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trash-for-seabass · 3 years

Text

The knots in your brain

Pairing: Stucky (mostly bucky) x MassageTherapist!Reader.

Warnings: none this chapter but eventually there will be some

Authors note: I got a new job as the front desk person at a massage parlor (🥳) and tbh I Fucking HAD to write this. also please forgive me I know this chapter is dog shit.

•••

Tony Stark

He was a bit of a narcissist but I couldn’t deny he took care of his team well.

The Avengers had the best medical coverage in all of America, hell probably even the world. Everything from therapy, to steam rooms, even Hair Prosthesis were offered for the renowned heroes.

But I definitely got the most work.

When Mr. Stark had first approached me with an offer to become the avengers personal massage therapist I thought ‘hey what the hell’, he was offering me good money and come on who wouldn't want to work with earths mightiest hero's. But with time I had learned this wasn’t just a walk in the park like I had initially assumed. I worked so often I had gotten to know almost every Avenger personally.

Captain America, Steve as he insisted I call him, always asked for a deep tissue massage, mainly focused on his arms and upper back and honestly his hard super soldier muscles hurt my elbows and forearms. Dr.Banner often requested a relaxing full body, but I always paid special attention to his scalp, trying to ease the doctors headaches. The Russian spy, Natasha, preferred I work on her legs and hips, and she liked it rough, her flirty attitude could make a dominatrix blush. My employer, Tony, liked a chest massage (and a “shaft massage” that he requested one time. I almost put my foot up his ass for that). The hawk, Barton, surprisingly wanted me to focus on his shoulders and neck.

I nodded a hello to my receptionist Ben as i walked through the door. He looked as tired, and hungover, as i felt, bags covering his eyes and his normally neat blonde hair tousled. Never again would we attend an Iron man party.

"Alright" I began, easily recognizing the look of shame on his face "Who did you try to go home with?"

His face turned a dark shade of red and he buried it in his hands, knowing I was gonna rip the answer out of him one way or another. ".....Vision"

I choked on my morning peppermint tea "Are you serious Ben?" I yelped, laughing so hard my sides began to ache.

Ben glared at me, "Hey he's sexy and you know it!"

The statement sent me into another round of laughs, making me wheeze as i made my way back to my studio, the relaxing music filling my head and finally calming me down as I wiped a tear away from my eyes. Thursdays were always slow days, but still i had a few clients here and there. I went to work plugging in the warming bowl full of Himalayan salt stones, and turning the temperature up to a nice warm heat on the wet cloths. Retrieving a fresh sheet from the dryer, I prepped my massage table and lit a few of the scented candles, filling the room with an aroma of eucalyptus.

As I stood back to admire my nice little studio I could faintly make the sound of Ben’s voice out through the wall. Well actually it was the sound of Ben’s flirting voice to be exact. I quickly whipped out my phone and checked my schedule, seeing if someone had made a last minute appointment. It was probably Sam Wilson, the falcon, as he much preferred to just walk in instead of making appointments like a normal person. Still i could never stay mad at him, he always insisted on buying me drinks and his flirting made me smile. Quickly scrolling to today’s date I noticed a new set of letters adorning the client line.

JBB

Who the hell was JBB?

The icon flicked from a solid blue to a fluorescent pink letting me know the client had arrived. Bewildered, and a bit curious, my feet led you to the door separating the studio and the lobby faster then I’d like to admit. Swinging the door open, my jaw nearly hit the floor when you saw him.

James Buchanan Barnes.

The winter soldier.

Steve had mentioned him enough that i never imagined I would actually meet him. He was extremely introverted, preferring to be left alone even on missions, and I couldn’t blame him. Everyone knew the story of the winter soldier by now, a brainwashed man forced to fight, and kill, for the organization HYDRA. Steve had mentioned Barn’s PTSD in a past session so I didn’t think I would ever find him in my little studio, tucked away in the avengers compound. Not to mention the elephant in the room.

Or the vibranium arm in this case.

It was hard not to take the super soldier in, the tight black tank and gym shorts he wore didn’t leave much to the imagination, but the gleaming smoky silver metal held your eyes. And when Ben cleared his throat I realized I had been staring.

“Ah! So sorry Mr. Barnes I’m just surprised to see you here. Please this way. Also I’m (y/n) hi!” The words tumbled out as I extended my hand. A quick glance at Ben told me I were acting like an idiot. But Mr. Barnes didn’t look appalled or annoyed, rather he slightly raised an eyebrow and the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly.

He slipped his hand into mine, his large palm and long fingers completely covering the appendage and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. It was hard to suppress the shiver that ran down my spine. After he released my hand I turned and lead him back to my studio, quickly retrieving my patient intake form clipboard from Ben.

“So” I begin, trying to use my professional voice to hide the blush dragging its claws over my heart. “Are there any medical conditions that might prevent you from getting a massage?”

“No”

A man of few words, got it. “Alright” I continued, jotting the few things I had learned about him onto my clip board. “Is there any particular area you want me to focus on? Or are you just here for a relaxing massage?”

In the dim light I can just barley make out the sight of him tucking the tip of his bottom lip between his teeth, and the slight worry that flickers across his gaze. He reaches out with his right hand to squeeze the his left shoulder, right where metal and flesh meet. I reach a tentative hand out and lightly brush my fingertips over his arm, the cold metal causing my fingers to tingle. I flick my eyes up to meet his hazel blue ones, perfectly framed by his long chestnut hair, and give him a gentle smile. That seems to ease him a slight bit, but thankfully its just enough for him to ask. “Relaxing sounds nice. I...I don't know if that would work here though” He gives his shoulder a squeeze “Honestly your the professional, so whatever you think would work”

I smile, knowing Steve had said something to him about me makes me feel,,,,warm? Kinda fuzzy? I nod, moving my hand to ever so lightly rest my palm on the sleek metal. I shouldn't be doing this, this was beyond unprofessional, and yet there was something about James Buchanan Barnes that made me stop caring about the world for a single moment. I hold my hand there for a heartbeat longer before turning around and pulling things out of my cabinet.

I start talking again as I work on fishing out my massage oil, specifically the lavender scented one. “Alright so you'll dress down to your comfort level and lie down on the table, and if at any point you want me to stop for any reason please just-” I turn back around and my jaw nearly hits the floor. Bucky stands before me completely shirtless, every ridge and curve perfectly accented by the cheap plastic candles scattered around my room. I swallow hard, trying to pull my eyes from his abs. I quickly step towards the door, saying some bullshit about having to bring the paperwork to Ben and grab my water bottle.

The second the door closes behind me I audibly wheeze. Ben quickly minimizes the webpage of magic the gathering cards and spins to look at me. I don't even need to say anything, he just gives me a knowing look. I shoot him a glare, warning him not to make a comment, and hand him the sheet to scan into our system. Then I quickly grab my water bottle, chugging the whole thing and running back to refill it before knocking against the wooden door and pushing it open when I hear Bucky give the all clear.

Bucky is sprawled out on his stomach, the white table sheet pulled up just enough to kiss his lower back, while his rippling back muscles are out and on display. I have to take a moment to remind myself that I am a god dammed professional before I close the door and get to work.

The massage is almost completely uneventful, rubbing massage oil over his back and gently working out the knots that live there. When I reach his scalp I’m pleasantly surprised to discover his hair is soft and silky and then it’s time for his Vibranium arm.

I gently take his forearm in my hands and instruct him to move it so it’s hanging off the edge near his face. The area where flesh and metal meet is decorated with scars, one long one stretching to his spine. I reached out and touched the tip, tracing it back to its source. Bucky whimpered slightly, the sound of servos and gear whirring hummed through the room and he balled his metal hand into a fist.

“Are you sure you still want me to do this?” I ask, leaning over the table and lining up my elbow with the scarred flesh.

He only gives me a tiny little “yeah” in response but it’s not even slightly convincing.

So I give him an idea. “I can tell you don’t like to talk much, but I’ve seen people with….” I try to choose my next words carefully “traumatic injuries before and 9/10 times, it’s helped.”

Then Bucky does something that surprises me. He laughs. It’s a very small laugh, more of a chuckle really but it is a laugh, but it’s still a laugh. “What about the one guy?”

“Well that was his traumatic injury so” I say without even thinking about it. I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth but then another chuckle rumbles through his chest.

I can’t help but laugh back, it’s odd the winter soldier has such a contagious laugh. Gently I bring my elbow down and rest it on his back, waiting for him to start talking.

“….does Steve talk about our childhood often?”

“Not really” I say with a shrug. “He talks more about current events”

“Well there was this one time on Halloween where, oh fuck that’s the spot” he purrs when I run my elbow over a particularly tight muscle. Bucky takes a moment then starts up again. “On halloween when we were both 15. We had this neighbor, mrs. Mildred who was a total hag. So Steve and I had made these really crappy masks out of paper and Ah~”

“Shit you ok?” I ask, freezing like a deer in headlights.

“I’m better then ok doll”

Hearing him call me doll sends butterfly’s shooting into my belly. I place the palm of my hand into the scarred tissue and start rolling the muscle underneath which makes Bucky purr a bit more before he continues his story. “Well Steve and I rang her door bell and the minute she opened it I threw a sack of flour in her face and we ran”

He pauses to laugh a bit, the deep rumble in his chest vibrating through my finger tips.

“Now of course back then Steve was a string bean with a host of medical problems, and I turn to see he’s falling behind” I can’t see it but I can hear the smile in his voice. “So I turn around, pick him up and start carrying him bridal style!”

I can’t be sure, and it doesn’t seem possible, but it feels like his laughter is helping losses the knots in his shoulder. With no regard for the words coming out of my mouth I say “So your caring, funny, and can carry someone bridal style. Sounds like your gonna make a girl very happy.”

His laughter ceases and it feels like his body goes cold. The sound of whirring gears draws my attention to his metal arm as he lifts his hand and flexes his fingers. “Yeah well most women arnt looking for a partner that’s damaged goods”

I stop massaging the knot in his shoulder and let my fingertips trace up the line of his arm to the cold metal vibranium palm, and I whisper, so quietly only a super soldier could possibly hear me say it. “I don’t think your damaged.”

He relaxes his arm again and a heartbeat later he’s telling me another story about his childhood with captain America. We go on like that for the next half an hour, all the way until my phone buzzes letting me know our time was up. I leave the room to grab him a glass of water and let him get dressed. He comes back out, rolling his shoulder and grinning from ear to ear, drinking the small cup of water in one gulp. Then he waves me goodbye and heads out the door.

~~~

It had been 4 weeks since I had met Bucky and he had been in to see me at least twice a week. Sometimes he would catch me in the halls of the avengers tower, or he would somehow find me on my morning jog, slowing his pace just to get a chance to talk to me.

Then, in the first week of February, I didn’t see him at all. He hadn’t booked any appointments, hadn’t shown up on my run, nothing. Like he had vanished into thin air. As I walked to my studio that morning I contemplated giving him a call just to check up on him. I paused though when I saw Steve Rogers sitting in my office and talking with Ben, an hour before his appointment was set to start.

The minute he saw me he stood up, clearly nervous about something. He asked if we could talk somewhere private so I nodded, leading him back to my studio.

The minute the door closed I piped up “hey uhh how’s Bucky doing?”

Steve’s eyebrows rise but not in a shocked way, more of curious stare. “That’s actually what I came to talk to you about.”

My body goes into full panic mode. “What happened is he ok?”

Steve gently puts his hands on my shoulders, giving me a gentle squeeze. “Relax doll, it’s nothing to panic about. It’s actually umm”

His hesitation only raises my curiosity more.

“Well you know how I mentioned Bucky has PTSD?”

I nod my head, trying to wrap my brain around what he’s saying.

Steve looks down at the ground, removing his hands from my shoulders and fidgeting with his fingers. “Well you see the thing is….he used to have panic attacks pretty regularly but ever since he started coming to you he hasn’t had a single one”

“Wow” I say, trying to throw on my most convincing smile. “That’s wonderful to hear. I’m glad I can help” I pray the slight disappointment isn’t obvious in my voice. “But then how come I haven’t seen him all week?”

Steve becomes even more fidgety, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but my eyes. “So him and I were talking the other night and we had this crazy idea but we both know you probably wouldn’t be into it and it’s a huge leap after knowing you such a short amount of time and-“

“Steve with all due respect if you keep me in suspense like this a moment longer I’m going to explode. Please just spit it out”

Steve audibly gulps but he locks eyes with mine and the next words out of his mouth nearly make my jaw hit the floor.

“We we’re wondering if you would like to be our roommate?”

•••

Y/n after Steve asks you to be there roommate:

#bucky barnes #Bucky #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Steve Rodgers #captain america #winter soldier #marvel #sebastian stan #Chris evans

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lumosinlove · 4 years

Text

12/18/20: Day Five

On the fifth day of Ficmas, Hazel gave to yA, SOLNTSE. IN. RUSSI-A.

“Lupin! We’re going to Dante’s for drinks, what do you think?”

Remus looked back at Marlene and Dorcas, over the auditorium seats. Dorcas held up two thumbs.

“Last hurrah before Christmas vacay?” she said.

Remus slung his bag over his shoulder and laughed. “Yeah, Dante’s sounds good.”

“You can bring your hot Russian, if you want,” Dorcas pressed a kiss to Marlene’s cheek. “It can be a double date.”

Remus looked at his phone. “He’s in a meeting until later, but let’s go. We have dinner plans, though, I’ll tell him to come pick me up there when he gets off the subway.”

They left the lecture hall with the rest of the class, filing quickly out the door at the promise of no work for a good month and the weather forecasting first snow tonight.

It was a short, ten minute walk along West 4th Street. Remus could practically smell the coming snow, and he smiled, thinking about walking with Sirius in it tonight after dinner. He thought of Sirius leaving their apartment that morning in his thick green coat, and wanted to see him in the snow.

“Our very own aperitivo,” Marlene sighed, looking at the small spread of meats and cheeses in front of them and taking a loving sip of her drink. “Oh, yes, it’s Christmas.”

Remus popped an olive in his mouth. “It feels like it, doesn’t it?”

“It’ll feel more like it when you’re in Russia,” Dorcas said. “Covered in snow, and furs, and caviar and six-foot-something of dark-haired beauty—”

“Yes, okay,” Remus laughed, trying to shush her and agree at the same time. “That’s probably true.”

“Don’t know about the caviar,” said a voice from behind Remus. “But want to see Remus in furs.”

Remus turned just in time to see Sirius’ teasing smile, cheeks flushed from the cold.

“Only furs?” Sirius said. “Just for me?”

Remus rolled his eyes but tilted his chin up so Sirius could kiss him gently.

Marlene laughed. “Hi, Sirius, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Sirius’ grin was bright and he straightened, keeping an arm around Remus. “Long day of meetings but, all over now, yes? Here for celebration dinner.”

“Well, we got him all warmed up for you. Took us fifteen minutes to get him to stop talking about the final.”

“He get to say it all over again for me, then,” Sirius said. “Will make him very happy.”

Remus rose, drawing his bag over his shoulder. “Okay, okay,” he laughed. “We’re going now. Thanks for drinks, Marls, that was really kind of you.”

“Merry Christmas!” Marlene sing-songed. “And happy From-Russia-With-Love trip!”

Remus laughed. “See you guys in the new year.”

“Hi,” Sirius whispered to him as they turned, pushing out the doors and back into the frost.

Remus took Sirius’ hand and brought his gloved knuckles to his lips. “Hi. Как дела?”

Sirius nodded. “Da, today was good. Starving, though.”

“Me, too. Do you know when you’re wanting something, and so waiting just takes ages?”

“Everyday, coming home to you.”

Remus wrapped his hand around Sirius’ arm and leaned up for a quick kiss. “Yes, that.”

“Now I’m take to dinner,” Sirius said. “Then it’s just us. No more waiting.” He glanced up. “Not even for snow.”

Remus saw the first flakes fall onto Sirius’ hat before he felt them himself, nipping at his cheeks.

“No more waiting.”

They sat in a cozy booth, sharing plates and a piece of chocolate cake.

“Sweet,” Sirius said, thumb brushing a smudge of frosting from Remus’ lip. “Remushya always likes sweet.”

Remus just smiled over his glass of wine. “I’m really excited, you know. I’m glad we’re going.”

Sirius nodded, sucking air between his teeth. “Yeah. Hope it…goes good, you know. I really don’t know.”

Remus smoothed a hand over his chest. “I’ll be there if it doesn’t. I’ve been there myself.”

“Yes,” Sirius said, curling his fingers around Remus’. “But not think about yet. First, we have two weeks in dacha. Just us.”

Remus leaned into Sirius’ side, cheek against the soft material of his suit. “Love you.”

“Я люблю тебя,” Sirius said back, lips against Remus’ temple. “Now. Tell me all about final.”

The elevator dinged open, and the New York snow looked even more amazing from their large windows. Plush, and falling slowly.

“At least it’s coming now and no during our flight,” Remus said as Sirius helped him out of his coat.

“Have to get up early,” Sirius sighed and wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist. “Then I’m take you to dacha bed and we sleep in.”

“Sleep?” Remus turned his head. “Is that what we’ll be doing?”

Sirius’ laugh was soft against his neck. “Sleep, sex. Wake up, have tea and I’m make you blini with jam and cream. Then I’m put you in nothing but furs on Christmas morning, Merry Christmas to me.”

Remus turned in his arms. “You could put me in nothing right now.” He wound his fingers through Sirius’ hair. “We really should be tired for such a long flight…make it go faster.”

Sirius bit his lip. “Right. That’s true.”

Remus pulled Sirius down and kissed him gently. “Yeah?”

Sirius grinned, walking backwards slowly. “Come now.”

Remus was exhausted and exhilarated all at once. He was surrounded by unfamiliar signs in an unfamiliar language. But then there was Sirius. He spoke fast, smoothly, got their bags and ordered to-go cups of tea for both of them, sweetened and milky. Sirius was rumpled and adorable in his white beanie and black puff coat. He had a thick scarf around his nose and his tea held in one hand, suitcase in the other.

“Car waiting,” he said in a sleep-scratched voice. “More sleep.”

Remus pulled his own hat lower over his ears. He could feel the cold from beneath the automatic airport doors. He wished it was light out, but the sun was long set.

“Eleven PM, right?” Remus asked, looking at the time settings on his phone.

“Yes,” Sirius said, taking a long sip of his tea. “We take train now. Take one day. Have our own cabin, I set it all up.” Sirius sent him a smile. “It’s one of my favorite things. Sleeper train to country, get away from cities for a bit.”

Remus tugged his suitcase and smiled. “Wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Me too, baby,” Sirius said. “Soon.”

The train station was dim and mostly empty, but they were escorted to one of the rear train cars by a woman in a pristine uniform like they themselves owned the train. She opened the door for them, showing them the different compartments of their car—a kitchenette, a bathroom, two bedrooms, and a sitting area, all complete with crystal light fixtures and broad, clear windows. She left them with a slight bow and the wooden door clicking closed, silencing most of the train’s noise.

He and Sirius grinned at each other for a moment as they set their bags down. The cabin was soft and inviting, the snow outside glinting as it rushed by.

“Look,” Remus said, pointing to blanket on the couch. “Furs.”

Sirius laughed out loud, tossing their coats to the sides and all but tackling Remus onto the couch. Their kisses quickly went from playful to slow, Sirius’ weight rocking against him with the slight movement of the train.

“Miss you,” Sirius whispered, licking into his mouth. “Even for hour car ride.”

Remus pressed his hands under Sirius’ shirt. “Take this off.”

They shed their winter-cool clothes in favor of warm skin on skin.

“Hm,” Sirius said into Remus’ kiss. “Suitcase. I’m get. Pick a bedroom.”

Remus smiled, stretching out on the couch, cock warm and pleasantly turned on against his hip, before swinging himself up and picking the left bedroom. The bed was tightly made with a white quilt. He glanced back at the main room, smiling at their trail of clothes and Sirius’ bare back bent over the suitcase.

Remus untucked the sheets, fluffing the quilt up near the end of the bed before falling against the pillows with a sigh.

“Are you coming?” Remus called, letting his thighs spread.

“I’m come!” Sirius’ voice said, and he appears in the doorway a moment later. He leaned against it, naked and smiling, eyes raking over Remus. “I’m really come, wow.”

Remus laughed as Sirius stroked himself once, twice, and then walked forward to kneel at the end of the bed. Remus watched him look out the window, beautiful and silver in the night and the moon that silhouetted the trees.

“Looks cold out there,” he said. “Warm in here, though.”

Remus held out his arms and Sirius leaned over him, bracketing him in.

“Come here,” Remus laughed, pushing Sirius’ hips down against his with his heels. “We’re in Russia.”

Sirius let out a soft sound as their cocks brushed together. “You’re my home now, Remushya. Russia is special place but…it’s you.”

Remus pressed closer to him, closing his eyes at the feeling of Sirius’ skin on his. They kissed with no hurry, Sirius’ fingers heavy, and then light, and then heavy again, making him pant and push back against his touch. The train seemed to cradle them both, even as Sirius cradled Remus. Sirius’ first press inside Remus was swayed by the rocking of the train, making Remus’ eyes squeeze shut as he clutched to Sirius’ back.

“Remushya,” Sirius’ voice came out strained and breathless, mouth pressed to Remus’ neck. “Yes, yes, baby…”

Remus ran his hands down Sirius’ sides to his ass, feeling the muscles that indented at his hips every time he fucked forward.

“Can we,” Remus curled a hand around the back of Sirius’ neck and scraped his teeth against his jaw. “Harder?”

Remus felt cooped up and stiff from the plane. He wanted—he needed it all out somehow, the nerves about meeting Sirius’ family, the stress and elation of the last semester, his overwhelming love for Sirius that never seemed to yield. He needed it to be explosive, he needed it pressed into his skin.

“I’m do,” Sirius said with a smile. “But have to stay quiet. Can you? Don’t know if you can.”

Remus laughed, biting his lip against the next groan that threatened as Sirius stroked just right inside of him. He nodded. “Please.”

Sirius got his knees under him, his arms under Remus’ back to hold him close. It gave him enough leverage that, the next time he snapped his hips forward, the effect felt doubled. Remus’ head fell back, mouth open.

“Shh,” Sirius said with a soft kiss, and then snapped his hips forward again. He didn’t pick up the pace, but ground in hard each time their hips met.

“Ah,” Remus smothered the sound against Sirius’ neck, breathing harshly. Sirius barely gave him time to catch his breath before he did it again. The soft sheets slipped beneath Remus’ back, but Sirius didn’t let him go.

“So good, Remus,” Sirius panted. “Is good?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Remus chanted breathlessly. His lips dragged along Sirius’ neck, kissing and relishing. “You’re so—ah—“

“Shh,” Sirius’ laugh ended in a soft moan of his own, and Remus pressed a hand over his own mouth, laughing, too.

“No, no, like to see,” Sirius sat back on his heels, chest broad and tanned in the warm light of the cabin. Remus watched his brows knit as he looked down at where his cock dipped in and out of Remus’ body. “Fuck, so much to see.” He smiled at Remus, bending to kiss his chest before sitting back again and pressing into him slowly. “We get home, I’m make you say everything. No one but us.”

Remus watched as Sirius took hold of his hips and fucked forward again, and again, faster than before. Remus whined softly, his cock red and drooling against his stomach now. Heat spread over his chest, from where Sirius was warm inside of him, heavy and aching.

“Sirius,” Remus said, and Sirius fell forward again, Remus’ heels urging him closer. He tangled his fingers into Sirius’ dark hair, kissing him. Remus’ breath caught, his head falling back as his orgasm built, as Sirius’ cock brushed his prostate over again. He felt swollen against his stomach, balls drawn up. “I’m—”

Sirius jerked, a sound ripping out of his mouth as Remus clenched around him, coming between them without a hand.

“Baby,” Sirius groaned. “Baby…” he fucked Remus through it, more slowly now, dragging and careful as Remus’ cock spat out thick ropes of come. A moment later, Remus felt Sirius’ own heat, heard it in the way Sirius’ breathing stopped and the started again, in the way he pressed hard into Remus to ride it out.

Remus still remembered how this part used to feel. The obligation. The preparing his tired body to get up, get dressed, and walk home.

But the memory was faint now. Now, he was being kissed all over his chest and neck, his eyes closed as he laughed tiredly, hand rubbing the back of Sirius’ neck.

“Better every time,” Sirius’ low voice said, kissing along his jaw. “How you do that?”

“Me? You.”

Remus opened his eyes to see Sirius looking down at him. His hair was a mess from the traveling and the sex, he had tired circles under his eyes and chapped lips, and Remus had never seen anything better, anything brighter.

They couldn’t share the tiny cabin shower, but they managed the bed, squeezed in tight and warm.

Remus fell asleep with Sirius’ front pressed all along his back, and the world just beginning to lighten outside, above the moving landscape of Russia.

When Remus woke again a few hours later, it was to Sirius’ voice in the sitting area, speaking soft Russian. Remus waited until he heard the cabin door close, and then slipped his feet into the slippers that were waiting at the foot of the bed, and pulled one of Sirius’ sweatshirts on before opening the bedroom door.

Sirius was removing lids from dishes on a breakfast tray, set out on the table by one of the large windows. The world was a blissful white forest outside, the sun a watery dot in the sky.

“Wow,” Remus said, looking out. “We’re in Narnia.”

“Narnia?” Sirius laughed. “Oh, right. Cupboard movie. Yes, we meet spy goat soon.”

Remus laughed as he sat, tilting his chin up towards Sirius. “Доброе утро.”

Sirius set the tea he had been pouring down and took Remus’ face between his hands.

“Good morning, Remushya,” he whispered, and kissed him softly.

They pulled into a tiny station a few hours later, and, as Sirius drove a rental car through winding snowy streets, they only met a few small towns. The house they pulled up to, however, if not large, was tall and ornate. It was all white, blending in with the snow, and had carved shutters and trimming.

“It’s like a gingerbread house,” Remus said as they got out, pulling his coat closer against the cold. “Baby, it’s beautiful.”

Sirius beamed and wrapped an arm around Remus, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Just us,” he said when they reached the door, and leaned down for a kiss while turning the key in the lock.

The entrance hall was a blast of warm air and Remus opened his mouth to voice his relief when—

“Sivushka?”

The voice made both of them jump.

There was a boy with dark hair and familiar eyes standing there. Regulus, Remus recognized from photos. Sirius’ brother.

“Regulus?” Sirius said, and in Russian, “What are you doing here?”

Regulus had only opened his mouth to respond when there was another voice from down the hall, and Remus was able to translate those words.

“Reg?” it said. “Who is it?”

A blond boy appeared, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He had the palest blue eyes Remus had ever seen.

“My brother,” Regulus said, still in Russian. “And—someone.”

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked again. He didn’t sound demanding, but almost—whiny. Remus watched a smile pull at Regulus’ mouth.

After that, all Remus caught was family and home. He guessed Regulus was saying that he had just as much right to be there as Sirius did.

“Sirius?” Remus said hesitantly.

“English?” Regulus said incredulously, looking at him.

“This is Remus,” Sirius said, and then hissed a curse back. He looked at Remus again. “So sorry, I…Remus, not know they be here.”

“It’s okay,” Remus shook his head. “It’s completely fine. Do they…”

“No, can’t really understand us. Well, Regulus can’t but…don’t know blond man.” Sirius turned, asking. “Dima.”

“His…” Remus prompted.

Sirius’ expression went surprised, and he looked again. The brothers stared each other down. Remus sent Dima an awkward wave. Dima waved back.

Sirius said something in Russian and Regulus raised an eyebrow, shaking his head.

Sirius looked back at Remus. “Friends. Fishing and hunting.”

Remus nodded. “Oh.”

“I really surprise, I…” Sirius huffed out a laugh, but his face went firm again when he looked back at Regulus.

Remus looked around Sirius at the two of them and, in Russian, said, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Remus.”

Regulus and Dima looked at each other, then laughed.

“What are you speaking?”

Remus smiled a little, face flushing. “I know I don’t speak well.”

“Do you have to be so rude?” Sirius sighed, and took their bags. “Did you take the good rooms?”

Regulus shrugged. “Of course, it is just the two of us. Why wouldn’t we?”

Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to Remus. “Be right back. Is okay?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Sirius nodded and started trudging up the stairs with the suitcases.

“You may be big in America, but you’re just my brother, here!” Regulus called after him, then looked at Remus, standing alone and shrugging out of his coat.

“English?” Regulus said, in English this time. Remus nodded.

Regulus shook his head, pointing to himself. “Sorry. Dima—”

“I have better,” Dima said. “You are friend?”

“Oh,” Remus stuttered. “Um—”

“Boyfriend,” Regulus said in Russian, and Remus stared at him, trying to gage his reaction.

Regulus waved him off. “He thinks I don’t know.”

“But…you do?” Remus said.

“Yes.”

“You tell him?” Remus asked.

“He will tell me, now,” Regulus turned and walked down the hall.

“Please,” Dima said, and gestured for Remus to follow him.

Regulus looked uncannily like Sirius although, where Sirius was rounded out with muscle and his shoulders broad, Regulus was leaner, his features sharper.

“We…have lunch?” Dima said. “Yes? For you and Sirius?”

“Yes, please,” Remus smiled at him, then, in Russian, “I help?”

Sirius came back down to Remus chopping a tomato while Regulus fried something that he had called Kotlety in a pan. It looked like meatballs, only breaded and more fragrant.

Sirius eyed it, and Remus recognized the word uncle from Regulus. Regulus nodded.

“He say it is uncle’s recipe,” Dima supplied, and Sirius looked at him.

“Do you speak English?” he said.

Dima shrugged. “Some. I try but…not many times I need.”

Sirius nodded. “I understand. It is hard language.”

Regulus forked the steaming Kotlety onto four plates and Dima topped each with sour cream and onions. Regulus took the tomato Remus had been chopping and placed it on thick slices of brown bread, along with some ham.

“How long are you here, Sivushka?” Regulus asked when they were all sitting at the cozy kitchen table. Snow was falling in fat flakes outside, and Remus took a moment to look out at the land. It looked vast, with a frozen lake in the distance.

I’m here for Christmas and New Year’s,” Sirius replied around his food. “You know that.”

Reuglus said something and Sirius leaned in to translate. “I told my parents I come in two weeks. Wanted to be here with you before.”

Regulus’ next words had Sirius pale, and Remus guessed they had something to do with their relationship because, after a moment, Sirius took Remus’ hand tightly in his own.

“Da,” he said simply.

The table went silent. Remus watched Sirius look at his brother. His gaze was steely, the way it got while he was working, or on the phone, sometimes. But Remus knew how much hope and fear lay just beneath.

“Okay,” Regulus said, and went back to his food.

Remus raised a shoulder when Sirius looked at him, expression surprised. “He said he already knew…”

“How?” Sirius said in English, and then again in Russian.

Regulus just scooped his left over sour cream with the last of his bread and leaned back in his chair.

“Are you going to—” was all Remus understood from what he said next.

“I can’t,” Sirius sighed. “Even if I want to. It’s your house, too.”

Remus gathered Regulus was asking if Sirius was going to make them leave.

Regulus just shrugged, and when Sirius rolled his eyes again, Remus fought back a laugh. Sirius with his brother was different.

“Okay,” Sirius said in English—maybe just to annoy Regulus. “We’re jet lagged, we’re going to nap. Remushya, come, I show you house.”

Regulus’ eyebrows raised at the nickname.

“Thank you about lunch,” Remus stuttered out, and followed Sirius out of the room.

The bedroom Sirius led them to was warm, too, and Remus was full and feeling the full effect of the time difference. He groaned and fell down onto the bed on his back.

“Well, that was surprising,” he laughed.

Sirius fell down beside him. “Very.”

“Hey,” Remus turned onto his side, hand on Sirius’ chest. “At least he took it well. He seemed okay.”

“Regulus is not my mother,” Sirius sighed. “Or my father. I love them, I do…and I miss them, but…have see so many new things since leaving home. I’m worry—worry they don’t understand. They’re harsh people. I’m just—not really know.”

Sirius sighed again and pulled Remus onto his chest. “We sleep now. So tired. Maybe they are gone when we wake up, just bad dream.”

Remus laughed. “Maybe.”

Remus woke up groggily to Sirius closing the bedroom door as gently as he could. He winced when he turned to meet Remus’ tired eyes.

“Sorry, baby,” then, he rolled his. “Not just bad dream. Still here.”

Remus snorted, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost dinner time. Slept for maybe four hours. Should get up now.”

Remus sat up slowly. He felt like he had sunk half way through the bed to the floor. Sirius laughed softly at the sight, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and stroke a palm over Remus’ sleep-heated cheek.

“I’m bring you orange juice, okay? It help with sleepy.”

Remus hummed, fingers closing around Sirius’ wrist. “Just a little longer. Come here.”

“We get so off schedule,” Sirius warned.

“We have nowhere to be,” Remus smiled as Sirius swayed forward with the words. He kissed his lips, easing him down over him until he could wrap his arms around his waist. “Come here, love.”

Sirius laughed softly, but settled down.

Dinner was delicious and not as awkward as lunch. The brothers seemed to be getting along better, and they made Remus feel alright about needing a translation.

Things got more serious after dinner. They were drinking tea spiked with strong liquor, and Remus felt warm all over, tucked into Sirius’ side. Dima and Regulus were stretched out on the floor in front of the fire, eating some sort of caramel candy.

“When was the last time you talked to mother?” Remus made out Regulus saying.

He felt Sirius stiffen beside him. “Um. Last week. Confirming plans.”

Regulus eyed him carefully, pushing himself up from resting on his elbows to resting back on his palms.

“This is what will happen, okay?” Regulus said, elbows moving to rest on his knees. His dark hair was framed by the firelight. “I’m telling you right now.”

“Okay…” Sirius began.

“They’re not going to be okay in the beginning,” Regulus said. “But I can see you think you are going to be in danger. That isn’t true.”

Sirius sighed. “I don’t think danger, I just think…” Sirius looked down. “I will no longer be…you know, the successful child. I’ll be something else.”

Regulus scoffed. “You’re the successful child because I am the unsuccessful child, not because of your love life.” Regulus shook his head. “Sirius, they love you. This is true, at least.”

“But what if not after?” Sirius said, then pressed his lips together. He wrapped his arm around Remus more tightly. “After they know.”

“Then…” Regulus began. “Then I convince them.”

Sirius looked up. “You would?”

Remus looked at Sirius, trying to gage his reaction—his real reaction.

Regulus tilted his head from side to side. “Okay, fine. Then I try to convince them.”

“You—” Remus began, trying to find the words. “Maybe, yes, you help. Good to have brother. Other people.”

“I brought Remus because…” Sirius looked at Remus, eyes searching and worried. “I wanted them to meet him before they decide how they…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Regulus said. “Remus just said. I’m your brother.”

Sirius let out a breath, rubbing his eyes and then staring at the fire. “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” Regulus said.

“How was I suppose to know that?” Sirius snapped. “We don’t speak.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Sirius opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it again. Remus felt him sag a little against his side and held him tighter.

Regulus sighed. He looked at Dima, and Remus watched him raised a shoulder. Then, he finished off his glass and looked back at Sirius.

“We’re leaving in the morning,” he said, and the rest was lost on Remus, but he didn’t look upset. “It’s fine, it’s fine, we will go back to be, what?”

He said a word in Russian and then Dima said, “spoiled.”

“Spoiled by mama’s cooking.”

“And we see you at Christmas,” Dima said in English.

“Reg…” Sirius said.

“Really, it’s okay,” Regulus nodded and stood. “You deserve good things, Sirius. And you, Remus. And…I want you to have good memories now…even if the later ones aren’t. Know it’s okay with me.” Then, he looked at Remus. “Our family will like you.”

“I hope so,” Remus replied and Regulus laughed.

“You really do have a horrible accent.”

Remus laughed, too. “I know.”

He looked at Sirius, and was glad to see the faintest of smiles there on his face.

The next morning, they watched Regulus and Dima pull out and down the road from the living room window, and then Remus smiled, feeling arms around his waist. He could smell the fresh blinis waiting on the counter for them.

“I think he’s right,” Remus said, imagining the two of them driving down that same road, towards Sirius’ family home. “I think it will be okay.”

“I hope. But now, just us,” Sirius said with a gentle kiss to his neck.

Remus leaned against him. “Just us.”

#12 days of ficmas 2020 lumosinlove #solntse #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #wolfstar #lumosinlove

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raspberryranpo · 3 years

Note

Heyy may i request Russian caravan tea or chai tea with obey me brothers? Love your headcanons ^^ Stay safe xx

obey me brothers & russian caravan + chai tea

obey me! shall we date?: obey me brothers

russian caravan tea: how experienced are they with relationships?

chai tea: how do they spice up their relationship?

i’ve been watching jojo with my dad & i’ve just noticed that joseph, smokey & caesar are voiced by the voices of lorenz, akechi/hubert & nagito 😭 dead

——> tea prompts

LUCIFER

how experienced are they with relationships?

he’s experienced all right. he’s had many a partner, but most of his relationships weren’t really centred around love

he probably finds it hard to love someone genuinely with his stubborn pride and all that

but he knows exactly what he’s doing and how to go about things - he’s very attentive

how do they spice up their relationship?

lucifer is very stubborn and doesn’t like to admit his true feelings - we all know that, so to spice up his relationship, he’d probably give in and just tell you exactly how he feels

it has to happen when he’s tired, he will not do it otherwise; it definitely cannot be around his brothers, either

you’ll both be lying in his bed & he’ll be telling you how much he cares for you and how much he appreciates all that you’ve done for himself and the people around him

MAMMON

how experienced are they with relationships?

mammon’s definitely had quite a few partners of his own, too

i bet that mammon always falls quickly and deeply for someone, which leads to him always getting really upset over breakups that he causes himself

so yes, he’s had partners, and he knows what he’s doing. doesn’t mean he won’t cry his eyes out if he upsets you at any point though

how do they spice up their relationship?

i’ve heard somewhere that when the avatar of greed likes you, you’ll find yourself being surrounded by riches (or something along those lines)

so that obviously means that mammon likes to buy you pretty things whenever he thinks of you, right??

maybe he’ll get decide you deserve bigger & get you a holiday to somewhere fun in the human world with an extra ticket (in case you decide to bring along your favourite demon)

LEVIATHAN

how experienced are they with relationships?

not at all. he probably has not had a single girlfriend for longer than a few days because they quickly realise how bad his envy can get

he’s dated online girls. by online girls i mean anime girls because he’s probably just as awkward on mic to girls as he is irl

levi likes to think that he knows what he’s doing, though. he definitely does not, so you’ll have to coach him through this because he doesn’t think he’ll get very far

how do they spice up their relationship?

to spice up his relationship, levi’ll probably just take you somewhere where he wouldn’t normally take you

i mean, there’s no way he’s leaving his room or going any further than the arcade. there’s no chance.

levi probably designs some sort of game in which you both get sucked in & visit all of your favourite places, and at the end, he sucks up his awkwardness and tells you how much he seriously appreciates you

SATAN

how experienced are they with relationships?

satan’s probably had a few significant others over the years, but not any that he actually cared about

but he reads a load of books every day, and he’s probably one of those types of people that can just imagine how to do things & do it perfectly

he doesn’t need experience when he’s got a mind like that

how do they spice up their relationship?

most of your dates are quiet cafe dates, or you both sit in his room reading together, or you both wander off and bug lucifer for a bit

so to change things up, he takes you somewhere a bit more exciting - maybe to a fair ground, or an abandoned cave full of lost spells

holds your hand constantly, wherever you go - he says it’s to make sure that you don’t get lost, but he just really wants to hold your hand

ASMODEUS

how experienced are they with relationships?

asmo is very experienced with relationships... but not of the romantic kind

i mean, he’s had a few romantic partners, but never for too long since commitment probably isn’t his kind of thing

but you’re very different. he’s said before that he feels an attraction to you like he’s never felt before

what do they do to spice up their relationship?

i think we all know what asmo’s ideal date is, so i’m not going to say it

but he’s not ALL about that. i mean, sure, he lives for that kind of thing, but he also loves doing little things with you that don’t have to lead up to that, you know?

he’d take you to a small cafe on the edge of town, where neither of you will be bothered, and you’d sit there & talk about whatever you like for hours

BEELZEBUB

how experienced are they with relationships?

beel probably did have quite a few partners before he met you - he is a demon, and one of the strongest in the devildom, but he has the biggest heart out of all of his brothers

he knows what he’s doing but that doesn’t mean he’ll do it all that well

he just gets kind of nervous around you at times - he cares so much about you that he constantly worries that he’s not doing the best he can

how do they spice up their relationship?

when asmo told him that he should change things up & spice up his relationship, his mind went straight to curry and spicy chicken and peppers.... oh....

but he knew what he meant. so immediately he started planning something exciting, something different - a short hike to see the stars!!

he’s a romantic like that. when you get there, he shows you his & belphie’s stars, the stars of his brothers, and he even names some constellations that you’ve never even heard of before

BELPHEGOR

how experienced are they with relationships?

you really think belphie has the will to get out of bed and talk to someone other than his brothers?

absolutely none. he could not care less about relationships and the like (well, before now, that is)

he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. please help him

how do they spice up their relationship?

by actually getting out of bed for once, obviously

his ideal date is just lounging around in bed all day, and since he feels a bit bad that nothing else ever happens, he’d take you out to a fancy restaurant somewhere

he knows that fancy restaurants are always romantic date spots, so he makes sure to constantly make you feel loved while you’re both in there by throwing compliments at you left, right & centre

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call-me-drartemis · 3 years

Text

More Todomomo head cannons

All these head cannons go with my head cannon that they have an arranged marriage.

See this post to hear more about that.

At first Shoto really struggled with figuring out how to be a good partner and husband for Yaoyorozu. So he spent a lot of time with his mom and asking her about what he could do.

The first time yaoyorozu met Rei was when they were in high school. (SPOILER not really though???) She went to take some flowers to Enji at the hospital on behalf of her parents and she found Rei and Feyumi scolding Enji.

Shoto.com broke seeing all his favorite ladies in one room. He couldn’t handle Rei laughing at something yaoyorozu said.

Shoto becomes a himbo house husband after they get married. Like all he does all day is simp, cook and clean.

The first time they said ‘I love you’ Shoto said it and it was right after momo yelled at endeavor for being dumb and putting himself in danger. She was so angry that she started making those little Russian dolls without even thinking. Shoto was in such a shock that she could stand up to his father he just couldn’t help himself. This was a couple months after they decided to be romantic.

He got all blushy and bashful he turned red.

Momo laughed at him and said it back kissing his cheek.

Their first “date” was on their year anniversary. Shoto told her he loved her and wanted to be more than friends.

Momo has really bad cramps so she uses Shoto as a heating pad.

They have matching sweaters

Shoto encourages momo to be sassy.

He sits there like. ‘Mhm don’t let him talk to you like that. Remind him who you are!’

75% of shotos closet is Creati merch ( another 20% is deku merch )

I do see them having kids but when they’re older. Like late 30s and the only reason is because Bakugo teases momo (Mhm 😌 he gonna get his ass beat) about how he’s raising the next #1 hero and how his kid is gonna knock her off the top rankings.

Momo was not having it so she walked up to todoroki and said ‘we need to make a baby.’

He’s his daddy’s son so he was excited.

Bonus

Enji loves yaoyorozu’s sass

For his birthday momo buys Shoto a ‘Fuck Enji todoroki’ shirt.

He’s gotten in trouble for wearing it to the grocery store

Rei braids Momo’s hair

They also have tea time every week

Rei lives with them

Momo and Bakugo and bffs 👯‍♀️ cause they’re always competing for the #2 spot

#todoroki headcanons #mha todoroki #todoroki x yaoyorozu #todomomo #momo yaoyorozu #my hero academia yaoyorozu

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Text

Don’t Let Go ~ Alfie Solomons

I’m in love with one man and one man alone. Mum and dad love Alfie too, but they still can’t take him away from me ;;;

How did she end up like this, she wondered? They were family...Even though her last name was not legally “Shelby”, she was still a part of the family since she was born. The parents were best friends, and when her parents died, Polly took her in. And then, they grew up together - Same home, same beds, same food, same clothes...Same everything.

And then, war came, and while true, she was younger than even John - Not by much, only about 3 years - But that didn’t seem to bother either of the Shelby siblings, and she was especially close with Arthur and Ada, mostly because they were the ones with the warmest hearts, and could understand her gentle one as well..

However, Tommy was the smartest of the family, and Polly taught her enough about Gypsy street-smarts, so the three of them together somehow became the true heads of the family, the true backbone that kept everyone straight and together.

When war came, she was barely 16, and yet, she joined them, dressing as a man and pretending to be a volunteer physician, healing and running around the battlefield, only to end up helping them dig up tunnels and plant explosions...

And taking a bullet for Tommy.

And nearly dying.

But at least, by the time they returned home, 4 years later, she was called an honorary Shelby and Polly officially adopted her.

She wasn’t Y/N L/N anymore, she was Y/N Shelby, and she was damn proud of that.

She helped with fixing races, rode around with her gorgeous black mare, going to the Garrison with her brothers to make sure they don’t end up drunk, in a ditch, she helped the strategy against the Lee family, got beaten up by Sabini, beat him up right back, got in that whorehouse of a Russian noble family, let the Duchess touch her while in her underwear, got beaten up by the priest, had to blow up a train with good people and many more...

But nothing was bringing her down, because she was a Shelby, and she was strong - Mentally, Physically, Emotionally - And she wanted to make sure the family was together, or at least trying to hang on, somehow.

She was the perfect woman - Never drank, never smoked, never cursed, never did drugs, never did drugs, never dated anyone...

But when one day, Thomas took her on a meeting at Alfie’s place... Boy of boy, was that entertaining.

She always appreciated Thomas’s ambition, cunning and intelligence...But Alfie? Alfie was something else. Something much above him, no much smarter, so much better at scheming...And at everything, really. And she was attracted by him like moths to the light.

Back and forth talks, interesting insights on life, learning words in foreign languages that she didn’t know, but he did, and likewise, teaching her foreign stuff, talking to him about books and many other things...

And it was weird, but it almost seemed like she didn’t want to leave that place any time soon, but Thomas needed her for business, so what could she do, really?

And she agreed...And agreed...And agreed...

Until one day, when all things went completely upside down and...Sure, she did her job, and she was supposed to return to Alfie’s to have a chat with him and Tommy... And she did...

As soon as she stepped inside the “Bakery”, she saw Ollie, whose eyes widened in shock seeing her in that state.

“Miss Shelby, what happened?! Let me call the physician-...I’ll go inform Alfie-...” Ollie stumbled over his words, only to have her grab his sleeve and pull him back. “Don’t tell them I’m here. With the way I look, better make it a surprise. Tommy’s here, right?” she asked, slamming the doors open, walking inside, the clicks of her small heeled boots resounding all over the place. “B-But Miss Shelby, we have to treat you - “ Y/N simply shot him a glare, before continuing in a straight line. “Ain’t a Shelby anymore.” she muttered, and soon, she reached the middle of the wide business room, as Alfie was sitting at his desk and Tommy was pacing. “Y/N...Finally, you’ve arrived. What happened to you?!” Thomas asked, rushing to her side, only for her to push him away. “You lied to me, Thomas. You lied to me. You promised I wouldn’t get hurt. That you were gonna make sure they wouldn’t touch me. That I was gonna come back perfectly unharmed, not even a strand of hair touched. Only business talks. How do you think that went?” the girl looked down, her hands deep in her bloodied, yet incredibly fancy and silhouette-fitting high-waisted pants. “What exactly happened with the Sabini meeting, Y/N? And why are you covered in blood?!” he asked, frowning. “It’s fine, not ALL of it is MY blood, thanks for worrying, THOMAS!” but as she rasped out his name, she started coughing up some blood, and as her side started burning in pain, she lifted her already disheveled shirt, applying pressure with her hand where she got shot to keep herself from bleeding out. “Well...This one is.” she used her sleeve to wipe her face, completely non-chalant. “Y/N...Tell me what happened...Please...” Thomas’s voice went lower, almost as a soothing whisper, but it was quickly obliterated by Y/N’s exaggerated, yet pained laugh. “I got beaten up, raped and shot by Sabini and his men. That’s what happened, Thomas. No business talk, just abuse. You promised nothing will happen to me...But, oh, damn, remember that you told Lizzie the same too, and she, that fucker raped her at the Derby too, when you were too busy fucking around with two other women? Oh, wait...Is it because I’m a woman? Because, the way I see it, all women that you have in your life get abused somehow...By you. Grace died because of you. Ada left the city because of you. May got hurt because of you. Esme hates you...There’s also the Duchess, but she very much outsmarted you, so she’s safe and...Still a noble woman. And don’t even get me started on Polly...Poor woman...Having to endure living in the same world as you. For the amount of time you spend fucking women, one would think you’d be more considerate of them.” her beautiful eyes were sharp and hateful, throwing daggers at the man in front of her as she continued to pace around, her tongue speaking the poison that very much tainted her heart over the past many years of her life. “...Y/N. I know you’re in pain, and that I’ve hurt you. I know. You are right, I agree. I’m aware. But it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t have known, and-” as he continued, the girl calmly approached him, and as soon as she was right in front of him, she back-slapped him, thanking her classy mind for wearing lots of rings that day. As she laughed at the way the wounds showed up on one side of his face, she followed by slapping him on the other side, much harder than before. “Shut the fuck up, Thomas Shelby. Don’t speak to me. Don’t get close to me. I am not a Shelby anymore, so you can fuck off...Do you see who you’re doing business with, Alfie? A guy who can’t even protect his family! He got all of us arrested and almost hanged, made Ada go away, made Polly go insane, had Arthur beaten up, me as well, and guess what, Michael got shot and JOHN GOT KILLED! BECAUSE OF YOU, THOMAS! Grace died because of YOU! And your child got kidnapped and almost died BECAUSE! OF! YOU!” with each sentence, she punched him, hit him, kicked him, smashed him head with her knee, then on the wall, then ended by stomping her boot on his stomach...And walked away, as calmly as if never happened. “And...This is not my blood.” “Well, lass, gotta say, yeah, you ain’t as much of an angel as I thought, eh. Or, maybe now more than ever, you’re the angel I thought you were.” Alfie watched from behind the desk, completely relaxed, analysing the show in front of him, and yet, his brain was running a thousand miles per second, thinking of millions of things. “D’you have a free spot here, Alfie? No guns and death and all that. Maybe...Someone to patch up your boys. I don’t know. Hell, I’ll even accept being your secretary or...Flower girl. Cook. Tea girl. I can walk Cyril...I don’t know, anything you want, just get me the hell out of this Shelby hell.” she turned around to look at him, using her other sleeve to clean her face, using the water from her tears. “Heard that, Thomas Shelby? Your sister’s deserted you, and for a good reason, eh. You can leave now, there’s other times to do business, right.” Alfie spoke, getting up and stepping towards her. “This isn’t over, Y/N. We’ll talk again. You’re a valuable part of the family, and you’re coming back, sooner than later.” Thomas went get get out of the building, only for the girl to quickly take out the gun from her jacket and cock it, pointing it at the man. “Fuck off and go to hell, Thomas.” she pulled the trigger... “Stop it, lass, don’t do it! You’re gonna regret it!” Alfie sprung out, holding one of his arms around her body, while his other hand went to her gun, making her shoot a wall instead of a living being, letting the man get out of there, still alive, somehow. “Damn it, Alfie! Why’d you do that! It’s 2 for 0, damn it! I’m fed up with taking bullets to save that guy, while all he does is sit comfortably behind his desk, damn it! I’m not a fucking rag doll that can be tossed in the trash!” she cried, trying to struggle out of his grasp, but the wounds were hurting her too much, so her strength gave out faster and she stood limp in his arms, trembling softly. “S’okay now, lass, yeah. I’ll bring ya to Cyril and we can...Uh...Drink that tea you like, right. Forget that guy, let’s get ya treated, right. Get that bullet out of ya. And sure, y’can be my physician, I know you were a great one in war, yeah.” the Jew gently took out the gun from her hand, throwing it to the ground for Ollie to take later, an he picked her up with much, bringing her to the medic’s room. “I need vodka, cigarettes, and if I’m brave enough some Tokyo...Snow...Whatever you call it.” she groaned as soon as she was place on the bed, as the gangster frowned in confusion at her. “I thought you didn’t do vices.” he sat on the opposite bed, watching her intently. “Woaw, I lied to you and everyone else in the world. I do drink and I do smoke and I did date before...Just...Not when people were seeing me. People think you’re an angel, they will hopefully leave you the hell alone. Difficult being a woman these days, as you can see. Everybody’s treating you like a piece of garbage. And bring me that vodka, I need to have the room spinning before I take out the bullet...And vodka’s the best disinfectant. The hospital stuff is washed up and diluted a lot of times.” she gave him a sarcastic half-smile, taking the cigarette he just lit up and puffed on it. “Only whiskey and rum, if you want, yeah. You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not around here, lass. Just do what you want, nobody’s gonna say a thing, right, and if they do, you know how to use a gun, so shoot their brains, eh, show them all who’s in charge.” he got up, bringing her what she requested, watching attentively as she let her head back, poofing smoke into the air. “Thanks, Alfie. Come back in an hour. I don’t need witnesses of my misery. You know better than everyone, Captain Solomons, that taking out a bullet gets messy.” she pointed the cigarette at him, smirking miserably at him, knowing very well that she wasn’t mentally ready for the procedure. “Well, lass, if you’re very sure, you don’t need help, right, then I’ll be waiting outside.” the Jew patted her head, leaving the room, letting behind only a graveyard silence, that for some reason, creeped the girl out big time. “...Let’s fuck shit up, then...” she muttered to herself, letting the ashes of the cigarette fall pitifully on the bed, as she took a deep breath and violently slammed her hand over the medical tools.

She’s always been a very careful and precise person, and whenever she did this on someone else, she would have people keep the victim down, so she could rummage through their bodies with relative ease, especially after they got shit faced drunk...And maybe with some anaesthesis... But this is the worst. Just like back then, during the war...

Letting a few tears of anticipation fall down her face, she cut a bit deeper into her body, to allow her fingers, previously washed with alcohol, she whimpered and squealed as she searched around for the bullet - It was no easy feat for, but it had to be done, no matter the searing pain -.

It felt like time stopped completely before the extraction of the stupid lead thing, she held it in her hand, watching its taunting gleam glaring back into her eyes, then watched with horror that stupid bottle of whiskey, and with her last strength, she snatched it and putting her pillow over her face to keep the shrieking from leaving the room, and gritting her teeth, she let the alcohol pour out from the bottle, wailing loudly, and yet, hoping nobody would hear her.

She was still sobbing in the pillow, the fire-like pain, electrifying the surging, diffuse pain throughout her whole torso, and she laid there, throwing away that pillow as soon as the door was opened again, and adjusting her head, she noticed Solomons walking in the room, a basket dangling from his arms.

“What’cha got there?” she asked in a weak, whisper-like voice, still trying to recover. “Goodies. Freshly baked cookies. At least something that smells nice in this pigstry, eh.” Alfie’s joking way of speaking seemed to take away her mind, but she smiled apologetically, lifting her hands briefly. “Sorry, too much blood on my hands. Literally and metaphorically speaking.” she explained, only to have Alfie take out one of the cookies and feeding her. “...This...Is the best thing I’ve eaten in my life. Did you make them? Because if you did, you’re like...A Cookie God. Have more?” she asked, managing, with a lot of difficulty, pain and his help, to get in a sitting position. “Well, I’ve never been called a God, right, but it ain’t that bad, yeah. Here you go, one more. I’ll ask a maid to draw a bath for you, yeah, I doubt you wanna stay all bloody the whole day, eh.” he helped her eat another cookie, and weirdly enough, despite all the blood on her face, her small smile was oddly charming. “...Y’know...If you ever want to retire from this gangster bullshit...You could settle down and...Just bake for a living...No, rather, a hobby. I’m sure you have enough money for a life time, so might as well just rest and take it easy. Move away from here...Maybe another country...Or another city, at least...And just...Y’know...Be happy. You could do that...And be rid of stupid Italians and Americans and all these jerks.” Y/N spoke, more or less not directly to him, but in a way, she was projecting her own hopes and dreams. “Margate.” Alfie muttered, sitting down in front of her. “Margate?” she furrowed her brows in confusion, leaning forward a bit. “Aye. By the seaside. The sand is really soft, they say, and the waves are nice, yeah. Very calm town.” he continued, which made her gasp softly in realisation. “You...You DID think about retirement! It means you’re really kinda fed up with this...This mess. I like where this is going.” she smiled softly at him, nodding in agreement. “I think you’re making the right choice, if it makes for anything.” “Y’know, lass, you’re not wrong. We do need a vacation, yeah, and a very long one at that, right. Now, how ‘bout we talk about what you need, right, for this medical thing. You’re a sensible woman, yeah, so, I trust you more with the details and organising.” he pointed, and thus, they started chatting idly about the medical issues, and even more, about life in general - Books, the pictures, concerts, travelling and things...Leisure things, just simple things that she never had the privilege to talk about, and she had no idea she wanted, nor needed.

Many weeks passed and things were unusually calm for her, and for the first time in her life, she felt...Happy. She enjoyed being around Alfie, working with him without being involved in all the killing, and she absolutely loved baking things together, and he was so charismatic and charming, always giving witty remarks that amused her and made her laugh...

It was the perfect life she always dreamt of having, and he even asked if she wanted to go to a jazz pub with him, and...She got to dress up, and do her make up and do her hair, wear pretty, expensive jewellery, and a damn fine dress to show off her gorgeous silhouette, and high heels to match...And she walked next to him, her arm hooked to his, as they enjoyed the beautiful jazz music and each other’s presence.

It was a blissful dream, and she swore that if anyone dared wake her up, she was gonna kill them, and it won’t be quick, nor painless.

“Y’know, Alfie...You’re the best man I’ve ever met in my life. And that says a lot, considering how many men I had the misfortune of meeting...Including my family.” she raised her champagne glass slightly to clink with his. “Maybe you haven’t met the right men, dear, yeah, y’know, and men in Birmingham are fucking shit anyway. Camden’s better, yeah.” the man chuckled mirthfully, leaning back on his chair. “You...Mentioned Margate once. How are things going on with that?” Y/N asked, smiling at him softly. “Well, lass, y’know, yeah, things are...Things are fine. But, uh...You see...The doctor said I’m sick. They aren’t really sure yet what’s wrong with me, alright, but they said the results should be given pretty soon, yeah.” he admitted after a few seconds of consideration, which made the girl gasp in shock, moving her chair to look at him better taking his hands in hers and leaning forward. “What did they say about it? Did they take blood sampled? Wanna do blood work? Or...Biochemistry tests? Or something more complex?” Y/N bit her lip, looking concerned like never before. “Don’t worry, lass, even if I die, yeah, I’ll still make sure you get paid for your hard work, alright?” the man tried to brush it off, but the indignant look on her face made him chuckle. “I’m gonna kill you if you imply something like that again. I don’t need your money, I just want you to be healthy and alright, got it? Now come on, tell me, what do they suspect. Also, where is your doctor’s clinic, and when will your results arrive.” she pressed on, waiting for an answer. “Come on, don’t be so serious, yeah, enjoy the show, it’s not every night we get to have fun, right?” Alfie, again, tried to play it off as nothing important, but the look on her face made him sigh and nod, giving in. “They think’s cancer, right. I got a tumour, they’re checking if it’s...Uh...Cancer or not. right. Doctor’s around here in Camden, results come out sometime in a week or two, that enough?” he rolled his eyes, and yet, he was grateful for her worrying. “...I guess. If I knew, I would have done the lab work myself, but, you know...If anything, I can do the procedure myself... Or maybe I should hold your hand and make sure you’re not scared. They have to do general anaesthesia, cut you open and all that...It won’t be fun.” she looked down a bit, before smiling encouragingly at him. “Y/N. I’m a big boy now, right, I’ll be fine, no need to worry about me, yeah, you just...You be okay, and relax, and-...And before long, we’ll go to Margate together.” he continued, trying to calm her down, without realising at first of the commitment, until he noticed the excited gleam in her eyes. “Alfie...? Are you...Are you sure...? Margate is the place you want to go to...Why would you...Me...?” she muttered, almost unsure of how to react. “Let’s go home, eh. I want to make you some nice tea, yeah, and some cookies. I have to tell ya something, and I’d rather it not be out.”

Alfie squeezed her hands, helping her get up, and the walk home was filled with anticipation and a comfortable silence that wanted to rip out the answers out of his throat.

He let her dress in more comfortable clothes, and so he did, then went down to prepare some nice and warm tea, with the biscuits he baked that day, and went to her room.

“Do you like me, Alfie?” she asked in a shushed voice, not daring to raise her head to look at him. “What’s not to like, lass? You’re smart and witty, and for some reason, you find me funny, and look at ya, you’re gorgeous, right. So if I say, yeah, I want you to come to Margate with me, I mean it. You just have to agree, aye. Get away from this and rest. God knows we need this.” he had a sweet smile on his face - A smile that quickly faltered when he saw stray tears falling down her face, and he started worrying. “Why...In the world...Would someone as amazing as you...Like me? Alfie, you’re...You’re amazing, and me, I’m...I’m the worst. I can’t let go of the past, and I’ve got like...This...This devil inside me...This Shelby devil that keeps whispering in my ear, saying that I’ll never be happy, and that I’ll...I’ll kill again, and I’ll be dragged back to that slum and...And all that happiness will just shatter and...And I don’t deserve you.” she looked down, hoping her long her would hide her face, but next thing she knows, she got brought into a tight embrace, and he stroked her hair, his chin on top of her head, waiting for her to calm down, and yet, he could feel her trembling softly. “Don’t say things like that, yeah, that’s not true. You’re with me, not with them anymore, right, so, then, you’re going back. I won’t let them take you back, if you don’t want to, aye. No need to cry, right, I’ll protect you from anyone who dares try to take you away, eh, even if it’s Tommy Shelby himself, so no need to cry, yeah, Y/N?” he spoke, only to feel her cling even tighter to the back of his shirt. “I...I’ve...I’ve never felt like this before, Alfie. You make me feel so warm...And safe...And happy...I’ve been hold before, but all I felt was repulsion and fright...I was panicked and I wanted to run away...But this...This never happened. And I think I love you, Alfie. Don’t let go of me, please.” her voice was barely audible, but Alfie could feel the raw emotions, so he laid down with her on the bed, holding her dearly. “It will be fine, Y/N, okay. None of these worries will come to you again when in Margate. You and I will be happy, away from here, yeah, so, know that I love you, and let’s wait just a bit more, so we can get rid of this Changretta mess, and we’re leaving, eh.”

And it was true - From that night on, they slept in the same room, holding each other dearly, reassured that the next day, things will still be as good as the previous night. One morning, however, Alfie woke up without her in his arms, and he panicked, thinking the worst - Poor Ollie thought he was going to get killed - But it was all fine, as she returned with the biggest grin on her face, jumping in Alfie’s arms, not allowing him the chance to say a word, only shocking him. And she held his hands and dragged him to his room, getting him to sit on the bed, and at first, she wanted to make tea, but then she shook her head and brought a bottle of the best whiskey, poured it in the glasses and had him drink.

“Damn it, lassie, don’t fucking scare me like that, yeah, like, at least tell me in advance if you’re gonna leave, okay, I thought those fuckers got ya for good. What the hell was the urgency?” he asked, drinking the glass in one go before looking at her. “I...Well...Haha, sorry ‘bout that, I’m just...I’m sure super happy. So, as you know, today the doctors had to mail you the test results, so, you know, I seem to have been a bit too eager to find out, so I since there were no trains, I walked all the way to your doctor, told him this and that, then got the first train back, and here I am. Oh, and, obviously, I’m super happy ‘cause like, I couldn’t keep myself - Sorry ‘bout that, by the way - So I ripped the envelope and looked at the results. And, uh, yeah, so, I’m happy ‘cause - Look ! - No cancer! You’re completely, 100% cancer free! And, like, the tumor completely benign, no invasiveness, no metastasis, so this is completely curable by surgical removal, and it won’t affect your life span, nor will it, in any way, alter your health. Et, voila, here we are! Go on, drink, cheer, be happy, I know I am!” she laughed gleefully, watching the shocked spark in Alfie’s eyes as he took out his glasses to read over the annoyingly complicated medical stuff, but he was a smart guy, and he understood everything there is to it. “You’re the best, shiksa. You say things are gonna turn out bad, but here, look, they aren’t, and hey won’t right, ‘cause clearly, there’s something up there, alright, that’s looking out for us, and it ain’t only me making sure you’re fine. I’m happy, Y/N, and in less than a month, aye, we’re fucking away from here. Just the two of us...And Ollie as a butler, if ya want. And we can get as many dogs as you want. We can do whatever we want, really.” he hugged her tightly, cupping her face and kissing her tenderly.

It all went sweet and soft at first, and it got hotter and hotter, with much more passion than before, and one thing led to another, and their first night of overflowing love gave hope for a better future, one that will ensure their happiness and that won’t involve them in this stupid gangster war anymore.

Just him, her and Cyril, maybe Ollie too, at the side...What better life to have than this?

But just one week before they had to leave, as they were still preparing for their grand exit, Y/N was walking towards the clinic room to check on the few patients she had left, only to notice the glint of guns, and she did a turn around, looking for Alfie, and yet, Ollie stopped her in her tracks as soon as she saw her, rushing to hide her from the people who were, apparently, having a meeting with Alfie.

“Ollie, it’s an emergency. Life or death, I promise. I NEED to speak to him. Who is he having a meeting with?” she asked, holding her clipboard close to her chest, looking left and right carefully. “With the Sabinis. Now, come on, Y/N, whatever it is, can wait. I’m sure you can wait a bit with Cyril. Please.” Ollie pleaded with her, but she only started writing rapidly on her clipboard, letting the first two pages filled with obvious, typewriter-written pages about standard medical procedures. “I’m sorry, Ollie, but this is bigger than even Sabini. Come with me and NEVER leave Alfie alone with those sharks, got it?” she gave him a sharp look before rushing to the usual place Alfie had business meetings, and as she completely ignored the villains, she slammed the clipboard on his desk, giving him a look. “Very important medical business thing, I need your signature after you read through these.” as he was so much taller than her, she only needed to bend a bit to talk into his ear, carefully flipping the first two pages, only to reveal big, messy writing.

ENEMIES WITH GUNS IN THE MEDICAL WARD POINTED TO THE BOYS DON’T TRUST THEM

Alfie gave her a look, knowing shit went bad, he nodded slightly, getting a pen and, as his signature, he wrote “TELL OLLIE”, and ushered her to leave. And so she did, and Ollie went to alert the other guys so they could ambush the enemies in the medical ward, all while cursing herself and preparing guns, hidden in her long trench coat, then returned to stay by Alfie’s side, her hands placed on his shoulders reassuringly.

“Mr. Solomons, I see the little song bird likes flying around to every powerful gangster family. Wonder if she’ll go to the Changrettas when she’s done with you.” the Sabini leader smirked at her, and Alfie could feel her nails digging into his flesh, and not even the good way this time. “Listen, listen, Mr. Sabini,eh. You come here, begging me for fucking favours, right, and then, you dare fucking speak ill of my partner, yeah? So, where is the fucking time where you, like, do something to make me want to do that fucking favour of yours, if the only fucking thing you make me want to do is to fucking grant you the favour of putting you out of this miserable fucking life, right?” there was no clearer indicator that Alfie was angry than when he cursed like his beard was on fire, and true, YN found it very weird, considering how sweet and gentle he’s always been with her, but she could feel the protective aura he gave off, and she never felt safer than now. “Aye, aye, Alfie, don’t overreact, please, it was just a merely innocent joke! Lighten up, let’s discuss business. We teamed up with Luca Changretta, we can give you money and exposure. We can sell your rum and weapons all over Europe, especially France and Italy, and that means, in the long run, a ton of money. I’m sure you’ll agree with me, won’t you?” Sabini spoke, and from the corner of her eye, she could see one of the men taking out a gun from the back of his pants. “Mr. Sabini, I will have to ask you, as Mr. Solomons’s secretary, not to take out any weapons, otherwise our men will shoot all of you, with no discrimination.” Y/N threatened in a low voice, taking her hands from Alfie’s shoulders, and crossed her arms to her chest, ready to draw her weapons at any second. “It’s alright, Y/N, right, I don’t think Mr. Sabini is fucking stupid enough to dare a shoot out in my own fucking warehouse, eh.” Alfie warned the Italian gangster, snapping his fingers for Ollie to come by. “Vaffanculo...Che stronza! No, fine, fine, we’re all calm, all good, right? We can have a business deal and leave this place happy, both parts, right?” Sabini spoke, using his hands to gesture everyone to calm down. “Stick that deal up your ass.” Alfie cursed Sabini in perfect Italian, making Sabini straighten up, almost as if he got sobered by a hammer to his head, and without a second to wait, some of the lackeys drew their guns.

But they were too late, for Y/N already had both guns out and killed most of them, starting with Sabini himself, and Ollie’s boys helped up just enough to have the Red Sea at their feet.

Once all the enemies were laying dead on the cold, wet ground, Y/N sighed, throwing the guns to the ground, sighing and staring at the carnage with the eyes of a dead fish.

Alfie nodded to himself, pissed off at the mess that just had to happen, a week before they were going to sail to a better place, without either of them having to bloody their hands anymore, just like now.

“Well, Ollie’s got them all, so we’re good now. The sooner we finish the preparations, the better. Let’s hope Changretta the Bitch gets blown up...I should go check on Cyril, I’m sure he got scared by the gunshots.” Y/N sighed, patting him on the shoulder before turning on her heels to leave, and yet, Alfie motioned to Ollie to clear the mess, and then followed her back to their room, watching her cuddle with the beautiful dog. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Alfie asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching to stroke her hair, only for Cyril to reach to get his head pet instead. “Aw, Cyril...You’re the cutest baby ever. And...I will be, Alfie. I will be. Soon...Once we leave, I will be. Until then, I’m happy spending my time with you and Cyril. It relaxes me...And it makes me happy. WE are happy.” she reached out her hand, holding his, intertwining their fingers together and leading him to lay on his side, with the dog between them, like they were a family. “Well, darling, it’s just a few days longer, and we’re out of here, right. And we’ll be a family, like you want, and by the shore, there’re no more gunshots, right, so, we can learn how to swim, and we can mess with this slobbery bastard, and I can teach you how to bake other things. I heard the waves and the salty air help you sleep better. Ain’t that just fucking perfect, eh?” Alfie gave her a sweet smile, and laid there, with her, relaxing. “Sounds amazing, Alfie. I can’t wait for Margate, then. Just you, and me, and Cyril...And maybe Ollie too, y’know, that guy makes the best tea, ain’t gonna lie.” she giggled, squeezing his hand lovingly. “Aye, it’s gonna be great. And, we can travel wherever you want, whenever you want. Any country, any city, any date. You pick, we go. Sounds good?” Alfie asked, smiling tenderly at her excitement, happy that she wasn’t stuck on the previous blood bath. “Yeah, it sounds perfect. As long as we’re together, everything is better.”

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #ada shelby #polly shelby #elizabeth gray #michael gray #finn shelby

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7nosecrinkle7 · 4 years

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49 and 58 with Natasha if u r willing please ❤️

49. “Not with that cold.”

58. “Was it worth being out in the snow/rain like that?”

***This is the first time I’ve written for Natasha. Thank you so much for your request and waiting; my apologies for this taking so long! I hope you enjoy it <3

———————————————————————-

Worth It

Natasha was known for being blunt, cold, and efficient. No personal attachments, no contact with anyone outside of the tower or the other Avengers. But with you, Natasha was sweet, kind, and always patient. You found that when she wanted to be, she was a very chivalrous person… Particularly with you.

She had planned tonight's date night. It was rare that you were both off and not training or recovering. After a candlelit dinner on the patio of this cute new restaurant, you both decided to take a detour through the park. It had been so pleasant the last few nights, so why not? The wrought iron light poles were lit up, creating a soft ambiance as you made your way along the cobblestone path. You weren't alone in the park. Several other couples had similar ideas, but your attention was fixed on the redhead next to you; the lights sparkled exceptionally bright in her eyes.

You had recently picked up the hobby of reading more on your breaks, and Natasha asked about the latest one. Your entwined hands swayed front and back as you walked.

"Honestly, it's better than the summary made it out to be. There's been so much character exploration in the first few chapters, and I'm excited to--" You cut off mid-sentence. It had been a series of beautiful evenings, so neither of you thought to check the weather. You felt a distinct drop of water hit the tip of your nose. You looked over at Natasha.

"Did you feel that?"

"Feel wh--?" Natasha asked and stopped short when she also felt a drop or two.

Of course, it started raining. It was just a drizzle first; One of those light summer sprinkles that was still warm. You shrugged and kept going, the both of you chuckling.

"I won't melt," Natasha said and kissed your cheek.

You smiled and gave her a peck on her lips. You then nudged Natasha's shoulder with your own, thinking it was kind of romantic. So you continued walking.

The pair of you made it about another ten feet of soft droplets until that drizzle got a little heavier and a lot colder.

You and Natasha took off at a run to the little shop at the park's end to buy an umbrella. Thankfully it was still open this late.

Natasha held the door open, and you stepped in out of the downpour. You shivered lightly as the air conditioning hit your wet skin.

The umbrellas were right by the door, so Natasha scooped one up and went right to the counter.

"Will that be all?" The store owner asked.

"Yes, please," Natasha handed over the cash for the umbrella. You could see Natasha was a bit chilled with the way she shuffled, waiting for the change, but you could help the noticeable shiver that shook your shoulders.

"Here," she said, taking off her leather jacket.

You waved it off, "no, Natasha, then you'll be cold."

"I can handle it," she shrugged and smirked, "I'm Russian, I'll be fine." You always loved wearing Natasha's jackets, and she loved seeing you in them.

When you stepped out of the shop, Natasha opened the umbrella. It was ever so slightly too small for the both of you to fit comfortably, but with Natasha's arm wrapped around you, you made it work. She definitely didn't tell you that she was still getting rained on thoroughly, though.

Natasha had a smile on her face that was mirrored on yours. The pair of you laughed your way back to the tower, cracking jokes with each other and really savoring the time together.

A quick, warm, shared shower later, and you were both asleep in Natasha's bed.

………...

You woke up and glanced over at the clock. It read 02:00AM, but you didn't need the digital numbers to tell you. It felt early. You looked around the room, not seeing any immediate threats. You never woke up in the middle of the night.

You figured it out quickly enough, though, when you heard the sounds of Natasha's light snoring. She never snored. Even in her sleep, the black widow did not make any unplanned noises.

A dry cough escaped her lips before she continued snoring, not waking up in the process. Her head was resting on your shoulder, her increasingly stuffy breaths puffing against your chest. She'd cuddled up against you at some point during the night, draping an arm over your stomach.

"Oh, Tasha," you whispered and rubbed circles on her back. You placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

You continued rubbing her back as you drifted off to sleep again.

…………

The second time you came into consciousness, you definitely knew what had awoken you. You felt another nudge into your side and a heavy sigh.

"Bless you," you said, voice thick with sleep.

Natasha sniffled beside you, "Sorry I woke you."

"No, don't worry about that. Are you okay?" You asked and brushed some hair away from Natasha's face.

Natasha groaned and rubbed at her nose, "I've been better." She sniffled; the congestion was unmistakable.

"Here, love," you said and reached over to grab the box of tissues.

Natasha swiped one from the box and buried her nose in it.

Huh hhnxxt…. Hih hngt-shoo!

"Bless you, Nat."

She blew her nose and sniffled a few times, "thanks…" Her hand came up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She sniffled again and let out a few light coughs.

Natasha took a deep breath and sighed before getting out of bed and moving towards the closet. You watched as she pulled out a pair of workout clothes.

"Um, Natasha? What are you doing?" She'd gone from cuddling to getting ready for the day while clearly verging-on-feeling-miserable. "We still have another couple of days off."

"Yeah, but I need a workout. I was going to go running. Want to join me?"

You blinked at her a couple times. Natasha very rarely got sick, not even an annual case of sniffles. She wasn't great at this whole 'being sick' thing. You got up and took both of her hands. Carefully, you backed up towards the couch in the living room.

"Not with that cold." You said and sat down on the couch, pulling Natasha with you.

"Uhm, love, what are you doing?" Natasha asked, swiping at her nose again. She looked genuinely confused.

"You're sick, so you're going to rest. I'll bring you tissues, tea, and we can just relax the day away. You got sick on our date trying to keep me out of the rain. So now I'm going to take care of you."

Natasha went to protest but stopped. "You know what? I'd love some cuddles and tea and tissues." As much as she would've loved to go for a run or get a good workout, she was feeling more congested by the minute. A run would've been murder on her sinuses, the pounding already becoming a bit overwhelming.

While you went to go make tea, Natasha was on her own mini-mission. If you were both going to spend the day on the couch, she wanted to make it comfortable. Natasha grabbed the extra blankets from the bedroom and both of your pillows. She grabbed one last thing before making it back to the living room.

Natasha got everything set up before getting herself situated. The moving around had already worn her out more than she would ever admit. The shifting had also upset her sinuses.

Not having tissues yet, Natasha buried her head into her elbow with a handful of desperate sneezes.

Huuhh hih eTTSHeew!... hihesSHew. AschHEww!

Natasha took a few quick sniffles, keeping her arm in place.

"You sound absolutely miserable," you sighed, coming back into the living room. You put your hand on Natasha's back as she blew her nose in the provided tissues. You couldn't help but feel a little guilty about the whole situation. You hung your head and shook it a little bit. "Was it worth it being out in the rain like that?" You wondered aloud and glanced over quickly before looking back at the tissues you'd just placed on the coffee table.

A warm hand grasped yours. You turned back towards your girlfriend only to be met with the most patient yet earnest look. "It absolutely was worth it. Any time spent with you is worth it no matter the situation."

You still looked unconvinced. Natasha gently tugged you toward her on the sofa until you were lying against her.

"What would make me feel better are some cuddles… And maybe this." Natasha pulled out the latest book you were reading from behind her on the couch. "You wanna read it to me?"

You smiled and sighed, "I'd love to."

#snzfic #sneezefic #7nosecrinkle7 #sneezing #snz #snzblr #sickfic #natasha romanoff/reader #natasha romanoff x reader #crinklewrites

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

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Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 8

******

Heat rises from the mug in front of you, warming the finger you swirl around the rim.

At your right sits Bucky, Steve on his right. They’re talking about this show they’d been told to watch by Sam. You were engaged in the conversation since you’ve seen the show, but your thoughts have pulled you to another place.

Thoughts about your date with Natasha later. She told you straight out that it would be simple: dinner and a walk in the park. That did nothing to quell your nerves though.

Your distraction is short lived.

“What’s on your mind, Doll?” Steve asks, Bucky’s boot nudging your foot under the table.

Looking up from the mug of tea, you sigh,“ I’m nervous about my date with Natasha later.”

You say it as if they knew anything about it. Last they checked the two of you were avoiding each other for whatever reasons.

Steve leans forward, careful not to knock over his water,“ date? You and Nat?”

“Mhm.”

“When did this happen?” Bucky asks, gaze flicking to Steve then back.

You almost smile at the clear concern in his eyes. He cares about you.

Running a hand across the back of your neck, you answer,“ yesterday. We talked, which I don’t think would’ve happened so soon if not for Liho, but we-”

Steve frowns, hand raising a little,“ who’s Liho?”

“Natasha’s cat. She’s an adorable little thing.” You smile fondly talking about the cuddly, yet very nonchalant cat.

Now both men are frowning. They hadn’t seen any cat, apart from Goose that is. When had Natasha gotten a cat? Why?

Deciding those are questions for later, they ask you to continue.

You nod,“ yeah so after Liho found me I went looking for how he got in and ran into Nat. I asked if we could talk and she said yes and long story short I told her I have feelings for her despite barely knowing her and she reciprocates.”

“Did she specifically say she has feelings for you?” Bucky is quick to ask.

You nod, smiling a little wider.

His brown eyes narrow,“ just be careful.”

That makes both you and Steve look at the man.

“Is there something I don’t know Barnes?” You laugh as you ask, but both of them pick up on the nervousness in your voice.

Bucky sighs, pulling his lip between his teeth,“ there’s always going to be something you don’t know.”

Trust Bucky to be blatantly honest with you. You appreciate it but it makes you a million times more nervous about this than before.

Insecurities rise in you and it once again detaches you from the present again.

Obviously you and Natasha will always be learning about each other. People change like the weather and there’s nothing wrong with that, it just means you need to remain openminded and understanding.

However, the way Bucky said, it sounds more like Natasha will always be keeping things from you.

The hours leading to your date, you spend in your office. With the space being your comfort zone, you’d hoped it would calm your racing thoughts and pounding heart.

But it doesn’t. So you nervously get dressed and head to the common room to wait.

“Wooow, you look great Y/n.” Steve says, eyes respectfully taking in your outfit.

You smooth your hand down the burgundy top and black pants with a deep breath,“ you think? It’s not too much for dinner and a walk right? Or maybe it’s too little? Shou-”

“You look perfect.”

That smooth, sultry voice sounds behind you, words coming out with a breath of air.

When you turn, you find her smiling softly at you, green eyes quickly scanning your form but snapping to your e/c ones. And you take a moment to look over her outfit.

Only to notice that you’re unintentionally matching. The woman choosing to wear a short black dress and a burgundy leather jacket.

Like always she looks beautiful and you tell her so, a little more breathy than she had told you.

“Thank you,” her smile never leaves,“ you ready to go?”

Nodding, you both say goodbye to Steve and Bucky, who watches you both cautiously.

You two move around each other, as if scared to make any sudden moves. It’s clear you’re both nervous, about this going badly but also, the slightest fear that it goes well.

If it does go well the dynamic between you two changes. How you can’t know, not until it happens, but it will change.

Despite those fears and Bucky’s warning playing at the back of your mind, you will yourself to relax and enjoy this moment with Natasha. And it’s only settled in you to do so when she pulls up to the restaurant.

You feel horrible for not having said anything to her the whole ride. How uncomfortable had you made her? How awkward had this become?

“Do you plan to stay in there all night? Cause a dinner for two would suck without you.” Natasha’s lighthearted joking pulls you into reality.

She’s standing outside your open door, hand waiting for you to accept. And when you do a warmth blooms across your hand, up your arm, and through your body.

You mumble a thanks as you step out of the car and walk hand in hand with her to the restaurant.

As soon as you’re seated you smile apologetically to Natasha,“ am I completely bombing this date?”

“No,” she chuckles,“ I’d love to have a conversation with you but it’s okay that you’re nervous.”

“How are you not?”

Red hair tussles with a shake of her head,“ if you tell anyone I said this I’ll deny it but, you make me incredibly nervous.”

A few simple words make you that much more comfortable. Your heart still races but for a different reason.

The softness in her eyes and the smile on her face pushes you even higher up a mountain of feelings that you’re sure you’re going to fall from. And throughout dinner you find more and more reasons why falling wouldn’t be a bad thing.

She focuses so intently on the things you say, she makes you laugh, and she continues to challenge you.

“Wait no! You shot Sam?” Your eyes widen at the woman’s story.

Having finished dinner, you both moved over to the bar and continued talking. One White Russian and a glass of Pinot later, you’re both past the nerves.

So much so that your legs are pressed together at the lack of space between you both as you face each other, your fingers brush every so often almost subconsciously.

The comfortability level having risen with each passing moment.

Natasha’s hand waves as she lifts her White Russian to her lips and sips it,“ he was fine. It was a widow’s bite. And I warned him.”

You feel a little bad for laughing but you keep picturing it in your head.“ So your defense is that you warned him? Tasha that does not make it better. I’ve never been electrocuted but I imagine it’s not a good feeling.” You say through more laughter.

That falls short when you see the way she’s looking at you. A glimmer in her eyes and a smirk on her lips.

Her eyebrow quirks,“ Tasha?”

You did just call her Tasha. Said it as if you’d known her forever and it was just what you called her.“ I’m sorry I-”

“It’s fine. More than fine.” She assures you.

Neither of you had paid much attention to the time, until the bartender comes over to tell you that they’ll be closing soon.

Finishing her drink, Natasha looks at you,“ still fill like a walk?”

You nod and follow after her out the restaurant.

Quiet settles over the two of you again and it opens the door for your thoughts to pick back up. They range from how much fun you’re having with this woman, to the hopes of there being another date, to the thought of this progressing beyond just that, to getting to know her more and liking everything else you learn.

And then you remember what Bucky had said: there will always be things you don’t know.

As your feet carry you down the path Natasha notices the, near foot, of distance between the two of you. Then focusing on the frown knitting your brows the way your finger taps against the strap of your bag.

She can admit that she doesn’t like how quiet you’ve fallen. Especially not after how talkative and open you’d been just at dinner.

“You’re being uncharacteristically withdrawn again.” She points out.

Hearing what she says, you quickly direct your gaze to her. You notice the small smile on her lips so as not to intimidate you and the demanding worry in her eyes.

“Sorry I’m just-” you cut yourself off with a deep breath.” I guess I’m thinking too hard about something Bucky said.”

What it was she doesn’t need to know, if she doesn’t already.

The inside of her eyebrow raises,” funny statement coming from someone who’s avidly told me to ignore what others have to say and focus on my own opinions.”

“Well that’s not the same.”

“How so?” She replies quickly and challengingly.

“It’s-” nothing. You have no rebuttal because it’s the same.“ Okay the scenario application is similar.”

A smug grin plays on her lips and she takes that moment to step closer to you. Her teeth nibble on her bottom lip as she thinks, before asking,“ have I done something to make you rethink things?”

The pause you take scares her a little. She runs through your past interactions in search of where she may have hurt you or done something wrong.

“No, you haven’t. I’m just- you didn’t exactly make things easy in the beginning. And everyone is different so I didn’t expect you to be as open as I am it just makes me a little hesitant. I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t hurt for you to be all in now only to pull away later.”

When you’re finished you spare a glance at her from the corner of your eye. Taking in the way she’s looking ahead and not faltering in a single step.

She nods,” I see how my actions haven’t proven to be dependable.”

You scoff and chuckle at the same time,” no kidding.”

A little laugh escapes her,” I can’t promise you that things will be easy, especially not with me of all people.”

You don’t expect it to be but you keep that affirmation to yourself as she continues.

“But I can admit that I value our relationship, what it has been and can be, and I’ll try, harder if need be, to make you feel secure in what this is.”

Natasha Romanoff, diminishing fears and insecurities with a single smile and honest words.

Heat rushes up to your face and you duck your head, focusing on your shoes instead of the woman who has not ceased to make your heart pound.

Coming to a halt, you reach over and grab her hand before you can think yourself out of it. Your hit with that warmth from before and you wonder why you hadn’t held her hand the whole time.

“I trust that you’ll keep your word.” You tell her.

Trust is still a growing concept to Natasha. You know that. It’s why you chose those words. And she knows it.

It’s why she so quickly pulls you into her and plants her lips on yours.

And this was the epitome of what Natasha could make you feel, so far at least. That warmth from her hand was nothing in comparison to her soft pink lips on yours.

You take a hold of her waist and press closer just a little more in hopes of this not ending. But you both have to breathe of course.

When she pulls away, her eyes slowly open to catch yours.

After a moment of silence she says,“ I wonder how my therapist is going to react to the news of me seeing someone.”

Grinning stupidly you tell her,“ something tells me she thinks it’s more than okay.”

******

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#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #prove me wrong #reader insert

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kuroo-shitsurou · 3 years

Text

Communicate (Haiba Lev x kuudere!Reader)

note: first entry for haikyuu! i'm open for requests, just hmu! i apologize for any mistakes. some of my stories were intentionally made to be f!reader, but i figured gn!reader would be more appropriate. so i apologize if you see any she/her/names that are in the text. ^^

(i'm adding w/c now as well!)

word count: 3.8k

"He's not coming back tonight, no?"

For a few moments, there was silence. A gust of wind blew past the apartment complex, rustling the leaves of the trees planted down below. You sat on the chair set up on your balcony. Looking over the metal railings, you admired how the yellow and red taillights of cars stuck in traffic bobbed up and down the street. Somehow, they looked like Christmas lights tossed in a messy line; Like they were discarded the morning right after Christmas because the tree had to be taken down again.

You hugged the jacket closer to your arms, hoping to gain more warmth. Inhaling the fresh scent of laundry detergent, you smiled. Eyes crestfallen and tears just barely swimming in your ducts. The cold breeze of December brushed past your hair, tickling the back of your neck. It's the first Christmas I'm spending without you.

Your cat, Maika, jumped on your lap. She purred and mewled, rubbing her head against your warm hand. You managed to choke out a small chuckle, petting the white fur of the cat. You let your eyes wander to the glass doors connecting the living room and balcony. Your couch was there, a duvet carelessly thrown on top of it. You shouldn't help but let a few drops of salty tears fall down your cheeks.

You weren't really the type of person to cry over silly things. In fact, you rarely cried at all. As far as you remember, the last time you cried over something petty was back in second grade. You were teased for cutting your own hair; Your bangs looked choppy, and one classmate even mentioned how you managed to cut a giant chunk out from the back of your head. Admittedly, you were pretty stupid for messing around with the scissors you found on the table, but you didn't really know any better. Anyway, who knew that hair took so long to grow back?

Other than that, you don't recall crying anymore. Throughout your middle and high school years, tears weren't really present to disrupt your life. Not even when Kuroo accidentally spiked a ball into the back of your head, and not even when Yaku accidentally kicked your shin because you were standing too close to his original target, Lev.

Lev.

Although you didn't find any reason for letting yourself cry during those years, you couldn't help but tear up when you remembered Lev. You were incredibly proud of yourself for counting up to five days without crying every since Lev left your shared apartment. However, today was Christmas eve. There were approximately three hours before Christmas, and here you were, spending it with Maika, on the balcony, crying your eyes out.

To be completely honest, you knew that it was your fault that Lev left. You were a rather independent person. You had a bold personality; Never afraid of being blunt to people, never afraid of telling others if they needed to be scolded. However, you were an absolute novice when it came to showing affection to Lev.

It was a surprise, to say the least, to the entire volleyball team that the cold-hearted manager, _____-san, was dating the eccentric and hyperactive first year, Haiba Lev. Yaku, Kuroo, and Kai were in shock upon hearing the news from Lev. At first, they thought he was just kidding, but when they heard it from you, their minds were beyond boggled.

"Eh?!"

"Seriously?"

"Kuroo-san, why do you look so surprised? You too, Yaku-san. And Kai-senpai, I didn't think you'd be interested in my love life as well." You calmly said, clipboard firm against your chest, as your eyes scanned the volleyball posters displayed in the volleyball club room.

"W-Well, I didn't think it was actually true because Lev was the one saying it. I thought he was just bullshitting us." Yaku admitted, scratching the back of his head before sending you a sheepish smile.

"You're growing up too fast, _____-san!" Kuroo quipped, wrapping his arms around you like a doting aunt, "You have a boyfriend now, I'm getting old!"

"Kuroo-san, please stop patronizing me. I have feelings too. Why does this come as a surprise to you all? Inuoka-kun and Futakuchi-kun also asked me if Haiba-kun and I were actually dating. It's not like I'm a robot or anything, I can... contract love too." Your disheveled form pried Kuroo's arms away from you, and you dusted your shoulders off as if Kuroo left dirt atop of them.

"You don't contract love, _____. It's not a disease." Yaku laughed at your poor choice of words.

"You, see _____-san, we just didn't think that you were interested in romance for the time being, and for you to be dating someone like Lev, it's surprising. In a good way, though, don't get me wrong. Lev's a good kid." Kai was the calmest of the bunch, but he was simply masking his happiness. He was the one who invited you to be their manager, after all. He saw how you grew out of your shell gradually. It's nice to see you enjoying the years of your youth, as Kuroo would put it.

"Ah, I see. To be honest, I didn't think I would also participate in a romantic relationship with anyone this early on. However, Haiba-kun successfully caught my attention. I think it would be a fun experience. Whatever happens, I get to grasp a further understanding of our Russian first year, and I also gain knowledge on the department of... love." You mentioned nonchalantly.

Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai all exchanged knowing looks; Something that screamed: "Are you sure you're not a robot?"

"_____-chan!" Lev's excited voice was heard from outside of the gym. The first years finally arrived, signifying that practice would begin soon.

"Pardon me. Thank you for your time." You bowed politely to the three seniors and walked over to where the first years were leaving their things.

"_____-chan I missed you a lot today! I only got to see you in free period earlier, and that was barely 10 minutes, but you're here now!" Lev was like a puppy. He was bouncing around, showering you with genuine compliments and adorations, his smile reaching the heavens above. Perhaps, if you pat his head, an invisible tail would wag? You considered the idea.

You managed to hold back a smile of your own, only replying with, "Get prepared for practice, Haiba-kun."

"_____-chan, you can call me Lev, you know? Since we are dating and all." The Russian said softly, wanting to get his point across, but not wanting to scare you.

"Maybe next time, Haiba-kun."

When you slipped inside your living room, you couldn't help but let out a few more sobs. There was a Christmas tree left half decorated just beside your television. Cans of tea and red bull were laying just on the feet of the couch. Half-empty and empty packets of chips were on the coffee table. God, you left the living room in such a messy state.

You pulled Lev's enormous (Well, it was enormous on you. But on Lev, it was the perfect size) jacket closer to your body, wishing you could smell his scent instead of the laundry detergent.

Maika wandered into the living room and onto her cat bed, stretching her paws and making herself comfortable before she went to take a nap.

You couldn't help but acknowledge the absolute dumpster fire when you saw yourself in the full body mirror near the entrance of your hallway. You were wearing a pair of fuzzy pajamas, an oversized shirt covered in stains and crumbs, and Lev's Nekoma jacket. Your hair was messy and ruffled, and you looked... pale. Eyes red and swollen, cheeks puffy, but your lips were white. You had never looked so awful before.

"_____-chan, you look amazing as always!" Lev came bounding to you.

"Congratulations on graduating! I'm so proud of you!" He took you in a tight embrace, lifting you up and spinning you around.

"H-Haiba-kun, please put me down!" You squealed, wriggling around in Lev's grip, trying to get away. For a split second, you could've sworn that Lev's face darkened, but you decided to brush it off.

Once your feet touched the ground, you managed to say a short and quiet "Thank you."

"Ah, this is really happening, isn't it?" Lev shoved his hands in his pockets, looking up at the cherry blossom trees in full bloom.

"Y-Yeah. It will even eventually happen to you too, Haiba-kun. It's the way that life progresses," You knew that you were pathetic at mustering a good enough reply, so you chose to fumble with the hem of your collar.

"Hey, _____-chan, do you love me?" Lev asked, suddenly serious. His gaze was still fixated on the trees above, their branches freely swaying in the wind, a few cherry blossoms fluttering down as the breeze carried them away.

A blush creeped up on your cheeks. Of course you loved him! More than... anything, if you were being honest. More than volleyball, more than red bull, more than anime, but why couldn't you say it?

"Speak up, damn it!" You thought to yourself.

After a few minutes passed, you were still tongue-tied. You hated yourself for not being able to express your feelings. There were already tears in your eyes, but you didn't want to cry in front of Lev; You vowed that you never would.

Lev looked down to see his senior in a low mood. "Don't worry, _____-chan! It's okay if you can't say it yet, I understand." Lev caught a single cherry blossom as it was falling down and tucked it behind your ear, " I'll wait for the day that you can say it back, so for now, I'll say it for the both of us, okay?"

You were embarrassed. You were such an asshole for doing this to Lev. To make up for your lacking skills in communication, you tapped his hand. Curiously, he opened his palm, and you placed a small object on top of it.

Lev's smile contained nothing but pure, concentrated glee.

"Thank you for the button, _____-chan, I will always cherish this. Happy anniversary. I love you so much!"

You found yourself standing at the doorway of your shared bedroom. You longingly stared at the queen-sized bed. The sheets were crisp and the pillows were fluffed. You haven't been sleeping in that bed since Lev left the apartment. It just didn't feel right. There was something about a heavier loneliness whenever you tried to sleep alone in that bed when you were so damn used to having Lev sleep beside you. That's why you've been sleeping on the couch ever since; It's uncomfortable as all hell, yeah, but at least you don't feel a large empty space beside you when you sleep. Maybe a few crumbs here and there, but that was bearable.

You pattered your way back into the living room, where your laptop lay buried under the empty chip packets. You grabbed it from underneath the rubbish and brushed off other residue before plopping down on the couch. You slipped your arms into the sleeves of Lev's jacket and opened up your laptop. You've been neglecting your uni works for the past days because your sadness just didn't allow you to function properly.

Upon entering your passcode, the black background of the loading screen faded into a photo of you and Lev. He was wearing a minnie mouse headband, and you wore the matching mickey mouse one. You were standing in front of sleeping beauty's castle at Tokyo disneyland. You were wearing Lev's gray hoodie, which made it look like you were wearing a really short dress because of how long it was. You were both smiling like idiots, and you recalled that that trip was one of the best of your life. You never usually smiled like that, but because Lev carried you bridal style and kept touching your sides, you couldn't help but squirm and smile in the photo.

Once again, tears were brimming in the corners of your eyes. The stinging pain of heartbreak and regret stabbing you over and over again.

"It's Christmas in five days, _____." Lev popped up from behind you while you were decorating the tree.

"Jeez! Don't scare me like that, I nearly dropped the lights." You replied, calming your racing heart. Was it because of how he scared you, or because of how close he was? Honestly. you couldn't tell.

Lev could only chuckle at this, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He gave you a kiss on the cheek. "You know, my first year at uni has been great so far. Thanks to you and a few of my friends."

"That's great then." You said, tone of voice returning to a monotone one.

"I love you, _____."

You couldn't even recall all the times that you froze up whenever Lev admitted his feelings for you, but add one to whatever number it's at right now.

You could only swallow your saliva and grip the lights tighter. Say it, ______, say it! You kept yelling in your head. Why can't you fucking say it?!

"I knew it." A low laugh was heard from Lev's mouth. His fists were turning white because of how hard he balled them up. His nails were digging into his palm. "Sometimes, I wonder if you even actually love me. But I guess you never did."

You turned your head abruptly. "Haiba, that's-"

Lev let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. "We've been dating for over three years now and you still call me by my last name. Are you that uncomfortable with me, _____-san?"

You cringed at how he emphasized the honorific following your name, probably trying to prove a point.

"You know that's not true."

"Of course it is!" He snapped. " For god's sake, _____, three years! Three years, and not once have you told me that you love me!"

You were on the brink of crying. No. No, not in front of him. You weren't weak, you weren't going to cry.

"In all those years that we've been together, I have never seen you cry. Not even when we're upset with one another. Are you... that cold-hearted that you don't care or you don't even feel anything? Not even for your own boyfriend?"

Silence.

The words he spat were like venom.

You couldn't speak. Your mouth felt dry and your throat felt like it closed in an instant, like some sort of invisible throat cover just squeezed itself right there, preventing you from speaking.

"I see how it is."

With that, Lev spun on his heel and went to their room. He grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with a couple of shirts, his wallet, his phone, charger, and other necessities. He slipped on the thickest jacket he owned and went straight to the front door.

"Le-"

"Goodbye."

He slammed the door shut.

That was probably the first time that you broke down in years. Who knew that it would be a guy behind your facade fading?

Who knew that Haiba Lev would be the one to make you realize that being strong-willed didn't mean being cold-hearted and nonchalant?

"Stupid Lev." You muttered to yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. Admittedly, his name seemed to roll off your tongue nicely.

You desperately tried to wipe your tears away, but they just kept coming.

"Why do I love you so much?"

"Lev, are you sure you're okay with what you're doing?" Yaku asked the taller male, taking a sip from his beer mug.

"Yaku-san, we've been together for a little over three years. They've never told me that they loves me. Never even cried. I think they're just that stone-hearted," Lev replied, taking a shot of vodka. "Either that or they're a fucking robot."

He fiddled with the necklace around his neck, contemplating whether he was going to pull it off and stomp on it until it broke. The charm attached to his necklace was the button that _____ gave him on back during her graduation day.

"Lev, you better listen to me, and you better listen real fucking good." Yaku's tone of voice was sharp, and it was something that Lev hasn't heard since his years at Nekoma. "You do know that _____ can't express their emotions well, right? They're blunt with everybody, and they're honest. But when it comes to love or romance or feelings that make them happy, you know that they can't show it as easily as you do."

"Yeah, I know." Lev answered quietly.

"But you do know that they love you, right?"

"I don't."

"You're telling me that you've never even felt that they love you?"

Suddenly, Lev's eyes shot open.

"Christ, you're going to catch a cold! Why the hell did you run out in this rain?!"

"Sorry, sorry! I just had to rush here to see you! I missed you soooo much!"

"Get inside and hop in the shower. I'll prepare some warm food for you while you're in there. There's a spare towel in the cupboard above the sink."

"Thank you, _____-chan!"

"Stupid beanpole. I told you to change clothes after practice yesterday, didn't I?"

"Sorry, _____-chan. I totally forgot." He coughed.

"Here, drink this medicine. I'll reheat your porridge and grab you a cold towel for your head. I'll also bring in the assignments that Inuoka gave me."

"You'd be a good wife, _____-chan. My wife, that is." Another cough.

"Shut up and rest before I hit you with this notebook."

"Yes, yes, darling."

"Where were you?! We've been looking for you everywhere!"

"S-Sorry, _____-chan. I saw this cat stuck in a tree and I just had to rescue it!"

"Don't go running off like that! Do you know how worried the team was? How worried I was?! I thought you were gone! Look at how many scratches you have on your arm. You need to go to the infirmary, now."

"I-I'm sorry."

"Just... Don't do it again, please. Always be in my line of sight."

"Yes, _____-sama!"

"Haiba, here's your water bottle."

"Haiba, the forecast said that there might be a downpour in the afternoon. Don't forget to bring an umbrella."

"Haiba, you left your books at the gym. Here. Jeez, don't be so forgetful next time."

"Haiba, here, I bought your favorite meal. Furihata said that you forgot your lunch at home. You can't go hungry."

"Haiba, you're doing well. Your progress report shows continuous growth. I'm proud of you."

"I'm a fucking idiot." Lev said. His emerald green eyes were filled with tears. "Excuse me, I have to go."

With that, he dashed out of the bar, leaving a confused Yaku with a drunk Kuroo passed out behind him.

The former libero could only sight and take a giant gulp of beer.

"Damn right you are."

You were full on crying right now. Approximately 10 minutes before Christmas, and here you were, crying on the couch. Maika had given up on comforting you, but remained by your side as you bawled you eyes out, offering some sort of moral support or assurance that someone was there for you.

However, a few moments passed, and Maika's ears perked up. She jumped down from the couch and made her way to the front door of the apartment. She lightly scratched the door.

"M-Maika, I'm sorry. I know I'm being too loud, I'll pipe down soon." The girl blubbered, blowing into a tissue.

As if on cue, there were multiple knocks on the door.

Fuck's sake.

You didn't even care that you'd be facing whoever is on the other side of the door while looking like this. Your eyes were puffier, the bags under them more prominent. Your nose was a rosy red color, cheeks flushed and tear stains were obvious on them.

"Who the fuck-?"

As soon as you opened the door, a sudden warmth engulfed your body. The familiar fragrance you loved so much flooded your blocked nostrils.

"Le-"

"I'm sorry."

There was silence.

"I'm so sorry for everything that I said, _____. I take all of it back. I know that you love me. Your love language isn't vocal and I should have been more accepting and understanding of that. I may not know your reasons for being the way you are, but I promise you that I accept you wholly. I'm so, so fucking sorry that I left so suddenly. I love you so much. I'm never leaving you again."

Sobs racked through your body. Your form was shaking in Lev's arms. He was surprised. It's the first time he's seen you cry, and it breaks his heart knowing that he's the reason behind it.

"I'm sorry, kitten. Please don't cry anymore."

"Lev," You started, attempting to calm down, and Lev swore his heart stopped beating for a second, "I love you."

For a moment, everything stopped. They could hear the neighbors yelling "Merry Christmas!" in their own units.

"P-Pardon?"

You giggled. "I love you, Lev. I'm really sorry that it took me this long to tell you. I guess I was just scared of telling you how I really felt because... I didn't want you to think that I was cheesy or..."

Lev cut you off with a kiss. It was short and sweet. He could taste red bull and barbecue chips on your lips, and you could taste vodka on his. It was imperfect, but it was yours, and you loved it.

"I love you so much, _____. This is the best Christmas gift I've ever received."

"I love you too, Lev."

"Come on, let's get inside. I bought some takeout for us to eat." He easily lifted you up with one arm and grabbed the plastic bag of takeout with his free hand.

"Yeah, about that," You buried your face in his neck, "I'm sorry."

"We'll... Clean up tomorrow." He chuckled, looking at the messy state your living room was in. "We'll eat in our room, okay? Why don't you get cleaned up first, and I'll prepare the things we need." He placed a kiss on your cheek.

"Alright, Lev." You replied, "Sorry for causing a lot of trouble."

"Don't be sorry, malishka. We're fine now, okay? We have each other and we understand each other better now." He set you in front of the bathroom. "Now, go ahead and shower! I'll get a fresh set of clothes for you and leave them out here."

"Thank you, Lyovochka." You grinned, using Alisa's nickname for him.

"Anytime, babe." Lev turned around to go to the bedroom until,

"Hey, Lev?" You showed your head out of the bathroom door.

"Yes, _____?"

"I love you!"

The, the door was slammed shut.

"_____, you're too cute!" Lev had to use every strand of will power he had to not faint on the spot.

Who knew that his kuudere partner was such a huge softie?

Maola mewled and rubbed her head against Lev's leg.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Maika."

#lev haiba #haiba lev #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #lev haiba x reader #haiba lev x reader #lev x reader #kuudere

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

Wednesday 6 November 1839

8 5/..

12 35/..

fine but dull morning F59 ¾° on my table now at 8 57/.. and then had Grotza till 9 25/.. = 28 minutes .:. dressing = 1 23/.. hour! too much by 23 minutes – at the grammar in Reiffs’ dictionary till breakfast at 9 40/.. to 10 35/.. = 55 minutes at breakfast! times like distances are long here – Letter from Mr. Parker dated 21 October containing copy of Booths’ (manquée) of 10 August – Just read the letter over with A- before breakfast and talked it over afterwards doing little else till now 12 50/.. – had a man about an hour ago with silks (maikoff – sent by princess Radivill [Radziwill]) – [Persiennes] at 2/50 l’archine, and 5/50 for [Sarsinets] narrowish = 20 archines for a dress – and

white satins (also made about 20 versts from Moscow) at 15/. per archine – the man said 15 archines of satin for a dress – as princess Radivill [Radziwill] said last night cannot go to a fête in black or grey (mourning and ½ ditto) – must go in colours – the 1st balle des nobles here will be 6 December (O.S.?) the emperors’ birthday – must go in white all white for this is a sort of signifying that one is in mourning at other times – a person in mourning for their own mother must put it off on this occasion – if we did not choose to dress, might go into the balcon around the room, and look down upon the people – but we should be hot, and it would not be comfortable – and there (in the balcon) one could not be in black or grey – compliments came before breakfast and the princess would be glad to see us to dinner today at 4 – compliments back and would be happy to wait upon her – ‘tis now one p.m. and R +1 1/2°= F33° - then wrote ‘Mrs. Lister presents her compliments to Mr. Marc, and will be glad to see him tomorrow evening – Howards’ hotel – Wednesday morning – (25 October)’ – Directed it to ‘Monsieur A. Marc Esquire, etc. etc. etc.’ out about 1 ½ to the boulevard – found it wet and raining small rain and damp .:. did not alight, but drove round the boulevard turning to our right, and returning to the Tverskoi [Tverskoj] (our walk-boulevard) and thus home at 2 40/60 – then walked about (dining room and passage) at home till 3 – dressed – at 4 went to the princess Radivill [Radziwill] - her mother princess Rousoff, there taking a whet of caviar cheese, before dinner – the prince R- had sent for the marchand with stuff for A-‘s cloak and at her instigation (advice) for my robe de chambre – 10 ½ archines for me + 4 ½ for A- = 15 archines at 5/50 per archine – this settled, we sat down to dinner about 4 ¼? Russian soup – patés – veal (a shoulder?) but done so [?] we helped ourselves (handed round) with a spoon – then came roast pig partly cut up (but I had to cut myself a smaller piece) with a little gelinotte (cut up into legs and wings etc.) on the same dish – then the 2 little glass dishes of preserve were handed round and lunel wine as liqueur, and we got up from table – 1st Madera – then Medoc – then Laffitte (Bordeaux) 2/50 and 3/50 the bottle and a bottle of santerne a bottle at each corner of the table – the princess opposite her mother to whom I gave my arm, as desired in going out, and the princess R- led out A- coffee – note from prince Galitzin to ask me to dinner at 4 tomorrow brought in just as A- and I were coming away for ½ hour about 6 ½ - being to return afterwards to tea – the ladies dress very much here – princess R- very good about telling it – must have a toque, or one feather, or something, or flowers in my head – princess R- would have sent for toques to her apartment for us to look at tomorrow but her mother put this off – saying it would be of no use – we had best go ourselves – the mother had mentioned our going to the ball des marchands on Sunday next as a sight worth seeing – people of all nations there - and then said the bals des nobles would not begin till the emperors 6 December O.S. – as a sight, I said much obliged and would go to the bal des marchands next Sunday – it is en face – but now (7 50/..) on 2nd thoughts, why should we go? better at home

SH:7/ML/E/23/0121

on coming upstairs wrote in answer and sent by prince Galitzins’ servant who waited, the following answer ‘Madame Lister présente ses complimens au Prince Gatizin [Galitzin], et elle se fera grand plaisir de diner chez lui demain à quatre heures – Mercredi – 25 Octobre – au Général, le Prince Galitzin, gouverneur général militaire, de la ville de Moscou, etc. etc. etc. had just written so far at 8 3/60 Princess R- sent to say tea was ready – we went immediately at 8 5/.. and staid till 9 50/.. – her father and her other 2 sisters there and the husband of the young sister count Cuthaiof or some such name – he talked much against our going to the Urals – could not go in a vossok – must go en traineau – 30° to 35° of cold – might be robbed – to be very sure of our professor poor little de R- Recommended an Englishman, a Mr. Bell – damp drizzling small rainy dirty day – the 1st of this kind we have had F61 ½° now at 12 ½ tonight

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poetrusicperry · 3 years

Text

some writing

basically, these posts are just a lot of ideas and things i had in my head after reading all the details people gave me about themselves. they might seem pretty hectic and a bit long, but i hope i did ok and i hope you like them !! there is a ship, there are hcs, and a little blurb about the ship at the end.

for the lovely @spchxy– thank you for the inspiration, ally !! <3

ship:

first of all, i feel super inclined to say that i think i’d ship you w todd. i’m not really sure why, but i can’t get that thought out of my head when reading all the details you shared about yourself (: you guys just seem like you’d be one of those cute, quiet couples that never needed to try hard to express how much you both cared for each other; you both just sort of knew and thoroughly enjoyed the other’s company.

hc:

somehow i feel you’d be able to bond with neil over cats ? like both of you would just adore them, and you’d even find a stray around campus that you would take turns feeding every night, sneaking something out of the dining hall.

charlie is either a complete morning person or he sleeps in til 12 (usually on weekends), but when he gets up at the crack of dawn just because, he’ll come bother you to come hang out with him on the grounds or something, which you’d only allow because he’d somehow sneak a mug of coffee for you from the kitchen.

you and charlie both had a habit of drinking way too much coffee during night study groups, which led to you two staying up into all hours of the night just talking or sneaking out and exploring the town around campus.

during your time at welton, you had successfully stolen at least one sweater from each of the boys, and they all noticed, but the only ones who ever mentioned it to you were knox and neil. todd noticed, too, but with his painfully obvious soft spot for you, he never minded.

you pretty much did charlie’s hw for him the entirety of senior year, as his senioritis had reached a level that not even meeks could pull him out of LOL

lots of movies w the poets and pitts had a huge stash of popcorn that you guys quickly depleted throughout the year (even warranting a trip to the grocery store to buy more halfway through the year lol).

if you were ever feeling bad, todd would want to be there for you, but he never really knew why, so he would just hang around you and lay with you (after asking you if that was okay, and confirming multiple times that it was ok [we love a gentleman]). you found that just fine, too. somehow just being in todd’s presence was enough to ease whatever mental or physical discomfort you were in.

on graduation day, neil gifted you his green sweater™ stating, “it has served its purpose for me for the past four years, and i know how much you love it” when you asked him if he was sure you could have it.

todd gifted you a handful of various russian books (that he had read and annotated previously just to have things to talk about with you (‘: ), and were very obviously wrapped by todd himself in newspaper. also got you a stationery set so you would write to him when you both were away at college (what’s funny is that you got him one, too, for the exact same reason, but you both were going to write anyway).

charlie made you both matching keychains that included a flashlight and compass (claiming that you’d need both when you decided to go on late night adventures in college). he also stole you one of the mugs from the kitchen to take with you to college (:

knox would give you the rest of his welton sweaters, as he decided he needed more room in his closet for his college merch, and he knew just how much you loved to take them anyway.

blurb:

as nice as the days around campus were, night was even better, and early mornings exceeded both. there was something about being the first one awake, or being able to take in the dawn’s silence fully; no bustling cars, no shouting students, just a pleasant lack of life’s general soundtrack. often, you would find yourself sitting up on the roof of welton before the clock even read 5:30a.m. with your copy of dr. zhivago (or whichever russian author whose book you had chosen to invest yourself in that week) and a plain mug of hot coffee from the cafeteria in tow, you would make your way up to the roof, always completely unsurprised upon finding todd up there as well.

it was your first year at welton after transferring from a different private school in vermont, but in your short time there so far, you had somehow been introduced to a painfully shy boy, todd anderson, who sat next to her in chemistry. on the first day of classes, todd had accidentally knocked your notebook off the desk by bumping into it on his way to sit down, which he almost immediately apologized for, stuttering the entire way through his sentiment. since then, however, after you'd sworn up and down that it wasn’t a big deal, they became pretty comfortable being seat buddies. as the weeks went on, and the air cooled slightly, you found todd talking to you more (or at least making an effort– sometimes he would just get too nervous or shy). apparently, as you had found out later, neil had been goading todd to talk to you for a really long time, and giving him tips. nothing was ever labeled or officially set that you two were dating, but it was pretty evident to everyone around you that you two shared a way more special bond than just chemistry deskmates. you two spent a lot of time together, filled with lots of literary talk, or just enjoying each other’s company while working on other things or, pretty often, you would also just sit in silence leaning into each other while hanging out with the other poets.

on this particular morning, though, todd just wanted your company, so he sat with you while you read (after a sleepy sounding “good morning, ally. y-you look cute in that sweater” [which was his bc you stole it]), admiring the way your eyes scanned the pages and how every once in a while you’d re-read a section a couple of times, marking it for future analysis (let’s be honest, he’d be completely enamored with you no matter the time of day or activity). when it got closer to 7a.m., he’d nudge you a little and you two would descend back to the dorms talking about the previous night, get ready for the day, and have breakfast together with the poets.

overall, you and todd would just be such a cute, pure couple enjoying the small things, drinking copious amounts of coffee and tea, sharing sweatshirts, discussing books, telling todd all about your love for cats, and creating a really nice communicative atmosphere in your relationship (:

#dead poets society #todd anderson #dps #dps headcanons #todd anderson x reader #angelina writes

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daretosnoop · 3 years

Text

CRY Rewrite Chapter 5: Dr. Bolet’s Secret Study

Been having a lot of fun writing this. Lots of interesting research.

chapter 4

After dinner, Nancy got a call from Bess. She had gone to Zeke’s and met a man named Lamont Warrick. The paper Nancy had given her had the receipt number on it, and when Bess asked Lamont who belonged to 21-3872, Lamont had told her it was belonged to a Henry Bolet who came in with a large box of assorted goods.

“And when I tried to ask what was in the box, Lamont got really vague and said I was not allowed to know and that he didn’t want to make trouble for anyone. But that didn’t stop me! I snuck into the backroom and went through the box and you will not believe what I found”.

“Tell me,” Nancy urged.

“Well, there was a picture of a young Bruno with his dog. Then there was this weird box and when I opened it, there was a letter inside. It was addressed to Bruno Bolet from a T.W. Cladwell authorizing the sell of, get this, a skull called the Whisperer”.

The Whisperer? That was the same name in professor Hotchkiss’s book! “What else did the letter say?” Nancy asked.

“Well, Bruno was asked to respect its power and that in doing, the skull often undoes”.

“In doing, it undoes?”

“Ya, I know, makes no sense, but that’s not all Nancy. The box the letter was in had a skull-like indent! And and, Nancy, along with the other items Henry sold, there was also a costume”.

“A costume,” Nancy breathed the words heavily.

“A skull man costume,” Bess emphasized. “I took pictures of everything and sent it to you”.

The gears started to turn in Nancy’s head. Things were starting to fall into place. She was sure Henry had sold that box for quick cash, but was he also the skeleton man? Then again, Renee said she was missing some things. And this Whisperer skull, was it what Bruno Bolet was trying to hide? She almost got lost in her thoughts when she heard Bess’s frantic voice.

“Still here Bess, what else you got?”

“Nancy, I also found out that Lamont sells Hoodoo products”.

“Hoodoo?”

“Yep. Dabbled around in them. Those things really work. He also said that Renee Amande comes in regularly for Hoodoo products”.

“Was there a knock-out, sleeping powder,” Nancy asked, her voice brimming with excitement.

“No, I even asked. Lamont said he doesn’t sell high-end Hoodoo products. It can create trouble with the law apparently”.

“Not even any, on the sly, business?”

“Doesn’t seem like it, though I wouldn’t know how to check”.

Nancy thanked Bess for her discoveries. “One more thing,” she asked. “How did you get into the back room?”

“Oh you know,” Bess said in a chuffed voice. “Just set up a Rube Goldberg to throw sneezing powder at Lamont”.

“Bess, you clever conniving sneak,” Nancy exclaimed.

Bess laughed, “Learned from the best. By the way, I asked the chef at Granny’s and he said the Dr. Buford does come by nearly every day. It’s raining now, but if he comes, I’ll head on down and talk to him”.

“Thank you Bess, you’re a treasure”.

“I know”.

Before Nancy could get to the spider locked door, her phone rang again. Picking it up she heard professor Hotchkiss’s voice.

“Is this Nancy Drew?”

“Yes, and you are professor Hotchkiss”.

“Yes, I am she. Your name does sound familiar dear, do I know you from somewhere? Were you perhaps the young woman who gave me a cheese platter at the cheese factory?”

Nancy grinned. “No. No. We stayed together in a hotel in Wisconsin, remember? Wickford Castle?”

“Nonsense!” Hotchkiss exclaimed, “There was no cheese factory in Wickford Castle. Though I do remember there being a spunky maid there”.

“Yes, professor, that maid was me. I found an old journal of Marie Antoinette and you translated it and wrote a bestseller on it?

“No, no can’t remember Mandy. Now I’ve only got cheese on my mind. Oh dear. Well, you called about some best seller I wrote? Is it the one about Marie Antoinette? I am a scholar of French history, so I can help you there. Most of my work was done in thanks to that spunky maid who assisted me in the witching hours, you know”.

“Really?” Nancy asked sarcastically.

“Yes, now chop chop dear. I’m on a deadline. What is it you need to know?”

“Did a man named Bruno Bolet ever call you?”

“Indeed he did, Oui Oui. What a name. So French,” Hotchkiss sighed.

“Why did he call you?”

“Because he read my book, The Crystal Skull: Fact or Fable. Sold like hotcakes, you know”.

“Did he mention anything about owning a skull?”

“Ooh, I would have hung up on him if he did, Brandy! If I had a dollar for every crackpot whose read my book and called claiming to have an authentic skull, I’d be able to live like Marie Antoinette, or at least dine daily in New York’s Russian Tea Room. No… Bruno Bolet was a scholar, if a budding one. He wanted to know about the Whisperer and if I learned anything more since I wrote the book—which I hadn’t. Or if I had a new theory on it— which I didn’t”.

Disappointment filled Nancy. “That’s it? That’s all you talked about?”

“Oh such curiosity you have. So familiar, like that maid at Wickford. Shame I can’t remember her name. Oh wait a minute,” Hotchkiss suddenly exclaimed, “The Eyes have it!”

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked Bruno Bolet what his theory was and he just chuckled and said the eyes have it, and then hung up”.

Is it the same eye as the eye of the beholder?

“Professor, is this skull worth a lot?”

“In this day and age? No telling. Half a million? Two million? Who knows? Ch-ching! Ch-ching!”

“But how would they be able to authenticate the skull?”

“Good question Francie! Remember, the real skulls were made long before the tools commonly used for carving today were invented. So, let’s put on our thinking caps….”

“Modern day tools would have left marks if the skull was a fake?”

“Absolutely! Though mind you, the marks left by modern instruments can only be detected in a research lab. Our tired eyes cannot catch such impressions”

“You can’t use carbon-dating?”

“No Mandy. What is crystal? Quartz. What is Quartz? Silicon dioxide. No carbon. No carbon means no carbon dating”.

So you can only prove it’s real by proving it’s not a fake. Nancy fished out the envelope she found in the bin. Looks like Bruno Bolet might have done just that.

“And what about the rumors? The theory that the Whisperer can make its owner immortal? Do you really believe in that?”

“My dear Nessie, I believe that things that defy any so-called ‘rational’ explanations happen all the time. Now does that mean there are mysterious external forces at work in the universe of which we do not and cannot ever have full knowledge? Or does it all boil down to us? If the human heart desperately wants something to be true, does the human mind have the power to make it true? Who knows?” Professor Hotchkiss sighed, “Ah, questions, questions, questions, Oh, how dreary life would be without them!”

Nancy agreed with professor Hotchkiss. Life truly was dull when all the questions got answered by someone else. Though she did find it hard to believe that eternal forces really did exist. Even this Whisperer was hard to digest. How could such a death-defying object exist? She asked Hotchkiss, “In your book you said that all the people who’ve ever owned the Whisperer were murdered, yet Bruno Bolet died of a heart attack. How do you explain that?”

“Are you saying the Whisperer was in his possession after all? The scalawag!” Hotchkiss exclaimed. “Why didn’t he tell me? Oh that’s right—I would’ve hung up on him”. Hotchkiss thought over it for a moment, then slowly said, “Well if that’s the case, then I strongly suggest you take a close look at his so-called ‘heart attack’ Sandy. Because if he owned the skull and he died, I guarantee you – it was at the hands of someone else. I’m willing to bet my name on that!”

Nancy thanked Hotchkiss then sorted through everything she had learned. So much was now being called into question, but first thing first, if that skull really did exist, was it behind the locked door? There was only one way to find out.

Slipping downstairs, Nancy did not find Henry or Renee. She opened the secret door and slipped up the stairs to the locked door. Taking the bronze key, she took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and opened it to find a dusty mess of a study room.

There were all sorts of odds and ends inside this second study room. In one corner there was a skee-ball style game. On one wall there stood a cupboard all by itself. In front of Nancy there was a desk with books and papers. Connected to the desk was a ramp leading to an open duct. In front of the ramp there was a chair with a marionette pirate puppet. Bruno Bolet, where have you taken me?

Nancy did not know where to start searching. There was so much stuff. She headed towards the desk and found a calendar agenda and a piece of paper. She flipped through the calendar. Each month had a date marked with a skull and crossbones and the notes had odd names. She kept flipping till she came to the month of May. The thirty-first was marked with a skull and crossbones and the notes read, ‘Scuttled bones, Rampart and Dumaine”. A meeting spot? That’s in four days!

Nancy picked up the paper. It was an honorary celebration of initiation into the Jolly Rodger krewe of New Orleans. The paper reminded him of his oath to silence about the group and gave him an associate and sponsor— Mr. Gilbert Buford. Nancy put the paper down. Was, was she right? Was Dr. Bolet part of some cult? Whatever he was a part of, it looked like Dr. Buford was also involved. She then spotted a faded and worn journal and picked it up. Short Stories for Tired Eyes by Bruno Bolet. It was dedicated to those who heard the Whisperer. Nancy flipped to the first page and started to read.

My dear Henry. I write this out of guilt and urgency. If you are reading this, it means our family, the Bolet family now solely sits on your shoulders. It’s a big pressure and I am well aware I have done nothing to prepare you for this. This book is an attempt and a plea to listen to my words. Henry, it’s time you know about the Bolet name and responsibility.

The Bolet family is not just eccentric in nature, but in purpose too. Many of our members have had a connection to the Earth that extends the mortal plane. They can hear the voices of those long gone. No, I am not pulling your leg. No one really knows why our family has this ability, though many joke it’s because some ancient relative couldn’t keep their curiosity at bay and now our family is cursed with this ability. I suppose it’s not all that bad. It’s helped us financially, and it is nice to have some say in how our city is planned. However, this ability appears in family members randomly. Every generation has it, but as too whom, well, it’s hard to say. When it appears is also hard to say. It just does, apparently.

I do not have this trait, and I have no idea if you have this trait either. But seeing as you are the next generation, I’m guessing you do. I assume it must be scary, at least, remembering how your father soiled his pants the first time it happened. That’s right Henry, your father had this ability. My mother had it, and according to Bolet tradition, the one who has this trait must inherit the manor because they carry the responsibility of hearing the spirit’s voices. It’s an exhausting burden. I’d often see your grandmother and father exhausted and on the point of collapse.

I don’t know how to guide you should you have these whisperers haunt you. It’s never, I never thought it would be something I’d have to teach you. That was your father’s ….

The rest had been scribbled out. A few pages later, Dr. Bolet continued.

Make of it what you will Henry, but know that I am telling you the truth here. If you have this ability, the whisperers will not go away. They do listen to you, but you need to listen to them too, otherwise….

Bruno Bolet did not complete the sentence. Nancy noticed that some pages had been torn out before Bruno continued.

Henry, the skull will help you! Find it, it will transfer the knowledge you need! Look for the eyes, they are the key. Find all 25. Put them in the cupboard. They will take you to the skull.

Following Bruno Bolet’s last words were pages detailing what looked to be locks that, Nancy assumed, held these eyes. After reading the entire journal again Nancy had to sit down. She was right, Bruno Bolet was hiding the Whisperer skull. She didn’t know why, but she was sure now that the skull man was looking for the skull too. Why else would he have initiated the steps she now completed? But that would mean Henry isn’t the skeleton man. And this crystal skull, why would Bruno want to give it to Henry? What knowledge transfer was he talking about? First it was an immortal skull. Now it was a knowledge containing skull. What was going on? More importantly, Bruno had just confirmed to Nancy that paranormal powers apparently existed.

Nancy looked around the desk, forlorn. She noticed a picture of a man being greeted by three skeleton people. The picture had an inscription, Dr. Bolet’s inauguration into the Jolly Roger krewe. Nancy peered harder and dropped the journal onto the table. Everyone was wearing a costume similar to the skull man she saw at the entrance! Holding the picture in one hand, Nancy looked around the desk and noticed an old paper. She picked it up and read.

On this day November 8th, 1952

The Jolly Roger Krewe of New Orleans hear by invites Dr. Bruno Sinclair Bolet to join its hallowed ranks.

Speak of this to no one except the man who has championed you and will, should you accept this invitation, serve as your sponsor during the initiation process, Dr. Gilbert Buford.

Dr. Buford? Was Dr. Buford the skull man? But why? Everything felt like a farce. No wonder this secret was kept within the Bolet family because good god, who would believe this rubbish? Nancy supposed there was one good thing about all this, it wasn’t her problem to deal with.

She stood up and began to search for a way out. The door she entered from, curiously, only opened one way. She had to look for another exit. In the right-hand corner she noticed, amidst, the clutter, a candle holder that was attached to the wall. The candles were not lit and even looked fake. Nancy went over and felt the candle stick. It was metal. She grabbed it and pulled. The candle bent forward with ease and the wall behind the candle holder opened up. Another secret door. Nancy stepped through the door and saw Henry staring back at her open-mouthed.

#nancy drew #henry bolet #CRY #legend of the crystal skull

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olliepig · 3 years

Text

Scott-land Yard

So, as everyone knows, it was our wonderful Scott’s birthday yesterday. In honour of that fact, the amazing @willow-salix and I got together and this was the outcome.

It’s also available on AO3 here.

******

“Smile!” Gordon chirped as he and Scott posed for the camera that had been thrust in their faces. John managed something that looked more like a trapped wind grimace and resisted the urge to hide behind Scott.

“I hate this,” John whined. He'd deny it, but it was definitely a whine.

“You hate everything,” Gordon shot back, pausing and shifting to a new pose after only three steps when another passer-by spotted them and requested a picture.

“I do not, I just hate going anywhere public because it’s always like this,” he lifted a hand to shield his eyes as another flash almost blinded him.

“We’re International Rescue,” Scott reminded him. “It’s part of the territory.”

“Yes, because that’s the only reason they’re popping up like meerkats to invade my personal bubble.”

“What else could it be?” Gordon asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” John replied, sarcasm dripping from his lips. “It’s definitely not got anything to do with the fact that we’re dressed like we just fell out of a Jane Austin novel.”

“I think we look good,” Gordon argued, tugging his jacket back into place and smoothing it down.

“We do, quite dashing,” Scott grinned, preening for another picture.

“I think we look like idiots.”

“This is going to be a fun night,” Gordon sighed as they reached the door of the pub appropriately named ‘The Moody Cow’.

“Happy birthday to me,” Scott rolled his eyes, shoving his protesting brother inside.

Looking around the inside did not instil John with more confidence.

“This has to be at least six health code violations.”

“Just six?” Scott quipped.

“I was talking about the front door.”

“Oh stop complaining so much,” Gordon chided him, taking in the sawdust floor and wobbly looking tables. “I think it’s charming.”

“Exactly,” Scott agreed, making a beeline for the bar and ordering three beers. “If this is what the girls have planned, then who are we to argue?”

“I don’t know what their plans are,” grumbled John, reluctantly following his brothers into the bar, “but based on this, I do know I don’t trust either of them.”

“You might have a point there,” Scott conceded, as he waited for their drinks. “We’ve all seen what happens when we leave those two unsupervised, and according to Cat they’ve been planning this for months.”

“We’re doomed,” John groaned, taking an experimental sip of the beer he’d just been passed. “There’s no hope for us.”

“What even is this?” Gordon asked, making a face as he sipped whatever pigs swill had been glassed up and handed over to them. “It’s disgusting.”

“It’s traditional, I believe,” John said, taking another cautious swig of his own, unable to decide if he liked it or not.

“Well I like it,” Scott declared, taking a big gulp of his own drink and looking around for a table.

“What is this?” John asked the barman, who fished a bottle out from under the bar, showing him the label. It turned out to be from an historical brewery that specialised in archeological brewing, with recipes taken from old texts and replicated. John raised an eyebrow briefly in what might possibly, somewhere in the outer reaches of space, be considered as appreciation, not that he’d ever admit that, before handing back the bottle and taking his seat with his brothers.

“What time did the girls say they’d get here?” Gordon asked.

“About now I think,” Scott replied, looking at his watch before fixing his eyes on the door in the hope of seeing someone who wasn’t one of his brothers. It wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time with them, but he had been promised a fun night out with some kind of activity that involved great secrecy and costumes, and he was very keen to find out what it was.

“They’re late,” John sniffed. “I’m not in the least surprised.”

“Since when has Selene been on time for anything?” Gordon laughed. “I’d have thought you’d have stopped complaining about it by now.”

“John? Not taking the opportunity to complain? Never!” Scott jested, giving John a friendly nudge.

John scowled in response. “I am perfectly aware of her way of doing things. I’ve learnt to accept it, but that does not mean I agree with it. Also, I do not complain, I state facts.”

“Can we leave him at home next time?” Gordon asked.

“Yes, please do,” John agreed, sounding far too eager.

“No, it’s my birthday and I want you here,” Scott declared. “Plus I’m not dealing with the girls on my own, this is supposed to be a celebration not torture.”

Before John could open his mouth to reply, their attention was grabbed by a door at the back of the room swinging open, revealing both Selene and Cat dressed as what could only be described as Victorian hookers.

“Oh god,” Scott choked as Cat sashayed towards him, swinging her hips as she went.

“I dread to think what this is about,” John sighed when his own woman reached his side, trying very hard not to lose an eyeball in her cleavage.

“Well hello there, birthday boy,” Cat breathed, sliding herself onto Scott’s lap with a wiggle that made him groan quietly as she slung an arm around his shoulder and placed a small kiss of his cheek.

“This is new,” John observed, skimming a fingertip down the laces of the corset he’d definitely not seen before. “I’d ask what the occasion was but you never need an excuse to go shopping.”

“I feel very left out,” Gordon bitched, his eyes still fixed on the door as if staring at it would reveal his date for the night.

“Is Penny not here yet?” Cat asked, looking up in shock as she finally tore her eyes away from Scott and realised that one member of their party was indeed missing. “I thought she’d have got here ages ago.”

Selene, who had been surprisingly quiet the whole time, now perched herself on John’s lap and lifted an arm to get the attention of the barman.

“You,” she called loudly in a demanding tone. “Da, you, you bring me vodka, big glass.”

“That’s new too,” Gordon laughed, hearing a very strange accent coming out of her previously quite common London mouth.

Selene took the glass with a nod of thanks and downed half its contents in one, slamming it down on the table, before spearing Cat with a warning look. “Nyet, remember what grandmudder say, they pay for grind or get nothing at all.”

“Da, but she also say need to show something to bring them in,” Cat retorted, her face reddening slightly as her awful attempt at a Russian accent grated in her ears.

“Minushka, she say, you show one apple, not whole basket of fruit,” Selene gave a little hip swivel that made John choke on his fancy beer in demonstration then got to her feet, avoiding his attempt to keep her on his lap and his dignity intact. “Like so.”

“And I’ve shown apple,” Cat replied, sliding herself up Scott as she stood, feeling his eyes tracking her every move. “Now he want whole basket.”

“Whole basket is extra,” Selene nodded. “We take to rooms now, da?”

“I can’t even pretend to know what’s going on here,” Scott cut in, clearing his throat and grabbing Cat by the waist, enjoying her shriek as he pulled her back down onto his lap. “But it’s my birthday and I’m very happy with having this ‘basket’ right here, thank you very much.”

He fixed Selene with a stare, daring her to deny him on his special night. Smiling in triumph as she huffed dramatically and looked away, allowing it for now, it was his birthday after all. Risking her wrath further, he placed a quick kiss on Cat's neck before continuing. “Anyway, shouldn’t we wait for Penny before we go anywhere?”

Selene rolled her eyes in Cat’s direction, clearly throwing her under the bus for her best friend being late. “Staff, you cannot get them.”

John’s hand took it upon itself to reach out and tweak the edge of the bustle pad type thing that was giving his woman a backside you could balance a tea tray on, unable to ignore it.

Just as Selene turned to admonish him for touching something he might not be able to afford, the main door to the bar opened and Penny swept in, looking every inch the Lady that she was. Dressed impeccably in what looked to be an original evening gown from the period, her eyes registered her shock at the low cut chemises, corsets and shortened ruffled bustle style skirts that adorned the other two women present.

“Did you not send her the brief?” Selene whispered to Cat, dropping the fake Russian accent she had adopted for a moment.

“Of course I did,” Cat hissed back. “But you know she likes to do things her way. I guess she just decided she knew better.”

“Then I guess that means we have a classy prostitute that’s just joined the ranks, best we got,” Selene whispered back.

“It sure does,” Cat shrugged. “We can make it work.”

“Not like we’ve got a choice,” Selene gripped her corset and hoiked it up, wiggling her boobs back into place then turned back to the boys. “Gentlemen, it is time, we have you now.”

“Is that supposed to be a romantic offer?” John asked, although he didn’t hesitate to offer his hand so she could drag him to his feet.

“In Russia we do not do the romance, we just do the bonk,” she told him, making Scott splutter with laughter. “We have not time for making nice. Time is money, friend.”

Penelope shot her fellow females a look of utter bewilderment with a dash of disdain but gamely moved to join them, running a judgemental eye around the bar and its less than pristine flooring. “I should not have worn great great great great Aunt Mildred’s debutant gown.”

“Yeah, probably not your greatest idea,” Cat laughed, giving her a quick hug in greeting before slipping her hand into Scott’s, giving it an affectionate squeeze as she led the way towards the door at the back of the room.

“What kept you?” Gordon asked, sidling up to Penelope in the hopes of stealing a quick kiss. Much as he loved his brothers partners it sucked to be playing the part of the third wheel. Penelope offered him her cheek, conscious of her perfectly applied lipstick, she might be completely over dressed and apparently out of character and her depth, but she was not about to let that stop her.

“I got held up at the Bureau, they’ve decided that everyone, regardless of experience or seniority, must now have a partner,” she snorted in disgust at the very thought that she might be counted among that number. My new recruit leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Sounds like a bad day,” Gordon winced sympathetically. “But you’re here now, so at least you can kick back, relax and have fun with us.”

Selene threw open the door and started climbing the stairs, stopping them all in a dark, dingy hallway which led off to more doors.

“I guess we’ll see about that,” Penelope huffed, catching the lacy edge of her skirt on a nail that stuck out from a door frame.

“Money first, no kiss, no taking home to mudder,” Selene called out, laying down the rules. “Catya! Penya! Ladies to your jobs.”

Cat grabbed Penny by the hand and towed her forwards to the front of their little huddle.

Selene shoved a door open and walked in two steps before stopping and letting out the longest, loudest and most dramatic scream she possessed, the one reserved purely for kilt shots of sexy heroes or cute animals.

“Holy hell!” Scott yelped, having been directly behind her and therefore deafened the most.

“No,” Cat shrieked, throwing herself over the mannequin splayed out on the floor, using all the acting skills she possessed as Selene and Penelope tried to pull her back up again. “Anna!”

“What on earth is going on here?” Gordon asked, completely lost at the turn of events that the evening had taken.

“You not know?” Selene sobbed dramatically, burying her face in John’s neck to hide the fact that she was still dry eyed as she huddled against his side. “You are in Whitechapel and you know not of the murders? Are you not detectives sent to save us?”

“Ah, I see,” Scott declared triumphantly, feeling rather smug that he’d worked it out before anyone else. “It’s some kind of murder mystery thing.”

“I see nothing!” Gordon whined. “Someone explain, please?”

“What you mean ‘murder mystery’?” Cat sniffed as she looked pleadingly up at Scott, finding it very hard to keep a straight face. “This our friend. You help us please? We not want to be next victim.”

“You help, we pay with kind, da?” Selene did some weird kind of boob shimmy that almost popped the twins right out of the corset that was barely holding them in as it was. John resisted the urge to throw his jacket over her head and drag her away right there and then before she lost every last ounce of dignity she possessed. He was right, they could not be trusted to be left alone to plan anything.

“Well, if that’s what’s at stake, then I think we’d better help the ladies, hadn’t we?” Scott asked, trying very hard to tear his eyes away from Cat’s behind as she crouched back down over the body on the floor.

“Let me make sure I understand this,” Penelope started. “You told me that we would be playing some kind of escape room scenarios and that we had to dress the part, at no point did you tell me that I was supposed to act as a braindead lady of ill repute.”

“Women no work for police,” Selene told her. “Women have but one job, to please man.”

“Women cannot work for the police? There to please men? I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous!” Penelope gasped, utterly horrified at the way her friends were apparently happy to set women's liberation back a few centuries. “Now let me tell you somethin-”

“C’mon Penny,” Gordon bravely interrupted her, gently taking her hand and pulling her away from the main group slightly as the others all exchanged worried glances, wondering how this would play out. “It’s just a bit of fun for Scott’s birthday. Nobody means any harm by it.”

“That may be so,” Penelope sniffed, “but I still wish someone had told me in advance.”

“We did,” Selene reminded her, dropping her fake accent for a moment. “We sent you the package with the historical notes and details, it’s not our fault you didn’t read them.”

“And it’s not my fault I didn’t have time!” Penny shot back, her eyes meeting Selene’s in a challenge that nobody wanted to see the outcome of.

Selene’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Gordon took a step closer in case he needed to dive in between them to act as a human shield, but she seemed to think better of it, obviously caring more about the reason they were there, that being her best friend's birthday.

“Well if you’re really not comfortable then nobody is going to force you to do it, Penny,” Gordon continued, trying desperately to keep the peace and allow the night to go ahead more or less as planned. “Tell you what, if we need to keep the numbers equal, why don’t I take your role and you can do mine?”

“Yes, that would do very nicely, thank you,” Penelope replied, brightening instantly and placing a small kiss of thanks on Gordon’s cheek before moving to stand with Scott and John.

John had been wandering the room, taking in everything there was to see, but now his eyes strayed from the crime scene to catch Selene’s, one eyebrow lifting in question. She shrugged in return, she had no clue what was going on either.

“So how does this work then?” Scott asked, trying to move away from the slight awkwardness that seemed to have sprung up in the room.

“How this work?” Cat repeated, trying to hide the smirk of amusement that Scott was finally bamboozled by something from showing. “You police. You investigate scene, go back to police station. Find who did it.”

“Examining body is usually good place to start,” Selene nodded, slipping back into character. “It has been so long since last victim, we thought him gone.”

“We try to help,” Cat added, gesturing to Selene and Gordon. “Can ask us questions. We might know answers, might not. But you not know if not ask us.”

“Anna, rest her soul,” Selene did a wonky cross over her chest and closed her eyes, bowing her head respectfully. “She was good to her mudder, she had three children. They were life. Now she will not have beets to feed her family, for she has been so slain.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” John whispered to her, unable to help the small smile that formed.

“Oh, you know you want me to bring this accent home tonight,” she whispered back, trying not to lose character too much. “You are clever detective, with big,” she looked him up and down seductively, eyes lingering just a second too long below his belt, “brain. You help and I reward, da?”

“John,” Scott called, managing to gain John's attention before his brother's brain short circuited. “We need a game plan here.”

“I’d try reading that note first,” John suggested lightly, pointing at the slip of paper that was half hidden under the victim’s bloody torso.

“Well, sure, if you want to go for the obvious option,” Scott shrugged as if he’d known the note was there the whole time. John and Gordon were not fooled.

Scott bent down to retrieve the blood splattered letter, noting there were fingerprints on it.

“Did you really think I was gone?” he read aloud. “My victims are many in number and miles apart, but now I am back in my original hunting ground and embarking on a series of murders worse than the last. And this time I’m upping the stakes. You almost caught me the first time but you did not succeed. Now you have no choice, find me or I will come for you next. Signed, Jack.”

“Well, that is rather distressing,” Penelope commented. “Based on that note, along with the location and time period, it sounds like Jack the Ripper has made another appearance.”

“Da,” Selene nodded, sidling closer to John to hang off his arm in what she hoped looked to be a suitably terrified way while still rubbing herself against him like an over friendly cat. “It is not safe for us to be on streets. We are honest working girls-”

“Ahem,” Gordon interrupted, clearing his throat and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I swapped with Penny, remember?”

“Honest working people,” Selene corrected herself. “All we do is the sex.”

“You needn't sound so proud of it,” Penelope sniffed, leaning over the body to examine it. “There appears to be a number of wounds to her body, all of which look to be consistent with a stabbing and slashing motion made with a knife, if my memory serves that is correct for the setting.”

“This is not game,” Selene snapped, her temper flaring just a little. They all had their roles to play and Penelope was not taking it seriously enough. The escape room usually had actors that fulfilled the roles that she, Cat and apparently now, Gordon, were playing, but she and Cat had decided that that would likely mean they had too many detectives and would reduce both the fun and the time they would be in the rooms. They had paid extra to hire the whole of the establishment for two hours and to take on the roles themselves to increase the fun. They had spent days researching, learning their lines and brushing up on the details of the case, now it seemed that, not only had Penny neglected to do her homework, she was reluctant to play along.

“A lady detective, I think that’s a bit of alright, I do,” Gordon leered in an attempt to defuse the situation, sounding like a mix of Parker and a bad Dick Van Dyke, Mary Poppins accent.

Cat sniggered to herself, clearing her throat and assuming her character once again when Scott glanced at her.

“Find anything interesting, detective,” she drawled, swanning over to Scott in an attempt to distract him from his mission.

John rolled his eyes, moving to join Penelope at the scene of the crime, although he had to drag Selene with him as she still clung to his arm. “Pass me that camera, will you?”

Selene handed him an old fashioned camera that looked exactly like a victorian era piece but it had been updated with some kind of polaroid technology so that a picture was printed out of it almost instantly in period accurate sepia.

“Huh, that’s actually quite clever,” John reluctantly admitted as he snapped a few shots and collected the photos that came out, handing them to Scott for him to examine. “Penelope, can you bag up anything that you think could be evidence?”

“I’m a little busy here, John,” Penelope answered, already rummaging in the murdered dummy’s clothes.

Scott picked up the slack and took the leather bag that Cat handed him, taking a bag out of it to pick up anything that John might consider evidence. He picked up a key from the ground beside the victim, while John took a photo of a bloody boot print and then laid a piece of paper from the detectives bag over it to make a copy of it.

Selene took it upon herself to delve into the bag too and emerged triumphant, an old fashioned pair of handcuffs dangling from her fingers. She twirled them for a moment, whistling to get John’s attention, then attached them to her belt.

“For later, you will pay extra,” she informed him, blowing him a kiss.

“Do I get toys like that?” Scott asked Cat. “It is my birthday, you know.”

“Oh, I’m aware of that,” Cat answered with a wink. “You heard the lady, toys are extra, so you better have brought your big wallet with you.”

“Want to come find out?”

Cat looked him up and down appreciatively. “Is that a grapple gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”

“Locked and loaded.”

“Can you smell something?” Gordon asked Selene, adopting a conversational tone.

“Da," she nodded." Uglichsky.”

“Huh?”

“The english, they call it cheese.”

“Yes, exactly right, something is definitely cheesy around here and I think it’s coming from the birthday boy.”

“Hey!” Scott protested. “Be nice to me, it’s my birthday!”

“And people think he’s the smooth one,” John sighed, shaking his head. “Can we get back to work now?”

Cat, Gordon and Selene shrugged their agreement.

“OK, you can start helping by telling us a bit more about the woman that was murdered and where you were in the hour leading up to the discovery of her body,” Scott suggested, although he soon wished he hadn’t.

What came next was a jumble of gossip of life on the streets, sordid tales of the woman’s past, each more outlandish than the last, a few too many details of her not so private life, some tips on love making in Russia that John was very sure Selene had made up on the spot and enough random information that all three detectives were more confused after than when they had started. Penelope had declared that they had all the information they needed and that they could relax until they were called for.

“Our work here is done,” Cat said, smiling proudly.

“Yeah, but look at them now, being all serious and shit,” Selene replied as she moved to join them, leaving the detectives to do their work.

“I wonder how long it’ll last,” Gordon grinned, lounging against a nearby wall.

“Longer than if you were with them,” Selene sniggered, nudging him gently when he feigned outrage.

Once Scott, John and Penelope had agreed that they had gathered as much evidence as they could from the crime scene, the girls, with Gordon trailing along between them, led the way to the room that housed the police station.

In the room there was a desk, a few chairs and some evidence boxes, along with piles of paperwork and notes. The walls were covered in photographs of the original Jack the Ripper crime scenes, case notes, maps and newspaper articles. There were also autopsy reports, witness statements and artistic renderings of potential suspects.

“Woah, this is actually pretty cool,” Gordon whistled, looking around the room.

“It does seem quite thorough,” John admitted, his eyes taking everything the room had to offer.

“I say we start with the first victim, work our way across the wall and then tackle the desk,” Scott decided, “that way if there is any hidden evidence on the desk we’re more likely to notice it.”

“Agreed,” John said, already calculating ways to catalogue the information they would discover.

“I’d rather start at the desk,” Penny cut in. “One often finds that the first place to look would be the last place someone sat, and they always leave things on desks.”

“Then, by all means,” Scott gave in graciously. “You know best, investigating is your job after all.”

“Scott and I can do the walls while you check the desk and then we can swap if that works for you?” John suggested. “That way we won’t be getting in each other's way.”

“That will do quite nicely,” Penelope smiled, moving to start rummaging through the desk.

“Make sure you don’t tamper with any evidence,” Gordon called cheekily to her, “you’re all supposed to be working together to solve this, not going for solo glory.”

“I’m aware of that, thank you, Gordon,” Penelope huffed, firmly tucking an errant hair behind her ear that had dared escape the meticulously crafted hairstyle that was a perfect replica of a late 18th century style.

“I was just kidding,” Gordon assured her, earning a little smile in return.

Huddled together in a corner with Gordon, Selene and Cat watched as the detectives got to work and congratulated themselves on picking such a unique and fun activity. It was always a bit of a mission to find something to do on any of the boys birthdays. The kind of things that were considered to be once in a lifetime dream opportunities for everyday folk were just a standard Wednesday to their Tracys, so they often had to think outside of the box. Virgil was the next in line and they were already brainstorming, if they left it to any of the brothers they would never leave the island. No, it took their input to get anything done.

“I think we did good,” Cat whispered to Selene as they waited to be called upon as witnesses.

“We did,” Selene agreed. She glanced at Gordon as he bounced about between Scott and John, getting in the way. She couldn't help but smile at his antics, obviously they had expected the boys to be doing the actual detective work and for Penelope to be with them, but they could adapt.

“Has Penny said anything to you?” Selene had to ask, watching the serious way that Penelope was studying a letter she had found in a desk drawer. Their purpose was to both help by answering questions but also to hinder the detectives if they were motoring through the rooms too quickly. The whole experience was supposed to last for at least two hours, giving them time to work up an appetite before they ‘escaped’ and made their way down to the restaurant at the back of the building where they would have a slightly more upmarket atmosphere to eat and drink in.

“Not a thing,” Cat shrugged. “But knowing her as I do, I’m going to assume she had a bad few days at work and is a bit ratty because of it.”

“I guess so,” Selene sighed. “Bit of a shame though, this is Scott’s night and I’ll be pretty pissed off if it ends up being soured because someone is in a foul mood.”

“As would I,” Cat agreed, watching her man as he chatted quietly with John, discussing something they had found.

“They look like they are doing far too well at this,” Selene murmured, nodding at their boys. “I think we need to intervene.”

“You read my mind,” Cat grinned, rearranging her top to show maximum boobs.

“The things we do so they have a good time,” Selene sighed dramatically as she patted her bustled behind. “You know, this thing is kinda growing on me.”

Cat sniggered as they slunk their way over to start annoying to detectives. “Come on, Gordon, do your job.”

“On it,” he saluted, grinning wide.

For the next ten minutes they worked their hardest to distract the detectives with rude tavern songs, a slightly uncoordinated version of the can-can, seductive whispering in their ears and promises of demonstrating the tricks they had learnt on the streets of London.

Hands had to be stopped from sneakily wandering, pieces of evidence had mysteriously vanished only to be found hidden in slightly suggestive places upon their bodies and John had forgotten what he’d been thinking entirely when he’d found himself the recipient of a spontaneous motorboating as he got up close and personal with his girl's chest. Even Penelope had given up on her grumpy mood enough to be jollied into giggling along a few times, that was until the moment that Gordon’s hand came into contact with her behind in a gentle smack.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

"Enticing you into a dalliance, my lady," he grinned, sweeping his barrow boy hat off his head in a mock bow.

"Yes," she hissed, clearly fed up to the back teeth of the antics going in around her. "A lady. Your lady, and one does not smack a lady's bottom in a public place. And you," she pointed a finger of doom at Cat and Selene, "look at you both, look at how you're dressed and acting. It's all well and good playing a role but you're taking it too far, don't you think?"

"How we're dressed?" Selene glanced down at her outfit which, by her standards, was actually pretty normal, although it was in blue and white rather than her usual gothic black. "Should I be insulted?"

Cat just looked shocked, she hadn't thought that their behaviour had been that bad, they had simply been having fun, playing the part. Scott, John and Gordon seemed to be enjoying themselves too. Had she somehow messed up? It was true that she didn't know the family as well as Selene did, since she didn't live with them and was still a relatively part time member, but she had planned this with Selene and was taking her cues from her.

"Oh, come on, Penny, relax a bit, will ya?" Gordon groaned, rolling his eyes.

"I am relaxed," Penelope said, turning back to the wall she was studying.

Scott, who was at the desk studying some papers, caught Gordon's eye, nodding towards Penelope. It was his birthday celebration and he wasn't impressed. Cat and Selene had put a lot of effort into organising it for him and he didn't want their time to be wasted. Cat looked like she was about to cry and Selene looked like she was about to curse something or someone. Much as Scott knew that Gordon hadn't meant anything by his actions or comments, he had simply been joining in after all, it was obvious that something was bothering Penelope and it needed fixing.

Gordon nodded his understanding and moved towards his girl. His arm slipped around her waist and, while she stiffened at first, after a few whispered words she relaxed, allowing herself to lean closer to him for a moment before she shook him off.

"Stop trying to distract me, I'm trying to concentrate."

"It's my job to distract you," Gordon teased gently but it did little good.

"And I'm trying to do my job, so kindly let me do it."

"Dang, and I thought Tracys were competitive," Selene whistled, trying to defuse the tension. "OK, let's do this, boys against girls, screw the rules, you in?"

"I'm so in," Cat agreed, "who says prostitutes can't work with the law?"

The object of the escape room was to find enough evidence to point to a particular suspect that had been chosen by the escape room organisers. Almost like a game of Cluedo where there was a different murderer, room and weapon every time, the escape room team cycled through five of the most well known suspects of the original case. There was no telling which they had picked this time so the girls did their best to help Penelope as she worked to put together all the clues she had found.

Selene had spent a fair amount of time with Penelope, enough to feel like she knew the other woman quite well, but she realised now that she only knew one facet of her personality. Their interactions had mostly been on a casual, socialising level because, although Selene did work with the GDF on a freelance basis now and then working anywhere she was needed, she mostly found herself teamed with Kayo or Rigby. She told herself that this was because she was just that damned handy that they only put her with the best, she refused to acknowledge the fact that they were likely the only ones no longer scared of her. That wasn't it at all.

So, somehow she had managed to spend more than three years in the family and never had the opportunity to watch the Lady at work, now she was kinda glad that she hadn't.

Penelope was very much like John in the fact that when she had a goal in sight she was very bloody minded. She knew what she needed to do and she refused to let anything stop her. Selene tried three times to offer suggestions or to point out what looked like it might be an interesting piece of evidence only to be told, politely but firmly, that she was very wrong. Never one to waste her time flogging a dead horse she passed the baton over to Cat, tapped out with a fist bump and switched allegiance without a shred or remorse or a backwards glance.

"I'm out! You're on your own," she declared, defecting to the enemy camp, announcing her presence with a sneaky grope of John's behind where he was bent over the desk, Scott still in possession of the only chair.

Cat watched her friend go, unable to blame her. She had had the dubious honour of calling Penelope her best friend for more than half her life but that didn't make her any easier to deal with when she was in one of her moods.

A focused Penny was often a snappy Penny, the severity of which Cat had forgotten after years of not working with her on anything like a professional basis. Penelope, much like anyone that came from a privileged background, was used to getting her own way and having things done to their exact specifications. When you worked alone as much as she did, you often forgot that there were other ways of doing things other than your own.

Cat was well aware that just having Parker for back up had done very little to soften Penelope's edges, in fact it seemed to have sharpened them. Oh, she couldn't deny that her friend was excellent at her job, top of her field and still climbing, but that left her little time to waste on those that would potentially hold her back. She was of the mind that if there was someone considered better than you, that simply meant you had more to prove and harder work to do. You didn't stop until you had no one to surpass.

“What’ve we still got to do then?” Cat asked, knowing better than to just dive in and inadvertently mess with whatever strategy Penny was using to solve the mystery.

“You can look at those if you want,” Penny replied curtly, nodding towards a series of pictures beside her, her focus still on the paper in her hand.

Cat sighed as she picked up the pictures, managing not to recoil at the murder scenes depicted on them, as she desperately tried to work out the best way to talk to her friend. It wasn’t unknown for Penny to be prickly and difficult when things didn’t go her way, and it was something that they had fallen out about in the past, but she hadn’t expected her to behave like this at a birthday event for her boyfriend's brother.

“Penny, what's going on with you tonight?” Cat asked, deciding that the direct approach was likeliest to be successful. If experience had taught her anything, it was that Penny was far too good at evading questions and hints if they didn’t suit her.

“Nothing,” Penny dismissed, her eyes still firmly on the job at hand.

“Don’t start that bullshit with me,” Cat replied quietly but firmly, enjoying the look of shock in Penny’s eyes as they flew up to meet hers, clearly not expecting to be challenged. “I know you far too well for your own good and this isn’t like you.”

“What do you mean?” Penny deflected, trying to buy herself time, not liking the anger in Cat’s eyes but doubling down anyway. “I’m here aren’t I? I dressed up just like you asked and I’m even doing your little puzzles.”

“That’s not what I mean and well you know it,” Cat pressed, unimpressed but not surprised by the attempted diversion. “Yeah, you’re here, but you’re acting like you’d rather be literally anywhere else and I’m gonna need you to stop it before it ruins the night for Scott.”

Penny paused for a second, casting a glance around the room to ensure that nobody was in earshot before leaning in to Cat.

“If you must know, I’ve been feeling sick on and off for the last few days, so yes, I probably would rather be anywhere but here if I’m being honest,” she confided, feeling strangely glad to have unburdened herself on her friend.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry to hear that,” Cat sympathised, concern for her friend’s health diluting her anger somewhat. “Do you think you’ve caught something?”

“Perhaps,” Penny replied stiffly, sitting herself back upright again, clearly not wanting to discuss it further.

“You look after yourself tonight, OK?” Cat pressed, not wanting to let the opportunity go. “But can you tone down the grumpiness a little? It’s Scott’s birthday night and we’ve put a lot of work into organising this.”

Taking Penny’s curt nod as an acknowledgement of what she had asked, Cat decided that she had done what she could for the time being. Looking around the room before getting back to her assigned task, she was glad to see that Scott at least seemed to be enjoying himself, absorbed in conversation with his brothers as Selene hovered nearby in case she was needed. Throwing a quick nod to her partner in crime in confirmation that she had tried her best, she reluctantly picked up the pictures again and began scanning them for clues.

Selene had little to do but watch the two teams, content to stay out of the way for the most part. Gordon had slotted back in with his brothers as he always did, the boys working together seamlessly to get the job done, focused now on their end goal.

John had all the relevant information correlated and they had moved onto the floor to spread out their findings. Talking together in hushed voices they were soon busily discussing their theories, expanding on or rejecting as needed until they had narrowed down their suspects to just two.

They held one last, whispered conversation, huddling together even closer when Cat wandered a little too close to their workspace and made their decision.

"So, we're in agreement?" Scott asked.

"Yep," Gordon clarified, John nodding with him.

"Even though I'm the IT guy, I'll allow you to input it, since it's your birthday," John grinned, carefully folding the piece of paper in which they had scribbled their conclusion and passing it to Scott.

"How generous of you," Scott quipped. Taking the paper he crossed over to the old fashioned typewriter that had been set up on the desk.

"What are you doing?" Cat asked suspiciously, "you can't be done already."

"Oh, I think you'll find that I am," Scott replied with a cheeky grin as he started typing out their answer. The typewriter had been modernised so that anything typed on it would be automatically transmitted to the central computer that controlled the escape room, the one that would either release them, or condemn them to try again.

"You don't normally say that so proudly," Cat shot back, making Gordon howl with laughter.

Scott ignored her to continue typing. He finished the last word, hit return and waited.

Somewhere in the hall a buzzer sounded, along with the unmistakable sound of a door unlocking.

“Is that it? Did we do it?” Gordon asked, almost bouncing with excitement.

John stuck his head out into the hallway, ducking back in a second later.

“Gentlemen, we are victorious,” he announced in as serious a tone as he could muster.

“They won?” Penelope glanced at Cat, a look of utter disbelief on her face. Cat shrugged in return. She didn’t really care who won as long as Scott had a good time. "They beat us?"

“Yes!” Scott cheered, high fiving Gordon. “Team Tracy for the win! What’s our prize?”

“I don’t know about you, but I quite like the look of our helpers,” John grinned, sliding an arm around Selene’s waist to pull her in against his side. “Doesn’t the hero always get the girl?”

“Only if he have coin,” Selene shot back, yelping when his hand bounced off her padded backside. “But in this case, I shall make exception. We call it taste test, da?”

“Now I know how Julia Roberts felt in Pretty Woman,” Gordon grinned cheekily. “Here I am, turning cheap tricks on the street and I’ve nabbed myself a real Lady. Personally, I think we all lucked out.”

“Is that so?” Penelope drawled, but she allowed a small smile to flirt with her lips, one that got larger when Gordon followed his announcement up with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. “You are impossible.”

“So they all say,” Gordon agreed, offering her his arm. “My lady?”

“Good, sir,” she acknowledged, slipping her arm through his with an accepting nod of her head.

“I’d certainly be very happy to accept our helpers as a prize,” Scott laughed, pulling Cat towards him and placing a quick kiss on her forehead. “Now, anyone got any idea of what happens next?”

Just as he spoke, a member of the escape room staff poked their head into the room. “Congratulations. You have found the killer. Thanks to you, London is safe again. Now, to whom should I give the hat of master detective?”

“Me,” Scott announced without hesitation, accepting the deerstalker hat and placing it proudly on his head before anyone could argue.

“If you’d like to follow me, dinner will be served downstairs in the restaurant. You must all be very hungry after all your hard work.”

“Oh thank God,” Scott declared, doing his best to ignore the stifled giggles aimed at his headwear coming from the rest of his family. “I’m starving.”

“Is there ever a point at which you’re not hungry?” asked Cat, genuinely interested to know the answer.

“Nope,” Scott answered proudly, yelping as Gordon swiped the hat off his head from behind as they walked.

“Gordon, you look ridiculous,” Penny giggled as he tried to put it on over the hat he’d forgotten he was already wearing. “Give it back to Scott. It’s his birthday after all,” she added, catching Cat’s eyes with a quick smile of acknowledgment as she tried to atone for her earlier outbursts.

“Seems unfair but OK,” Gordon grumbled good naturedly, handing the hat back as they entered the restaurant.

“Finally, somewhere that's not a total health hazard,” John muttered to Selene as they took their seats.

Totally ignoring him, not that he cared, Selene fussed around Scott, making sure that the birthday boy was comfortably seated at the top of the table with everything he could possibly need on hand if he wanted it. The start of the evening hadn’t exactly gone as they’d planned but she’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy what was left of the night.

There was something so rewarding about your first decent drink of the night after you’d suffered the stress of event planning and Selene was more than grateful to be able to slip into her chair between Gordon and John and pick up the vodka apple cocktail that had been delivered to her.

“A toast,” Scott started, holding up his beer.

“Isn’t one of us supposed to do that?” John asked as he grabbed his own beer bottle.

“Birthday rights,” Scott told him smugly. “I just wanted to thank you all for being here tonight, thank the girls for planning such a great activity with such pleasant eye candy and for joining in to make it fun.”

“Sure, why not,” Selene agreed, saluting with her glass. “To birthday rights and milking them.”

“Damn straight,” Scott grinned.

“To annoying older brothers on their birthday,” Gordon added.

“To brothers who aren’t safe to be left alone with your witch,” John grumbled goodnaturedly.

“Many happy returns to good friends,” Penelope continued.

Scott looked at Cat, one eyebrow raised in anticipation. “What have you got for me? Anything you wish to bestow upon me for the next year? Any praise that should be coming my way?”

“To my favourite dumbass in the whole world,” Cat grinned, raising her glass to join the rest. “May this year bring you health, happiness and as many enormous steaks as you can eat. Happy birthday, Scott.”

“Now that’s something I can definitely get on board with,” Scott laughed, raising his glass to his lips.

“Are you ready to order?” a waiter asked, appearing out of nowhere. He was dressed in period clothing, as were all the other staff members and a few patrons.

“What do you have here?” Gordon asked. He, like all of the Tracy family, enjoyed nothing more than a good meal and since there had been many years where such a thing was not always readily available, they had learnt to make the most of any time they were somewhere where food was cooked for them by someone who wouldn’t destroy it.

“Your meal tonight will consist of six courses,” the waiter started.

“Six!” Gordon yelped.

“There goes my waistline again, I’d only just found it again after Christmas,” Selene groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “I know this is supposed to be a traditional Victorian meal, but who thought this was a good idea?”

“You,” Cat reminded her.

“Shh, woman,” Selene growled but Cat just smirked, unbothered by the threat. She knew her far too well to take her seriously now.

“I think it’s the best idea you’ve had,” Scott grinned. “I’m so hungry I could eat my hat.”

“Even the ear flaps?” Gordon asked. Scott nodded seriously.

The waiter coughed politely.

“So sorry,” Penelope apologised, “do continue.”

“Your first course is a choice of pheasant or cream of asparagus soup, served with fresh bread. This will be followed with a lettuce salad with accompanying cheese fingers.”

A few eyebrows rose at this.

“Next you have your choice of fish course, consisting of either baked salmon with sauce hollandaise, oysters rockefeller or stewed eels.”

“Eels?” Selene made a face of pure disgust which was echoed by Cat and John.

“For your entree meats you have a choice of hunters style stuffed venison, roasted chicken, pan fried duck, lamb medallions or a sirloin of beef. You can pick any combination.”

“Any combination?” Scott was practically drooling.

The waiter nodded, clearly having seen the disbelieving faces many times before.

“All are accompanied by a choice of wild mushroom risotto, boiled new potatoes, potato croquettes or boiled rice, along with green peas and seasonal vegetables.”

“I’m in heaven,” Gordon groaned.

“For your dessert course we have a choice of a delicious lemon sorbet, chocolate mousse, sugar biscuits or a selection of petits fours. This will be followed by a cheese course and finally coffees,” the waiter finished with a flourish, clearly enjoying playing the part. He stood with his order pad, awaiting their decision.

Blank faces stared back.

“Clearly this is new to you all,” Penelope sighed. “You must excuse them. I’d like the asparagus soup and then the baked salmon, followed by the venison with boiled potatoes and the sorbet to finish. Thank you.”

“How the heck did you do that?” Gordon goggled. “I’m pretty sure even John didn't catch all that.” He looked at his brother for confirmation.

“I made it up to the meat selection,” John confirmed.

“I’ve forgotten everything before chocolate mousse,” Selene admitted.

“I got stuck on the eels,” Cat joined in.

“I’m still trying to decide which meats to pick,” Scott finished.

“It’s quite alright, sirs, madames,” the waiter assured them, producing a number of printed menu cards from somewhere about his person. “I shall give you a moment to decide while I fetch tonight's choice of wines and refresh your waters.”

“Thank you,” Cat called after him, already scanning the menu.

A lively debate broke out as everyone discussed the options, deciding what they would like and struck up bargains amongst themselves of who would get to try a sample of the others meal. Scott, of course, had pulled out his birthday card again to secure himself a taste of everyone's food.

Decisions finally made it was a better informed group that reeled off their choice of food to the waiter, who’s name they found out was Carl. He left them with four bottles of wine and didn’t even baulk at Scott ordering the sirloin, lamb medallions and the roast chicken. He was getting the biggest tip of the year that night.

-x-

“I can’t walk, I’m too fat, carry me.”

“My love, I adore you, but if you are indeed as fat as you claim I doubt carrying you would be good for my health.”

Selene paused to think about this, wondering just how her man seemed to be able to drink the amount of beer and wine he had and still form a coherent and slightly sarcastic response. It was one of the many things she found quite sexy about him. Hmm, sexy...

“I do like your body to be in peak health,” she mused, letting her eyes wander up and down his body, taking in the tailored coat, waistcoat, neckerchief and shirt combo that was sitting so well on him. His hair had been brushed back and styled in a close approximation of the era's popular side parted look and it suited him to perfection, though she missed that familiar curl she liked to run her fingers through. “I’ve heard that regular exercise is key, for which I’m always willing to lend a hand.”

One eyebrow rose at her assessing stare and blatant ogling of his person. “I’ll bear that in mind,” he assured her, trying to keep his serious tone but only just managing it.

“Good, you do that,” she insisted, wobbling slightly on her heels as she tried to keep to a straight line. She sighed happily when his arm draped around her shoulders, helping to keep her upright. She slipped her arm around his waist, leaning closer. This was good. This was nice.

“Do you think Scott had a good time?” she asked quietly, watching Scott and Cat as they walked a little way ahead of them.

John rolled his eyes, having known this was coming. She always got like this when she had a few drinks in her. She would either be so over confident she thought she was a queen or she started doubting her very existence.

“You know he did,” John assured her. “You always manage to somehow dream up the best ideas for us, something we very much appreciate, and joining forces with Cat made it all the better.”

“Cat’s great,” Selene said, smiling dopily. “I love her, she’s the best.”

“You love everyone when you’re tipsy, I should be grateful that I’m getting any attention at all.”

“Oh hush, you’ll get more attention than you can handle when we get home.”

“I must admit, a night of peace and quiet alone in our little apartment, before we return to the madness of the island tomorrow, is sounding like heaven.”

“Just the peace and quiet?” Selene’s hand slid its way neatly from the small of his back to his right buttcheek.

“Not just that,” he admitted. He glanced at his brothers and their respective partners. “Can we say goodnight now?”

Selene followed his gaze, still feeling the need to check the situation one last time before she abandoned her duty of best friend for the night and concentrated on her man.

Scott and Cat were giggling so loudly she could hear it echoing around the quiet streets, that and the clack, clack, clack, skkerch noise of Cat’s heels as she stumbled now and then. Scott was trying admirably to keep her upright, just as John was with her, but it seemed that all of the ballerina’s balance and poise had abandoned her.

“They seem happy enough,” she murmured, her eyes searching out the other two. Gordon and Penelope were walking close together, though there was a lot less holding up than the other two. Gordon was a little winding in his walking but was holding his own, chatting amicably, clearly on his best and most charming behaviour. Penelope was the vision of a perfectly put together lady, she always was no matter how much she drank. Not that she seemed to have indulged much from what Selene could tell.

“Did you see Penny drinking much tonight?”

John paused, frowning lightly as he thought about it. “No, I don’t believe I did. We went straight up to the rooms when she arrived so she missed out on the first drinks and she said she wasn’t in the mood for those wines and, since she doesn't touch hard liquor and can’t stand the taste of beer, she’d stick to fruit juice.”

“Makes sense,” Selene shrugged, not bothering to think too much about it. “Gordon seems to be back in her good books now so I guess it’s safe to leave them all to their own devices.”

“Good enough for me,” he grinned, stealing a quick kiss before raising his voice to be heard. “Scott, Gordon! We’re heading home, don’t forget to be ready to go at one, any later and we’ll leave without you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Gordon called back. “And if I ask if we’re nearly there yet one more time you’ll dump me out at 5,000 feet.”

“Too right I will,” John answered, not even trying to deny the threat as being a possibility. “Scott?”

“One, got it,” his brother responded after a well placed elbow to the ribs from Cat. “Although you know you’ll have to wait for me, it is my birthday.”

“One more day, that’s all you have left to use that excuse,” Selene reminded him.

“And I’m gonna milk it for all it’s worth,” he assured her, opening his arms for a hug.

Selene pulled him into her arms, yelping when he grabbed her a little too tightly and tried to lift her into the air, holding her against his chest as he rocked her back and forth.

“John! A little help!” she patted Scott’s back ineffectively, dropping her bag which hit the ground with a suspiciously metal sounding rattling clunk.

“Alright, bro, that’s enough, give her back and go home,” John ordered, rescuing his girl from his brother’s limpet like grasp. “Go fling your own around until she throws up.”

“Good plan!” Scott, who had been on the verge of pouting when his cuddle buddy had been stolen, now grinned.

It was Cat’s turn to shriek as she was unceremoniously grabbed around the waist and hoisted up to drape over his shoulder as he took off running.

“Don’t drop her!” Selene called but they were gone.

“And people think I’m the one to watch out for,” Gordon mock sighed, shaking his head.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” John laughed.

“Night, Pen,” Selene said, giving the other woman a hug goodbye and then Gordon.

They waited until the pair had wandered off in the direction of their hotel, Penelope having given Parker his freedom for the night, before Selene allowed John to drag her to the tube station. Everyone was taken care of, the night had come to an end and now she could finally relax.

-x-

“Are you OK there?” Cat giggled as she threw her keys on the table, the amount of wine she had drunk with the meal making the sight of Scott sprawled on her sofa, looking very much like he might pass out any second much more amusing to her than it usually would.

“I’m absolutely fine,” he smiled up at her, grabbing her hand and pulling her down beside him. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” she laughed as she teetered dangerously on the edge of the sofa before losing her fight with gravity and slipping onto the floor with a bump. “Just that I’ve never seen anyone eat that amount of meat and remain conscious before.”

“Clearly, you’ve never been out for a meal with Virgil then,” Scott chuckled, undoing his belt and top button to give himself more room. Now that she’d mentioned it, he did feel rather full, not that he’d ever let her know that.

Cat spun herself around where she sat, threading an arm around Scott’s waist and resting her head on his chest, enjoying the peace and quiet her flat afforded them as he absent-mindedly stroked her hair.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight then?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably as the bones of her corset started to dig in. How Selene managed to wear stuff like this on a regular basis was beyond her, although she did have to admit that it gave her a good figure which she had caught Scott admiring on more than one occasion over the course of the night, so perhaps she was onto something.

“It was awesome,” Scott declared, sensing Cat’s discomfort and making room on the sofa for her. “You did a great job.”

Cat let out a breath that she hadn’t realised she’d been holding as she hauled herself up beside him. “I’m so glad. It’s a bloody nightmare trying to think of anything for you lot.”

“Well, I really appreciate the thought that went into it,” he continued, flashing her a dazzling smile. “It was a great night and I think everyone had fun. Even Penny seemed to get into it by the end.”

“Yeah, she got there eventually,” Cat agreed, relieved that her friend’s behaviour hadn’t soured his enjoyment of the night. “Anyway, now we’re home, there’s something I want to give you.”

“It’s the handcuffs from earlier isn’t it?” he guessed, genuinely unsure as to whether that would be a good thing or not.

“No, I think Selene took them,” she giggled, enjoying the look of horror that passed over Scott’s face before he shook his head to clear unwanted thoughts of what his little brother and best friend may or may not be up to at that moment.

Jumping up from the sofa, Cat grabbed a small box that she’d carefully stowed on the mantelpiece earlier, handing it to him carefully. “Happy Birthday Scott,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly before retaking her place on the sofa beside him.

“Thank you,” Scott beamed as he started to peel off the wrapping paper, taken by surprise by the gift. They had talked about it beforehand and he had assured her that spending the evening together would be more than enough for him to be happy, so this was completely unexpected.

Cat just smiled in reply, taking a sip of her drink as she anxiously waited for him to open it. Buying the man who had literally everything he could ever dream of something for his birthday was a task that she had hated every minute of and a tight knot formed in her stomach in case she had somehow got it wrong.

“It’s amazing,” Scott gushed, finally opening the lid of the box and pulling an antique pocket watch out of its satin bed to examine it better, running an appreciative finger over the ornate filigree on the back. “I absolutely love it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Cat smiled, relief rushing through her as he went straight back to scrutinising his new toy. “But your present isn’t just the watch though, it’s really what the watch represents.”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve lost me there,” Scott admitted, a small frown appearing on his face as he looked up in surprise.

“Time,” Cat explained, her grin becoming wider as she became more confident in her choice. “From today, I’ve arranged for us to both have seven whole days off from our jobs. We’re going back to the island tomorrow but then what we do is absolutely up to you. We can stay there, come back here or do anything else that you might like.”

For once in his life, Scott was speechless, unable to think of any response other than to grab Cat and pull her into a tight hug. “How?” was all he could manage when he finally let her go. “How on earth did you manage that?”

“John and Selene helped me sort it out,” Cat explained. “He’s going to stay down and let EOS run Five while you’re away so there’s backup if needed.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “I don’t remember when I last had that amount of time off in one go.”

“That’s exactly what Selene said when I mentioned the idea to her,” Cat smiled, relaxing back against the cushions now that she knew her idea was a success.

“Do you think we really have to go back tomorrow though?” Scott wheedled, nuzzling into Cat’s neck, trying to hit all the spots that he knew usually made her putty in his hands. “Can we not just stay here for the whole week, order lots of pizza and be really antisocial?”

“Nice try,” she laughed, using all her strength to shove him off. “Selene and I are cooking you a birthday meal for all the family so yeah, you do kinda need to be there for that. But after that we can absolutely just chill out here if that’s what you'd like.”

“Spoilsport,” Scott grumbled goodnaturedly, his smile giving away his true feelings about the prospect of having all of his family around him for a meal not cooked by his grandma.

“Yep,” Cat agreed cheerfully. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“Nothing probably,” he shrugged. “Too tired and full at the moment.”

“Thought as much,” she concurred, nestling in and resting her head on his chest.

Silence descended over them as they lay, lost in their own thoughts. Turning his watch over in his free hand, Scott was unable to stop himself from fiddling with the clasp, repeatedly opening and closing the case as a smile crept onto his lips, the evening replaying in his mind.

“Is it time for bed yet?” Cat yawned eventually, the adrenaline from making sure the night ran smoothly finally beginning to wear off.

“Let me check,” Scott grinned, opening the watch case once more and squinting at it. “Yes. Yes, I think it is.”

“C’mon then,” she decided as she pushed herself off the sofa, somehow finding the energy to help haul Scott upright from where he was almost horizontal on the cushions.

“Thanks,” he mumbled sleepily, draping an arm around her shoulder as they made their way towards the bedroom and some well-earned rest. “This has been the best birthday ever.”

#Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Penelope Creighton Ward #selene tempest #Catriona George #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction

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psychewithwings · 4 years

Text

Love Bakugo Pt. 1

Why was it that running into Katsuki Bakugo unexpectedly was the Universe’s sign for, ‘shit’s gonna go down’. Just last week, you had bumped into him with your boyfriend at the grocery store. Bakugo was gruff and cold as always, but as he left he touched your shoulder sweetly and said, “ good to see you again, Y/n.” “Who was that?” your boyfriend had asked. “An old UA friend,” you’d said and then continued your shopping, feeling as if a fog had settled on your day. Something was up, you couldn’t see what it was, but you knew something wasn’t quite right. When you’d unpacked the groceries in the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, you received a message from Bakugo.

I have to tell you something Meet me tonight 11 pm Train station by UA

You were confused and a little worried. Bakugo wasn’t the kind of guy to be so cryptic… You agreed to his meeting and walked up around 11:07. Bakugo was leaning against the column of the train station. He was carrying a plastic bag and his brow was knit together. He looked worried, but Bakugo wasn’t the type to fixate on something for long. “You’re late,” he scolded. You rolled you eyes and retorted playfully, “I’m always late.” His face broke into the closest thing Bakugo did to a smile. It was an almost smirk that he’d give you when he copped that you were being sarcastic or witty. His eyes refused to meet yours as he reached into his plastic bag and pulled out a smaller paper one. “Here… I remembered you liked these… or whatever.” You unwrapped the paper bag and found within a custard bun. “I owe ya one right?” he said.

A memory floated through your mind of a day at school. It was a rainy day in the middle of the week. You were sitting in the stairwell, listening to the drops of water tap against the glass windows. Bakugo had burst into your quiet space, muttering to himself about how he had forgotten his lunch. You’d reached into your lunch box and handed him your custard bun and told him, “you owe me one because these are my favorite… and you’re kind of a dick.” He’d been annoyed at first and denied your offer but you’d said, “oh pipe down you fat nonce,” with a big smile on your face. You’re sure he had wanted to yell at you but he opened his mouth, said nothing, grumbled a thanks, and then had lunch with you. It was the beginning of your friendship really… Your stomach dropped, Bakugo was not the kind of person to take ‘you owe me one’ seriously… unless he was the one saying it. “That guy you were with at the store… that’s your boyfriend?” You furrowed your brow, “yeah?” He looked away from you again, he was trying to collect himself, which he never did. Bakugo, like his quirk, was an explosion… you’d figured he never tried to compose himself because there were too man pieces of him to try and keep together. As long as you’d known him, he never had a hard time getting out what he needed to say. “Why is this so fucking hard?!�� he yelled at the sky. “Hey,” you said softly as you went to him, “you can tell me anything, hmm?” He met your eyes now but you’d never seen him like this. He looked angry and sad all at once. “God dammit Y/n, your boyfriend is cheating on you.” You felt like you’d been shut in a rusty iron maiden. Tears welled in your eyes, “how, how do you know?” You didn’t doubt him. Bakugo was a lot of things, selfish, cold, gruff, but he wasn’t a liar. He gestured for you to sit on the steps of the train station. “He works as support for my Agency, you know.” You nodded in confirmation. He paced back and forth on the steps beneath where you sat down. “Well, I saw them coming out of the copy room together. Her hair was a fuckin’ mess and his shirt was sticking out through his fly, they totally fucked. I didn’t even know who he was until I saw you guys together at the store.” That was it, you put your head in your hands and sobbed uncontrollably. The night air was thick with humidity and your sounds of sorrow. “Ah shit,” he said and he sat down next to you. You could feel him desperately trying to think of how to comfort you,“I’m sorry your boyfriend is an asshole,” he grumbled. You turned to look at him, your eyes blood shot and lip wobbling into a smile. Comfort was not his forte, but it meant the world to you that he was trying. “This is why I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, I didn’t want to be the reason you’re… like this” You gathered yourself, breath shaking as you tried your best to inhale, “I’m glad you told me though,” you said and tried your best to smile. You groaned and let your head fall back into your hands, “God, I feel so fucking stupid.” Bakugo scoffed, “He’s the idiot! I mean, look at you! You-“ his voice softened, “you’re great.” You turned your head to look at him, there was an expression you’d never seen on Bakugo’s face. A gentle smile had crossed his face and his eyes had softened from their usual scowl. He faced the street, and cursed to himself. “I wish I’d just blasted him into fucking nothing as soon as I put 2 and 2 together at the store,” he growled. “Why didn’t you?” you asked as you wiped the tears from your eyes. He took your hand but he didn’t look at you, a gesture you weren’t used to from him. You both stared across the street, watching a couple exit from a liquor store, holding hands. “Because, it’s not my fight.” He turned to face you, “we’ll get the bastard back, however you want, and I’ll help you the whole way.” You were grateful for his presence. You put your head on his shoulder and opened the paper bag once more. You let your tears fall onto Bakugo’s tee-shirt as you ate the custard bun. You didn’t say anything, just let your sadness hang in the silence. Bakugo didn’t say anything either, he was done talking for the night. He let you rest your head on him and he didn’t let go of your hand. That was last week, now you were standing in the lobby of Bakugo’s agency in a satin red dress that you had bought a month ago to surprise your boyfriend with for date night. However, you hadn’t had a date night to wear it on, and thanks to Bakugo, you knew why. It had been near impossible to pretend like nothing was wrong. Revenge was close and boy did it smell sweet. You made your way to the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor. “Hold it! Hold it!” you heard from outside the elevator. The doors, halfway shut, began to part again with the push of a button. Your boyfriend stood on the other side of the doors, a shocked expression painting his face. “Oh hey babe! What are you doing here? God you look incredible,” he said. His smile turned into that smirk you’d grown to love so much, “you here to see me?” he asked playfully. You sighed sweetly, trying to collect yourself and not kick him in his balls as hard as humanly possible. You moved to let him in the elevator and wrapped your arms around his neck, imagining snapping it to keep yourself calm. “I’m not actually! Katsuki invited me to lunch after we ran into each other at the store last week. Isn’t that sweet?” you said smiling. Your boyfriends face fell slightly. You knew that using Bakugo’s first name made him think twice. “Oh…” he paused studying your appearance. “Aren’t you a little dressed up for lunch?” he asked, a jealous tone seeping through his calm demeanor. “Oh, yeah, he’s taking me to that Russian tea room, The Red Door? It’s apparently really hard to get into but he has a few connections, I guess.” The doors opened to let your boyfriend out on his floor, “have fun…” he said, but he didn’t seem to mean it. “Thanks love, I will!” you said cheerfully and blew him a kiss before the doors shut again. You laughed to yourself, that wasn’t even planned. You were going to The Red Door, but only to plot out your revenge officially with Bakugo. Was this a sign the universe was giving you it’s blessing to tear the man apart from the inside out? It was good enough for you…

“tag list” @rebel---black @random-fandom-girl-24

And a straight shout out to this babe for teaching me how to make one :) <3

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #explosive revenge #mha #bnha #bnha imagines #bakugo fan fic

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imagine-docx · 4 years

Text

the cute barista and his crisis.

Summary: You spent the night at home, while your roommates were out partying. Suddenly, a random number called you ranting to you about how much he hates life. [college!barista!]

Warnings: hella sexual jokes and references, swearing, and hating post-secondary, as per usual.

A/N: hope you guys are still doing well and i hope you guys are staying safe! 💛 - Amanda

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Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday consisted of either early morning classes, midday classes, and the occasional class that ran past 8 pm. Fridays were the only day you can claim as yours, but of course, you had to work.

It was Thursday and the cool New York air was engulfing you and your roommates as the three of you made your way to the usual coffee shop that was a little bit off campus. “Gonna ogle the cute barista again?” Wanda nudged.

“Ah yes, young love,” Nat snickered.

“Shut up,” you felt the heat rise up to your cheeks, “I think he’s cute, but he probably has so many girls fawning over him.”

“Remember, we are the one cute girls in the coffee shop,” Nat said, opening the door, “After you, m’lady.”

That resulted in you and Wanda letting out a laugh, “Okay incel,” Wanda responded. The three of you glanced up at the menu, “I’m feeling tea today, but what kind?” Wanda said.

“After that comment, poison flavoured,” Nat muttered.

You let out a laugh, “You’re quite spicy today, go for a spiced tea.”

Wanda stuck her tongue out at Nat, “That’s why she’s my favourite roommate,” Glancing back at the menu, “Is Russian spiced tea good?”

“I don’t know, ask your favourite roommate,” Nat said.

“Bitch.”

The cute blond barista came up to the register, “You ready? Or do you need another minute?”

You felt Nat pinch your left ass cheek, and you nudge your elbow into her ribcage, “Yeah. Can I get a caramel iced coffee?”

“Of course, what else?” He asked.

“Can I get a cinnamon dolce latte?” Nat spoke keeping her hand near your ass cheeks.

“Of course, and for you?” He indirectly asked Wanda.

“Russian spiced tea please.” She spoke.

“That’s $17.60, here or to go?” He asked.

“Here,” Wanda said, while digging in her backpack for her wallet, “Credit please?”

“Aww, we love it when our sugar daddy treats us,” You snickered, resulting in a laugh from Nat and the barista.

“It’s only because she bought dinner and you bought dessert last night,” she grumbled.

“Go take a seat, and I’ll bring the drinks over when they’re done.” He spoke, which resulted in a hums of thank you from the three of you and you guys walked over to the usual booth you guys inhabited when you were here.

“Is there a reason that my poor ass cheek got abused?” You asked.

“He was checking you out,” Nat bluntly stated.

“No he wasn’t, he was doing his job.” You stated.

“And I am a natural redhead,” she sarcastically said.

“Wait, it's dye?” Wanda practically cried out.

The three of you laughed, and went over your plans for the next weekend. Nat had work and was doing rehearsal for the Russian dance competition that was happening in a few weeks. Wanda had to work and was also seeing her brother Pietro on Sunday. You on the other hand had to work, and had to have a comparative essay done by Monday.

“You’re so lucky you’re done your midterms,” Wanda said, “I’m still struggling trying to wrap my head around platyhelminths.”

“But see, you watched me and laughed at me for only surviving off of coffee and fruit snacks for three weeks straight. Now I am prospering and living my life and you have a midterm on Monday,” you said.

“You looked like death around the apartment,” Nat laughed, and the cute barista brought over your drinks.

“Russian spiced tea, cinnamon dolce latte, and caramel iced coffee,” he said, passing around the drinks, “And a tiramisu square.”

“Uh, we didn’t order this?” Nat asked.

“The table over there sent it,” he responded, pointing his head over to where a group of boys were sitting.

“Thank you,” the three of you hummed and there went the barista.

“You know,” Nat leaned into you, “He has a nice ass.”

“Nat,” You hissed.

“America is proud of that ass,” Wanda snickered.

Suddenly the group of boys that sent the dessert got louder, trying to get your attention. You rolled your eyes, “God, I hate men.”

“Except for the pretty blond one with a nice ass,” Nat said, digging into the tiramisu.

“I second that,” Wanda said, taking a bite of the piece on her spoon.

Suddenly the frat boy cult got even louder, Nat rolled her eyes, and moved your hair from the base of your neck, “What are you-” Then came a long lick from the base of your neck to your jawline. Suddenly the frat boy cult shut up, “Jesus Christ, warn a girl.”

“Why are you acting all shy now? You weren’t this shy last weekend when I was doing body shots off of you at the back of the apartment,” Nat said, nonchalantly.

“You may have shut up the frat boy cult, but the cute barista is so red you can confuse him for a bottle of ketchup.” Wanda stated.

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Two weeks have passed, and you would go into the coffee shop whenever you had over an hour worth of a gap, or before work. Today is one of those days. It was Friday, and you were due to start your shift in forty-five minutes.

Walking into the shop, there was the cute barista working the front. You didn’t catch the way his eyes practically lit up upon seeing you. “Just you today?” He asked.

“Yes sir,” you said, giving him a smile.

“Caramel iced coffee?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said, digging in your bag for your wallet.

“Don’t worry, it's on the house.” He said, “Here or to go?”

“To go, please.”

“You got it doll,” and with that you stood off to the side and waited for him to make your drink.

“Caramel iced coffee,” he called out.

“Thank you, have a good day,” you called out before making your way to your shift.

“You know you look like a lovesick puppy,” Bucky said to Steve.

“That obvious?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Also, remember, Happy is gonna take that coffee out of your paycheque,” Bucky said patting Steve’s back.

“If it’s for her, Happy can have my entire paycheque.” Steve responded, going to clean up.

“Ugh, teenagers and their hormones,” Bucky spoke.

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You, Wanda, and Nat sat on your shared living room floor eating the steamed dumplings and sushi that you ordered for dinner. “So you saw the cute barista boy today,” Wanda said, “Soy sauce please.”

Nat handed her the sauce before taking a california roll for herself, “His ass still thick?”

You nearly choked on the dumpling you were eating, “Fucking Christ, Nat.”

“You can’t miss that ass!” Nat tried justifying, “He walks in, and his ass walks in five minutes later.”

Wanda choked on her iced tea, “He wore this white shirt that was way too tight for him, God that left nothing to the imagination,” you said recalling the way his muscles moved when making your coffee.

“Someone’s having a wet dream tonight,” Wanda said.

You threw a soy sauce packet at her head, “No! I don’t even know his name.”

“See that’s a problem, she can’t moan his name if she doesn’t know his name.” Nat laughed.

You threw a soy sauce packet at her head, “The both of you need to get laid.”

“So do you sweetheart, and by the big muscular blond with the thick ass who works at The Petite Bean.” Wanda said, nearly dodging another soy sauce packet.

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The next Friday night you were at home by yourself eating a sandwich from the bodega that was next to your building. Wanda and Nat went to this party, you wanted to go, but after your shift, you were exhausted and just decided to call it a night.

Taking the last bite of your turkey sandwich, you got up and threw everything out, and decided to go and take a long hot shower. You stood at the tv debating whether or not you should turn off the documentary on whales, but you decided not to as it helps serve as background noise.

You showered and threw on a massive NYU hoodie and some pyjama shorts. Getting out of the shower, you headed back to the kitchen, dug around in the cabinets for a snack of a sort, and headed back to your position on the couch.

You were scrolling through your Instagram, when a random number called you. You answered because you never know it could be Nat or Wanda in trouble. “Hello?”

You heard a shaky breath from the other side, “Oh sorry, I have the wrong number.”

“Hey, before you hang up, are you okay?” You asked.

“Not really-”

You cut him off, “Did you want to talk about it? I have the time.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna bother you,” the man from the other side of the line said.

“Of course, shoot,” you said.

“Midterms got the worst of me. I’m practically failing chemistry, why did I take chem? Like I’m an art major, the fuck am I doing in science? Then the girl I dated for a little keeps coming by the place I work at with the man she cheated on me with, and that shit still stings. Then, there’s this cute girl who keeps coming by the place I work, and I can’t seem to talk to her. She’s like this ball of sunshine, and I don’t think I can talk to her. Do you have anything fucked up happening in your life? Or is the lord hating on me?”

You laughed, “Unfortunately, no. With the chem thing, don’t be so hard on yourself. Courses get to the best of us, we are so reliant on a GPA, when it doesn’t even guarantee a job after practically killing ourselves for this degree. Failing one course isn’t so bad, just don’t fail more than three, that might result in academic probation. Honestly, if she cheated on you, fuck her. She doesn’t deserve any of your attention, if she was the one who gave you up. And with the other girl, just slowly ease her into it, ask her how her day has been, ask her about the weather, if she’s holding a book or something, try to bond with her about that.”

“You sound like a psych major,” he joked.

“Psych minor,” you corrected, “Socio major. From what I know you can’t be a science major. So what do you major in?”

“Art history, and minor in regular history.”

“Oh, we got a huge history fan don’t we?” You joked.

“Biggest nerd in Brooklyn.”

That same night the two of you stayed talking until 4:30 am, before he heard you yawning and telling you to get some sleep. You both bidded your goodnights and the moment your head hit the pillow, you knocked out.

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The following morning, or afternoon at that point. You stumbled into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, and heard Wanda and Nat groaning about how they need Advil. You opened the door to Nat’s room and saw the two of them practically cuddling. You threw two bottles of water, and the bottle of Advil at them before heading to the washroom to brush your teeth.

Once you were done, you sat on the counter of the kitchen drinking your coffee, you heard stumbling from the hallway. Suddenly, a disheveled Nat appeared, she was sporting bedhead, smeared makeup, a black lace bra and some random sleeping shorts that looked like they belonged to Wanda. “Good morning sweetheart,” you cooed.

She flipped you off before making herself a cup of coffee, “Never drinking again.”

“Nat,” Wanda whined, “Please I need a cuddle buddy.”

“You have another roommate,” Nat reminded her.

Wanda nudged your legs open and curled up into your frame, “My favourite.”

You laughed while patting her head, “What happened?”

“So much booze, free booze.” Nat stated.

Free booze to university kids was like feeding candy to a toddler. “Alright cuddlebug. I have errands to do, I gotta go shower.” You said trying to push away Wanda.

“No, please don’t.” Wanda latching onto you harder.

“She’s gonna make her way down to Manhattan to see the cute barista,” Nat joked.

“Harhar, I’m going to the bank and I need to mail out this return. The green dress was too big, had to order a size down.” You said, finishing off your coffee, finally pushing off Wanda, “Also why the fuck would I go to Manhattan to see the barista.”

“Dick makes you do crazy things baby girl.” Nat said.

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While you were getting dressed your mind ran onto the man who called you last night and ranted to you about his life. You decided to call him back and check up on him. After three rings he picked up, “Hello?”

“Hey, you called me last night and we talked for an hour and a half about some super deep stuff, you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks for checking up on me.” He spoke.

“Not a problem, if you ever need to rant, you can always text me.” You said shoving your wallet into your bag.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna burden.” He asked.

“If you need a friend, I am here for you.” You said.

You two exchanged names, before both of you had to go. And that started your texting relationship with a man named Steve Rogers.

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You came back home from your errands trip and brought bagels for the two hungover disasters you call your roommates. You walked back in and saw Wanda and Nat under the pink fur blanket watching the whale documentary you were watching last night. “My baby is back,” Wanda said excitedly.

“I bring bagels, because bagels make us happy when we are hungover.” You said placing the bag on the table, “Two rainbow bagels with strawberry cream cheese. Two poppy seed bagels with tuna salad on both.” You said handing each of them their own bagels.

You grabbed your own two before plopping next to them, “If barista boy doesn’t domesticate you, I will.” Nat said.

You laughed before you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you got a message from Steve asking about the bagel place you usually get your stuff from. “Who’s Steve?” Wanda asked.

“New mans?” Nat exclaimed.

“You’re replacing barista boy before you could even dick him down?” Wanda cried out.

“No, Jesus. I haven’t even met Steve-” Wrong phrasing you used there.

“You’re back on tinder?” Wanda asked, “I thought we were doing it together.”

“No, he accidentally called me last night and we talked for an hour.” You said nonchalantly taking a bite out of your bagel.

“A threesome with barista boy and Steve? Wow someone’s getting some,” Nat said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Jesus Christ Nat.”

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As per usual, you made your way into the cafe getting coffee before your shift. Noticing the barista, you again missed the gleam in his eyes when he saw you. He mustered up the courage, “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m doing good,” You smiled.

Steve felt his knees weaken at your smile, “The usual?”

“The usual,” you said, paying and going to message the roommate group chat about the tight light blue shirt barista boy was wearing today.

“Alright, here you go.” He said sliding you the coffee and a straw.

“Thank you, have a good day,” you said before slipping out of the shop and heading to work.

“So you took the girls advice and asked her about her day, look at you making big moves.” Bucky nudged Steve.

“One step at a time Buck,” he said, going to clean up his station.

“Hey, you better have not given her another free coffee,” Bucky called out.

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After several weeks of messaging Steve, you learned he also attended NYU and both of you worked around your schedules, trying to meet up. The two of you finally decided to meet on campus. You picked a morning where you, Nat and Wanda had a two hour gap just in case something happened and he was in fact a 50 year old pervert with a thing for third year students.

You: hey i’m in the student centre

Steve: Hey, I’m sitting, I’m wearing a black jacket and a white t-shirt

You looked up and almost screamed, as if the gods were playing a joke on you. It was your cute barista boy. Okay, being rational, he could happen to be here at the same time, wearing the same out- nope, no way. “Steve?” You asked, approaching the table.

Looking up from his phone, he was shocked as well, “H-hi,” he stuttered out.

“Can I sit?” You asked.

“Of course.”

“So I guess you were helping me, try and talk to you,” he finally spoke out.

“Wait, what?” You asked, confused.

“The girl I was messaging you about, was you,” he sheepishly said.

You didn’t know how to respond, “Really?”

“Yeah, if you don’t feel the same that’s okay.” Steve said looking down at his fingers.

You took his hand in yours, “No, I like you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Nat keeps trying to get me to ask you out. But I kept talking myself out of it.” You said.

“How about I treat you to the finest thing this campus has to offer and we can talk about how we both are idiots,” he offered.

“It better be the Wendy’s,” you joked.

“Only the finest for the finest,” he winked at you, resulting in the blush staining your cheeks. He stood up and put his hand out, upon standing up you took his hand and was about to exit the student centre.

You heard Nat speak loudly to Wanda, “She’s getting dick, I’m so proud of her.” You wanted the ground to create a blackhole and swallow you whole.

Until you heard another voice, “BuckBuck! Our baby Steve is all grown up and getting pussy.”

You looked to see Steve blushing, turning back and flipping him off, “Fuck off Sam.”

Of course, both of your roommates were the worst.

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