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orionwhispers · 4 years

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Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals.

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

#tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby oneshot

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yoddream · 3 years

Text

You and Jeno were the best of friends. Growing up together, you saw each other’s good and bad moments, learned every flaw, and knew every fact. It was hard to separate the two of you, even in high school. You even started attending the same college. There wasn’t a single friend one had that the other didn’t.

Then, Jeno got a girlfriend.

There was nothing wrong with Yeeun. She was an absolute sweetheart and was always so nice to you. She made Jeno really happy, which was all you ever wanted. The problem was that Jeno seemed to give her all his time. It started out small, with him ditching you some days for lunch to have it with her instead. Then, he wouldn’t be able to make it to a hangout with your friends because he was taking her on a date. That turned into him canceling at the last minute. Soon, every lunch was spent with Yeeun. He stopped responding in the group chat as much. Sometimes he would leave you on read.

The last straw was him not showing up to movie night anymore, only to show up the next day with a bunch of hickeys on his neck. Movie nights started when you guys were toddlers. They were sacred and only canceled for emergencies or an illness. If anyone was on vacation, you would FaceTime and watch together. There was no excuse for him to miss movie nights.

That one broke you.

You couldn’t count how many times Jaemin held you as you cried yourself to sleep, knowing you’d practically lost your best friend. You hadn’t hung out with him in a long time, and it felt like a part of you was missing. It was obvious the others were worried about you, but they felt helpless. The bags under your eyes refused to disappear. You ate, but it wasn’t very much. You fell into a deep depression, and they did everything they could to get you out of it.

Were you too reliant on Jeno? Probably, but this wasn’t somebody you’d met recently; this was somebody you’d potty trained with, someone who gave you his stuffed dog when an older kid pushed you off the jungle gym and broke your arm, somebody who knew every secret you had. He was very special to you, and just like that, he was gone.

///

Jeno: hey, wanna get ice cream?

The text stared back at you. You rubbed at your eyes to make sure it wasn’t a dream, and sure enough, it was still on your screen, waiting for a response. You hadn’t showered in almost a week, which you knew annoyed Haechan because he had to smell you all the time since he was your roommate, and your face was covered in acne. You looked like this, and he suddenly wanted to hang out? Normally, you didn’t care how you looked when you hung out with your friends, but this was different. Jeno could see that you weren’t doing well, and you didn’t want that.

Wait.

You knew why he wanted to hang out.

He and Yeeun broke up.

That was the only explanation. Why else would he try to make plans? The last time you hung out alone was almost three months ago. You really only saw him when the group made plans and he wasn’t canceling to be with Yeeun. Why you, though? Why not the whole group?

You: yeah gimme an hour

When he sent a thumbs up emoji, you threw your phone down and raced to the bathroom. You took extra time in the shower to make sure everything was washed and fresh before getting out. Once you were dressed, you put on makeup, making sure to cover all the acne on your face. After deeming yourself presentable, you texted Jeno to ask where you were going for ice cream. He suggested the place near your apartment, so you grabbed your things and headed out, glad that Haechan wasn’t there to question you.

The ice cream place wasn’t far, but Jeno still managed to get there before you. As you approached him, you debated giving him a hug or not. It’s been so long, you didn’t know if it was okay anymore. It sounded insane, but his change in behavior made you question every action.

“Hey!” Jeno greeted you with his bright smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he still looked adorable. You waved to him and reached for the door, but he beat you to it and held it open for you.

The inside of the ice cream shop was cute, with pastel walls and cartoon cows painted on the counter. The tables were a light pink with white legs, and same with the chairs. It was small, but you two loved going there. You ordered and paid before bringing your cups to the table Jeno chose. He thanked you and dug in, not hesitating to eat his feelings.

“So, you and Yeeun broke up?” you asked.

He stopped eating. “How did you know?”

You paused. How could you explain it without either hurting his feelings or getting into an argument? Telling him the truth would surely change the vibe, and not for the better. “...Lucky guess.”

“Huh. Well, yeah. She broke up with me. I don’t even know why, though. She refused to tell me,” he explained, stabbing his spoon into his ice cream. “Like, was it something I did? Is it something I need to work on so that my next relationship lasts?”

“You think you won’t get back together?” you questioned.

He shrugged. “I mean, if she wants to, then I will, but that’s also if I still want to date her by the time she decided. It just sucks, because I thought things were going well. The sex was great, we got along really well, and we never fought. To be dumped just like that is just very strange.”

You winced at the comment about their sex lives, not really wanting to know in the first place. It did seem very out of the blue for her to break up with him, but you tried not to dwell too much on it. It would only upset him more.

The two of you caught up, but it seemed like he didn’t realize just how absent he was from your life. He asked about your classes and your family, wondering how they were doing since he hadn’t seen them in a while. You asked the same and also questioned if he’d made any friends, which he hadn’t. So all his time was spent with just Yeeun, it seemed.

When it was time to head back to your apartment, Jeno hugged you goodbye before heading the opposite direction. Your feet dragged, your body screaming for you to return to Jeno and get as much attention from him as possible, but you had homework you needed to work on, so you continued home.

///

“Jesus, just like that?” Jaemin asked Jeno.

The two of them were hanging out at Jaemin’s apartment, playing video games and talking about the break up. When Jaemin found out, he immediately called the other man and invited him over. They were catching up on things when Jaemin had asked about the break up, and Jeno told him everything.

“Just like that. No explanation. How the hell am I supposed to feel about that? Angry? Sad? I need something so I know how to process it,” Jeno ranted.

“Who else knows?”

“Well, Y/N figured it out when we went out for ice cream.”

“Wait, you hung out with Y/N?” Jaemin asked.

“Is it really that surprising?”

“Considering you practically dropped her, yeah.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dude, ever since you and Yeeun started dating, you’ve bailed on all your plans with Y/N. We tried to get her to give up, but she still had hope.”

Jeno’s heart started to race. Surely he didn’t do that to his best friend, right? Pulling out his phone, he opened his texts with you, and his stomach dropped at all the times he canceled on you, said he already had plans, or just left you on read. For months, you put up with it without saying a word to him. For months, you tried to keep your friendship going, and what did he do? Nothing.

“I’ve gotta go,” Jeno stated as he ran towards the door.

“What? Where are you going?” Jaemin called out.

“I need to fix this.”

Without elaborating, Jeno left the apartment and ran down the stairs. When he got outside, he hopped into his car and sped to your place. He couldn’t believe he did that. No wonder you seemed a little uncomfortable the other day. You didn’t know how to act around him anymore. He really fucked up.

Before he knew it, he was knocking on your apartment door. It took a few seconds, but then you were looking at him with wide eyes, clearly not expecting him to be standing there. He took in the dark circles under your eyes and the stress acne he knew you got whenever you were depressed and said, “I’ve been a really bad friend, haven’t I?”

The tears fell before it even registered that your eyes were watering. Soon, you were sobbing into Jeno’s shoulder as he stepped in and tried to soothe you. You started to hyperventilate, the emotions overwhelming you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. It’s okay, though I’m here now,” he stated, repeating his words softly.

He managed to move the two of you to your room, lying on your bed with you wrapped in his arms. You continued to cry, and it surprised you that you had any tears left. He rubbed your back and pressed kisses to your hair, just like he did whenever your depression got really bad. He felt extremely guilty for being the cause of your tears and sadness.

“I missed you so much,” you whined.

“I missed you too I’m so sorry I ditched you. I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

///

Dreamies (plus Y/N)

Haechan: (picture of you and Jeno sleeping in your bed with Jeno wrapped around you like a koala)

Haechan: all is right in the world again.

Jaemin: oh, that’s where he went.

Mark: Finally! I’m glad they’re working things out

Renjun: Good. I was really concerned about her

Chenle: look at Renjun having feelings

Haechan: gross

Jisung: seeing her cry made me cry so i’m glad they’re talking again

Chenle: you big baby

part two is here

#nct #nct dream #jeno #lee jeno #nct imagine #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagine #nct jeno #nct dream jeno #jeno imagines #lee jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #lee jeno scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios

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luvdsc · 4 years

Text

too hot! hot damn!

what do you get when you mix red and blue together?

pairing :: lee taeyong x reader genre :: fluff / boyfriend au word count :: 2,121 words warnings :: a tiny paragraph about making out playlist :: cherry kisses (chungha) ⋆ daft pretty boys (bad suns) ⋆ hands on me (taeyeon) ⋆ crash my car (coin) ⋆ shy (hunny) author’s note :: to the insanely talented goddess who wrote the first nct fic i ever read nearly 3 years ago and still love to this day!!! i didn’t think i’d ever get to be friends with one of my favoritest writers on here, but here we are :’) ily els @taeyongtime ♡

“It’s hot.”

You’re draped across the old, yet still very plush couch, the kitschy pattern spread across it now fondly regarded as one of the things that transforms this dingy little place from a shoebox apartment into home. The thin spaghetti strap of your faded tie-dyed tank top from your old sorority days hangs limply off of your shoulder, threatening to fall even more when you slump over to the left. The simple drawstring shorts you have on barely cover your legs, but you contemplate tossing them off still because it’s just. So. Damn. Hot.

“It’s hot!” you whine even louder, throwing your arms up in the air before letting them flop down onto the cushions dramatically. The nearby open window only blows in a measly little breeze that does nothing except dry the sweat on your skin for a few glorious seconds before it reappears like a stubborn stain. Your boyfriend only raises an eyebrow at you from his spot on the floor, sprawled out in front of said window and using one of his Nylon magazines as a makeshift fan.

Taeyong agrees, flapping the glossy pages in front of his face desperately. “It’s too hot.”

Two days consisting of barely surviving the power outage creeps into a third, the prospect of having AC again anytime soon becoming extremely bleak. The transformer had completely blown out, and the electric company finally sent out a crew to fix it earlier this morning. The estimated restoration was initially set to noon, but it was pushed back until 3 p.m., then 6 p.m., then 10 p.m., then 5 a.m., and now the big black bolded letters spelling out “undetermined” mocks you from the screen of your phone that's already set to the lowest brightness setting to conserve battery.

To make it worse, your city was suffering a heat wave, temperatures spiking to 105 degrees Fahrenheit every single day and simmering down to 80 during the night before climbing the thermostat again. The raging thunderstorm that plagued last night only resulted in unexpected humidity, making your clothes stick to you like a second skin.

“Make it less hot,” you moan, blowing air upwards towards your forehead in an attempt to cool down in the slightest way possible.

“I can’t control the weather, babe, but I can get you a popsicle?” Taeyong sluggishly pushes himself into a sitting position to face you. The shiny magazine in his hand still flounders around until he gives up on it and tosses it aside.

You turn your head, cheek pressing into the couch cushion, as you squint at him. “We don’t have any left. We took all our food from the fridge to Doyoung’s place. I can’t believe that bastard has a gigantic generator and is flourishing in his stupid air conditioned apartment and making frozen sangrias, while his best friends are about to die from heatstroke.”

You had sent back a rather crass Snapchat back to Doyoung after he sent one earlier of his perfect, Instagram story worthy, iced alcoholic beverage. It’s honestly a miracle that he didn’t toss your beloved brown sugar boba ice cream bars out onto his pristine balcony with picture perfect potted plants to perish. That man can still hold onto a grudge even after he’s on his deathbed and descending into the fiery pits.

Taeyong stands up and slowly ambles towards the refrigerator. “I saved two popsicles in the freezer. I figured it’d stay cold enough and not melt if we ate them soon.”

“Oh my god, that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You struggle to push yourself up into a sitting position before finally being able to, watching your boyfriend open the freezer and pull out the last two saving graces.

“Do you want blue raspberry or cherry?”

He holds out the two icy sweets in front of you, one in each hand. You already know that he secretly wants the red one; it’s been his favorite ever since he was five and tried his very first one from the ice cream truck that still comes around his parents’ neighborhood. But you also know that he always lets you choose first and wouldn’t complain if you take that one.

You reach out and pluck the blue one from his grasp, and he smiles happily, eyes crinkling in the corners as he eagerly unwraps the cherry flavored one and shoves it in his mouth, tossing the wrapper into the nearby wicker trash basket.

He drops down onto the empty space next to you, reclining back and slouching in his seat. The two of you sit there peacefully, side by side and enjoying the cold snacks, until he wordlessly slides over, pressing the side of his arm and leg against yours.

“Move back,” you complain, shoving him over to his original position. “It’s hot, and you’re making it worse.”

“So are you calling me hot?” Taeyong wriggles his eyebrows at you before taking a bite of his popsicle, much to your horror. He moves closer to you again for the sole sake of annoying you.

“First off, I’m calling you sweaty. Secondly, did you just bite your ice cream?” You throw him a dirty look before moving over and turning to sit with your back against the arm rest, throwing your legs over his lap.

Taeyong slightly pouts at you, munching on yet another chunk of his popsicle and ignoring the way you wrinkle your nose in disdain. “What’s wrong with that? It’s melting, and I don’t want it to drip and get my hand all sticky.”

You can’t believe that you just discovered your boyfriend is a psychopath. He’s going to the same circle of hell as people who pour milk in before cereal and those who hate mint chocolate chip ice cream once he leaves this earth (He can even say hi to Doyoung as he descends to eternal damnation).

“Why didn’t you say anything about this before we started dating?” You are absolutely appalled. Horrified. Disgusted. This is the biggest relationship deal breaker you have ever come across.

“Next, you’re gonna say you hate me because I don’t like pineapple on pizza,” he says as his free hand settles on the top of your thigh, gently tapping rhythmically against it absentmindedly.

“Oh my god, you absolute heathen.” You really thought Taeyong was the perfect man of your dreams, but you unfortunately realize belatedly that even he has flaws. Some inexcusable ones, in fact.

In the midst of your lamenting, you fail to notice melting sugar slowly trickling down until it leaves a sticky mess all over your hand. Desperately, you toss the empty popsicle stick into the nearby waste basket before licking off the remnants of your icy blue treat from your fingers.

“See? It melted all over you. I told you so,” Taeyong childishly sticks out his tongue as he waves his clean hand and empty popsicle stick around as if to emphasize his point.

“Your tongue’s red,” you say, chuckling slightly, and his eyes widen at this newfound revelation.

“Wait, stick out your tongue,” he demands as he throws away the wooden stick, and you comply with his request. He grins, delighted. “Yours is blue!”

He sticks out his tongue again, almost going cross eyed as he tries to catch a glimpse of his own. At that, your eyes zero in on his cherry stained lips, and an ingenious idea pops up in your mind as the sudden urge to kiss your boyfriend silly makes itself very known.

“Hey, wanna play a game, Yongie?” you ask slyly, and his attention immediately turns to you at the word “game,” interest piqued and eyes fixated on you.

“What kind of game?” he inquires cautiously, taking note of the mischievous glimmer in your eyes. You look like you’re up to no good, and your boyfriend wouldn’t be surprised if you have something up your metaphorical sleeve (Because nobody sane enough would be wearing something with sleeves in this weather from hell. In fact, you’re 66.6% percent certain that those fiery pits are probably cooler compared to here).

“Too hot.”

“Yes, it is,” he acknowledges, shaking his head in agreement, and you laugh, fanning yourself with your hands. “No, silly, I meant the game.”

“It’s called ‘too hot’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you confirm, nodding your head. The expression of skepticism on his face says it all, so you throw in your bargaining chip.

“I hid a chocolate bar in the freezer’s ice chest. The winner can have it.”

His doe eyes immediately light up at the mention of his favorite sweet, and he grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Okay, how do I play?”

“We kiss,” you start, and he’s already pulling you towards him enthusiastically, causing soft laughter to bubble up from your throat, before you swat his hands away. “Hey, hey, hey, I wasn’t done explaining it yet! There’s no touching allowed.”

“That’s no fun,” Taeyong whines, lips jutting out into a tiny pout that you want to kiss away already. “You said this is a game. Games are supposed to be fun.”

“But you’re getting kisses, and it’s already hot so it’s better this way,” you coax, and he relents with a drawn out sigh, and you quietly cheer. “Okay, ready?”

Taeyong gives you a tiny nod, and you grin before leaning in, eyes fluttering close. You gently place your lips against his, and he holds still. But then, a few seconds later, you feel his fingers barely grazing your cheek, and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“Baby, I told you that you can’t touch!”

“That rule is dumb,” he complains, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. You frown at him, pouting until he gives in again because it’s you and he’d cross oceans and climb mountains for you.

“Okay, let’s try again,” he grumbles, glowering as he absentmindedly cards his hand through his hair, and you positively beam at him, and the sulking expression on his face softens almost instantly.

“What if we do baby steps first?” You pull your legs up onto the couch, sitting up on your knees and facing him. He fully turns to look at you, head cocked to one side.

“What do you mean?”

You lean forward and peck his cheek before moving back to your original position. “Like that. Now your turn.”

A lightbulb goes off in his head, and Taeyong leans forward and gingerly places a kiss on your forehead with an endearing smile. You inch forward and kiss his other cheek. He plants a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose, and you lean in to delicately leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and you do the same to the opposite side, much to his utter frustration.

This time, Taeyong chases after you when you pull away. You let out a noise of surprise as he gently tugs you forward, crashing his lips against yours and muffling your laughter, and you find yourself straddling your boyfriend. Your hands wind up tangled in his hair, while his arms lock around your waist and hold you close, game be damned.

You can taste a faint trace of cherry, causing the corners of your mouth to curl into the minutest hint of a smile before you press your mouth against his more firmly as he kisses you back eagerly until you both run out of air, pulling away breathlessly with identical smiles.

“You lost,” you tease, poking his cheek with your finger as your other hand curls around his shirt. He makes a face at you, his hands still resting on your waist, and you find that you don’t mind the warmth of them against your skin even in this ruthlessly blazing weather.

“But you’ll share the chocolate, right?” he mumbles, face still flushed and lips redder than before. He traces soft patterns against your hip as you tilt your head to the side, faking your hesitation.

“Hmm, I don’t know, should I? I won fair and square.”

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Meanie.”

You laugh, sliding off his lap and onto the empty seat next to him (albeit a little unwillingly, but it’s still hot as hell unfortunately, and conserving body heat together isn’t helping at all). Your boyfriend frowns, mostly because you’re no longer sitting in his lap, but partly because he doesn’t understand why you’re laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Your grin widens, eyes sparkling like you know something he doesn’t (because you do). “Baby, your tongue’s purple.”

Taeyong turns a shade brighter than his favorite popsicle flavor.

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lovely-angst · 4 years

Text

It’s a date

10.13.20

it’s good to be back in kacchan’s arms

It had officially been over a year since your break up with Bakugou.

The end of your relationship had become rocky and the two of you just couldn’t keep the relationship stable no matter how hard you tried. Though it was mutual, you thought you could heal and move on after a few weeks, but here you were, a year later, still hung up on the man.

You learned to slowly understand that whatever the two of you had, it was in the past and that it was time to move on. The single life wasn’t terrible either, but somehow, you found yourself thinking about how much more fun running simple errands would be with Bakugou.

It didn’t help much that the two of you still went to school together, thankfully, in different classes. It also didn’t help much that all of your classmates knew of the previous relationship. It seemed as if everyone was rooting for the relationship—how devastating it must have been to hear the news.

Thankfully, being a third year in the hero course kept you busy enough to keep your mind from wandering back to Bakugou. Though lately, you’d been thinking about him a lot.

You would hear from some friends about how Bakugou was doing, how he would get amazing internships with some amazing heroes. Of course, he would, he was just that great.

It didn’t help much that you would see him in the hallways from time to time or when your classes would meetup to train. Did he always look so cool when he wore his hero costume? You weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to keep on thinking about him.

The relationship ended for a reason, there was no point on going back.

” Hey, (Name)?” Hearing your name called, you glanced upwards to find a few of your friends with large grins on their faces. “So we know you’ve been single for a while now, but I thought I could set you up on a blind date this weekend? What do you say?”

Your eyes widened as you blinked at them, speechless. “Blind date?” you repeat, still in disbelief.

Giggling, she nodded, “Don’t worry, he’s no creep. He’s actually in the hero course at Shiketsu High,” she informs, but the hesitant and worried expression doesn’t leave your face. “He said he’d love to meet you, I think you should give it a try,” she says with a small, supportive smile and you couldn’t help but give in.

With a sigh, you nodded, “Fine, I’ll go.” You had no intention of pursuing another serious relationship, but it didn’t hurt to meet new people.

So, here you were, standing in the busy city of Tokyo as you glanced down at your phone for the hundredth time—an hour passed your meetup time. Sighing, you quickly shot your friend a text, giving her an update of the date like she had asked.

‘Got stood up :^\’

Putting your phone away, you glanced down at the outfit you had put together for the date you were supposed to go on. And to think you tried to dress up a little nicer too.

Trying to calm the building anger inside of you, you found an empty bench away from the hustle and bustle of the city. As soon as you sat down, you couldn’t help but begin to pity yourself.

“I knew today would be perfect for some icecream!” Kirishima exclaims happily, walking out of the ice cream shop before chomping into his icecream cone before letting out a pained scream over sensitive teeth.

Bakugou rolled his eyes as he held his simple vanilla cone in one hand. Though he’d hate to admit it, Kirishima was right. Today was a good day for some ice cream, especially from how busy he was in the past week. He deserved a well relaxed day like today.

Just as Bakugou was about to dig into his icecream, Kirishima spoke up, “Hey, isn’t that (Name)?”

His red eyes shot up to where his friend was pointing before he laid eyes on you alone on the bench, looking quite, dejected.

“I wonder what she’s doing all alone?” Kirishima questioned curiously as the pair watched you from across the street. “Date gone wrong?”

“As if,” Bakugou scoffed, stuffing a free hand into his pocket. “Why don’t you go talk to her? Ask her if she’s okay?” Kirishima suggests, but Bakugou glances at him with narrowed eyes. “What? Why me?”

Kirishima shrugs, “You know her better, plus you’re just asking her if she’s okay!” Bakugou glared at his friend before clicking his tongue annoyingly, turning away to walk in your direction.

“I’ll swing by in a few minutes!” Kirishima replied as bit into his ice cream once more.

Each step Bakugou took, he wanted to turn back and tell Kirishima that approaching you was a stupid idea, but before he knew it, he was already standing in front of you.

Noting a pair of shoes slide into your view, you raise your head to find Bakugou staring down at you, thinking intensely. Before you could manage a greeting, Bakugou interrupts the silence.

“Why are you looking all depressed here alone like someone who had just been ghosted on a date?” He questions and you know it was his way of trying to be comforting, but all you could do was sigh and give him a shrug, a sad smile on your lips.

“Well, I have. Just got stood up today,” Bakugou’s eyes narrow before you glance back down at your nails, “It’s not a big deal though, it was a blind date my friend set me on, so I don’t know the guy, but I wasn’t expected to be stood up.”

Bakugou stared down at you before deciding to settle down beside you, a good length keeping the two of you apart.

“Blind date or not, it doesn’t matter,” Bakugou glances at you before offering you his icecream, “Here, I haven’t touched it yet. You seem to need it more than I do,” he says gently, your eyes wide as you focus on the vanilla swoop.

“What? Just because I’m a girl, you think I need some ice cream to cheer me up?” You say playfully, taking the ice cream from his hands before giving it a lick.

“Don’t act like you never ate ice cream when you were upset,” he snickers and you give him a small smile.

“Hey bro!” hearing a voice call out, you notice Kirishima running towards the two of you with a wave. “Oh hey, (Name)! How have you been?”

“I’ve been better,” Kirishima frowns at your response, “sorry to hear. Well, if it makes you feel any better, Bakubro here can spend the day with you. We were gonna hang, but Kaminari sent me this urgent message telling me to meet up with him at the arcade to play some DDR, so gotta run!”

With a wave, he sped off, leaving you alone with Bakugou once more. You glanced over at Bakugou, who looked just as confused and slightly irritated at the news.

“You don’t have to hang out with me, you can head home, I’ll be fine,” you say, standing up, Bakugou following your actions. “You have the rest of the day free, let’s go for some lunch. I haven’t had anything to eat yet.”

A smile forms on your lips as you give him a nod, “I haven’t either, lunch sounds great.”

Walking side by side with Bakugou was comforting, like all those days ago when the two of you used to date. Granted, it was sort of awkward because the two of you are no longer in a relationship.

Tossing the last piece of the cone in your mouth, you glance up at Bakugou, “Hey, thanks for the ice cream. I guess I needed it more than I thought,” you say, Bakugou giving you his signature shrug.

“It’s nothing. Didn’t know you were going on dates with guys you didn’t know, didn’t anybody tell you about stranger danger?” he joked, causing you to frown at him. “I only accepted the date because my friend was really bugging me to go. Plus, she said he was a good guy and he is in the hero course as Shiketsu, so how bad can he be?”

Rolling his eyes, Bakugou scoffed, “He stood you up, so much for a good guy,” Ignoring his comment, the two of you made it to a tonkatsu curry shop before settling down to order.

“What can I get you two?” The waitress asked, pouring the two of you some water. Bakugou studied the menu in his hands for a minute before speaking up, “One spicy tonkatsu curry for me and one mild for her,” he states, handing the menu back.

“Sure thing,” as soon as she was a good distance away, you gawked at Bakugou, “How’d you know that’s what I was going to order?”

“I know you can’t handle your spice as good as me,” he states nonchalantly, “I guess you haven’t changed much.” Crossing your arms, watching him drink his water, “Oh yeah? Since when?”

“Since we last dated, obviously.” Hearing those words come from him, your cheeks flush lightly before you grabbed your water for a quick sip. “Getting shy there, princess?”

His teasing caused your face to flush more and noticeably this time. He still knows how to wrap you around his finger.

You didn’t think Bakugou was going to stick with you for the rest of the day, opting out to head home sometime after lunch, but here he was, standing beside you with a warm cup of hot chocolate in his hand, watching the sun go down with you.

“This shit is too sweet,” Bakugou complained as he finished taking a sip of the sweet drink. “You didn’t have to get that drink, Bakugou,” you reminded, keeping your hands warm on the cup.

“Yeah, but you kept going on and on about how good this drink was. It couldn’t be that good and I still stand corrected,” he shot back, you rolling your eyes with a snort. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Just as Bakugou was about to shoot another comment, the street lights and the hanging lights that hung around the trees lit up as the sun finally went down. Your eyes widened with an excited squeak left your lips.

Your hand fell onto Bakugou’s forearm as you looked around delighted, “Katsuki, isn’t it pretty?”

His heart jumped at the sound of your voice calling his name. He thought he was never going to hear you call for him again, but it sounded just as lovely as it did before.

Maybe even more so now than before.

“Katsuki?” He repeated, your head turning to glance up at the male. Jumping at the realization, you quickly removed your hand from him before settling it on your cup, pushing your hair away from your face embarrassed.

“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to call you by your name! It just-”

“It just what?”

With your lips pressed in a tight line, you tried not to show your panicking heart as you held your cup tightly. Though you felt so small and embarrassed from being caught, a rush of bravery flew through you.

“It reminded me of the dates we used to go on when we were together,” you confessed, glancing back over at the beautifully lit street.

Bakugou was glad you weren’t focused on him right now, you’d see how flushed he’d become from your words because you were right—it did feel like a date from the time the two of you were together.

A ringing fell upon the quiet silence between the two of you before you reached into your pocket to pull out your phone, your face falling from a quick read of the message.

“My mom wants me home now,” you say, trying to hide the sadness in your voice. “I’ll walk you to the station,” Bakugou quickly chimed in, your smile soothing the ache in his heart.

The walk to the station was a quiet one as the two of you walked together no words exchanged. “Everything was going so well until I had to screw up and call him by his first name. Now he definitely knows I’m not over him after a whole year!” you scream mentally.

“Thanks for hanging out with me today, Bakugou. I’m actually glad I got stood up for once,” you say, trying to lighten the mood as the two of you stood outside the station.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, one hand stuffed in his pocket as the other held his not so hot, hot chocolate. “See you sometime,” you say, giving him one last smile before turning to walk into the station.

“(Name),” Bakugou called out, watching you turn around, “I’m free next weekend if you are, for another cup of hot chocolate,” he says, watching the smile grow on your face.

“I thought you didn’t like hot chocolate?” you chuckle and Bakugou gives you a shrug, “Guess we have to find the perfect cup, huh?” Another giggle escapes your lips, fueling Bakugou’s heart.

“So, it’s a date?” you ask curiously with a playful smile, awaiting his response. “It’s a date.” Raising his cup, you followed in suit, raising your cup as well, “See you next weekend!” you say before turning around to catch your train.

Smiling to himself, Bakugou turned around, walking back home, taking a sip of his too sweet hot chocolate, “It’s a date.”

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rowyn-writes · 4 years

Text

Funny Business

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language

Pairings: Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

Characters: Gabriel, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Rowena, Jack (mentioned only)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You’re Dean’s daughter, and you’re all getting ready to go to apocalypse world to rescue Jack, your best friend. When Gabriel sees that you’re upset about Jack’s absence, he tries to cheer you up and confesses that he likes you.

Requested by @daisyelll

You missed your best friend.

It felt like Jack had been in apocalypse world for centuries. Of course you missed you grandmother, Mary, but you weren't really that close with her.

Yeah, Dean Winchester was you father. He had you at a young age, 22, to be exact. Your 'mother,' wasn't really ready to be a mom yet, so she had given you to Dean in hopes he would be a good father to you. And he was.

Dean didn't want you to grow up the way he did, so he never took you traveling. Most of the times, you would stay at Bobby's house, but your dad called to check in every night and to say 'I love you,' before you would fall asleep. Whenever he was in between hunts, he would always come see you and do a 'Daddy-daughter date,' where he would take you to the movies and go out to eat.

When Sam was stuck in the Cage with Lucifer, Dean came and got you, taking you to live with him, Lisa and Ben. You loved your little dysfunctional family. Lisa was a good female influence in your life, seeing as how your own walked out on you. That's why you were devastated when Castiel wiped Ben and Lisa's memories of the Winchester's.

But that all happened when you were a kid. Now, your 21, and desperately trying to find a way to bring your best friend back from apocalypse world.

You had never connected with someone like you connected with Jack. He was like your brother, and you'd kill to protect him.

"Where is the Witchy Winchester?" A Scottish voice filled the air. That was a nickname that Rowena gave you. A few years ago, you had dabbled a bit in magic, and ever since, she had been adamant on training you.

"Rowena!" You said happily, hugging the woman.

"Y/n Winchester." She smiled as she looked at you with sad eyes. "How are you, deary?"

"I'm powering through." You assured her. "I'm just ready to get my family home." Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"We'll get them back, sweetheart." He kissed the top of your head.

"It would be a lot faster if this dumbass, impotent archangel would grow a pair and lend some grace!" You growled loudly enough for Gabriel to hear from wherever he was in the bunker.

"Oh whatever, Baby Winchester! You try being tortured by a Prince of Hell and see how you feel." He called back.

"I was." You deadpanned. "And do you see me acting like a little bitch? No." Sam and Dean snickered at your comment.

"Alrighty then," Rowena said before your argument could continue. "Let's get started." She set down a large bowl on the table, along with a bunch of other ingredients. "Fruit from the tree of life." You began gathering your things, such as clothes, non perishable foods, water, and of course, weapons. You and your father had argued earlier on in the day about you joining them to go to apocalypse world, which ended in a screaming match that you won. You definitely got your temper from you father. "Blood of a most holy man." Sam tossed over a pack of glow sticks that you put in the bag. "And ah. . ." Rowena reached up and plucked a hair out of Dean's head.

"Ow!" He complained, rubbing the back of his head. You rolled your eyes as you continued to pack.

"Something from the other side." Rowena finished, adding his hair to the mix.

"Hey. How’s Gabriel." Sam asked when Cas entered the room.

"He said he needed a minute alone." He said, his voice a low rumble. "He wanted to extract his grace by himself. In private." You shivered at what the Angel told you. You did not want to imagine what he was doing to extract his grace. Your uncle and father had the same disturbed look on their face as you did. "So I left him alone in Dean’s room."

You bursted out laughing, your eyes crinkling at the edges like your dad's did. "You what? No." Dean seemed very grossed out at the thought of what Gabriel was doing in his room.

"I hate to interrupt, but I can’t be the only one to noticed the rather glaring hole in this plan." No one seemed to pay attention to the witch as you continued packing up for the trip. "We open up the rift, it gives us a day to find and save your Mom and the boy. And it’s a very big world over there, and you’re not even sure where they are, so. . . "

"She's right." Cas spoke up. "The clock may run out on us."

"Yeah. It might." Sam seemed indifferent and unconcerned. You couldn't help but feel the same way. All you wanted was your family back together. You tucked your loaded gun into the waistband of your jeans, covering it with your flannel shirt.

"Yeah, well we don’t have any better ideas." Dean shrugged.

"Mm, that’s inspirational."

"Here it is!" Gabriel exclaimed, walking in with a very dim looking vial of his grace. " The final ingredient - a fresh serving of archangel grace."

You raise your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side. "That's pathetic." You announced, earning a snort from Rowena. "Dude, I could give more 'grace' than that, and I'm a human. You could do better." Gabriel scoffed at your words.

"That is the jet fuel of divine emissions." He proclaimed. You gave a little gag, as Dean and Sam gave him disgusted looks. "It’ll be more than enough to get the job done."

You, Rowena and Cas gave each other skeptical looks. You all knew that there was no way that was going to work. You shook your head as Rowena added more ingredients to the spell. You strapped two katana's on your back, adjusting them so they fit comfortably.

"Ya know, we won't judge you if you chose to sit this one out, kiddo." Your dad tried to convince you to stay back once more.

"Dad." You whispered, linking your hand with his. "I want to go. You're my family, and we don't leave family behind. Never." Dean gave you a small smile as he squeezed your hand. You noticed from the corner of your eye that Gabriel was watching you with curious eyes.

Rowena called you over to her, needing assistance with casting the spell. It was a rather powerful one, meaning it might need two witches instead of one. "Ready, deary?" You nodded.

"Koth Munto Nuntox." You both bellowed, motioning your hands towards the place where the rift was supposed to open. It gleamed orange, but you could tell the light was fading. There was no way anyone was going through that rift.

"Okay, everyone ready?" Cas asked the group.

"Yeah, all right." Sam nodded.

"Let’s do this." Dean agreed.

"Let's get our family back."

As you go to step through the rift, just like you expected, it began to fizzle and lean to the side. You all tilted along with it.

"Okay, that was very, very fast." You noted. The group seemed to agree with you.

"One could even say premature." Rowena remarked, making you laugh. Gabriel seemed to be flustered by you laughing at Rowena's joke.

"Um. . . I thought it would be enough." Gabriel coughed.

"All right, great. What do we do now?"

"I think we all know what to do." You said grimly. Rowena sent you and Sam a terrified look. You gripped her hand to give her reassurance. "I don't like this as much as the next person, but we need an Archangels grace. And it seems there's only one left on this god forsaken world that can actually provide his grace."

"No." Sam shook his head.

"We need to get Lucifer."

. .

. . .

You had decided to stay back while Sam, Dean, and Cas went to get Lucifer. Gabriel had already offered his assistance before coming back to the bunker. You were holed up in the library, starting at old pictures and videos on your phone. All of them were of you and Jack.

You giggled as you watched a video of Jack trying ice cream for the first time. "Ah!" He exclaimed, rubbing his temples. "Is it supposed to hurt? Is this some kind of torture that humans use on each other?"

The video shook as you began to laugh. "No, silly. You just ate it too fast. It's actually really good if you slow down and savor it!"

You felt a tear roll down your cheek as you scrolled through pictures of the two of you. He was your best friend. Your brother. And it hurt like hell to be so close to getting him, but still not quite there.

"Hey, Baby Winchester!" Gabriel said happily, walking into the room. "Guess who just captured Lucif-" He cut himself off as he saw the state you were in.

You quickly wiped away your tears, exiting out of the video app on your phone. "What do you want, Gabriel?" You sniffed.

"Are you okay?" He asked, seeming genuinely concerned, which shocked you. The Archangel never cared about anyone but himself.

"I-I'm fine." You nodded.

He frowned as he approached you, sitting down in one of the arm chairs. "Hey, what's with the waterworks?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. If you spoke, you were sure to sob. You calmed yourself before you began to speak. "I miss Jack." You confessed. "He could always make me laugh when I needed to. And right now, I really need to laugh." Your voice broke as you talked.

Gabriel's frown deepened. He knew you to be this strong warrior, this tough young woman who feared nothing and no one. And to see you so broken hurt him. He stood up, snapping his fingers as he did so. I Wanna Dance With Somebody began to play.

"Really?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at the man.

"Yes, really. Now get your ass off that chair and come dance with me. You know, many women would kill to be in your position." You glared at him, feeling skeptical. It was known that Gabriel was a huge flirt. Hell, not even two hours earlier, he was flirting with Rowena, who quickly shot him down, clearly not interested.

"If you try anything, I'll kill you faster than you can say uh-oh." Gabriel held his hands up in surrender, silently promising that he wasn't going to pull any funny business. You slowly got up off the couch and walked towards him. He extended his hand, which you hesitantly took. Gabriel spun you around, making you gasp in surprise.

"I'm quite the dancer, if you didn't know." He smirked. You still weren't in the mood to put up with his bull shit. "I'm going to make you laugh, if it's the last think I do." He promised.

"Why do you care so much if I'm unhappy. You barely know me." You mumbled as Gabriel led you around to room.

"Because, from how little I do know about you, I know that seeing you cry is a rarity. You're this badass warrior goddess that supposedly doesn't have any emotion." You were about to question him when Gabriel interrupted you. "You're a legend in the Supernatural World." He explained.

"Yeah, for being Dean Winchester's daughter." You said bitterly.

"Ah, now why is that such a bad thing?"

"Because I want to be known for the people that I've saved and the good that I do. Not for just being my dad's daughter."

"Well, trust me, sweetheart, that's not all you're known for." You looked up at Gabriel as he rocked you back and forth to the music. He clearly wasn't pleased with the fact that you were still frowning, so he picked you up off the ground and twirled you around.

You gave a giggle of excitement as he did so, earning a proud grin from Gabriel. He began hopping around the room, making you laugh harder. "There's that beautiful laugh."

"Beautiful." You scoffed. "Yeah, okay."

"Why do you find it so hard to believe that someone would use that word to describe you?"

You shrugged. "Because no one thinks of me that way."

"Now, that's not true. I'm sure many, many men and women would love to be with you." Gabriel insisted, which made you blush.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" You asked.

"Well, if I told you, I think there would be a multitude of people trying to murder me." He confessed.

You gave him a questioning look, not realizing what he was trying to tell you.

"Jeez, you Winchester's are so oblivious. I like you, Y/n. But I know if I acted on anything, you're family would murder me in a heartbeat."

You looked at him for a moment before grabbing his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. It took him a moment to kiss you back, but when he did, you were breathless. "Then we don't tell anyone. Not yet at least."

"Ooh, a secret love. I like that sound of that, Winchester." He murmured as he kissed you again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

I can promise there will be a part two, hehe.

#dean winchester daughter #gabriel imagine #gabriel x winchester reader #gabriel x reader #gabriel x yn #gabriel x y/n #supernatual #supernatural imagine #supernatural fluff #supernatural x winchester!reader #sam winchester imagine #castiel imagine #jack imagine #jack kline #gabriel #dean winchester #sam winchester #rowena mcleod #rowena

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lovemesomesurveys · 2 years

Text

what is your favorite kind of ice cream? Strawberry, mint chocolate chip, cookies and cream, birthday cake, and a lot of the “fun” flavors from like Baskin Robins and Cold Stone. if people could read your mind, what would they usually find? My mind is a jumbled mess. who do you talk to on the phone most often? I very rarely talk on the phone. what's a song that makes you feel happy? Hmm. what celebrity would you like to meet? Alexander Skarsgard.

what's the best concert you've ever been to? The Green Day concert, probably. Honestly, though, concerts are just awesome in general. It’s a fun experience. what is your favorite clothing store? Boxlunch and Hot Topic. how did you meet your best friend? She’s my mom. do you need money to be happy? No, but it can help with some things that may bring happiness and alleviate some things, which would be nice. It wouldn’t change or get rid of everything, though. I’d still have my depressed brain, feel the way I feel about myself and aspects of my life, and it wouldn’t heal the health stuff i’m dealing with. what is something you do well? Nothing. what's a good idea you've had recently? Uhh. what is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? I like eggs (even better with country gravy, spinach, cheese, or guac, sour cream, cheese, and cilantro), toast, waffles, hash browns, cream of wheat. how far in advance do you prefer to plan? It varies, depending on what it is I’m planning and the things I want to do. do you like to wear high heels? No. how many slices of pizza do you usually eat? 1-3, depending on where I get it from and the size. Can you remember life without technology? what was it like? I mean, technology was still a thing when I was a kid lol we just didn’t have some things yet that I have now, like my iPhone and MacBook. Anyway, it is crazy to think there was a time I wasn’t glued to a computer screen and actually used to play outside. I spent a lot of time outside, which if you knew me as I got older you would find hard to believe cause I’m an indoors, homebody type of person.

what gift would you like to receive? Hmm. what's the last thing you paid for? Bills. what's the last movie you watched? The Gray Man. do you remember your dreams? Rarely. do you play any instruments? No. do you always smile for pictures? I just do a little closed mouth smile. what are you most excited about right now? Nothing. if you had $5 in your pocket what yould you spend it on? I don’t know right now. It would likely be food or drink related, but I can’t have either one right now. how often do you buy things via the internet? Often. I love online shopping. would you like to live in a different country? if so which one? No. what animal would you see first if you went to the zoo? Giraffes. if you could switch places with someone for a day, who would it be? Someone healthy and happy with a beach house, ha. do you prefer the aisle, middle, or window seat on a plane? I’ve only sat in the middle the few times I’ve flown on a plane. what's your favorite song from a movie? There’s a lot of good soundtracks. where would you like to volunteer? At my church. would you rather go out for dinner or cook at home? I’d like to get takeout. who sent the last text message you received? My Nana. what's your favorite flower? I don’t really have one. what's the last song you listened to? I don’t recall. do you like being alone? Sometimes. I do need my alone time. what was the last thing you ate? The last actual food I had was a cookie and some chips. I can’t believe that was almost 3 months ago. :( how do you find new music? Spotify, generally. what is your dream travel destination? So many places. if you could play any instrument what would it be? Piano. what's the last youtube video you watched? An ASMR video. where are you going on your next trip? I don’t know. I won’t be able to go anywhere for a long time. :/ what are you currently addicted to? Stranger Things,

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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escapewriter · 4 years

Text

Meet Again

pairing : sunwoo x reader

genre : slight fluff, angst

type : oneshot

wc : 2.2k

main masterlist || tbz written masterlist

read this if you would like to request something

Looking outside the window of your apartment, you thought about how much your life has changed after you moved. You had to leave Seoul, your friends, your family, and everything you grew up with, but what stung the most is having to leave your best friend, Sunwoo. It was hard to leave him on your last day in Seoul, but it was also the most memorable. He took you to the arcade you both went to everyday in middle school, bought you ice cream from your favorite shop, went to the forgotten mall on the other side of town that you both spent most of your high school days. He took you down memory lane as a way to remind you that everything will be there and wait for you to return. But if you’re unlucky, not everything will wait.

You looked at the letter you wrote in your hands, debating on whether or not you should send it to Sunwoo. You both have been sending each other letters due to the bad internet connection you had. However, after months of waiting for a letter to arrive, Sunwoo had stopped sending. You on the other hand, continued to send in hopes that he would eventually reply. You thought maybe he was busy and didn’t have time to write, so you kept your head up and relied on the false hope you had created.

It wasn’t until three months had passed when you realized that maybe Sunwoo just didn’t want to send you letters. Maybe he was tired of you or thought that you would never return. Truth is though, you probably never would go back unless it was necessary. But the reason you’re conveniently sitting in a plane that is heading to Seoul right now is because your boss requested that you complete a project for him in Seoul. Maybe it was your chance to talk to Sunwoo again.

You only had one week in Seoul but only had to work five out of the seven days. Your boss knew that it was your hometown, so he gave you an extension to your stay there.

Throughout those five days of working, you had stayed with your parents, catching up with everything in their lives as well as yours. They had also participated in writing letters to you instead of texting, the only difference is that they made time for it. They knew about the situation with Sunwoo, for they have seen him around the neighborhood often, but they shouldn’t be the one to tell you what was going on in his life.

You were eating dinner and talking with your parents on what you should do for the next two days you would be staying here. “Have you seen Sunwoo lately? I’m sure he would like to know that you’re in town.” You chewed slowly, staring at your plate as you thought of what to say. “I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in so long.”

Both of your parents watched as you transitioned from your fast eating to a slow tempo. You sighed and placed down your utensil, “I know what you both are thinking, but my feelings for Sunwoo have faded. Plus, I’m not even in the city or country anymore, so even if he liked me, it wouldn’t work out.”

They smirked at you, “We said nothing about your feelings dear, but we do believe that you should go and see him.” You huffed in frustration, knowing full well that the feelings you have for Sunwoo in high school will always stay with you. Even if he hasn’t written to you in so long and you haven’t seen him, your feelings never faded.

You sat in the same booth of your favorite ice cream parlor that Sunwoo took you to on your last day in Seoul. You looked outside the window, watching everyone pass by on the street and seeing people enter and coming out of stores. Across the street was a small restaurant that you were unfamiliar with, seeing that it had opened while you were gone. You watched the place pack with people as time went on, but what caught your eye was the familiar head of your best friend, holding the door open for someone.

You know you shouldn’t assume anything, but after seeing them kiss his cheek, your heart shattered. You looked away, not wanting to see him with someone else as you drank your ice cream float.

What you didn’t notice is that he looked around and in the window of the ice cream shop, he saw you. He felt his heart beating out of his chest, his eyes only focusing on the side of your face, but getting pulled away by his significant other. Maybe he was hallucinating.

You decided you would roam the streets of Seoul instead of seeing Sunwoo, for you had lost all hope you had and were only left with a broken heart. You went to all the same places he had taken you to, remembering all the memories you had made with him and that they’re all still here waiting for you. All of it waited except for one. You don’t blame him though; people grow and move on.

You were again at the dinner table, but your parents were not present as they had to attend work matters. You ate silently and thought about what you had seen today, but your mind kept going back to the ice cream shop. You wish you could forget it all and just move on like he did but you couldn’t. It made you feel so frustrated with yourself because you can’t control your feelings and you wish you could so then you wouldn’t be in this sort of predicament.

You stood up after hearing a soft knock on the door. You opened it, expecting to see your parents but was met with Sunwoo standing with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You stared in shock at him, surprised that he showed up at your front door.

“You think I didn’t see you in the ice cream parlor?” No words left your agap mouth as you stood there. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to rack your brain for an answer, but you just stared at him. “Are you not gonna say anything? You thought you were just going to come here without telling me?” If this happened a few months ago when he was sending you letters, you would have laughed at how he looked; holding a bouquet of flowers while saying those words to you in a harsh tone. But time continues to move and so have you and Sunwoo.

“Honestly, Sunwoo,” You took deep breaths, trying not to feel so nervous and to help calm your shaky voice, “I thought you forgot about me.” You looked into his eyes, seeing the regret and hurt behind them, “You haven’t sent me anything for months. I figured you were busy, and you are. You’re in a relationship and I’m happy for you, so I won’t blame you for not being able to send me anything.

He watched your eyes as they would move from his to something else around him. He was at a loss of words too. “When do you leave?” You opened your mouth, telling him that tomorrow was your last day here, “Save that day for me, okay?” He handed you the bouquet, a rush of deja vu hitting you at full speed, but this time it felt different; it felt like time was stopping for you two.

You nodded your head as he took a step back, “I’ll pick you up, we’ll have a good day tomorrow and I’ll explain everything, okay?” You smiled softly, the pounding muscle in your chest being heard in your ears. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sitting in Sunwoo’s car, you inhaled the familiar scent and looked out the window. You watched the people and the stores you passed by, knowing where you were going just by the route you were taking. “Are you taking us to the mall?” He smiled and nodded, “You know me too well.”

You laughed softly, turning up the faint sound of the radio and softly sang along to it. Sunwoo tapped the wheel softly to the beat, but also to debate if he should spark up a conversation. You beat him to it though, “So, how has your relationship been going so far?”

We broke up. “It’s going good. Why do you ask?”

“Well, when I saw you two the other day, you both looked so happy together.”

I wasn’t happy with them. “Haha yeah, I guess so.”

You glanced at Sunwoo, the frown on his face making it hard to ignore the tension in the car. You sighed, knowing you had to talk to him about what’s bothering him sooner rather than later. “Sunwoo, pull over.” His eyebrows shot up in shock, “What? Why?”

“Just pull over.”

He pulled into a parking lot and parked. He turned off the engine and looked at you, “Why am I pulling over exactly?” He nervously laughed and looked down at the space between the two of you. “Tell me what’s on your mind. What’s bothering you?”

He had an internal battle, debating on telling you how he’s felt for so long, or just making something up and putting the blame on you — he went for the latter. “I’m just irritated because you didn’t tell me you came home.” Your mouth fell open, disbelief that he’s actually mad that you didn’t tell him you were in Seoul.

“Are you kidding me Sunwoo? You’re mad at me for not telling you I’m in Seoul when you’re out here and can’t even bother to take a small amount of time out of your day to write a simple letter to me.” He scoffed, knowing where this is going to end, “I can’t always make time for you, I have a life—”

“And I don’t?” You looked at the side of his face, too stubborn to look into your eyes, “I can’t believe you Sunwoo. You know if you wanted to stop sending letters, you could have just told me.” You opened the door to the car, his head snapping to you, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going home, I don’t want to spend my last day in Seoul with you if you’re going to act like this.” You slammed the door and stormed away, calling one of your parents to come and pick you up.

Sunwoo sat in his car, staring at the wheel as he thought about how he should have just told you how he felt and what he did the day he saw you at the ice cream parlor. After he went inside the new shop, he wasn’t like himself and his date knew that too, which obviously led to Sunwoo breaking up with them. It wasn’t fair that he goes out with someone, pretending to be happy with them, when his heart belonged to another. He had to tell you before you leave.

You can’t imagine yourself in these types of situations where the protagonist chases after their prince or princess in an airport, yet here you are. You had hugged your parents goodbye, walking to check in your luggage, but was stopped by a hand holding you back.

You looked at Sunwoo who was panting and out of breath. “Please, just give me five minutes.” You nodded and led him to a seating area and sat down, waiting for him to talk. He wiped his hands on his jeans, trying to get rid of the nervousness before he spoke.

“I know yesterday was so bad and I didn’t mean anything I said back there.” He paused and looked into your eyes, sighing as he softly smiled, “My relationship, I ended that day I saw you.” Your eyes widened as you looked anywhere but him. “I broke it off because it wasn’t fair for them to be in a relationship that didn’t have any true feelings. It was fake.” He paused again, mentally preparing for his confession. His eyes gazed into yours and he took one of your hands into his, “When I say fake, I mean that my feelings aren’t directed towards them, but towards you.”

The butterflies you felt in your stomach erupted like a volcano, the feeling of euphoria overtaking your emotions as you smiled at him. However, you looked around as you heard your flight number echo in the intercom, causing your smile to drop and look back at Sunwoo who had a smile on his face. “Don’t worry. This time, I won’t ignore my feelings and I’ll make time for you.” You frowned, not wanting to leave him again like the first time.

He brought his left arm up, cupping your cheek as he rubbed his thumb against your soft skin, “Go, or you’ll miss your flight.” You both stood up, his other hand still locked with yours. You pouted, “I’m going to miss you Sunwoo.” He smiled softly, pulling at your hand as he brought you closer for a tight hug. It was the first hug you both had since you saw each other, and it felt amazing.

“I’ll be here waiting, until we meet again.”

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz reactions #the boyz oneshots #the boyz drabbles #sunwoo #kim sunwoo #tbz sunwoo #escapewriter.request #escapewriter oneshot

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finoalcielo · 3 years

Text

KAI-CHAN RADIO ⑤

☆ JUL 21, 2021☆

KAI: They competed for the fun~! YOU: Leisure activities, huh? Summer is full of it. And so, KAI: Kai-chan Radio! YOU: will also include Haduki You! See in you a moment♪

☆ KAI-CHAN RADIO IS A CASUAL RADIO ☆

KAI: Let's talk tonight♪ About our summer vacation activities! YOU: I started off extremely excited for it, but, I don't think I'll be able to go to the August's activities. Like the Lantern Festival dance, mountains, swimming pool, or even a little trip to the sea. Is that all?

KAI: Ah? Really? YOU: I'll be at home. Helping my parents. KAI: Oh right. The temple. YOU: Yup. Obon is the busiest time of the year. So, I have to travel with my family. KAI: Ooh. YOU: I've never really had much complaints about it. KAI: Ah, I see. YOU: Yeah, since I understood it ever since I was a child.

YOU: It felt a bit nice to see my parents relying on me for some things. I went exploring deeper into the mountains with Tooru (2nd oldest brother) once. And, when we returned later than usual, Sou (oldest brother) scolded us. We mess around a lot every day. KAI: Oh, Haduki brothers. You guys haven't changed at all (www)

YOU: I only remembered when I started talking. Still, I travelled about 2, 3 times. Near Takachiho and Hokkaido. And my memories from that time is a bit weird. Like, I remember the soft serve ice cream being delicious or the sea urchins being terrible (I like it now though) (www) KAI: Memories from long ago are really like that. Food being more important than famous places!

KAI: I also remember the souvenirs I bought on the way rather than the destination. It was a metal keychain with a dragon entwined around a sword. YOU: I knew you'd speak about it (www). Wasn't it the one where it had a lot of crystals or stone stuck to it? (wwww) KAI: I still have it (ww)

YOU: You still have it?! Wow (www) KAI: I use it for my car key. YOU: Extremely distracting... (www) KAI: Ah, anyways, about my leisure activities! I went to a lot of places, but have I told you about the year when my father rented a minibus to go on a family vacation? YOU: Minibus?! KAI: We are a big family (6 siblings). YOU: Ah.

KAI: My father did his best to get a license to drive our big family. YOU: Fuduki papa is amazing. KAI: I got one too. Let's all go~? YOU: The Fuduki family is amazing. KAI: The destination was for Tokyo's Disneyland! It was for a day, but if we include the sightseeing at the town on the way back, then it was 5 days in total? It was awesome. YOU: Sounds fun!

KAI: Maybe I remember this because it was during the time I enjoyed travelling? But anyways, in about two years, the Fuduki family once again travelled in the minibus! At that time, we travelled to Shikoku. YOU: Oh~ It takes a while to reach there, right? KAI: It took us a week to reach. YOU: Lots of driving (www).

KAI: No, at that time, the truck driver's cousin or I sometimes took over driving. On those days, my father would drink beer with his morning, evening and night meals. YOU: Fuduki papa (www) I get your feelings (www) KAI: It's a memory of my summer vacation activity, which was more fun than the destination itself ♪

KAI: And so, that was the Kai-chan Radio "Summer Vacation Activities" Edition! YOU: And then is... ah, right. Want to take some messages from people? I know it's late in the night, but if anyone is awake and has some messages for us, we'll accept them! KAI: Questions, messages, anything is fine~!

It's so hot that I feel like melting... Please give me an idea to cool down! = = YOU: I know! Turn on the cooler. KAI: A pragmatic answer (www) YOU: It's not good to put up with the heat ~ KAI: That's true. YOU: Watch out for heat stroke!

Thank you for sharing your stories. If you could travel now, where would you go...? = = YOU: It's really hot, so I want to take a dive in the sea. KAI: I'll be next to him! YOU & KAI: We want to go to the sea~~~!!! HARU: Didn't you go there the other day? (laughs)

Kai-san, You-san, thank you...! The final exam is about to start, so please give me some encouragement... = = YOU: Studying this late? Woah! We'll be cheering for you to do well! KAI: I'll support you with (my heart's) pompoms~ Hooray~ Hooray~ Study well!! YOU: A fun summer is waiting for you after the test!

Kai-kun! I have a glittering bow keychain, so let's compete against each other!!? (laughs) = = KAI: A fellow friend!!! Then, I'll be the second player!! Bring it on!! YOU: Exactly how will you fight (www)

Hello! I'd like to hear about any recent small incidents that occurred around Procella members! = = YOU: Yoru's glasses got deformed by the heat (www) KAI: He accidentally left it on the bonnet of our travel bus, it got deformed slightly after about 2 hours. (www)

24 hours a day isn't enough. What do you think? = = KAI: I guess it's slightly not enough? If you sleep while thinking, "Stay tuned for Kai tomorrow!", then you'll be excited. YOU: Don't get excited before going to bed (ww)

You-kun! Please do something with Aoi-kun!!!!!!! (I'm greedy) = = YOU: I like your greediness~ Yosh, let's do it now. Aoi-chan. AOI: Eeh?! YOU: I caught the retreating Aoi-chan. AOI: I-I got caught! KAI: Now, how do you want to do this?! YOU: What should we do? Aoi-chan. AOI: EHHHH?!

→ AOI: L-L-Let's peel it off! T/N: Aoi was trying to say "Look that way" (あっち向いてホイで lit. atchi muite hoi de) but ended up saying "Let's peel it off" (あっち剥いてホイで lit. atchi muite hoi de). Both have the same pronunciation, just different meanings.

→ AOI: What a terrible typo!!!

→ AOI: I meant 'Look that way'!! YOU & KAI: (wwwww) AOI: I was really flustered and when I thought I deleted it, I actually sent it instead. I meant 'Look that way'!!!~~~~~ You!!! Kai-san, geez!!! YOU & KAI: (wwww)

#Aoi won by default.

This is for a questionnaire, but what was doing your homework like? Did you fill in what you knew on the day you got it and left the rest blank and asked a friend for help, or leave some empty in the first week and finish the rest later? = = KAI: I did half in the first week, and the remaining in the last week.

→ YOU: I want to say that I finished it early in August... but I ended up frantically doing it towards the end (www) KAI: I can imagine that ~~ While Yoru did his patiently, right? YOU: Yup. Isn't that right? YORU: Yes. Ah, I also did the Radio calisthenics properly! Radio Calisthenics = a short exercise routine broadcast daily on Japan's national radio, streamed on YouTube, followed in parks and schools every day – sometimes several times a day – by all generations of Japanese people

It's been hot lately, but please tell us if you have a story that chilled you to your bones. = = KAI: Shun turned bright red and got a fever. YOU: He got one after frantically trying to decide the thumbnail for his Hajime-san video collection. KAI: He looked really happy when I putting the cooling patch on. YOU: His fever also came down almost immediately. YOU & KAI: We ate curry together.

Hi!! Starting from today, we'll be having the 4 day holiday, so will you all be working??? Are there any jobs you have with other members of the agency??? = = KAI: Hi~! Tomorrow will be a visual shooting with the theme of intelligence♪ YOU: It's not a job, but the day after tomorrow, I'll talk with Takaaki-san and Roa-san about an independent dance lesson along with a few more people. The 4 day holiday they're talking about is Marine Day, which lasts from Jul 22 - Jul 25 in Japan.

Is it okay to eat ice-cream at this time?! = = KAI: We've already eaten it (sparkles) YOU: Recently, my favorite one is... the Shi●kuma ice cream KAI: The melon flavour! This year, for some reason, the melon flavor is in demand. YOU: You can buy it at a convenience store ~ He's referring to the Shirokuma Ice Cream which is a shaved ice dessert topped with ice cream and condensed milk.

Please tell us what you had for dinner today! = = KAI: Pork shogayaki. I really like it. Especially when its with White Rice. YOU: I get you.

Have you been interacted with the Gravi members lately? Please tell us if there's anything interesting👓✨ = = KAI: Oh, that emoji means Haru! Haru~ HARU: I was waiting so long to be called. YOU: You appeared so quickly (www) HARU: Something interesting... Ah, let's play Look that way! YOU: Is it popular in Gravi? (ww)

#Haru won and was satisfied when he left.

I'm busy and tired lately, so please leave a good luck charm please!! I love you!!! = = KAI: I love you too!! YOU: Me too! The is the best good luck charm you can believe in! We love you, support you, so please do your best!! KAI: I wish you a happy summer!

It's summer!!!!!! Did you have anything of a summer vibe that you ate?? = = KAI: Corn!!!!! Grilled Corn!!! YOU: Recently, Procella has this trend of using the Bato Mayo Soy Sauce with various things.

Is Maze slowly molting??! = = YOU: ......Maze? Are you molting? I've never cleaned them up. MAGELLAN: Que! (I forgot) KAI: He's always like fluffy. Maybe it's because he's an Demon World Penguin? Next time, let us touch you~

Speaking of summer vacation, I remember watching movies at movie theaters or on TV when I was in elementary school! Do you have a favorite movie when you were little? = = KAI: Back to the Fu●re that was rebroadcasted on TV! I feel like that's a classic one. YOU: There's also Toto●. KAI: Ah, there's that too! The child in the middle has my colors! Kai is referring to Back to the Future and I believe You is referring to My Neighbor Totoro.

We can't drink outside, but have you been drinking at home?? = = YOU: The senior group sometimes drink on the balcony~ KAI: Only sometimes~ I don't drink a lot (laughs). And what about the middle group? YOU: We don't really drink much? Instead, we eat food.

KAI: That was all for the replies~! YOU: Thank you for your messages despite it being midnight! KAI: I was going to introduce the October's CD but it's so late now, so I'll do it tomorrow! YOU: If you're going to do it tomorrow, then just call in the people themselves. KAI: Ah, true. Anyways, this is all for today's corner!

KAI: It was Kai-chan Radio, Summer Vacation Activity Edition~! YOU: Thank you for listening to us! Ah, Kai, let's say that. KAI: That? YOU (whispers unintelligently to Kai) KAI: Uhhh.. KAI & YOU: Dream well? KAI: .... YOU: .... KAI: I'm kind of embarassed. YOU: Why? (www)

#Kai-chan Radio #Thank you

✧If you like my work, then please consider supporting me here. Thank you~!

#tsukiuta #tsukiuta twitter #fuduki kai #haduki you #kai chan radio #please this was too long #what the heck #how do they have so much energy?#they really are summer guys #LOL

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wickfursfanfics · 3 years

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DCMKEmogust2021 28/08

My entry for DCMKEmogust 2021 - Saturday 28/08

My prompt Inspirations for this one:

My own work shenanigans

Song 02 - Sweet Tooth By Scott Helman Spotify//YT

Intended Genre: sadness and fluff.

Rating: General

Starring: Kaito and Shinichi. And me as the clerk. KaiShin

I had another idea for this prompt originally, but it was just vibes so I didn't know how to continue it. And then a few days ago at work I witnessed a sad and sweet scene.

For some context. I work at an ice cream stand in my city, scooping ice cream to the summer happy masses. And since our season is slowly coming to an end we are running low on the more popular flavours.

Anyway, I turned the little scene into a little fic scene with our resident detective of the east and phantom thief boys.

Enjoy~

Shinichi had found an ice cream stand in downtown Beika. It was strategically placed at a plaza where many people came by every day. It had no wheels but it was a temporary establishment that flocked the masses over the summer months. A box shaped stand that interestingly enough had a roof that could lift at the turn of a key.

He had gotten a tip from Takagi-keiji that they had some of the best ice creams he had tasted and it was so worth the little extra money it cost. So naturally Shinichi got intrigued.

The first time he went there he got the mocha flavoured one. He was surprised to note it wasn't too sweet and tasted enough coffee that he had to go back and get another. The sweet lady scooping the ice cream giggled a little good naturally and scooped a slightly larger than average scoop and gave him a smile as she served it. He ate it gratefully.

The second time around it had gone by a month or two. He went up to that same lady and asked to get some mocha. She smiled apologetically and explained it was gone this morning. And they might not get another shipment for a while. Shinichi felt a bit sad but asked if she recommended anything else.

She hummed and said that it depends on what flavours he liked. Then she said that the Blueberry cheesecake was a favourite of hers. She gave him a little spoon of the creamy goodness and Shinichi tasted it. He was surprised by how much he actually liked it, it wasn't overly sweet and the cheese cake crumbs in the ice cream really made the flavours pop. So he took a scoop of that with little complaint.

The third time he ordered from the stand, he chose the Blueberry cheese cake once more. It tasted just as good as the last time.

When he got home he was greeted with a hug by Kaito. He was finally home from his tour, a little early even. He told Kaito about the ice cream place and about this new flavour he had tasted. He told Kaito that he really would need to taste this one, it was right down his alley despite him being more of a chocolate addict. Kaito was really excited, there was finally something they could eat together that suited both their tastes.

So the next day they both went to the ice cream place. Kaito was a ball of energy and very much hyped about finally tasting the flavour Shinichi had bugged him about.

There was a cue and they patiently waited for their turn. There were two orders ahead of them and the ladies in front of them kept ogling the prices with frowns on their faces. When it was their turn they ordered one scoop each. The first lady pays for her ice cream but the second lady refused to.

"It was 320¥ last time" she says a bit bitterly. The lady just doing her job told them that "No it has always been 408¥"

The lady wouldn't have it and insisted

"That was the other ice cream place down the road, they had 408¥, here it was 320¥" she says, her friend agreeing with her.

The clerk looks a bit uncomfortable but continues to insist that no, it has always been 408¥ for one scoop and 536¥ for two and 664¥ for three. She continually points at the prices listed on their little sign telling them so.

Shinichi knew for a fact that it has always been 408¥, what were they trying to do? Harass her into giving them another price?

They continued to harp at the poor lady until Kaito and Shinichi butted in.

"Excuse me ladies" Kaito says with full charm "But if she says it has been 408¥ the entire time, then you can't keep holding up the line"

"Excuse me!?" She hisses while turning around. When she sees that it's thee Kuroba Kaito, she changes tune immediately. She giggles innocently "But I could have sworn it was 320¥" she says, fluttering her eyelashes.

Shinichi gives her a flat look "Well, it isn't the price you remember, so please pay and be on your way" she huffs but grudgingly pays what she owes. Muttering all the way.

"I won't come back here that is for sure!" She calls as she leaves.

Kaito chuckles at their childishness "The prices were listed very clearly, what was their problem?"

Shinichi snorts "They probably thought paying 408¥ for a scoop was expensive"

The lady bows slightly and thanks them for helping her out with a smile. She then asks what ice cream they would like.

Kaito immediately say they should get two scoops, so that's what they will get. He asks her what flavour shw would recommend together with Blueberry cheesecake. She said that she really enjoyed it with Seasalted caramel. And so he took those flavours. She started with the Blueberry, bringing the container up on the counter as it was nearing empty. When she was done with it she set it to the side to disposr of later. She then put a nice scoop of Seasalted caramel on top and gave it to him.

She then turned to Kaito and he smiled and said he wanted the same. Her face fell into an apologetic one, her expression looking sad. "I'm sorry, that was the last of the Blueberry cheesecake.." she said dejectedly.

Kaito's smile fell into a sad one. His expression turning into a kicked and sad puppy, he was distraught. She continued to look sad right with him and urged him to try something else she had. Shinichi suggested the Saffron and Honey flavour. Kaito shook his head a little. She took a spoon and a small piece for him to try. Kaito put it in his mouth and hung his head shaking it "no" he said in the most sad tone he had heard. Shinichi frowned, maybe he had hyped it up too much.

"Come on Kaito, don't you want something else?" He and the lady both urging him to pick something else. He dejectedly picked "Then an Italian Chocolate and seasalted caramel… please"

She apologised again and scooped the requested flavours. They then paid and started walking away. The lady called after them that Shinichi should let Kaito taste the flavour later. Shinichi sent her a smile over his shoulder and called back "I will do that!"

Kaito continues to look very sad as he licks his ice cream. "At least the seasalted caramel was good" he says off handedly. Shinichi sighs at his behaviour and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Cheer up, you can have half the scoop when I get to it"

Kaito lit up immediately and started devouring his ice cream with vigor. Giving him a happy smile "Thank you Nichi!"

"Idiot" he says and continues to eat his frozen goodness at a more normal pace.

In the end Kaito got to taste the flavour and was very happy.

END.

Now, the ladies that refused to pay actually gave in pretty easily after being told that it was the right price in the real scenario. But it was more fun having the boys interfere.

Until next time!

//Wick 0v0

#dcmkemogust2021 #emogust2021 #dcmkemogust #Detective Conan #dcmk #magic kaito #wick writes sometimes #kaishin #kuroba kaito #kudo shinichi #humor #sadness #fluff #ice cream

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awesomerextyphoon · 4 years

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A Warrior’s Heart | Phase 1: Welcome – 3

A Hero’s Welcome?

Summary: When someone with a connection to Steve’s past dies, he’s reminded of the promise he made to Dr. Erskine and whether or not he’s failed. Can Ife help him see that he hasn’t?

Characters: Steve Rogers, Ifekerenma ‘Ife’, Abraham Erskine (mentioned), Marlene Erskine (mentioned), Nick Fury, Eliza Maza, Azeneth Ramirez

Main Pairing: Stucky x Black!OFC (Ifekerenma ‘Ife’)

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 5,801

Warnings: Depression, Talk of Death, Slightly Cynical Steve, Politics, Smutty Thoughts

A/N: I’m sorry that this so long. I really wanted to try something different with Erskine and the time around CA:TFA. Also, I wanted to explore how Steve would be feeling right after AoU (little bit of a downer, but it will get better). Furthermore, this story will diverge a bit from MCU in terms of Steve’s and Bucky’s abilities. Feedback is welcomed and greatly appreciated. Dividers were by the lovely @firefly-graphics. Thanks to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for the beta!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

<<Previous

Early June 2015

“What do you have to report, Ifekerenma?”

Ife pursed her lips together,”Wanda is doing well with her training. Djamila and Nazaret had some sung her praises during their first session.”

It took a few days to convince the team and Fury to let her friends train Wanda. Luckily Nat had her back and Wanda was able to show the compound how much she improved from what Ife was able to teach her. Unfortunately, Azeneth was unable to make it due to being tied up with a BNA mission and relocating to the NYC division.

“That’s good to hear. Have you made made any progress with the others?”

Ife’s eyes casted down in thought. Vision was a no-go for now. Pietro was warming up to her, but he thought she was still suspicious (wasn’t wrong). She didn’t want to try Rhodey yet (too close to Tony). Nat was..difficult; she’ll try again later.

“I’m going to try Steve next. He seems like a safe bet, even with the serum. Hopefully, he won’t catch before it’s time. I will need Erskine’s folder though.”

Eliza’s lips turned upward in a small smile, “Agreed. I’ll have it sent to you within the hour. Best of luck, Ife.”

And with that, Ife got dressed and headed towards the common room.

Steve leaned back and clasped his hands together behind his head in thought and vexation.

The 21st century must be fucking with him.

Right after Operation ‘Captain Briar Rose’, Steve went to Brooklyn. He could barely find any trace of his old neighborhood. The apartment complex where he and his mother lived was now a ritzy condominium with a Starbucks on the ground level.

All of the places he’d go with Bucky were now soulless veneers filled with empty promises of ‘happiness’ or ‘self-esteem’.

He remembered the time Bucky bailed him out of yet another beating by Arnie and his gang back in 1928. His mother berated him for getting in yet another fight while Bucky’s mom laughed and treated them to ice cream from the local sweets parlor. Bucky’s sisters – Rebecca, Rose, and Annabelle – were making a fuss and bursted out in giggles when Annabelle got ice cream in Bucky’s hair. It was one of the best days that year.

A T-Mobile now stands in its place.

All of his friends and comrades save Bucky and Peggy are dead; he nearly bawled in the middle of briefing when found out that Timothy ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan died and had a cry alone in his quarters afterwards.

Felt shitty about the current state of the country. It seemed as though everything has gotten worse. He found out about the Gulf, Afghanistan, and Iraq Wars. How income and wealth inequality has somehow gotten as bad as, if not worse, than the Gilded Age. Corruption has turned DC and NYC into dog and pony show.

He was furious at all of the politicians and corporations that wanted him to endorse them or their actions. They wanted Captain America’s helmet and shield to mask their heinous acts. They were the same if not worse than Senator Brandt.

Some days Steve wished SHIELD let him stay in the ice. Even worse, there were days he felt that Captain America was for an America that never was.

Nowadays, he felt even more like an anomaly.

It started when he got out of the ice. He felt a lot stronger and faster; only Thor knew the extent of it and he has to hold back a lot when fighting for fear of government asking for more of his blood. Though he suspected Ife and Natasha might be onto him.

He was a lot hungrier than before he went on ice as well. Often time, he would have late night ‘dinners’ (now it's every night), To be honest, he was a bit embarrassed at how much he ate, though the thought of pinning the blame on Ife did cross his mind. It wouldn’t work due to Ife almost never eating with the team and Sam said that he would know if Ife was the culprit. Steve suspected that Ife has been using her connections to restock the food between when he retired to his quarters and before the rest of the team came for breakfast. Also, she kept leaving him fun pop culture facts and media recommendations for the night.

Steve didn’t feel he could go to Dr. Cho since he doubted she had anything to go on in his case.

He did wonder if Ife could help him. She seemed to like helping the team and she was knowledgable about Non-Humans. Wanda’s rapid improvement in her powers and control bolstered his decision.

Sighing, Steve sat up straight in his chair and picked up the letter he received that morning. Marlene Philomena Erskine had passed away and he was invited to her funeral.

It was sad to have yet another link to his past slip from his grasp.

Steve was finishing up another book to fight off his jitters. It was the night before the operation and he needed to have a few moments of respite from the war.

He was so engrossed in what he was reading that he failed to notice Dr. Erskine entering.

Erskine, for his part, was eyeing several books in Rogers’ makeshift bookshelf: They Odyssey, Of Mice and Men, Murder on the Orient Express, Tender is the Night, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Homage to Catalonia, and To Have and have Not.

“What do you think of the book?” Erskine asked as he sat across the startled recruit.

“Just finished. Y’think it wise to get buzzed before a major operation, sir?” Steve noted when he saw the bottle and two shot glasses on the bed.

Erskine chucked, “Calms my nerves a bit. What did you think of the book?”

Steve pressed his lips together for a moment, “It was a good read. The book had a lot of good points for something written eleven years ago.”

“What truths?”

“Well, for one thing, how technology is used to make the populace happy, but not better. The World Government found a way to get people to willingly trade self-expression, self-awareness, and their happiness for cheap happiness and comfort. Makes you wonder if the US was next, you know?”

Erskine was taken aback by his answer. It was much deeper than most of commanding officers gave if they even read the book.

Though that last sentence was interesting.

“What do you mean next?”

“Isn’t that what happened in Germany?”

Erskine sighed, “Yes and no. Most people here think Hitler came out of nowhere, but he didn’t. Not everyone in Germany was for WWI. There was a 100,000 person march in Berlin, but it didn’t matter since the Social Democratic Party failed to rise to the occasion and went along with war effort. Many were scapegoated for Germany failure, Matthias Erzberger for instance.”

“What about the Weimar Republic?”

Once again, Erskine was taken aback by Steve’s knowledge, “Weimar Germany was a great place to be creative, curious, and make new discoveries. I met my wife, Greta, in Berlin during that time. I made a lot of friends, friends I had to leave behind.”

Erskine frowned as his face darkened,”The terrible thing, my friend, was not that Hitler was dangerous, it was that either people didn’t take him as the threat he was or they wanted to use him for their own ends. The cops and judges sympathized with the Nazi Party to get one over the Socialists and Communists. Industrialists wanted to make money off of the Nazis getting into power. Even the German and International newspapers didn’t cover him with the urgency required.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Ja, and it almost happened here, didn’t it?”

Steve nodded in reference to the America First movement and the German American Bund. He still remembers getting the crap beaten out of him by the Silver Shirts when he spoke out against them a few years ago.

“So why did you choose me?”

“I suppose that is the best question.” Erskine admitted while glancing at Steve’s bookshelf, “What do you think of the Odyssey?”

Steve shrugged, “The adventures were fun, but they were just fantasy.”

“They may not be, Mein Freund. How old do you think I am?”

“Uh, mid sixties?”

Erskine laughed, “You’re too kind. I will be 94 this September,” he smiled noting Steve’s shock, “Things are not always as they seem. I come from a long line of ‘healers’ dating back to before Rome. One of them was able to ‘make a man more’. They inspired me to go into this profession.”

“Making super soldiers?”

“Medicine and bio-chemical engineering.”

“Oh”

“Did you know that you will not be first to undergo this?”

“Who was?”

“His name was Konrad Jager. He was a lot like you: small, frail, but had a great deal of courage and compassion. He was willing to fight Nazis in the streets knowing he’d lose. One day in 1930, his parents begged me to save him as the doctors had given up all hope.

I was woking on a serum that would make the body impervious to all diseases rather than wait for the next outbreak to occur. I thought it would propel the medical field.

The trial worked and he was healed. He became much taller and broader in size as a result.”

Erskine pulled out a picture of himself next to a tall, well-built young man.

“That’s Konrad isn’t it?”

“Yes. I was able to help eight more people through the earlier version of the serum. All but one turned out well.”

“What happened to the one?”

“Ah yes, Eren Kant. He was a shy young man before the serum, but then became more like Hodge: a philander, arrogant, and bit of a bully with a temper. He ‘grew too big for his britches’ as one would say and was arrested by the Munich police. He let his arrogance blind him and he escaped in a way that intrigued Der Fuhrer and was taken to Berlin soon after. By this time, rumors had spread of my work and the Nazis were anxious to be the ‘best of the Aryans’. They were able to get my whereabouts from Eren and sent Schmitt to fetch me, but I was already on my way to Switzerland when he reached my home.”

“How did he get you?”

Erskine slightly jerked his head to the side and back, “A year prior to my attempted escape, I met a man in Geneva who warned of the dangers that lied in Berlin. He gave me his card if I needed to escape. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have waited so long before I made the phone call. I was tipped off by an old colleague of Eren entering Nazi custody.

Everything was set. My family and I were to enter Switzerland by crossing Lake Constance. We made it to Meerburg and the lake was in sight when Schmitt and his agents cut us off.

Schmitt believed that there was a power left behind by the gods. He believed himself to be a leader of a new race of men. He wanted me to ‘perfect the serum’, make him stronger than Eren. He had my children, Klaus and Marlene, taken to the outskirts of town as insurance implying that they would be sent to Dachau if I should fail.

I stalled for as long as I could hoping Schmitt would forget about me, but it was not meant to be. A few years after I was taken hostage, Schmitt stormed into my lab and pointed a gun to Greta demanding I give him the serum.”

“Did it make him stronger than Eren?”

“It did, but it had...side effects. The serum was not ready. Schmitt’s skin turned red and his face became so disfigured that Hitler called him the Red Skull. He killed Greta with his bare hands,” Erskine wiped away a few tears, “and ordered Marlene and Klaus to be sent to Dachau while I was banished to the dungeons.

Fortunately, Agent Carter and the SOE were able to save Marlene and myself. Though Klaus sacrificed himself when the agents could only save one of them.”

“Your son is a hero.”

“I only wish I could’ve told him that myself. But, back to your original question. I chose you because, like Konrad, you are a weak man. You see, the serum amplifies everything; good becomes great and awe-inspiring, bad becomes worse and a nightmare. Men who are strong their entire lives often do not value strength and abuses it. However, a weak man who is compassionate and brave will use it to help others. You were chosen because you had the aforementioned virtues and because you use your mind.

The world does not need perfect soldiers, look where that has gotten us. No, what we need right now are good men.”

Erskine poured out two shots and gave a glass to Steve.

Steve raised his glass, “To the little guys.”

The liquor was just about to touch his lips when Erskine snatched the glass from him, “What are you doing? You have an operation tomorrow. No fluids.”

Steve chuckled as Erskine bid him farewell and good luck tomorrow.

Ife found Steve in the Common Room hunched over a chair with a letter in his hands. Emotional echoes of gloom came off in waves as she approached him.

“Whatcha looking at, Steve?”

When Steve didn’t respond, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

Steve finally turned to Ife, “I received an invite to a funeral. It’s for Marlene Philomena Erskine, Dr. Abraham Erskine’s daughter.”

Ife nodded in understanding; he feels that he failed Marlene by not protecting Dr. Abraham Erskine.

But in fact, he didn’t fail her.

She lived quite the life for a human.

Not long after her father’s assassination, Marlene became a badass mechanical engineer and physicist. Her designs and schematics for transportation vehicles and energy storage/distribution gave the colonizer nations a fighting chance during the Wars Against Colonialism.

Though part of it was because the UA was a little cocky at that point. Marlene sure lit a fire under their ass! Ife can still hear her Aunt Eziamaka pouting at the news of one of UA bases nearly falling into their control.

Marlene’s assistance with the war effort didn’t last long as her gratitude towards the people who saved both her and her father wasn’t enough to overlook the Military’s treatment of some her colleagues.

Her life from there was pretty standard. She became a professor at MIT, got married and had a few kids.

BNA took her off the ‘humans of special interest’ list in 1971.

Thinking back on it, Marlene may have had a better life by her father not making it past WWII.

Though Ife thought it would be wise not to mention this to Steve.

“When is the funeral?”

Steve didn’t raise his head, “It’s in a week.”

“In that case, might I accompany you?”

“Yes...and thank you.”

“No Problem! See you later.” Ife wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug and went on her way leaving Steve slightly bewildered.

Steve didn’t know what to make of Ifekerenma.

She was always asked the team how they were feeling at what seemed to be the right moment. Shoot, she even talked to custodial staff that few of ever acknowledge. Compassionate to nearly everyone, especially the child hostages during the last mission.

She’s nerdy to the point of Sam jokingly calling her a weeb (anime lover?) when she walked around in an oversized Cowboy Bebop t-shirt once. Wanda mentioned a ‘digital friend’ in her room and caught her mentioning how slow Stark’s tech was much to the amusement of team at Tony’s expense.

Steve’s certain Nat sent Clint a video of the whole thing.

Also, she was what Sam called a ‘Supreme Chef’. He contently patted his midsection remembering the feast she prepared for the team last night. Her cooking would’ve put some of Stark’s gourmet chefs to shame. She asked the team what they liked and she ended up having to create a dinner rotation. Steve was especially touched when she went to an antique bookstore for a recipe that was close to what his mother would’ve made for him.

Furthermore, she would leave out little homemade treats/ snacks at night. Pietro and Sam would sneak some when they thought no one was looking. She even giggled when he accidentally let out a huge belch after an amazing dinner a couple nights ago saying it’s a sign of thanks on her home planet, Avlenia.

Ife always called him Steve; not ‘Captain’ or ‘Cap’ or even ‘Good ol’Century Virgin’ (damn it, Tony!). She never made light of him ‘taking an ice nap’ or asking him about the 1940s in a demeaning way like some reporters and ‘little upstarts on social media’. Somehow, Ife found out about his love of drawing and got him art supplies with a list of recommended artists

She made him feel more like a person and not a symbol or a far off figure who’s emotionless.

Steve felt warm whenever he was around her in a way not unlike Bucky or Peggy though much more like Bucky. She seemed to sense that he was desperate to truly be seen in way that only Sam and sometimes Nat has.

It also didn’t hurt that she was a total knockout. He had the, ahem, pleasure of seeing her out of her uniform and training outfits a few times. She usually wore clothes that were more on the modest side...except for that one time when she wore a Sailor Moon crop top and high-waisted shorts as a dare from Nat. Half of the compound was staring and Steve spent most of the day in his quarters nursing a hard on he was so aroused.

And yet, Ife was one of the toughest women he knew; even Nat was a little scared of her (at least, he thinks). She might be the strongest person physically and she doesn’t take shit from people who badmouth her or the team; Agent Roussel learned that the hard way.

All in all, Ife was...something else, someone he wanted to get close to.

The day of Marlene’s funeral started out well enough.

Ife spent the early morning making Sam’s request of cinnamon rolls, sausage, omelettes, waffles, and hash browns since he won the raffle of Vision’s turn as he doesn’t eat.

She was handing out everyone’s first servings (didn’t care what happened afterwards) when she felt Steve’s emotional echoes of depression, melancholy, and despair noting how his eyebrows furrowed and how tense his body language was.

She just hoped she could get to him.

Steve was walking to garage hoping his outfit wasn’t too much.

Nat somehow convinced him into wearing a Highbridge Black Custom Suit with an Eastley Dobbey Blue Shirt, a Black Solid Tie, a Navy Blue Pocket Square, and Ink Black Dress Shoes.

He ‘upped the swoon dial’ as Nat put it. Could’ve sworn he heard Sam snickering.

Steve reached the entrance hoping not to keep Ife waiting when he heard clicking of heels behind him.

He turned around to find Ife looking almost unearthly.

She was wearing a black Ankara (?) dress with a cape that was black on the outside and golden on the inside with various blue, silver, and khaki rectangle clusters. Her hair was mostly contained in a wrap with a few strands framing her lovely face. Her full, plump lips were coated in a Light Plum (?) Matte Lipstick and she wore minimal gold eye shadow.

Her outfit did a splendid job of hinting at her voluptuous curves without needlessly flaunting them like the women who throw themselves at him at press tours.

Ife smiled at him and asked which car were they taking.

Steve motioned to one of the Black SUVs and the two of them strapped in for the three hour car ride.

Ife sighed and gazed out the window at the scenery. Neither one of them had said anything in the past twenty minutes. Steve wasn’t a fan of most of the music that’s on the radio despite Sam’s best efforts. Ife had to break out her puppy dog eyes to get him to let them listen to some instrumental music from her favorite movies.

It seemed that they weren’t going to say anything until Steve cleared his throat.

Ife, not wanting to suffer in silence, decided break it, “How did you know Marlene?”

Steve raided his eyebrows for a split second, “I didn’t. I just feel like I should pay my respects, you know? I mean, I should attend the daughter of the man I failed’s funeral.”

The last sentence struck a chord with Ife. Emotional echoes of despair hit her like a tsunami.

Tentatively, Ife continued, “How did you fail Erskine?”

“I-I don’t think I’ve fulfilled my promise to him. The country has changed so much since I was on ice. It’s funny; I thought that Brave New World would only have a one of two aspects come to life, but I didn’t see nearly the whole book being right.”

Ife didn’t argue with the last two points. The US was nothing but a never-ending commercial sometimes. People were too busy being ‘happy’ or trying to get the newest thrill to realize that they were living in a sham of a republic.

Though she was concerned about the first sentence.

“What was the promise you made to Erskine? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Steve turned slightly, “To be true to who I am; a good man, not a perfect soldier. To be more like Konrad.”

Ife nodded musing on his answer. Erskine would want everyone he helped to be a good person considering the dangers of such power.

Though she wondered if she knew Dr Abraham’s full history.

Abraham Erskine came from a long line of Homo Magis who specialized in Alchemy . He turned to science when it was clear that his magical powers would never manifest (being only 1/16 Homo Magi). Erskine started working on what would become the Super Soldier Serum in 1920 after the witnessing the horrors of WWI firsthand as a medic.

He made a breakthrough in 1927 when he found what looked to be an old power cell in the attic of his childhood home. Turns out it was a modified Atlantean battery dating back to the 1600s, but whatever.

Konrad Jager was the first of nine volunteers; most of whom went on to fight in the Spanish Civil War with the International Brigades and be part of the German Resistance’s Special Forces during WWII.

Needless to say, they were recruited into BNA’s European Division.

Only Eren Kant was deemed a failure in the end.

Ife shook her head at the info in Erskine’s folder.

Eren was pompous dumbass who broke himself out jail by bending/breaking the bars of his cell after getting arrested for being a player and bully by the Munich Police in August of 1935. His show of superhuman strength got Erskine’s work onto the Hitler’s radar. BNA had to send a cleaner to ‘handle’ Eren before he could get everyone in even more trouble.

She wondered if Konrad and the others would make an appearance.

“What do mean by not staying true to yourself?”

Steve sighed, “It seemed a lot easier to do so in my time.”

Ife wanted to go further, but she couldn’t. Steve was punishing himself up for something he couldn't control and it was tragic.

She hoped that she could actually help him, not for the mission, but for himself.

They arrived at the venue twenty minutes early. Steve was trying (failing) to fix his tie while Ife was looking as glamorous and poised as can be.

Sensing Steve’s unease, she gave his hand a comforting squeeze, “You’ll do fine,” she whispered as she fixed his tie while not trying inhale his delicious natural scent like a creep (again).

“Let’s go inside.”

Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing when they entered the venue. Though Ife had to hand it to the guests; no one asked Steve for an autograph or a selfie. She noted several BNA officials and a couple of Earth-based Non-Human big wigs in attendance.

Guess Marlene was popular.

“Ife!” Azeneth shouted as she strode over to from a corner and enveloped her in a hug.

“Azeneth, how are you? I didn’t think you would be back from Mexico City so soon.”

“Well, the mission was short and they wanted me in New York to accompany Eliza here. Now, who is this fine gentleman, Ife?” Azeneth queried while Steve started shifting uncomfortably.

“This is Steve Rogers, one of my new teammates and Ca-”

“Captain America. I know, Ife. I was jesting.”

Ife sighed dramatically while rolling her eyes, “Steve, this is Azeneth. She’s one of my best Earth-based friends.”

“Kickass friend.” Azeneth corrected, “How are you liking Ife? She’s not too much trouble.”

“Stop it, ‘Aze!” Ife playfully hit Azeneth’s shoulder, “Feel free to ignore her, Steve.”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think I will, especially after the stunt you pulled on the first day at the compound.”

Azeneth burst out laughing at Ife’s shocked expression and Steve’s sly grin. She probably would’ve kept goin if not for Eliza cutting into their conversation.

“Excuse us, Mr. Rogers. I’ll have to speak with Ife for a moment. My name’s Eliza Maza, by the way.”

Once they were out of Steve’s line of sight (Azeneth was keeping him busy), Eliza activated a noise canceller.

“So did anyone die in the attack on the Magic Council?” Ife asked as she made sure Steve wasn’t looking at them.

“No one was harmed, but several books are missing from the library.”

“Shit! Okay. Well, would Dr. Strange be available to assist Wanda with her training? Wong and Nazaret are at the Sanctum and he said that he knew of some spells that could help.”

“I’ll look into it. I should have an answer in a week”

“Okay.”

“Ife, please give me a call when you get back to the compound.”

Ife eyed Konrad Jager, Gregor Eisenberg, Sonje Decker, and Lukas Denhart making their way to Steve. She hoped they weren’t going to drop an info bomb on him today.

“I will.”

The service was short and sweet as Marlene didn’t want everyone to be bored to tears on her behalf. The crowd got a laugh out that joke.

Afterwards, Marlene granddaughter, Zahara, requested if Steve could stay for a bit. She gave him a beautifully wrapped package.

“My grandmother wanted you to have this. She saw you fighting in the Battle of New York and knew you would know what to do with it.”

“It would be an honor, Miss.”

Ife thought about her earlier conversation with Steve on the say back. She realized what’s happened to Steve was heartbreaking.

Here was a man who gave up everything for a country that only wants him as a cudgel for their heinous deeds. Someone who, if he hadn’t fallen into the ice, would’ve probably been ruined by the same country he swore to protect. They would’ve labeled him as a communist and destroyed his good name for not immediately getting on board with the next war.

To be honest, Ife didn’t think much of Steve before joining the team. She thought he was just the banner boy for colonizers to feel good; he was the reminder of that brief moment when the US was totally the bad guys (totally being the operative word).

But now?

She saw the toll the helmet and shield had on him. Ife doubted he knew that he was going to be alive for awhile judging how neither Konrad or the others aged a day since they received Serum 1.0 and Steve supposedly got one that was at least 3x as powerful.

She wanted to comfort him somehow, but she was lost on what to do.

When she got back to the compound, she gave Steve a hug and went straight to her quarters to call Eliza.

“Eliza. I can’t do this by myself, and if we’re going to pull this off, I’m going to need some serious backup because the Avengers need some serious help.”

Fury was going through some mission reports when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in.”

Oddly enough, Ife was the one to enter the room and not Maria Hill.

“Good Evening, Fury. I have someone who would like speak with you.”

“Well, give me a name and contact info and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Actually,” Ife reached in her pocket for a disc, “I can do you one better.”

Ife tossed the disc into the air and a moon-door portal formed from it. Out came Eliza, Azeneth, and Angela in her gargoyle form.

Eliza gave Ife a quick nod and turned to Fury, “Good Evening, Nicolas Fury. My name is Eliza Maza and we’re from the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs or BNA. I would advice that you lower your weapon. It won’t do you a lick of good,” Fury lowered his gun,” Good. Put Maria Rambeau on speaker, we need to talk.”

-Somewhere in France-

Maeve was enjoying her brunch while watching the footage of Eliza officially making contact with new SHIELD and SWORD.

“Well, it looks like it’s time to ‘get the band back together’ as the kids would say.” She chirped to the woman across the table.

“That expression pretty much died in the 90s. No ‘kid’ uses that phrase anymore.” Koronis deadpanned.

Maeve scoffed, “Anyone born after 1800 is a ‘child’ to me. This is what I get for trying not to sound like ‘an old hag’ as you put it.”

“Well, is everything on track?”

Koronis, or Carol, closed her eyes for few seconds, “I see nothing standing in our organization’s way. However, we should have the meeting sooner rather than later.”

“Duly noted. Anything else?”

“The new variable, Ifekerenma, will be more useful to our plans than I originally anticipated.”

“Oh, I do love surprises! I mean, I know how it will end, but I still like to be at least a little surprised. I knew it was a good idea to let Klaue be discovered by Ultron in Istanbul!”

Another woman walked up to the pair,”You wanted to see me, Mistress?”

“Yes. Svetlana, call the others. It’s time to put our plan into high gear. Hell’s Moon is upon us.”

Steve was having a shitty birthday.

The press was pestering him about the presidential election. Several outlets have called him a sellout and a coward for not endorsing anyone.

He was figuring out the best way to take a shower and hit the hay in less than 30 minutes when he found a beautifully written note taped to his door.

It said to come to Ife room wearing his best dancing clothes.

Ten minutes later, Steve knocked on her door and it instantly opened to reveal a modest dancing hall not unlike the ones he went to with Bucky before the war.

He was so lost in thoughts admiring the place that he failed to notice Ife hovering a few feet from him.

“Happy Birthday, Steve! How do you like it?”

Steve turned to see Ife in a knee-length golden yellow African Wax Print Ankara dress with cold shoulders, ruffled sleeves, and a v-neckline. He didn’t miss the modest view of her cleavage or how her legs looked oh, so smooth in the dress.

Ife, for her part, was super nervous about this. Nat said that people went to dance halls all the time in the late 1930s and 1940s and it took her five days to get the architecture, the music, and the lighting just right.

She hoped that Steve wouldn’t be angry with her.

Steve looked incredibly handsome in his simple dress shirt and slacks. His powerful shoulders, thick biceps, trim waist, and beefy thighs were accentuated by the lighting which made him look like he was glowing.

Ife would’ve drooled if she knew that he didn’t like it when most women would throw themselves at him.

“It’s amazing. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry about the dress. I couldn-”

Steve raised a hand to stop her from going off on a tangent,”You look beautiful.”

Ife felt a flurry of warmth in her core at the compliment.

“So, what would like to do?”

Before Steve could answer, Duke Ellington’s Don’t Mean a Thing starting playing.

Steve stretched out his hand, “Would you like to dance?”

Ife took his had and they glided onto the dance floor.

“Where did you learn to dance?”

“Bucky’s mom made us learn when Bucky started getting attention from the girls at school. She thought it best that we knew how to treat them to a good time.”

“I see,” Ife giggled, “Then she was wise to make take the lessons. Though I’m more familiar with the jitterbug.”

Steve chuckled as they resumed swinging. He hummed a bit as they danced to Ella Fitzgerald, Caro Emerald, Jo Stafford, Billie Holiday, and Gene Krupa.

Ife was impressed with Steve’s dancing skills. What were those women thinking passing him up like that?!

After a couple more rounds of dancing, the music shifted to something more modern but not (it was Howl’s Moving Castle’s Main Theme) , the colors on the walls and ceiling brightened, and several chandeliers formed on the ceiling.

Steve gave Ife a slightly confused look and asked her if she would like to try a waltz this time.

The song lasted a little more than five minutes. Steve was somehow able to lead their movements in sync with the song.

Ife felt her body was aflame with gentle yet commanding touches Steve was giving her. He even lifted her a few times making her feel as though she was flying with how gently he held her.

They were absorbed in their own world they either failed to notice or ignored Nat and Wanda entering Ife room to see if they could have another spa day. Nat even got a few pictures of the two dancing.

Steve gave Ife one last life during the climax and pulled her in when the music came to a close. They were about to come in for a kiss when Ife pressed her lips together and back away.

“We should probably retire for evening. Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped in defeat, but left Ife’s room with a simple goodnight with Nat and Wanda in tow.

Ife frowned. She knew Steve wasn’t in the best place for a relationship and her conscience wouldn’t let her take advantage of that.

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roseinaugust · 3 years

Text

Like an Old Enemy

Chapter Eight: You Can Bring The Trowel

Summary: Miraculous Enemies AU. Gabriel Agreste has the Black Cat Miraculous in his possession, so when his wife, Emilie, "disappears," he sends his son, Adrien, undercover to pose as Ladybug's partner. Two years later, the once famous duo are sworn enemies. Marinette might have loved Chat Noir once, but now she would stop at nothing to defeat him. Adrien will do whatever it takes to bring his mother back. Best friends in their civilian lives, Adrien and Marinette find obstacles and complications when they can no longer deny their love for each other. But will they be able to understand and forgive the mistakes of their past? Or will they be doomed to end as bitter rivals a second time?

Rated: T

Pairings: Ladybug/Chat Noir Enemies, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Mutual Pining

Word Count: 7,619

Read on: ao3

A/N: I am only posting part of this chapter on tumblr so please read the rest on ao3!

Marinette never ate the ice cream Andre had given her. So, why was Chat Noir on her balcony?

There was really only one possible answer: he knew her identity. Her plan with the Black Potion seemed foolproof but he must have seen something or figured it out, biding his time until he had the perfect opportunity to attack when she was vulnerable. He probably followed her all night, lurking in the shadows as she made a fool of herself in front of her friends. She wouldn’t put it past him and Hawkmoth if they turned out to be the reason why Adrien couldn’t come in the first place; they always orchestrated plans like that.

What was she going to do? Should she transform and fight him here on her cramped balcony? If he already knew her identity, then this was it. There would be no escape into the night to regroup; it would be over, and she would need every bit of Ladybug’s strength to finish it.

But what if he didn’t know? It seemed improbable, but if there was even the smallest chance her identity hadn’t been compromised, shouldn’t she take the risk to protect it? She could lose precious time as a civilian, but until she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chat Noir knew she was Ladybug, she couldn’t transform.

Now that left her with the task of deciding what to do with him. She glanced, ever so slightly, over her shoulder to gauge how far away he was. He was only a single—albeit large—step away, standing directly in the middle of her balcony. It was time to stop thinking, time to act instead.

“Marinette?” Chat Noir said again, raising his right arm as if to tap her on the shoulder.

She stepped backwards until her back was nearly flush to his chest. Her left hand circled around his outstretched wrist as her right locked underneath his bicep. Before he could even process what was happening, Marinette dropped her weight, pulling Chat Noir over her shoulder. He let out an oof of pain as he landed on the solid ground of her terrace. His metallic black ring glittered, catching the moonlight on his outstretched hand.

Before she could move to take the ring, Chat Noir hooked his legs around her ankles, sending her plummeting to the hard surface, her head barely missing the corner of the flower box. Pain jolted through her back, but she gritted her teeth and looked for a way out of her predicament. As a civilian, she couldn’t overpower Chat Noir, and she no longer had the element of surprise.

What she needed was a weapon.

Chat Noir was already on his feet, his cat-like reflexes giving him an advantage. In a blink of an eye, he was hovering over her. This was it. He was going to kill her. She was going to die and she had spent her last day on earth acting like a brat because of some stupid ice cream. He grinned as he grew closer, that easy-going charm that masked the cruelty beneath. If she was going to die, she would give one hell of a fight going down.

She swiftly reached for the discarded trowel next to her, brandishing it in front of her with straight arms. Chat Noir veered back as the point of the gardening tool found its way to the sliver of exposed skin at his throat. He blinked at her in astonishment. Marinette was still laying on her back; Chat Noir was still too close. The only way out of her position would be to transform. “Are you still mad that I threw a rock at you?” She baited, throwing one last-ditched attempt to see if he knew her identity.

He blinked once more, then burst into laughter. His eyes squeezed shut and his shoulders bounced, the sound of his laugh harsh against the quiet night. She longed just moments ago to hear that sound. Now, though it was just as melodic as before, it left a bitter taste in her mouth. How quickly her desires changed when confronted with reality. Chat Noir plucked the trowel out of her hands, super-strength overpowering her grip, and dropped it onto a nearby table carelessly. Weaponless and defenseless, Marinette sucked in a breath, accepting the limited options she had left. There was only one: transform and fight.

Before she could say the transformation words, she was lifted off the ground effortlessly. Arms held aloft for balance, Marinette found herself on her feet once more. She eyed Chat Noir as he moved to the opposite side of the terrace, distancing himself from her. What is he playing at? He took one look at Marinette’s defensive stance and laughed, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He had her completely defenseless and chose to help her up. Maybe he really didn’t know she was Ladybug… She straightened but kept her eyes fixed on him, poised for any sudden movement. “You already have.” He hurt her in more ways than he knew.

“Sorry,” he apologized. He looked genuinely sorry for causing her pain, but she would never know what was genuine when Chat Noir was concerned. “But you had me in quite a compromising position.” He said, returning to his typical laissez-faire attitude. He held up his right hand, waggling his fingers to show off the Ring of the Black Cat. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Akuma self defense class.” She answered curtly, thankful for the few afternoons she managed to convince Alya and Alix to join her. She was plenty strong and quite adept at fighting, but she wanted to be prepared as Marinette in case she was unable to transform.

“Came in handy.”

“Yeah, well it’s not like I expected a supervillain to show up on my balcony.” She crossed her arms, playing into the annoyed civilian act she used during Evillustrator and Syren. “What are you doing here, Chat Noir?”

“Oh you know, the life of a villain gets boring sometimes. Lonely even.” That lazy grin that once made Marinette feel safe and secure, unsettled her now.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she lied. She was very much afraid, but she would never show it to him.

Chat Noir watched her intently before saying, “I know.”

Marinette’s skin prickled, annoyance and anger setting in at the surety of his statement. “Don’t pretend like you know me,” she bristled.

He abandoned his spot on the terrace, making his way to her at a crawl. She held her ground. If she backed away, he would see her fear. He was only a step away when he spoke again, just above a whisper: “And what if I’m not pretending?”

A pause.

Then a flurry of action.

Marinette ducked around Chat Noir, maneuvering her body away until it was next to the table. She grabbed for the trowel again, but he was too fast. He was on her in a blink of an eye, spinning her to face him. His chest flat against hers, so close she saw his eyes dilate in the dim glow of her string lights. Her wrist held in his hand, a firm grip that pressed into her, demanding she release the weapon. “Tsk tsk, Marinette,” he ducked his head to whisper in her ear. His breath sent a shiver down her spine. “I told you that I wouldn’t hurt you. Don’t you trust me?”

“No.” She stated flatly. All her attention was focused on keeping her hold on the tool, but it was no use. As Marinette, she couldn’t compete with Chat Noir, and released it. It clattered to the floor between them and Chat Noir let go of her wrist in favor of retrieving it. With it in his grasp, he moved away from her and perched on the railing.

“Smart girl,” He used the tip of the trowel to clean underneath his claws. She rolled her eyes, exasperated with the stupid cat’s jokes. His costume covered the underneath of his claws. “But you can. Trust me, that is.”

“And why’s that?” She scoffed. If there was one thing she couldn’t do, it was trust Chat Noir.

“Well, I’ve already saved your life twice. Seems kinda stupid to start hurting you now.” He stated as if this was the most logical answer.

“So why did you? Doesn’t it go against your image to save civilians?” She sneered, emphasizing the ‘civilian’ aspect to distance herself from a certain spotted superhero.

“Yes, which is why it’s our little secret.” He winked at her, lounging on top the railing as if he owned the place.

“Why did you save me?” Marinette stepped forward. “You never answered me last week during Syren’s akuma.”

He sat up, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “That’s not true. I gave you an answer.”

“You said you didn’t want me to die.” She took another step forward. Chat Noir held his neutral expression, refusing to comment. “Why? You don’t care about civilians dying. So why save me?”

That finally got a reaction out of him. He slipped off the railing to face her head on. “You don’t know what I care about.”

She moved closer again, brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of him. “What are you saying? That you care about me?” He clenched his jaw, silent under the night sky, neither confirming nor denying her question. She searched his eyes for an answer but they were unreadable—a mysterious storm of green that masked his emotions. “Why? What makes me different?”

He broke first, turning around to look out over the city. “Everything,” he breathed, so quiet she could barely hear him.

Marinette’s mind reeled. How could he possibly feel like this? Although she has known him for years, Chat Noir only just met Marinette less than a month ago. Evillustrator felt like a different lifetime, but in reality it’s only been a few weeks. His words from earlier rung in her head, and what if I’m not pretending? Was it possible that she knew Chat Noir in his civilian identity? Or is this just part of another scheme to take the Miraculous?

Her temper flared at the inability to solve this puzzle. She’s had enough of these games, enough of this back and forth dance, circling around the situation. “Why did you really come here?” At his silence, she marched over to the iron railing. There was still a considerable distance between them, but her presence demanded answers.

He shrugged, turning his head slightly to see her. “You looked upset.”

She hadn’t meant to laugh, but the sheer ridiculousness of that statement made it impossible to contain. “What? You thought you would cheer me up?”

His lip twitched before plastering on his trademarked grin. “You don’t like me,” he stated casually.

Marinette didn’t know if that was strictly true. Like and dislike. Love and hate. The concepts were all so interwoven and complex it was impossible to tell them apart anymore. The way she felt about him now as he stood before her—though she couldn’t quite tell if she even felt anything other than the necessity of survival—was not the same as she felt walking home that evening. Was there even a word that could encapsulate all her thoughts about him? One word to describe the masochistic ache of missing someone who hurt you in immeasurable ways? Was there a phrase to relate to the quick-fire shifts in her emotions; from loathe to longing to bitterness all in the blink of an eye? Marinette didn’t think it was possible to summarize all her history with Chat Noir into a simple ‘like.’ Instead she asked, “Am I supposed to?”

Taking her response as a confirmation of her dislike, Chat Noir resumed nonchalance. “That’s your opinion, even if it’s the wrong one to have.”

“I didn’t realize my opinion mattered.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he shifted, turning his back to the night sky and leaned against the iron railing. “So,” He started, changing the conversation, “what has you crying alone on your balcony?”

She reddened, embarrassed of being perceived in such a vulnerable state with out her knowledge. She had cried in front of him before, but that was as Ladybug, when she had anonymity and the security of her mask. But this, him seeing her as Marinette during what she thought was a private moment, suddenly felt like a violation. It was wrong. It was all wrong. He was never supposed to see her as Marinette. Never supposed to have access to this part of her life. That was supposed to be secret—sacred, even—yet here he was, intruding. “How did you even know I was crying? Were you spying on me?” She asked defensively.

“What? No, no!” He was flustered. “I swear. Hawkmoth sent me to this area. I was positioned over there,” he pointed to the school rooftop across the street, “and saw you come out to the balcony crying.” She narrowed her eyes at him. It could all be a lie obviously, but the rational part of her brain poked holes in her own theories. How would Hawkmoth and Chat Noir have known she would come out to her balcony tonight? She was unsettled, but she needed to see what information she could get out of him. Why had Hawkmoth sent him to this area? She couldn’t ask him that yet, he would deflect or outright refuse to answer. Marinette needed to gain his trust but it had to seem like he was earning hers too.

“What makes you think I would even tell you what was wrong?”

He shrugged, tilting his head up to look into the night sky. A breeze blew through the air, lifting Marinette’s hair but she didn’t move to push it back. “Sometimes,” he started after a pause, “it’s easier to talk about your problems with a stranger.”

Her breath hitched. Here was her opening. It might be shot down but there wouldn’t be a better opportunity to ask. The possibility that she knew Chat in his civilian identity quickened her heartbeat. What if he was someone she was friends with? Would it be akin to a second betrayal? Another friendship ruined by the strange circumstances she found herself in?

While the prospect terrified her, it would also give her a starting point to uncover his identity. For the past year, she’s had nothing but dead ends, overwhelmed by the vast amount of possible suspects in the city. If she knew him, if he was someone in her life, it narrowed her search. Possibly enough for her to find out once and for all who wore the Black Cat Ring. She inhaled deeply, building her courage to ask, “Are we really strangers though?”

For a while he didn’t say anything. His silence was making her anxious and she was suddenly aware of how cold the night air was. With his sly grin cemented on his face, he straightened and turned to her, holding out his empty hand. “Come with me,” he said with a step forward.

A/N: Reminder that this is only part of the chapter so read the rest here

#Miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #ml enemies au #ladynoir enemies #adrienette mutual pining #marichat #ladynoir #adrienette #angst fic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #my fic #like an old enemy

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 5: Now I’m in Exile

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 8,310

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.

The calling tone reverberated in your hand as the beaming grin on your face mirrored on the screen. With every passing second, your anticipation grew. You couldn’t control your fidgeting so you took a deep breath and-

“Hey, boo!” Natasha’s voice modulated.

You lifted your right hand to the front camera’s level, revealing the rose golden Cartier wrapped finger as it glimmered under the light.

“Oh my God! Did he…?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “I’m engaged, Nat!”

Natasha put a hand over her mouth, “holy shit! Girl, I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!” the gaiety on her face was palpable, you could feel it through the screen. There’s a reason why she and Wanda were the first people you passed the happy news to. After your parents of course.

“Thank you so much! I can’t believe it. Eight months ago, I thought I’d be single forever but here I am…”

“Yeah, things escalated quickly for you! Now you are someone’s fiancee and seven months pregnant. It’s mind-boggling,” she spoke like a proud sister. “I’m beyond happy for you. Really, I am.”

“I know this is probably too soon but, will you be my maid of honour, Nat?”

“You know damn well there’d be no wedding if you didn’t ask me to. Hell yeah, I will!”

“Ah, yes!” you hurrayed in excitement. “Alright, I’ll catch up to you later, okay? I gotta call Wanda too.”

“Do whatever you want boo, it’s your day.”

You hung up the phone and went through your contacts list, then clicked the phone number under Wanda’s name. The excitement bubbled up in your chest as you pictured the smile on her face when she sees the new lustrous thing on your finger.

Eight months earlier…

“Hey, y/n. It’s me, Adrian. It was a pleasure meeting you last night. How is the dress doing?”

“She is going for a dry cleaner. It was lovely to meet you too, except for the drink-spilling stain of course.”

“Sorry about that. But it got me your number and I would’ve done it again if that’s what it costs.”

You smiled down at your phone under the warm glow of the morning sunlight. “You showed me pictures of your dogs and cat so it’s a win-win situation for us both.” Wink emoji.

“Perhaps you and I could chat more about my dogs and my cat over a cup of coffee?”

“Will you promise you won’t spill the coffee on my shirt this time?”

“You have my word.”

“I’ll consider it, then.”

“Next Friday, at 7 PM. Write that down on your calendar.”

“I didn’t even say yes.”

He sent an adorable picture of his pomeranian dog looking up at him with pleading eyes. “How can you say no to this face?”

“Say no more. I’ll see you next Friday.”

Two weeks after the date.

You regurgitated your guts out in the toilet bowl and held up your hair, trying not to let the vomit splotch a strand of it. This was the third time you had to run to the loo to spew the queasiness in your body. You felt dizziness clouding your head. What the hell is wrong with your body? This had been a daily occurrence for the past one week.

You sat on the toilet lid after everything you swallowed earlier was out. You recollected every food that had made its way into your digestion the past couple of days… Did you eat something inedible? Perhaps that ice cream in your refrigerator had passed its expiration date, but you only bought it three days ago at the grocery store and you swore it could still last for two more months.

Maybe that shrimp that you ate at the Chinese restaurant with Adrian last night was stale. Ugh, you’re gonna need to talk to Adrian about this but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Perhaps, it was just another sickness caused by an unknown bad food.

But you also retrospected the shift in your body for the past couple of weeks. Your period was late this month… It should’ve started three days ago, what is happening? Could it be…? Oh no, there’s no way. You and Adrian hadn’t even moved it to the bedroom yet, so that means… If you are, then… It must be… Steve’s.

Oh hell no.

You recalled, the last time you and Steve met up for your weekly (sometimes more) hookup appointment was the day after you and Adrian met up for a coffee, which was your very first date with him. You didn’t know there would be plenty more to come so you went to what you had planted your soles so deep in, which was Steve Rogers’s penthouse in the upper east.

He had you on top with your arse facing him because he enjoyed the view better than your face. You struggled to bounce yourself up and down on his massive size. He could be such a sluggard sometimes but a man like him would always get his way, and if he needed to fuck out some tension, then he’d use you as a masturbation aid for as long as he wanted.

His grip on your hips was ruthless, you knew it was going to cause some bruises tomorrow but you couldn’t care any less. Not when he was pulling you down this deep that you could feel him penetrating your womb. His grunts filled your ears with eroticism and you picked up your pace to help him reach his climax. You shut your eyes with your mouth hanging open as soft moans escaped through your lips. You clenched around him and you felt his cock throbbed, you knew it was coming. Literally. Your coil shattered just a few seconds before he released his seed deep inside you. He pulled out and went to the bathroom to clean himself up and left you rumpled on the couch.

He left to Atlanta the next day to shoot a new movie. Something about an organization reinforced by the Nazi during World War II, and how the Captain leads an elite combat unit to the battle against an organization called Hydra. You didn’t know that until you looked it up on the internet.

You hadn’t received another booty call for him ever since. He was probably sleeping with twenty-something-year-olds models in Atlanta though.

And you had made peace with the tragic reality you were stuck in. You had accepted the reality that you and Steve were like riding down a dead-end street. There was no making love on Sunday mornings and have brunch together afterwards. There was no settling down in a countryside house where your kids could run around barefoot on the front yard. There was no marriage vows and walking down the aisle in white for you.

But all that changed when you decided to take a pregnancy test and the result revealed that you were indeed pregnant. You took three more and the results were all the same. Fucking hell. What the hell are you going to do now?

You had to call Steve, right? He was the father after all. You couldn’t tell Adrian because he would despise you for sleeping with another man and possibly carrying his child and he probably would never want to talk to you anymore. He’d probably regret knowing you at all. And you didn’t want to send him away. You liked him, he was good for your heart and the more you explored him, the more mesmerized you become by his magnetic force.

You were distraught. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know whom to call, so you just sat there in the tenebrosity of your room, out of options and out of clue.

Eventually, you collected your nerves and you dialled Steve’s number. He didn’t answer. He told you once that he didn’t like being called unless he called you first so you never did, but this time, you had to speak to him. “Please, pick up…” you prayed while on the verge of breaking down completely.

You were directed to his voice mailbox.

“This is Steve Rogers and if I’m not picking up that probably means you shouldn’t be calling me.”

Beep. “Hey Steve, I’m really sorry for calling you this late but I really need to talk to you. Please, it’s urgent.”

Three hours later and there were still no callbacks. You had sent him twenty-eight text messages and his voice mailbox was full. If you waited one more goddamn second, you’d lose your mind. So you picked up your phone and bit the bullet and typed the words; “I’m pregnant and you are the father. Please call me back so we can talk about it.”

It was around 4.30 AM when you checked the time on your lock screen. You were fatigued; both physically and emotionally. You had to unwind from every quandary that impinged you today. It was a lot and you were at a complete loss, but you’ll figure it out tomorrow.

You didn’t sleep well that night, you kept waking up whilst it was still dark out, and you had to wake up at 7.30 tomorrow for work. You kept looking at the sleek device that was left unmuted on your bedside table in case Steve called back. He didn’t though. You only slept for an hour and you really wanted to take a day off but you’d lose your mind if you were left alone with your thoughts and no distraction. So you got out of bed, took a shower and prepared for work, with your thoughts filled with the future of this baby growing inside you and Steve. Why hasn’t he called back or even text at all? Does he really think so little of you?

The impulse to check your phone and call and text him every five minutes was adamantine. You tried to control the itch of sending him another text and voicemail but it failed until you read the words ‘not delivered’ in red under the last text message that you just sent. You tried to resend it over and over again and even tried to write a new message but it was the same result.

You moved to your call feature but after a single ring, you were diverted to voicemail. It took you a few seconds to realize that Steve had blocked you. You went to the last media to reach out to him and it was through his Instagram account. You didn’t even follow each other and you were certain that he received thousands of DMs and notifications every day from his obsessive fans. He had 39 million followers for God’s sakes, the hell is one message from you going to mean anything?

But you were despondent and you needed someone to go through this with, especially the father himself. You did it anyway without thinking twice and told him that you were pregnant and you needed to talk to him. You even sent a picture of those three pregnancy tests and attached it on your message. You couldn’t stop biting your lip and tapping your foot throughout the entire way to your work in the train. Man, were you really going to raise this child alone?

Three days later and still no signs of him attempting to return your messages. You had slowly accepted your fate that you were going to carry and raise this child alone. You still hadn’t told Adrian despite talking to him every day and it crushed your heart whenever you heard his elated tone. You could tell that he was really into you and he wanted to take this relationship further but sorrowfully, one way or another, you were going to have to tell him the secret growing in your belly and you were going to have to slaughter this exquisite potential. You wondered if the circumstances were different or you had met at another time or in another universe, would Adrian be the one you were meant to be with?

You made a promise to yourself that you were going to meet him tomorrow and tell him the truth. Delaying it wouldn’t make it any easier and it wouldn’t prevent the doom from happening. If anything, it would only elongate the hurt. So you picked up your phone after you cerebrated it on your mind and clicked on Adrian’s chat room; “meet me at the Drive Brew Cafe tomorrow? Got something I’d like to talk about.”

“Is it something really urgent or you’re just looking for an excuse to see me?” Wink emoji.

“Oh, stop flattering yourself. We really need to talk.”

“Usually, I’d ask a person the matter before I’d decide that it’s important enough for me to meet them in person but I’m giving you a pass.”

“Very generous of you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

You arrived ten minutes earlier than the time you both agreed to meet at. The cafe wasn’t too crowded, thank God, so you immediately ordered a cup of Machiatto for Adrian and a cup of hot chocolate to calm your nerves. After the barista called your name, you walked to the corner booth before anyone could occupy it first. You were going to need some privacy. You sat as your hands trembled from edginess. You couldn’t stop fidgeting and tapping your foot as the second passed by on the clock.

Exactly on 6.30 PM, a dashing brunet in a dark grey vest and rolled-up sleeves entered and you stood up to greet him. He just came home from work and man, it was impossible for him to ever look bad even for once, you were so lucky but life just kept finding a way to eliminate the people you cared about.

“Hey, you look good.” his British accent was thick. He kissed your cheek and embraced you with a warm smile.

“So do you. How was work?” You both sat on the opposite chairs of the booth.

“The ordinary. We had a meeting with a director of this historical film to get us to fund the project. How was yours?” The genuinely curious look on his face nearly changed your mind. Oh, how you wish you could hold on to this moment where you could still have him a little longer.

“Nothing new, just another day at work. This one’s for you by the way.” You didn’t know what more to say when your mind was cluttered so you stalled by passing over his drink.

“So, what’s so important that you needed to see me?”

“Adrian, you know, I really like you, right?” you took his hand in yours as you stared into his striking eyes. “And I’ll always be grateful that you were foolish enough to ruin my dress that night.”

He was perplexed. His eyebrows were furrowed. “As much as I enjoy your companion, I’m sure that you didn’t call me to meet you only to thank me for wrecking your dress, right?”

“Yeah, but um… I just, it’s been wonderful knowing you. And… Oh God, this is going a lot harder than I thought.”

He nodded. A dejected look on his face that you wished you could wipe out. “Let me save you the trouble… You are breaking up with me.” He didn’t say it as if he was guessing, he said it as if it was a declaration that he’d figured out before you could even formulate the words.

“Adrian… I’m pregnant. And you’re not the father, so don’t worry. I know when you first asked me out, this isn’t what you signed up for. So I’m setting you free. I’m sorry.”

You expected him to get up and walk out of the door, leaving you with your alienation but none of that was detected on his expression or his body language. “Who is the father?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Adrian…”

“Don’t I at least deserve to know who my girlfriend is sleeping with before I even took her to my bed?”

Girlfriend. Huh. Well, that’s first.

“Steve Rogers.”

“Steve Rogers the actor?”

“Yes…”

He snickered. That drew a mystification out of you. “What’s so funny?”

“So you’re into the arsehole type.”

“…How do you know what kind of person he is?”

“The movie that we had a meeting about today? He’s going to star in it and I’ve met him a couple of times at some parties. Not the nicest guy, eh?”

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

He sipped a bit of his coffee. “How did you get involved with a bloke like him?”

So you told him everything; the beginning of your friendship, the fallout, the moment he took your V-card in your dorm, and how years later, he still had you on a chokehold. He didn’t seem to mind one bit that the woman that he had been seeing had a history with someone. He’d dealt with much worse scenarios in his former dating lives. He wasn’t going to let other man’s neglected baby stand in the way of what could be something beautiful.

“I’m not walking away.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m staying. I like you and I know you feel the same way too. We are going to raise this baby together. No child deserves to grow up fatherless. I’m going to be its father.”

“Adrian, but…”

“No buts, we’ll get through this together. Now, let’s enjoy these tasty drinks before they get cold, yeah?”

So you nodded, too dumbstruck by the man before you. You drank your hot chocolate that was cooling down and let his presence soothe you better than the sweet drink on your tongue.

Steve went back to New York after spending nearly four months in Atlanta, shooting his movie. Man, he’d lost count on how many extras he had fucked in his hotel room but nothing felt as good as your pussy. He thought about your last text before he blocked you. You had claimed that you were pregnant with his baby. You must’ve lost your mind to think that he’d buy that shit.

So he picked up his phone, unblocked your number and pressed the call button. Three dial tones and a familiar voice answered. “Hello?”

“Hey baby, meet me at my place tonight.”

“Who is this?”

“Hillarious, y/n. I’m too fucking tired for jokes okay? Come here and suck my cock then maybe I’ll listen to your jokes.”

“Is this Steve Rogers?”

“Fuck yeah, it’s me, y/n. Who else do you think I am?”

A pause jammed the line. “I’m done, Steve.”

“What? The fuck do you mean you’re done?”

“I sent you thousands of texts and calls five months ago and you couldn’t even lift your fingers to answer.”

“I was in the middle of shooting, y/n. You know better than to call me while I’m working.”

“Oh, screw you, Steve. I’m pregnant and you didn’t even care? How much of an asshole can you be?”

“You were actually serious about that?”

“Of course you think I was joking. But don’t worry, it’s none of your concern now. We’re done. Don’t call me anymore.”

“Wait, wait! Y/N!” you cut off the line. “Ah shit.”

He tried to call five more times and you neglected every single one of them. In fact, you instantly blocked his number after the last phone call with him. You didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. You thought that Steve had forgotten about you since he blocked your number first so you never had to do it yourself. But of course, an entitled scoundrel such as he is would never stop taking and taking until you had nothing more to give.

It took you years of anguish, an unforeseen mishap and a beautiful stranger that ended up being the stupendous love you’d been looking for to open your eyes to the rotten core of Steve Roger’s heart. He ever only lusted for your flesh, he never gave a shit about you as a person.

You lived for the hope of it all, you cancelled plans just in case he’d call, and you never once suspected the pitfall, but you were no longer that foolish girl anymore. You had met a real man now and he led you to the path of love and happiness and Steve was no longer the most intrinsic thing on your mind.

Steve was going apeshit. He had never been rejected or denied before, he always had it so effortlessly. Especially by you. He thought he’d always have you by the palm of his hand, he thought whenever he asked you to jump, you’d always say “how high?”, he thought whenever you’d think about walking near to the door, you’d always turn around with a few sensual touches and sugarcoated words, but the renunciation that came out of your mouth sting like a bitch and he didn’t like his ego being trampled over.

He went to sleep later that night, dreaming about caressing you and kissing you as a lover would. Never once did he ever have such a dream about anyone before. Maybe he belonged to you more than he had realized all this time.

It was his fourth time this week of standing on the street of your apartment building after you returned his plenteous gifts that you certainly never even asked for or needed. Why would you? You could easily buy that necklace jewellery, that overpriced velvet dress, and those designer shoes with your own money. And even if you couldn't, your boyfriend could easily afford all those things for you too. But that motherfucker used his money to buy you shoddy gifts such as poorly designed accessories and tacky books and yet you happily accepted them? What a closefisted fool.

But who are we kidding? The sole reason why you didn’t accept those gifts is that you no longer cared about him. Those inducements didn’t work on you anymore. You were much happier with a better man now. What do you have to lose?

Rather than dwelling in self-pity and resentment, he hid in Range Rover in a black baseball cap and Tom Ford shades from the paparazzi and waited. Waited for her to come out. He had been religiously stalking every social media you had from another private account to track your activities. The last photo you posted on your Instagram was a picture of you and the scary college roommate of yours that he’d forgotten the name of. It was last Saturday.

“Always a delight to catch up with this one. Love you @natasharomanoff.”

under 281 likes and 32 comments. He scrolled through every single one of them and searched for any clue that might indicate your next move. Found one.

Wandamaximoff: “Don’t forget about me!! :(” so they are still friends apparently.

Natasharomanoff: “Same time next week? 💕”

“Absolutely,” you replied to the red-head.

Gotcha. He’ll be there.

So here he was, waiting for you to come out of that building to grab an Uber because he knew you weren’t so into driving. Except for that late-night rendevous of course, because he told you once that he’d hate for a single soul to know there was something going on between you and him. You were a secret and he’d like to keep it that way. Sooner or later, people are gonna talk and headlines are going to break the internet.

Two minutes later, you stepped out wearing a beige coloured cable knit cardigan and a grey jersey maxi dress underneath with a necklace around your neck. He couldn’t see it from this distance but the item had made a few appearances in some of your recent Instagram posts, and he already knew that you wore it wherever you go. It was an initial necklace of the letter ‘A’ in silver.

He hated the arising thought but he couldn’t help but think how ethereal you looked in your casual, maternal clothes. Perhaps even more than when you wore those petite dresses that always made you look uncomfortable whenever you wore them. You walked with grace and there’s this elegance that you just exuded without trying too hard. You could be wearing the most boring clothes or doing the most mundane things like looking down at your phone to text your Uber driver and you’d still look enchanting.

Man, how could he had been so blind all this time?

It shredded his heart even worse knowing that the growing fetus in your belly was his, but when that baby borns, another man would hold it instead of him and the kid would grow to learn that another man was its father instead of him. That motherfucker. He didn’t have any right in raising that baby. You were bearing his child. Not Adrian’s. You belonged to him. You always did. Fate had interlaced your paths long before you were given birth to this world. No one knew you better than him and vice versa. Not even that former roommate of yours or Wanda. Only him. He had to have you back. Whatever it takes.

He was so inflamed with debt and feebleness of his childhood that he turned into someone he used to loathe when he was younger. He strayed so far away from the path that his mom had paved for him to walk in and he wasted the one good thing in his life that kept him going when he had nothing. But he couldn’t turn back now, couldn’t cross out the mistakes that he did. The best he could do is make use of what he is capable of now and utilize it cleverly.

A scheme was formed in his head… He’d have you back in no time. One way or another.

Months went by and his patience emaciated. He had it all drawn out in his head but he had to be very careful. If he rushed or stepped on the wrong stone, he’d end up being decapitated and his career would burn to ashes. Especially with how the paparazzi and the media were always busting up his ass, like hunters with foxes. He couldn’t have that. He had worked too hard to see it all crumble beneath his feet.

He rejected all film projects and public appearances offered by his agent slash good friend, Sam Wilson. Sam was getting a little frustrated by Steve for being unreasonable. He was his most ambitious client, never one to say no to a good script and occasions that could advance his career and generate more profit for both of them.

But after he returned from Atlanta for his last movie, he had been shutting most people out. Sam was always his most trusted confidant, he was his agent, after all, it was his responsibility to make sure the client that earned him the most income was well in health and aptitude. But he was scratching his head trying to get Steve to open up to him.

Sick of Steve’s shortcoming, he called Steve and told him to come to the office.

“Fuck off, Sam. Why can’t you just talk on the phone?”

“Get your ass down here or I will come to your house myself.”

He groaned and hauled himself to Sam’s office, not in the mood for Sam’s garrulous nagging.

Steve knocked on Sam’s door and he saw Sam sitting in his usual black and white attire in his ergonomic chair. He had a frown on his face instead of his usual conceited womanizer charm. “What’s with the long face?” Sam asked.

“Nothing. I’m just worn out.”

“Cut the bullshit. Last time you got your ass to work was six months ago. What the hell is happening with you?”

“I just haven’t found any good script that interests me, Sam. And I told you, I needed a short break. I’ve been travelling nonstop for the past few years to shoot films and press tours, and now I just need to hit the pause button.”

“The Steve Rogers I know isn’t one to rest. He was power-hungry and always craved for more. You also rejected an Oscar potential role. Something’s going on and it’s deeper than just needing a break. C’mon, talk to me man. As a friend, not as your agent. Let me help you.”

It took him a few seconds to brace himself. He didn’t need to tell him the entire truth, he just had to ask Sam fora favour and then the Steve Rogers that made him millions would come back. “You know anyone who’s good at editing photos?”

“…What?” Sam was perplexed.

“Just let me know, Sam. You got any connections to editing experts? Hook me up.”

“What is fueling this?” Sam was bewildered. He looked at Steve like he had just grown two heads out of nowhere.

“Just trust me on this one, alright? You link me to a good editor and business will back as usual.”

“I know a guy.”

Your bachelorette party was fun. You, Natasha, Wanda and a few of your fellow colleagues were invited to the tea party at the garden of The Berkeley in London, which is the hometown of your fiance. You loved London and you always had such a good time whenever you paid it a visit with Adrian.

Now that the weekend was over, it was time to pick up little Nathan from your parents’ house. A beautiful baby boy was born three months ago and he was your parents’ joy. You never told them that the real father was the scrawny kid who used to lounge around on their couch every Wednesday afternoon when there was nothing much to do. Your parents loved Adrian as their own and it was all that mattered.

This baby is going to grow up with so much love from his parents and grandparents. From your chosen family who will become his aunties and uncles. He is going to be raised right in gentleness, affection, and sincerity. And it would never matter how he was conceived into this world in the first place.

You refused to leave this baby for more than five minutes but Wanda and Nat kept insisting that you needed some time for your own. One bachelorette party wouldn’t hurt. It’s only one weekend. Besides, your grandparents were obsessed with baby Nathan and they were going to take such good care of him while you were away, celebrating your single life with your girlfriends before you spend the rest of it with someone.

Now you were back home, you couldn’t wait to see your baby. You had been thinking about him endlessly in London and you missed holding him close to your chest. So you put on your coat and took your keys to drive to your parents’ house but you were stopped by a text message before you could open the door of your car.

“Enjoyed your bachelorette party?” An unknown number wrote.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Who the hell is this?” your thumb typed and pressed the send button.

“You know me. Better than anyone, just like I know you too better than your fiance.”

Your heartbeat quickened. “Stop texting or I will call the police.”

But before you could hit the send button, a picture of your face popped on the screen. But what disarrayed your mind wasn’t your face, it was the body. You were stark naked with your knees on a mattress and your ears teared up, and your lips were wrapped around a shaft.

What. The. Fuck?

“Got plenty more.” the unknown number threatened.

Another picture of you lying on the same bed, except this time you were on your back so your tits were clear cut visible and your mouth was parted slightly like you were moaning. A hand was wrapped around your throat and yours were pinned above your head by another one.

You were frozen in place and the warm autumn air descended into zero degree celsius. Your breath hitched and tears started brimming in your eyes. Who could have these pictures of you?

“I’ve got many more if you’re curious just how much of a slut you can be.”

“Stop. What do you want?” your fingers trembled.

“Meet me at the New York State Pavillon tonight, at 11 PM. Alone. Bring your baby. If you dare to report this to the cops, I will send these pictures to your fiance and post them on every existing site on the internet.”

The words didn’t leave any room for argument or further questions. So you drove to your parents’ house to pick up Nathan for the last time ever.

Adrian was working late tonight. He told you over the phone that a big project was in the work and so he and his team had to stay a little longer in the office to get it done as soon as possible. You were a bit relieved because that means, you could save yourself from whatever was bound to happen when you arrive at the abandoned historical world fair.

“Don’t forget to drink water. I love you.” You reminded him.

You wrapped Nathan in a blanket to keep him warm and you placed him in the infant car seat next to you. Your mind couldn’t stop flashing back to those pictures. Who could you possibly have done so wrong that they thought exaction would be the most fitting comeuppance. It took about 35 minutes via Grand Central Parkway which was the fastest route so you took it. Your mind also couldn’t stop asking questions, so many questions… But most importantly, who could this person be? Could it be… No, no way. You knew him. That was the last thing he’d ever do. Not because he wasn’t a nefarious person but because the world was constantly throwing themselves at him, offering him dollars and women.

He had too much in his plate to look over to yours and wanted to steal what was in it too. After months of not a single contact made, he must’ve had forgotten about you right? C’mon. This is ridiculous. But if it’s not him, then who could it be?

You arrived at Flushing Meadows a half-hour later and then you texted the number. “I’m here. What do you want?” you kept Nathan inside, fearing that whoever the culprit is might hurt him. So you stayed inside as consternation overcame you.

A few minutes later he answered, “step out the car and bring the baby.”

“Don't hurt my baby, please. Take me, but let him return safely to his father.”

“He will. Now, do as I say or I will publish these pictures.”

You trembled. You unlocked the door of your car and stepped out of it deliberately holding Nathan to your chest. You were careful to keep him from crying. The crisp air sent shivers down your spine. You closed the door and waited. Your eyes roved to all over the desolated site. Until it landed on those familiar blue eyes that held more ice than the air.

“…Steve?”

The man you used to know was different now. His face that used to be clean-shaven was now covered in a glorious beard that made him indistinguishable. His dusty blonde hair was slightly longer and he dressed in dark clothes that amplified the sinister atmosphere circling him.

You held Nathan closer to you with one hand behind his head, trying to keep him quiet. “Don’t be like that, let me see my son.”

“No. He’s not yours.” You spat.

He scoffed. “Say whatever you want, sweetheart but it’s my blood running in his little veins. In fact, I think we can take a DNA test and send it to your fiance, how about that? Also, how is Mr and Mrs. Y/L/N?”

“Leave my parents alone, Steve.”

“Are you going to cut that attitude of yours or do we have to do this the hard way? Either way, I don’t mind.”

“I’ll be good. Just please, don’t involve my parents.”

“Good, I know the good girl I knew is still somewhere inside you. Now, drop your phone to the ground and smash it.”

“…What? No! How am I going to-”

He furrowed one eyebrow at you and you instantly understood the peril if you repudiated him once more.

You took out your phone from the pocket of your coat and dropped it to the ground. You stomped it with your foot until the screen was cracked, but Steve wasn’t satisfied enough with its damaged state so he stomped it harder than you did until it was smashed into two.

He led you to his Range Rover that he parked in an empty street and opened the backseat door and you slide into it with Nathan still tucked under your neck. Then he closed the door and walked to the driver’s seat and drove away to God knows where.

“Where are we going, Steve? Nathan needs to sleep. He can’t-”

“Quiet. He’ll be home soon.”

You didn’t dare to ask more questions. The vacancy in his eyes that were reflected on the rearview mirror was petrifying enough as it is. You sat and stared out the window and think about Adrian. Was he home yet? Did he try to call or text you? What would he do when he realizes you weren’t home? You couldn’t help but think that this morning was possibly the last time you’d ever see Adrian. God, you missed him already. You prayed to whatever God was listening that he would save you and your son soon.

Please Adrian, please do something. I love you.

The soft hum of the engine made your eyes feel droopy. You tried your best to stay awake but it was nearing midnight and the jet lag was still encompassing you so the fight in you to stay awake resolved. You gave in to the lethargy with Nathan dozing on your lap.

You were woken up by a shake on your shoulder and you found Steve standing on the open door. “Get up, we’re here.”

In your still languorous state, you got out of the car hugging Nathan close. “Where are?”

The sounds of crickets saturated the ambience as only the faint glow of the moon illuminated the trees around you. There was nobody around except you and Steve -and Nathan if a three months creature counts-. You put two and two together… Did Steve take you into the woods?

“Steve, what are we doing here?”

He didn’t meet your eye or answered you but instead, he walked toward what looked like a mid-century modern wooded oasis perched on a sloping site and set on stilts. The trees blended with the wood side exterior and wraparound decks. You had no idea whose house this belonged to but it was enchanting.

“Go ahead.”

You approached the resident that was incandescent with yellow lights, giving you a little peek to the furniture inside. You hoped whoever owned this property wasn’t sleeping yet, it was literally in the middle of the night, what the hell was Steve even doing taking you to a stranger’s house?

“Steve, I really don’t think this is a good idea…” as you stood freezing on the terrace. “Can we go back now? I really don’t want Adrian to worry.”

He fumbled with a key and unlocked the entrance. “Get in.”

Your eyes scanned the room to make sure there was no one around that might bust your ass tot he police for breaching before you stepped in. Your eyes peregrinated to every corner of the interior, relishing in the smell of oak and firewood.

He then took you for a quick tour to every section of the house without saying anything that would actually straighten your befuddlement. The decorations were full of vintage and antiques. “You like it?” Steve asked.

“I mean… it’s lovely for sure.”

“Good, then that means we won’t have to redecorate.”

“Wait, wait… What?”

“I bought this house for us, sweetheart. I knew you’d love the cozy design and it’s a perfect place for Nathan to grow up in.”

“Steve, what the hell are you talking about?”

“We’ll work things out. I’ll stay here with you for the rest of the weekend and I’ll only leave when I need to work. You won’t have to worry about anything else, I’ll take care of it.”

“God, you are crazier than I thought. I’m going home.”

He stopped you by blocking the entrance door and glared. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

“Steve, get out of my way.”

“You are mine. That baby is my son, you hear me? This is where you belong.”

“I’m gonna call the cops.”

“With what? Your phone?” He derided. “You don’t even know where the hell we are.”

“Adrian’s gonna come looking for me.”

“No, he won’t. Because I’ve sent those pictures of you to him and to your boss, who is it? Tony Stark? And you don’t have any life to get back to. This is your life now.”

Your heart sunk. No, no, he can’t be. He promised he won’t if you did what he said, right?

“You’re lying…”

“I did. I sent it while you were snoozing in the car. Shit, I’d pay a million bucks to see the look on that asshole’s face when he realized just how much of a dirty slut his fiancee is… Well, ex-fiancee now.”

“Why would you- you promised you wouldn’t if I did what you asked me to.”

“Well, that agreement has changed,” he said it so nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just pulverized the life you had built for yourself, the happiness you had stacked on a shelf that took you years to collect; a great job, a loving boyfriend, an adorable baby.

You wanted to lash out, you wanted to smack him in the face but you were too wounded by what you just heard. If you returned to Adrian and your work tomorrow, would you still even have them? Would they even accept you at all? You knew better than trying to report a powerful man such as Steve Rogers to the cops, he could bribe them, he could get a qualified lawyer. He could also make you lose the battle you never wanted to be a part of even if you were the victim, he could easily paint you as the mentally unstable woman that wanted to blackmail him for money.

The media had never captured pictures of you sneaking out of Steve’s apartment. Steve never took you for a stroll in the park or Sunday brunch because that’s all you were; a secret. Steve never wanted to be seen with you and Steve never wanted to share you with the world for whatever reason. Steve didn’t mind being photographed by models and other film stars, but not you. And now, he wanted to keep you in this little vault or calaboose so that you’d never escape and the traces of your history would be erased forever from the world’s memory.

Because Steve Rogers was no longer the man you used to ride around the bicycle with during the summer or the scrawny romancer you used to know, but he was a selfish man, a man with enough ego and ego to completely metamorphosed himself into whatever he wanted to be, no matter how ruthless and perilous that person he is. And now here you were, a mere object for him to assert his powers on, and you knew it wasn’t because of his love for his son or for you, but simply because he always got his way. Always.

“Now you can stay here, accept your new life with me and raise Nathan together, or you can face the disgrace that your fiance and your boss see you as. You think he’s gonna let you come back to his house? You think your boss is gonna shrug it off and let you come back as if nothing happened? No. You’re dispensable, and one way or another, you’re gonna come back to me. Even if you don’t, I’ll find a way to make you.”

“Why me? You could have every other woman in the world… Why me, Steve?”

“Because you think that you can repudiate me… You can’t. You think you can take away control from me… You can’t,” he gritted. “Not a single person in the world can.”

The tears in your eyes fell the floor as your legs wobbled. “Now, let’s not keep our son awake any longer yeah? Put him to bed. And then… You can be the good housewife you were meant to be and perform your duties.”

So he led you to the nursery room and you put Nathan in the crib. You wanted to fight, you wanted to reach that door and run… Even if you don’t know where you were going, as long as you could escape from this maniac. But you knew better than running away to in the middle of nowhere at midnight, in the cold with your son. You also knew better than thinking that Steve wouldn’t do whatever he could to get you back under his feet… so what was the point in countering anymore? Men like Steve Rogers always wins.

After you put Nathan to sleep, he led you to the master bedroom and ordered you to strip. The routine revokes old memory. “Get on your knees,” he commanded as he sat on the edge of the bed, like a king waiting to be served.

You did as he says and stood between his spread legs. “Take off my pants.”

You unzipped it and pulled it down along with his briefs. “Good girl, now, open.”

You parted your lips, wide enough to fit him and circled your tongue around the tip. Just like you used to because he liked the buildup and you knew it better than anyone. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged on it harshly then inched himself back deeper into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his girth as he hit the back of your throat each time he went back in.

“Ah fuck, I’ve missed that sweet mouth of yours…” He picked up the pace and you looked up to him. His face contorted in pleasure while you were feeling anything but. You feel repulsed, you wanted to push him away but you couldn’t. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of your mouth around him and threw his head back.

He moaned as he controlled your movement faster, trying to get himself off. Your eyes teared up as you looked up at him, and his cock throbbed. He climaxed deep inside your mouth as he kept your head down so every drop that he had was spilled down your throat. He kept you there until he had no more to offer and then he pulled himself out. “Get on the bed, ass up, face down.”

You followed his command and waited until you could feel him kneeling behind you. “Just like old times, huh?” He chuckled. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging your clit and then he invaded your body through your entrance. “Shit, you’re still so fucking tight. Did that asshole ever fuck you at all?”

You didn’t answer but moaned instead as you could feel him stretching you like he used to. And no matter how many times he had fucked you, you never truly got used to it. Adrian’s face came in flashes; you recalled how he made love to you, how gentle he would be with you and how intimate your lovemaking session was, a stark contrast to how Steve would treat you. You also compared their sizes, Adrian was average compared to Steve. Whenever Steve entered you, it always felt like an intrusion, an unforeseen attack, rather than your fleshes weaving into one.

He retracted himself and then pushed back in brutally and you whined. He held onto your hips in a bruising grip, as he pounded into you because he was never one for a tender start; he only had wanted to get himself off and that was it. “Does he fuck you this good? Bet you think of my dick when he fucks you.”

Your body jolted every time he jerked himself forward and he groaned and grunted. He hammered into you relentlessly and incessantly, causing you to clench around him. The wetness made squelching noises as you could feel your impending orgasm approaching, forming a dam inside you that was ready to break any second now. He sped up and he screamed in pleasure as the coil inside you broke, you reached your peak at the same time and he buried himself deep inside you, spilling every drop that he had deep in your womb.

“Bet that British asshole doesn’t even make you cum, huh? And I know you always fake it to get him off you.” He sneered as he detached himself from you and got off the bed to clean himself off to the bathroom.

You laid there in the same position, feeling voidness creeping up your heart like you once were; unwanted and alone. Steve had stripped you of your pride, dignity and honour once and even after you managed to climb out of that pit, he found a way to drag you back down once more and locked you under.

And there was nothing else that you could do except accepting your fate as his perpetual prisoner, living under the corruption and unforgiving authority of Steve Rogers. You could only hope that once Nathan is grown enough, you could somehow sneak him out of this confinement to live a much better life and eschew himself from turning into the monster that his father is.

#steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers series #steve rogers smut #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers au #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers series #dark!steve rogers x reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans series #chris evans smut #chris evans angst

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fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan · 4 years

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My Treasure - William Nylander

Request: Can you do one where you are pregnant with William nylanders baby and getting hate and he makes you feel better

Getting pregnant at 24 was definitely not a part of my 5 year post college plan. Then again falling in love wasn't one of my bullet points either. But when my period was over a week late I knew that everything was about to change. William was thrilled when he saw the bolded word on the pregnancy test, immediately wanting to tell anyone he could. I was a little more hesitant to share the news.

I knew that I wanted children someday and those feelings intensified once my relationship with William became serious, I just figured we would be married and I would be a little more secure in my teaching job before we would add a baby to the mix. We told our families first and they were all excited and happy for us, same with friends and teammates. The real problem came when we started to share the news with the rest of the world. On William's social media everyone was happy for us and wishing us well, but mine is where all of the hate went.

She probably got knocked up so he couldn't leave her.

Hopefully you don't gain too much baby weight, you could already stand to lose a little.

You're not even pregnant with his kid I bet, just went to the guy with the biggest paycheck.

I did my best to delete the comments as soon as I saw them, hiding them from William so he wouldn’t get upset. Some people didn't get the hint after the first deleted comment and I would end up blocking them. Two weeks after announcing our pregnancy the nasty comments were outweighing the nice ones of my post. My pregnancy hormones went crazy one day when my pants didn't fit for the first time of the pregnancy and William was away on a road trip until the morning.

I canceled my plans to go get dinner with some friends and instead had a pity party in some of William's clothes with ice cream and reading through all the horrible things that were being said about me.

I can't believe he is still with her, she is not pretty enough for him.

Fat cow

You are going to ruin his career with the child.

I cried myself to sleep on the couch after midnight and didn't wake up until someone was brushing some hair out of my face. Slowly opening my eyes I saw a concerned William kneeling on the floor in front of me. "Ellie, what’s wrong? Were you crying?" I sat up, making room for William next to me before he pulled me into his lap. "Your friends texted me last night and told me you skipped on going to dinner with them. Is everything okay? Is the baby okay?"

"The baby is fine, I just couldn't find anything that fit comfortably with the bump. I had a pity party with ice cream and must have fallen asleep." Everything I said was true, I just left out one major thing.

"I'm sorry babe, but can I finally buy you some new maternity clothes? Please." He gave me puppy dog eyes as he begged, causing me to laugh and turn to face him more.

"You love shopping more than I do."

"Is that a yes? I'm taking that as a yes. Go get ready, shopping might take all day." With that he was carrying me down the hall, laughing the entire way. When he finally set me down I managed to find a t-shirt dress that wasn't too uncomfortable and proceeded to get ready.

***

After a full day of shopping William took me out to dinner at our favorite Spanish restaurant. I excused myself after we ordered a bunch of small plates to share to run to the bathroom and when I got back William was standing at the table with a large plastic bag and shaking hands with the owner. "What's going on?"

"I thought you might be more comfortable if we went home and ate. I've kept you busy most of the day so I know your feet must be bothering you." His tone was off but I brushed it off as we headed out. The drive home was a tense silence without even the radio playing.

I didn't say anything until we were in the apartment and William started slamming cabinet doors as he got plates. "What's wrong?"

"I just don't get why people spend so much time trying to make other people down! Like, what does it do for them?" He had a fire in his eyes I had only ever seen on the ice, and I wasn't sure what was causing it.

"I'm going to some more context here. Did something happen at the restaurant?"

"Before we left the last store I took a couple of pictures for our shopping day and posted them to Instagram. I thought it was no big deal, just sharing what I was up to on a day off. And then when you were in the bathroom your phone started buzzing like crazy so I thought someone was trying to call you. But all of your notifications were for Instagram, and I know I shouldn't have opened the app on your phone but I thought maybe it was your girlfriends' group chat and Sophie finally got engaged." I let out a small chuckle at that, we basically were taking bets on when her and her high school sweetheart would finally take the next step.

"I'm guessing that isn't what you saw." I knew what he was going to say next but I was hoping with every fiber of my being that I was wrong.

"No, I saw the worst of humanity in your DMs. I just- how can people be so cruel?" William slumped into the bar stool next to me at the island as I reached for my phone having to see what was sent to me now. "Ellie…" I ignored his worried warning as I opened up the app, going to my DMs.

Fat cow, you only got pregnant so that you could lock in some who is far too good for you. I hope he sees he could do so much better and kicks you out before that baby ruins his career and life!

So you are just using him for his money. I bet the baby isn’t even his, probably a teammate who makes less. Whore!

Bitch, why are you even with Willy? He is a literal hockey god and from what i can tell you are just some stupid high school math teacher. He can do so much better than you.

There were over 50 messages just like those, all sent within the last hour. I didn't even dare look at the comments on my latest post, even though it was a few days old the braver trolls put their nasty messages there for the whole world to see.

"How long has this been happening?" I had hopped off my stool, going to plate up the food we brought home and trying to avoid the conversation I knew we needed to have. "Ellie… Please talk to me. How long?"

"Honestly, since we started posting that we were dating. It's gotten worse since we posted that we are gonna be parents."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because part of me thought that if I just deleted the messages and comments that it wasn't real. That if I was the only one who knew that I could just pretend that it was all in my head. Then there is that stupid voice in my head that likes to play up my insecurities, that made me feel like if you saw what people were sending me that you would believe it. And I know that thinking that is stupid and unrealistic but it can sometimes be the loudest thing in there." William also got off his stool, coming to stand right in front of me. He kissed my forehead before cupping my cheeks and holding eye contact.

"Min skatt, never feel like you have to hide this from me. You are the one I am in love with and want to spend the rest of my life with. You are the only one that can make me smile and laugh when I am in a bad mood after a game. You are the only one I see myself growing old, and possibly bald with." I let out a gasp at the word bald, he was so protective about his hair.

"See, the rational part of me knows all that."

"Well, let me make it clear to every part of you. I love you with every fiber of my being and as soon as I meet with your father next week to ask for his blessing, I will be asking you to marry me."

"Will…"

"But I am going to need you to act surprised when I ask." That got a small chuckle out of me.

"I'll do my best." William's stomach growled then, making both laugh. "Let's eat before your stomach starts communicating with us again." William just nods, a thoughtful look on his face that I'm sure would cause problems later but right now I just wanted to live in the happy moment.

After reheating the food and settling at the kitchen island to eat, I went through and deleted all the DMs and comments. I barely registered what they said as I deleted. What I didn't know was Will was looking at the comments as I deleted before pulling out his own phone. It was only when my phone buzzed with another notification that I found out what he was doing.

@williamnylander tagged you in a post

The post was two pictures side by side; the first was from our first date at a Christmas market, all bundled up and snuggled into each other as we took the photo in a mirror. The other picture was a selfie he took of us at my last doctor's appointment for the pregnancy, both of us were all smiles as I sat on the exam table with a picture of the sonogram on the screen behind us.

Two pictures of the love of my life. One from our first date, where I was a clutz and spilt hot chocolate all over her light grey coat and she still agreed to a second date. The other from a few weeks ago when we got another look at our baby.

I can say without any doubt that having Ellie in my life has only made it better. She has become my sounding board for when I'm frustrated, my motivation to score more goals, and my ray of sunshine on any cloudy day.

I knew from that first date that Ellie was the one for me, no one can tell me otherwise. And now she is carrying our first child. My heart continues to grow and fall in love with this amazing, kind, dedicated, caring, loving, and perfect woman each day.

I am so lucky to spend time with you each day and anyone who says otherwise is wrong and jealous of what we have.

Min skat, I am so excited to watch our family grow and experience the joys and challenges of parenthood with you. Ellie I love you and can't wait to see where we go next.

Together.

The tears started flowing before I even read the caption, the pictures enough with my pregnancy hormones. But the words William managed to write push me over the edge, I was crying at the love he put into the words but also laughing at the not so subtle 'fuck you' to all the nasty people who sent you messages.

"Did I overstep? I don’t want to embarrass you."

"It's perfect. You're perfect. I love you."

"I love you too, and I plan on showing you that everyday. Even if it is something as simple as an Instagram post."

"It's not just the post, it's that you are saying to all the people who see your pictures and then come trash talk to me that you know about them. And that will probably stop some of them from doing it again. And anyone who doesn't get the message gets blocked."

"Good. Now, let go watch some TV and cuddle." Nodding grabbing my plate of food, following William to the couch before curling into his side.

As William pulled up the next episode of a show we were binging, I thought of something. "You never have told me what 'min skat' means."

"It means 'my treasure'. And it reminds me how lucky I am every day to have you in my life."

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assembledherethevolunteers · 4 years

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Request 3

A/N: Well hi, everybody! I got this request just about a month ago from the amazing @phantoms-lynn! She said her birthday was coming up and I’m not sure if this is late or not, but I hope you had/have a great birthday and thank you for the request! I hope you all enjoy some birthdays!

Pairing: Freddie Mercury x Jim Hutton w/ daughter!reader

Summary: Some snapshots of your birthdays with your Papa (Freddie) and Dad (Jim)

Warnings: None really, fluff, suggested underage drinking

Taglist: @queenlover05 @theblossomknows (if you’d like to be added let me know!)

You opened your eyes, slowly, giving yourself time to wake up. Even though you hadn’t been sleeping that much. You were too excited. You were more excited for this day than Christmas.

Because this day was just about you. And maybe that was selfish, and you knew that was wrong, but it was one of the few days that Papa took the whole day off and Daddy made your favorite foods for all three meals.

You saw that the sun was starting to come up but you know that you should wait until one of your fathers came and got you.

You laid in bed for a while until you couldn’t wait anymore (which in all honesty was maybe fifteen minutes). You got up and tried to sneak into your fathers’ rooms as quietly as possible. You saw both of them, still asleep. You walked over to their bed and stood there for a moment before your Dad woke up.

“Y/N, what are you doing in here?”

“I got excited and couldn’t sleep,” you whispered to him.

He smiled at you and then sat up. “Well, I think it’s still a bit early for breakfast, so why don’t you come snuggle with me and Papa?”

You smiled and climbed into bed and actually fell back asleep for a little while. Until…

“Jim, dear, it seems we have a rather large bed bug.”

“We do, but it was cute, so I decided we should keep it.”

You giggled as your fathers turned over and started to cuddle with you, even though they talked over your head.

“Well, I supposed I agree with you. She is very cute,” your papa pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I also think this might be a very special day for her, so I don’t think we should kick her out of bed. What do you think?”

“We don’t want to be rude hosts.”

You felt your dad kiss the very top of your head.

“How old are you now, little bed bug?” Your papa asked.

“Eight!”

“Eight? That can’t be right. I’m not old enough to have an eight-year-old bed bug.”

You wanted to keep the game up, but your stomach gave a growl.

“Daddy, can we have pancakes?”

Your dad told you that you could and the three of you got out of bed and down to the kitchen.

“Alright, Lovie, why don’t you help Dad and I’ll supervise,” your papa gave you a wide smile.

You liked his smile. You don’t know why he didn’t.

“Freddie, you wouldn’t know how to supervise a kitchen if your life depended on it.”

You laughed at your papa when he stuck his tongue out at your dad’s back when he grabbed the eggs from the refrigerator.

The three (okay, really two) of you got to work on the pancakes. You always loved cooking in the kitchen with your dad, and sometimes, like today, your papa would make up little songs as you did so.

“’And she mixed and she mixed in her little bowl. Making sure there was enough to make them full.’ You know, Romeo, I think I’m on to something,” your papa hummed to the cat.

You and your dad made breakfast, complete with pancakes, and then the three of you ate it together.

“So, what do you want to do for your birthday?”

“Can we go to the park? And then maybe we can get some ice cream!” You started bouncing up and down in your seat. There was a stand not far from the park that had the best ice cream.

“Well, that seems reasonable. But first,” your papa looked at your dad. “Jim, don’t you think we should do presents?”

The rest of the day was spent with your fathers. They took you to the park and even stopped for ice cream. The sun was starting to set when you were on your way home. You were pulling into the driveway at home, eating your ice cream, when you noticed that there were a lot of cars in the driveway.

“Why are all these cars here?”

You noticed your fathers smile at each other, but neither of them answered you. You were about to ask again when you saw balloons tied to the front of your door.

“Daddy? Papa?”

“Come on, Lovie, let’s get you inside.”

The three of you made your way to the front door. Your papa opened the front door and a shout of “SURPRISE!” made you jump.

Standing in the front room were your uncles, aunts, and grandparents. You gasped and ran right to your grandparents.

“Grandma! Grandpa! I’ve missed you!”

“Oh, we’ve missed you too, my darling,” your Grandma mumbled into your hair before pressing kisses all over the top of your head.

“Auntie Kash!”

Your aunt scooped you up in her arms and squeezed you tight.

“Happy birthday, you gorgeous girl.”

“Thank you!”

She let you down and you then ran to your uncles (that weren’t ACTUALLY your uncles, but you called them that anyway).

“Well hello there!” Your Uncle John picked you up and hugged you tight before spinning around with you, making you laugh. “Happy birthday, beautiful,” He gave you a kiss on the side of your head.

“Thank you, Uncle John,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

You gave similar greetings to your Uncle Brian and Uncle Roger before one of your cousins came up and the two of you ran off to play.

You got all kinds of presents, including a guitar from your Uncle Brian that was a smaller version of his Red Special. Your grandmother had baked your favorite cake. Your papa and uncles sang your favorite song of theirs.

That night, you started to drift off in your Uncle Roger’s lap. You heard your dad ask if you were ready to go to sleep. You shook your head, but the next thing you remembered, you were being tucked in.

“But Daaaaaddy,” you muttered at him halfheartedly.

“Sh, Princess, you need your rest.”

You hummed in protest, but were now too tired to actually argue. You felt your dad kiss you one more time before you finally succumbed to sleep.

It was one of your favorite birthdays so far.

Nine Years Later

“HAAAAAAPPY BIIIIIIIRTHDAY, DEAR Y/N!”

Your eyes cracked open to see your dad and papa holding a cupcake with a candle. You smiled, but still brought the blanket up to cover your head.

“Daaaaaad, Paaaaaaapa, it’s too early,” you whined at them.

“’Too early’? It’s nearly noon!” Your papa’s voice was nearly offended, as if sleeping so late was the worst thing you could’ve done. “And you call me dramatic.”

“You’re both dramatic,” your dad’s voice responded. You could hear the smile and the shake of his head.

“Blame my up bringing,” you said, still under the blanket.

“Oh gladly,” your dad replied. Your papa squeaked, but your dad kept talking. “But, you really do need to get up because your grandparents will be here for lunch in about an hour.”

You hummed, letting him know that you’d heard him.

“And if you don’t get up for that, we won’t have your party tonight, so those are your options,” your dad proclaimed nonchalantly before you heard him leave.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have your party,” you heard your papa whisper. “But you really do need to get up otherwise your dad will come back in here and yell. And you know he gets scary when he yells.”

You laughed to yourself because you’re pretty sure the last time you heard your dad yell it had been because one of the cats got out the front door.

You finally sat up and pulled the blanket away from your head, your papa still standing near your bed with the candle.

“Make a wish, Lovie.”

Later that night, you were getting ready for your party in your attached bathroom.

It was going to just be you and your friends. Your fathers were going to go out and not be home until one, which you were a little surprised about. They’d let you have parties before, sure, but they usually only gave you a couple hours.

You were especially excited because there was a guy from your French class, Tyler, that was invited. The two of you had been paired up for a little skit you had to preform for the class and since then the two of you had flirted every chance you got. You hoped tonight would be the push the two of you needed to take it a step further.

There was a knock at your bedroom door.

“Yes?” You called out.

“Y/N?”

You poked your head out and smiled at your fathers. They were dressed to go out, probably waiting on a car that was going to take them into the city.

“Well don’t you two look handsome?”

“Don’t we always?” Your papa spun around, giving you a grand bow when he faced you again.

“Of course you do.”

“Y/N, we’re about to get going so, do we need to go over the rules again?”

You were going to shake your head until you saw the look in your dad’s eye, meaning it wasn’t a suggestion.

“No drinking, nobody is to spend the night unless you’ve already approved of them, no drinking, no touching the good records, and…what’s the last one?” You joked.

“No. Drinking.”

So, Dad clearly wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“Jim, dear, I think she gets it,” your papa sent you a wink. “Besides, I’m fairly sure that Phoebe and I finished all the alcohol in the house ages ago.”

Your dad humphed, but didn’t look at your papa, just you.

“Y/N, I’m serious. We can’t let underage people drink here.”

You nodded, knowing how serious it could be if it got out that minors were being given alcohol at Freddie Mercury’s house, whether he was home or not.

“I know, Dad.”

Your dad and papa exchanged looks before they pulled pulled you into a hug.

“We know you do, Princess,” your dad kissed the top of your head. “Just make sure your friends do too.”

“Y/N,” your best friend hissed at you.

You were in the kitchen, refilling one of the bowls of food about two hours after your fathers had left and the party was in full swing. One of your friends was in charge of the music and had been doing a great job. You were pretty sure that everybody was having a good time.

“Hm?” You didn’t look at her, making sure you didn’t over fill the bowl.

“Tyler is looking for you!” She grabbed your arm and shook it, trying to make you realize what she was really saying.

It almost made you drop the bag.

“R…really? He’s looking for me?”

She nodded, her eyes widened to emphasize her point.

You put the bag down and straightened your outfit.

“How do I look?”

Your friend looked you over and then dug into her pocket, producing a tube of lip gloss.

You took it and swiped it on, popping your lips before looking at your friend again. “Good?”

She nodded before leading you back to the living room where the makeshift dance floor was. She pulled you until you were almost next to Tyler, but didn’t want to interrupt him since he looked in the middle of a conversation. Until he turned around.

“Hey! There’s the birthday girl,” Tyler smiled at you.

It made your heart melt.

“Hi, Tyler.”

“This is a great party,” he glanced around, before his eyes landed on you again. “Just wish I had some more time with…”

There was a sudden shift in the music. The songs most of the night had been fast and upbeat, keeping the party atmosphere. This song, however, was slow.

You and Tyler stared at each other for the opening bars.

“Y/N, would you like to dance?”

Inside, you were squealing. It made the butterflies in your stomach flip and twitch. All you could do is nod.

Tyler took you by the hand and got you closer to the small “dance floor”. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck. He pulled you closer and flashed another smile. You returned it.

“You know, I’ve uh…I’ve been meaning to tell you this,” Tyler cleared his throat, as if he was nervous.

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“I uh…I just…I really like you, and I’d like to think that you like me too and that maybe we could try to maybe make it work or at least try and…fuck. Why is it suddenly so hard to talk to you?”

You giggled, but bit your lip so that Tyler didn’t think you were laughing at him. You just thought it was cute that he was this nervous. To just talk to YOU.

“Tyler?” You offered him a way out.

“...yeah?” He responded, still looking like he was waiting for a rejection.

“I’d really like to try.”

Tyler’s face lit up and you were couldn’t help but beam back.

“So, I got you a present, but you’ve got to close your eyes.”

You squinted, jokingly suspiciously, before you closed your eyes totally.

And then you felt Tyler’s lips on yours. It was a bit clumsy and awkward, but overall, not bad. You could feel your heart beat accelerate.

“Woo! Get it, Y/N!”

You’d forgotten you were in the middle of your living room with all your friends around. You quickly pulled away, but kept yourself close enough that you could feel Tyler’s breath on your cheek.

“Best birthday ever,” you whispered to him.

Three Years Later

You played with the hem of your shirt as you leaned against your wall, listening to your papa talk on the phone.

“...and your Uncle John finally snapped and killed your Uncle Brian.”

“Well, we knew it was only a matter of time.”

“Ah, so you are listening.”

“I am, Papa, I’m just tired,” you told him.

You weren’t lying. You had been going to school full time and working part time at a local coffee shop. You wanted to make your own money, regardless of the offers from your papa.

“Oh, Lovie. You’re working too hard. I think you need some time to relax.”

“I know, I do. Maybe soon I can come home and visit you and Dad.”

“We would love that, sweetheart. Whenever you can. We miss you. And so do your uncles and aunts.”

You smiled, knowing he was serious. You’d talked to your Uncle Brian just the day before about an Astronomy assignment that had turned into a nearly two hour conversation just to catch up. You had barely been home this year, trying to keep up on your studies.

“I know, Papa. My birthday is coming up, so maybe I can come home for that.”

“Please do. Now, tell me about this boy in your Major American Authors class.”

“Paaaapa,” you groaned. Hundreds of miles away and he could still make you blush about boys.

You then tried really hard to get time off for your birthday, but it just wasn’t possible. You couldn’t get anybody to take your shifts and you didn’t want to lose your job. You called your fathers so that you could tell them you wouldn’t make it home for your birthday, but you hoped that you’d be home in the coming weeks some time. Your parents were devastated, of course, but they understood.

You were lying in bed, not ready to get up just yet. Hey, it was your birthday. You should get to spend the whole day in bed. You stayed in bed as long as you could, but you soon had to get up.

You went to the bathroom before you heard your phone ringing in the other room. You quickly ran to grab it.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Mr. Walker.”

“Look, we won’t you need you in today. Don’t worry about your shift,” your boss told you.

You were dumbfounded. Had you done something? Did you not have a job anymore?

“Um…why’s that, Mr. Walker?”

“We got you covered is all, we’ll see you on Friday.”

Well, that meant that you still had a job, which was good.

“Okay, thank you, Mr. Walker.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Happy birthday,” Mr. Walker ended the conversation with the hang up of the phone.

You pulled the phone away and stared at it, confused. Had you told him that your birthday was coming up? Maybe somebody that you had asked to cover told him and he’d taken pity on you.

You hung the phone up, deciding not to worry about it. You went back to bed for a little bit before you decided to get ready for the day.

Basically, you took a shower and threw on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were relaxing with some music, trying to decide if you should get up and do some cleaning or studying when you heard a knock.

Your head whipped up because you weren’t really sure what who it could be. Maybe one of your friends from class had decided to show up and surprise you.

You stood up and opened the door, forgetting to check the peep hole.

You opened it to reveal...your fathers.

“Dad! Papa!” You threw yourself into their arms. You couldn’t help the tears that came to your eyes.

“Oof! Well, it’s good to see you too, darling,” your papa laughed and pressed a kiss to your head.

Your dad wrapped his arms around both of you.

“What are you two doing here?” You pulled away and looked them, wiping your eyes quickly.

“We had to see you on your birthday, Princess. And maybe we could go out to eat and you could show us around town a bit more.”

You beamed. “I’ll get changed.”

The rest of the day, you spent showing your dads around Glasgow. Yes, your parents had been there before and you’d shown them around a couple of times, but now you were more settled and you had your favorite spots. You even took them to the coffee shop you where you were working so you could introduce them to some of your coworkers.

You laughed and heard some stories that you hadn’t heard yet. Some were about your fathers, some were about your papa and your uncles, especially in the early days of the band.

After getting some lunch and ice cream, you all returned to your apartment. You decided to watch a movie and snuggled in with your dads, just like when you had been a kid.

You started to fall asleep with your head on your dad’s shoulder.

“I think you should get some sleep.”

“But Daaaaady…”

“Sh, Princess, you need your rest.”

You hummed, not quite arguing with him.

After some additional coaxing, your papa lead you to your room. He tucked you just like he used to when you were little.

“Good night, Lovie. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Papa.”

“We love you so so much.”

You grinned, even in your half asleep state. “Love you and Dad too.”

All in all, it was one of your favorite birthdays.

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