puckers with distaste, "What?"

"That sounded bad," she backtracks, a guilty look painting her face. She takes a deep breath, resting a condescending hand on your shoulder. "You just - you know your future isn't with Bucky, right?"

You shake her hand off your shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"He's from a different world than we are. You know that."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," you scoff. "I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Come on, he's not exactly the sort of guy you can bring home to your parents."

You snort, turning away from her, "I have to go."

"You know I'm right!" she calls after you.

You didn't know that. In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you saw why he was exactly the right person to bring home to your parents. He was everything you could ever bring yourself to hope for and more. Sure, he was different than you and your family, but he was a good man. He was perfect for you.

Surely, your parents could see that. Surely, they could see how good he was for you.

So that's exactly what you were going to do.

Bucky sighs against your lips, "I missed ya."

You don't know when that happened, but you've come to find a comfort in the scent of the faded leather of his jacket, in the feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing dangerously high on your upper thigh.

In the backseat of his beloved car, you curl closer into his side, resting your head on his chest, "Me too."

He kisses the top of your head, watching as you stare off into the distance, "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

You pull back slightly, lifting your head off his chest. With a furrowed brow, you ask him, "How serious are you about me?"

"Dead serious," he replies in an instant.

You lightly swat his chest. "Quit playing."

"'M not playin'," he swears. He does an 'x' over his heart, "Cross my heart."

His answer gives you all the reassurance you need. All there was to do was ask him. Still, there was a hesitancy. You worry that this will just make him realize that you two might just be insurmountably, irreconcilably different. You decide that the best way to ask is just ask. "Then what would you say about meeting my parents?"

"I'd love to," Bucky coolly answers.

You can't help the way your face lights up with hope. "Really?"

"Of course. Anything for my girl."

You really like the way that sounds. His girl. You could get used to being his girl.

The look on your face is worth it all to Bucky. He only hopes you don't see the anxiety in his expression.

He wasn't oblivious to how different your worlds were. He knew there was a good chance that this wouldn't last forever. It didn't really matter what he wanted or how much he was willing to fight for you, he knew the reality of it all.

He couldn't offer you half of what someone in your neighborhood could. Your worlds couldn't be more different.

And he's never been more aware of it than on the eve of meeting your parents.

Steve smirks at Bucky as he fiddles with his tie again. "You're really seein' this through, aren't you?"

Bucky smacks Steve upside his head. "Don't be a jerk."

"I'm just sayin'," Steve shrugs, settled into the couch of Bucky's family home. "I'm happy for ya, Buck. You really like this girl."

"I wouldn't be dressed like this for anyone else. Are you sure this is right?" Bucky tugs at his tie again. Maybe it was that the suit hadn't seen the light of day in a few years and was a little more snug than he remembered. Or maybe it was just that he'd only dressed like this for funerals and weddings, but everything about his getup today made him feel like a fraud. He was sure if your parents saw him like this, they'd see right through him. "I feel like I'm goin' to a school dance."

"Where does she live again?"

Bucky tries his best to hide his wince. He'd never been to your side of town, but he'd heard stories. Sure, most of them were made up, but there had to be some truth buried in the tall tales. "Upper West Side."

Steve pats his shoulder. "Stick with the tie, Buck."

He listens to Steve's advice and sticks with the tie. As he walks through your neighborhood, seeing houses bigger than entire apartment buildings on his block that line your street, he's pretty confident in trusting Steve up until the moment he sees you.

Your smile stutters as you see him waiting outside the gate of your home. It was just his luck that your house was one of the biggest on the block. Your eyes trail up and down Bucky's uncharacteristic attire. "What are you wearing?"

His heart sinks. He looks down, patting his blazer and tie. "Am I - Am I not this thing right? I knew it - I told Steve -"

"No, no," you quickly interject. "You look great! I've just never seen you... like this."

"What's wrong with this?" Bucky hedges.

Your soft smile up at him is the only thing soothing his knotted stomach. "Nothing, I - I just wanted them to meet you, to meet the Bucky that I know and - and I want them to know you. Not whoever this is."

"I - I didn't think they would like that Bucky very much," Bucky confesses.

It doesn't escape you that he's nervous, especially as he fiddles with this tie over and over again. You're well aware of how intimidating this all is. Even as someone who grew up in this social circle, in the thick of the upper echelon, you still found yourself scared of doing and saying the wrong thing.

You knew he was only trying to fit in as best as he could. Still, you missed the smell of his leather jacket, the waft of motor oil that often clung to his skin. "Well, I like you the way you are. Greaser and all."

"Thanks." It's comforting to him. Still, as his eyes rove over your house, he can't help but be glad he listened to both Steve and his mother. He holds out the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "My Ma told me to bring these for your Ma."

An endeared smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. He was really trying to win over your parents. He really was serious about this - about you. "My mother will love this."

"Your mother," Bucky corrects himself, doing his best to tame his Brooklyn twang.

"Just be yourself," you assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you make your way up the long driveway. "No one else, just you."

"Any other tips?"

"If you run out of things to talk about ask my father about his cars. He collects them."

It takes everything in Bucky not to gape like a fish out of water. "He collects... cars?"

You ignore his question, continuing to fill Bucky in on your parents, "And my mother, well, she's a terrible gossip. If you can get her talking about her friends, you've won her over."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Just relax. They'll love you."

As he walks into your home, greeted by a man wearing a nicer suit than he is who offered to take his coat from him, Bucky's not quite sure he believes you.

Your heels click against the sleek marble flooring as you guide him through your home. He holds on tight to your hand, half afraid that you'll let go and he'll get lost in the labyrinth of pristine beige hallways.

Your father is the first to greet Bucky in your living room. He extends a hand out to Bucky. "You must be the boy we've heard so much about."

"It's nice to meet you both," Bucky returns the firm handshake before turning to your mother with the warmest smile he can muster through his anxiety. "You have a lovely home, ma'am. I brought these for you."

She takes the bouquet from Bucky's hand. "Oh, that's very kind of you..."

"Oh, it's Bucky," he supplies.

"Bucky?" your mother dubiously repeats. "How unique..."

"It's James, actually," Bucky corrects himself, already feeling himself getting flustered. "James Buchanan Barnes. 's where Bucky comes from."

Your mother nods, offering a tight smile, "How lovely."

As your mother hands off the flowers to one of the wait staff, he can't help but already feel like he's already made that dreaded bad first impression.

As though you can see the despair forming in the pit of his stomach and dampening the glimmer in his blue eyes, you give his hand a squeeze along with a smile.

"Dinner is ready," your mother announces. "Why don't we make our way to the dining room?"

"That sounds wonderful," you beam, leading Bucky into the next room. You stutter to a stop just before the dining table. You look at the table as you take your seat, your eyebrows furrowed at something that Bucky hasn't quite caught on to. "Mother? I thought we agreed on a more simple menu tonight."

As you speak you reach under the table, giving Bucky's hand an apologetic squeeze. Just from your inflection, Bucky can tell what awaits him will not be pleasant.

"Nonsense." She dismissively waves you off. "We have a guest."

"We talked about this," you admonish. "You promised."

"Bucky?" your mother calls. "Do you mind having a more formal dinner? I know it might be a tad unusual for you."

"Mother," you sharply warn.

"Um, no, ma'am," Bucky awkwardly lilts. "That sounds lovely."

A self satisfied smirk settles on your mother's face. "See? It's fine."

"Why are there so many forks?" Bucky whispers under his breath.

"Just work your way in," you reply as quietly as you can.

"Do you change forks every bite or somethin'?" It's half an attempt at a joke, half an honest question.

"In between courses."

"Courses?"

Before you can answer Bucky's question, your mother is already beginning her interrogation. "So, James, tell us about yourself."

"There's not much to tell," Bucky replies. "I was born and raised down in Brooklyn."

Your father snorts, "Really?"

You're not quite sure if Bucky catches the sarcastic lilt to your father's question or if he really does just try to rise above it. It's hard to tell with how he rolls with the punches. "Yes, sir."

"Any siblings?" your mother asks.

"I'm the oldest of four, ma'am."

"Any plans for your life?" your father finally pipes in.

"Dad," you hiss.

Your father shrugs, "It's an honest question."

Once again, it rolls off of Bucky's back. "Well, I'm workin' at a garage right now. Me and my friend, Steve, we're hopin' to buy it out. We've just about saved enough between the two of us to buy it from the ol' man when he's ready to retire."

"A man with a plan. I like that."

"Thank you, sir." You're sure that you hear Bucky's sigh of relief as he finds his footing. You can practically see his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your daughter tells me that you have an impressive collection yourself."

You weren't entirely sure how he pulled it off, but by the end of the night, Bucky is talking to your parents like they're old friends.

You're not even sure why you're that surprised, you hated him up until the moment you succumbed to his charm.

As the evening comes to a close, he stands in the doorway, shaking your father's hand again, offering your mother that charming grin once more, "Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious."

"You're welcome back anytime, James."

"Thank you." You're almost shocked at your mother's open invitation. He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "I'll see ya later."

The three of you stand in the foyer of your house as Bucky walks down the steps and down the driveway with his hands shoved in his pockets. You look up to your father, face filled with hope. "So?"

"He's a nice boy."

You're not sure your grin can get any bigger. "I really like him."

"You'll grow out of it."

Your heart sinks the moment the words leave your father's mouth. "What?"

"It can't come soon enough," your mother groans. "You're far too good for him."

"You don't know him."

"We know his type, dear," your mother condescendingly sighs. "And good girls like you don't belong with boys like that, but I do think it was sweet of you to invite your little infatuation to dinner."

You feel like all the air has been knocked out of you. For a moment tonight, you really thought they were coming around. You truly thought it would all work out for the best. "Infatuation?"

"That's what this is, right?" your father asks, concern painting his expression when he sees the furiously determined look in your face. "You're just... rebelling?"

You look up at your father, shaking your head. "No, no, I'm not just rebelling."

You fought with them the whole night before you went to find him the very next day. They threatened you with everything they could think of. When that didn't work, they bribed you with everything they could think of. You didn't care for any of it.

The moment you see him, you know he knows. You're not sure if he realized it the moment he walked out of your door or if it took him a quick recollection of the night to realize it, but he knows all the same. It looks like he hasn't slept a wink. A deep frown replaces his usual grin. He looks entirely and totally distraught.

He notices you the moment you walk up to his garage just like you did all those times before.

This time, it's obvious is different. There aren't barbed words or verbal jabs. You don't bound into his arms. Even Steve offers you a sad twitch of his lips.

Bucky watches you for a long moment before you break the silence. He reaches into his pocket, lighting a cigarette in between his fingers. "Hi."

"They hated me, right?" He doesn't waste words. Your lips press together in a tight line. He takes a large drag from his cigarette. You can't remember the last time you saw him smoking. He shakes his head, hissing under his breath, "Damn it..."

"Bucky?"

He takes another large pull from his cigarette. Even from feet away, you can smell the nicotine in the air. "Just do it. I understand."

"What?"

"That's why you're here, right? Just get it over with."

Your eyebrows furrow. "I don't understand."

"I'm not an idiot, alright?" he spits. "I know I didn't pass their little test, so just call it already."

"Is that really what you thought last night was?"

"What else would you call last night? 'Cause I think I was the butt of the joke from beginnin' to end."

"You were not the butt of the joke, Bucky."

"Oh, please, I fell face first into their punchline."

You suck in a shaky breath, both your own hurt and the cloud of smoke around Bucky burning at your throat, "Is that what you think of me? That I was tryin' to set you up?"

"Yes! No- No! I just - I - Don't you see it?"

"See what?" you demand.

"That I'm not good enough for you!" he desperately exclaims, tossing his cigarette on the pavement. "And everyone else already knows it! Last night proved that!"

"My parents are assholes, Bucky. I came here to apologize for them, to tell you that I don't care what they think."

His voice quiets, the anger melts off his words until all that's left is a heartbreaking sincerity, "You should. You deserve so much more than what I can give you."

"They don't know you, but I do." You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. "And I think you've got everything I want. I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

"Do you mean that?"

"Every word."

"What did I do to deserve you? My perfect girl." He kisses the back of the hand he hods, using it to tug you closer to him. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him. "What?"

You wrinkle your nose at him. "I hate the smell of smoke."

"I'll quit," he immediately replies.

"You'll quit smoking? Just like that?"

"That surprise you?"

"It's just - Maybe you Brooklyn boys aren't as tough as you think you are," you tease.

He smirks. "Maybe we're not. Maybe I'm not - but I think it's because I'm in love with an Uptown girl."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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vandahama

1 year ago

Runaway Husband: Part Two!

Read part one first!

Clay and Maggie exchanged worried looks, neither wanting to waver in their loyalty to Jack. Part of you respected the fact that they were keeping their loyalty a focus, but the other part of you was beyond frustrated.

Clay ended up joining Maggie and staying for a few days, making himself comfortable on your pull-out couch.

An overwhelming feeling of sorrow overcame you on your last night together, the four of you had spent the last few days bonding and making memories at home. Emmett felt the sadness too, as he was fussier than normal. His loud cries echoed in the house as you bounced him in your arms, eventually calming him down enough to put him in his baby swing for a nap.

Maggie insisted on cooking as she stood at the stovetop to made dinner, immediate flashbacks of your life with Jack flooded your mind. You remembered all of the times he’d rush home from a late night at the studio and make a grilled cheese for the both of you and how you’d stay up laughing for hours on end when you both couldn’t sleep.

Your eyes filled with tears, you had done so well at suppressing your emotions while Clay and Maggie were around not wanting them to feel caught in the middle more than they already were but tonight was the hardest.

Jack was trying to reach Maggie all evening, frantically calling her no less than 10 times. He had a meeting with his lawyers and was told you would be receiving a subpoena on behalf of his ongoing court case. It was news they tried to approach him with extreme softness, knowing you were a sensitive topic but regardless he didn’t handle it well.

The lawyers he hired looked to him with sympathy, letting him know they exhausted all other avenues and that they would pick back up tomorrow as theyvwere done for the day.

Jack stayed alone in the room to collect himself for a moment. He had tried to shield you from all of this, but you were his fiancé at the time of the embezzlement so nothing was off the table. He had successfully kept the story out of the limelight, but that was no doubt going to change soon and he was overwhelmed with emotions.

Jack wasn’t able to reach Maggie, she was always his sense of comfort and the person he turned to for advice. It was rare for her to miss calls from him but she was more removed from her phone because she was around you and her grandson.

When Jack realized her location was off, he grew increasingly concerned and decided to call his dad for clarification.

Brian wasn’t the best liar and didn’t convince Jack in the slightest that his mom was out of town for a work-related conference. He sighed and quickly decided to call Clay to see if he had any insight into why their mom wasn’t answering his calls.

You watched Clay's phone buzz against the coffee table as dinner was still being made, Jack's contact name and photo appearing immediately.

“Clay- ummm your brother’s calling you” You picked his phone up, handing it to him. Your hands trembled at the possibility of hearing his voice.

Clay nervously answered, stepping outside to take the call. Within minutes he was back inside with a nervous look on his face, he had nonchalantly tossed his phone on the counter and didn’t say a word to either you or Maggie.

You could see that you were putting both Maggie and Clay in a compromising position, and you were worried that this would affect Emmett's relationship with them in the long run.

A wave of impulsion came over you, grabbing his phone and answering it as Jack's contact lit up the screen once more.

“Dude, why the fuck are you hanging up on me? I need you right now” Jack was yelling, his breathing short and shallow.

“Hey, sorry, it’s not Clay” you sighed into the phone wondering if he would recognize your voice immediately.

Maggie and Clay stayed focused on you, Emmett was babbling in his baby swing and you mouthed to Clay to keep an eye on him as you walked outside to sit on your back patio.

Jack felt like the wind got knocked out from underneath him. He was beyond panicked and hearing your voice was not what he was at all expecting.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you mirrored back, truthfully not going into this conversation with any kind of a game plan, as you anxiously picked at your nails.

“Why are you with my family?” he was beyond confused but admittedly happy to hear your voice after all this time.

“Just because we ended things doesn’t mean they have to” You let out an awkward giggle hoping to break some tension.

He laughed too, which gave you an opening.

“We have a lot to talk about but I’d rather do it in person” You didn’t feel like it was morally right to drop the “you have a son” bomb over the phone.

“I agree but I also have to tell you something now” Jack coughed nervously, his throat felt dry knowing he had to say things to you that he had been keeping a secret.

“Go ahead.” You could tell he was nervous by the tone of his voice.

Jack took a seat on his barstool in his house, “The night before we were supposed to get married I found out that someone on my team was stealing money from me.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth instinctively as he continued to speak, mentally putting the pieces together. You wondered why he wasn’t naming this person but you saved your questions.

“I’ve been trying to keep you from the embarrassment of all of this but I was told today by my lawyers that you’re going to be subpoenaed.”

Your breath hitched, “subpoenaed? Why me?” You had wondered if they thought you had anything to do with it.

“My lawyers think it would be beneficial if you were a character witness. The courts just want to know if you had witnessed anything while we were together. They want to know if I was lying about any of my finances or doing anything wrong on my end.” Everything he said sounded like one giant run-on sentence, he was nervous to talk to you and ashamed at how he handed things.

“So I’m supposed to go to court and speak to your character?” You stifled a laugh, you were still angry at how things ended, further proving you were still in love with him.

“I know, I’m sorry” he knew what you were subtly referring to.

“Is your girlfriend going to be there? Did she get subpoenaed too?” You couldn’t help but feel a wave of jealousy come over you, you’d blame it on postpartum hormones if you had to, but you knew that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“Heather? She’s not my girlfriend, we have just been hanging out. It’s just PR to make things look good” he wasn’t supposed to admit it to a single soul but he felt like he owed you that much.

“We will fly home with your brother and mom tomorrow and meet you at her house in the evening so we can talk. Sound good?” You hadn’t even realized you started the sentence off with “we” but Jack did, wondering if it was a slip of the tongue and opting not to point it out.

••••

The flight to Kentucky felt excruciatingly long, Emmett was obviously very young, and that made you a nervous wreck about everything.

You had some baby items delivered to Maggie and Brian’s house that way things were set up when you got there. You didn’t expect Jack to already be waiting inside when you arrived.

He was sitting on the family couch with his head in his hands as you noticed the bassinet you had delivered was already put together and sat in front of him.

“How long has he been here?” You whispered to Brian as he softly took Emmett from your arms.

“Long enough to build that bassinet himself” he whispered back and the family agreed to give you both the room, leaving quickly to another room in the large house.

You stood in front of Jack who had only looked up at you now, his eyes were bloodshot and his hands were trembling. Otherwise, he looked handsome as ever, he had been working out, his arms were practically bursting out of his jacket and his hair and beard were fluffy and full.

“Is that for our baby?” He stood up, forgetting how much taller he was than you making you step back at his loud tone.

“Jack- let me explain.”

“It’s a yes or no question, do we have a child together?” He was closer to you now, unaware of how intimidating he may be. He had done the math in his head and it made sense.

You reached your hand out to push him back, “I’m going to need you to sit down if you want to have this conversation with me.”

He stumbled slightly unaware you’d be pushing him off balance, but he sat down on the same couch cushion he had been sitting on when you arrived. He was looking up at you now as you stood in front of him.

“Yes, that's what I wanted to tell you in person” Before you could continue Jack jumped up, ready to go looking for Emmett but you stopped him by standing in front of him.

“Jack, please! Can you just calm down and not go barging in there and scaring your son when you meet him for the first time?” You wanted to get all the animosity out of the way first.

“We have a son?” His face softened, that was the first bit of information he had gotten from you.

“I’ll start answering your questions when you start answering mine” You handed him some tissues out of a box on the side table in the living room.

Jack quickly wiped his drippy nose, collecting himself to answer anything you wanted to know. “Ask me anything.”

“Why didn’t we get married? Did you realize you didn’t love me? That I was too “boring?” You said that last word with air quotes.

“I’ve never stopped loving you, that’s the truth” he swallowed, keeping his eyes on you as you paced around the living room in front of him. You were wearing a long-sleeved purple body suit and black leggings, and new balances, a comfortable airport outfit but he still thought you looked beautiful.

“You’re still deflecting” You had zero patience for his lack of immediate answers.

“I don’t think you’re boring either” he laughed having to clarify. “The night before our wedding I found out that someone was stealing significant amounts of money from me and I didn’t want to get you involved. It was something I should’ve caught a long time ago but with the album and our wedding I was just distracted and it all came crumbling down so fast.”

You finally sat down, across from him as he spoke about the truth for the first time to you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? It doesn’t make any sense to me. I was your fiancé, we were going to get married!” Your emotions were getting the better of you, as your voice was raised.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought it would be easier if you didn’t know” and it dawned on you why things had become so complicated. Your mind was racing knowing of one possibility that would absolutely break your heart.

“My sister? Is it my sister?” You started to piece everything that had happened within the last year together now.

Your sister was already working for Jack and was the reason you two had met in the first place, this was her first “big girl job” and you and your family had assumed she was finally getting her life together.

Jack nodded confirming what you suspected, tears rolling down his cheeks.

When Jack called off your engagement, your sister stopped speaking to you and your parents, claiming you ruined all opportunities that came your way and that this would affect the both of you. She wasn’t even aware of your pregnancy, what was meant to be your wedding day was the day you lost both Jack and your older sister.

Your parents were never phased by her absence as she had always had a checkered past, so they never questioned why she disappeared since she had done it so many times before.

“You warned me to keep an eye on her and I just ignored it because she was your sister and I thought my team would catch any inconsistencies. Before the wedding I had them look into everything one last time for the sake of saying I did it but then they found out she was stealing from me and I didn’t know how to tell you…” He started to sob, a weight had been lifted telling you the truth but he felt regretful for missing out on so much. He was attempting to ramble through his tears as you stood up from your seat to approach him, kneeling to hold him as his muscular frame shook in your arms.

Jack loosely wrapped his arms around your body as you slowly stood up and instinctively wrapped yourself around him by sitting on his lap, holding one another through tears.

“I haven’t talked to her since that day. She doesn’t even know about Emmett” You nervously played with a stray curl, making him look up at you.

“His name is Emmett?” A small smile broke across his face, a twinkle in his bloodshot eyes that wasn’t there before appeared.

“Do you want to meet him?” You slowly stood up, embarrassingly realizing you had made it into his lap.

Jack nodded and you both walked down the hallway, lightly knocking on the door as Jack nervously followed behind you.

Maggie carefully handed Emmett to you. Jack made sure he was sitting down before you let him hold Emmett, the family leaving you both alone once again.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” He sniffled as he looked down at his son who was fast asleep after a long day of crying.

“You had already decided you didn’t want to be married, you told me you didn’t love me and that you needed to be with someone on your level. Why would I force you to pick me or raise a family with me for that matter?”

“You know now that wasn’t true right?” He finally looked up from Emmett to look at you. “Did you know that you were pregnant when…?” He didn’t want to finish that sentence and you knew that.

“I didn’t, not until a few weeks later” you shrugged, moving the blanket down from Emmett’s chin.

“He looks just like me” Jack chuckled, looking at you sympathetically “Sorry about that.”

You laughed, feeling the tension slowly dissipate at his comment. “It’s okay, it made me feel close to you.”

Jack smiled, finding comfort in the fact that you said that. “I’m sorry that I made things worse. I thought I was helping by keeping you from it and I didn’t know you were pregnant or that would’ve changed how I reacted.”

“Would it?” You were still hurt, and trying to suppress your need to subtly throw jabs at him.

“Yes, and I’m sorry” he couldn’t manage to say anything else, knowing he didn’t have a rebuttal.

“Anything I can do to make this easier, I will. If I have to go to court for you, I’ll do it. I always would’ve” You wanted that to be clear.

“I didn’t think it was fair of me to ask that of you. I tried everything to keep this out of your life” he sighed and you heard a knock on the door, Clay was wheeling the bassinet into the room for the both of you.

“Thank you” you hummed as he nodded and quickly left. You helped Jack carefully set Emmett down inside of it, his paternal instincts quickly kicking in as he sat on the bed next to the bassinet to keep a close eye.

“It’s not just about you and me anymore. You’re his dad and I want to make sure you’re okay. I’ll do whatever I have to and we can meet with your lawyers tomorrow” You sat on the bed beside him.

“Even if it means testifying against your sister?”

“I don’t have a sister as far as I’m concerned” you spoke to him as blunt as you could about that, wanting him to know you meant it.

“She stole a lot of money, and will likely go to prison for a long time. What if your parents don’t agree with your decision?” Jack was worried you’d change your mind once family weighed in.

“My parents won’t be upset with me, my sister has been causing chaos in their lives since she was a teenager. If anything they’ll just be happy you know about Emmett” You smiled, looking at your baby who was sound asleep.

“I just don’t want to lose you again, or him” Jack was immediately in love, but the reality set in quicker than anticipated.

“You won’t. You might want to call your lawyers first thing tomorrow and let them know you have a son though” you laughed, wondering if that would affect anything.

“I’m just glad I can stop hanging out with Heather” Jack nudged you with his shoulder knowing you were jealous when you mentioned her earlier.

“I like the sound of that” You leaned into him with your shoulder. He turned to you, his hands cupped your face as he went in for a kiss, something he had wanted to do from the moment you walked into the house.

Jack leaned back on the bed, grabbing your thighs and pulling you on top of him as Emmett was still asleep nearby.

“Jack- we can’t” you moaned between kisses, missing the touch of his hands more now than before.

“I just want to kiss you” he pleaded between moans, his kisses growing more and more sloppy as you straddled him, your fingers entangled in his curls.

You had no idea you had fallen asleep until Emmett woke you with his cries. Jack immediately rolled over, shushing you to go back to sleep as he kneeled to look for formula in the diaper bag on the floor.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” You whispered as he took a bottle from your bag, a look of worry came over him that you found endearing.

“I’ll show you” You picked Emmett up and held him against your hip as you walked with Jack to the kitchen, showing him the steps and how to test if the milk was too warm.

“I’m sorry you’ve been doing this all alone” he whispered, knowing he had a lot of things to catch up on. He bent down to quickly kiss you before testing the formula on his wrist.

“I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this alone” you replied, referring to his impending court case.

“I wasn’t alone, I had Heather” he teased, making you roll your eyes as he giggled behind you and back to the bedroom.

“Don’t make me fly back home, you’re still on thin ice” you teased back, earning a scoff from Jack.

“Stop playing, this is your home now” he hummed, taking Emmett from you as he fed him for the first time. He flashed you a big bright smile, letting you know he was serious and you found all the comfort you needed in hearing that.

••••••

A/N: Special thanks to @vanwritesfan-fiction for helping me brainstorm the storyline for this part. I appreciate you so much.

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vandahama

2 years ago

21K notes View Post

vandahama

1 year ago

arranged marriage with Rafe Cameron

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◆ you've known you would marry him since you were children. your parents had made the deal and you couldn't do anything against it.

◆ but Rafe never tried to get to know you much. he wasn't really interested in you, and you not as much in him either.

◆ still you stuck up for each other when you needed to. like when your ex threatened to post your nudes, Rafe took care of it, bc he knew it would taint his image in the process if anything like that was to happen to you.

◆ you hung out with mutual friends sometimes, your best friends being in relationships with Topper and Kelce for some time didn't leave you much choice there

◆ you didn't like his dealing, or how the coke made him act. but you didn't dare say a word about it to no one.

◆ as soon as High School was over the wedding was scheduled and the engagement announced

◆ no one but the two of you and your family had known, which meant that your friends were both excited for you and also a bit angry for never telling them the truth

◆ your floor length bridal gown was a sight for sore eyes, and even Rafe had to admit to himself that he could've gotten it way worse.

◆ it was a nice wedding, and you did your best to act more than friendly towards the man who was now your husband

◆ you danced with him, cut the cake, laughed and posed for pictures. picture perfect just like everyone expected it of you.

◆ and Rafe did the same, and more. for some reason he found it difficult to actually take his eyes off of you.

◆ he didn't like this new feeling that started brewing inside him. the idea that he might actually not need his plan B of having multiple flings on the side just to survive a marriage with you.

◆ no, the way you smiled at the flower girl and how you looked up at him through your long lashes, how gracefully you moved over the dancefloor and made it look like you were in fact floating and the way had not yet restored back to your usual shot drinking to survive a function (something he had picked up on in the last few months of having to plan a wedding with you). all of you made him be more and more interested in you, and that was what really confused him.

◆ he was never the type of guy to fall for anyone just because they looked pretty and smiled politely. but for some reason you did it all and he didn't mind it.

◆ when the night ended and you got to your hotel room, you made it clear to him that you wouldn't sleep with him. ever.

◆ Rafe actually respected your wishes and took the second bed that was part of the huge suit they had booked.

◆ but this just led to him watching you take off the dress and be left with the most daringly beautiful lingerie set he had ever laid his blue eyes upon

◆ you liked dangling yourself in front of him, making him see what he could never have because you had promised yourself to not give into it.

◆ he was your husband, but only on paper.

◆ that's how you found yourself lying in an empty bed, with him across the room from you, similarly lonely tucked into his sheets while doing boring small talk

◆ it was like a very bad first date. the bad part being mostly the fact that it wasn't a date at all, but your wedding night.

◆ you spent the whole honeymoon slowly getting to know each other and not trying to fight him on every little thing he did wrong in your eyes.

◆ once you got back home your friends were bludgeoning you with questions about how he was but you just shrugged and pretended to not care

◆ you didn't wanna tell them that you had secretly started to actually like him and that your body seemed to do even more than that.

◆ it took a whole year for the both of you to admit your feelings to each other. you caving in first and being scared shitless while confessing your love to him.

◆ and to your own and his surprise Rafe said it back instantly, no thoughts about it or anything. it was like he had just waited for you to do it.

◆ that night you slept together for the first time and you were more than impressed by him.

◆ it was like your actual honeymoon had finally started because the both of you wouldn't be seen outside of your own house and estate for a whole month.

◆ you were like bunnies, fucking anywhere and everywhere no matter what or who might be watching.

◆ the staff was scared to even walk into a room without having their eyes closed first.

◆ and over the years some might've hoped you would stop or take a break from how much the two of you wanted each other, but that was not the case.

◆ and with two kids running around and a third one on the way, Rafe was still not satisfied and he was already planning how to knock you up for a fourth and fifth and maybe even sixth time.

◆ for someone who had hated the idea of marrying a near stranger, Rafe and you really were a perfect match in every possible way

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