#pleading and praying he will have more screen time in whatever is coming next for belobog 🙏🙏🙏🙏

[laseratingfist]

luka gets left out and forgotten so often that i almost have to laugh. boy introduced and then forgotten by the storyline, only to be added to every other banner.

[hoodiewithhorns]

━  using your safeword scenarios p.3 !★

genre : hurt/comfort smut.

characters : f! reader x sakusa, matsukawa, kenma

p.1  + p.2 + m.sterlist + requests  

(please read the rules before requesting ty.)

▼ cw : not proof read, use of safeword, neglect , unprotected sex, degradation , clit spanking ( 1 ), impact play ( sakusas part ), mentions of exe(s), caught masturbation (reader) , pillow humping, thigh riding, implied punishment, kinda crybaby reader, implied cockwarming, cheating (?), angst, established relationship, all characters are 18+, MDNI ▲

different safewords used this time <3

- ty to the anons and user @/please-take-me-to-the-moon for the scenarios <3 

sakusa 

word count : 1.4k

you knew better than to do this, humping your dearly beloved boyfriends pillow with just your cotton panties, a loose shirt with no bra under, like a bitch in heat, desperate for friction of any kind. You knew if he had caught you like this he would punish you that was guaranteed. however, in the literal heat of the moment you didn’t care. sakusa’s constant pattern of coming home the minute you were already fast asleep in your shared bed, never being able to fill the void of need in your little cunt. 

〜　☆

Considering he’d let this slide since its been a month since you’ve two have done anything sexual, these thoughts only making you hump his pillow even more desperate leaving a pool of your arousal staining his pillow, with the occasional soft whimpers of his name. losing yourself in your own lust, You didn’t hear the sound of the door clicking open.

Sakusa, leaving his practice early since his performance was unfavorable by the shitty mood he was in, lashing out on his teammates for the smallest things they’d do and so many more. in short, his team suggested he’d stay home t’ill he cooled down. 

“y/n? i’m home.”he walked around the empty apartment accompanied by the muffles of your soft moans, trying to find you as quickly as possible, obviously knowing it was you. he opened the bedroom door slowly and quietly. his eyes grew wide at the scene in front of him. 

still not noticing his presence in the door frame you continued humping his pillow feeling your high approach, but leave you since you needed him. 

“tch.” clicking his tongue at you in disapproval. you flinched letting go of his pillow to face him, feeling your heart race when you made eye contact with him, arms folded and a look of disgust planted on his pale face. Your eyes already filling up with tears knowing what comes next. “m’ y-yoomi! w-welcome home-”

“who the fuck gave you permission to touch yourself?” cutting you off, walking towards the bed, he pinned you down to the bed, arms on your sides, hovering over you with his dead, cold, heartless gaze cutting through you, as you tried to look away in shame only earning you a slap to the face to make you look at him. the sting causing you to choke out a sob. praying internally that he’d let you off the hook just this once. you were just needy for him.he has to understand that, right?

“answer me, right.now.”

“n-no one yoomi... i’m s-sorry please don’t wanna be punished!” you pleaded to him only making him more angrier. he grabbed your jaw making you whimper at the tight grip. scanning you top to bottom, eyeing at the wet patch on your underwear. 

“then why did you huh? couldn’t wait until i got home couldn’t you? needy fucking thing.” he tutted, letting go of your jaw harshly, tugging your panties down to your knees already feeling impatient himself by how his cock hardened through his shorts. despite wanting to punish you, he wanted you. needed you to be precise.

 the man hasn’t felt you in a whole month how could he not miss his girlfriends tight slutty cunt? removing his volleyball shorts letting his cock spring free, he strokes himself a few times before lining himself against your cunt, letting a small sigh when you felt his hard tip touch your soaked entrance. 

feeling slightly relief you were finally gonna feel him after so long. That feeling of relief however didn’t last long when he slammed his fat cock inside you without warning. you let out a yelp, hands immediately going to his chest hoping for him to not bruise your cervix from how deep he was already. he growled when he felt your palms try and stop him, so he slapped your hands away roughly marking them red. 

“b-but yoomi please it hurts..it h-hurts” 

you figured he didn’t hear you. but he was too focused on punishing you to care if it hurt or not. so you pleaded again for him to slow down. finally getting a response from him.

“shut up you disgusting whore.you brought this on yourself, touching yourself while your boyfriends away.”

“...dirtying up his fucking pillow while he’s gone. how fucking pathetic.”  he spits, slapping your clit harshly in attempt to get you to shut up. his degrading not having a hint of reassurance anywhere like it usually does when he fucks you. normally, he’d call you his “slut” or his whore but never ever calling you a disgusting one at most, what did this mean?..you asked yourself, mind going hazy with fear. feeling like your boyfriend finds you disgusting for your actions, and not a single trace of love or concern for you, not even noticing how you tried inching yourself away from his pace. 

sakusa was a mean dom yes, but he cared about you and your boundaries and right now it seemed like he didn’t care about any of those.

too focused on his own pleasure, not realizing you slowly started to breakdown in front of him, hands to your eyes shaken from how hard he hit them, as more tears fell to stain your cheeks.

“n-no not disgusting..i-i’m...so sorry..sakusa..just missed you.” you muttered no longer feeling the long needed pleasure of his cock, only feeling a painful discomfort in your chest as if your heart was gonna burst out of it at any minute. he was caught off-guard by you calling him by his last name, but that didn’t stop the brutal pace on your sloppy cunt. repositioning his hand to your hips digging his nails in your sides, bound to leave marks to be seen in the morning. 

“addressing me by my last name? what you think thats gonna make things better?”he muses, his pace speeding up making you whimper. you’ve just about had enough.

“germs! g-germs! no more, i don’t like this!! y-you’re hurting m-me sakusa... please s-stop..stop.” screaming your safeword, trying to get him off you, you pushed with the little strength in you with your fragile hands. it wasn’t enough but he got the message. blinking a few times to make sure he processed the current situation.

he sighed pulling his cock out watching you with wolf eyes as you softly cried to yourself, turning to your side. he didn’t say anything he just laid down beside you. sneaking an arm around your waist, face buried in your neck. he planted some soft kisses onto it trying to make you relax. if he was being brutally honest, he didn’t know what to do.

you never used your safeword and even if it didn’t show in his face, he was pretty frightened. watching you tense up and shake around him all because of him.

“ y-yoomi..im sorry-”

“don’t be.”

he rubs your hands with his thumb in slow but comforting circles, seeing its still red from being slapped away by him, along with him kissing your cheek to simmer down the sting from earlier. god he felt so bad, but was so scared at the same time, all he wanted to do was hold you close..

..and thats what he did, watching you curl up to his chest. The room was silent for a few minutes that felt like hours gone by. you looked up at him with the look you always gave him. Full of love and adoration even with puffy eyes and hurt in your chest you still loved him.

He looked down noticing the soft smile you gave him as if nothing happened. Titling his head in confusion he asks

“why are you smiling? aren’t you upset..at me?”

you shook your head at him, “no yoomi I’m not mad. My body kinda hurts yes, but I’m glad to have you home...i missed you so much I’m sorry i touched myself without permission...”

he lightly smiles at you kissing your lips softly.

“it’s okay. tomorrow we’ll have the day all to ourselves and we can do whatever you want my love. I’m sorry i was so mean... i was having a bad day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

you paused leaning in closer to his chest as you mumbled.

“can we...take a bath together yoomi?”

“oh sure...here i’l carry you.”

needless to say, you forgave him and gave him one last kiss before going to bed.

kenma

word count : 886

kenmas work schedule was god awful since he was practically up to play games and just that leaving you feeling needy and neglected. you hated it. 

but tonight you were just, so needy and couldn’t stand this constant neglect.

No matter how many times you touched yourself of grind against something it couldn’t compare to the way kenma would stuff you with his cock.

he wasn’t a super harsh dom leaning towards a mix of soft and mean, but he still prioritized your needs before his. and tonight you were gonna get that version of kenma.

walking towards the couch he was playing his games at slowly, with nothing but his hoodie and knee highs. you bit your lip standing in front of him, fiddling your thumbs out of nervousness. He titled his head to remove you from his line of sight to see the tv screen better making your heart ache just a little, being so used to it already.

taking a deep breath you sat in between on of his thighs wrapping your arms around his neck making him let out a groan of annoyance to your needy antics.

he continued to play his game acting as if you weren’t there and nothing changed. it all came to a halt when he felt you grinding on his thigh, letting out small cries of his name.

“baby.... please” you mumbled facing his disinterested face not even sharing a glance at you as he continued to move his thumbs around his controllers joystick. He didn’t even pay mind to the fact you were borderline naked either.

“five minutes pretty girl.” he muttered still too absorbed in his game. You pouted shifting your legs to be wrapped around him now, wet cunt on top of his crotch rubbing against him lightly. Making him flinch at the sudden friction. giving you hope he’d give you what you want now. you smirked continuing to grind against him making him bite back a grunt. 

“ugh what are you doing?” he said clearly annoyed by your antics already.

your face became red while placing your hands on his shoulders slowly starting to grind against his growing bulge. “want your attention kenma please need you so bad.” you begged hoping he’d give you something anything really.

but being kenma, he went back to his video games. your pout returning once more. “but kenma, please i really really need you.” you continued with your antics and he paused his game, putting his controller on the coffee table. 

“fine you want me so fucking bad?” he grabs you by the hips making you yelp as he throws you down the couch. back hitting the cushions while he takes your legs and wraps them around his waist.

he pulls down his sweats pumping himself a few times as he rolls his head back, holding back his grunts. he slowly slides his cock into you, being easy to do considering how wet you were already for him. 

he groans as he bottoms out inside you starting steady, but slowly picking up the pace to be more..brutal.

“k-kenma..m’ feels good thank you thank you” you rambled out praises making him grab you by the throat to thrust into you faster. 

“god you’re so fucking annoying bothering me because you wanted to get your cunt stuffed like a little slut while i fucking work.” he scoffs making your eyes shoot open at him.

“such a fucking annoying little slut.” he continues his degradation thr grip on your throat not loosening. you felt you eyes grow teary as he continued to call you more vulgar names with the sprinkle of him calling you annoying. 

“ c-console...” you mumbled wrapping your hands on his wrists, making him let go of your throat. he froze getting closer to your face as he pulls out slowly.

“huh? Whats wrong does it hurt?” he asks rubbing away your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

your lip quivered as more tears started to form. “...i-im annoying...?” you looked him in his eyes as more broken sobs leave you.

“I just wanted some attention kenma...you’re always so busy sometimes I don’t even think you remember i exist..” you muttered feeling small under his cat like stare. 

he sighed kissing your cheek, falling to your. side feeling his breath hit your neck. “sorry baby i swear i didn’t mean it...you’re not annoying its my fault for not giving you attention.” he admits as you wrap around him. 

“y-you promise you didn’t mean it?” you ask once more. he sneaks a hand under your head to lift you up to his chest, patting your head softly. 

“ i promise. here why don’t you sit on my lap, we can do that thing you wanted to try last week...” he looks away embarrassed, you tilt your head in confusion but then realize what he was referring to. you nodded joyfully wrapping your arms around his neck, he adjusts himself for you to line up to take him. he  slowly puts you back down on his cock. hissing at the returning feeling.

He smiled kissing your forehead lightly as he hugged you tight. 

“better my love?”

“mhm mhm!” you said placing your head on his shoulder as you relax into him. slowly drifting away into sleep. its not much, but at-least it stuffs your very needy cunt.

matsukawa 

word count : 615

what lead to this? you two were just on a simple date together at a nearby mall shopping together, looking at upcoming movies, stopping by a few manga stores and bakeries to treat yourselves. overall, just enjoying the time shared together. 

that is t’ill the two of ran into your ex. issei watching the two of you talk to each other not realizing how uncomfortable you really were, hiding it with a friendly facade of course going unnoticed by him since he was practically death glaring your ex. 

he was basically third wheeling in your conversation with your ex. you would side eye issei hoping he’d pull you out of your situation but it was too late since his mind was cloudy with jealousy and rage.  

now, leading up to your current predicament. a heavy make-out now leading to a degradation fest.  

“aw whats wrong little slut can’t take me, fucking pathetic much?” he teases pounding you at a faster pace. “can’t believe my own fucking girlfriend was just there being all friendly to her ex..what don’t tell me you still want him?” he muses making you rapidly shake your head. 

“ no i don’t i swear issei..just wan’ you..”you muttered eyes growing puffy from how cruel he spoke to you as he continued to suggest away of how would get him back since it seemed like you missed him from how friendly you were acting.

growing quiet at his words trying to tune out his words. it’ll all be over soon anyways, you just had to hold on a bit you told yourself. of course you were an idiot for letting him keep going. 

“ maybe i should go ask how kimi’s doing act all friendly and nice towards her.” you tuned into what issei had said in horror at what he just said.

kimi, his much prettier ex who t’ill this day wasn’t over him and he knew this. throwing it in your face as he darkly chuckled at you. you removed your arms that were wrapped around his neck pulling him close. and cupped your face in your hands at the thought of your boyfriend going back to his ex. leaving you alone again.

he wouldn’t right? even though she was much prettier in every feature she had compared to you. he wouldn’t right..? right? 

“f-funeral...“you sniffled making him stop all his movements and lock eyes with you. your safeword ringing in his ears. 

“hey..hey no i didn’t mean it...” he quickly pulls you towards him, pulling you out of him and hugging you tight. he rocks you softly back and forth in his embrace letting all your bottle up feelings burst onto him.  he quick to comfort you and pepper a few kisses on your face.

“ issei..” you mumbled against his chest. he rubs your back looking down at you.

“yes baby..?” his voice shaken with worry hoping you weren’t too mad at him.

“ i-i don’t miss him.. i was only being nice..i was uncomfortable talking to him why didn't you..” he internally punches himself for being so blind and not being able to see by all your movements how uncomfortable you were just breathing the same air as your ex.

he was too blinded by his jealousy to realize his poor baby was scared. he mumbled a curse before apologizing.

“i’m sorry baby i didn’t realize he was making you uncomfortable i should've done something..” his eyes wander away from you.

“ i was just jealous..” he admits

“but issei.. you’re all i want.” you say kissing his cheek and he smiles gracefully. 

“am i-i all you want sei?”

“ duh pretty baby. everything  i want and need.”

matsukawas is so short i’m so sorry ahhhh but i hope u all enjoyed <3

[trouble-off-grid]

Little Fish

Here it is, this is my piece for the mcyt g/t enchange, and my person was @lorie-the-little-ghost! I’ve never written Karlnap before so I was supper excited to see this prompt and I hope you enjoy! Living with Sapnap felt just as natural as swimming, of course, there were the occasional rough parts, but the reward was worth more to Karl than any risks that came with sharing a house with a human. When Sapnap first suggested they were to get a house together, Karl all but glowed at the idea. He loved Sapnap and couldn’t wait to spend even more time together with his boyfriend, there was only a slight problem with this. The house they moved into was right on the seaside and while the view was truly gorgeous, Karl couldn’t help the way his body froze anytime Sapnap mentioned going down to the actual beach.

The idea of Sapnap seeing what Karl actually was terrified him, he truly loved Sapnap and as much as he hated keeping such a main part of him a secret from him he couldn’t help but be more scared of losing his love. So he agreed to move there and just promised himself that he would avoid all water while around Sapnap. Even if it hurt him every time he declined going down to the beach with some flimsy excuse. After all, the man was relentless with his efforts, and seeing his face fall every time was not something Karl wished for.

It was this current thought process that brought Karl back to the conversation he was having with his boyfriend, “Come on babe I promise it’ll be so much fun, I even packed us lunch!” Sapnap pleaded, staring at him with his best puppy dog eyes. Karl almost broke then and there, maybe if he went and just stuck strictly to the sand everything would be okay. But the little voice in his head couldn’t stop whispering about all the what-if scenarios. Ignoring how his heart yearned to be able to swim with Sapnap while in his true form. 

He looked away from Sapnap, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes at his answer, “I’m sorry Sap but I’ve just got a really bad cramp right now” The excuse sounded weak even to Karl, and as soon as he mumbled out his answer he was standing from his chair and making his way down to their bedroom. He immediately flopped down onto the bed and groaned loudly into his pillow. Getting all his frustrations out he grabbed it with both hands and curled himself around it, trying to swallow down the guilt he felt at lying to Sapnap.

Meanwhile, Sapnap just stared as his boyfriend all but ran out of the room from him. Sighing he sat down the bag with their lunches in it on the counter and slumped into the seat Karl was previously sitting in. He couldn’t help but feel that Karl was hiding something from him. He seemed so excited to move in together yet there were times when it felt like Karl would just completely pull away from him. Thinking over all the odd encounters he’s had with Karl recently made him notice how these moments aligned with anytime Sapnap mentioned going to the beach. 

Raking through his brain for possible solutions he tried to think of why Karl would avoid the beach like the plague. It’s not as if he avoided water either, as the man still took showers like a normal person. So if Karl wasn’t scared of water then why wouldn’t he want to swim? As if his muddled thoughts cleared suddenly, he was left with an answer that made so much sense he was shocked he hadn’t figured it out earlier. 

Karl can’t swim. 

It made perfect sense! He must have just been too embarrassed to say anything so instead, he just avoided his problem. Well, how could Sapnap claim himself as the best boyfriend if he continued to let Karl suffer alone in his embarrassment? Sapnap was determined to teach Karl to swim now, he smirked as he thought about his adorable boyfriend clinging to him as they waded in the ocean together. Taking their food out of the bag and putting it in the fridge Sapnap left the kitchen and made his way to their office where he began his research on how to teach someone to swim. 

Deciding to stop wallowing in his own self-pity Karl peeked out of the bedroom trying to gauge where Sapnap was in the house. Karl was already hiding a big part of himself, the last thing he wanted to do was completely hide away from Sapnap. Walking through the hallway he saw the lights were on in the office, he gently knocked on the door before pushing it fully open and entering. 

At the sound of Karl coming in Sapnap swiftly closed the tab he was on and spun his chair around to face Karl. They made eye contact and Karl gave a little apologetic smile at Sapnap, normally the younger would feel disheartened after his boyfriend declined his offer once again but knowing the truth now he smiled fully back at him. 

When Karl walked into the office he was a little suspicious of how quickly Sapnap closed whatever screen he was on but with how big of a secret Karl was keeping from him he figured it was only fair Sapnap got to have his own. So instead of questioning the weird behavior he just moved on getting ready to apologize to Sapnap only to be surprised when Sapnap genuinely smiled at him, “I just wanted to apologize again for not being able to go to the beach with you but uh, I think I might’ve just eaten something bad.” 

Standing from his chair Sapnap made his way over to Karl grabbing both his hands in his own and rubbing a circle gently on his boyfriends’ skin, “Hey, no worries baby, I understand and besides there’s always next time,” He let a smirk grow on his face and wiggled his eyebrows at Karl, delighted in the way he broke into giggles at his antics.

Karl seemed to stare longingly into Sapnaps eyes as he replied, “Yeah, next time.”

Next time seemed to come sooner than Karl was prepared for as normally Sapnap waited a couple of days to ask him the dreaded question again but it seemed his boyfriend had other plans for today. 

Sapnap had left the house extra early that morning just to go shopping for the items needed for his swimming lessons with Karl. He couldn’t wait to show Karl the kickboard and fun assortment of floaties he had bought.     

He was practically vibrating with excitement as he unlocked the front door shopping bags in hand. He couldn’t help but smile in glee when he saw Karl started as he burst in through the door and saw Karl startle. 

Their current positions felt like Deja vu as Sapnap prepared to ask Karl the same question he asked yesterday. But this time would be different as now Sapnap knew why Karl was declining all his offers. 

“Karl my love! We are going to the beach today!” Paying attention he noticed how Karl winced once he realized what was said, only reaffirming Sapnaps suspicion. 

Biting his lip in contemplation he tried to find the words to say, “Sap I would love to, but, I just ate and I really shouldn’t go swimming right after eating.” Normally this would be the moment when Sapnap tried and failed to not act sad over Karl declining and then he would eventually give up asking until another today. Today however Sapnap seemed to only grin wider after hearing Karls response.

“See I knew you’d say that, every time I’ve asked you to come down to the beach with me you’ve always declined,” Karl wasn’t sure he liked the way Sapnap was walking towards him as he spoke, “I’ve been trying to figure out why you would say no.” At this point Sapnap was practically standing over Karl making the taller have to look up at him as he was sitting down, “And I finally know the truth.” 

Karl felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest with how fast it was beating. How could Sapnap know? He had been so careful not to slip up and expose himself yet somehow his boyfriend had still found out. “Go on, say it then.” He closed his eyes in preparation, not being able to look at Sapnap when he said it.

“You can’t swim!” Those three words had Karl startled out of his thoughts.

“I, uh what?”

“Yeah babe, I know you’ve been too embarrassed to say anything to me but I figured it out yesterday and I’ve decided I’m gonna teach you to swim.” Sapnap sounded so sure that Karl found it hard to even respond to him.

“That’s not- I know how to swim Sapnap” He weakly argued.

“You don’t have to lie anymore, plenty of people can’t swim Karl, you don’t have to be embarrassed around me,” and before Karl could even respond Sapnap was emptying the grocery bags to show his earlier purchases.

“Look! I even got stuff so that It would be easier for me to teach you!” 

Karl could feel as his eyes start to swell with tears, he was so lucky to have such a caring boyfriend, if only he knew the truth. Standing up so he was now right next to Sapnap, staring down at him. “Sapnap, this was all very sweet of you but I can’t go to the beach with you.”

He could see confusion paint Sapnaps’ face as he spoke, “I don’t understand, why are you avoiding this?”

“I just can’t okay?” He turned to leave the room, desperate to escape this conversation but found his wrist caught in Sapnaps hand before he could. 

“If you can swim then why are you avoiding me on this? Did I do something?” 

“No, I just can’t talk about it,” He tried to pull his wrist free but found Sapnap still holding on. 

“Why can’t you tell me?” Sapnap pleaded.

“I just cant!” Karl tried pulling his wrist out again at the same time Sapnap let go. Not expecting the sudden momentum Karl stumbled backward flailing his arms to try and catch his balance. As he did so he knocked a glass of water straight off the counter and onto himself.

It was as if time froze before multiple things happened all at once. Both men turned to a state of panic, Sapnap worried the glass hurt Karl while Karl was panicking over what he knew was about to happen. He could see Sapnaps lips moving, trying to ask if he were okay but his ears were filled with a ringing sensation. Karl could only pray that this time he got water on himself would be a fluke, maybe nothing bad would happen.

 As if thinking about it made it true he immediately felt himself go from towering over Sapnap to now having to stare up at him from the floor in just a quick flash. He had never seen Sapnap from this angle and he could only imagine the short jokes Sapnap would make if he saw him now. That is if he was able to ignore the fishtail now attached to his body and only focused on his new height.

Meanwhile, Sapnap stared in disbelief as one second his boyfriend was in front of him and the next he wasn’t. Looking around the now empty room and not seeing Karl he started to panic and call out, “Karl?! Baby, where’d you go?!”

While Karl was trying to figure out a plan to get away without being seen he couldn’t help but hear how desperate Sapnap sounded. He kept glancing from his tail, up to his boyfriend, and then again. If not for the way Sapnap was still calling out in a panic he might not have worked up the courage to gain his attention. Drawing all his nerves Karl sat, petting his tail for comfort, he had to remind himself that this was Sapnap, his loving boyfriend, who would never hurt him.

“Sapnap!” Watching as the aforementioned male looked around in confusion he continued, “Look down!” 

Sapnap hearing Karl’s voice looked down to see his boyfriend, not only tiny but sprouting a rainbow fishtail. Crouching down to get a closer look at him he saw that sure enough, his boyfriend was now a tiny merman,” So I take it this means you do know how to swim?” He joked.

Flustered, Karl covered his face with his hands, “That’s the first thing you’re going to say to me?!” God Karl couldn’t believe how much of a nimrod his boyfriend was. 

“Just trying to lighten the mood” He chuckled. It still felt like his eyes were deceiving him and he started to reach out to Karl only to pause right before actually touching him when he saw Karl flinch away from him. “I would never hurt you, Karl,” he whispered, keeping his hand right in front of Karl.

Slowly reaching out he put his hand on Sapnaps finger marveling at the size difference, “It’s not you I’m scared of, it’s just your height” 

Sapnap felt his breath hitch at the feeling of Karls little hand on him, looking closely he could even see little webbing between his fingers, “What, jealous that I’m taller?”

“Oh shut up nimrod!” Karl lightly smacked Sapnaps finger and gasped in surprise when he nudged him back in retaliation. 

“So, a fish huh, don’t you like need water or something?” His eyes squinted in concern as he stared at Karl as if he was about to drop dead.

“To stay in this form I need to remain wet, otherwise I’ll transform back, my scales will probably dry out soon enough”

“Do you want to? Stay in that uh form I mean, If you want, I can run a bath for you?” 

“Yeah actually, that would be really nice.”

Surprised that Karl agreed Sapnap perked up cupping his hands around Karl but not touching him just yet, “Is it okay if I carry you?”

Karl had never been held by a human before but if he was going to do this he was glad it was someone he trusted as much as Sapnap, “Yeah.”

Constantly looking at Karls’ face to see if there was any discomfort he slowly began to close his hands underneath the little fish. Until Karl was fully cupped safely in his hands, where he brought him against his chest for extra support, “I’m gonna stand now, okay?” He watched as Karl clung onto his thumb for support and nodded his head in confirmation.

With that Sapnap slowly stood up, thankful that he was still wearing shoes as he made his way around the broken glass on the floor, making a reminder to clean that up later. Careful not to jostle his little passenger he slowly made his way to the bathroom. Once inside he gently moved Karl to one hand, using his other to get the bath set up. 

He absentmindedly started to stroke Karl’s tail while waiting for the bath to fill, awed by how much trust Karl put into him. Karl may not have got a choice in Sapnap finding out his secret, but Sapnap was determined to do anything to show his boyfriend that he could be trusted with this.

Eventually, the tub was filled and Sapnap gently slid Karl into the water, “Into the tub for you.” As soon as he said that he felt water hit his face and looked to see Karl giggling before swimming under the water.

Sapnap couldn’t help but watch in amazement as Karl expertly glided through the water, truly able to see for the first time just how pretty his tail was as it seemed to sparkle underwater. It also looked like Karl just enjoyed swimming and it made Sapnap ponder when the last time he got to transform was. 

He waited until Karl popped his head above water to praise him, “You’re really fast underwater.” The blush that coated Karls tiny face was just an added bonus as he complimented his boyfriend.

“I’ve never really gotten to test out how fast I can go” 

“Well let’s see then,” that was all the heads up Karl got before his boyfriend’s hand approached the water ready to chase him down. 

Karl squealed before diving back under the water, and the chase was on. It was a little difficult for Karl to avoid capture while stuck in a smaller area but he was able to hold his own very well and the few times Sapnap almost got him he was able to slip out of his grasp and keep the chase going. 

It wasn’t until Sapnap used both hands to fully cup around Karl and scoop him out of the water completely did he admit defeat,” Sapnap,” Karl whined, “that’s cheating,” he pouted.

“Maybe this will make up for it,” He brought Karl up to his face and began to pepper kisses all over his body, delighting in Karl’s laughter and little squeals. He finally backed off, leaving Karl to catch his breath in his hands, minuscule chest breathing heavily as he did.

“Fish or not, I love you, Karl,” Karl didn’t think his face could get any redder at this point and he used his hands to cover his face before gesturing for Sap to come closer.

At his request, Sapnap leaned in closer, going cross-eyed as he watched Karl press a kiss to the tip of his nose, “I love you too, Sapnap.”

[maggotzombie]

needy ; henry cavill

CONTINUATION: UNTAMED

PAIRING: Henry Cavill x Reader (fem) SUMMARY: You want Henry to pay attention to you but he keeps playing WoW and TikTok give you some ideas. TIME PERIOD: April of 2020 (midst of the rona [covid-19] quarantine craziness); WORDS: 3,2k TW: fluff, teasing, smut, dirty talk, daddy kink, punishment. A/N: I’m writing this very late, I know. Also, this is my first take on a few subjects I’m not comfortable with (such as daddy kink and punishment), so bear with me, please!! 🙃 This gif (nsfw) was a reference for this 3,2k smutt lol thanks @could-be-cavill​ for my inspiration. — 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

HENRY IS playing World of Warcraft.

Again

He’s playing that stupid game again.

Usually, I’m not bothered by that. He rarely has time to indulge himself with it anyway. But I usually have something to do, too. Well, usually.

This quarantine is lasting an awfully long time and I’ve run out of things to do.

Here’s a list of what I’ve done so far:

I’ve reorganized everything (bookshelves, closet, cabinets, etc.);

Scrubbed every inch of the house to perfection (I still have a few scratches on my hands from the chemicals of the cleaning products);

Kal has never been this well-groomed before.

I’m honestly tired of watching TV and looking at my phone. Actually, I’ve been spending a lot of time on the device lately. All of this because of the persistent and annoying ads of an app called TikTok.

My biggest mistake was downloading it out of curiosity.

It. Is. Addictive. Simple as that.

I sigh softly, twirling a strand of hair on my index finger as I watch my lovely, brawny, and completely fuckable boyfriend from the sofa. He’s talking complete nonsense and sometimes even speaking loudly, with his blue eyes fixed on the screen instead of me.

Kal’s head is resting on my lap and he glances worryingly at his best friend when he raises his voice.

An idea pops up in my head (thanks to the aforementioned app) and I smirk. Henry doesn’t even blink as I place a hand on his shoulder, he’s one-hundred percent focused on that stupid game.

He frowns when I pop my head in between his arms. “What are you doing?” He asks, letting go of the mouse so I can go through. “What’s this?”

I smile, making myself comfortable on his lap while facing him. Finally some eye contact. Without a reply, Henry shakes his head and goes back to the game, adjusting me to not get in his way.

After a minute or two, it seems I’m not an obstacle at all. In fact, Henry is now shouting directly to my ear due to our position. A pout forms in my lips as I reassess the strategy and I nuzzle my face into his neck in thought, making goosebumps flash over his skin.

Oh.

As my soft lips brush against the crook of his neck, more goosebumps rise. Still testing the waters, I graze my teeth at the same spot. Suddenly, my boyfriend is very quiet and I can even hear the people he’s playing with on his headset.

Henry’s breath shallows when I plant a kiss on his weak spot; just below his earlobe.

“Stop it,” He whispers to me as his cock twitches against me.

“I don’t think you want me to,” I move his microphone away from his lips.

I push my tongue into his mouth boldly and I receive an appreciative moan back. I explore his mouth slowly but sensually and I can feel his hard-on starting to growl against my groin.

Suddenly he breaks the kiss and shoots me a warning glare, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I’m here,” He says after adjusting his mic. “Just got slightly distracted.”

Scoffing, I buckle my hips hard against his boner and Henry hisses at the friction.

“Y/N...” Henry whispers warningly with heavy breathing.

In response, I give him a smug smile before attaching my lips back to his neck. I slip my hands under his shirt and my boyfriend groans, contracting his muscles. As my eager fingertips brush against his hard and well-defined abs, my tongue darts out to caress the sweet spot under his ear.

Ignoring his scolding and protest, I take off his headset from his left ear and take his earlobe in between my lips. My man’s breath gets caught up in his throat and his hand grabs my hip to stop me from grinding against his hard cock.

“Fuck,” He curses through gritted teeth.

Confusion takes over his face as I climb down off his lap but then he tenses again when I kneel in between his legs. Hands flat on his thick thighs, I’m able to move it very little towards my goal before Henry grabs my wrists.

He throws the headset onto the keyboard carelessly and gets up from the chair, taking me with him. I giggle in amusement as he pins me down on the sofa, hands above my head.

“What are you doing?” Henry asks in all seriousness.

“I’m bored!” I say honestly, looking into his eyes with mischief. “Play with me!” I pout and open a smirk at his expression.

“I’m busy right now,” He points out and I ignore it by trying to kiss his lips. My boyfriend moves his head away from my reach and gives me a stern look. “Wait for your turn, kitten,” Henry says.

“Since when do kittens do what they’re told to?” I ask, raising my knee to rub against his crotch. “They do whatever the fuck they want to,” I purr, watching his concentration faltering for an instant.

My boyfriend blinks and shakes his head before growling. He pins my leg down with his knee and applies more of his weight on my wrists, making it a bit uncomfortable but without hurting me.

“This kitten will obey. Otherwise, daddy will punish her later,” Henry provokes back but it makes me all tingly.

“Hmmm,” I hum, trying to reach him once again. “How about now? I misbehaved, right?”

“Later,” He says pointedly.

Before I can say or do anything else, Henry lifts his weight off me and moves away. I sit on the sofa to see him sitting back in front of the computer, completely ignoring me.

I hiss at him, just like a cat, and he throws a smirk my way while putting his headset back on. Pissed off by the rejection, I get up and leave the room. By the time I reach the stairs to the second floor, I can hear the shouting about the game resuming.

First, I jump on our big bed and just scream my frustration on a pillow. Eventually, I lie onto my back and stare at the ceiling pondering what to do next.

I’m SO bored.

Then I strip down and get into the bathtub where I watch even more TikToks. Thirty minutes later, after the water got too cold, I step out of it and wrap a towel around my body. I am about to carry on my daily routine when another idea provided by the beloved app pops into my head.

Ignoring the fact that I’m leaving small pools of water at each step I take, I walk down the stairs. Henry is exactly where I left him: on the stupid computer, playing the stupid game and shouting stupid things to children.

Ugh!

He doesn’t acknowledge my presence as I stand at the foot of the staircase and I open my towel. Nothing yet. I remove it completely from my body and I’m still invisible. Praying for some good aim, I throw the wet towel at him.

I call it a strike as it lands on top of his head. Huffing to gather some patience, Henry takes the towel off of his head and slowly turns to look at me. From where I’m standing, I can see the change in his eyes.

Without saying a word, he closes the game and throws the towel onto the floor. He’s up from his chair and sprinting towards me in a heartbeat. I turn hot on my heels to run upstairs, but my boyfriend’s arms wrap around my waist as I’m about to climb the second flight of the stairs.

“Nuh-uh,” He says against my ear, trapping my body with his against the wall. “You wanted my attention,” He continues and I can feel his hand shuffling something on my lower back. “Now you got it.”

My hands struggle to find something to grab and I lose my breath as Henry plunges into me without so much as a warm-up nor a warning. He groans at the sensation of my walls squeezing him angrily and pulls my arms to my back, locking it so I can’t move.

“Ah! So tight, baby girl,” He whispers without moving.

I don’t reply and it makes him grab my face by my jaw and turn it to the side. Nuzzling my temple, he produces the sexiest sound ever into my ear.

“What happened? The cat got your tongue?” His baritone voice hits a new low.

I clench around him. “Jesus Christ, Henry,” I breath out, wiggling my backside towards him and inciting a new moan from him. “Touch me,” I plead.

“Where, kitten?” Henry asks, letting go of my arms. “Use your words,” One hand travels down to my clit while the other grabs my left breast. “Here or here?”

First, he toys with my nub, making me get wetter. Then, he squeezes my boob and pinches my nipple. I moan, pressing my forehead against the wall. Each move gives me different waves of pleasure, both very welcomed and appreciated.

“Kitten?” He calls when I don’t reply.

“Y-Yes,” I reply, already weak resting my head back on his shoulder.

“You’re such a tease, but it doesn’t go beyond that, huh?” My boyfriend chuckles, calling me out.

“Baby, please,” I whine, clutching to his wrist.

Chuckling slightly again, he nuzzles his face into my neck and starts to toy with my clit. Slowly, Henry starts to bulge his hips against mine, making both of us moan. His hand comes down from my boob to squeeze my hip as he intensifies his thrusting and the movement of his hand.

In a swift move, he peels off his shirt, discarding it to the ground. I take the opportunity to move my hips at my own pace now that he doesn’t have his hands on me. But his strong grip returns to my hips and I see stars at the speed of his thrusts.

The obscene sound of our bodies fills the house along with our lewd moans. My boyfriend slows down when I rest my head back against his shoulder, eyes screwed shut as little spasms start to run over my body.

“You take my cock so well, baby girl,” He says against my temple, breathing heavily. “You like my big, fat cock tearing you apart, don’t you, kitten?”

My lust-filled brain can barely register the question as his throbbing cock gently caresses my G-spot. However, a loud and tingly smack on my right ass cheek startles me, prompting my wrecked neurons to put together a reply.

“I fucking love it,” I say through gritted teeth, raising my head and glancing at him over my shoulder. “Go faster, daddy,” I moan and bite my lip. “I want to come all over your delicious cock.”

Henry’s eyes darken by my request and he grabs my jaw, crashing his lips against mine. Our kiss is a bit rough, tongues battling for control until he pulls my bottom lip with his teeth.

“I’ll make you come so hard that you’ll regret interrupting my game,” He tells me.

The excitement of his words gives me chills and I chuckle with mischief. “Do you promise?” I glance at him seductively, my teasing self returning to the game.

“Cross my heart,” My boyfriend reassures me, one of his hands sliding back down in between my legs. “Are you ready?”

The question is ignored as my brain is reduced to mush once again. More than before, my legs spread apart and my ass is up in the air for easy access. All of that balanced in my tiptoes that are becoming numb by now.

My pussy clenches around his cock as he massages my clit and restarts to pound into me senselessly. I moan, feeling my orgasm close. Henry groans louder, throwing his head back as his hips crush against my ass, the slapping sounding immoral and loud like both of us.

His hands finally give some attention to my boobs, kneading both of them. Like an expert, he teases my hard nipples, making me shiver from pleasure and I reach down to rub myself as I feel the first sparkles of the orgasm.

Lips come in contact with the sensitive skin of my nape and I start to lose it. “Oh, my God,” I breathe out, rubbing my clit faster. “D-Daddy,” I stutter as my toes start to curl up.

“Yes, kitten. Come all over daddy’s cock,” Henry growls into my ear, fucking me harder.

“I’m so close,” I whisper, completely out of breath. “Ah!” My moan reaches a note higher when he takes over and starts to rub my clit again.

Both his hand and hips move at an absurd fast pace and I literally see stars, coming hard on his cock. My legs buckle and Henry catches me before I fall without stopping his movements. My pussy clutches him so hard that I bet he’s gonna come anytime soon.

“Aaaah! Shit.”

My eyes are screwed shut and I squeeze my thighs together. It makes my pussy tighter around Henry’s girthy shaft, making him moan, but he still doesn’t stop thrusting hard into me nor rubbing my clit. I try to move his hand away just to fail miserably.

“Come on, kitten,” He pants, holding me against his body. “I know you can do it.”

“Oh, Henry!” I nearly shout as all my muscles tense up before becoming jelly.

I come once again and my thighs feel wet. Henry finally slows down his thrusts before sliding out of me. I feel the bliss of the orgasm and, if it weren’t for his strong arms secured around my waist, I’d fall to the ground.

“You did so well, baby girl,” My boyfriend praises me.

I try to catch my breath and rest my head against his chest. “Did you come?” I ask, feeling his hard cock on my lower back.

“Not yet,” He squeezes my overly sensitive boobs.

“What?” I frown, exhausted. “What is this?” I ask, looking at the water pool on the floor that I stepped on.

Henry chuckles, feeling amused by my confusion. “You squirted, kitten,” He explains.

This surprises me. “Seriously?”

I have never done this before.

“Yeah,” He muses, balancing my weight in between his arms. “Come on,” Henry says, nudging me to climb up the stairs.

“I can’t walk,” I giggle, looking up at him from over my shoulder.

His brow is furrowed as he looks down at me with his attentive azure eyes. Then, Henry flips me around and picks me up like a doll, throwing me over his shoulder. I gasp at the slap he lands across my ass but he quickly makes it up by spreading kisses on my thigh.

The air is knocked out of my lungs once again when he throws me onto the mattress. I look up at the Greek God boyfriend that I have and smirk, running one foot over his torso. He pushes my leg down and hovers over me, taking my lips possessively in a heated kiss. I moan into his mouth and my hands slide down from his back to squeeze his ass.

However, Henry takes both of my hands and pins it down above my head. “Keep it there,” He orders. “Do not move it.”

Biting my lips, I nod while looking into his eyes. In a swift move and still pinning my hands above my head, he flips me on the mattress. A quiet squeal followed by a giggle escapes my lips and I wiggle my ass, adjusting myself in the new position. Henry kneads my butt cheeks as I feel his lips on my back and I sigh, feeling the familiar chill running down my spine once again.

He goes lower and lower until he isn’t holding my hands anymore. Bending my knees slightly, my boyfriend makes me pop my ass up, exposing my pussy to him. I let out a long and obscene moan as I feel his mouth latch onto my very sensitive core.

Henry’s tongue is merciless. He devours my pussy, licking all my juices and flicking my clit with expertise. My hands clutch at the comforter in pleasure and I moan at the vibration of his groan, pumping himself while eating me out.

“B-Baby, I’m gonna…” I start, feeling the wonderful sensation building up again. Henry simply hums and starts to massage my clit with his thumb. “Fuuuck,” The shaking begins and, in a matter of seconds, I come hard on his mouth.

Another appreciative moan comes from my man while he licks me clean. This time, he has to hold my thighs tightly so I don’t move.

My breath is rapid and I’m still feeling the aftermath of my third climax when Henry pushes into me. I instantly clench around him a bunch of times, my walls too sensitive from the intense activity it's experiencing.

“Fuck, kitten,” Henry moans into my ear, lying on top of me. “If you keep doing that, I won’t last long.”

I try to say something, but my brain is so overwhelmed by now that I can’t put together a simple phrase. And, if it was bad before, it gets worse as he starts to thrust. He picks up the speed quickly and, once again, the slapping sound of his hips hitting against my ass echoes in the room.

Henry’s moans and panting in my ear are way too much to handle and I’m coming into his cock almost right after he began ramming into me. He slows down, prolonging my fourth orgasm and adding more fire to it by nibbling my earlobe and reaching down to rub my clit.

I can’t close my legs because one of his is right between mine, but I try my best. My eyes nearly get stuck on the back of my head as I come yet again. All my muscles feel sore from tensing up and relaxing repetitively and my throat hurts from moaning.

When I think I can’t take anymore, Henry tenses above me, his thrust becoming irregular and rougher. He moans, a very dirty moan, finally coating my walls with his warm, thick load. A few more pumps and he eases out of me, giving me a sweet kiss on the cheek before he rolls off me and crashes to my side.

My body is too exhausted to move and I just stay in the same position he put me in, trying to regain my breath. Aftershocks still make my limbs tremble then and there and I feel numb.

“That was awesome,” Henry says, trying to catch his breath too. “Baby?” He asks when I don’t say anything. “Are you okay?” His hand feels cold against my skin.

“You’re a pussy destroyer,” I breathe out with my eyes closed, making him laugh.

“You squirted again,” My boyfriend points out, feeling very proud of himself.

“I figured I would,” I say, trying to move only to moan at the discomfort coming from between my legs. I end up rolling to the side, resting my back against his chest. “I won’t be able to sit for days.”

“That’s what you get from interrupting my game,” Henry says playfully, squeezing my boobs.

“Oh, I’ll do that more often, then,” I tease, making him laugh again.

[jenojaemssss]

shii-take mushrooms! - k.dy

⇢ pairing: doyoung x fem!reader

⇢ word count: 1.6k

⇢ genre: fluff?

⇢ warnings/a.n: children. and cussing. i like children, i really do. they just scare me.

⇢ in which doyoung says a not-so-nice word in front of his daughter, and you try playing it off. as part of the "previously on" series.

➢

Doyoung glares at the figure standing behind his door with slanted eyes. He looks mildly disgusted, and you’re not sure if it’s because his daughter is covered from hair to shoes in strawberry jam, or because you’re standing in front of him with eyebags deeper than the sea.

“Please, Doyoung, I have a really important work meeting today, and I need you to watch her for like, 3 hours tops!” you beg him, eyes pleading the man in front of you.

He sighs and takes in your polished attire. Wherever it was you were going to must be top priority, seeing that you were decked out in the most business looking outfit he’s ever seen you in.

“I lost track of time prepping for the presentation that I somehow forgot it was today, so I didn’t call your mom beforehand and now she’s busy and-”

“-and now you’re here because my mom told you I had today off,” he cuts you off before looking at the little girl.

She’s looking at you with a glimmer in her eyes; the same glimmer that her dad used to have when he looked at you. She’s everything like him: from the way she talks, to her sassy attitude, to the way she pokes fun at her uncles.

You smile back down at her and look up to Doyoung with a small, apologetic smile on your face. His stone face turns soft when he sees her turn and smile up at him, lips smeared with the sticky red substance.

“In all seriousness, I really need this promotion, Doyoung. If I get this job, I won’t have to send her to your mom’s all the time anymore.” His face softens further. He knows how hard it was on you, working until late hours of the night to provide a nice environment for you two’s daughter, but you’ve been working a little too hard lately.

His mom has been on his ass for weeks about helping you find a more stable job; one that doesn’t require you to stay in for overtime almost every work day until almost midnight. She didn’t want you overworking yourself, which to her despair is exactly what you’ve been doing.

If you get this promotion, you can finally start working from home with more set hours. You’ll be able to spend more time with your daughter.

Doyoung looks at the girl lovingly and sighs, melting at her jam covered face once again. It really doesn’t matter that he and you ended things; she was still his little girl and he would do everything in his power to see her gummy smile.

So, he nods and bends down, picking up his daughter into his arms. He uses his thumb to swipe some of the jam off her mouth and you gratefully hand him a wet wipe that was already speckled with pink.

“Hi sweetie,” he grins at your daughter, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She giggles and throws her arms around his neck, choking him in a bear hug.

“I missed you, daddy!” she squeals and he chuckles in agreement.

“Me too sweet girl,” he squeezes her carefully, afraid that he might fracture her tiny bones.

You smile at the sight in front of you, knowing well that your daughter has been missing her dad for the past few weeks. He's been busy with work, similar to you, so he hasn’t been able to spend much time with his daughter either.

You notice his frail figure and an intense guilt washes over you. Today was probably his only day off for probably the next 2 months.

“Thank you Doyoung, I appreciate it,” you interrupt the conversing father-daughter duo. He looks at you warmly and nods again, holding the door open for you to come in and drop off your daughter’s belongings.

You trudge her things into the studio apartment, neatly decorated with many items you recognize from your old shared apartment. You haven’t stopped by in a while, but compared to the last time you’ve been here, the place seems chillier.

Your daughter and her backpack are softly placed on the couch, and the first thing she reaches for is her tablet. You send her a look and she puts it away with a frown. The little girl turns to her dad with puppy eyes; a special trick she learned from her uncle Haechan.

“Honey, you shouldn’t be looking at screens too often,” Doyoung says, petting her hair. He sits down next to her and begins helping her dig through the backpack in search for other things to occupy her with.

“Or else you’d end up like mommy and daddy with terrible vision,” you add. It’s your turn to pat her head and Doyoung chuckles at your comment, nodding along. He pulls out a coloring book and holds it in front of the two of them, fake-gasping at the newfound activity.

“I’m gonna go get us some crayons and colored pencils for this, okay?” he looks at his daughter, who’s filled with joy. She eagerly nods and he gets up, going into his kitchen for the supplies. Your little girl gets up and runs after her dad, poking her head around whatever he was looking into.

You check your watch and decide it’s your time to leave for your meeting. Another 10 minutes here and you might arrive exactly on time, which is something you’re praying doesn’t happen.

“Baby,” you call out to your daughter.

“Yeah?” you hear two voices call back. You turn to see both heads raised to face you, but the bigger (and dumber) one ducks down. Doyoung is blushing furiously at his old habit and tries to distract himself from embarrassment by intensely scurrying for the damned art supplies.

You’re just as shocked, but do a better job at covering up your embarrassment. “Babygirl, mommy has to get going,” you specify.

Your daughter runs back to give you a hug and bids you goodbye. She raises up a fist and you bump it, followed by a “blah la lah.” It’s something she picked up from Big Hero 6, a movie the three of you used to watch together.

While this takes place, a loud ‘bonk’ comes from Doyoung’s general directions.

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath, but the curse is loud enough to reach your daughter’s innocent ears.

“What does-” your daughter begins, but something louder cuts her off.

“-TAKE MUSHROOMS!” you exclaim, clapping your hands in front of her. “We’ll have hotpot with shiitake mushrooms when mommy gets back later, isn’t that right daddy?” you glare in Doyoung’s general direction.

He stumbles over his response a couple times, but lets out a muffled “yeah” after a long moment.

In the meanwhile, your daughter bursts with excitement at the mention of hotpot. She begins telling you about what she wants in the soup and what broth she prefers. Your lips can’t help but form a smile at your daughter’s happiness when food is mentioned.

Speaking of food, your stomach exerts a low grumble, but it’s loud enough for your ears only, which you thank the heavens for.

Doyoung eventually gets back from the kitchen with the coloring utensils, his face still as red as the crayon he was holding. To your rescue, he approaches with a granola bar hiding in his pocket.

“I dropped the box on my head, but I wanted to get you something to eat,” he awkwardly shrugs and it’s your turn to blush.

Doyoung remembers your terrible habit of being a worrywart and not consuming any food before an important event, so he caught the feeling that you’re probably starving.

Doyoung notices the pink tint on your cheek and feels satisfied with his doing. He wishes you good luck and your daughter copies, jumping up and down in the process.

As you thank the two of them, your focus returns to Doyoung and you send him a slightly warning look. “Let’s make sure we keep our mouths clean today, okay?”

The widest smile plasters on your face when Doyoung flinches, and you finally exit the premises, leaving Doyoung and your daughter to their coloring.

As the door shuts behind you, Doyoung lets out a small sigh and turns to his daughter who’s now facing him. Though to you, she is everything like him, Doyoung sees no resemblance. Instead, he sees you in the little girl: from her smile to her nose, her voice and her hair. He sees her as a mini Y/N, and he loves it.

As he and his daughter sit down to begin their coloring ordeals, he can’t help but think about the meal plan you’d set. He wonders if you were serious, but before more thoughts begin to consume him, a small voice interrupts.

“What do you want in your hot pot, daddy?” his daughter looks up at him with wide eyes.

This is going to be hard to ignore. Maybe having a nice family dinner wouldn’t be too bad.

“I’ll take anything in it,” he begins.

“Except cucumbers,” the two finish in unison. An eruption of giggles burst out of the little girl at the synchronized speech, and Doyoung can’t help but melt at the bundle of joy. He smiles wide and watches her continue marking the page with colorful strokes of pencil and crayon.

Doyoung mentally begins preparing a grocery list for the night, adding everything needed for a steaming hotpot onto the growing list. He ends it with the addition of the previously mentioned shiitake mushrooms and grins, excited to share a meal with you and his daughter tonight.

“C’mon sweetie, let’s get ready to go shopping,” he holds out a hand and lifts his daughter up, putting on her jacket.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Another love by Tom Odell. Tell me that Bucky wouldn't send this to his girl when things were getting difficult for him emotionally

ANOTHER LOVE

a/n: no idea if this was meant to be a prompt but i couldn't stop thinking about it so i wrote it lmao

pairing: Bucky X Reader

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

Life hasn’t been the fairytale either of you deserved. Things just don’t turn out as perfect as they to in movies and sometimes you fall for the wrong person, too deep probably, and it makes you feel like you will never find the right one.

After everything Bucky had been through he fell for a woman for the first time in decades and though he put all his faith in her, she wasn’t the right person for him. He was ready to give her everything he had and love her with all his heart, but she didn’t want it. She didn’t deserve it. Leaving him heartbroken when she left, thinking that maybe loving someone and be loved by someone is just not meant to happen to him.

Then you came into his life.

Being a nurse working beside Dr. Cho at the Tower, you ended up stitching him up quite a lot following his missions. Bruises, cuts, even bullet holes, you’ve seen them all on his body and though Bucky hated to appear vulnerable, you somehow made him feel at ease when you were cleaning him up, humming whatever song you had stuck in your head that week.

You bonded over music from day one. As a person who likes all kinds and genres, you were his number one source when it came to modern music. You made him Spotify playlists every week, making him listen to the best songs in your opinion and he listened to them all. Not just because they really were good songs but because he was ready to do anything you asked him to. You had him wrapped around your finger in a blink of an eye, but when things were about to take a turn, he backed out. At first, you just thought you misread the signs and that he didn’t even like you like that. But then you heard Banner and Nat talk about how Bucky keeps talking about you and that everyone in the Tower thinks that he is in love with you. So instead of letting him get away with it, you confronted him.

That was when he told you about the woman that hurt him before. The way she broke his heart and made him think that he is not worthy of being loved. And you listened to his every word patiently, though you wanted to smack that woman so badly for hurting such a wonderful man.

“Just because she couldn’t appreciate your love, it doesn’t mean that you are not worthy of receiving or giving love. Because you are,” you told him as your hands reached for his metal one, taking it between your palms. You knew how insecure he felt about it and you wanted him to know that you loved every part of him, even the ones that wasn’t entirely made of him.

“I don’t know if I’m the right guy for you, Y/N,” he shook his head, doubting his worth once again.

“You are, because I want you. And I know that you’ll try your best to be the right guy for me even though you already are,” you chuckles and reaching up you cupped his face in your palm.

That day you made a silent promise to take it slow and just find your own pace with each other. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, loving is already complicated enough, but Bucky’s state of mind was an even messier issue. However you refused to give up on him.

Weeks went by and your usual routine started to change slowly. Bucky didn’t only come to see you when he had an injury to take care of, you went on dates or just hung out after your shift. You were always there when he returned from a mission and he never let you leave the Tower without him, he always walked you home, even if he had work to do.

Everything seemed to be on track. Right until one stupid fight ruined everything.

Sam always had a flirty manner in his act. He liked to chit-chat, compliment you, but it was always just friendly. However, when one day he and Bucky returned from a mission, both of them with quite a few injuries, they ended up under your hands as you worked on their wounds, cleaning and bandaging them.

“Darling, your hands are gifts from God,” Sam sighed when you applied a cooling gel to one of his burns before you covered the injured skin. “Or maybe you are an angel yourself,” he then added, making you chuckle.

“Stop it, I’m just doing my job.”

“And you are so damn good in it. I’m one lucky man,” he grinned at you, but before you could say a word, Bucky jumped off the stool beside him and marched out of the room as if he was just triggered into being the winter soldier again. The door shut close behind him, he walked out without even glancing in your way and he left you all confused. You exchanged a look with Sam before you finished up his wounds and mumbling an apology you went after the grumpy soldier that just left.

Stepping out of the room you spotted him at the end of the hallway, sitting all by himself.

“Hey, why did you leave?” you asked, sitting next to him.

“No reason,” he answered without even looking at you, keeping his gaze at the tiled floor.

“That’s so not true. I know something is wrong. Please, just talk to me!” you pleaded, placing a hand to his arm, but his eyes snapped at it right away and made you think you did something wrong.

“I was just not in the mood to listen to Sam flirting with you,” he hissed.

“Then why didn’t you just tell him to stop?” you asked, knitting your eyebrows together.

“Because… I don’t have the right to act all possessive over you.”

Technically, he was right. You weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but everyone in the Tower knew you were something. You wanted him to be possessive, to make men stop flirting with you because he thought of you as his. You were so close to it too, but now you felt like you were going backwards again.

“Well, you can easily have the right, Bucky. You know that,” you told him, praying he would take the desperate hint you’d been trying to send him these past weeks.

“Y/N, stop,” he breathed out, closing his eyes.

“Why? Would it be so hard to be more than just friends? Am I not good enough for you?” you asked, speaking thoughts you’ve been harboring these past times even though your rationality knew they weren’t true.

“You know that’s not the case!” he snapped, standing from his seat so you did the same. “It’s me, Y/N. I’m the problem and you know that.”

“You are not a problem, Bucky! How many times do I have to tell you that? I’m not the one who broke your heart, I want to be whatever you need me to be, Bucky, but you are shutting me out! I’m getting tired of telling you the same thing over and over again, because you don’t seem to be listening!” you replied angrily, letting out all the pent up tension you’ve been carrying around. “I feel like I’m talking to a wall, you just keep ignoring what I’m saying. And I want to be patient with you, I would do anything to make you happy, but I can’t do this if you don’t cooperate with me.”

You turned around and marched back into the room before he could say a word, leaving him completely stunned and in panic that he is losing you.

That day you went home without him for the first time in months. Not because he wasn’t there to walk you home, Bucky waited for you at the hall, but then he was informed that you left early. It was a clear message to him that he needed to get his shit together if he didn’t want to lose you.

Eating all your feelings away, you sat on your couch that night with your favorite ice-cream, watching reruns on TV, hoping to take your mind off of a blue eyed soldier, but you didn’t succeed. He was all you could think about and the thought of losing him made you want to cry yourself to sleep and never wake up.

When your phone’s screen lit up with a message, you were shocked to see a text from Bucky. Only that no words were in it, just a link that led you to a song on Spotify.

Another Love by Tom Odell.

Even though you knew the song well, you still listened to it, tears rolling down your cheeks as you focused on the lyrics, because you knew it had a message from Bucky. A quite emotional one. You listened to it again and again as the singer sang about feeling like he put way too much of his energy into another love and that he fears that he won’t love his current one the way she deserves. You knew that this was exactly how Bucky felt like, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to give you everything you wanted because he had been hurt so badly before and it broke your heart to know that he was ready to live a lonely life because of his misbeliefs.

Eager to see him as soon as possible, you grabbed your bag and was about to head out, but when you tore the door open you found the man you were looking for already standing on your doormat.

“Bucky!” you breathed out with teared up eyes. “How long have you been standing here?” you asked, holding the door open for him to come in.

“Since you started listening to the song,” he answered with a soft, tired smile. “Like a hundred times,” he then added, making you chuckle even through your tears. “Y/N, I’m sorry for the way I acted today. It’s just so hard for me to put myself out there again. I know that you’re not her, that you’re different, but still, I can’t help but think that it will happen again,” he told you, his voice dying down at the end. Stepping closer you cupped his face in your hands as you stared back at him.

“Putting yourself out is never easy, but you have to do it sooner or later, Bucky. And I promise you, I won’t do the same thing that she did. She didn’t deserve your love, she didn’t deserve you. Don’t punish yourself for her faults,” you pleaded as he leant into your touch, his eyes fluttering closer, his thick eyelashes fanning on top of his skin under his eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” he whispered, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

“You are not a mess,” you shook your head. “But even if you are, we can be a mess together,” you chuckled and his eyes finally opened as a small smile stretched across his handsome face.

“That sounds good,” he nodded softly as he leant closer and rested his forehead against yours. “Will you wait for me? To fix myself so I can be the man you deserve?” he asked, so out of breath as if he just ran a marathon.

“I’ll be right here, listening to all our playlists until you’re ready,” you chuckled softly, as he smiled back at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek as a silent promise.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[yanderesimps]

Destined torture

Yandere Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

(Warnings: Unrequited love, forced relationships, forced intimacy, angst, obsession, soulmates AU)

❁-----------------------------------------------❁

It wasn't easy to avoid the blonde when you're the childhood friend of one of his main targets for bullying. Izuku Midoriya, the boy from across the street with a somewhat concerning all might addiction.

You two met in the park one day, stumbling over as you loomed over the greed haired boy as he played in the sandpit. The two of you had sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, always keeping about a meters distance between yourselves as you eyed each other quietly as shy children do.

Until you mumbled about how you liked his all might action figures and his eyes lit up like the night sky, filled with unimaginable excitement. It had all gone up from there of course but now instead you'd both graduated from harmless kiddies to slightly less harmless adolescents.

That of course meant that you had the pleasure to often have deal with the rampaging temper and relentless bullying of a certain Katsuki Bakugou. That wasn't to say that he'd always be such a brat, only ever giving you the brunt of his lashings when he would spy you with Izuku in the school halls.

For years he mercilessly hassled Izuku and it had only ever gotten worse when your classmates had begun to develop their quirks. Izuku, much to his dismay, had to face the bitter truth that he was indeed quickless.

You were almost afraid that your quick would've widened the divide between you two but it somehow in a weird way brought you two even closer if they was humanly possible. By all means, your quick wasn't flashy and explosive like Bakugou's but it had been noteworthy, nothing that get you into UA but respective nevertheless.

When Bakugou would begin his precise schedule of tormenting Izuku, you were steadfast in defending your best friend much to Bakugou's annoyance.

But when you spied Bakugou in the halls today, you'd expected the worst. Your lips twisted into a blatent frown which could make even Endeavour's fire run cold.

Bakugou approached, his hands shoved into his baggy trouser as he stood in front of you, his delinquent friend thankfully no where to be seen. You two stood in raging silence that seemed to ring louder in your ears that your thoughts of contempt for the boy in front of you.

Pulling a hand out of his trousers, you almost expected a bloody nose but soon found yourself staring at a crinkled envelope. You stared at the letter for a few moments before darting your unimpressed glare back to meet the red pupils that stated right back at you.

"Is this a new tecnique? Come to defeat me through the power of paper cuts?" You tittered, resisting the growing earge to swat the paper from his hand.

The blonde clicked his tongue at your sarcasm, thrusting the letter closer to you. "It's an invitation, dumbass, my birthday is next week and the hag made me give you this since she thinks we're friends or whatever"

"Oh my goodness! Why didn't you just say so? I'll make sure to put this in my files, right in the "remember to burn" section" You sang in fake glee, your mocking joyful expression soon falling back into its usual scowl when in the company of the blonde.

Bakugou's eye seemed to twitch slightly at your works and you could practically smell the caremel scent in the air heating up. Surprising, he didn't even say anything and simply turned on his heel to leave. "Well that was...boring" you said with almost a huff. In the past, making bakugou angry was something you actively avoided like the plague but now? It was nothing more than a fun family activity.

So when you didn't feel the flesh of your cheeks burning from 3rd degree burns it was nothing less than a shock. You could almost felt the bright heavens radiating down upon you. Had katsuki bakugou finally developed an actual personality that didn't involve being a dick?

Of course not.

But that still didn't explain why he was inviting you to a fucking birthday party.

It practically struck you like a brick when you realised what this meant.

Bakugou was now one year older

It was the day that everyone seemed to yern for. The day of the mark. A mark that would tell you the name of your soulmate. A mark that would appear on your 16th birthday.

It was bakugou's birthday.

He was turning 16 in one week.

And all that was just more gloating material.

There were quickless people which was bad enough. If you were quickless, you were seen as weaker, lesser and not normal but having no soul mark? It was practically a death sentence. You were seen as unlovable, unlikeable and unwanted. You were abnormal and disgusting. And ever since a certain blonde had developed a knat for explosions and Izuku hadn't, never having a soulmark was the first bullet in Katsuki's rifle when it came to his conquest of making Izuku's life a living nightmare.

And now for the next few months until your birthday it was all you two were going to hear about.

Heaven's gates swung closed right then and there and the pits of hell threatened to swallow you right there.

"Y/n"

You suddenly snapped out of your inner dialogue to see Deku approaching you with a slightly worried expression. Perhaps you'd been spending too much time standing silently while imagine your future months of torment from bakugou.

You pulled an eneasy grin and rubbed the back of your neck nervously. "No it's fine! Just fine!"

The boys face lit up with his classic smile that made your own heart warm. "great! Wanna get lunch then?" Clasping his arm you nodded with a stark grin. "Let go. I'm starving"

....

...

..

"What's you favorite type of coffin, Izuku?"

_______

There was no amount of pleading that would have gotten you out of this situation, no matter how hard you pleaded to your mother. She didn't even care that your funeral would be expensive.

So now here you were.

In a dress.

Your hair dolled up.

Make-up.

Planning out your 13th reason why.

Standing outside bakugou's home with a present clasped in your hands, the decently loud chatter within taughting you like the drums of War but then again you were practically about to dive into the trenches.

Your numb finger pressed the doorbell, your heart seemed to stutter at the sound of a nearing voice.

"Katsuki! Open your presents later!!" screeched a voice of whom you could only assume was miss Bakugou. The door opened the woman in front of you visable brightened as she glowed down upon you.

"Y/n, what a pleasant surprise, get in here! Katsuki's in the back garden" The woman's mood had practically done a full 180° at a mere glance of your slightly shaky form. "I'll take that, now go in and have fun with the others" She hummed with a wild smile as she took the neatly wrapped present from your sweaty palms. You merely nodded in response, finding that your throat had closed in on itself making it impossible to even swallow down your initial fear.

You could hear the distant cheering, chatting and occasional parent's voice as you walked further into the house, closer to the clear glass slide door that revealed the decoration littered back garden.

There only kids you could see were the possy that would always surround the blonde haired boy, the occasional guy you'd know from class and almost ever girl that would drop to their knees in the hope of katsuki bakugou noticing them.

Most never glanced at you, some glared at you in disgust but one particular pair of red eyes were fixated on you the moment you stepped in the garden.

You nearly cried tears of joy that the make up had taken so long since it seemed you'd actually missed the majority of the festivities. "In and out. This'll all be over soon" You hummed, trying to pathetically console yourself.

You'd made a beeline for the corner with the least amount of people, seating yourself on a lawn chair before quickly pulling out your phone, ideally hoping that you'd allowed to spend the next hour just lazily scrolling through your phone before grabbing a slice of cake and leaving.

Sadly, that wasn't what fate had instore. You looked up from your phone screen as a shadow suddenly loomed over you. "What? Not even gonna give me a happy birthday" Bakugou sneered, glaring down at you. Your own expression twisted into the perfect rendition of what the word "hatred" meant. Your eyes narrowed, your nose crumpled and lips fell into a neat frown. "I'm sure you'll find a way to survive without my half heart congratulations"

The boy above you nearly smiled at your words as he clicked his tounge and sat on the chair next to you. "Not even curious to find out who my soulmate is?" You raised and eyebrow but your expression remained the same. You took a mere glance at his wrist, only to see it covered before returning your gaze. That seemed to satisfy the boy in front of you as his grin widened visably.

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm just praying for the poor soul that is destined to be with you for the rest of their days"

Bakugou just laughed and then left, leaving you in a puddle of confusion. He should've already gotten his soul mark, so why wasn't he parading it around like he did with everything?

You didn't give it another though, returning to your phone for the next while and brushing off the unsettling feeling the crawled up your spine.

__________

It wasn't surprising that they waited for the big reveal after bakugou had blown out his candles. You were just mildly aggrivated that such torture was continously being forced upon you rather than just letting you go home.

Everyone had crowded around the table where the cake sat. You, for some reason, found yourself stood at the corner of the table nearest to bakugou who stood in the center alone as the other surrounded the other sides.

Ms Bakugou had placed a hand on your shoulder and who you looked up to ask her why she was so clingy, she merely silenced you with a toothy smile.

She seemed to be excited about something.

Everyone had begun a countdown as katsuki raised his hand to everyone, lightly gripping his sleeve that hid the name of his future beloved.

You simply joined in hopes that the scene would go by faster, you didn't even look when he pulled down the arm of his jacket. You only notice the silence that followed after.

Then you noticed the eyes burrowed upon you.

The tightening grip on your shoulder.

Bakugou's glare.

How he was lightly smiling.

Then you noticed your first name neatly written into the flesh of his wrist.

The world seemed to slow then it had all soon went by like a blur just like you. Reality seemed to slip away at the seems and all you could do was slightly nod at the voices of congratulations and bright smiles of bakugou's parents. Disoriented, eyes pickled with tears as your dry throat struggled to find words.

Why was Katsuki still smiling?

__________

You'd been branded that day.

"Katsuki's girl"

Always finding a firery arm latched around your waist or shoulders as you were paraded down that halls like a spectacle for the ages.

You weren't allowed to speak to Izuku anymore or any guy for that matter. It wasn't like any of them risked their necks to talk to you anyway ever since Katsuki claimed you, broadcasting his mark like a trophy, a fitting collar that was locked around your neck.

You found yourself seated with the popular girl at every lunch when Katsuki didn't cling to you, people who you once years to be next to and chat with. Now it just felt empty. Empty conversation. Empty smiles. Empty happiness.

You would sometimes catch Izuku's eye in the hallways as a river of words went unsaid between you two. Then katsuki would tell him to "fuck off" before dragging you to class.

Life wasn't fun anymore. It wasn't even livable.

You barely realised how the month passed and your birthday was right around the corner. In fact, it was tomorrow.

"We'll have matching pairs then-? Hey, idiot, you listening to me?"

"Yes, Katsuki"

"good. I would hate to think you were ignoring me again" His palm gripped your chin like a face, tilting your head before he smashed his wet lips to yours. It was clumsy. It made you feel disgusting.

A hand sorely gripped your thigh, snaking up the helm of your school skirt. You didn't even bother to swat him away there days when he got handsy. It just encouraged him more to discipline you.

"I'll make sure to get you a great present, you'll love it" You knew what he meant by that, it made your heart drop and stomach threaten to heave.

Bakugou soon got up to leave with a group of his friends, leaving you to wallow in you own desperation. You glanced at your wrist. Katsuki had been baring down upon it every day to see if there was even an inclination that his name was appearing.

In reality it didn't really matter, it was just gloating privileges for him now, a way of bragging that you two were destined and you would be hs fine piece of ass for life.

You stroked the reddened skin, it had been sore lately.

"please..."

"Please...anyones name...just as long as its not his"

__________

"Come on, Y/n!"

"Show us!"

"Its obvious what it is gonna say"

You didn't even bother to check what your wrist said when you woke up this morning. Katsuki made you promise that you wouldn't and that you would wait for school.

So here you were, seated in the cafeteria with the majority of the class surrounding you a Katsuki. You could practically feel the pride radiating from him right now.

"go ahead, babe, show em"

And so you did, jutting out your arm and revealing the name to all around.

It was silent again. You expected squeals of jealously, congrats and awe.

Silence. It was louder than any sound imaginable at that moment .

You looked up from where your listless glare had fallen onto your lap to the wide eyes all baring down upon you.

"Oh...hard...luck, Bakugou"

Your eyes fell to your wrist.

"Izuku"

Perhaps fate wasn't so cruel after all.

[literate-lamb]

can I kiss you on the dancefloor?

Steve Rogers/Reader

One year into a relationship, yet still dancing in secrecy. Steve thinks he’s protecting you.

When a civilian and a hero fall in love, anything could go wrong. But not in the way Steve would have thought.

Or how the media play with the lives of superheroes.

►word count: 7.6k

► warnings(!): slight angst, alcohol

A/N: My gift to @blue-like-barnes for the Hoelentines Fic Exchange! I’m sorry it took some time, giftee. I didn’t expect this to turn into a monster (yikes). Thank you for hosting @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes ! Dividers from @firefly-graphics​ and GIF from Giphy

On his day-offs, Steve Rogers was a man full of disguises. 

When they first started, it was the baseball cap and thick-rimmed glasses. He liked it, it was simple, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone would notice. How could one not when his face was the one plastered in old war propaganda, in the museums commemorating his achievements, and even flashes on the telly when you walk past the local electronics store. 

Hence, it wasn’t a surprise when the tabloids posted a photo of him in his disguise, waiting at a crosswalk on a cold night. 

‘Captain America spotted on a midnight stroll’ came the next morning. It was taken after he was done walking you home, thankful they didn’t catch a glimpse of you.

“So capsicle, where were you off to last night?” Tony greeted him at breakfast, offending paper in hand. He unrolled it, opening and making a show of reading, displaying the front page for all seated to see. “Nice reading glasses, wasn’t aware you needed them.”

Striding into the room, Natasha came and snatched the tabloid. She gave it a critical eye, judging, before turning towards him. 

“Hmm, recycling disguises, Rogers? I’m disappointed.” 

Steve just groaned in reply.

The second time it happened, he had gone to the Black Widow herself for advice. He had expected sound advice coming from a former KGB spy who spent her paycheck on hair, but all he got was a stick-on mustache. Something about ‘needing to blend in rather than pointing the obvious’.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Steve, but at least it’s better than that nerd get-up,” she smirked.

You had liked it. Giggling every time he kissed you, the fibres tickling your lips. He had ‘a caterpillar’ on his upper lip as you called it. And Steve had learned to get used to the itch.

But it wasn’t long before his new look was the star in barbershops. 

‘Captain America’s new look takes the world by storm.’ They had caught him again in another paparazzi shot. Tony had teased him for days after.

He couldn’t shake it off easily, constantly reminded of it when he walked the streets. Seeing them on screens when he’s channel-surfing. Even when he’s training new recruits, his vision filled with a sea of unshaved cadets, their hairy upper lips a prominent fixture.

He knew he had to do something when Bucky and Sam came in one day sporting twin mustaches. 

He discarded the strip of fibre in the bin. Reminding to pay Natasha a visit.

The third time he decided, he seeked out the help of Scott Lang, who was a master in keeping out of sight during his burglary days. Scott had given him a black beanie and told him to grow out his facial hair. 

The beanie hid his golden locks and the beard made him look rugged. You loved it, your thighs quivered when it was him and you in the four walls of your room. Uncontrollable groans as he went down. ‘Beard burn’ you had called it. Whatever it was, he loved the sounds you let out.

Four months. That’s how long the disguise lasted. His longest disguise to date. 

Before he became a trend.

‘Captain America is the new style icon.’ The internet sleuths found out where he got it too. ‘The sale of Walmart beanies skyrocketed by 70% thanks to Captain America.’

Tony had bought everyone in the compound a black beanie for Christmas, including the receptionist.

“Our grandpa’s a trendsetter, who knew,” he announced. Steve had smacked the back of Tony’s head with the beanie before retiring the disguise.

Now, sitting in The Sleeping Cat, Steve had opted for aviators and a Nasa baseball cap. He still kept his beard after your pleads, and he liked the look, he admits. It was back to basics for him and this was one of the only places where he was safe from prying eyes. Afterall, it was in this very café where he had met you.

The Sleeping Cat was a quaint little thing, a hole in the wall in a quiet part of the city. Not many knew of its existence, the entrance obscure, a blink and you’ll miss it. Which made it all the more perfect for him. The baristas knew him and minded their own business, offering him a smile every time he visited. ‘You’re safe with us’ they seem to say. 

He could say the same about the patrons. Most that frequented were regulars like him, they seemed the same, looking for a place to get away from the overbearing world. They seemed to share an understanding, paying him no mind as if he was just another man they passed on the streets. And that’s how he preferred it. 

Just a boy from Brooklyn.

Ding!

The chime of the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Facing the door, he saw you, smiling as you came through.

This was the best part of his days. 

You had met Steve Rogers at the most unexpected of times.

Terminated from your previous job at a small gallery, dumped by an ex-boyfriend after a 2 year relationship, you were at an utmost low. To escape your roommates —in case of pitying or prying, but if you were honest with yourself, it was to escape your own humiliation— you left the apartment on weekdays under the guise of going to work. In reality, you were at The Sleeping Cat applying for jobs on your laptop.

It was during one of the afternoon hours when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning to your left, you were greeted by a pair of startling blues. They were bright but worn as if they’ve seen too many. Looking at the bigger picture, you took him in. Hair hidden under a cap, a sharp jaw and an equally sharp nose, and if you looked closely, you thought you could spot a few moles on his cheeks. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger to it.

Eyes fleeting to his lips, you realized he was actually talking.

“Huh?” 

“I was wondering if this seat’s taken?” He smiled, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite. He was clearly amused.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” you nodded, making room for his things. 

The following days, it became a routine and an arrangement. You would be at the café as early as the owner would allow, laptop in hand. While he would come in the afternoons in a different jacket each day, a sketchbook in hand. You would be propped up, sending application after application, praying for luck. While he would quietly sit, churning sketch after sketch, in a relaxed demeanour. 

Sometimes you would peek over your screen and watch him draw for a few minutes, lost in his strokes. When you look up, you’ll find his eyes locked with yours, and you’ll immediately reimmerse yourself behind the screen, embarrassed.

It was a comfortable routine. You came to expect him everyday. And on the days that he didn’t make it, you felt a bit forlorn looking at the empty seat. You both didn’t talk much, yet you were getting comfortable in his presence.

Until one day, he broke the silence.

“So, what is it that you do?”

You stared, dumbfounded. Looking around there wasn’t anyone nearby. 

“Were you talking to me?” you asked.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you’re always on your computer…” he trailed off.

“I’m an assistant curator at an art gallery— or, er, used to be,” you explained. “Long story short, I lost my job and now I’m looking for a new one, that’s why I’m here.”

He seemed to ruminate before replying, “So you know a thing or two about art?”

You both started a new routine; one with a lot of communicating. He would ask you about your mundane weekends and interests and in turn, you would ask about his. Except, he was anything but mundane. 

On the days he was absent, you learned Steve was away on a lot of ‘business trips’. When he returned, he had never failed to present you with a souvenir. From matryoshkas to sarongs, it was always a surprise accompanied by a tale.

“The pattern on the sarong is called a batik, and it’s amazing how they’re drawn using wax like a liquid crayon. It’s an interesting art form.”

Outside of your little routine, he was an enigma. You barely knew about the Steve outside of The Sleeping Cat. Sometimes he threw the names ‘Bucky’ and ‘Sam’ a lot —out of exhaustion— without giving away anything, remaining tight-lipped. While his mysteriousness should’ve been a cause of concern, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him, wanting to peel more of his layers, like the shell of a matryoshka. 

The routine went on for a few more weeks, with calls of interviews and business trips in between. Before you received a phone call.

“I got a job! At the Whitney!” you squealed, shaking his shoulders over the table, oblivious to the other patrons. Steve endured it, smiling. 

“Congratulations,” he said when you’ve calmed down. “I guess this is the last time I’ll be seeing you?”

You froze, high coming down, realization settling in. After a few weeks of secret meetings, of getting to know him, of having lunch together, of sharing laughs, you’ve come to see Steve as a good friend. And maybe, there was the birth of something more.

“Let’s exchange numbers,” you said, opening your phone. “This way, maybe we can hang out again. Have lunch sometimes?”

“I’d like that.” He smiled. 

And the rest was history.

Making your way towards The Sleeping Cat, you amused yourself with past memories. Memories from almost over a year ago. 

Steve had come to give a speech at the opening ceremony of an exhibition at the Whitney. Your first exhibition as a curator. An exhibition on art from the war times. When they had announced his title, a loud ‘oh’ was the only thing you could muster. 

The ‘ding’ of the bell resounded, announcing your arrival. Heading in, you saw a head perked up, beaming, baseball cap securing his golden locks and aviators hiding his mesmerizing blues.

This was the best part of your days.

But maybe, you were getting a little tired.

If someone were to ask you months ago if you were happy and content with your relationship, you would’ve replied with a swift yes in a heartbeat. No hesitation, no reservations, no doubt. Now, sitting in the same cafe, the same one you frequent on dates, the same one you both met in, you weren’t sure of the answer anymore.

As Steve gets up to order for you both, your eyes wander to his sketchpad. It was filled with sketches of random objects; the flower on the table, the pastries on display, sometimes the patrons of the cafe, and occasionally, you. 

“You’re my favourite subject, so far.”

It was not for the lack of love or the lack of affection. Steve was the most loving; loyal in so many ways, gentle when asked, and protective to a fault. Maybe the protectiveness was the cause of it all.

Staring at Steve’s back, your mind shifted to a memory from the past week, when your roommate pulled you aside from a get-together at the ice rink.

“Hey,” she called your name, taking a hold of your elbow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure, what’s up?” you followed her, leading you to the sides.

Her eyes conveyed her worry. It amplified with the chewing of her bottom lip, a nervous tick.

“Are you and Steve… okay?” she asked, her brows perked. “I’m not sure if you notice, but today, it’s full of couples.” 

You looked towards your group of friends. There was your roommate’s girlfriend tying her skates, your other roommate and her boyfriend talking to another couple —their friends— and they were all holding their significant other’s hand. Oh.

“I don’t want to throw you out of the loop, but there would probably be a lot of double skating involved today,” she said, widening her eyes, looking comical. “Do you want me to talk to Steve? Maybe I could convince him to come, y’know?” 

Out of your two roommates, she was the only one who knew of your paramour. Having walked in on you and Steve making out on the couch. She was sworn into secrecy, with the promise of autographs from all the Avengers. 

“Look, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I can handle skating alone, and you know why he can’t really come here with us,” you shrugged.

“Okay, but aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around? Don’t you want to shout to the whole world ‘I’m fucking Captain America!’” she flailed.

You shushed her, muffling her mouth with your gloved hand.

Part of the secret was how Steven Rogers was an engineered superhero. A superhero with many enemies, leading him to fear for his loved ones, and that included you.

You went into the relationship whole-heartedly knowing the challenges; discreet rendezvous, kisses in the dark, minimal contact in public. You were his secret and he was yours. It was for your own good, wasn’t it?

“What’s got your little head wrapped up?” Steve’s voice startled you, bringing you back to the café. On the table, two cups of coffee and a slice of cake was served.

“Hmm? Oh, just thinking about this party the museum’s throwing this weekend,” you took your cup, blowing, contemplating your next words.“Say, how about you and I, I don’t know, go as dates?”

Steve crunched his brows. “You know that’s a hard thing for me to do, especially with your colleagues around.”

“I know! But maybe… maybe, you can go in one of your disguises this time? Remember that one time we went to Central Park?”

Steve exhaled, he remembered that afternoon. It was the one-off that you both ventured on a date in the outdoors. 

Decked in his beanie, casually strolling through Central Park with you beside him. Although he was still wary, keeping his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to hold your hand. 

No one had recognized him; not the ice-cream man, not the kids running around, not the mothers pushing strollers. No one. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You leaned forward, pecking him on the lips multiple times. “Thank you!”

“You sure this looks convincing?”

“Trust me, punk. Grade A assassin here, thank you very much,” Bucky boasted while fixing the wig on his scalp, untangling the unruly strands.

Steve had sought Bucky for help, with the belief that assassins were good at hiding in plain sight (and maybe, he just didn’t want to go to Natasha twice). Bucky was also his most trusted confidant and he knew about you, Steve trusted him not to tell. But now looking at himself in the opposite mirror, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore. 

Long dangly tresses hung on the sides of his face parting in the middle, a trimmed beard leaving a bit of goatee, and to finish it off, Bucky dressed him in a checkered shirt consisting of random coloured squares. He looked like he just stepped out of the 60’s.

“Oh, wear these,” Bucky handed him a pair of large wire-framed glasses. “Done.”

Steve took a look in the mirror. A seedy pimp was the first thought that crossed his mind.

“Thanks Buck, I owe you one.”

“Sure Stevie, just bring me around next time on one of your dates, I’d like to meet her,” Bucky winked. “Or make it double.” He wagged his brows. “Like old times.”

Steve snorted.

“Okay, I got—“ Steve’s words halted when an alarm blared overhead. It demanded their attention.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, your presence is required in Prep Room six,” called the disembodied voice. “There’s been a breach of extraterrestrial energy in the airspace of Sweden.”

Steve exited and rushed through the hallways, Bucky following close behind. He made it through the living quarters, trudging to the training wing before entering one of the many prep rooms. 

“Nice costume, Cap. Halloween already?” Sam quipped. Almost everyone was present, they were equally amused.

Before anyone else could follow, Tony strided in immediately, grumbling. “Okay team, there’s been an E.T synthezoid putting holes in the ozone layer. I’ll fill you all in the quinjet. Suit up and meet me at the hangover in 10.”

Everybody gathered their equipment and hurried to leave, passing by him. Before Tony could, he took notice of Steve and did a double take. And then a third. 

“What’s with the pimp daddy get-up, Capsicle?” 

Steve huffed, ignoring the jab. “I have something that I need to attend. How important am I in this, Tony?”

“We need all hands on deck. We don’t really know what we’re up against, Fury’s still running recon,” Tony explained, squaring his shoulders. “Whatever it is you have, Cap. It can wait. Lives are at stake here.” With that, he left, not standing by for a response.

“Darn it,” Steve cursed, removing the glasses and the wig.

He left the prep room with his shield in hand. With one hand, he shot a text to you. He’ll make it up next time.

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Emergency mission

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Can’t make it, sorry

You switched the screen off, sighing. Around you, the party was in full swing. Invitees mingling with refreshments in hand, discussing the pieces on display tonight, and bidding on the pieces they find exquisite. Hors d’oeuvres and champagne were being served, brought around by servers on silver platters. You’ve been munching on them non-stop, grabbing one every time a server comes your way, needing something to occupy you.

Surrounding you, you’d see the occasional couple walking around, enjoying their time. The palms of their hands locked in each other’s as they navigate together, rarely straying afar. 

You clenched your hand, reminded of how empty it felt. 

It was inevitable, you were warned of this, you were told to expect this. Dating a superhero meant that he was never solely yours. You were sharing your boyfriend with someone, except that someone was the world. 

“Hiiii!” a shrill voice broke your thought, calling you by name. A blonde woman, followed by a brunette emerged from the gathering of art-goers, headed towards you. “It’s been a long while!”

“Hey! Yeah, it’s been awhile,” you waved, recognizing the two. 

When they reached you, you were aware of the slight tension in the air, leaving the three of you standing awkwardly. After all, these two were your ex-colleagues and you didn’t exactly leave the previous gallery on good terms. Tonight was a night with masks, it seemed.

“So, how are you two doing?” you decided to get it over with.

“We’re fine, everyone’s fine! But how are you? We heard you worked here now, pretty impressive,” the brunette —Claire— winked at you. You laughed.

“Yeah, it’s so nice seeing you again, and at the Whitney? The pay must be good, you know what I’m saying?” Hilda chimed, knocking her elbows with yours. You didn’t appreciate it but you endured.

 “Say, what are you doing over here far away? Why not you join us over there,” Hilda pointed, towards a mounted canvas at the end of the hall. It was occupied by two men in a discussion among themselves. “Chat a bit to catch up, a bit of art philosophical debate in between. What do you say?”

You contemplated her offer, not wanting to seem pretentious, but thought about the false flattery and ego-stroking that would sure ensue in their company. The thought of it drained you.

“It’s okay,” you waved them off nervously. “I have to call my boyfriend sooner, gotta check up on him and let him know I’m... alright.” You held up your phone, playing on convincing.

“Oh? He isn’t here tonight?” Claire seemed to feign worry. 

“No, he got caught up with something. He’s a busy man,” you cooked up an excuse. No one could know. 

“Okay… In that case, we’ll leave you to it. Maybe we’ll bump into each other sooner.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys soon.”

They waved before backing away into the mass of patrons. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in. 

While the interaction was unexpected, this was what you had to deal with when it came to the question of your relationship. The excuses, they became second nature to you. The lies. The deceit. Anything to protect Steve’s identity, and inadvertently, you.

Throughout the night, you mingled with any clients interested in a work of art, all the while stepping out of Hilda and Claire’s line of sight. You didn’t wish a repeat of the earlier evening.

When the crowd started dwindling, signalling the end of the night, you were relieved of your duties. You headed straight for the restrooms after, one getaway before leaving. You huddled yourself in a cubicle, locking it shut.

Seconds in, you heard the creak of the restroom door followed by the clicks of heels.

“Can you believe it? Someone like that got the chance of working here.” 

You recognized the nasally tone. It was Claire. 

“Yeah? Not like she deserves it. I mean look at her? Demure, slow. It’s like talking to a mouse. I bet she’s a prude too.” That was Hilda.

The gushing of the faucet muffled their voices, but their sharp words were clear as day, your ear catching every snark and hiss.

“And when she was talking about her boyfriend? He probably doesn’t even exist, it was just to get off our backs,” Hilda paused. “Last time I heard, her boyfriend dumped her. So, I guess she’s creating imaginary ones now.” 

They both cackled.

By now, you knew they were talking about you. Their words didn’t hurt as much, you knew the colour of their hearts beneath the masks. But was that how people viewed your hidden relationship? A facade? A farce?

Once the door clicked shut, and the tapping of their heels faded, you left the restroom, heart feeling heavier.

(y/n) [6:45 PM]: stay safe stevie ! remember to hydrate

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: punch those meanies

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: (`⌒*)⍟-(`⌒´Q)

Steve chuckled when he turned on his phone, amused at your texts. You always sent him good luck messages every time he went off for missions. Although he didn’t seem to get the emoticons that you sent, even after being taught by Peter Parker. He just didn’t get them.

Steve dialed your number, sitting on the edge of the bed as he dried his washed hair. Beeps ringed before you picked up, your smooth lilt permeating the speakers. 

“Hello? Stevie?”

Steve smiled, missing the caress of your voice after a day filled with explosions and cries.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted. “How’s my girl been?”

“Great, now that you called,” you teased. “But are ‘you’ fine?” you emphasized.

On the other end of the line, you mirrored his position, sitting on one corner of the bed. Picking the newspaper in your lap, you observed the front page: ‘Avengers saves the Arctic!’ 

“Same old, same old,” his voice carries. “Listen, about yesterday—“

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, other hand gripping the newspaper. “You have to protect the Earth and that also means me. You don’t have to apologize, I knew what I signed up for.” 

Did you? Or was it now a hollow statement to convince yourself?

“I still want to make up for it, my girl deserves that much,” he responded.

You slowly unclenched the paper. It left Steve’s form crinkled.

“If you want to sooo bad,” you exaggerated. “There’s a Valentines charity ball for our arts program in three weeks time. You think you could make it this time?”

“You know no promises, but I plan to, even if I have to do everyone’s laundry for a week.” You heard rustling on the other line. “What’s the exact date? I’ll put it on my calendar.” 

“The 16th.” Scratchy scribbling filled your ear, the sound loud in the silence. 

“Done. Can’t wait to see you all dolled up, sweetheart.”

“Me too, baby,” you said. “At least put on a nice moustache this time.”

He laughed. Your heart felt lighter. To him, it was probably nothing, but to you, it was a form of reassurance. A reassurance that what you had was real.

“Steve, you got a moment?”

The aforementioned man turned around, taking a glance over his shoulder. Sharon Carter slowed to a stop, a small smile on her face. As always, she carried an air of superiority, matching that of Steve’s wavelength. Yet today, it seemed dim.

“I think we need to talk, you have time for coffee?”

Glancing at his watch, he nodded. “Sure, Sharon. Lead the way.”

She took them outside of S.H.I.E.L.D and into the chilly air of DC, navigating through streets and crowds while huddling in their coats. They chatted, breaths puffing as they caught up, the familiar scenes passing by.

He hadn’t been in DC in awhile, it felt good to be back. 

“We’re here.”

Sharon headed in first, holding the door for him. He thanked her. They ordered and got seated. A smile was shared, strained as it seemed. 

“Better just rip the band-aid off,” Sharon sighed. “I miss us.” 

“Sharon—“

“Please, hear me out first,” she insisted, showing her palm. “We probably shouldn’t have done what we’ve done after Aunt Peggy’s funeral. I just lost someone I looked up to the most, and you lost the woman that you loved. We were both grieving. It wasn’t fair to the both of us.”

“While I do miss us, I know that it wasn’t meant to be,” she continued, shooting a sombre smile. “I understand that now. I guess, what I wanted was closure.”

Her hand quivered on the table between them. Steve clasped his over hers, offering to soothe.

“I don’t regret what happened in Germany. While yes, it should have not happened, it was what we thought we needed at that time. We both lost someone we held dear,” Steve explained, hoping his words reached her. “None of it was a mistake, Sharon. You’re still someone I trust and hold dear, remember that.”

Steve clutched her hand tighter, running his thumb over her knuckles in circular motions, attempting to calm and show understanding.

In his efforts, unknown to the two, the shutter of a camera went off across the street.

Something felt off. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. At first, you thought it was your own anxious mind running. 

You woke up late on a work day, burned your eggs and toast, accidentally wore unmatching socks, and your roommate was acting weird. All jittery when you entered the hall, stammering her words, and performing this bizarre dance when you walked past the living room. You gave her no mind when you passed the threshold and slammed the door, phone gripped in hand.

Loverboy [6:00 AM]: Good morning, dear 

Loverboy [6:01 AM]: [image]

A photo of Steve, sweaty after a run showed on the screen. He was smiling, shirt stained and clinging to his chest. You had taught him how to take selfies.

You [7:20 AM]: morning, handsome

You [7:20 AM]: 😍😍😍 

The morning texts were the best part of your morning commute. It made the arduous and packed journey worthwhile. Even when you almost tripped at the doors, it couldn’t take away your joy.

You made it just in time and clocked in, meeting clients and discussions with artists throughout the day. It was uneventful, although the bad luck seemed to have followed when you spilled your coffee on the concrete.

It was when you left the museum that your day took a turn for the worst.

On the ride home, the man opposite you was reading a newspaper. Nothing unusual, but at a glance, you thought you saw a familiar face printed on the corner. Before you could take a closer look, the man folded it in half and got off.

A few minutes later, you arrived at your stop, exiting the station with the fast-paced crowd. That’s when you were bombarded.

Lining the streets, your vision was filled with the scattering of a crowd of papers. Every face you saw was plastered in them.

‘The Good Captain In Love?’

‘A Superhero & A Civilian Romance?’ 

‘Captain America’s Girl? Mysterious Woman Sighted’

The sight of them left you in a panic, your anxiety spiking through the roof. Your world started spinning, everything —buildings, trees, faces— blending altogether. Everywhere your eyes deflected, a headline invaded your sight, imprinting itself on your retinas. Had they found out?

Composing yourself, you headed towards the nearest news stall, mind boggled with too many questions and not enough answers. How? Why? When?

Only, it wasn’t your face they were publishing.

‘“Oh Captain, My Captain” America in love? Spotted last week in DC was Captain Steven Rogers with a mysterious lady. They seemed to be cozy with each other, an eyewitness told Us Weekly. Story on Page 11.’

The photograph showcased Steve with a blonde woman, sitting in a café with their hands clasped on the table. Your heart shattered at the sight, remembering how empty yours have felt lately. 

Was he purposely out with this woman in public? What did that mean for you? Why were you shadowed?

“Are you and Steve… okay?”

“She’s creating imaginary ones now.”

“Aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around?”

“You know that’s a hard thing for me to do.”

“Hey lady, you gonna pay for that?”

You were shaken out of your stupor. Looking down, you were clutching the magazine too hard, ripping the image of Steve and the woman in half, right in the middle where their hands met.

You apologized to the man and paid for the magazine. Immediately discarding it in the next trash bin you saw.

“So… you and Sharon?” Sam had asked him after training.

“What?” 

“You, and, Sharon,” Sam emphasized, pronouncing each syllable. “Are together. Man, when were you gonna tell me? I thought it was over.”

Steve froze before replying, “Because it is. A long time ago.”

“Well, this seems to say otherwise.” 

Sam showed him his phone, the screen displaying an article; ‘Captain America’s Girl Revealed. A Family Affair That Transcends Time.’ On top of the article was a photo of him and Sharon at the cafe in DC, his hand atop of hers on the table. A zoomed in version of their hands were provided, fueling the tabloid’s narrative.

Steve paled at the sight. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was his fears manifested; his anonymity taken, his privacy invaded, but his worst fear was putting his loved ones in danger. And if it was due to their association with him, it would leave him racked with guilt. 

While the tabloids were wrong, he knew that Sharon could defend for herself. You on the other hand… 

His heart rate rose, a new wave of anxiety spiked. Steve wondered if you’ve seen this. No, you must’ve seen this. 

Fishing for his phone, with clammy hands, Steve quickly dialed your number, anxiously waiting for the beeping to end. 

‘The number you’ve dialed is not—‘

“Damn it!”

His outburst surprised Sam, shocking him. Sam gave him a look, inquisitive. 

“Sorry Sam, I have to run.” 

He left, heart in his throat.

When Steve arrived at your apartment, he was almost out of breath. He was still anxious, the ride here not doing much to his addled mind. But he was determined.

Rapidly knocking on your front door, Steve composed himself. When it opened, he was met with the sight of your roommate -- the one that he has never met before.

“Ca-Captain America?” she yelped, shocked to see him on the doorstep.

“Is your roommate in?” he steeled.

“Which one—” 

“Steve,” a voice interrupted.

The door pulled further, widening the entrance. Steve was met with your familiar roommate. She was tense, arms locked across her chest, eyes full of fury. Steve detected something else in them; worry.

“You fucked up,” she said. He winced.

“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m here to make things right. Can I please see her?”

She sighed, stepping in, nodding towards your room. 

Steve hastily walked in, stopping in front of your door. He knocked thrice, signalling you, before turning the knob. It was unlocked. The room was dark when he entered, every source of light switched off, except for your curtains. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed was you, figure illuminated by the street lights against pitch black darkness. When he stepped in closer, you looked up, eyes meeting his. 

Steve turned on the lights and closed the door. He took a good look at you; hair frazzled, eyes bloodshot and dry, nose red. You were the image of heartbreak.

“Are you ashamed of me?” you asked, eyes locked with his. 

“What? No, I—“

“Is it because I’m not strong?” you cut him off. “I know she’s Peggy’s niece… a-and I know how much you loved her. She was your first love.”

“She and I, it’s all in the past. She moved on and lived her life, and I… did too.”

“But did you really, Steve? Move on?” you whispered, getting up. You stood in front of him. Steve could see how puffed your eyes were from crying. “Or was I just… a rebound?”

“No. No, you were never a rebound,” he took hold of your forearms. “I care for you, too much.”

“Then why?!” you shrieked, shocking Steve. “Why the secrets? Why the hiding? Steve, you’ve never even introduced me to your friends. Shouldn’t they know?”

“I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me from what?!” you roared, eyes full of fury. “The Avengers? If they knew about me, they would protect me. Don’t you think so?”

Steve had no words to that, his mind a jumbled mess.

“I’m… beginning to think that you’re embarrassed with me,” you sighed. “We’ve never been on a date publicly, as each other. We’ve never held hands in public. I want you to meet my friends. I want to introduce you to them, and maybe soon, I want you to meet my family.”

“B-but, I’m tired, Steve. Tired of all the hiding. Of all the sneaking around. I want to tell the world that I’m in love with Steve Rogers, not Captain America,” you sighed, shedding a few tears.

You waited for his reply, only to be disappointed. 

“You know I can’t do that.”

You saw red. All you saw was red. 

You started pushing him, swatting him in the chest. Steve didn’t fight back, letting you unleash your anger, your disappointment. He took your hits, letting you release your pent up emotions. He began backing away when you started advancing, back against the door.

“Get out! Get out!” you screeched, pushing him.

When he unlocked the door and crossed, you immediately shut the door in his face. Steve heard sobbing from inside, his heart shattering at the sounds. 

“This way, Captain,” your roommate approached him, showing him to the door.

Steve relented, shame flooding him. He fucked up.

You stopped visiting The Sleeping Cat, wanting to avoid him at all costs. You blocked his number. You immersed yourself in your work, prepping for the upcoming charity gala. 

Sometimes you find yourself thinking about him when sleep proved to be difficult. It’s when you’re laying at night that you missed him the most.

But it was for the best, you reasoned. For you and him.

The Avengers PR had pushed for a fix-it, publishing a story that spoke a truth. ‘Just Friends: Romantic Allegations Proved False’. Steve had hoped you’d seen it. 

He called you every day but found himself blocked from everything. He still tried, hoping you’d come around one day. He came by The Sleeping Cat every other day, sitting in the same spot, hoping to catch you. 

But you never came.

You clasped the necklace in place, admiring how it sat on your clavicle through the mirror. You took a step back and took yourself in, smiling at what you saw. It didn’t reach your eyes.

Today was the day of the Valentines gala and you weren’t feeling particularly giddy about it. 

Opening your phone, you stared at the one contact that stood out, finger hovering over his name. That name used to give you so many feelings, but today it was a reminder that you were going alone, again.

Sighing, you threw it in your purse and left. Another lonely night, and on an even celebrating love.

Days turned into weeks, and soon, before he knew it, the day of your Valentines gala arrived. 

Steve stared at the calendar. The heart-shaped doodle he drew called out to him, reminding him of fond memories. Fond memories that seemed like a distant dream. But then, he went back to last week, and it all came crashing.

He had hurt you. While thinking he was protecting you, he hadn’t realized he was inadvertently pushing you away. He had no one to blame but himself. 

He loved you. No, still loves you. You grounded him, gave him the normalcy that he craved. Reminded him of a distant time before he was Captain America. 

You made him feel like the boy from Brooklyn again.

While he was ruminating in his feelings, Steve was caught off-guard when the door burst open with Tony Stark coming through. From his peripheral, he could see Bucky and Sam peeking through the frame.

“Heard from the Manchurian Candidate that someone has a case of the achy breaky heart,” Tony said, smug.

“Leave me alone, Tony. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled, setting down the calendar. 

“And leave you wallowing like shit while your girl is out there probably equally miserable? I know a thing or two about women, Rogers, and it’s that they don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Tony snapped his fingers and from behind, Sam came in with a tuxedo in hand.

“Thought you might need this,” Sam said. 

Bucky came out behind him, with a brush and can of hairspray. “And I still know how to do hair.”

“And I have friends in places,” Tony quipped. “I can get you in.”

Steve was surprised. His friends had surprised him. You would’ve loved them. He was left speechless.

“What are you waiting for, Cap? Suit up.” Tony winked.

Swirling the glass of rosé, your gaze fell towards the dance floor. An upbeat song was being played as people flocked near the middle, letting their bodies take charge for the night. You saw your former co-workers among the throng, hands thrown around their significant others, having the time of their lives.

The gala was in full swing, if the crowd and chatter was any indication. Red and roses were the main theme, with a red carpet stretching from the grand staircase towards the main hall and roses lining every corner and wall. Taking it all in, you were proud to see your ideas visualized and work came to fruition.

You sipped your rosé, enjoying every bit of the gala as you could. From the sidelines, you spoke with a few potential clients and art collectors. Their presence made you feel your importance, and if you dared say it, a little less lonely.

It was during one of your little chats that you didn’t realize when the hall suddenly fell quiet. You turned around when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi folks, mind if I crash your party?”

Steve smiled at Tony’s antics. They both had arrived at the gallery dressed in their best, and with Tony’s connections, they were granted access. 

Stepping down the grand staircase, Steve felt all eyes on him. He paid them no mind, the thought of you the only occupant of his racing mind. Gazing over the crowd, Steve spotted you to the side, occupied in a chatter. 

Taking deliberate steps, Steve soon found himself behind you. He admired your gown and hair, it entranced him. You still hadn’t registered his presence, even when your partner had ceased chatting and was now staring at him.

With a tap on your shoulder, he was taken away as immediately as you spun around. Steve took in your whole image; your dolled-up face, your intricate dress, your styled hair. It left him floored.

You always did manage to take his breath away. Was this what he had been missing out all this time?

Taking your unoccupied hand, Steve pressed a small kiss before meeting your eyes. 

“May I have this dance?”

Giving away your drink, you took his hand as he pulled your towards the centre, taking space among the crowd. A slow number started, and before you realized, you were swept in a slow dance. It didn’t take long before you felt the sensation of his two left feet.

“Sorry, a hundred years and you’d think I’d know how to dance,” he said.

A small smile lightened your face. Steve savoured it all he could. Gulping, he took the first step.

“I’m... sorry for what I’ve done. I realize now that you were right,” he started. “I thought I was protecting you, but now I see that all it did was push you away. You have all the rights to be mad at me. I was being an idiot, a selfish one. I didn’t think about how you felt about it.”

You winced. Steve had stepped on your toes again. He murmured an apology, resorting to swaying instead.

“Can we start again? No more hiding. No more disguises,” he breathed, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “ We can meet your friends, you can meet mine. Bucky’s been pestering me to bring you to the compound, he wants to meet you.”

You laughed. How Steve had missed the tune.

“How can I make it up to you? How do you want to take the first step? A picnic at Central Park? Dinner at the compound? A trip to the beach?”

You seemed to contemplate, a thoughtful look on your face. You both failed to realize all the eyes on you two.

“How about now?”

“Right here? Right now?” he asked.

“Yes, right here, right now,” you said, determined.

Without hesitation —no more— Steve dived in, planting a kiss on your wine-coloured lips for the whole world to see. Your first kiss in public, yet it felt as if it was only the two of you there, lost in the moment. 

You both didn’t notice the gasping crowd nor the clicks of cameras from photographers nor the booming laughter of Tony Stark. You both only felt the other in your orbit, and that was all that mattered.

“Can you put that down? You’ve been staring at it for the past hour.”

You pouted, setting the frame on the side table, where it has been designated since its publication. 

“I can’t help it, I think it’s a good shot. Don’t you think so, Alpine?” you petted the snowy white cat lazing on the arm of the sofa. Its’ purrs intensified.

“Dinner’s ready!” Bucky shouted.

You and Steve left the room, joining the others in the dining room for dinner. On the side table, the framed article sat neatly, showcasing the tale of the famed occurrence that took place at a charity gala.

‘America’s Girl: The Modern Woman of The Captain’s Dreams.’

Fin.

[gummy-friend]

An AU where Wilbur and Techno are borrowers in Phil and Tommy's house

Masterlist • Next chapter

Content warning: Language.

Also, I made up the medical scene by myself— don't worry, it doesn't contain blood or serious surgical stuffs or anything— it's just a "how do I write it so it has a bandaging scene? 🤔" type of thing

Ch. 2

—————

Phil thought it would be a normal morning for him. He noticed that he's lacking in some ingridients, so he thought it'd be nice to make a mental list of what he should buy for his grocery run. Yeah. It should be normal. Phil never expected that he'll found himself staring at an unconcious body of a tiny person.

Before him— laying unconscious— was a tiny person. Phil quickly realizes that Tommy was, In fact, not dreaming when he told him the story of how he found two tiny people bickering. Phil haven't forgotten himself thinking Tommy imagining seeing a pink-haired tiny person sure is strange when he heard Tommy mentioned it at the dining table. Wait— wasn't there two tiny people in Tommy's story...?

***

Wilbur is currently frozen still. He couldn't do anything as he watches the human staring at Techno's unconscious body. Fuck— He should've listened to Techno when he said that "It's too early" and to "Wait for the human to go outside, just to be safe". Now Techno is laying unconcious in front of the human, and who knows what the fuck will the human do to Techno.

A whole minute felt like an hour to Wilbur as he stared down at the human who was staring at his twin. Eventually, the human broke out of his trance and decided to poke at Techno's limp body— No no no- what's he going to do to Techno— ..and then the human speedwalked away. His footsteps gave a little echo to the house, he looks like he's in a hurry.

Now's my chance Wilbur thought. He had the vague idea of climbing down as fast as he can, try and drag Techno towards the shadow, wait for the human to leave (while praying that he won't look for them), and go home— That way the human can forgot about Techno and possibly thinking that he was imagining things. It's okay. The borrowing trip can wait. It's okay.

It is not okay. Because as soon as Wilbur was about to initiate his plan, his plan failed. With the human coming back to Techno— with several tools bottles in his hands. Fuck— is he going to experiment on Techno???

Wilbur stared for a good moment at the human and Techno before a loud "Heey!!" startled him. The human was yelling to thin air, to his surroundings. "I know there are two tiny people" oh fuck "please come out, your pink-haired friend is unconcious, and I honestly can't tend to him accurately! If you're here, please help me treat him!!"

Huh?

"Please, I heard from Tommy— The other human— that you two seem pretty close, please help me treat him. I don't want him to die"

"He's going to die?!" Wilbur exclaimed from the top of the cabinet, and the human's head shot up to meet his eyes and Oh fuck, they locked eyes

"Oh phew there you are—" the human breathed out, still locking eyes with Wilbur. "Oh- uh- I actually don't know. I hope not. Can you- uh- can you help me treat his wounds?" he plead. To which Wilbur doesn't know what to do. He wants to go down. He has to. His twin is at the mercy of a collosal human and if Techno is going to be taken away, Wilbur at least doesn't want Techno and himself to be left alone.

Wilbur nodded.

Wilbur nodded and struggled as he tried to climb down the cabinet. He wouldn't dare using his and Techno's path nor his tools in front of the human. It can be used as a proof that "hey! I live in this place long enough to know what I'm doing here and how to tread this place!" and that is not a desireable scenario.

For a moment, Wilbur noticed that the human was opening his hand in favour of a platform— Wilbur dodges it. It doesn't matter if there's a possibility of the human wanting to help him, the thought of him standing on a human's hand was scary and weird.

"How... How do we treat him..?" Wilbur said, words slow when he finally able to reach the same surface as Techno's unconscious body

"Wait a second-" The human cutted his sentence as he takes out a slim, rectangular object, and begin tapping it— to which Wilbur responds VERY defensively, by the way. He doesn't know what the fuck does the object do, but he shouldn't trust whatever the human is doing —Fuck, has he fell right into the human's trap? "So it says here that it's best to check for other injuries, and if the patient is bleeding, to clear out the blood"

"Huh—?"

"Here, I have tissues for that" The human said while handing Wilbur a big sheet of tissue. His face buried in favor of reading the now-shining rectangular object— no wonder he didn't notice how bewildered Wilbur's face is

As a result, Wilbur took the sheet of tissue panickingly, he forgot how light a tissue is, and almost fell over

"Ah fuck— I'm sorry, was it too big? Do I need to cut it for you?"

"Cut what?" Wilbur's expression paled, he wasn't paying attention to the human one for a while. This situation was already weird and scary enough for him. Fumk, is he talking about cutting—

"The tissue" Phil answered, interrupting Wilbur's morbid thought. If Wilbur listened more closely, he could hear the tone on the human's voice mirrored both worry and concern for the him.

"Oh- uh- N-No. I can do it myself, I'm sorry—" Wilbur breathed out. Fuck. No time for panicking. No. Focus. Focus on Techno. He has to treat Techno's injury. Even if it means he'll have to work with a human.

ｏｏｏ

" —and then I believe after the bandage is wrapped, he should not be moved for a while in caution for any broken bones" the human finishes, and put down the slim, shining rectangular object— which Wilbur swear he knew what the thing is called— swapping it with a pair of scissors, and began to cut the bandage cloth to the appropriate size. "Here, please wrap the bandage"

"I... I don't know how" Wilbur meekly replied, taking in the texture of the bandage cloth in his hand. It's actually a good texture for sheets, maybe he should borrow some sometimes—

"Oh," the human began to look up picture tutorial on how to wrap bandages on his phone. Not noticing Wilbur's pale face.

Fuck fuck fuck. The previous realization finally caught up to Wilbur. He's a borrower— a small, small being— next to a Human —A huge being who have too much power over Borrowers and is very ....cruel.

"Here" the human said, as a sudden shine encompassed Wilbur's view.

It's the rectangular object—No, wait, it's a "Phone" right?— It's the phone. Specifically the shining side of the phone— the side that the human was reading the information from— directed towards Wilbur. A white screen with pictures and instructions on how to wrap a bandage was shown on it.

"To be honest I actually didn't know so I had to search it up. You can follow the instructions here— uh..?"

Wilbur's vision blurred, and his knees feels weak, and before he knew it, his face is now wet

Has the human ever shown any ill intent to both of them this far?

"Are you.. crying...?" the human's— Philza's — sudden voice from above him woke him up from his trance, and Wilbur shot his head up to look at the human.

This is actually Wilbur's first time to look at Philza's face so very clearly, without the usual fear that clouds his mind. His face was big, sure enough, and it took up Wilbur's whole view. But it's not that, Philza's face was so.. Kind. Oh stars they are so kind. A pair of big green eyes are locked on to his brown pair. Philza's expression reflects no malicious intent, his eyebrows furrowed in worry for Wilbur, his mouth half-opened in concern of an unsaid "are you okay?" for Wilbur, and his eyes are practically shining with kindness. Kindness that is directed towards Wilbur.

It teared down the dam on Wilbur's heart.

And Wilbur cried.

Wilbur cried until his body was exhausted on energy, and he sleeps. Wilbur fell asleep with the soft bandage cloth in his hand, and Wilbur fell asleep without knowing the soft bandage cloth blanketed his body by Philza.

[hurting-fictional-people]

Betrayal story - part 4

Look, the story has a name (hopefully I’ll come up with a better one later)! And the characters do too!

Anyways, if someone hasn’t seen the picrews (it’s here if you want to), Whumpee is now Liam Beaumont, Caretaker is Chase Raymond and Whumper is Jonah Sharpe. If you have trouble remembering: Caretaker still starts with a C no I totally didn’t give him a name that starts with a C on purpose what are you talking about and I think you’ll get very different vibes from Liam and Jonah haha

CW: electric torture, forced to watch, whumpee held hostage, hurt no comfort (for now), restraints

tagging  @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot  @sunflower1000  @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove  @boxofsilence  @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince

Part one here, continued from here

-

Twelve messages wait for Chase when he picks up his phone. All from Jonah, all demanding him to work quicker, to give in new information faster. He purses his lips and takes a deep breath, clutching the new drive he was given to fill. 

After so many betrayals, he should be used to the sting that comes along with lying and deceiving. He’s done it before, felt that guilt, drowned in it – and yet he can’t help but hesitate. Liam’s pale lips, creased brows, shallow breaths, sparkle to life in his mind, a painful reminder of what is at stake if he annoys Jonah too much. Right beside Liam’s face, though, are the ones of Chase’s team, his friends, his family, all trusting smiles and loving gazes he cannot ignore. It’s enough for him to type a message and turn off the phone.

Working on it, Chase sends and hopes it is enough to keep the man quiet for at least another day as he turns his computer on and starts erasing from the drive the most meaningful information he’s stolen.

-

When Jonah bursts into his room, Liam is almost happy to see him. Five days have passed since he’s woken up in a room instead of the cell, and all he’s had since then is loneliness and echoing silence. With the only human interaction he was given being the occasional visit from a nurse who gave him a clinical once-over and refused to so much as look him in the eye, it was no real surprise when his thoughts spiraled out of control, swirling around and sinking down between Chase’s inevitable and yet somehow unexpected betrayal, and his new status as a hostage. 

“Doing better?” Jonah asks, leaning against the doorframe. Liam’s heart pounds both in relief and terror at the sound of a voice that isn’t his own.

“Do you care?”

“Getting some rest got your tongue loose, I see.”

“Why are you keeping me here?” That’s the question that’s been eating him alive, disrupting his sleep, watering his fear into a blossoming flower of dread that grows and suffocates any hope that tries to bloom beside it. Each answer Liam’s imagined sounds worst than the last, but if there is truth in any of them, he has to know. To prepare. 

“We talked about this already, didn’t we?”

Jonah’s eyes are as cold as he remembers from their few encounters, but this time something lurking there whispers stories of anger and pain to come, and that alone is enough to raise goosebumps along his entire body. 

“What do you want to let me go?” What could he have to give a man who is already filthy rich, when Liam has nothing to offer but a cramped apartment and a lot of resentment?

“Nothing you can offer, lovely,” Jonah chuckles. “Fair try, though.”

But nothing about this is fair, in any possible way. “So you are just going to keep me here because you don’t like Chase? I have nothing to do with him, please just let me the fuck go and I won’t even tell anyone, you–“

“Liam, honey, let us clear something up. There is nothing you can do to convince me to let you go. All you can do is comply, and maybe I’ll be merciful if you do, but you are mine for the time being, and there is no one here to help you but me.”

Liam’s reply dies on his tongue, killed by the unrestricted horror the words wash him over with. It doesn’t sound real. Sounds like something he’d watch in a movie, read in a book, hear about on the news. To hear them directed at him and feel the pulsating response from the healing stab wound in his gut, makes him hold his breath and pray to just wake up from this nightmare. When did his life turn into this? Was it when he met Chase? Was it before? 

“Now that that’s out of the way, come on, we have somewhere to go today.”

Liam’s stomach drops to the ground, farther, falling and falling to the center of the Earth as he clenches the sheets in his fists and hisses, “Last time you said that, you locked me up until I got an infection.”

“Ha, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Jonah says, raising a brow. Liam doesn’t even blink at the grin playing on his lips. “Don’t worry, love, I don’t make the same mistake twice. We’re having a different kind of fun today. Up now, or I’ll call my men to do it for you.”

Gritting his teeth, Liam pushes the sheets away and slowly stands up, holding his side and fighting a groan, but on his feet without help.

They walk in silence, and neither Jonah nor the guards say anything about how slow he is, or how terribly pitiful he looks stumbling through the hallways. A thousand words speed through his brain, pleading to be heard, but he doesn’t voice any of his questions. Doesn’t think he’d get an answer if he did, anyway.

He is led into a nearly barren room, with only a camera over a tripod standing in front of a wooden chair. A wooden chair surrounded by restraints.

He takes a step back before his brain catches up with the movement, straight against a guards’ chest. Jonah giggles and tuts softly. 

Two men grab his arms and drag him to the chair, and the panic suddenly becomes so deep, so all-encompassing, it swallows down his fight. He is pushed down on the chair, the restraints are buckled around him until all Liam can move is his head, and all the while he just sits there, hyperventilating and near to tears, as still as a statue. Watching but never moving, terrified but frozen in place, petrified, and he hates himself for it, even if he knows the feeling should be directed at Jonah and Jonah alone.

“Well, I didn’t know you’d be so pliable, sweetheart,” Jonah mocks, setting the camera up. “I would’ve played with you sooner had I known.”

He parts his lips, but the words refuse to form. Fear envelops each of them before Liam can push them through gritted teeth, and all he does is stare at the guards surrounding him, at the cold stickers being placed on his arms, his shoulders, his hands. Liam shivers, but there’s no air current here.

“Why, why, why are you doing this?” he chokes out. He knows what’s about to happen, has seen it on television enough times to recognize the electrodes, the box placed next to the chair. 

“Because Chase pissed me off today,” he shrugs, and a red light blinks to life in front of the camera. Jonah walks toward him, stops in front of the chair, and smiles. Liam’s eyes are blown wide as he stares up at the man. “Has Chase ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”

The weight on his stomach is so huge that Liam can’t even find energy enough to feel outraged.

Jonah pulls out a linen scarf from his pocket as the guards plug wires to each sticker and wiggles it in front of Liam’s face. “Here, I’d bite down on this if I were you.” When he fails to open his mouth, the man rolls his eyes and grabs his cheeks, squeezing so suddenly and cruelly his mouth opens without command and the scarf is shoved inside, making him gag. “Not that well behaved, huh. No problem, we have time to get you obeying.”

When the guards take a step away, Liam finds himself wishing they didn’t. 

“Smile at the camera, love,” Jonah says, stepping to the side so Liam is the only one being recorded. He stares straight at the lens and tries to draw in a deep breath.

He knows it is coming. He prepares for it. And then Jonah flips a switch, and there’s no preparing for pain so big, for agony so deep.

The world shatters around him as electricity lights up his body, turns him inside out, upside down, and no breath could’ve ever made this any better. There’s no air to breathe, no room to writhe, no place to escape. There is only pain, boundless and searing, here and now, splitting him into thousands of shards he can never hope to piece back together.

And then it stops, and his throat is raw but he doesn’t remember screaming and his chest heaves as he fights for air and tears fall from his eyes to his chin to his chest but he doesn’t remember crying either.

“Beautiful,” Jonah sighs somewhere close. Liam coughs and chokes on his own tears, trying to beg or maybe cry out, but whatever his mouth forms gets caught on the gag before it reaches anyone’s ears.

Please please please stop, it hurts, hurts so much, so, so much, please, please–

“Let’s go again.”

Liam doesn’t have time to even be scared before his world dissolves into burning agony once more. All he can do is scream and silently plead for help he knows isn’t coming.

-

When Chase turns on the phone, his heart nearly stops at the video awaiting him.

Two hours have passed. After five days of trying to convince that despicable man to let him see Liam and failing miserably, barely sleeping, worry and guilt eating at his insides, he fell asleep. He forgot. For one hundred and twenty minutes he allowed himself to rest, and now he is paid with Liam’s frozen image staring at him, waiting on Jonah’s chat, along with one single line of text that chills him to the bone.

This is for turning off the phone.

He clicks and feels a chasm opening in his gut when Liam fills the screen, strapped to a chair, scared eyes darting around a room Chase can’t see through the video, searching for an escape that is nowhere to be found, stopping on each electrode that is stuck to his body. The fear is clear as crystal on his face. It makes Chase’s heart squeeze until his chest is so tight he places a hand there, afraid to find it as hollow as he feels. Liam doesn’t talk, doesn’t scream, doesn’t beg. He simply blinks at the men towering over him and doesn’t ask for help, and that might be what truly undoes Chase.

And then Jonah turns on the switch, and Liam’s head snaps back, body contorting against restraints so tight there’s no room for him the thrash. Even through the gag, he screams, and Chase would scream as well if he wasn’t too busy gripping the phone as if his life depended on it, trying to steady his trembling hands.

When the shock stops, Liam’s face is tear-stained and exhausted, sobs wracking his body and ripping apart Chase’s soul. 

His fault.

It is his fault. After everything, after betraying Liam into not trusting anyone, after losing the boy who might’ve been the love of his life, after being responsible for his stabbing, his kidnapping, after everything–

The switch is turned on again, and this time when Liam screams, Chase’s eyes well up with tears he has no right to cry. A kind of rotten helplessness takes over his body, its clawed fingers wrapping around his arms, his legs, his heart and squeezing, whispering and shouting his failure, his guilt, his powerlessness. His eyes plead to close, but he needs to see this. It is his fault, his burden, and if Liam was forced through it, he has to at least watch it to the end. If anything, to know he’s still alive.

It lasts longer the second time. A life. His useless life. Liam convulses and cries and howls, and if Chase could only take the pain to himself, he would. He would switch places with Liam in the blink of an eye. He is the one who deserves that pain. He is the one who betrays and hurts and destroys anything he touches, and it should be him, not the boy who smiles at the sunrise and cries over books and dreams about changing the world. 

He stares unblinking at the screen and watches in silence as electricity courses again and again through that body he had once held and thought about spending a life beside, fogging those eyes that used to engulf him in love, twisting that face he once kissed and touched and loved into one of raw despair. Each time it stops, neither of them has time to catch their breath before it starts again. After the third time, Liam doesn’t cry out anymore. His voice breaks in a ragged wail until it dies down and all that’s left are silent sobs.

When the video ends, Chase is nearly numb. The last image shows Liam’s head hanging forward as he struggles to breathe, Jonah’s fingers casually carding through his sweaty hair.

Chase is out of his house before his brain even processes what he’s doing, inside his car, driving to Jonah’s building in a blur of hatred and desperation. When he parks in front of the tower, the phone buzzes and he doesn’t hesitate to read it. Not anymore. Never again.

You lost visit privileges. Leave the drive with the guard at the door and keep in touch. 

With Liam’s screams still ringing inside his mind, forever trapped there, he doesn’t dare do anything other than what he is told. He gives the guard the flash drive, and for the first time in years, he prays. Because if anyone notices the most important files missing… he can’t bear the thought of what could be done to Liam in retribution. 

(next)

[sleepysnk]

not a very long chapter today, but next chapter will be VERY IMPORTANT. keep watch for it! <3

Team Player: Chapter Five

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Eren awoke to the aching of his ankle. His green eyes fluttered open as he reached for his phone on his nightstand, the screen lighting up and showing the time that said 8:55 A.M.  It felt too early to be awake, but his ankle was bothering him too much. 

He arose from his bed and looked over at Armin's bed. He was already gone and out to class. Eren stood up and winced as his ankle throbbed in pain. 

Unfortunately for him, he was now injured way worse than he was before. His muscle was now more irritated and the nurse told him that he needed to skip the next game or two to make sure it fully healed. Eren was irritated with that. He wanted to get back on the field as quickly as he could, but he knew damn well Coach Smith wouldn't let him. Judging on how pissed off he looked on Saturday, Eren was certain there was no way he could smoothly talk to him. 

Eren grabbed the side of his bed, reaching for the small bottle of pills that was prescribed for the pain. He had to take more now since he wasn't doing that well. The nurse gave him so many instructions on how to take care of his ankle, it all bombarded him at once. 

Grabbing the plastic water bottle, Eren put the meds in his mouth and swallowed, feeling the pills go down his throat. 

He quickly changed into a sweater and black sweatpants, making sure to wear the patch the nurse gave him. He threw on slides and grabbed his backpack, exiting his dorm to the main campus. 

As he entered the main doors, he felt eyes suddenly boring holes into his head. Eren hung his head low as he stared at his phone, trying to get some attention off of him. Many people were pissed at what happened during the game, people clowned him on Twitter, giving him nicknames or posting meme videos to his fail. It was honestly kind of embarrassing for him. Many sports analysts talked about it, and Eren knew that wasn't good. 

Eren's eyes averted upward as he saw Jean walking with Marco. 

"Hey Jean," Eren said and approached him. 

Jean stood there and clenched his jaw. "What do you want dude? You here to tell me how shitty of a lineman I am?" he asked and crossed his arms. "Look dude.. no offense but stay out of my way." he added and pushed past Eren. 

Eren stood there watching Jean walk off. He's never seen him act that way before, Jean usually kept his words to himself sometimes, but it kind of made Eren feel shitty. 

"You suck!" a random student yelled and looked at Eren. "Selfish as fuck.." he added and kept walking. 

Eren didn't even do anything. He just walked away from the guy near him. His mind was clouded with so many thoughts, he really was the laughing stock of Trost. Everyone just stared at him as he walked in the hall to his class, what was he going to do? He couldn't exactly clear his name or whatever, the footage was all online. 

He silently prayed things would go well at practice. 

-

The day seemed to pass by slowly for Eren. 

He barely did anything in most of his classes and he didn't bother to pay attention. 

What bothered him the most was that most of his teammates avoided him, whenever Eren tried to say hello they all ignored him, or they told him to go away. The team’s loss was not his intention, he wanted to show everyone his talent out on the field as well as impressing the scout that was there and to make others proud.  

Going on social media was the worst. People made memes about his fail, and many people were disappointed in what happened. They looked like idiots during that game, the Titans were their rivals too, which also meant that the school itself looked absolutely shitty. 

Eren could care less what was happening in his physics class, the teacher just blabbed on and on about velocity and other crap. None of it seemed to interest Eren as he was just too lost in his thoughts about the game. 

"You're all dismissed!" the professor called and looked around the room. 

Eren stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, he walked slowly down the hall as his ankle was bothering him still. What was he going to do? 

The day had already ended and Eren decided to make his way to practice, he knew he couldn't exactly play or catch any balls, but maybe he could just observe. 

He opened the door to the locker room and saw many of his teammates staring or exchanging looks with one another, he felt awkward walking in there. This hasn't exactly happened to him before either. 

"What are you doing here?" Reiner asked, crossing his arms. "You're hurt. Coach doesn't want you here," he added. 

Eren looked at the blonde who seemed to be in a bad mood. "I-I just… wanted to observe," he replied and rubbed the back of his neck. 

"Eren." his head turned to see Coach Smith standing there with his arms crossed. "Come into my office… we need to have a chat," he said and waved him over. 

Eren gulped and made his way into the office, his pulse began to race rapidly. He knew it probably wasn't good. 

"Have a seat," Coach Smith said and plopped down at his desk. 

Eren put his backpack down on the ground and looked at his Coach, his icy hues burning holes into his head. 

"U-Um… what do you want to speak about?" Eren asked, giving a weak smile. 

Coach Smith leaned back and sighed. "It's about what happened on Saturday-" 

"I'm sorry. That was totally my fault, I thought Jean was going to get-" he was cut off. 

"I didn't finish Eren," he said sternly and crossed his arms. "Eren what happened on Saturday was absolutely unacceptable and unsportsmanlike. Jean is your teammate! I gave Reiner that call to throw to him, not you. Your behavior lately has been very inappropriate.”

Eren looked down and bit his lip. "B-But! I thought he was going to get tackled! If I-"

"Enough. There is no excuse for your actions Eren, not only that, but you were hurt too. I told you three times that if you were hurt, to step off the field. That's not okay at all Eren. Look at you now! Your ankle is now even worse than before. Your actions are extremely selfish," he stated. 

Eren fell silent as his words played into his head. 

"Until you can play like a team player, leave." Coach Smith said. 

Eren looked up with wide eyes. "What? What do you mean leave?!" he asked with concern in his voice. 

"Until you can get your act together, you're benched and off the team. There's not buts anymore Eren, I've let your behavior slide numerous times. Your own teammates have come to me about this as well, so until you can gain some proper teamwork skills you're benched," he replied. "Don't bother coming to practice or showing up to games or I will suspend you," he added. 

Eren leaned back in his chair. "You can't do this coach please! I need this season!" he pleaded and looked at him with pleading eyes. 

Coach Smith stood up. "Nobody wants a player who can't think for anyone else, especially not the Chiefs," he said. "Now please… leave. Don't show up for the rest of the week," he added and went towards the door. 

Eren grabbed his backpack and exited the office, many eyes watched as he exited the locker room. Frustration, anger, and even sadness rushed through him all at once. How could his own Coach do that to him!? Coach Smith has believed in Eren from the day he entered Trost. Why the sudden change? 

He went outside and breathed in the cool air, the leaves fell from the trees as it was now fall. The leaves crunched under his feet as he walked back to his residence hall, he just wanted to lay in bed and sleep the rest of the day. 

He eventually got back and opened the door, Armin sat on the opposite side of the room with his laptop open. 

"Eren? You're back early. Short practice today?" he asked and nodded. 

Eren threw his backpack onto the floor which made a loud thump come from it. "No.." he replied and sat on his bed. "It's way worse than that," he added. 

Armin furrowed his brows. "What happened?" he asked. 

Eren threw his phone onto his nightstand. "I got benched for what happened at the rival game, so don't expect me to be playing. I can't go to practice either," he replied and leaned against the wall. 

The blondes eyes went wide as saucers hearing the news. "What? That's never happened to you before…" he said and looked down. 

"Yeah.. I guess the other players have talked about it too," Eren said and adjusted his man bun. "Which is absolute bullshit to me," he added and shrugged. 

Armin stayed silent as he listened to Eren rant, he knew how badly the situation was. Being injured didn’t exactly help anyone, being benched was the best course of action. Seeing the way he played on Saturday was kind of embarrassing in a way, Eren barely let anybody have the ball. 

"What am I going to do? My teamwork skills are fine!" Eren complained, staring up at the ceiling. 

Armin laughed a bit. "You're going to have to work on it yourself. Teamwork takes a lot of self work, it's up to you to fix it." he replied. "I wish I could help but to be honest, I suck at that kind of stuff." he added. 

Eren felt a small smile draw onto his lips. "It's okay Armin… I guess I have to fix all of this on my own," he said. 

"So you're benched for the next game?" Armin asked and nodded a bit. 

Eren sighed. "Yup… and who knows how long either. Coach told me to not show until I get my act together," he replied, putting his arms behind his head. "Which sounds stupid to me because I'm fine the way I am," he added and shrugged his shoulders. 

Armin closed his laptop and placed it next to him. "Maybe you have to accept his words Eren.. he could be just trying to help you," he said, looking over at him. "Sometimes you have to face the reality of it," he added. 

Eren sat up and looked towards his roommate. "No.. there's nothing wrong with me Armin. If he was trying to help he wouldn't have benched me," he replied. "I'll be fine.. just don't worry about it," he said and stood up limping to get his medication. 

Armin stayed silent and just watched as Eren took his medication. Was Eren right about everything? Maybe his skills were fine and everyone was just being dramatic, or maybe Coach Smith was right. Maybe Eren needed the work, that was something Armin wasn't sure of, but judging off the way Eren played on Saturday… he was convinced Eren did have issues on the field. 

One thing was for certain, something was up with Eren.

tagging: @ererokii @eremiie @callmepromise @moomii-hime @katsuhera @flam3bird @kc-braun @backstagepaige @thicmitten @daughter-of-the-stars11 @just-a-little-sad @chayauwu @sof-yeager @basket-flower-chick @lunamoonawatcher

[cloudywriter]

camp staghorn - 3

alright, i had hoped for chapter 3 to be longer but then i decided to split it up for the sake of the flow. as i’ve been writing too things have naturally changed so i didn’t intend for this whole chapter to be in rowan’s view so now my summary isn’t exactly an excerpt but hope that’s okay. anyway enjoy! 

masterlist, main masterlist, AO3

~~~

Rowan was quickly realizing the grave error he had made in aggravating this girl. He thought she might throw a bit of a fit after getting flour dumped on her head in front of the whole camp but she took it upon herself to retaliate that very day.

That was how Rowan ended up with his campers 30 minutes late to the bonfire. His shoes were soaked through with muddy creek water and sloshed with every step he took. Even his socks were drenched and it was the worst feeling in the world. 

He had tried to jump up on the line a few times and let gravity pull the dinners back towards them but it didn’t seem to weigh enough. Thus, Rowan had to sacrifice his shoes in order to untie the bag directly from the zipline where it rested above the stream. 

His campers were both amused by the feud but also put out by having to wait for their dinners and be late to the bonfire. Rowan just trudged along, silently fuming, following the orange flames that flickered through the trees in the distance. His shoes making a disgusting squish with every step he took.

When Rowan and his campers finally appeared, obviously late, Aelin turned around from her spot on a makeshift log bench and gave him a dazzling smile, clearly proud of her work. It took Rowan a bit by surprise with the light from the fire reflecting back in her blue eyes and illuminating her face, she looked beautiful. He had thought so even the day before but then she opened her big mouth and blatantly cheated during the mud race and her angelic appeal took on a different form.  

Rowan just huffed and gave her a withering glare before perching himself on another log facing the opposite way. Maybe if she wasn’t such a piece of work they could’ve gotten along fine enough and been civil.

It was then that Fenrys came and plopped himself right beside Rowan. “Hey, man,” he greeted, energetic as usual despite the darkening sky. Fenrys was always sunshine come to life, happy but insufferable, unable to take anything seriously. Rowan was a little more tense in nature, a loner by heart, he only needed someone to make him come to life.

“Hey,” Rowan grunted. “What happened?” Fenrys inquired. 

“Aelin happened,” he responded with a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Aelin? She’s still bothering you?” 

“Yeah, she fucking tied our dinners to one of the ziplines and left a note covered in hearts.”

Fenrys was laughing his ass off, of course, always willing to capitalize off of Rowan’s misery. He tried to give Rowan a pat on the back but he shoved his hand away. 

“C’mon man, you can’t let her win like this. Get her back,” Fenrys pressed. 

Up until this point, Rowan hadn’t considered rectifying her actions. He was too caught up in the state of his shoes and getting his campers back to the bonfire to even think past his annoyance. 

“Okay, I got a plan for you. You go to her camp’s cabin and loosen all their facets so when they turn on the sinks they fly off and water sprays everywhere.”

It was brilliant thinking Rowan had to admit but his plan had a few holes that Rowan voiced. “When am I supposed to do that? I don’t even know her cabin number.”

“Those are easy fixes, dude. Go to the map outside the dining hall, all the cabins are labeled with which camp numbers are where and you know she’s number 6,” Fenrys explained. 

Rowan nodded along, surprised Fenrys was more observant than he was in this instance. “And you should go now. I’ll keep track of her and if she ever starts wondering over your way I’ll make a distraction,” Fenrys continued. 

“What are you going to do that isn’t outright suspicious?” Fenrys wasn’t exactly subtle. 

Fenrys shrugged, “I’ll just flirt with her. I mean, she’s hot anyway I was going to try to get her number one way or another. Plus, I’m practically irresistible.” Rowan wasn’t sure why he felt slightly irked by Fenrys’s strategy but he shoved the brief feeling aside.

“Get a move on before it’s too late,” Fenrys persisted, getting up to keep an eye on Aelin as he promised. Rowan did as told and slipped into the shadows, ready to execute his plan. 

By the time Rowan made it outside cabin 3B it had been at least 15 minutes, he was a little embarrassed to admit he got a bit lost on the dimly lit forest trail. He opened the main door and screen door with a creak, internally cringing as he did so, though no one was around.

The cabin was much tidier than Rowan’s own. The girls' belongings were organized and the beds were neatly made. Rowan quickly located the bathroom and flipped on the lights, hoping that no suspicion would be drawn. 

The bathroom counter had three sinks and various toiletries scattered around the counter. Rowan spotted a collection of hair and skin products and just knew they belonged to Aelin, he didn’t think any 12-year-old girls were using those. 

He left the toiletries alone though, that wasn’t his mission. He had only loosened one of the facets when he heard muffled voices outside the cabin. 

Rowan quickly shut off the lights and darted behind one of the shower curtains that shielded three showers in the back of the bathroom. The cabin’s door squeaked open and Rowan could make out Fenrys’s voice from the outside, pleading with Aelin. 

“Aelin, c’mon, we could go back to my cabin for some fun, you know.” Rowan could sense the underlying panic in his teasing tone. 

“Oh, go away you horn dog and take a hint,” he could hear the eye roll in Aelin’s voice too. 

Footsteps sounded, striding towards the bathroom and Rowan tried to quiet his breathing. His heart was beating out of his chest, he really did not want to be found in the girls’ cabin. As innocent as what he was doing was it certainly looked suspicious. The lights flipped on and Rowan cringed, silently praying to whatever would listen. 

Aelin hummed a little and a facet turned on. Judging by the lack of screams at least it wasn’t the sink Rowan had just tampered with. He dared a peek through the sliver of space between the curtain and the shower’s tile wall. Aelin was at a sink, washing her hands that seemed to be covered with chocolate and marshmallow residue, looks like he was missing s’mores. 

Just as quickly as Aelin appeared, she left. Rowan breathed a sigh of relief, his heart finally calming in his chest. He was just so goddamn lucky she hadn’t started taking a shower or something, Rowan would’ve definitely combusted on the spot. 

Rowan slipped out from behind the curtain after a few minutes of waiting, ensuring that the coast was truly clear. He quickly loosened the remaining facets and hurried back to the bonfire before any suspicion could arise.

+++

Rowan woke his camp early the next morning despite their protests. He played it off as wanting the premium breakfast selections before everyone else took them but truly he didn’t want to miss Aelin’s reaction to his little jest.

He expected it would happen in the morning when everyone was getting up and ready to start the day and he wanted front row seats.

As Rowan entered the dining hall he was immediately met with his failure of a lookout, Fenrys. 

“I’m sorry, I swear, dude, I pulled out all the charm and she still just kept walking, complaining about her hands being sticky,” Fenrys tried to desperately explain. Rowan just shook his head and brushed it off, reassuring Fenrys there was no harm done. However, if Aelin had found him he probably would’ve had Fenrys’s head by now. 

Rowan was disappointed by Aelin and her camp’s absence throughout breakfast but he realized it was still early and at least three camps were yet to appear. He tapped his fingers on the table and impatiently waited, thrumming with anticipation.

At last, he sighed and made his way outside to dispose of his food in the big trash can. As he was making the short trip back into the dining hall incessant stomping from behind had him turning around and he smiled like the Chesire Cat. 

He could tell by her face that Aelin was positively seething. She was still dressed in her pajamas, a large t-shirt dwarfing her frame but it was soaked from her collar bones down. The ends of her hair were a deep golden blonde, wet and dripping with sink water. 

She stopped face to face with him and shoved the detached facet into his chest with a force that should not have been humanly possible. Rowan almost stumbled back a step but kept with his facade, outwardly admiring his handy work. 

“Fix it, you dick,” she hissed in his face, lacing her arms across her chest. 

“What seems to be the problem, princess?” 

“Oh, don’t play stupid right now and come screw it back on or I will drag you there by your ear.”

Rowan was weirdly turned on. With her face so close to his and the tension in the air was as taut as a freshly tuned guitar string, he was struggling to breathe properly. Aelin stirred him like no other, she was a walking wildfire, burning bright and utterly uncontained. 

Rowan terminated his inner monologue and gestured for her to lead the way. Aelin huffed, spinning on her heel and marching the path back to her cabin. 

Rowan actually had to work to keep pace with this girl and he was an athlete, constantly practicing or on a field for one sport or another. Aelin breezed through the forest trail never stumbling on rocks or stray roots even with her heavy steps that communicated her frustration clearly. 

When they reached the cabin door, Aelin entered and let the door fall behind her despite knowing Rowan was only a couple of steps back. He huffed and pushed open the door once more. The cabin was empty, likely Aelin had sent the girls to get breakfast while she dealt with Rowan’s antics. 

Aelin stood expectantly in the bathroom.

“Do you need to watch?” Rowan questioned.

“Well, someone has to make sure you don’t put it back on and twist the handles off while you’re at it,” Aelin explained coldly, her arms still crossed, her stance daring him to challenge her. 

Rowan only gave her a bitter scoff and effortlessly screwed the facet back into place. “Look at that, good as new, now was that so hard?” He definitely enjoyed taunting her. 

“Save it smartass, now I might not even get breakfast.”

Aelin stomped back to the countertop and squirted some toothpaste onto her brush, reaching out to turn on another sink. Rowan’s eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen.

“Wait, Ae-” 

It was too late. The damage was done and once again Aelin was being showered as water sprayed through the crack in the loosened pipes. 

“ROWAN!” She screeched but Rowan was already reaching over and twisting the handle back so the water would stop running. 

“What the fuck! You did it to all of them!” Aelin’s face was flushed with anger and her eyes were blazing. 

“I tried to warn you!” Rowan attempted to defend himself but Aelin didn’t look convinced. Rowan snatched a white towel off of the drying rack and wrapped it around her shoulders. That’s when Rowan recognized what he was doing, swaddling the soaked girl in a towel, breaching a new territory altogether. They made eye contact. Aelin’s face was relaxed and she regarded him with a soft, perplexed expression. 

Rowan removed his hands from where they were holding the towel together and cleared his throat. “You probably want to change,” he suggested lamely.  

“Uh, yeah.” With that, Aelin exited the bathroom and dug through her bag for a change of clothes while Rowan tightened the remaining sinks awkwardly, putting his prank to a rest. 

Once Rowan had finished he slipped out of Aelin’s cabin while she continued to get ready. When he arrived back at the dining hall he noticed breakfast was quickly coming to a close and a kernel of guilt panged through him. His goal hadn’t been to starve her by forcing her to miss breakfast. 

Rowan grabbed an apple and recognized a girl with long, deep brown hair and brown eyes sitting at a nearby table, a girl Rowan often saw accompanying Aelin. He approached her and cleared his throat to capture her attention, she shifted in her seat to face the noise. 

“Can you, uh, give this to Aelin when she comes?” He asked, holding out the red apple. 

“Yeah, sure,” the girl said kindly, taking the apple from his hand. 

With that, Rowan went back outside to find wherever his campers had journeyed off to in their free time. Along with him followed an abundance of contradicting feelings. 

~~~

i gave them a lil moment - aelin will stab him in the back again tho don’t worry.

send prompts!

taglist: @live-the-fangirl-life // @rowaelinismyotp // @gosuckadickghostman // @camilamartinezdunne​ //

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Movie Night

(Stiles Stilinski x Reader)

Request: Hey could I have a Stiles × reader where they are watching a horror movie. She enjoys horror movies but u know how Stiles would react while watching one..So she pranks Stiles and he gets mini heart attack and the reader gets into a laughing fit seeing his reaction..Somehow he finds out that she is ticklish and takes matters into his hands... something cute and little long. Thanks

Word count: 2,347

Warnings: so much fluff it’s nauseating

Notes: this is my first ever request so hopefully I did it justice!! I loved this concept so much & if any of you lovely people have something you want me to write for Stiles feel free to send your ideas my way!

———————————————————————

You snuggled up close to Stiles’ side on the couch, pressing play on the remote before setting it onto the coffee table that supported your crossed legs. It was your weekly movie night and you had finally convinced him to watch something scary.

You’d been dying to indulge in your love of horror films since fall began, and with Halloween now just around the corner, you were running out of time. Yes, you could technically watch them whenever you wanted, but it was always so much more satisfying during this time of year. 

Sadly, all your friends are babies. Every last one of them had refused your invitations. It wasn’t that you minded watching scary things alone, but seeing other people’s reactions was your favorite part of the experience. Finally, after a couple weeks of almost constant nagging, Stiles begrudgingly agreed. 

You were secretly elated that he’d been the one to give in, because he was your movie person. The two of you had kept your weekly date for two years now. It only made sense to do this with him. 

His rules were: the lights stay on, you have to warn him before scary parts, and you’d be watching any rom-com of his choosing right after.

You smiled to yourself as the movie started. You’d picked the scariest thing you could find, partially because it’d been so long since you were truly terrified of a film and you missed it, but also because you loved fucking with Stiles. He was already completely freaked out and the title page had barely disappeared.

He sat impossibly still beside you, staring at the screen with wide eyes. He was almost always on edge nowadays, and this whole thing was only exasperating the problem. Although everything on screen seemed peachy now, he knew it would take a turn for the worst when he least expected it.

Things like this always made his anxiety skyrocket. It’s why he tried so hard to avoid this very situation. He was honestly surprised it had taken you this long to force him into watching something other than your usual lighthearted flick. 

He’d already faced enough real monsters and demons to supply a lifetime of nightmares. The last thing he wanted was to spend his free time being scared, but he knew how happy it would make you to watch your favorite genre for once. Plus, he figured he owed you after you sat through Never Been Kissed three times in a row. It was only fair that he suffer a little bit too.

Stiles jumped with a quiet gasp when one of the characters popped out to playfully scare their brother, and you chuckled to yourself in amusement. You were going to have a blast watching him freak out at every little thing.

“This is awful.” He breathed from beside you, still stiff as a board. “There is literally nothing worse we could be doing on a Friday night.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “You mean like getting murdered by a supernatural creature?”

“At least that wouldn’t take two and a half hours.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.

You just smiled and returned your head to its resting place against his shoulder. You guys usually took turns picking a movie, but he’d put a firm “nothing scary” clause in your movie night agreement, so your options were always limited. 

Yes, the two of you had actually typed out a document when you started this freshman year. 

There were only a few important notes in it. Neither party could cancel under any circumstances—with the exception of a life threatening event—nothing scary, and no one else was invited. Friday nights were for you and Stiles, and the two of you only.

About forty minutes in, you knew there was a particularly bad jump scare coming, so you let your eyes slowly sweep up toward his face. You considered warning him, but decided it would be way more fun to watch his genuine reaction.

When it happened, he spazzed so violently that he launched the bowl of popcorn you’d both been munching on across the room. You erupted into a fit of laugher, clutching at your stomach as you replayed the horrified look on his face over and over in your mind.

“You were supposed to tell me!” Stiles shouted accusingly, his skin growing warm with embarrassment as he shoved himself off the couch to clean up. 

He was trying so hard not to let this movie get to him, but the actors were really convincing, and he was scared shitless. Tears were streaming down your face as you finally forced yourself to settle down after a couple of minutes. You wiped your cheeks clean with a sigh, still fighting a few lingering giggles.

“I just couldn’t resist.” You admitted breathily before joining him on the floor to help pick up the remainder of the snack.

Not a single surface in your living room had been spared. It was in the bookshelves on either side of the TV, between the couch cushions, and even floating inside your parents’ fish tank.

By the time you both sat back down, you remembered that something way worse was about to happen. A slow grin pulled at your lips as you came up with a brilliantly evil idea. You leaned forward to grab the plastic bowl off the coffee table and popped to your feet.

“I’m gonna go make some more.” You barely even had time to think about taking a step before Stiles’ hand jerked up to wrap around your wrist.

“Are you out of your freakin’ mind? You can’t leave me alone in here.” He looked up at you with big, pleading eyes, something he knew you couldn’t resist.

The thought of watching this movie by himself for even a few minutes had his heart sputtering in his chest. He knew he wouldn’t last thirty seconds without you. You glanced away from his face, feeling your resolve crumbling at the desperate gleam in his eyes. 

You had to go through with this. It was just too good. “Stiles, I’ll be in the next room. You can literally still see me.”

He glanced toward the kitchen, only a few feet away, needing proof despite the fact that he’d been to your house enough times to have the entire floorplan memorized. With a skeptical twitch of his eyes, he let your arm slowly slide out of his hold. You spun on your heel and grinned triumphantly, practically skipping away from him.

You took a few moments to find a new bag of popcorn and place it into the microwave, wanting your excuse to seem believable. After starting it, you turned around just in time to see Stiles peering at you nervously over his shoulder.

It wasn’t that he actually thought something would happen to you in the three minutes it took for the popcorn to cook, but this movie seemed so much worse without you beside him. You quirked an eyebrow expectantly as you braced your hands on the counter, and he hesitated before slowly turning around with a pout.

As soon as Stiles’ back was to you, you dropped into a crouch on the tiled floor, silently crawling toward the kitchen doorway. You leaned around the corner to check on him before continuing. 

He scratched at the side of his head and squinted one eye closed when the music on the TV became slow and suspenseful. That sound had literally never come before anything good. His right leg started bouncing anxiously as he silently prayed you would be back before whatever horror was about to happen.

His attention was firmly planted on the screen as he sat on the edge of his seat and fidgeted with his fingers. You made your way out of the kitchen and shuffled quickly toward the back of the couch. Just as you reached it, the microwave went off with a high pitched beep beep beep.

Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin, heart lurching up into his throat at the unexpected noise. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He muttered to himself, putting a hand to his chest in an effort to calm his ragged breathing.

The microwave went off again a moment later, since no one had opened the door yet, and he turned to look into the kitchen curiously. He wondered what was taking you so long as his eyes flickered over the room. A moment later, his brows furrowed in confusion when he saw that it was now empty.

“Y/N?” He moved up onto his knees and turned so he could see better.

You scurried around to the other end of the couch to avoid being caught and put a hand over your mouth, having way too much fun already as a few giggles threatened to expose you.

“Y/N, this isn’t funny...” Stiles’ voice was laced with panic as he made a move to stand up.

He had no idea what could’ve happened to you only a few feet away, but your lack of response was troubling. His stomach tightened as he peered into the kitchen without actually getting any closer. He was honestly terrified, the chilling music behind him doing nothing to make the situation better. 

You knew this was your moment.

“Boo!” You popped up onto your feet with a jerk and wiggled your fingers at him.

Stiles let out a loud scream, his face crumbling in pure horror as he clumsily scrambled as far away from you as possible. He tripped on his own feet and somersaulted over the couch armrest, landing on his ass with a bounce. He stared at you with wide eyes and parted lips, honestly surprised his heart was still beating.

Meanwhile, you were in complete hysterics. You were laughing so hard you had to gasp for breath as you doubled over and rested your hands on the other armrest. Stiles glowered, annoyed with himself for not expecting you to do something like this.

He pursed his lips, eyes twitching as you just kept going and going. After about a minute, he’d had enough. He practically lunged forward and grabbed you around the waist before pulling you onto the couch with him.

You yelped in shock, not expecting the quick move since you’d been too busy cackling at your own success. You settled down and blinked up at Stiles with wide eyes as you now lay beneath him, caged in by his legs on either side of your hips. His lips twitched into a frown and your found yourself glancing down toward them.

“That was so not funny.” He tried to look upset, but he could never actually stay mad at you. Plus, despite being the butt of that joke, it was a tiny bit funny.

“Oh, come on, it—” You suddenly broke into a fit of giggles as one of his hands brushed against your ribs.

His eyes widened in recognition as an idea popped into his head. His lips pulled into a slow, wicked grin. “Wait, are you ticklish?”

You instantly sobered up at his question. You’d gone this long without him finding out about that secret and you did not want him knowing now.

“No.” The word rushed from your lips a little too quickly, your eyes wide with apprehension.

He only gave you a brief moment to prepare before he attacked, both of his hands wrapping around your sides. His fingers wiggled against you quickly and you immediately dissolved into another round of uncontrollable giggling. Your back arched up off the couch in an effort to get away from the overwhelming sensation.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile earnestly down at you. In this moment, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He decided right then that if your laughter was the only sound he could hear for the rest of his life, he’d still be a happy man.

“Say you’re sorry.” He demanded, watching joyful tears stream down the sides of your face.

Your hands clasped around his as you tried twisting free of his tight hold. “I-I’m so-rry!”

His grin only widened, loving the sight of you squirming beneath him as his fingers continued, unrelenting. “And you’ll never scare me again.”

“I’ll nev-never...scare...you a-again!” You gasped the words out, your stomach starting to ache as your muscles contracted repeatedly.

He stopped as suddenly as he’d started and you sagged against the couch with a heavy sigh of relief. Your heart was racing in your chest and it felt like you’d just done a ridiculous amount of sit-ups. Stiles smirked down at you triumphantly and pushed off the couch before offering a hand so you could pull yourself up.

Once you were both upright, he grabbed the remote and turned the movie off. You pouted a little, knowing there were still about thirty minutes left, but couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. You figured he’d be done after that. He quickly flitted through Netflix until he found what he wanted. 

You fell back with a groan as he clicked on one of his favorites: Clueless.

It wasn’t a bad movie. You actually enjoyed it the first five times you two had watched it. By now, though, you must’ve seen the damn thing at least a hundred. You could both quote the whole thing, something he was proud of while you were very much not.

“Payback’s a bitch.” He declared simply before discarding the remote somewhere on the floor. 

He leaned down on the couch and opened his arms expectantly. You rolled your eyes at the fact that he’d somehow gotten his way again, but didn’t hesitate to curl into his chest.

You chewed on your bottom lip to hold in a chuckle as the movie started, already plotting next years prank. You knew it would take at least that long to convince him into watching anything even remotely scary again.

You’d have to figure out a way to outdo yourself when the time came, and you were already looking forward to it.

[jensengirl83]

Unsung Verses Chapter 9

Rockstar!Dean x plus sized reader

Word Count- 3364

Summary-Y/N and Dean have been best friends since high school, in a band together, and dated for a year but decided they were better off friends. They play gig after gig trying to get discovered, but once they sign a record deal, will fame be all it’s cracked up to be? Or will it be too much for their relationship to handle? Join them on their adventure to fame and find out!

Warnings-  Angst, Fluff, Language

A/N- Song in this chapter is “Please Forgive Me” by Bryan Adams

Lyrics will be in italics.

Thank you to @deanwanddamons​ for being my beta for this series!

Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics​

Series Masterlist

Series Spotify Playlist

The playlist is a big part of the series!

Dean was sitting on the couch, nursing a beer and staring at his watch. Y/N had taken a cab from the recording studio, saying she needed some time alone, and she hadn’t come home yet. He had called and texted her numerous times, but she wasn’t answering her phone. He was beginning to worry and was tempted to go out and look for her, but he knew that would just piss her off even more, so he decided to wait for her. 

He knew he shouldn’t have said what he had, but he was frustrated and let it get to him. Dean didn’t understand what she was so upset about, not used to her overreacting as she did. Y/N was usually the level-headed one of the two, and her outburst today was out of character for her. His thoughts were cut short by his phone ringing. He dove for it, hoping to see her face on his screen, but it was Sam calling. 

“Yeah?” he answered, the annoyance clear in his tone. 

“So, I take it she hasn’t made it home?” his brother’s voice boomed in his ear. 

“No, and she won’t answer her phone either. This isn’t like her, Sam,” he sighed. 

“I know, man, but all you can do is wait and talk to her when she shows up,” Sam’s advice wasn’t what he wanted to hear. 

“I’m just supposed to sit here and worry about her all night?! She knows better than this shit!” Dean shouted, his frustration growing the longer he waited for her. 

“She’s a grown woman, Dean. She doesn’t have a curfew, and I’m pretty damn sure she would have your ass for even thinking that you can tell her what to do,” his little brother told him. 

“I’m not trying to tell her what she can and can’t do. I feel like I at least deserve a call letting me know she isn’t dead somewhere!” he complained. 

“I get it, dude, but there’s nothing you can do. When she does come home, I wouldn’t start on her as soon as she walks in the door, either. It won’t end well,” Sam advised him. 

“I think I know her better than you do!” Dean growled, getting mad at Sam for thinking he knew Y/N better than he did. 

“Do you?” Sam asked, sarcasm thick in his tone. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean quipped. 

“If you know her so well, then you would understand why she was so upset earlier. Lisa was doing everything short of grabbing you by the junk, man, and you did nothing to shut it down,” 

“She was not! There was nothing to shut down,” Dean groaned. He had heard the same thing from Y/N and didn’t want to hear it from his brother too. 

“Whatever you say, Dean. I’m just trying to tell you what has made her so mad. If you don’t want to listen, I can’t make you,” Sam huffed. 

“Even if Lisa was hitting on me, Y/N should know how I feel about her and that I would never hurt her,” he said, trying to replay the day in his head, not wanting to believe they could be right. 

“I’m sure she knows you love her, but if it was reversed, and some dude was hitting on her right in front of you, and she didn’t say or do anything about it, how would you feel?”

Dean didn’t answer his brother right away. He had to admit that he would’ve been pretty upset if some guy had been hitting on Y/N, but he didn’t think Lisa had been flirting. If he had honestly thought she was making an advance on him, he would’ve shut her down. He opened his mouth to speak, but heard keys rattling in the lock. 

“She’s home. Gotta go,” he hung up and waited for her to walk through the door. 

His eyes stayed on her once she was in the apartment. He sat quietly as she took off her shoes and hung up her purse, walking past him to their room and shutting the door without a word. He groaned with frustration, throwing his head back on the couch, knowing this wasn’t good news. She was still upset, and he knew she should leave her alone until she calmed down. The alcohol flowing through his system didn’t help him to make the right decision. 

“Where’ve you been?” he asked as soon as he had the bedroom door open. 

“What? No hi honey? We’re going straight to the inquisition?” she asked sarcastically. 

“Where were you?” he repeated his question. 

“If you must know, I went to the beach and walked along the pier for a while,” she said, walking past him and into the en suite. 

“And you couldn’t answer your phone?” he was getting angry now. 

“I turned it off,” 

“What?! What if someone had needed to get in touch with you? What if there had been an emergency?!” he was almost shouting, throwing his hands around. 

“How many beers have you had?” she asked bluntly. 

“For your information, this is only my second one,” he huffed. 

“How much whiskey before that?” 

“This isn’t about how much I’ve had to drink! This is about you disappearing for hours while I sat here and worried myself sick!” he yelled. 

She stared at him for a few minutes, trying to decide if she should engage in the argument he was trying to have. She was still upset, which wouldn’t end well with the attitude they both had. She was tired, frustrated, and hurt. Never a good combination when you need to have a serious conversation. 

“Dean..” she sighed, but he interrupted her. 

“No, we’re having this conversation, Y/N. I deserve to know where my girlfriend has been for the past four hours!” his voice rising in pitch with anger. 

“Well, I deserve a boyfriend who won’t let a woman crawl up his ass right in front of me! We can’t always get what we want, now can we?” she spewed back, her voice laced with venom. 

“Really?! You’re going there?” he growled. 

“Yes, I’m going there! That’s the reason I left and needed time to myself!” she shouted, trying to hold in the tears that wanted to fall. 

“Well, you had plenty of you time today, sweetheart,” he smarted, causing her to glare at him. 

“Obviously not enough!” she bellowed, shoving past him and grabbing her pajamas and pillow from the bed. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing her arm to stop her as she tried to leave the room. 

“I’m sleeping in the guest room, and if you come in there, I’ll go get a motel room. Now, let go of me!” she yelled, yanking her arm from his grasp, stomping to the guest room, and slamming the door. 

“Son of a bitch!” he screamed, punching the bedroom wall, causing some plaster to crack and fall to the floor, taking some of the skin on his knuckles with it. 

He hadn’t wanted to fight with her, but once he had seen her come in, his anger got the best of him. The alcohol hadn’t helped the situation, but she should’ve at least texted to let him know she was okay. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

 Looking down at his busted knuckles, he sighed, walking into the bathroom to clean them up and get ready for bed. There was nothing else he could do tonight, and he didn’t want to make it worse by trying to talk to her again. He had already done enough for one night, and they both needed the time to cool off anyway. 

The sound of the front door closing roused Dean out of his slumber. He looked at the clock to see it was still early, and he had no idea who would be coming over at this time of the morning. He yawned and stretched, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, standing to go see who was rudely interrupting his sleep. 

Once he rounded the corner into the living room and kitchen area, he was confused. There wasn’t anyone there, and everything was silent. The smell of coffee invaded his senses, turning to see the full pot waiting for him. Y/N must have been up and the one who had shut the door. He spun on his heels to go back to bed when he saw a note on the kitchen island. 

Dean,

I didn’t want to wake you, but I’m going home. We have the next week off from recording, and I think it’s best if I’m not here. I can’t keep fighting with you. This break may be what we need to fix us or let us know that we can’t make it work. Take care of yourself while I’m gone. I love you. 

He froze in panic. She was ready to give up on them, and he couldn’t let that happen. If he hurried, he should be able to catch her at the airport and ask her to come back home. He didn’t want to fly back to Kansas, but if he couldn’t see her before she boarded, he had no other choice. He wasn’t going to let her go back thinking that they could be over. 

In a flurry of activity, he was dressed and out of the door. He was determined to get to her before she got on a plane, and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him. He broke speed limits and numerous traffic laws getting there, pulling into the drop-off line right behind a cab. He was out and running for the door when he heard his name. 

“Dean?!”

It was Y/N. She had stepped out of the cab that he had parked behind. He sprinted over to her, pulling her to the side, trying to catch his breath. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked. 

“I had to catch you before you left,” he panted, still out of breath. 

“Dean, we need a break. Last night proved that,” she whispered. 

“No, Freddie, I need you home with me. I’m sorry how I acted last night. I had too much to drink, and I was out of line. Please come home so we can talk,” he pleaded, praying she would listen. 

“I don’t know. We argued twice in one day, and I can’t keep fighting with you,” she sighed, “This was supposed to be a happy time for us, and it’s been shit so far,” 

“I know, sweetheart, and I’m sorry! Come back with me, and I promise we’ll talk it out. No more of me being an ass,” he smirked, seeing her trying to fight a smile. 

“You’re always an ass, Dean,” she chuckled. 

“I am, and you can call me worse than that if you don’t leave. Please, Freddie?” he begged. 

He could see her trying to sense if he was being honest, and he hoped she could see he meant every word. The thought of being without her had put things into perspective, and he was willing to do whatever she needed to make her stay. 

“Fine, but the fighting has to slow down. I know we will have disagreements, I’m not naive, but the shouting matches have to end. I refuse to repeat my parent’s relationship,” she choked, tears starting to brim in her eyes. 

“I promise, sweetheart! I drank too much last night and let my temper get the best of me, but it won’t happen again!” he declared, pulling her into a hug and kissing her head, “Now, can we go home? I need coffee,” 

“I made you coffee..” she looked up at him in confusion. 

“I saw your note, and I hightailed it out of there. I didn’t stop to drink it,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“Well, let’s go get you some caffeine,” she laughed, “Lord knows how you are without it,” 

“See, there’s my girl. You know me too well!” he smiled, kissing her softly before guiding her over to Baby, and putting her luggage in the trunk. 

“I do know you fairly well, huh?” she giggled. 

“Fairly well? Sweetheart, you know me better than I know myself!” he exclaimed. 

She was going to say that she obviously didn’t. Considering how he had acted last night, she wouldn’t have seen that coming but decided against it. If he was willing to try and do better, then she needed to do the same. She hadn’t been entirely innocent in their arguments yesterday, but she let her emotions overtake her. Her insecurities had made her upset with Dean when he hadn’t done anything wrong, in all fairness. He should’ve noticed that Lisa was throwing herself at him, but she can’t fault him if he honestly didn’t see it. She would give him the benefit of the doubt this time, but after they talk, he had to keep his eyes open to Lisa and her antics. 

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed that he had started the engine and they were pulling away from the curb. His fingers entwining with hers was what drew her out of her head, looking over to see his smile. She returned it as the butterflies erupted, and her heart skipped a beat. No matter how long she had known him, she couldn’t get past his exquisite face. It still made her wonder what a man like him would ever want with someone like her, but she couldn’t complain. When it came to lovers, Y/N had won the lottery, and she knew it. 

She kept the smile on her face, leaning her head back against the seat, listening to Dean sing softly to the song playing in the car. She could get lost in his voice and never want to be found. The richness and gravelly tone was comforting, but yet so sexy. 

As she was drifting away with the music, a gentle squeeze on her hand made her open her eyes and look at him. He glanced over to her and winked before focusing back on the highway. She sighed in happiness as she closed her eyes yet again, letting his voice lull her to sleep as they drove back home. 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, and she began glancing around the room. She had decided to nap when they had gotten home from the airport, not having slept well the night before. What she hadn’t intended was to sleep the day away. She could tell by the lack of light in the room that it was up into the evening hours. 

She groaned as she rolled out of bed, grabbing her robe, and making her way to the kitchen. After a nap like that, she needed caffeine and a lot of it, deciding on a cup of coffee. She didn’t care what time it was. As she was about to round the corner, she heard Dean singing softly.

She stayed hidden in the hallway, peeking around to watch him. He was writing a song. His guitar propped up in his lap, a cap on backward, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, and his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. She had to stifle a giggle at how adorable he looked. She continued to watch as he strummed his guitar in between writing down lyrics, the need for coffee eventually winning out. 

“Whatcha doing?” she asked sweetly, walking over to the coffee pot and starting it. 

“Hey, babe. I got an idea for a song while you were asleep. So, I was working out the melody,” he smiled at her. 

“Oh yeah? Any chance I can hear it?” she grinned. 

“I don’t know..” he whispered shyly. 

“Dean Winchester, are you being shy with me?” she chuckled. 

“Shut up,” he groaned, making her laugh. 

“Come on, can I hear it? Please?” she pleaded, sticking her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. 

“Fine, but don’t laugh,” he grumbled. 

“Why would I laugh?” she asked seriously. 

“It’s really sappy,” he said, turning his face away from her to try and hide his embarrassment. 

“Aww, what inspired you to write something like that?” she smiled, sitting down beside him on the couch, coffee in her hands. 

“You,” he said, looking her in the eyes, no hint of joking in his tone. 

“Now I have to hear it!” she exclaimed excitedly. 

“Okay, but let me get it all out before you say anything,” he sighed. 

“I will, promise,” she nudged his shoulder, making them both laugh. 

It still feels like our first night together

Feels like the first kiss

It's getting better baby

No one can better this

Still holding on

You're still the one

First time our eyes met

Same feeling I get

Only feels much stronger

I want to love you longer

You still turn the fire on

Y/N sat in silence as he sang. The lyrics and the emotional way he was singing were bringing her to tears. He hadn’t written a song like this since they were teenagers, or not that she had heard. 

So if you're feeling lonely, don't

You're the only one I'll ever want

I only want to make it good

So if I love you, a little more than I should

Please forgive me. I know not what I do

Please forgive me. I can't stop loving you

Don't deny me, this pain I'm going through

Please forgive me, if I need you like I do

Please believe me. Every word I say is true

Please forgive me. I can't stop loving you

The one thing I'm sure of

Is the way we make love

The one thing I depend on

Is for us to stay strong

With every word and every breath I'm praying

That's why I'm saying,

Please forgive me. I know not what I do

Please forgive me. I can't stop loving you

Don't deny me, this pain I'm going through

Please forgive me, if I need you like I do

Babe believe it, every word I say is true

Please forgive me, if I can't stop loving you

No, believe me, I don't know what I do

Please forgive me. I can't stop loving you

I can't stop, loving you

 He ended the song and put down the guitar, looking over to see tears falling onto her cheeks. He reached over to cup her face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. He didn’t want to make her cry, and that’s why he hadn’t wanted to play it for her yet. 

“Dean..” she whispered, not sure what to say. 

“I told you it was sappy. It was something that came to me while I was thinking about you,” he smiled, “It’s not that great, but..” 

“It’s beautiful!” she interrupted him. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, it’s..it’s..I’ve never heard a song so beautiful!” she cried, her bottom lip quivering. 

“Aww, Freddie, don’t cry,” he laughed, pulling her into a hug. 

“I can’t believe you wrote that about me,” she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder as he held her tight. 

“Why not? You know I’m crazy about you, sweetheart. It’s not a secret,” he chuckled. 

“I know, but that was incredible!” she sniffled. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I know I was out of line last night, and I deserved everything you said,” 

“Dean, don’t. We were both at fault. We need to put it behind us and move on. We can’t move forward if we dwell in the past,” 

“Okay, nothing but forward from here,” he said, kissing her lightly on the lips. 

“Only forward,” she agreed. 

She curled up into this side, wrapping her arms around his middle. They sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company and the affection they were showing each other. The light kisses and roaming hands eventually led them to their bedroom, where they spent the night in each other’s arms. Both showed the other just how much they loved them and made promises that would hopefully go unbroken. If only they could see what the future was going to hold for them.

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[johnkrrasinski]

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 5: Now I’m in Exile

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

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 8,310 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God! Did he…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eight months earlier…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have my word.”

“I’ll consider it, then.”

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

“I didn’t even say yes.”

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

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

-

Two weeks after the date.

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

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

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

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

Oh hell no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were directed to his voice mailbox.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, y/n.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Try me.”

“Adrian…”

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

Girlfriend. Huh. Well, that’s first.

“Steve Rogers.”

“Steve Rogers the actor?”

“Yes…”

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

“So you’re into the arsehole type.”

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

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

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

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

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

“I’m not walking away.”

“What do you mean?”

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

“Adrian, but…”

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

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

-

Steve went back to New York after spending nearly four months in Atlanta, shooting his movie. Man, he’d lost count on how many extras he had fucked in his hotel room but nothing felt as good as your pussy. He thought about your last text before he blocked you. You had claimed that you were pregnant with his baby. You must’ve lost your mind to think that he’d buy that shit.

So he picked up his phone, unblocked your number and pressed the call button. Three dial tones and a familiar voice answered. “Hello?”

“Hey baby, meet me at my place tonight.”

“Who is this?”

“Hillarious, y/n. I’m too fucking tired for jokes okay? Come here and suck my cock then maybe I’ll listen to your jokes.”

“Is this Steve Rogers?”

“Fuck yeah, it’s me, y/n. Who else do you think I am?”

A pause jammed the line. “I’m done, Steve.”

“What? The fuck do you mean you’re done?”

“I sent you thousands of texts and calls five months ago and you couldn’t even lift your fingers to answer.”

“I was in the middle of shooting, y/n. You know better than to call me while I’m working.”

“Oh, screw you, Steve. I’m pregnant and you didn’t even care? How much of an asshole can you be?”

“You were actually serious about that?”

“Of course you think I was joking. But don’t worry, it’s none of your concern now. We’re done. Don’t call me anymore.”

“Wait, wait! Y/N!” you cut off the line. “Ah shit.”

He tried to call five more times and you neglected every single one of them. In fact, you instantly blocked his number after the last phone call with him. You didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. You thought that Steve had forgotten about you since he blocked your number first so you never had to do it yourself. But of course, an entitled scoundrel such as he is would never stop taking and taking until you had nothing more to give.

It took you years of anguish, an unforeseen mishap and a beautiful stranger that ended up being the stupendous love you’d been looking for to open your eyes to the rotten core of Steve Roger’s heart. He ever only lusted for your flesh, he never gave a shit about you as a person.

You lived for the hope of it all, you cancelled plans just in case he’d call, and you never once suspected the pitfall, but you were no longer that foolish girl anymore. You had met a real man now and he led you to the path of love and happiness and Steve was no longer the most intrinsic thing on your mind.

-

Steve was going apeshit. He had never been rejected or denied before, he always had it so effortlessly. Especially by you. He thought he’d always have you by the palm of his hand, he thought whenever he asked you to jump, you’d always say “how high?”, he thought whenever you’d think about walking near to the door, you’d always turn around with a few sensual touches and sugarcoated words, but the renunciation that came out of your mouth sting like a bitch and he didn’t like his ego being trampled over.

He went to sleep later that night, dreaming about caressing you and kissing you as a lover would. Never once did he ever have such a dream about anyone before. Maybe he belonged to you more than he had realized all this time.

-

It was his fourth time this week of standing on the street of your apartment building after you returned his plenteous gifts that you certainly never even asked for or needed. Why would you? You could easily buy that necklace jewellery, that overpriced velvet dress, and those designer shoes with your own money. And even if you couldn't, your boyfriend could easily afford all those things for you too. But that motherfucker used his money to buy you shoddy gifts such as poorly designed accessories and tacky books and yet you happily accepted them? What a closefisted fool.

But who are we kidding? The sole reason why you didn’t accept those gifts is that you no longer cared about him. Those inducements didn’t work on you anymore. You were much happier with a better man now. What do you have to lose?

Rather than dwelling in self-pity and resentment, he hid in Range Rover in a black baseball cap and Tom Ford shades from the paparazzi and waited. Waited for her to come out. He had been religiously stalking every social media you had from another private account to track your activities. The last photo you posted on your Instagram was a picture of you and the scary college roommate of yours that he’d forgotten the name of. It was last Saturday.

“Always a delight to catch up with this one. Love you @natasharomanoff.”

under 281 likes and 32 comments. He scrolled through every single one of them and searched for any clue that might indicate your next move. Found one.

Wandamaximoff: “Don’t forget about me!! :(” so they are still friends apparently.

Natasharomanoff: “Same time next week? 💕”

“Absolutely,” you replied to the red-head.

Gotcha. He’ll be there.

So here he was, waiting for you to come out of that building to grab an Uber because he knew you weren’t so into driving. Except for that late-night rendevous of course, because he told you once that he’d hate for a single soul to know there was something going on between you and him. You were a secret and he’d like to keep it that way. Sooner or later, people are gonna talk and headlines are going to break the internet.

Two minutes later, you stepped out wearing a beige coloured cable knit cardigan and a grey jersey maxi dress underneath with a necklace around your neck. He couldn’t see it from this distance but the item had made a few appearances in some of your recent Instagram posts, and he already knew that you wore it wherever you go. It was an initial necklace of the letter ‘A’ in silver.

He hated the arising thought but he couldn’t help but think how ethereal you looked in your casual, maternal clothes. Perhaps even more than when you wore those petite dresses that always made you look uncomfortable whenever you wore them. You walked with grace and there’s this elegance that you just exuded without trying too hard. You could be wearing the most boring clothes or doing the most mundane things like looking down at your phone to text your Uber driver and you’d still look enchanting.

Man, how could he had been so blind all this time?

It shredded his heart even worse knowing that the growing fetus in your belly was his, but when that baby borns, another man would hold it instead of him and the kid would grow to learn that another man was its father instead of him. That motherfucker. He didn’t have any right in raising that baby. You were bearing his child. Not Adrian’s. You belonged to him. You always did. Fate had interlaced your paths long before you were given birth to this world. No one knew you better than him and vice versa. Not even that former roommate of yours or Wanda. Only him. He had to have you back. Whatever it takes.

He was so inflamed with debt and feebleness of his childhood that he turned into someone he used to loathe when he was younger. He strayed so far away from the path that his mom had paved for him to walk in and he wasted the one good thing in his life that kept him going when he had nothing. But he couldn’t turn back now, couldn’t cross out the mistakes that he did. The best he could do is make use of what he is capable of now and utilize it cleverly.

A scheme was formed in his head… He’d have you back in no time. One way or another.

-

Months went by and his patience emaciated. He had it all drawn out in his head but he had to be very careful. If he rushed or stepped on the wrong stone, he’d end up being decapitated and his career would burn to ashes. Especially with how the paparazzi and the media were always busting up his ass, like hunters with foxes. He couldn’t have that. He had worked too hard to see it all crumble beneath his feet.

He rejected all film projects and public appearances offered by his agent slash good friend, Sam Wilson. Sam was getting a little frustrated by Steve for being unreasonable. He was his most ambitious client, never one to say no to a good script and occasions that could advance his career and generate more profit for both of them.

But after he returned from Atlanta for his last movie, he had been shutting most people out. Sam was always his most trusted confidant, he was his agent, after all, it was his responsibility to make sure the client that earned him the most income was well in health and aptitude. But he was scratching his head trying to get Steve to open up to him.

Sick of Steve’s shortcoming, he called Steve and told him to come to the office.

“Fuck off, Sam. Why can’t you just talk on the phone?”

“Get your ass down here or I will come to your house myself.”

He groaned and hauled himself to Sam’s office, not in the mood for Sam’s garrulous nagging.

-

Steve knocked on Sam’s door and he saw Sam sitting in his usual black and white attire in his ergonomic chair. He had a frown on his face instead of his usual conceited womanizer charm. “What’s with the long face?” Sam asked.

“Nothing. I’m just worn out.”

“Cut the bullshit. Last time you got your ass to work was six months ago. What the hell is happening with you?”

“I just haven’t found any good script that interests me, Sam. And I told you, I needed a short break. I’ve been travelling nonstop for the past few years to shoot films and press tours, and now I just need to hit the pause button.”

“The Steve Rogers I know isn’t one to rest. He was power-hungry and always craved for more. You also rejected an Oscar potential role. Something’s going on and it’s deeper than just needing a break. C’mon, talk to me man. As a friend, not as your agent. Let me help you.”

It took him a few seconds to brace himself. He didn’t need to tell him the entire truth, he just had to ask Sam fora favour and then the Steve Rogers that made him millions would come back. “You know anyone who’s good at editing photos?”

“…What?” Sam was perplexed.

“Just let me know, Sam. You got any connections to editing experts? Hook me up.”

“What is fueling this?” Sam was bewildered. He looked at Steve like he had just grown two heads out of nowhere.

“Just trust me on this one, alright? You link me to a good editor and business will back as usual.”

“I know a guy.”

-

Your bachelorette party was fun. You, Natasha, Wanda and a few of your fellow colleagues were invited to the tea party at the garden of The Berkeley in London, which is the hometown of your fiance. You loved London and you always had such a good time whenever you paid it a visit with Adrian.

Now that the weekend was over, it was time to pick up little Nathan from your parents’ house. A beautiful baby boy was born three months ago and he was your parents’ joy. You never told them that the real father was the scrawny kid who used to lounge around on their couch every Wednesday afternoon when there was nothing much to do. Your parents loved Adrian as their own and it was all that mattered.

This baby is going to grow up with so much love from his parents and grandparents. From your chosen family who will become his aunties and uncles. He is going to be raised right in gentleness, affection, and sincerity. And it would never matter how he was conceived into this world in the first place.

You refused to leave this baby for more than five minutes but Wanda and Nat kept insisting that you needed some time for your own. One bachelorette party wouldn’t hurt. It’s only one weekend. Besides, your grandparents were obsessed with baby Nathan and they were going to take such good care of him while you were away, celebrating your single life with your girlfriends before you spend the rest of it with someone.

Now you were back home, you couldn’t wait to see your baby. You had been thinking about him endlessly in London and you missed holding him close to your chest. So you put on your coat and took your keys to drive to your parents’ house but you were stopped by a text message before you could open the door of your car.

“Enjoyed your bachelorette party?” An unknown number wrote.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Who the hell is this?” your thumb typed and pressed the send button.

“You know me. Better than anyone, just like I know you too better than your fiance.”

Your heartbeat quickened. “Stop texting or I will call the police.”

But before you could hit the send button, a picture of your face popped on the screen. But what disarrayed your mind wasn’t your face, it was the body. You were stark naked with your knees on a mattress and your ears teared up, and your lips were wrapped around a shaft.

What. The. Fuck?

“Got plenty more.” the unknown number threatened.

Another picture of you lying on the same bed, except this time you were on your back so your tits were clear cut visible and your mouth was parted slightly like you were moaning. A hand was wrapped around your throat and yours were pinned above your head by another one.

You were frozen in place and the warm autumn air descended into zero degree celsius. Your breath hitched and tears started brimming in your eyes. Who could have these pictures of you?

“I’ve got many more if you’re curious just how much of a slut you can be.”

“Stop. What do you want?” your fingers trembled.

“Meet me at the New York State Pavillon tonight, at 11 PM. Alone. Bring your baby. If you dare to report this to the cops, I will send these pictures to your fiance and post them on every existing site on the internet.”

The words didn’t leave any room for argument or further questions. So you drove to your parents’ house to pick up Nathan for the last time ever.

-

Adrian was working late tonight. He told you over the phone that a big project was in the work and so he and his team had to stay a little longer in the office to get it done as soon as possible. You were a bit relieved because that means, you could save yourself from whatever was bound to happen when you arrive at the abandoned historical world fair.

“Don’t forget to drink water. I love you.” You reminded him.

You wrapped Nathan in a blanket to keep him warm and you placed him in the infant car seat next to you. Your mind couldn’t stop flashing back to those pictures. Who could you possibly have done so wrong that they thought exaction would be the most fitting comeuppance. It took about 35 minutes via Grand Central Parkway which was the fastest route so you took it. Your mind also couldn’t stop asking questions, so many questions… But most importantly, who could this person be? Could it be… No, no way. You knew him. That was the last thing he’d ever do. Not because he wasn’t a nefarious person but because the world was constantly throwing themselves at him, offering him dollars and women.

He had too much in his plate to look over to yours and wanted to steal what was in it too. After months of not a single contact made, he must’ve had forgotten about you right? C’mon. This is ridiculous. But if it’s not him, then who could it be?

You arrived at Flushing Meadows a half-hour later and then you texted the number. “I’m here. What do you want?” you kept Nathan inside, fearing that whoever the culprit is might hurt him. So you stayed inside as consternation overcame you.

A few minutes later he answered, “step out the car and bring the baby.”

“Don't hurt my baby, please. Take me, but let him return safely to his father.”

“He will. Now, do as I say or I will publish these pictures.”

You trembled. You unlocked the door of your car and stepped out of it deliberately holding Nathan to your chest. You were careful to keep him from crying. The crisp air sent shivers down your spine. You closed the door and waited. Your eyes roved to all over the desolated site. Until it landed on those familiar blue eyes that held more ice than the air.

“…Steve?”

The man you used to know was different now. His face that used to be clean-shaven was now covered in a glorious beard that made him indistinguishable. His dusty blonde hair was slightly longer and he dressed in dark clothes that amplified the sinister atmosphere circling him.

You held Nathan closer to you with one hand behind his head, trying to keep him quiet. “Don’t be like that, let me see my son.”

“No. He’s not yours.” You spat.

He scoffed. “Say whatever you want, sweetheart but it’s my blood running in his little veins. In fact, I think we can take a DNA test and send it to your fiance, how about that? Also, how is Mr and Mrs. Y/L/N?”

“Leave my parents alone, Steve.”

“Are you going to cut that attitude of yours or do we have to do this the hard way? Either way, I don’t mind.”

“I’ll be good. Just please, don’t involve my parents.”

“Good, I know the good girl I knew is still somewhere inside you. Now, drop your phone to the ground and smash it.”

“…What? No! How am  I going to-”

He furrowed one eyebrow at you and you instantly understood the peril if you repudiated him once more.

You took out your phone from the pocket of your coat and dropped it to the ground. You stomped it with your foot until the screen was cracked, but Steve wasn’t satisfied enough with its damaged state so he stomped it harder than you did until it was smashed into two.

He led you to his Range Rover that he parked in an empty street and opened the backseat door and you slide into it with Nathan still tucked under your neck. Then he closed the door and walked to the driver’s seat and drove away to God knows where.

“Where are we going, Steve? Nathan needs to sleep. He can’t-”

“Quiet. He’ll be home soon.”

You didn’t dare to ask more questions. The vacancy in his eyes that were reflected on the rearview mirror was petrifying enough as it is. You sat and stared out the window and think about Adrian. Was he home yet? Did he try to call or text you? What would he do when he realizes you weren’t home? You couldn’t help but think that this morning was possibly the last time you’d ever see Adrian. God, you missed him already. You prayed to whatever God was listening that he would save you and your son soon.

Please Adrian, please do something. I love you.

The soft hum of the engine made your eyes feel droopy. You tried your best to stay awake but it was nearing midnight and the jet lag was still encompassing you so the fight in you to stay awake resolved. You gave in to the lethargy with Nathan dozing on your lap.

You were woken up by a shake on your shoulder and you found Steve standing on the open door. “Get up, we’re here.”

In your still languorous state, you got out of the car hugging Nathan close. “Where are?”

The sounds of crickets saturated the ambience as only the faint glow of the moon illuminated the trees around you. There was nobody around except you and Steve -and Nathan if a three months creature counts-. You put two and two together… Did Steve take you into the woods?

“Steve, what are we doing here?”

He didn’t meet your eye or answered you but instead, he walked toward what looked like a mid-century modern wooded oasis perched on a sloping site and set on stilts. The trees blended with the wood side exterior and wraparound decks. You had no idea whose house this belonged to but it was enchanting.

“Go ahead.”

You approached the resident that was incandescent with yellow lights, giving you a little peek to the furniture inside. You hoped whoever owned this property wasn’t sleeping yet, it was literally in the middle of the night, what the hell was Steve even doing taking you to a stranger’s house?

“Steve, I really don’t think this is a good idea…” as you stood freezing on the terrace. “Can we go back now? I really don’t want Adrian to worry.”

He fumbled with a key and unlocked the entrance. “Get in.”

Your eyes scanned the room to make sure there was no one around that might bust your ass tot he police for breaching before you stepped in. Your eyes peregrinated to every corner of the interior, relishing in the smell of oak and firewood.

He then took you for a quick tour to every section of the house without saying anything that would actually straighten your befuddlement. The decorations were full of vintage and antiques. “You like it?” Steve asked.

“I mean… it’s lovely for sure.”

“Good, then that means we won’t have to redecorate.”

“Wait, wait… What?”

“I bought this house for us, sweetheart. I knew you’d love the cozy design and it’s a perfect place for Nathan to grow up in.”

“Steve, what the hell are you talking about?”

“We’ll work things out. I’ll stay here with you for the rest of the weekend and I’ll only leave when I need to work. You won’t have to worry about anything else, I’ll take care of it.”

“God, you are crazier than I thought. I’m going home.”

He stopped you by blocking the entrance door and glared. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

“Steve, get out of my way.”

“You are mine. That baby is my son, you hear me? This is where you belong.”

“I’m gonna call the cops.”

“With what? Your phone?” He derided. “You don’t even know where the hell we are.”

“Adrian’s gonna come looking for me.”

“No, he won’t. Because I’ve sent those pictures of you to him and to your boss, who is it? Tony Stark? And you don’t have any life to get back to. This is your life now.”

Your heart sunk. No, no, he can’t be. He promised he won’t if you did what he said, right?

“You’re lying…”

“I did. I sent it while you were snoozing in the car. Shit, I’d pay a million bucks to see the look on that asshole’s face when he realized just how much of a dirty slut his fiancee is… Well, ex-fiancee now.”

“Why would you- you promised you wouldn’t if I did what you asked me to.”

“Well, that agreement has changed,” he said it so nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just pulverized the life you had built for yourself, the happiness you had stacked on a shelf that took you years to collect; a great job, a loving boyfriend, an adorable baby.

You wanted to lash out, you wanted to smack him in the face but you were too wounded by what you just heard. If you returned to Adrian and your work tomorrow, would you still even have them? Would they even accept you at all? You knew better than trying to report a powerful man such as Steve Rogers to the cops, he could bribe them, he could get a qualified lawyer. He could also make you lose the battle you never wanted to be a part of even if you were the victim, he could easily paint you as the mentally unstable woman that wanted to blackmail him for money.

The media had never captured pictures of you sneaking out of Steve’s apartment. Steve never took you for a stroll in the park or Sunday brunch because that’s all you were; a secret. Steve never wanted to be seen with you and Steve never wanted to share you with the world for whatever reason. Steve didn’t mind being photographed by models and other film stars, but not you. And now, he wanted to keep you in this little vault or calaboose so that you’d never escape and the traces of your history would be erased forever from the world’s memory.

Because Steve Rogers was no longer the man you used to ride around the bicycle with during the summer or the scrawny romancer you used to know, but he was a selfish man, a man with enough ego and ego to completely metamorphosed himself into whatever he wanted to be, no matter how ruthless and perilous that person he is. And now here you were, a mere object for him to assert his powers on, and you knew it wasn’t because of his love for his son or for you, but simply because he always got his way. Always.

“Now you can stay here, accept your new life with me and raise Nathan together, or you can face the disgrace that your fiance and your boss see you as. You think he’s gonna let you come back to his house? You think your boss is gonna shrug it off and let you come back as if nothing happened? No. You’re dispensable, and one way or another, you’re gonna come back to me. Even if you don’t, I’ll find a way to make you.”

“Why me? You could have every other woman in the world… Why me, Steve?”

“Because you think that you can repudiate me… You can’t. You think you can take away control from me… You can’t,” he gritted. “Not a single person in the world can.”

The tears in your eyes fell the floor as your legs wobbled. “Now, let’s not keep our son awake any longer yeah? Put him to bed. And then… You can be the good housewife you were meant to be and perform your duties.”

So he led you to the nursery room and you put Nathan in the crib. You wanted to fight, you wanted to reach that door and run… Even if you don’t know where you were going, as long as you could escape from this maniac. But you knew better than running away to in the middle of nowhere at midnight, in the cold with your son. You also knew better than thinking that Steve wouldn’t do whatever he could to get you back under his feet… so what was the point in countering anymore? Men like Steve Rogers always wins.

After you put Nathan to sleep, he led you to the master bedroom and ordered you to strip. The routine revokes old memory. “Get on your knees,” he commanded as he sat on the edge of the bed, like a king waiting to be served.

You did as he says and stood between his spread legs. “Take off my pants.”

You unzipped it and pulled it down along with his briefs. “Good girl, now, open.”

You parted your lips, wide enough to fit him and circled your tongue around the tip. Just like you used to because he liked the buildup and you knew it better than anyone. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged on it harshly then inched himself back deeper into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his girth as he hit the back of your throat each time he went back in.

“Ah fuck, I’ve missed that sweet mouth of yours…” He picked up the pace and you looked up to him. His face contorted in pleasure while you were feeling anything but. You feel repulsed, you wanted to push him away but you couldn’t. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of your mouth around him and threw his head back.

He moaned as he controlled your movement faster, trying to get himself off. Your eyes teared up as you looked up at him, and his cock throbbed. He climaxed deep inside your mouth as he kept your head down so every drop that he had was spilled down your throat. He kept you there until he had no more to offer and then he pulled himself out. “Get on the bed, ass up, face down.”

You followed his command and waited until you could feel him kneeling behind you. “Just like old times, huh?” He chuckled. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging your clit and then he invaded your body through your entrance. “Shit, you’re still so fucking tight. Did that asshole ever fuck you at all?”

You didn’t answer but moaned instead as you could feel him stretching you like he used to. And no matter how many times he had fucked you, you never truly got used to it. Adrian’s face came in flashes; you recalled how he made love to you, how gentle he would be with you and how intimate your lovemaking session was, a stark contrast to how Steve would treat you. You also compared their sizes, Adrian was average compared to Steve. Whenever Steve entered you, it always felt like an intrusion, an unforeseen attack, rather than your fleshes weaving into one.

He retracted himself and then pushed back in brutally and you whined. He held onto your hips in a bruising grip, as he pounded into you because he was never one for a tender start; he only had wanted to get himself off and that was it. “Does he fuck you this good? Bet you think of my dick when he fucks you.”

Your body jolted every time he jerked himself forward and he groaned and grunted. He hammered into you relentlessly and incessantly, causing you to clench around him. The wetness made squelching noises as you could feel your impending orgasm approaching, forming a dam inside you that was ready to break any second now. He sped up and he screamed in pleasure as the coil inside you broke, you reached your peak at the same time and he buried himself deep inside you, spilling every drop that he had deep in your womb.

“Bet that British asshole doesn’t even make you cum, huh? And I know you always fake it to get him off you.” He sneered as he detached himself from you and got off the bed to clean himself off to the bathroom.

You laid there in the same position, feeling voidness creeping up your heart like you once were; unwanted and alone. Steve had stripped you of your pride, dignity and honour once and even after you managed to climb out of that pit, he found a way to drag you back down once more and locked you under.

And there was nothing else that you could do except accepting your fate as his perpetual prisoner, living under the corruption and unforgiving authority of Steve Rogers. You could only hope that once Nathan is grown enough, you could somehow sneak him out of this confinement to live a much better life and eschew himself from turning into the monster that his father is.

[woopboopboop]

caffeine crash

A/N: fashionmajor!harry has been living rent free in my mind and i thought i need to get it written so here it is! tell me what are your thoughts on this or if you have any other fashionmajor!harry ideas or any ideas tbh. my ask is always opened. happy reading! :)

TW: one or two foul language

[coffee binging, demon dummy and disturbed sleep with fashionmajor!harry]

The ringing sound grows closer each second before she opens her eyes to realise that she has fallen asleep on the couch, again. y/n sits up groggy and disoriented, blinking for a few times to adjust her vision against the bright light illuminating the longue. She doesn’t pick up the call right away but rather shifts her gaze from her phone to the clock on the wall.

11:47 o’clock at night.

It is still early but for someone who haven’t been sleeping well for over a week, all that she can think of is that she is finally going to have more than four hours of sleep. More than four hours of heavenly sleep.

When her eyes return to her phone, the ringing stops. She waits for a few more seconds for another ring while picking up her book from the floor and shuts her laptop. The sleepiness catches up fast when the flat is silent and comfortably cold. Both make her look forward to her precious slumber. Since there is no sign of upcoming call, she stacks her book on her laptop, ready to carry them to her room.

Then her phone rings.

Voice cracking and breaking with sleep, she answers the call without looking at the screen which left her wondering who the hell decided to ruin her potential four hours of sleep. “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Harry.”

“Hmm?” The voice on the other line is low causing her to take a moment in recognising who it is. From the top of her head, there’s only one Harry that she knows.

“y/n, you’ve gotta help me,” he says in a hushed tone, “I think this studio is haunted.” Well if it isn’t her beloved flatmate and his untimely joke.

“Styles,” she says, stifling a yawn, “I know I barged in your room in the middle of the night last week. I’m sorry, alright? Doesn’t mean that you can pull a prank on me like this –”

“I’m not joking, y/n. I swear the fucking mannequins in this studio moved!”

Leaning back on the couch, she closes her eyes and sighs. “The mannequins? Really?”

There is rustling and she can hear his whispered curses. “y/n, please. I need your help.” There’s a slight quiver at the end of his words and her eyes open. “Can you… can you come get me?”

Any other day, she would ignore the call but she doesn’t find it in her to do so at that moment. She is a bit surprised to be honest. It’s rare to hear her flatmate who is usually confident (overly confident most of the times) and a tease that scared.

What if something is in fact happening to him? Certainly, it is not ghost but there are other possibilities. She sighs once again; guess she’s not going to have her good night’s sleep any time soon.

“Fine… just – where are you?”

///

The hours spent looking at the bright laptop screen where he is currently working on his sketches is straining his eyes and the angle in which he has been hunched at in the chair is starting to grind the muscles on his back. He finally let go of the mouse, rolling his head back and taking off his earphones as he closes his eyes.

The studio at night especially during a non-assignment week feels a little… off. At any other time, the place is filled with ticking of sewing machines, typing of keyboards, clicking of mouse and of course questions of who have extra pins or needles echoing around the room.

It’s lively.

Now, it’s empty except for him and there are only two sounds that he can hear; whirring of the air conditioners and also the faint music from his earphones.

Creak. His eyes snap open, head turning to the left side of the studio where the sound comes from. Okay, make that the third sound he can hear.

Maybe it’s not a good decision to do so because as soon as he turns to face that side of the studio, he is looking straight at all of the mannequins placed there. And it is silent. And creepy. One of the mannequins stand out more than others. Its dead eyes are looking directly at him.

“God, who think that giving them eyes is a good idea?” He grumbles to himself, shaking away any weird feelings and quickly turning to his laptop.

For the next minutes, his earphones are discarded on the side of his laptop while he focuses on his work. Halfway through adding shading and shadows on the sketches, out of the corner of his eyes, there is a slight movement. He tries to act unbothered despite his heart picking up pace at the thought of anything other than him in the room is moving.

Creak. He freezes then, heart thumping while he glances surreptitiously over the eerily looking mannequins crowd. He is not sure which is worst; the one with the dead eyes looking straight at him and is still doing so or one of them, that he is pretty sure has been facing the large studio window minutes ago, has its head tilted towards him.

The latter. For sure.

“Fuck’s sake…” he whispers, trying to control his breathing from getting too rapid. Looking over his fourth cup of coffee, he is nodding towards the array of disposable brown coffee cups on the table. “Of course, it’s the coffee. Too much coffee probably. God, I’m so tired and this took hou –”

He shuts up immediately when there’s another creaking sound. This time, when he turns his head ever so slowly, there is no movement but the mannequin that has its head tilted before has its arm stretched out half way.

God forbids if he is looking away from that thing again, he is surely going to be attacked. Eyes still on the mannequin, he grabs his phone blindly and call whoever is on his recent calls list without even planning on a proper course of action. All done from the corner of his eyes.

The sound of ringing fills his ear as he watches around him, taking in if there’s any shift happening. “Come on… pick up… pick up!” He hisses over the line. It feels like forever before it clicks and he hears a female voice, groggy with sleep. He takes off his phone from his ear for a moment to see who exactly is he calling.

y/n.

She is rightfully irritated over the phone given the fact that he is interrupting her sleep but his safety is more important. There’s no way he is going to be dead before finishing his study and totally not because of those damn mannequins.

However, he is also very much aware that he is not in any way equipped to deal with spirits, ghosts or demons. Not alone, at least. So, any chance that he has to get help is important even if the last resort is to beg for it. Since saying the studio is haunted and one of the mannequins is moving are not enough sign for help, he relents the last of his pride and go for the last resort.

“y/n, please. I need your help.”

There’s a three very long seconds after his short plead. And in that seconds, he keeps his eyes on the mannequin, waiting for it to make another move. Then, at last, he hears her sighs heavily and asks him where he is.

As soon as y/n hangs up, he realises that he is left alone with the creepy crowds on the left side of the studio. Fear creeping up his spine and he just hopes that if anything could happen right that moment, it is for y/n to be there a little bit faster.

///

It's not until she is out the door the question of how she is going to get to Harry strikes her. Hers and Harry's campuses are not that far from their flat with hers being closer compared to his. The only problem is that he is approximately 10 minutes away from the flat and she sure is not going to walk 10 minutes to his campus at night.

Re-entering the flat, she checks if she is lucky enough to find his car keys hanging by the wall hook near the front door. And she is, which brings her to this moment of driving his car to pick him up.

At times she wonders why he opts for walking when he could just drive. It defeats the purpose of having a vehicle she thought but then again, it’s Harry. Most of the times, she doesn’t know what is going on in his mind.

As she reaches the gate, she prays with every fibre in her body that she will get through the guard without any bombarding questions. Surprisingly, entering the campus is made easier with a piece of vehicle registration sticker with a campus logo. She gets in with a once-over and friendly hand raise.

"Well... that's easier that I thought it would be," she mutters to herself while navigating her way to the fashion department building by following the signs and remembering what Harry had told her.

Thankfully, the studio is on the ground floor and the large windows gives her access to see whatever is happening inside. From afar, she can make out a side profile of a figure. Afraid that she is going to honk at a possible stranger, she reaches out for her phone and dial his number.

The person seems to be startled before bringing their phone up to their ear and she hears his voice. It is in fact Harry.

“I’m here,” she says. She sees him straightening up, presuming that he is going to stand up and leave. Yet, he is still fixed to his previous position.

“Oh! Okay, alright. Um… can you come in?”

She rests her head against the steering, exhaling slowly. She swears if it isn’t for the fright in his voice, she would turn the car around and drive home. “I don’t know the wa–”

“Use the main door. The studio is on your right, first door.”

///

He doesn’t know he has been holding his breath until he exhales slowly when he heard the door to the studio opens. To know that he is not alone is relieving. So relieving that he wills to peel his eyes for few seconds from the mannequin to look over to y/n who is standing at the door with exhausted frown on her face.

He looks tired, she decides, but unscathed which is good. Her eyes trails following his to the other side of the studio and sees a herd of mannequins. She has to admit, they do look creepy. And with those eyes? She understands why Harry would be petrified because holy mother of god those dead eyes are looking straight into your soul.

Harry senses that she is not going to be standing there and waiting for him for the rest of the night. After all, he is the one who asked her to come and get him from the studio. Eyeing the demon dummy (a very fitting name if you ask him), his hands are doing the work of closing his laptop without shutting it down and practically just shoving all of his stuffs in his bag.

“It’s 12 on a Thursday night. And here you are, making friends with whatever spirits there is in this place,” she says to him bitterly, leaving Harry who is frantically locking the door behind her.

Harry is not really in a clear mind to give a retort. The rest of the coffee cups had been thrown into the bin in the hall as he follows her out of the building to the car park.

“Tell me, Styles. Am I not right if I say you’re hallucinating?” She asks as they drive away from the campus. She would love for him to drive the car home in return of disturbing her sleep. That is if she doesn’t notice his restless hands.

“I am not hallucinating! I see it with my own eyes!” He says defensively, turning his head to have a proper look at her while making his point.

“They are just plastic. Why don’t you just get out from there? It’s not like they are going to chase you.”

“Mannequins. I can’t just look away!” He shifts his gaze out the window, occasionally glancing to the side mirror, hoping those creepy herd don’t suddenly have functioning legs. “What if they grip me by the neck when I turn my back from them?”

She shakes her head. “You had too much coffee.”

At the mention of coffee, he remembers all of the sketches that he needs to finish. If he can’t finish all which he intended to do before all his plan went down the drain, at least, he can finish half of it. And he almost did. “Well, I need to finish my sketches,” he grumbles.

The tires spin beneath them. y/n shifts gears and the car rolls to a stop in front of their flat building. “No. You need sleep.”

The rest of their way up to their shared flat is filled with silence. Even when they are already in it. Both don’t feel like talking; y/n can’t wait to finally sleep while Harry starts to feel whatever happening just now is a little bit ridiculous.

“Hey, y/n,” he calls out. She has her hand on her bedroom door handle then, ready to push it down. “This stays between us, right?” He gestures the space between them, internally cringing a bit on the how he is embarrassed about the whole thing.

It is annoying to have him call her at ridiculous hour of the night but the reason behind the call is amusing nonetheless. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she shrugs.

Well, he half expected that. He thought that he is never going to hear the end of it for at least two days. Seems like she let it slide like she always does with most things.

“Besides, you’re worrying about the wrong thing. You should be worried about the mannequins standing outside your bedroom window tonight. Watching you sleep.” She says as she wiggles her eyebrows with a smirk on her face.

Okay, maybe he speaks too soon.

He gives her side-eye, seeing her entering her room. From the look of it, she surely is enjoying taking the piss out of him. “Hahaha. Very funny.”

As he enters his bedroom and flicks the light switch on, he hears her laughing and bidding him a ‘Good night.’ One thing that he knows is that it is not going to be a good night. He also knows that his bedroom light is going to stay on until the sun rises.