#I will always find new ways to draw sleepy bun

[one-bunny-a-day]

08/03/2023

[karikarasuno]

The Sun Doesn’t Shine in Tokyo, Part II

Pairing: Tanaka Ryunosuke x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Angst, Character Death(s), Violence, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Mentions of Blood, Grief, Smut, Soft Sex, Vague knowledge of Computer Engineering (once again, please bear with me)

Summary: The end is near. Time is quickly running out. Hope is fleeting, but not entirely gone.

Part I | Part II

Word Count: 9.8k

June 17, 2065

8:24am

It’s morning. The digital clock on his bedside table flashed 8:24am, the angular digits barely seen through the grogginess of your sleepy brain. You shift to go back to sleep, which easily draws you in until there’s a stinging burn on your side. Your wound is itchy and uncomfortable.

“Shh,” fingers are brushing the hair on your forehead from your eyes. “Just gimme a second. This is gonna hurt.”

A wet cloth is pressed to the wound, the stinging sensation returning as you feel the alcohol clean out the dirt and grime from the night before. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip to deal with the temporary pain. “I’m sorry, a little longer then I’ll be done.”

The cloth is removed as you sit up to rest on the headboard, too awake after the cold stinging to go back to bed. A calloused hand comes to stroke your cheek, chapped lips pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “Morning,” you croak, voice rough with sleep.

“G��morning, baby,” you can tell he’s been up for a while, the hoarseness that usually cracks his voice almost entirely gone.

“I should probably shower and then head downstairs. I never actually got the chance to brief everyone on what happened.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yamaguchi already did late last night. So just shower and meet me in the conference room for breakfast,” Tanaka explains before he pushes off his side of the bed, fully dressed as he places clean clothes for you on his dresser. Yachi probably gave them to him this morning and you remember you have to apologize to her today since you most likely sent her into cardiac arrest last night.

Lethargy and anticipation dictate the way you go about your morning, hardly remembering how you ended up sitting between Tanaka and Yamaguchi at the first officer strategy meeting of the day, showered and your gash freshly wrapped. Suga and Daichi are running it, images of the city’s infrastructure holographically displayed above the switchboard. The 3D landscape spinning and flickering as they outline different plans for tonight.

You didn’t realize your leg was bouncing beneath the table until Tanaka’s hand spread out on your thigh to stop it. “You listening?” He questions staring at you intently. Your thoughts have honestly traveled elsewhere, so you shake your head no.

“Do you have the tracking device?” Daichi repeats.

“Oh, no I don’t,” you lean forward and adjust your posture. “I slipped it into Oikawa’s pocket before he lost his shit, but I’m not sure if it survived the crash,” you explain, recalling the exact moment when he was gripping your chin, the distraction of your dagger on his sternum giving you enough time to plant it on him.

“We’ll have to ask Kenma then, maybe he can still locate it. And if that’s the case we’ll be able to see where he is, what he’s up to.”

The meeting continues, your attention drifting in and out trying to formulate a solid plan of your own. Something to ensure that everyone makes it out alive. After your encounter with Iwaizumi you were especially concerned about fighting an army of volunteers. Not that you weren’t confident in the people here, but you managed to plunge your dagger into one of his arteries and he still got up at Oikawa’s demand.

“The tunnels are a no go,” Yamaguchi says at some point when they began deciding on entry routes. “The grenade I threw blocked the only entrance we had into the basement.” You nod in confirmation as you remember the chunks of rubble and debris that were now closing in the stairs.

“The main entrance is our best shot. It’s bold and what they’ll least be expecting. There’s also a chance we could disarm the alarm system if we can break through the firewall. We have the manpower, the only unknown are the volunteers and what they’re fully capable of,” you add on, the floorplan of the estate replacing the flickering city. You stand to describe the various points of entry and what you assume would be the places they are most likely going to have guards stand outside.

“You should have the long range fighters stationed here,” your finger hovers over a patch of tall trees near one of the side doors. “And here,” you shift to point out an area near the front that is also beneath the shadows of the woods.

“Those specialized in hand to hand combat should form the frontlines, while everyone else flanks out in a diamond formation. Yachi in the middle with y/n and Yamaguchi,” Suga suggests while he visually demonstrates the formation on one of the large screens. “Since Yachi doesn’t have much combat experience Tanaka and Terushima will go with them,” he tacks on, giving Tanaka a pointed look.

“And obviously because the two of you are practically useless with your injuries,” Suga teases before he proceeds to assign and explain other roles. The rest of the meeting moves forward without a hitch and everyone agrees on the plan that factored in as many uncertainties as possible. The chairs scrape against the floor as the officers shuffle out to start preparing for tonight.

You stand with Tanaka’s hand in yours and start to make your way through the first floor before you stop in front of one of the only staircases in the building. “I’m actually gonna go visit Kenma,” you explain as Tanaka looks at you silently confused.

“I wanted to ask him a few questions before tonight,” you add as you slip your hand from his and he gives you a solid shrug.

“Alright, I’ll be in the vault, checking the inventory,” he grins, his hands circling your waist to pull you into his sturdy frame. “Maybe I’ll be able to find you a better weapon,” he bends to toy with the dagger on your thigh that you refused to travel without after last night.

“Better?!,” you feign offense. “You don’t think my dagger makes me look sexy?” You grin cheekily at him as his own teasing smile spreads across his face.

“Oh, I always think you look sexy. But you know what would make you look even sexier,” he leans down so that he’s staring directly into your eyes, voice dipping low. “Protection,” his eyes glint with mischief and a knowing smirk settles on his lips.

You shove him lightly and playfully smack the side of his head, his beanie shifting sideways. “Haha so funny,” you roll your eyes as your smile brightens. “Gimme some options and we’ll see.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he responds when you turn around to walk away, his palm smacking your ass as you bound up the steps. “Payback for the beanie,” his hands rise in defense before he winks at you and turns to keep walking down the hall.

You take the steps two at a time like you usually do, except now you have your healing gash as a reminder to slow down. Unlike the other floors in the building the second level is a single large room coined the “Zone” by many of the guys. One half hosts Kuroo’s test lab, usually unkempt with sulfur and boiling chemical concoctions covering the surfaces. The other half belongs to Kenma with his various half built devices stuck between keyboards and multicolored wires.

While Kuroo often ventures out into the other rooms of the hideout to seek socialization, you can always find Kenma sitting exactly where he is now. Headset nestled over his ears, hair pulled back in a messy bun with his controller tight in his hands.

You walk up behind him and pull one of the cuffs from his ear. “Hey loser,” you release the set from your grasp so it snaps back on to his head, this time all lopsided.

“Not a loser,” he responds as he shakes his head so that the headphones fall back around his neck. His screens flashing a bold ‘victory’ to affirm that he is, in fact, not a loser.

“You are the only person I know who can play video games the day our world might end,” you say with a laugh when he shoots you an apathetic stare.

The relationship between you and Kenma developed rather naturally, a sibling connection unfolding before either of you realized. On your many sleepless nights wandering and exploring the compound you often found yourself here. At first, you stumbled upon him accidentally in the middle of the night, while everyone else was either asleep or working on their own projects to prepare for the upcoming conflicts. He awkwardly invited you to sit with him as he played or tinkered with new or semi thought out inventions. You really only watched at first, curiosity overcoming your intentions to not disturb him, but you soon found yourself asking questions. The questions turning into overnighters where he would teach you how to play his favorite games or help him code software he would embed in his tiny devices.

He puts his remote down and swivels in his chair to face you. “I was brainstorming,” the corner of his lips quirk up a little as he gets up and bumps your shoulder with his to step around you.

“Brainstorming what exactly?” You ask, your eyes following his thin frame as he walks to his crafts table and picks up a few things. He tilts his head to signal for you to walk over to him. “I’ll show you.”

You move to stand beside him and he hands off the small devices to you. You inspect them and realize they are watches, complete with a touch screen center and small dials on each side.

“These are reinforcement devices,” he says. “I don’t have enough for everyone but you clasp them around your wrist and twist the dials. A shield will manifest from here,” he points to the watch’s face, and what you incorrectly assumed was a touch screen surface is actually a reflection of the software’s veil.

“This is actually the code you helped me develop a few weeks back.” You smile up at him fondly, remembering the argument you got into after he refused to explain what it was for.

“How many do you have?”

“Six are complete,” he answers. “But I also have this.” He grabs a larger cylindrical device from a shelf attached to the wall.

“This is essentially a bigger version of those. The shield covers way more surface area. You can stick it to a wall or door, enter the pin and the shield will reinforce the structure to protect whatever’s inside,” he finished explaining before he places it back on the shelf.

“When did you have time to do all of this?” His production rate when it comes to his inventions is impressive to say the least.

He takes some of the reinforcement devices from you to organize them beside the others. “You know I hardly sleep,” he shrugs as if his lack of rest doesn’t bother you.

You open your mouth to voice this for the millionth time, but he lifts his finger to shush you. “Don’t. I get it,” he interrupts.

“Fine. But this doesn’t explain why you were brainstorming,” you say instead of nagging him about his awful sleep schedule, not that yours was really any better.

“Right,” he slides you over by your shoulders to switch spots. “This is for you,” he opens the locker in the corner of the room to pull something out. It’s another round device about two inches thick with small legs to hold it up.

“What’s this?” Your intrigue successfully piqued.

“Just watch,” he walks to Kuroo’s lab table and pushes some stuff around to clear a spot.

“I’ve been working on this for a while now,” he grabs his phone from his back pocket and punches in his password and then opens an app. The device begins to illuminate as streaks of ultraviolet waves burst through the top. “It’s a simulation machine that kinda works. I can’t seem to get the graphics right for some reason, hence the gaming,” he explains.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t have been playing regardless,” you say, which earns you an eye roll from him and a chuckle from you.

“Pay attention,” he points to the device, redirecting your attention instead of answering you. There’s a distinct humming noise before the room’s image starts to ripple. A pixelated version of a beach envelopes the room warping and disguising the furniture.

“It’s not perfect, but it’s an illusion that can trick enemies into believing they are somewhere else,” he whispers, looking a bit sheepish. “I’ve only been able to generate this stock photo, but eventually I want it to replicate different rooms or even scenery we haven’t experienced in a while.”

“Kenma,” your voice is wistful as you absorb the sway of the palm trees, the gentle rolling of the waves lapping the shores. “This is amazing. H-how did you do this?”

“I had Yachi’s help. She came up one night freaking about the control center’s algorithm and asked if I could help since you and Yamaguchi were already asleep. We ended up talking about sunsets, mainly her rambling,” he lightly snorts. “So I showed her some games with high resolution graphics that had some pretty cool sunsets and she came up with this. She coded it really quickly while I built it. I just haven’t been able to fix the kinks.”

You were near tears. The words escaped you, but mostly because you could never describe what you were feeling out loud. The snapshot of a panicking Yachi running to Kenma makes you laugh because there is no way he calmed her down without having a silent stroke of his own.

“And this is for me?” You ask for clarification before the tears really start falling.

“Yeah,” he raises his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Other than computer engineering, you are really the only thing we have in common.”

“Kenma, I-,”

“Woah!” You both turn to what used to be the floor’s entrance, which is now limitless sand. “The beach! This is so cool!” Hinata squeals, his eyes lighting up with wonder and amazement.

“Oh hey, Shoyo,” Kenma fumbles with his phone to turn off the display.

“What’s up?” You’re grateful for his interruption, afraid you were about to become a sobbing mess in front of Kenma, which he would not have appreciated.

“Tanaka asked me to come get you,” his smile is wide and enthusiastic. “Said something about your options being ready.”

“Of course he actually went through with it,” you shake your head not the slightest bit surprised.

“Also said if you don’t hurry he’s not afraid to kick some ass,” Hinata adds on, his smile turning impishly cheeky.

“Of course he did,” you laugh before turning back to Kenma, who’s a subtle shade of red.

“We aren’t done here,” you tell him, knowing how flushed he gets when he’s alone with Hinata and you walk away from him backwards until you’re standing behind your new guest. “Watch him, he’s known to cause trouble,” you whisper to Hinata but it’s still loud enough from him to hear you.

“Oh, I know,” he plays along, only for Kenma’s neck to burn a brilliant red as Hinata steps further into the Zone. You make kissy faces behind his back to tease him as much as possible before you run down the stairs, narrowly missing the object he threw at you.

June 17, 2065

4:57pm

The gun is spinning on the turntable in front of you. The gun you and Tanaka compromised on. It’s a small black pistol, the deep metal drinking in the harsh light from the screens lining the walls as it spins and spins. In the center of the room, Yachi is typing vigorously, the reversal code practically finished, but she tended to be a perfectionist, so you sit beside her waiting for it to be done.

“I can help,” you offer, hoping she will let you this time. She just glances at you, a flick of anxiety flashing in her gaze before she shakes her head no.

“Why not?”

“It’s already done,” she responds, fingers still tapping on the keys. “I just have to double check if everything is in order.”

“Well, what is it?” You’ve been begging for her to share the code with you, trying to convince her that it would be smarter if more than one person had it, especially if she’s not able to reach the control center in time.

“Not telling you,” her hair falls to cover her face as she looks down at her stilled hands. “It has to be me. I just need for you to get me there.”

“Yachi, c’mon, at least tell Yams,” you argue, not understanding why she won’t share the information with anyone.

“S-sorry,” is all she says in response, and you let out an agitated sigh because you won’t win this argument. “What’s with the gun?” She motions towards it with her hand as she leans back in her chair, avoiding the initial topic.

“Tanaka doesn’t believe my dagger is enough protection,” you look back down at the spinning gun and your chest tightens at the mere idea of having to use it. “It was this or a fucking katana.”

She laughs, the abruptness startling you, but she doubles over and wheezes. A blush is blooming on her cheeks at the lack of oxygen going to her lungs, her laugh turning into hiccups and breathless gasps. It’s contagious, your own laugh soon wracking through you.

“I don’t get it,” you say through snorts. “What’s so funny?”

“I cannot imagine you wielding a katana,” tears of laughter are decorating her face. “You’d probably accidentally cut off your own arm before you manage to land it on anyone else.” She’s wiping the tears from her eyes as her breath slowly returns, her cheeks still flushed a pretty pink.

“I take offense to that. I would be such a badass with one,” you rebuttal.

“Sure,” she squeaks out.

“I just might need a little practice first.”

She falls into a fit of giggles again, probably imagining you tripping over the long blade forgetting that she’s the clumsy one. Your cheeks are hurting from smiling, a warmth rooting itself within you, and for the first time in weeks the flower of hope feels like it will bloom soon. The delicate petals unfurling with a promise of prosperity, a promise that things will be okay.

“Hey,” Tanaka bursts through the door, a little out of breath like he ran here. “Kenma was able to track Oikawa. He’s still at the estate, probably never left.”

“You think he’s still alive?” You jump from your seat, Yachi at your side in an instant.

“Definitely. Yamaguchi said you left him in the basement, but Kenma can see his movements and he’s currently on the move.”

“But what if it’s not him? What if someone just found his body and is carrying it around?” You are skeptical, unsure if Oikawa was able to survive two gunshot wounds and a crash.

“First of all, that’s nasty,” he wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Second of all, I don’t think it matters. The person, Oikawa or not, is heading to the control center. We have five hours before the thing is set to explode, so we leave in four.”

“Got it. The reversal code is ready,” Yachi interjects before you can. “I’m ready,” she straightens her shoulders, eyes determined as she meets yours.

You grab the gun that is now still on the table and place it in the holster on your hip. “Me too.”

June 17, 2065

9:22pm

The front of the estate is surrounded by steel poles, roughly 16 feet tall. Weaved between each pole are copper wires that conduct heat and electricity constantly, making it difficult to enter without burns or electric shocks. Fortunately, Kenma was able to hack into the compound's firewall rather easily since it had been abandoned for months and disconnected the alarm system.

The group gathers around the front gate, those who specialize in combat form the first row and once you enter the plan is to split into various smaller groups. You would head straight to the control center with Yachi and Yamaguchi, while Tanaka and Terushima serve as bodyguards. Yamaguchi’s ankle is doing better, his limp gone and the reinforcement device adorning his wrist. You are all wearing bulletproof vests, the material surprisingly thin and breathable as it’s strapped over your tank top. Your cut is safely hidden beneath it.

The gates are set to open at 9:30, the distance fighters successfully hidden in the trees while everyone else fans out on either side of your group. Kuroo managed to hand out flash grenades and smoke bombs to every unit, the sulfur in the lab results of failed bombs that blew up prematurely. You search the crowd counting the bodies, committing the number to memory; twenty-six, hoping that it will be the same when you exit tonight.

Kenma is standing next to Kuroo and you watch as he sends up a mini drone. The device flying into the trees and an image of Hinata and Nishinoya flash on his phone. The boys are settled high up in the trees, Noya’s crossbow strapped to his back, while Hinata is busy tying knots into rope, his knives and shuriken hidden beneath his clothing.

You start to feel the signs of a tension headache strain your neck, the anticipation sucking your soul from the confines of your skin. Tanaka is kneeling in front of you and you stare at the muscles of his back flex and relax through his black sleeveless shirt as he laces up his boots. Once he’s finished he twists on the balls of his feet to face you, hands going to check your laces and tucking the hem of your cargos into them, your ankles thanking him for the extra support.

“It’s almost time,” he whacks your thigh so you look down at him. “You ready?”

You give him a small nod, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You remember the plan, right? Once we enter those doors you stay behind me. I’ll say when the coast is clear, but if things get too crazy, Yachi is the priority,” he rises from his position. “Get her to the control center, then find me. Don’t do anything irrational,” he finishes.

You give him a nervous laugh, “I’ll try.”

“No, it’s not you’ll t-”

“I’m kidding, Ryu,” you cut him off.

“Not funny, love,” he turns around to settle next to Terushima, whose arm is extending behind him, pinky linking with Yamaguchi’s.You link your arms with Yachi’s as you wait, only five more minutes left.

“Welcome!” Everyone’s attention snaps to the balcony above the double doors of the entrance. Oikawa is standing there, pale and bloody. “I wasn’t expecting to have this many guests come to watch the end with me. This is so heartwarming.”

The gates creak and shudder as they shuffle open. Volunteers begin to reveal themselves from their hiding spots to gather at the front doors, but no one on your side of the gates moves. Your hand wraps around the hilt of your dagger and your stance shifts so that Yachi is partially blocked by you.

He spots you in the crowd and he has the nerve to smirk at you, the once endearing gesture looks pained on his hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. A daunting beauty transforming his features. “Oh, darling, I’ve been expecting you,” he waves with his good hand, his injured arm is supported with a sling.

“I’m sure you’re glad to see me alive, but Iwa didn’t make it,” you can’t tell if he actually is pained by this with the way he sulks and leans on the rails. “So obviously I can’t let you leave here alive,” he giggles, almost drunkenly. “An eye for an eye or whatever they used to say.”

“I’ll kill him,” Tanaka snarls, gun pointing at Oikawa. You grip his arm to yank it down, fully aware that now is not the time.

“What was that about being irrational?” You hiss at him so he lowers his weapon. Oikawa sees this and you watch his entire demeanor change, his taunting gaze igniting into something far more terrifying.

“Who’s this, princess? You brought me a new toy?” His tone is flat, monotone. “Since you killed my last one!” You flinch at the rise in his voice, the rebels frozen in disbelief, a motivating fear beginning to billow through the crowd.

“We need to move,” Daichi’s deep voice diminishes Oikawa’s immediately. “NOW,” he screams and he’s the first on the move, gun firing shot after shot in the volunteers’ direction.

“STOP THEM!” Oikawa’s shrill shriek is hardly heard above the sounds of battle, but the volunteers do not hesitate. Their smell smacking the air from your lungs, no description adequate enough to warn you. Yachi’s hand is now firm in yours as you run close behind Tanaka. Your dagger unsheathed as your biceps tense with untapped energy. You slip through the front doors quickly, most of the fighting designated to those who formed the front lines.

You deduce that the volunteers are abnormally strong as you witness them tear metal like paper, and crack the estate’s concrete in single punches. Luckily, they are incredibly slow, their limbs swing and jerk in unsynchronized movements, as if they are babies taking their first steps. The rebels on the other hand are nimble, even the largest members fight with the agility of trained ballerinas, their movements fluid and graceful.

You yell for Tanaka and Terushima to take the stairs down to the basement. The claustrophobic idea of being stuck in an elevator is enough to stop your heart. Terushima reaches the door first, the force with which he tears it open rips it from its hinges.

You fly down the first flight, your grip on Yachi never loosening. Yamaguchi brings up the end, he’s holding nunchucks that you have no idea where he got them from. He flicks his wrist to swing them at one of the volunteers that followed you, the wood thwacking against her nose, splatters of blood erupt from her skull and dot Yamaguchi’s skin as she crumples to the floor, her body splaying out across the steps. “Don’t stop running!” He yells, hand grabbing Yachi’s elbow pushing you down the final flight to the basement.

The elevator dings at the end of the hallway, a ghastly Oikawa steps through and you catch a glimpse of silver. At first, you thought it had to be his veins visible through his milky skin, but now you can see the thin lines of silver snaking throughout his body. “He did not look like that yesterday,” Yamaguchi skids to a stop behind you.

Tanaka and Terushima have their weapons raised in front of you, a spear twirling in Teru’s hand. “Where’s the control room, Oikawa?” Tanaka calls out, his voice dripping with poison.

“Why would I tell you when they already know?” He quips, his retort losing substance when a wet cough breaks through his chest. “As you can see I can’t put up much of a fight,” he coughs again, dribbles of thinning blood leaks from his lips. “Iwa’s device doesn’t suit me too well,” he leans his neck to the side, a sickening pop coming from it.

“Iwa’s what?” You say it before you mean to, the situation only becoming creepier with every drop of new knowledge.

“You see, when Iwa was crushed, I found his body in the rubble. The implants we use jutting out from the skin between his shoulder blades, so I tore it out,” he staggers towards your group, the leg he was shot in scraping against the floor with each step. “I inserted it into the bullet wound above my knee,” he points to his twisted leg. “That way Iwa and I will always be together.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Terushima says behind his hand as he gags. The smell of rotting flesh and rusty metal wafting through the hall with each drag of Oikawa’s leg.

You know he’s not down here alone, that he probably has volunteers stationed somewhere near the control center, but that’s down the hall, through another room. The five of you don’t stand a chance alone without knowing exactly how many are here. You also know that Oikawa’s breaths are numbered, his body actively rejecting the implant stealing away his time like he’s stalling yours.

“But if you really want to know,” he draws in a shallow breath and stops a few feet away from your group. “The control center is down this hall through that room,” he points to his right, the door cracked open. “I’ll let you pass, but good luck. I already input the code,” he inches towards the door and dramatically looks at his watch. “Seems like you only have 8 minutes.” 

He wags his fingers at you as he leans into the door, his weight pushing it open fully and he disappears in the darkness. Tanaka’s running first, fluidly rushing to the open door, but before he reaches it many of the other ones open. Decaying bodies hauling the burden of their transformation into the corridor. “Ryu, wait!” You call out to him but he’s already surrounded. He unsheathes the sword strapped to his back and swings it out in a swift circular arc to force the volunteers back. You count seven in total, all focused dangerously on your boyfriend. 

Terushima bends down in front of the three of you and unzips the pouch clipped around his hips. “Fall back,” he says.

“What’re you gonna do?” Yamaguchi bends at the waist to look over his shoulder. “I’m gonna use one of the stun grenades to distract them. Tanaka’s quick on his feet and he’ll know he only has a split second to escape. But first I need you guys to fall back.”

You’re hesitant at first, but Yachi tugs you away from them while Yamaguchi follows, still a step ahead. “Tanaka, get ready!” Terushima yells before he pulls the clip and tosses it. The grenade rolling to a stop at Tanaka’s feet. 

“Get down,” you turn to tackle Yachi in your arms, your body shielding her from any fallout. The flashes and popping noises signaling its detonation. You look up when some of the noise dies down, the door leading to the control center swinging wildly while the volunteers trip over themselves, disoriented and scattered at the end of the hall. You missed the exact moment, but three of the volunteers were now on the ground, their implants sliced out from their shoulder blades. The pincers on the devices opening and closing in search for their host. 

“Thanks, Tanaka,” Teru whispers in awe. “Impressive bastard took three of ‘em out on his own and discovered that you disable them by removing those creepy shits,” he laughs.

“Okay, babe, we’ll go in before the ladies,” he stands and helps Yamaguchi to his feet. “You take the small one in the corner. Leave the three big guys to me,” he smirks. 

“Now’s not the time to compete, Teru,” Yamaguchi sighs, grabbing a switchblade from his pocket, while clutching the revolver in his other hand.

“A little healthy competition never hurt nobody,” he nudges Yamaguchi with his shoulder, sending him a sly wink. “Trust me.” 

The boys bolt forward, weapons in hand as they twirl in combat, the first heavy body thumping to the ground. They clear the path for you and Yachi quickly, the space in front of the door now empty.

You grab Yachi and book it. Your concern for Tanaka’s safety rises exponentially as you rush to the control center, where he and Oikawa surely are.

The room opens up and near the center you see Oikawa and Tanaka arguing loudly, Tanaka’s gun pointing at Oikawa while he grips the sword behind him to keep the volunteers at bay. The control center is blinking, digital numbers floating above the panel counting down ominously. You have five minutes left and the prospects of disabling the system are low. The ring of volunteers lining the perimeter is your main obstacle because at any given moment their motionless blank stares could be activated. 

“What do we do?” Yachi whispers hurriedly beside you, no one noticing the two of you enter the room yet. 

“We get you to the panel in the next five minutes. How?” You’re trying to think as fast as possible. “I don’t know yet.” Thoughts are racing through your mind, words popping out to form some coherent thought before you rattle out your best plan. 

“I’ll distract Oikawa. You run as fast as you can to the panel,” you suggest. “And we pray some of the other rebels show up as back up.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very good plan,” Yachi bites the nail on her thumb.

“Well unless you have something better, I can’t think of anything else,” you respond, eyebrows raised and she shakes her head no. 

“So just walk behind Oikawa and hopefully he won’t see you. Once you’re out of his line of sight I’ll say something to get his attention,” you explain.

“Got it,” she nods, releasing your hand as she steps across your body to start moving towards the control center. The boys are still arguing and you get the sense that Tanaka knows you're there. Coincidentally, maneuvering his body to obscure Yachi until she isn’t visible to him.

“Tooru,” your voice echoes in the chamber. “How about we talk this out?”

His voice dies in his throat once he notices you. Somehow surprised that you would chase them down here. “I know I blew up on you in the past but just give me another chance. We can stall all of this,” you wave your hands around at the control center and all the volunteers. “And maybe come to a compromise.” 

Four minutes.

“Compromise? As if you even know the meaning of the word, princess,” there’s no endearment in his tone anymore. Just condescension and disgust. “I’ll start by killing your boyfriend and you can watch me. Then I’ll kill all your pathetic friends. Saving my sweet, sweet love for last,” his voice is eerily flat, similar to when he was speaking from the balcony earlier. 

Three minutes, twenty-three seconds.

“You son of a bitch, I’d like to see you try,” Tanaka growls, the sword that was pointed at the volunteers now positioned over Oikawa’s chest. “I’ll tear your heart out before you can lay a finger on her.”

“I sense a challenge,” Oikawa chuckles and steps so the tip of the sword is touching his chest. “Let’s test that. You heard him, right guys? Why don’t we see if this knight in shining armor can save his damsel in distress,” he knows he’s going to die here, he’s smiling from ear to ear at Tanaka and he reaches to wrap his hand around the sharp edge of the sword, blood spilling from his palm down his wrist. “Kill them.”

The volunteers bumble forward, their numbers overwhelming the three of you. Tanaka pulls his sword from Oikawa’s hand to go after them. Yachi is almost to the control panel, but a volunteer suddenly blocks her path, lunging to crush her beneath their fists. You sprint for her, she has a knife on her leg but it’s clear she forgot to reach for it. She ducks beneath their arm, she’s surprisingly agile despite her frequent clumsiness. There’s an opening between the monstrosity’s legs as they stupidly move to follow her. You slide on your knees straight between their legs to slice through their achille’s heel, cutting off the function of their lower body. They faceplant by Yachi’s feet as she shrieks from nearly being crushed as you climb the limp body, your fingers locating the implant and stabbing into the tough skin, the implant wiggling in your hands as you tear it out. The device latches on to your pointer finger to dig into your skin. You scream and shake it off immediately and it lands at Yachi’s feet before she stomps on it like a bug, the crunching resembling the sound of a cockroach beneath her boot.

There’s a grunt from Tanaka’s direction and you see he’s pinned Oikawa to the floor between his knees. The tussle looks like it’s in his favor when Oikawa rips the implant from the wound above his knee and attempts to insert it into the smooth skin of Tanaka’s neck. You stare as he screams in pain, the pincers scratching and cutting into him. You’re too far to use your dagger, you won’t make it before the implant is successfully transferred to him, so you reach for the pistol on your hip. You hold it out in front of you preparing your shot but it’s too risky. Tanaka’s back is to you and only with perfect aim will you be able to land a shot on Oikawa from over his shoulder, the trembling of your hands only worsening the situation.

Two minutes, twenty-five seconds.

The time will be out before you shoot your gun, before Yachi will make it to the control center. Despair ruining your disposition and any confidence you would have had taking this shot is snatched from you as Tanaka screams in pain. You position the gun as best you can, praying to any divine being who happens to hear you to bless you with perfect aim. You begin to squeeze the trigger, forcing your eyes to stay open, when an arrow comes whizzing past your cheek, the speed of it burning the soft skin. You stare in astonishment as it lodges itself in Oikawa’s eye, blood spraying everywhere from the impact and his body slumps to the ground, hand still clasping the implant as it fidgets in his fingertips. Tanaka cringes when he gets off of him and turns to Nishinoya, whose crossbow is still aimed at them and the tension in your shoulders ease slightly.

Your relief is short lived as you survey the situation. Nearly all of the rebels are here, but there are simply too many enemies and they don’t have enough energy to continue to fight. You jump from your spot to look for Yachi and she’s still running to the panel, the disaster gathered in the room preventing her from reaching it. You know it’s too late. Your naive dream beginning to wither away before your eyes so you rush to go get her. 

“Yachi, stop! It’s over,” You scream over the noise of the chaos around you, bodies strewn across the floor while blood begins to pool and smear everywhere. You are holding her arm, pulling her away from the control center in the middle of the room.

 “It’s not over, how could you give up so easily?! I can do this, you have to trust me! I am the only one who can decode the software. It’s my fault any of this is happening anyway. I did this!” Tears are flowing down her face in a violent stream. Her cheeks red with frustration and stress, eyes pleading with you to let her go. “I put all of you in danger! I’m an idiot and I should’ve been able to figure out their plan, but I had to go and try to prove myself to my mom! I-I had to ruin everything because I was so stupidly naive,” her voice was breaking around every syllable, guilt ripping through her. 

“But I can’t lose you!” The lump in your throat was making it difficult to speak as the only option dawned on you. The only option she is pleading for you trust her with. Tears are stinging at your eyes, threatening to spill over while you try desperately to hold them back. “Y-you’re my best friend,” you’re exhausted, the words sincere as they slide through the space between you. Yachi steps towards you, hand coming up to rest on your cheek to catch the stray tear slipping down. 

“I know and that’s why I need to do this. I need to save you. I need to save Yams. And the others. We can’t lose anymore lives because of something I created,” you let your eyes shut, all the fight you had leaving your body as your grip loosens on her arm. She wraps her arms around you for a final embrace, her body still for once, the trembling gone from her nerves as your arms hold her. “I know I can fix this, but I need for you to get as many people as you can out of here first,” she untangles herself from you. 

“There’s a large safe at the end of this hallway. The code is my birthday. Grab anyone left, anyone still alive and shut yourselves in there. I won’t be able to disconnect the devices in this building because I won’t have enough time so there will still be a loud explosion. When you hear that it’s safe to come out,” she takes a step away from you, expression fixed leaving you no room to argue. 

“O-okay,” you force the word from your lips because this was far from okay, “j-just know that, um, that I love you. So fucking much,” her figure begins to blur as the tears gather in your eyes. 

“I love you too, y/n. Promise me that you will make it out of here. Promise me that you will get to watch the sunset. A real one. For me,” she pleads and you blink to clear your vision, hot tears burning the raw skin of your under eyes. “Yes, I p-promise,” you choke on these last words. 

“Thank you. Now go, please” this is the calmest you have ever seen her as she steps away from you, body turning to clumsily run to the control panel. Time is moving in slow motion. The bodies around you moving in vivid detail. Every swing, punch, and kick are stuttering like a stop motion film. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, all of your functions glitching in a solitary moment of grief. 

“Hey, look at me!” You can hear Tanaka’s voice, see his figure pummeling towards you, but he’s fuzzy, out of focus. You think his hands are on your arms, but it feels distant and cold, a ghost of everything he is. “Hey!” He shakes you aggressively, your brain fighting against the current of sorrow dragging you below the murky surface. “Don’t let the last words you said to her be a lie! Don’t break this promise!” 

You cut through the surface and see Tanaka clearly. He’s covered in blood, his neck bleeding from where Oikawa punctured his skin with the implant. “We have to go. You have to go,” he shoves you to the exit, your motor functions working on autopilot. You grab who you can as you run for the safe. Yelling orders and instructions to anyone who can hear you. 

One minute, seventeen seconds.

Suga’s at your side holding up Ennoshita while Daichi is calling for people to rush to the safe. You make it there first, and incorrectly punch in the code at first, the small numbers duplicating, but you get it right the second try. The heavy door swinging open with surprising ease as you move out the way to let Suga and Ennoshita in before you. A few of the other guys bolt in soon after and you just stand there waiting for Tanaka, waiting for Yamaguchi, and Kenma, and Yachi. 

Yamaguchi cuts the corner first, Terushima on his tail. You feel a flash of relief when you see them, the distance between you closing rapidly. Yamaguchi trips over the step into the safe, but Terushima catches him before he makes contact with the ground, mumbling something to him that you can’t quite make out. 

Tanaka’s next and he’s screaming at you but you hardly hear him over the commotion. You hardly register the distance until he’s right in front of you again. “What are you doing just standing here?!” He yells. “Let’s go,” he practically lifts you into the room and holds your back to his chest against one of the metal walls, preventing you from running out again. 

You can’t tell who else enters the safe, your panic and grief merging in a merciless waltz. The door slams shut and Daichi is the last to come in, his strong hands holding firm on the handle. Your eyes now begin to scan the bodies in the room, some fine with just a few cuts and bruises, others worse, bleeding dangerously from various points in their body. You count like you did before any of this started. 

Twenty-six. Minus one. Twenty-five. 

You start from the corner opposite you, whispering number to face to name. 

Twenty-one, orange hair, brown eyes: Hinata. Twenty-two, flash of blonde, fixed glare: Nishinoya. Twenty-three, disheveled black hair-

“Where’s Kenma?” Kuroo’s voice breaks your trance. There’s only twenty-four people in the safe. 

“Where’s Kenma?” You repeat, fighting Tanaka’s grip to bolt to the door. 

“Daichi!” Kuroo screams. “Answer me!”

“He stayed behind,” Daichi’s shoulders fall in defeat. “Said something about this being his final move. That this was game over for him and the prize for winning would be our lives. Then stuck something on the door and told me to tell you that he’s,” he pauses, his usually solid voice wavering. “He said he’s not a loser.” 

“And you let him?!” Kuroo runs at him, intent on pulling him away from the door and ripping it open. “He’s an idiot! I have to go get him!” Daichi locks Kuroo’s arms behind his back. “Let me go!” He’s kicking and shoving, but Daichi refuses to stand down. “There’s still time! I HAVE TIME TO SAVE HIM!”

“There is no time, Tetsuro! We are out of time!” At this moment the floor rumbles, the walls vibrate as they shield you from the brunt of the blast. Kuroo’s reaction is visceral,  a primal scream blowing out his vocal chords as dust starts to fall from the ceiling. You watch Hinata fall to his knees, the inhibited light dimming in his eyes as his head falls in his hands, body convulsing with sobs. 

00:00

You’re drowning, your lungs are full of water, air sticking to the lining of your esophagus, the burning pain of no oxygen clouding your brain. Your head heavy on your neck, the effort of holding up your body wearing away as you let all of your weight fall back on Tanaka. His own body sliding down the wall until you’re both on the floor, you wailing pathetically between his legs and he just holds you to his chest, even when you resist and scream for him to leave you alone, he silently holds you. 

No one makes a move to leave. The burden of losing people weighing heavy in the tight, crowded room. 

You don’t remember too much after this. The solemn, dreadful walk back to the hideout is syrupy, your body hardly moving through the thickness of desolation. You stumble over bodies and slip on spilled blood, the aftermath of the explosion evident on every surface, making your ascent cumbersome as you climb out. The familiar fog an odd comfort concealing you from intrusive eyes. 

The hideout is stale and uneasy. Your heartbeat pulsing irregularly in your chest, grief induced anesthetic numbing your bloodstream. Tanaka’s room is dark and his bed looks unusually comfortable. You lurch towards it, but Tanaka stops you. His arms pulling you into the bathroom, the shower already running with steam creeping over the top of the glass door. He helps you undress and step into the tub, tying your hair up in a messy bun before the water hits you. He steps in behind you and swipes a wet cloth over your body. Blood, dirt, and dust turning the water at your feet a translucent brown as it disappears down the drain. 

Tanaka wraps new gauze around your waist, the sting of the alcohol barely noticeable anymore. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts as he tucks you into bed. His body settling in beside you, his strong arms cradling you in his embrace as he whispers gentle words of affirmation into your hair. His soothing voice eventually lulling you into a dreamless slumber. 

You wake up unexpectedly, the sounds of your own whimpers breaking the awful silence. “I’m here,” Tanaka pets your hair. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here,” he reassures you as his arms press you deeper to his chest. Your fingers clinging to the sheet draped over his bare torso. 

He leans down to pepper kisses across your tear stained cheeks. His lips connecting with every inch of skin. You tilt your face to catch his lips in a slow kiss, his movements initially hesitant. You drift your fingers to outline his collarbone, tracing along each line of muscle and ridge of scar tissue, determined to memorize all his imperfections. Determined to cement the entirety of his physique into your memory so he will never fade if he ever leaves you too. 

Your fingers stop at the waistband of his underwear, toying with the elastic before you venture further down as you sketch the dip of his hip bone, the sharpness of his pelvis, and the strength of his relaxed thigh behind your closed eyelids. He stops you before you can delve deeper. “We shouldn’t,” is all he says, lips still slotted perfectly between yours. 

“I want you, Ryu,” you’re aware of the desperation in your tone, aware of your need for physical touch emitting off of you in heady rays. “Please.” 

He screws his eyes shut, his internal dialogue written all over his handsome features. It’s not because he doesn’t want to, the evidence of his quiet arousal mere inches from your fingertips. He’s afraid of hurting you, afraid of pushing you too far even though you’re asking for this, but you want to show him how much you want him. How much you need him. 

How much you love him.

You gently pry your wrist from his loose grasp to massage the soft skin of his erection, slowing your motions when he stiffens. “Let me,” you plead beneath your breath. 

“Let me feel you, let me know you’re here.” 

You feel him nod above you, his body relaxing into your touch, his hips rutting gently into your palm until he’s painfully hard. He shifts to caress the back of your neck, tilting your head to look at him as he places a lingering kiss to your forehead. His lips smoothing over your features before he melts into you again. His kisses are slow and passionate, a welcome distraction to the flurry of disheartening emotions plaguing you. 

He rolls the both of you over so he’s resting on his elbows above you and removes your hand from his cock to place it over his heart. The action is cheesy but you can feel the heartbeat beneath his muscle. The steady, rhythmic pulse pumping blood through his veins, a sign that he is alive, that he’s breathing and he’s with you. 

You fight the tears begging to spill over, fearing that you might ruin the moment. He strokes your cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles beneath the skin of your eyes. 

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” His voice is broken from exhaustion and vulnerability, but his hand moves to shift your panties to the side when you nod for him to continue. His fingers slipping between your folds to gather the slick at your entrance, circling your clit lightly. You lift your hips to roll into his fingers, silently asking for more as your pleasure begins to prickle at your nerves. 

He begins to move away from you and for a moment you think he’s going to stop, instead he pulls himself from his boxers and strokes whatever slick he gathered over his erection. The tip of his cock a blossoming red as he continues to touch himself. “Ryu, hurry,” you whine, impatience beginning to nag at you, body seeking the delirious sensation of pleasure. 

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” his voice is soft, the meaning of his words holding avenues of interpretations as he positions himself at your entrance. His arm shakes with strain beside your face as he pushes his head past your initial ring of muscle, stopping midway to thrust shallowly. Despite your begging for him to hurry up, you’re still tense, your walls clenching tight around him. 

“Baby, I need you to relax,” he says through gritted teeth, the efforts of restraining himself lock his muscles into place, but you take a deep breath at his words, allowing your legs to fall open around his hips, crossing your ankles behind the small of his back. 

“Move,” your breath catches in your throat as he thrusts a little deeper that time. “I’ll be fine, just move.” 

He looks at you for a long moment, eyes searching yours for even a semblance of doubt. When he doesn’t find it, he rests his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he sheathes himself inside you entirely. You feel too full when he doesn’t follow through so you wiggle your hips to press firmly into his, a low groan reverberating through his chest as you grind against him, your arms stationed securely around his neck. 

Not too long after he begins to meet the rocking of your hips, his movements deliberate and measured. You keen into his touch as his head falls to rest beside your neck, mouthing the skin to muffle his moans as his pace quickens. 

He slips his arms beneath your back, hugging you tightly to his chest. The new angle sends a jolt of electric pleasure through your veins, his thrusts are determined as he searches for your release. 

“Not gonna last long,” he groans into your neck, fingers digging into your sides as he tries to stall his own release. You’re closer than he thinks though, your head is swimming with euphoria, brain clouded with the tastes of ecstasy. 

“Don’t stop, Ryu. I’m so close,” you beg, your voice dripping with desire. You feel one of his hands move to fist the sheet below you as he breaks his steady pace, the force of his hips jostling you passionately. The pressure building in your abdomen is unbearable, his cock slamming into your sensitive walls fervently. 

“Fuck,” you moan into his ear as your senses crash, your body singing with unexpected bliss. His thrusts begin to falter, his own release on the horizon as his grip on you hardens. 

“M’gonna come,” he stutters out, voice gravelly with need. “Need you to move, so I, shit,” he’s struggling to get his words out as the hand fisting the sheet moves to wrap around your calf. “So I can pull out,” he groans and pushes on your leg to unlock your ankles. 

“No,” you refuse. “Inside, just come inside, please Ryu” he never has, the implications too dangerous for him to ever consider, but right now you need to feel every part of him. 

“Baby,” he whines, his voice an octave higher. The desperation in your tone crumbling his resolve and before he can say no he’s spilling inside you. The sporadic contractions of your walls around his cock coupled with the way you whimper his name against the shell of his ear is what ruins him. 

He collapses on top of you, his dense weight flattening you into the mattress as he twitches inside you. You don’t mind the heaviness, content with falling asleep just like this but he rolls the both of you on your sides, probably realizing he was crushing you. 

His face is still nestled in the groove of your neck when you feel him chuckle against your skin. “Can’t believe you tricked me into doing that?” A small smile stretching his lips on your shoulder. 

“Trick? I wouldn’t it call it that,” a matching smile plays on your features. 

“It was sneaky and you know it.” You laugh despite everything that happened today. 

“I love you,” you never said it back, but you’re certain now as your body flows with appreciation. 

“I love you too.”

June 18, 2065

6:38am

It’s too early to wake up, but your mind disregards your obvious fatigue when you find yourself on Tanaka’s balcony. The events of last night looping perpetually in your head as you stare at the city that was supposed to be demolished. There’s no movement, hardly any noise beside the buzzing neon sign flickering four floors down. It’s as if everyone is in mourning. A victory cause for celebration, but the density of grief burdens the atmosphere. 

“What’re doing up?” Tanaka appears behind you, arms enclosing around your waist. 

“Couldn’t sleep anymore,” you reply dryly. He hums behind you and rests his chin on your head as you two watch the sky change from a deep purple to the dull pink that never cuts through the fog. 

“What now?” You ask, not really expecting an answer. 

“I’m not sure,” he shrugs, this transition stretching into miles of uncharted area. 

“We leave,” he says, finally. 

“Where would we even go?” Confusion laces your tone. The two of you have never left Tokyo, partially because it was impossible with the barrier surrounding the city.

“Miyagi,” he says as if he’s familiar with the prefecture. 

“I don’t know,” you hesitate. “There was a project I wanted to complete for,” your voice fades into the early morning. The image of the simulation machine popping into your mind as you remember the pixelated beach glitching in the large room. The last moment you had with him. 

“Bring it with you,” Tanaka suggests as he turns you in his embrace to look at him.

“What’s in Miyagi?” His adamant stare confusing you further. 

“My sister,” he’s never mentioned her before, and you raise your eyebrows in question. “A few of the rebels left here right before you showed up to search for others. She led them,” he explains. 

“I hadn’t heard from her until she called me two days ago. I was worried something happened, but she’s fine,” he shakes his head. 

“I obviously didn’t get the chance to tell you, but she’s there and they found more than they were expecting.”

“How did they even get past the barrier?” 

“Kenma.” His tone softens around his name, but you're not the least bit surprised that he managed to break down the barrier. 

“Of course.” You rest your head against his chest.

“The rebellion is stronger there. We may have a chance to save all of Japan. Not just Tokyo,” you process his words, unsure of how to respond. 

“And,” he cups your neck so you’re staring into his eyes. “The sun sets in Miyagi.”

[vslattae]

ALL I COULD EVER WANT

ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴄ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴋᴘᴏᴘ ɪᴅᴏʟ...ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ʜɪs ɢʀᴏᴜᴘᴍᴀᴛᴇs ᴘᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ..

ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴠsʟᴀᴛᴛᴀᴇ

paring: Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: (okay let’s goooo) tae being a softie once again but dom tae comes out a little, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex (plz wrap before your tap), fingering dirty talk the whole shabaka.

Chapter 6: A moment we’ll never forget.

——————————༺༻——————————

After your little beach day everyone was resting and scattered around the house along with the girls that showed up earlier. Taehyung was in the shower while you had you laid on your stomach on the bed watching whatever was on. It was kinda hot the sounds of laughter bursting through the house made you miss the sound of the door opening.

smack.

“ow tae what the fuck” you smoothed your hand over the hit mark but to your surprise it was just haru. “y/n are you okay?” you heard tae in the bathroom. “ yeah i’m fine haru just smacked my ass” you glared at her. “What? not my fault my best friend has more ass than me.” she pouted. Tae chuckled turning the water off.

After 10 minutes of talking about whatever haru wanted to tell you she left and taehyung came out. Taehyung watched you with sudden movements, the way you looked with his shorts on a sports bra god..you were perfect. Your hair was thrown up into a mess bun kicking your feet back and forth until you turned over looking at taehyung just standing there.

“hm what’s wrong?” you questioned him propping yourself on your elbows. “y/nnn...the girls left come eat” you heard haru through the door. getting off the bed, tae pulls his hoodie over you, before opening the door he pulls you in and kisses you on the forehead. “ready for your date tomorrow ?” he looks at you. “mmmh yes.” you smile finally walking out of the door.

Dinner with the rest of the boys is always filled with loud booming voices and jin and rm left to do the dishes. You were curled up next to haru scrolling through your endless camera roll from the few days you’ve gotten here. “are you excited for your date tomorrow” haru look between you and tae smiling with her cheesy ass smile which meant she was about to say something really dumb.

“have you done the dirty yet...?” she chuckles as you hit her playfully. “jin please control your girlfriend omg” you whine and get up scrambling into taehyungs lap where his hands immediately find your waist pulling you in tighter into his chest. Jin and rm finally finish up tossing blankets to everyone. “maybe we should have had those girls stay over” Jungkook looks at jimin to which agrees.

The movie is half way going jk and jimin fell asleep mouth open while everyone is struggling to stay awake. Taehyung on the other hand running his hand drawing figure on your side. you shifted which was your mistake... “tae.” you whispered. “tired baby?” he looked down at you nodding your head he picked you up and laid you down so you could get some sleep.

The bed dipped as soon as you came into contact with tae warm body. “i’m excited for our date tmr” you smiled with sleepy eyes. “me too angel sleep now okay?” he cooed. your finally thoughts drifted away as you made your way into a deep sleep.

Taehyung woke up early to set the date up haru helped only bc she begged him to let her and plus he really could have used her help. The only slight disadvantage was the sun wasn’t even up yet. He knew that you wanted to watch the sun rise and hated sunsets cause that’s when the world falls into darkness..you’d rather watch the world set into light to linger away the bad memories from before.

Around 20 minutes or so he came in to slowly wake you up.

“y/n love come on.” he kissed your forehead as you smiled rubbing your eyes open. “tae...it’s still dark what time is it?” you whined trying to roll over without any hint of success. “it’s time for our date baby..” finally you jumped out of bed but you were still confused on why the heck he woke you up so early. You did you little routine and scrambled on better clothes, a pair of shorts, vans and a flannel.

“close your eyes okay..” he whispered in your ear nodding you did as you were told. “if i trup it’s your fault tae” he giggled. it took about 2 minutes to get to the destination as your feet acknowledge the fact that you weren’t on the solid ground but maybe something else.

Taehyungs heart raced because believe it or not he wanted to officially ask you out and seeing as he had your brothers permission he was certainly nervous. “okay open your eyes” your eyes adjusted to the scene. breakfast on the pier in the dark? “i know it’s still a little dark but i know how much you wanted to watch the sunrise here” he smiled

Your heart flutter after the explanation. How the heck did he know that and why is he so is perfect?

“y/n..? you alright” tae eyed you suspiciously. “ yeah i’m okay i’m just flattered you know.” he chuckled as you two sat down to enjoy the food he made. about 10 minutes later the sky painted purple and oranges finally set the work free of darkness. Glancing at tae you noticed the small dollop of whipped cream from the pancakes as you giggled.

“Tae don’t move” you wiped the food off with a napkin as he looked at you. His eyes glistened in the light, the small curls of his brown hair blew softly in the wind. Now taehyung nervous as fuck decided now was the time to ask. He didn’t know what would happen but he hoped the outcome is good.

“Y/n” He looked at you as your head perked up away from the light of the rising sun.

“yes tae?” you smiled as you began to question why he was so shaken up.

“ I know we didn’t exactly get along before this trip but i learned a lot about you. Like the way your face lights up when you spot the sun pouring through the windows in the morning or the way you hate jins weird dad jokes, or you prefer orange over apple juice in the morning but sometimes you forget that you brushed your teeth so it gives off that weird taste...I could list a lot more but to get to the point y/n i like waking up next to you and spending my days giggling next to you...i wanted to know if you’d happily be mine..like-”

you cut him off giggling in awe about the words that jumbled out of his mouth and with his slight frown he thought you were laughing at him.

“it’s okay if you want to just-” you pressed your lips on his hoping he’d get the hint. “Taehyungie..id love to be by your side every morning, from this day forward i’m yours okay?” his smile return jumping to his feet to press his lips and give you a soft kiss. he smiled into the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to pool your hands in his soft chocolate hair.

Finally pulling away for air. He smiled at you picking up the trash and throwing his arm around you, you finally felt happy knowing that now you two weren’t finally well for each other.

Stepping into the house everyone was awake waiting to hear the news.

“welllll?” jimin perked up.

“y/n said i had a small dick so no..” he pouted

“WHAT- i said yes and those words never came out of my mouth” you scoffed. Which the silence was now filled with loud voices that came to congratulate you.

Taehyung pulling you into the room he immediately started peeling you out of your clothes latching his lips to paint more purple marks on your skins. “tae” you whimpered out. “y/n baby you might wanna be quiet...the others will hear you.” he tutted. “but they’re not..haru went swimming with boys” you groaned a little “well then be my guest.” he lifted your body up and placing you on the bed. Pulling his shirt off while you sat on the edge to help him peel of his pants.

Pushing yourself to rest your head against the headboard propping yourself on your elbows watching his head dipped in between your legs when the shock of his tongue dips inside you. Then the burning sensation of two of his fingers slide inside you to help stretch yourself out. “fuck” you whine tangling your fingers in his hair. “god you taste so sweet baby...tell me does it feel good?”

“taehyung..don’t stop” you whine as your muscles tighten but his tongue stays relentless rolling over the bundle of nerves. ���cum baby” he growls and that sets it off, back arched as your mouth falls open as pants fill the air. You pull his mouth to yours interwove together coating your mouth in your juices.

“jesus tae..fuck me already” you whine pulling and stroking his length that hardens in your hand and the soft grunts that play music to your ears eggs you on. “so needy baby...are you hungry for my cock inside you?” he coos.

Coating your arousal on the tip before slightly pushing his length in... you stop for a second.

“tae...wanna ride you.” you manage to breathe out. nodding he switched places with you. Before sinking yourself in to him, his hands helped you sit on him the burning and stretching sensation made you cry out. “deep so fucking deep your such a good girl..taking my cock so well” you watched you as you slowly started to bounce god he loved the sight.

The sounds that faltered out of your mouth, the way you sigh his name. “so good tae..fuck-” your eyes rolled back as soon as the tip hit your sensitive spot making your legs shake. snaking his arms around you making you moan into the blissful kiss he knew you were close when that high whine left your lips. “close baby?” he grunted which in return you nodded frantically.

His hands helped you rock your hips back and forth on to him. “fuck tae oh my god!” he sat up wrapped his arms around you. “come on baby...i know your close..” he egged you on and with that last roll of your hips, it set you into a frenzy. Looking at tae with sleepy eyes and giggling at you lifted yourself off of him.

“y/n..what are you doing silly” he chuckles watching you ass up as you grip his length before licking your lips. “shh” you smiled and popped the tip of his length in your mouth. Groaning into bliss finding his hands into your hair to help you gag onto him.

“ Oh shit-” you watched him throw his head back. Pulling you off him pooling you onto your hands and knees. Once again he slid in a little too smooth. “god always so tight..your so tight for me y/n perfect.” he growled his thrusts a little harder.

gripping one hand on the sheets and the other onto taes wrist you turned your head to watch him pound into you senseless. God he looks so fucking good. The beads of sweat that cover his forehead or the way or the pretty sounds that drown through the room. Chasing your last orgasm taehyung pulled out as the liquid coats the inner part of your thigh.

He cleans you up which left you panting and sore. “well...that was nice” you giggled. Pulling his hoodie over your small frame he chuckled. “yes...sorry if our first time wasn’t special love” he pouted only for you to pull him in your arms “it was very special to me” you kissed his forehead.

“now...let’s go find the others shall we?” you held your hand out. “let me get dressed first love..” laughing you sat and waited for taehyung to get dressed before venturing off outside to talk amongst the others.

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a/n: let’s gooooo it’s official i’m proud of tae :) and thank you haru bahaha anyways..i hope you’re enjoying the story and thank you for reading <3! let me know what you think or if want to be on the taglist!

T̶A̶G̶L̶I̶S̶T̶:̶

@hantaev @strawverryxmilktae @serendipitysev

[dearcat1]

(One night stand)

(Chapter 2)

(⅔)

Michelle takes half an hour to take in the comfort smell of her nest, nose pressed on Xanxus’s side before she huffs and nods to herself. Right, she’s doing this. A baby. There’s a lot that needs doing but first, before everything else, she needs information. She has some studying to do. That said, to study, she needs to feel prepared to face all these new changes. What she needs, she decides, is a list. And to, for a lack of a better word, to bolster herself up to face this new situation. 

With that in mind, she stands. Michelle puts on sweatpants, mostly because as much as these new guys are Xanxus’s pack, she doesn’t know them enough to walk around them half-dressed. She throws her pyjama shirt on the bin and fishes out from the closet the shirt Xanxus had tried out before he decided that he’d rather wear another one. There’s that. His smell is grounding even if there’s nothing that screams competent about the look.

Whatever. She fixes up her bun into something still messy but presentable and pulls out the makeup. It’s always helped somehow, putting on some eyeshadow and drawing wings with her eyeliner. She chooses a dark brown lipstick to finish it up and nods to herself. Perhaps it’s a little selfish but she doesn’t want any of them in her room, their smells would get in and she wants the room to only smell of Xanxus and her. So Michelle walks down the stairs and builds a temporary nest in her living room before fishing out an empty notebook, her jar full of pens and her tablet. 

It takes her but a moment to write down the first few worries and the solutions that pop on her mind to them. She’ll investigate more if she needs to but for now, that’s it for that. Living space is going to have to wait until Xanxus and her talk because it’s evident now that she’s going to have to move. Her apartment only has one bedroom which should be fine with her baby for the first year at least so she’s in no hurry. She’d rather wait, actually. It takes time to settle up a nest properly and moving is stress she does not need for, at the moment. 

Her room is big enough that she could even set up a crib up there but then again, Xanxus does live and work at least an hour away and it seems a bit mean to set up their family so far away. It’s just… she’s reluctant to leave this gated community, even if she moves right away, she’d rather pick one of the bigger apartments. The owner of the place is a sweet old man, she likes him. He’s been good to her. 

She’s taking notes of other women’s experiences with early pregnancy and texting with Squalo when the doorbell rings. It’s almost creepy how it coincides with Squalo’s message telling her that the guys he sent her way arrived. Feeling uncharacteristically shy, Michelle catches her reflection on a window and fixes her bun a little before opening the door with a smile, “hi! Uh, Lussuria and Fran, I’m guessing?”

Lussuria rushes her, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her into an enthusiastic hug. “Oh, you’re adorable!” He rubs their cheeks together, eager enough that Michelle freezes for a moment before she tips her head up and allows him to scent her gently. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m ok,” she shrugs, “no nausea or sleepiness yet.” Michelle reaches for the green-haired, green-eyed, young man beside flamboyant Lussuria. “I just panicked a little in the beginning, we weren’t planning it, you see?” She shrugs, going on her tiptoes to press her nose under the younger man’s jaw in greeting before gesturing them inside. “To be honest, this probably could have waited but I didn’t want him to find out through the grapevine or keep it from him.”

The easy acceptance she seems to have of them in her space surprises her a little but she’s also aware that they smell like they’re Xanxus’s and that probably has her instincts taking over, especially after being so unsettled not so long ago. 

“Boss knows,” Fran admits, looking over the place. All her candles in the living room are lit up, flames flickering soothingly. “The Ninth doesn’t.”

“And we’re keeping it that way,” Lussuria mutters under his breath, teeth bared in a snarl for a second as he walks around the room. Whatever it is that he’s doing, Michelle doesn’t know.

“Alright,” Michelle settles herself back into her nest, smiling briefly at Fran when the officer moves to stand next to it, between her and the door. The obvious paranoia is making her nervous. “Is that something we need to actively worry about?”

“It’s just better that way,” Lussuria’s expression turns warm as he sits down on the couch in front of her nest, eyes looking up from her and to the TV for a moment before he looks back down to her. “Boss will take care of it but… the Ninth has a bad track record when it comes to the boss.”

A complicated family situation, Michelle decides. Xanxus will tell her more when he comes if it’s necessary. There’s no need to press now. 

AO3 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

[heart-eye-harrington]

frozen hearts don’t thaw overnight

(gif credits to @harringtown​, thank you!)

Summary:  After the break-up with Nancy, Steve isn’t sure how to spend his Sunday mornings. He finds himself in the diner you work at week after week

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of loneliness

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Steve found himself in a never-ending battle with the cold. He hated the goosebumps and stiffness that it brought. Regardless of how many layers he wore, the wind found its way to his skin, frozen fingers running down his spine. No matter how many people he surrounded himself with, he always felt the coldness in their hollow laughs. He could turn on every light in his house, but, the shadows of simpler times lingered in the corners. His house was too big, any warmth dissipated in its sheer volume. 

Nancy was a candle, a small and steady flame that provided warmth and light. She was a comfort, someone who listened and paid attention. She invited him over for family meals that took place in a house full of life. The Wheeler house never felt empty, filled with Mrs. Wheeler’s homemade meals and genuine questions, sibling banter and occasional laughter, Holly’s wide eye gaze, and Mr. Wheeler’s unsolicited advice. As dysfunctional as the whirl-wind was, it the warmest Steve felt. 

The small flame burned for a while, long enough for Steve to get used to it. With a single breath, it was blown out. 

A single word, bullshit. 

It had been months, but the frost she left behind could not be shaken. Steve woke up to an empty house. The January morning air waited for him outside of his comforter, pouncing into his bones after he shrugged off the thick blanket. Sleep did its best to linger, clouding his vision and trapping warmth under his skin so he wouldn’t freeze. Steve would pull whatever sweatshirt he threw on closer to him as he walked down the stairs, footsteps echoing with each step. 

If this were months ago, he’d be rushing out the door, speeding off to Nancy’s house for Sunday brunch. He’d be glaring at Mike and trying whatever new breakfast casserole Mrs. Wheeler would subject him to. Nancy would give polite tight-lipped smiles, her hand would brush his bicep. 

Now, all that waits for him is an empty kitchen and a barely stocked fridge. As much as he’d gotten used to being alone, to cooking half-way decent meals for himself, to silent lonely meals, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to get out. So like a moth to a flame, he sought out warmth. 

Steve grabs his keys off the hook and drives to the local diner.

 It was perfect. He could sit at a stool, no need to awkwardly ask for a table for one, order some hot food, and people watch. Sunday mornings brought all walks of life to the eatery; older couples share sticky buns and black coffee, parents groan as their children spill maple syrup on freshly pressed church clothes, hungover teenagers laugh as they piece together the night before. 

“Morning! What can I getcha?” A question plucks Steve from his wandering daze. He looks up to find your soft eyes. A white waitress hat, the one that resembles a paper boat, sits crookedly atop your head. He’s instantly entranced by your comforting energy, but realizes he can’t just soak it in, he needs to say something. 

“Um, can I get…” Steve quickly tries to scan the menu, hoping something jumps out to him in the next few milliseconds, “uh, a coffee with cream and sugar?” He looks up to you with a sheepish expression, as if his request was somehow odd and unreasonable. 

“Sure thing. Let me grab that, it’ll give you a bit more time with the menu.” you turn, off to get his coffee and a dish of cream cups and sugar. You’re gone just long enough to let Steve breathe and pick out his breakfast. You try not to over-analyze the somber energy that lingers around him as you set down the dishes and take his order. 

You and Steve didn’t really run in the same circles. Of course you knew of him, he was the king of Hawkins High himself, but you hadn’t known this Steve. This Steve had sunken shoulders and anxious eyes. As his trips to your diner became more frequent, you’d hope the puzzle pieces would fall into place, but it seemed like the opposite was happening. 

It was like watching a masterpiece flake away before your eyes. Every week more chips of paint would fall, the facade crumbling to reveal what was underneath, a sad and confused boy. 

You did pick up little things about what was underneath. You saw how he took his coffee, drowned in cream and sugar, a tower of empty cream cups assembled during his every visit. He held his mug with two hands when it rested on the counter, as if trying to warm up frozen fingertips. Loud noises and dogs barking made him stiff, his grip tightening on whatever was in his hand. He always took his eggs with hot sauce and dipped his potatoes in whatever was left. 

It seemed to be an especially harsh winter, not a week went by without flakes falling. Hawkins was covered in a thick blanket, the snow muffling and quieting the already sleepy town. Steve warmed despite the weather.  After weeks of sitting silently, observing others from his own little world, he tried to bring you into it. 

“Here is your ‘coffee’-” you laugh at the word, seeing as there was barely a drop of coffee amongst the cream and sugar, “and the number one. Need anything else?” You take your rehearsed pause you’ve learned to do after working here for so long. It was just enough time for patrons to look over what you delivered, or think of something they’ve needed since you last helped them. 

“Some warmer weather.” Steve gives a small chuckle to hide some of the seriousness behind his words. It seemed to be an endless winter, but the diner was always warm. You’re used to sarcastic answers like that from patrons, but this was the first time Steve’s joked around with you. 

“Well, l can call the weatherman, see if he can swing anything for ya.” If felt good to see a twinkle in his eyes, and not the distant grey that’s been plaguing them. He picks up his forks, pushing around some of his eggs. He shifts, taking a breath, contemplating his next moment.

“Has this seemed like an especially cold winter to you, too?” His gaze says on the plate, eyebrows knitted together, a small shake to his head. The lure was out, now to see if you’d humor him and bite. 

“Hm, maybe. To be honest, I don’t quite mind it. You know how hot it gets in here by now,” you draw another laugh from him. It feels like the two of you practically live amongst the checkered floor and coffee rings on the counter. “But when I’m not rocking this killer uniform, I usually have on one of the sweaters I knit.” 

A lopsided smirk pulls on Steve’s face, mischief flashing in his eyes. “You knit sweaters?” Steve’s smirk only widens as he notices you shift a bit, ready for your defensive words before they come.

“Ye-yeah. I do. What? It gives me something to do, and they’re warm.” You suddenly don’t know what to do with your arms, opting to cross them in front of your chest. In mere minutes the power dynamic has changed. Steve’s the one with witty comments while you’re left speechless. The sudden flip leaves you disoriented, and off to help other patrons.  

Weeks continued to pass, but winter held Hawkins with a firm grip. Spring wouldn’t be coming soon, but the diner was 24/7. It was always warm, not just from the grills but from the people. You and Steve had warmed up to one another. Long gone were the days of observing, now you couldn’t get him to shut up. You often got in trouble for talking to him too often, your manager joking that he was getting special treatment. 

The cold morning air still waited for Steve, but it didn’t seem to have the same edge. He was back to driving somewhere full of life and noise. Steve had found a place with smiling faces and people who cared about him again. He had a designated place to sit, where he’s expected and even anticipated. 

“Moring!” his voice especially chipper this Sunday. 

“Morning Steve!” you call from across the diner, scribbling his usual order on a ticket and handing it to the kitchen, not even needing to ask him what he wants. Before making your way behind the counter, you grab something from your bag. 

“Here” you place the brown paper package on the counter, along with his ‘coffee’ and fixings. 

“What’s this?” Steve raises his hands and eyebrows, eyes dancing from the string to your blushing cheeks. 

“Just open in” you insist, both for his sake and your own. His fingers make quick work of untying the twine you used and tearing through the paper. Underneath is something forest green and soft. He unfolds it to find a hand-made sweater. It takes a few moments to process, a few passes of his fingers against the stitches for him to realize what this means. 

“Did you make this, for me?” his question is soft as the snow outside the window. 

“No, it’s for Donna,” you giggle, nearly blinded by the light in his eyes when he looks at you. They’re wider than you’ve ever seen them, yet somehow harder to read than ever. A million emotions are welling behind them. The ice on his heart has melted, thawed by a new candle. 

“Thank you” is all he can say. It’s all-encompassing. Thank you for taking the time to make him a sweater, for helping him, for listening, for the food, for the laughs, for noticing him, for welcoming him, and for caring. He may be stuck in a never-ending battle with the cold, but now he had someone else on his team, and he was confident that they would be staying for a while.

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taglist: @kurtsbuckethat @harrington-ofhawkins @nxncywheeler @cececroft​

[rirah1writes]

Chapter Four: A Man Named Eddie Brock.

A/N: Hey ya’ll! I worked hard on this chapter, and I hope it shows. LOTS of angst and in this chapter, but towards the end I threw in that plot! Anyways, I hope ya’ll enjoy it and always feel free to contact me with suggestions, or anything you guys would like to see in future chapters. Also, hoping that I can stay true to the comics, and I'm building towards that, future chapter will have lots of plot and lots of nsfw content (just FYI) Love ya’ll, please stay safe!

Warnings: Smut, heavy ANGST (I.e. mentions of death, arguments) some swearing..that’s pretty much it.

Summary: Peter and y/n have some sloppy morning sex, Aunt May gives the best advice, and shit goes down at Stark Tower. 

Read chapter three here

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Heavy sleep hazed over you. You could feel cold air nipping at your toes so you drew your legs closer to your chest, unintentionally kneeing another living being in your bed. You shot backwards covering yourself, heart pounding. The covers flew back revealing peters tired (and now hurt) face. His curls were matted to his forehead, eyes sleepy and heavy. His skin sported red lines from sleep, and now he was studying you.

You looked frightened, chest rising and falling, not seeming to completely understand yet your surroundings. Your hair was wild, half tied into a falling bun, and you legs were curled underneath you, ready to push off the bed and run. Peters eyes shuffled over you, wondering what made you so jumpy.

Shouldn’t she feel safe next to me?

“It’s okay hon, c’mere.” His voice was soft and inviting. You fell back against the mattress, breathing out deeply. Peter could hear you’re heart hammering, like knocking on wood to his trained ears. He placed a hand over your chest which you took into your own, bringing it up to kiss his fingers individually, meeting his eyes and offering a small smile. Peter wanted to ask if you were okay, but he needed to know what had changed in you that caused such nervous behavior. 

But you’ve been gone for a long time.

 Is that even my business anymore?

Peters eyes scrunched at the thought and his brow furrowed harshly. You could see his troubled expression and turned to your side, sliding your hand up his cheek and meeting those warm eyes.

“Peter, what’s the matter?” You inquired. He shook his head softly finding your eyes, knowing your inability to hide from him, to hold anything back when he looked in them deeply. Something had changed in you since he had left, and he expected things to be different. But not like this. Seeing you frightened, and jumping away from him merited worry within him, and he had to know. “What happened while I was away?” Your became small curling down, and Peter knew immediately by your expression that something had happened. He hoped that you wouldn’t get angry with him for needing to know, but his heart couldn’t help but feel as if he had failed to protect you. 

And yet, here you were cowered into your pillow, hands drawn closely to your face, refusing to let anything slip. “Y/n, please...You jump away from me like I’m going to kill you, you flinch in your sleep when I touch you. If something happened I just need to know so that I can help you.” His voice was earnest and caring. His fingers gently lifted your chin to face his eyes, and you studied his face. Honest intentions and love was all that could be found. “When you left, something happened, and I had to start seeing a doctor. He diagnosed me with Anxiety...” Peter’s eyebrows raised as you trailed off. “Oh and also Major Depression.” You finished, gnawing at your nails. Peter carefully grabbed your hand away from your face, kissing your fingers. “Can you tell me what happened...Is that my fault?”

Yes. Yes it is. 

“No, of course its not your fault.” you stated, your fingers tracing his lips. “And I don’t think I’m ready to discuss it just yet.” You hoped that your words weren’t too sharp, that Peter wouldn’t be able to feel the resentment you still held. Many talks with your counselor had proven that it was easy to forgive Peter when he was long gone, and never coming back. But here he was, directly in front of you, and there was a face to the name that had marred your lips for the past year. 

Can I really move past this?

You knew that Destiney’s answer would be ‘Fuck no.’ So your mind wandered to your parents, what might they have said? You couldn’t gauge, they had been deceased for such a long time, you’d have no way of knowing. You were pretty sure your counselors answer would be something along the lines of... “In order to be able to forgive him, you need to let him first know what he did wrong.”

You snorted internally to yourself. It wasn’t time. And even when it was, it had to be done in a gentle way, a way that Peter could mourn as well, because it was his child, after all. It would need to be done with no animosity, no hurt feelings. Just support and love. Peter’s hands traced over your shoulders and down your arms, sending shivers over your body. “You’re so beautiful...but you look so different.” He didn’t meet your eyes, focus only trained on your body, as if he was just having a conversation with himself. 

“Yeah I’ve lost weight...” your voice cracked. You were embarrassed. You used to have beautiful curves, but after becoming severely depressed you had gotten down to one meal a day. Destiney called you every day to threaten getting on the first plane to New York if you didn’t start eating again. You had improved a lot over the last few months, but your struggles weren’t lost by you. “Destiney got me back on...somewhat of an eating schedule. I’m doing much better. I kind of just lost myself after...you left...” You trailed off, noticing Peter’s sad expression, he lifted his head to meet you. “Well, I’m here now. And I’m going to stuff you full as a tick.” He winked as you laughed at the expression he had stolen from you. Something your grandmother used to say. 

“Okay then, I won’t complain about that.” your eyes sparkled up at peter as his smile warmed your chest, he rolled over on top of you, warm skin blanketing you, making you feel protected. “You won’t complain about this either...” He breathed into your ear, lightly nibbling at your earlobe. You didn’t realize how ready you were for him until Peter slipped inside of you, drawing out a soft moan. The morning sun was just peeking through the curtains, and you felt safe in his arms as he caressed, and lazily kissed you, movements slow and relaxed as he savored you. And that’s how the rest of your first morning with Peter was spent, your breathless moans mingling in the air along with Peter’s soft grunts, sloppy kisses, and a lazy cleanup afterwards, followed with the pair of you tangling up, and once again falling into a peaceful sleep. 

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You stirred again for the second time that day with peter breathing gently next to you. The sun seemed to be well into the sky now. You studied Peter as he slept and felt a giddy smile cross your face. His eyes were soft, his lips slightly parted as he snored lightly. You smirked as you untangled yourself from his arms and checked your phone, finding you had slept until eleven.

That’s what good sex will do to you.

You laughed to yourself, unable to shake your airy feeling as you slipped out of bed and threw on peters tee that was strewn over the floor with the rest of your clothes. You crept downstairs, making coffee as your phone buzzed. It was MJ.

Well that good mood didn’t last long.

A realization came to you as you stared at the picture of her smiling and hugging you around the neck from behind: Your friends knew about Peter, and lied to you. A small pit gathered in your throat as you clicked the ignore button and slammed your phone back down, running your hands through your hair.

You heard Peter clambering down the stairs, you shook your nerves pulling the cream out of the fridge and continuing to make a cup for yourself and Peter. “Still take your coffee black? No sugar, right?” Peter nodded but his look was more concerned. “What’s wrong hon?” You rolled your neck out, forcing a half smile. “Fine. MJ just called me.” He looked confused. “Did you talk to her?” You shook your head. “Nope. And I don’t really want to either.” Peter nodded slowly, deciding not to push you on the topic, but you needed to rant anyways. “I just think it’s funny she knew where you were at and didn’t say a thing to me. Especially after what I went through, she could have told you...or me... it’s whatever.” You trailed off sipping your coffee and meeting his eyes over the brim of your mug. You could feel the yearning to let your hurt and anger out to Peter building up but you kept reminding yourself, it’s not the right time.

“Tell me what..?” Peter’s curious look was making it difficult to hide your own pain. “Ugh..we have a lot to discuss...but let’s start with you. What’s going on Peter? I still don’t know exactly why you had to leave.” His expression was hard but he sat next to you at the bar, and held your hand. “I just want to start by saying that I’m sorry I left you...I never wanted to...I always made sure you were safe. Tony’s been having people watch out for you, so you were never in any danger. But, Nick Fury got word about a major corporation in San Francisco that's been harboring illegal alien life forms.” You blinked at Peter and he sighed. “This sounds fucking nuts, I know.” He ran his hands through his hair and sat back in his chair. “Yeah it does but I’m listening so go ahead.” You still struggled to process all of this information but continued to power through as Peter explained a symbiotic life form attempting to merge with him, and soon after running loose in accompany with three more and murdering several people across the United States, including New York.

You sat back and slowly nodded. “Right here in New York...” you bit at your nails softly and glared at Peter. “Yes. And the rest of the avengers have been running around here like crazy trying to contain it. It uses the victims body, like a host, for a short amount of time, and when it feeds off of them to the point they can’t go on, it abandons them to find a new host. Leaving them dead, or in critical condition. The one here in New York, that’s still on the loose, seems to be more...violent in its actions. But my focus was to go to San Fran to find the source and attempt to capture one, well only one of two that still survived anyways.  But Tony ended up doing that in one week...so...” Peter sat back as he grumbled his last sentence. “Why couldn’t you tell me this?” You shook your head at him. “Because I knew you’d want to go with me to San Francisco and I couldn’t put you in danger or impede on your life. You’re so busy with school I knew you’d graduate this year, and it’s so important to me that you reach your goals, I couldn’t uproot you like that, and put you in harms way.” Trying to be understanding was hard, but you knew peters intentions were good. You had been working hard to graduate, and work for homeland security, your dream. You couldn’t imagine peter would do anything to jeopardize your career or your safety. But there was still a couple of things you needed him to address.

“And as for MJ, May, Ned, the rest of our friends? They know, don’t they?” Peter nodded with shame. “All of them.” He stated, your suspicions confirmed. “And they ALL lied to me.” Your lips puffed in anger as you crossed your arms. “They never wanted to, especially May...” you sat up straight, meeting peters eyes. “Well at least May invited me over, and cared for me. No one else ever came to see me, matter of fact, they avoided me.” Peter breathed deeply. “Because I asked them to.” Your stare was ice, penetrating peters heart.

Now you’ve done it.

“And I need you to know why...if they saw you like that they would have told you everything. I couldn’t have that happen, y/n it’s dangerous!” You slid off of your barstool, storming up the stairs into your bedroom, ripping off peters tee shirt and pulling on a towel. His eyes followed you. “Y/n please say something to me...” his voice was sad and needy, but your anger trumped everything he could feel. Your head was getting hot, anger bubbling over, clouding your judgment, you no longer cared about your actions. You stormed over to your night side table, ripping open the drawer you took out the small piece of paper he had left you, his eyes were shocked. “You left me with this. Just this. You had me watched, compliments of the philanthropist playboy-billionaire Tony stark. And I couldn’t know a thing about you. But what you don’t know? Is that I was pregnant with your child when you left me. And sad to say, I lost it right on that bathroom floor. So don’t talk to me about ‘dangerous’ because for a while, I was a danger to myself. And you weren’t there.”

You cut your words short due to the tears in your throat, slamming down the letter on the nightstand, and turning to go shower. “Sonograms in the fucking drawer next to our picture, if you wanted to see it, babe. Congrats.” You jarred shut the bathroom door with a loud thud, leaving Peter standing with tears welled in his eyes. He couldn’t say a word. His breath was caught in his throat as tears involuntary slid down his cheeks. He walked over to the nightstand and pulled the drawer open fully, revealing the picture of you and him at his internship graduation, right before he became an actual Avenger. He softly picked up the folded envelope next to it that had written in your curly handwriting “Baby Parker.” Opening it up, he withdrew a tiny print out of a black and white depiction, a tinsy little squiggle with an arrow pointing at it stated “baby.” He put the photo back in the envelope and folded it into his pocked, sniffing hard.

You shuddered as you heard the front door slam downstairs. Peter was gone. Maybe he’d walk out of your life for good this time. A part of your heart hurt for him, imagining the shock and pain he was enduring, you desperately wanted to hold him or comfort him. “I didn’t have him to comfort me, and I survived.” You spoke aloud to yourself, as if it would convince you that he would be okay too.

So much for gentle and loving.

You washed your thoughts away, letting the steam consume you.

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Peter padded harshly along the sidewalk towards May’s apartment. Tears stained his face and he hoped that no one noticed as he passed them. Bounding up the stairs and fumbling with the door, Peter burst through and slammed it shut behind him. Head resting on the frame, as his hands traveled through his hair.

I shouldn’t have left her like this...

“Peter..?” Mays soft voice beckoned his attention, he turned around to meet her eyes. Her face settled with understanding. “So you know.” She stated, shifting her feet. “May it’s all my fault.” Peters voice cracked as his tears fell, he carried himself over to the kitchen table and fell hard into a chair as May’s arms wrapped around him, gently comforting him as she had done for you many nights. “You can’t blame yourself, Pete. Sometimes it happens to women.” Peter pulled slowly away from her embrace and his bleary eyes gazed up at her, he was slowly shaking his head. “But maybe if I didn’t go...” May shook her head and put a finger to his lips. “Uhh-uh, hush. You did what you needed to do, and y/n was taken care of, she had Destiney and she had me. What’s done is done, you can’t sit and hone on it. Mourne if you need to, but most of all, you need to talk to her about it.” Peter laughed despite everything else. “Talk to her? She doesn’t even want to look at me May?” May chuckled.

“That’s not true Peter, you were over there all night. Everything is new to her, and for you too. You both need time to communicate and discuss what happened.” May nodded her head at Peter encouragingly. He wiped his face clean with his hands. “Okay.” He stated simply. Peter grabbed his phone to shoot you a quick text apologizing for leaving, and to see if you’d be okay to talk later.

Pulling out the envelope his fingers traced over the little squiggle in the photo. “I was a dad, May. I didn’t even know it. Why didn’t you call me? I would have came back?” Peter looked up at may with a hurt expression, and her own features hardened. “For the same reason you didn’t tell her you’d left, Pete. It would stop you from doing what you needed to do.” Although Peter was hurt he understood why May had hidden it from him. It became clear to him everyone had something to hide from one another, not just him from you.

His phone buzzed and he hastily picked it up, sad to see Tony’s name instead of yours. He slid to answer the call and Tony’s frantic voice bleared through the speakers before he could even give a proper greeting. “Kid you gotta make it over here, ASAP!” Tony continued bellowing on so Peter hung up the phone. “May I gotta go.” Peter let out a frustrated grumble as he hugged his aunt quickly, activating his suit. Slipping out of the window, he raced towards Stark Tower.

________________________________________________________________

Needless to say, what Peter stumbled upon his arrival was a mess. Furniture was knocked over everywhere, Tony was in full suit, arm raised towards a large glass mixing bowel that Natasha was perched on top of, Steve was shouting at her, hands flailing through the air. “Get off of the fucking bowel and just let him blast the damn thing Nat?!” Natasha held fast her position, the goopy substance tumbled around in its confinement, struggling to escape. “No can do Steve! We’ve worked too hard to find these things and contain them, we need to keep them alive, for research. What if it’s potentially a more dangerous threat then we first imagined? And what if there’s more?” She struggled heavily against the rumbling bowel as she spoke. “We need to know more about them!” Steve rolled his eyes his hands met his face in frustration. “Not at the cost of killing you? That thing would have to if we wouldn’t have stopped it!”

Natasha gasped in frustration. “We don’t know that! If it wanted to infect me it would have, it’s like it’s searching for something else.” Tony stood strong, charging up his reactor, aim ready to fire. “Pete, go get her off the damn bowel and I’ll do the rest.” Peter didn’t think anyone had sensed his presence yet in all the chaos, but his mind was filled with questions. “How did it get out?” He blurted. Steve turned his head slightly, still not taking his eyes off of Nat and the vibrating mixing bowel. “We don’t know, this thing is smart, one second we were all up here having a drink, and the next it had set itself loose and was fighting to get out of the flat. Nat trapped it in this bowel.

“WHICH IS MY FAVORITE MIXING BOWEL, BY THE WAY!” Peter turned to see Pepper flying downstairs to join the madness. “Tony stark I told you to get rid of that fucking thing or take it somewhere else! I know Nick Fury has a perfectly good lab somewhere but you keep it held up here like a house pet while you and Peter prod at it day in and day out!” Her eyes flickered towards Peter, who froze in his place. “No offense, Peter...” she added, unable to bitch him out without feeling hurt.

“None taken..so how do we...handle this?” Peter stammered. “Just told you kiddo. Go tear black widow here off of the bowel and I’ll handle the rest.” Both Natasha and Pepper rather loudly protested at the same time, causing Peter to cringe. Nat carried on about how it didn’t need to be killed, and pepper seemed to be screeching about her rug and coffee table, causing everyone to jump when a voice approached behind the group.

“You could just let me have Venom back?” Peter whipped around, instinctively webbing the mans hand to the wall. Nat clung to the bowel even tighter, and Tony turned his attention, as Steve ran down to the lab. (peter presumed to go find his shield.) “Sorry, have WHO back?” Tony asked sarcastically. “And also why the fuck are you in my house?” The man was tall, with bulky shoulders, his voice was gruff and stubble lined his cheeks. He was wearing a casual hoodie, sleeves rolled up, tattoos covered his left arm that was webbed to the wall. “Yeah, security is shit here by the way, no offense mister Stark, and I’m referring to my symbiote, I’d like him back now, before you idiots fucking kill him.” Steve arrived back downstairs, clutching his shield tightly.

Peter blinked, unable to speak. Tony’s mask opened, and he stared the man down, cautiously lowering his hand. “What is your name? And why are you giving that thing a name?” He questioned. “Names Eddie Brock, I’m from Cali. Might’ve heard of me from my show, but that’s not important right now. I’m calling him venom, because that  his is name, and he’s my symbiote.” Eddie turned his attention to peter. “Say kid, you wanna get this off my arm? Your girlfriend might be into this type of shit but I’m not.” Peter thought of you briefly webbed to his bed, but pushed the thought far back reminding himself now wasn’t the time. He slowly shook his head, not sure how to gauge the situation. “Oh for fucks sake, Venom, I know you’re weak buddy but ya gotta help me out here a little?” Everyone’s attention turned towards Natasha as the bowel rattled violently and busted. Glass showered the ground as the symbiote twisted and shot across the floor towards Eddie, pressing against his skin. Eddie let out a sharp cry, then a second later appeared to be normal again, ripping his arm away from the webbing.

“Alright...” he started with a relieved sigh. “That’s much better. You guys wanna come sit down, I think we have a lot to discuss?” Everyone collectively steed at each other, then back at Eddie and nodded slowly, making their way to the table. “Alright good, we got lots to catch up on, so let’s get started.”

——————————————————————————

@pcterparxer

[hermionemonica]

Cause I knew I was in love with you (when we sat in silence): Marichat May 2020 - Day 10

(Sorry for the late Tumblr update, I had some problems with the internet last night. It is still day 10 somewhere, right?)

AO3 | For the @marichatmay

Collab with @lalunaoscura

DAY 1 | <- 9 | 10 | 11 ->

Day 10 — Can I borrow your miraculous?

“Hello?” She picked her phone, still sleepy. Her hand slid across the bed, searching for Chat, but he wasn’t there.

“Marinette? Are you not coming to school today?”

She opened her eyes and sat in the bed, moving the phone away from the ear to see the screen.

It was Monday.

She was late for school.

And it was Adrien calling her.

Oh, shit.

“Sorry, I was sleeping! But I will be there in five minutes. Three if I find my things.”

He chuckled.

“Okay. I- I really want to talk with you.”

“About?” she jumped off the bed, running to the bathroom.

“About Friday.”

She froze in the place, forgetting what she was doing.

“But we can talk about this when you’re here, okay? I’ll be waiting for you in front of the school.”

“O-Ok. Bye.”

She got ready in record time and ran to the school. He was there, waiting for her, like he told her, sitting in the stairs and looking at his foot, looking restless.

She stopped, took a deep breath and sat down next to him. Adrien looked up, at her, and gave her a contained smile.

“I’m glad you made it.”

“It was a marathon. Urgh, I really need to increase the volume of my alarm.”

He laughed this time and picked his water bottle, handing it to her. She took it, a little shy, and took a big sip.

“Hey, Marinette?”

She looked up and he bit his bottom lip, but in the end he sighed.

“I want to apologize for my behaviour on Friday. It was unfair and childish.”

“Oh.”

“The truth is that…” he scratched his neck, nervously. “I wanted to hang out with you more and I was thinking about asking you to the park during the weekend, but you had already made plans with Luka, so… I didn’t react well with the rejection. And I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay, Adrien. For real.”

“Thank you, Marinette,” he smiled and stood up and stretched out his hand to help her up. “Come on, we don’t want to make Ms Mendeleiev mad.”

 *

  Adrien looked on as Marinette and Plagg chatted animatedly with each other. It was sweet, how the kwami had taken a liking to her. Hell, he even called her Princess a few times (something Adrien did not like that much). But it was nice to see two of the most important people in his life getting along so well.

“You know what kid?” Plagg floated over to his chosen.

“Why do your eyes look like you are having a terrible idea?” Chat Noir responded, flinching a little. That expression was almost always bad news.

“I have an idea, but it is not a terrible one.”

Before Adrien could respond, Marinette crawled closer. “Spill, kitty!”

“So,” he flitted around to float right by the side of Marinette's face. “I think Marinette will make a superb Chat Noir.”

“YES!”

“NO!”

They both spoke at the same time. Interestingly, their opinions of Plagg's idea had taken a U-turn in just a few seconds.

“You guys have got to be kidding me!” Marinette stood up on her feet and crossed her arms over her chest.

“But what's wrong with it?” Chat Noir stood up too. “I think you will be amazing in a catsuit!”

“But,” she tried to argue, “It is your Miraculous!”

“And I want to lend it to you!” He almost took his ring off his finger, but Marinette stopped him by putting her hand on top of his. He looked at her with a pout, “It will be just for a few minutes! No one but us will know!”

Marinette glared daggers at Plagg, who was snickering behind Chat. He had put her in such a sticky situation! How was she supposed to tell Chat Noir that she could not use the Black Cat Miraculous because she was already wearing the Ladybug ear-rings?

“I-uh, I need to pee!” Saying so, she ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

“What do I do, Tikki?” Marinette slumped against the wall as she spoke in a hushed voice. 

“It doesn’t look like he is going to give up, does it?”

“No, all thanks to Plagg.” Marinette rolled her eyes.

“I knew the stinky sock would be up to mischief some way or another,” Tikki muttered.

“So?” Marinette whispered urgently. “Is there any way I can get out of this without hurting Chat's feelings?”

“I am afraid not, Marinette.” 

Marinette clutched her head in her hands. This was a disaster!

“Hey, don’t freak out, okay?” Tikki flew up in front of her nose. “Just remember to take off your ear-rings before you put on the ring. As long as it's for a little while, I guess you will be fine.”

Marinette nodded. She took off her Miraculous, hoping there would be enough time to switch back in case of an akuma. She handed them over to Tikki, who swooped into her purse after giving a smile towards her chosen.

When she came back into the room, Chat was sitting up looking at her expectantly. 

Ugh, he knows I can't say no to those kitty eyes.

“Pwease pwincess?” He pouted.

She bent down and mushed his cheeks between both her hands. “You’re lucky that you are so cute.”

“You think I am cute?” How the hell did he manage to be so cocky even with his cheeks mushed up like that?

“You are an idiot.” She declared, plopping down.

“So, is that a yes?” He nudged her with his shoulder.

“Yeah,” she relented. How could she stay mad at this silly boy?  

“I did not hear you.” Oh, there was her answer.

“Chat,” she warned.

“You need to ask nicely, Princess.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Chat Noir, can I borrow your Miraculous?”

Chat took off his ring with so much excitement that he almost tripped over himself. He got up on one knee with a dramatic flourish of his hair, and held up his ring in front of her.

Marinette giggled as she accepted the ring.

As soon as she put it on her finger, Plagg zoomed over to float in front of her. “Hello again.”

“You know how a Miraculous works, right?” It was Chat who asked the question.

Marinette froze. “Wha- haha, why would you say that?”

“Because Mullo?” Chat offered.

“Oh yeah, right!” She breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment she had thought her secret was out.

Marinette took a deep breath, and extended her fist.

“Plagg, transforme-moi!”

An entire transformation sequence later, Marinette stood in front of Chat in all her black cat glory, as the boy looked on with literal stars in his eyes.

“You look so awesome!” He squealed.

Marinette shuffled her feet awkwardly. At least Plagg had been smart enough to change her suit from Lady Noire’s.

The top of her suit was comprised of a black cheongsam top, much like her mother’s. Her arms were covered by black leather gloves ending underneath the sleeve of her top. Black leather tights covered her legs and ballet flats sat on her feet. A bow at her hip elongated into a long tail. Her blue hair was tied up in two pointed buns, which vaguely resembled cat ears.

She kinda liked this look. And no one could draw any similarity between her and Lady Noire.

“Princess?” Chat wiggled his eyebrows. “Or should I say, Gongzhu Noire?”

“Princess Black?” Marinette snorted and cocked her hips to the side. “How long have you been thinking about that name, cat boy?”

“Longer than you think.” He winked and made finger guns at her.

“So,” she spun around, “How do I look?”

How was he supposed to tell her that she was making his heart beat so fast that he was afraid she would hear it?  

“You look awesome.” Yes, that was safe.

“Don't you mean, pawe-some?”

Marinette punning in a catsuit? Had he died and gone to heaven?

With a lot of effort, he managed to keep the grin on his face. “Would you mind striking a pose for me, Minette?”

“Another nickname?” Marinette rolled her eyes. “Do you spend all your time dreaming about me in a catsuit?”

Chat Noir let out a nervous laugh at that.

“So, what do you say?” He said, holding up his phone in front of her, ready to take pictures.

“NO!” Marinette lunged forward and placed a hand over the camera lens. “You can’t do that!”

“What?”

“If those photos are leaked somehow, then it might make us end up in a very compromising position, Chat!” Marinette spoke in an urgent voice.

She looked straight into his eyes. Where did her blue eyes go?

“Chat Noir, are you listening to me?”

“Uhh, yes?” He snapped out of his reverie. “I think you are right.”

Marinette smirked. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t pose for you.”

She stepped back and stood with her feet slightly apart. “For your eyes only, cat boy.” Folding her hands over her head and cocking her hips to the side, she stood in a pose that clearly could be called sexy. Was it Plagg? Or did she really enjoy killing him like that?

His cheeks were burning as Marinette struck pose after pose effortlessly. How did she do that? How was she so absolutely flawless?

He knew it would be wrong. Taking a photo of a girl without her consent could be termed as sexual harassment. But he would never use it for any wrong reasons! He was not that kind of a guy! This was just for himself. As she said, for his eyes only. His eyes needed some way to immortalize this moment forever.

So he sneakily took a couple of photos on his phone when she wasn’t paying attention.

“Have you had enough?” She was now laying on her belly, propped up on her elbows, with her feet in the air.

“I guess.” He was almost panting from his excitement now. If this went on for too long, he was going to have a heart attack.

“Alright then,” she got up on her knees. “Plagg, detransformation!”

The green light ran over her body, leaving sweet Marinette in her place. “Hello.” She smiled sweetly, but she seemed a little shy.

“Welcome back, my Princess.” Chat returned the smile. She always looked adorable, be it in a white shirt and black blazer, or a grey and pink spandex suit, or a black leather suit. 

“Here,” Marinette placed the ring in his palm and got up. “I need to go to the washroom.”

“I'm back too.” Plagg swooped around him as soon as he put on the ring. 

“Hello, you little shit.” Chat scratched the back of his ear before offering him a slice of camembert.

When Marinette came back, she sat down in front of him. “So,” she began shyly, “How was it?”

“What can I say, my colors look really good on you,” he winked.

Marinette giggled in response, and a second later it transitioned into a yawn. It seemed like the cutest thing to him. “You want to go to bed?”

“Yes please,” she replied.

“Come on then,” he stood up and offered her a hand. “Let’s call it a night.”

(Gongzhu Noire artwork)

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Finally, the chapter is here. It took a while to get it done and it's been a struggle in some ways.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it despite long waiting :)

Your comments mean the world to me even though I don't always have time to answer each of you. <3

BIG thanks to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur <3 She's truly a gem and has saved this chapter from miserable failure. I can't give you enough credits, Anne. But I'm glad to have you on this journey with me.

Part II will follow shortly after this one, possibly on Thursday :)

P.S. For the better atmosphere I recommend you to put on Dire Straits song "Romeo and Juliet" :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJmER493F4U

A link for AO3.

Enjoy! ♥

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

                                   CHAPTER IV: Lovestruck. Part I

"I'm taking ye on a wee trip, Claire." Jamie stood in the doorway of the locker room, car keys in his right hand. "Ye need fresh air, ye look like yer about to fall down".

My mind froze for a second taken aback by his (dashing as always) appearance.

"Jamie, I can't. I -"

He did not let me finish raising his hand up, gesturing me to be quiet.

"There is no 'I can't' or 'No'. I dinna accept that." He stepped closer. "Maybe I am no doctor but I still can see when someone's worn out."

To be very honest he was right. In the last week, I’ve had ten major surgeries, several new patients to care for. I promised Terry to fill in for her and worked two additional shifts. And just thirty minutes ago I finished partial colectomy. I felt completely drained.

“But what about our… date?” I looked at him trying to find my keys buried in the depths of the bag. The word “date” still sounded strange, and sometimes inappropriate for me (I did not know if we were dating or having a friendship with benefits).

“A wee change of plan.” Jamie clicked his tongue, his hand laid at the back of my neck. “This will be our date then. Just ye, me and some nature.” 

He pressed a quick kiss on the spot behind my ear. That soft, tender one that made me wonder, could this be forever? Or will we end up staying just Claire and just Jamie having fun?

"Take her will ye! She willna listen to me," smirked Geillis. "I'll take care of yer wee cheetie while yer away. So dinna fash, lovies.”

I rolled my eyes. Jamie coughed clearly trying to hide a laugh.

“I promise I willna be angry at ye for ruining our cinema time tradition. Just next time it’s my turn to choose a movie”. And just like that, grabbing the house keys from my hands she was gone.

“Tell me there is a hot shower where you’re taking me and I can borrow one of your gym's t-shirts for sleeping?” My head dropped back, fitting perfectly in the space between his collarbone and jaw.

Jamie’s hands circled around my waist locking just above my navel.

“There is a bath, Sassenach. An improvement to yer wee shower.” He nuzzled his nose against my hair. “And I can assure ye, ye willna need a sleeping shirt.”

A habit of falling asleep almost anywhere was my superpower. After we got into Jamie’s crossover Peugeot with Tesco groceries for our breakfast I immediately dozed off. The last time I sat in his car was two weeks ago, exactly three days after our first real date as Jamie called it. 

Appearing at the hospital without any warning, he volunteered to bring me home after work. Though the GPS in Jamie’s phone had announced that the distance between Braid Road and Lauderdale street was just fifteen minutes I didn’t walk out of the car for at least thirty. I laughed needing to admit that sex in the car is not as comfortable as it looks on TV. Jamie frantically searched the glovebox for a condom while creating a mess of tissues, mints, and papers. I struggled with the front seat that didn’t want to go down. Though in the end, nothing was an obstacle. Later that evening as I prepared for bed, I welcomed the hickey starting to bloom bright purple on my neck.

I felt very much cozy in his car (despite previous activity here). Jamie had turned the seat warmer on (making fun of me for not handling Scottish weather “Ye English, weak creatures”). Shamelessly, I stole his coat to cover my always-cold-legs. The soft blur of Mark Knopfler’s voice on the radio and passing lights were the ones that made me sleepy. I awoke sometime later, noticing the familiar scenery disappeared and the darkness of the countryside had eaten all the electric lights. Jamie’s hand rested on my knee, his thumb drawing patterns that he only knew. He had a dreamy, faraway look about him. There was no GPS this time. Jamie knew his way, leading us through the Highlands where the history was almost palpable. Like that time (four days after car sex) when I had come back from a late shift at the hospital and called him.

It was the day I seemed to be annoyed with everything and everybody. I felt annoyed with Geillis and her endless discussion about her latest sexual encounter. With Adso for weeing on my fluffy bathroom rug. Even my touchpad on my phone betrayed me! Wasting my time on my coffee break with coffee that tasted like an old sock. Does it ever stop raining? And Jamie left for a four day trip to Broch Mordha. But most of all I was annoyed with myself for coming to the realization that I actually missed him.

I was exhausted. Too tired to cook, I ate three spoons of quinoa cold straight out of the fridge. Falling into bed, I felt each sore muscle in my back as I stared into the ceiling for minutes or possibly hours. I managed to get out of my clothes and just crawl under the duvet not showered, naked, with makeup on. Breaking all of my three own rules.

Jamie’s number was dialled in seconds without any hesitation (my fourth rule was broken as well). He picked up after five long beeps (I actually counted).

“Sassenach?” His voice deep with sleep.

Christ. What a smart one you are, Beauchamp. Normal people sleep at one am. He was asleep, clearly.

“Claire?” He shifted, readjusting position, sheets rustling in the background. “If someone abducted ye and yer calling me now to come and get ye, ye gotta let me know. Otherwise, I really would like to get back to my warm pillow. Of course, it’s not as nice as when yer with me but…”

There was banter in his voice but suddenly I felt ashamed, foolish for calling him like that. (Hoping for what exactly? )

"I’m sorry. I did not realize it was so late." 

The incoherent mumbling poured out of me then. I was telling him all about how annoyed I was all day, about the rug I probably would have to throw away, how can’t I sleep now and a million other things before he finally shushed me.

“I miss ye too, Sassenach.”

My mind stilled then. The warmth rising up somewhere inside, behind my breastbone and running down to my cold fingers and toes, creating the sun under my skin.

“Do ye want me to tell ye a story to sleep?”

He told me then all about ancient castles, about the brave Highlanders and the battles they fought, Jacobite rebellions, mythical creatures and tales of the mountains. He was a born storyteller.  Charming in fact. 

I had fallen asleep feeling his presence even though he was away.

Jamie looked like he belonged here. With the mountains and grassy moors. With Knopfler’s voice singing "You and me, babe, how about it?".

“I did not know you were Dire Straits fan”. The smile crept in and took possession of my lips as I whispered my silent observation. His eyes fixed on me for mere seconds but long enough to drown in the blue depths of them once again. He looked at me in a way that made me shiver, made me feel a growing warmth mixed with lust that went deep down to the marrow of my bones. The navy of his slightly slanted eyes dug inside and stamped a mark at the very bottom of my core. That same look he gave me when I sat only-knickers-on at his bed legs crossed some days ago.

I could feel the blue marks getting born under my skin at the tender layer of paleness on my thighs where he held me just minutes ago (the bitterness of vague pain as his fingers pressed onto the tops of my flesh and the hot wave of my release making my stomach turn). Jamie’s place was a small studio on the outskirts of Edinburgh. It felt half empty and lonely, screamed for a touch of coziness. He’d explained he stays mostly in Broch Mordha with family. After his mom died a couple of years ago there was an aching hole and need for them to be together.

Jamie fell silent when we stood in the shower, hot water washing off the memories of my own parent's death. We slept. Together, limbs tangled under the rumpled sheets, Jamie’s warm hands soothing the marks he had left on me. That morning I’d said to him I wanted it easy and fun. “I don’t want to hurt you or myself. I want us to live in this moment. Just Claire and Jamie. No promises no regrets.”

“ I wouldna wish to hurt ye, Sassenach. Not ever.”

Then he stated more than asked, “It’s just Claire and Jamie having fun, see where it leads us, aye?”

For two nights, I dreamt about him. Of touching him. Of his swollen lip from my kiss. Of the way his breath hitched when he whispered “Claire”. I was painfully, utterly aware of him, of his presence making residence somewhere deep inside me. I lived with his smell (sharp and clean, hay and crisp air) which seemed to be everywhere, in each cell of mine and at the back of my throat.

Now my life consisted of flirty texting nonstop (I did not know I was able to do that being 32 years old anymore), of occasional Skype sessions when Jamie was away to Broch Mordha (me with a messy curly bun and old pajamas, glass of wine in one hand and Adso snuggling beside me; Jamie bare chest, bloody furnace he was, with whisky and his nieces and nephews popping to the screen from time to time). 

One of those evenings young Jamie had asked his uncle who I was. (“that doctor lady ye talk a lot with, Ma says ye fancy her, is she yer girlfriend?”)

My heart skips a bit then waiting for Jamie’s answer. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to hear it (as if I hoped for something more, just drop it, Beauchamp). By now I’ve spent enough time with Jamie to know that his face could not hide any emotion. He would be the worst liar on Earth and there’s nothing that could be done about it. It was all there. Written on his face and easy for anyone to read. The tips of his ears became scarlet red as he shot a look to me on the screen and then back to his nephew who now was waving to me.

“Well, I do fancy Claire, aye.”

Before my smitten mind could conjure up any appropriate response wee Maggie was in the screen, climbing onto Jamie’s lap and pointing her little finger at me.

“Will ye marry her then, uncle Jamie?”

I choked on my wine and nearly spilled it on peacefully sleeping Adso.

“Should I call her doctor Claire, uncle Jamie?” Little girl shifted on Jamie’s laps looking up at him.

“Noooo, we should call her Auntie Claire!” Her brother grinned back.

“Yer wee devils, ye’ll make a lady uncomfortable and we dinna want that, right? Let yer uncle talk in peace. Jenny, mo cridhe?”

It was the voice of Brian Fraser. It was hard not to recognize as it had the same soft blur to it as Jamie’s. I haven’t seen him, neither the rest of Jamie’s family. Only his nephew and niece. It was a territory which was sort of forbidden to trespass. Because if we did it would mean we have something more than just a fling. The truth was we both did not know what it was between us. And what we wanted it to be?

“ C’mon. Get off yer uncle, the two of ye. There’s warm milk and shortbread cookies in the kitchen.” Jenny’s hands appeared on the screen helping the children off Jamie’s lap.

Of course, Jamie talked about me with his family. I did not know what he’d shared and how much they knew but I was grateful for them for respecting my private boundaries. I wasn’t ready to meet them but also there was never a discussion of such a possibility. It’s just that they knew about the existence of Claire Beauchamp as I knew Jamie’s family was very important to him. It was enough.

When we arrived at our final destination, it was pitch dark outside. On the way here I saw the sign that said Loch Lomond. We stood in front of the grey stoned cottage surrounded by mountains peeking out in the darkness. The stillness and quietness of the place was disturbed by the only sound of car engine still running on. A narrow stone walkway with shrubs of French Hydrangea and Azalea alongside led straight to a big wooden door. “Taigh Beann” it said at the very top of it, carved into the bronze plate that hung above.

“Gaelic.” Jamie explained setting our groceries bags down. “It means House of the Mountains.”

The inside reminded me of a house of my grandparents where I spent many summers until the age of five. It was filled with all kinds of vases and figurines, large, dusty paintings of nature in gold frames, books of all imaginable kinds. The old, burgundy patterned rug laid in the living room where I squealed happily to find a fireplace. In the centre stood big brown leather couch the kind I hated in the summer because it made my skin stick to it. In the corner where green velvet armchair nestled, we found an oak round table. The bedroom was small but light. The bed was centered under a glorious skylight offering the promise of a magnificent view of a starry night sky. But the main attraction was the bathroom. My mouth dropped open and I grabbed Jamie’s hand in excitement. What I saw was stunningly beautiful. The floor was lined with marble tiles, the windows extended from floor to ceiling and ran the length of the wall. Imagine what breathtaking scenery might be outside. The centerpiece of the room was a large clawfoot bathtub big enough for two.

“I told ye there’s an improvement to yer shower, Sassenach” Jamie winked leaving me to stand astonished by the view.

Sometime later I sat in the armchair that Jamie had moved for me to the fireplace (saying that I probably lived in Spain or Greece in my previous life). He himself retreated to the kitchen with a promise of dinner. I watched the flames dance and collide together all the same as we did. We’ve known each other for the past four weeks but sometimes it felt like a lifetime. 

Our days together consisted of talking about everything and nothing, snuggling up on my couch watching Netflix, of Jamie cuddling Adso all the time. Of me ordering takeaways and only cooking breakfasts in case if Jamie stayed for the night. We used to hit the pubs once a week and get obnoxiously drunk. Then, of course, there was sex. And some more sex. We were travelling back and forth between my apartment and his studio. Jamie had fixed something in my car after he had driven it once cursing that I could have killed myself and how on earth I did not hear that sound? His toothbrush that we picked up together at Boots now lived in my bathroom and my pink cat pajamas took a residence in his closet. At the times we were not together my phone buzzed every other hour. We talked so much that I had to consider having a second mobile phone not to let my private life intervene with work. And suddenly now it struck me. What is going on Beauchamp? What has happened to you?

“I don’t like it.”  My fingers typed a text hitting the button Send to Geillis.

Three dots appeared.

“What’s that?”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“Ye mean what he has in his pants? I thought it was all perfect till now…”

Before I could reply to her in a hateful manner another two texts appeared on the screen.

“Did he bring ye to a dark forest and now ye need help to escape? What was that movie about serial killer we watched..?”

“All joking aside, what’s wrong, Claire?”

My teeth sunk into the bottom lip as I tried to conclude what I felt. Control. There it was. I was losing it. Control over the situation, my feelings, over myself. Suddenly all my life always ordered and stable went down the hill adjusting to one James Fraser. I didn’t realize just till now how much I allowed him to creep under my skin in such a short time. Usual Claire wouldn’t let anyone take her away to some trip on a whim. At least I would have bartered with him or set my conditions.

A painful lump in my throat seemed to travel down and settle around my heart squeezing it. I thought there was actual physical pain. I knew what made me feel so insecure. It was the way Jamie made me feel. Safe, cherished, loved (?). He was always there. Ready to be my strength and help. My safe place to come back to, where all my masks would come off and my vulnerable self stands. 

Like the time I caught a cold but have been so busy I had no time even to take any medicine.

Geillis dropped a pharmacy bag on my lap with a smirk on her face. “That’s from yer laddie. I dinna recall Frank ever did it to ye.” Inside there was a box of paper tissues, lozenges for sore throat, a box of Theraflu, and a little jar that looked like a jam with a yellow sticky note on it.

“I’m sure yer to busy being wrists-deep into a human that ye dinna have time to get any medicine. Even Jenny heard yer cough over the phone yesterday. Btw, that’s her handmade raspberry jam, especially for ye. I couldna get it to ye myself, have business at the brewery. Take care. Xxx.”

I grabbed a tissue from the box pretending I had a runny nose but in truth, there was a swell of tears. Geillis only smiled and left me alone staring at the bag Jamie put together for me.

Or the time when I had to cancel our date being summoned to work.

There were times I felt confident in what I was doing. But there were moments when even years of studying and experience did not give me enough confidence facing the difficult surgeries. I was half ready for the theatre play we were going to visit when our plans got interrupted. I had to be in the surgery for repair of aneurysm. Calling Jamie and mumbling “Sorry” every other second I could not stop myself from letting him know that I was actually anxious.

“There also might be a loss of blood flow to the legs from a blood clot…”

" Ye'll do just fine, Sassenach. Dinna fash. Ye have done this before, right?” He asked softly.

“Yes. But you can never guess possible complications and…” I sighed getting into my car. “Do ye think I am a bad surgeon?”

“I dinna think that, Claire. I ken that yer an excellent one. And ye shouldna ever doubt yerself. How long will it take?”

“ Three to five hours.”

“ I’m verra proud of ye, Sassenach.”

Despite my worries, the surgery went smooth. The patient was sent to ICU and was stable. I felt if the train ran over me. It was 6 am by the time I finally made it out of the hospital. Jamie’s car was standing outside and I rubbed my eyes thinking I’m imagining it. I wasn’t.

“What are you doing here?” I asked when I reached the car. “How long have you been here?”

Jamie took a sip of coffee, handing me a paper Starbucks cup.

“About two and a half hours I suppose. Didna want to miss ye.”

“Oh Jamie” I bit my lip and locked arms around his neck, my head dropped to his chest. “You didn’t need to do it but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Aye, I did.” His lips softly brushed over my temple. “How did it go?”

“Very well.” I whispered feeling my eyelids burn with the exhaustion of doing surgery for four hours.

Despite my weak protests, he brought me home. Sent me into the shower and by the time I was done he’d made scrambled eggs for me, watched that I ate all of it, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned up Adso’s litter tray and finally put me to bed as if I was a child. On the edge of sleep, I reached for his cheek, cupping it gently. “Where did you come from? Surely you’re not real”

He chuckled catching my hand to plant a kiss on each finger. “As far as I ken Ellen and Brian Frasers are the ones to blame for my existence. Sleep now, mo duinne.”

Another text from Geillis popped on the screen.

“Do ye like him?”

There I typed something I was afraid to acknowledge, something I would not be able to say out loud. But something that my fingers managed to write down on a cold white screen.

“I think I’m falling for him, Geillis. And it scares me. It scares the hell out of me.”

Three dots appeared and then stopped. And appeared again.

“Oh yer my wee poor thing. I tell ye this. Go with the flow, dinna force things but dinna resist either. I bet the lad likes ye more than ye think. He likes ye, ye like him. Just let it happen, Claire. It will lead ye to something eventually. And if ye need my shoulder to cry on, I am always there for ye.”

* * *

James Fraser was never sure what love is or what it felt like. Of course, he loved his family. He loved his sister and his nephews. Jamie would have turned the world upside down for them. He loved Ian who was like a brother to him. At the age of thirteen, Jamie thought he was in love with the neighbour’s daughter Maryl. She was bonnie. Tall and elegant with long ruddy hair just like his. He loved the feeling when they kissed. But then Brian Fraser told his youngest son that when he would meet the right woman he’ll feel it. From that time on Jamie has always remembered his Da’s words. Every time he tried to catch that feeling but it never was right. Until the moment he met Claire Beauchamp. It was as a stab into his heart and she was the only one who could stop the bleeding. As much as he tried to understand how this woman can make him want to ravish her until there’s nothing left of her and at the same time cradle and love her as the most precious thing in the world he still couldn’t. But Jamie knew he was falling in love with her and she would be the end of him.

Jamie’s voice was soft and slightly husky as he murmured along with the music playing from his phone. The kitchen was filled with a delicious smell of the meat he’d cooked and I needed to smile at the candles he had put on the table. Who would think there was a romantic inside this big Scot. My heart shattered just a bit with a sound of old cracks in it with each step I took finally reaching him from the back.

“Sassenach.”

My hands circled around him, face pressed to his broad back.

“You want to know a secret?”

“I do if it is something yer willing to share”. I could feel him smile without a need to see his face.

“I fancy you, Jamie. Very much.” My confession mirrored his that was said days ago.

“Do ye now, mo ghraidh?” He turned then to me grinning.

“What does it mean? You called me that before.” Now I smiled being trapped in his arms.

“I tell ye sometime later.” Jamie leaned in to kiss me. For a second it made me forget about our dinner. But he pulled off before I could make further implications on him.

“I have a lot of excellent plans for us tomorrow.”

“Oh do you then?” I could not resist patting his arse.

He smiled.

“Oh aye. I do.”

The rain started to fall down washing the day off as well as my worries.

[colbybrocksmolder]

Blue - Colby Brock x Reader - Part 2/3

Part 1...

*** end of last chapter ***

“How’s it going so far?” Jake quietly asked, sitting on the coffee table facing Colby. 

“Terrifyingly easy.” Colby answered, looking down and finding Ivy fast asleep. 

“Well that’s a good thing, right?”, Jake said. “Y/n seems to fit right in. Her and Tara are bonding over SpongeBob memes as we speak.” 

“That’s the terrifying part.” Colby said, gently brushing Ivy’s hair out of her face. “They’re here for a month. They’ve only been here for like 7 hours and I’m already sad that they’re going to leave.” 

Jake watched Colby gazing down at the tiny sleeping figure in his arms. “I don’t know, brother. You’re usually a loner that likes his space. You might be happy when you’ve got your apartment back”, Jake laughed. 

Colby just sighed. *what the fuck am I getting myself into?* he thought to himself. 

*** start of new chapter ***

“All done!” Tara said, her and Y/n walking out of the spare room.

“I knew she was going to crash soon.” Y/n laughed, seeing Ivy once again asleep on Colby.

“This girl has endless energy.” Colby laughed, holding her tight against him while he sat up, making room for the girls on the couch.

“I told you. Having a kid is a lot of work.” Y/n replied, taking a seat next to Colby.

“Mike is the one that ran around playing tag with her for over an hour”, he laughed. “I got the easy job. We took naps and watched movies.”

“Well I, for one, am exhausted.” Y/n said, reaching to grab Ivy. “Us two are going to head to bed.”

Colby shifted Ivy from his arms to Y/n’s. “If you guys need anything at all, come get me. I don’t even care if I’m asleep.”

“He’s a deep sleeper.” Tara laughed. “Make sure you bring something to hit him with if you need to wake him up.”

Colby nodded, “She’s not wrong.”

“I think we have everything we need”, Y/n laughed. She turned to Colby. “Thank you again for making this so easy. All of you guys have gone out of your way to make us feel welcome.”

“You ARE welcome, Y/n. Both of you.” He could see her getting choked up again. “I’m going to walk these two out while you two get settled in your room.”

“It was so nice meeting you guys.” Y/n said, waving to Tara and Jake as she made her way to her bedroom.

“Same. I’m looking forward to hanging out again.” Tara replied while Jake waved.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Colby said, walking them to the door so he could lock it after they left. Once the door was locked, Colby walked the apartment making sure everything was turned off or put away. He hesitated at the spare bedroom door before lightly knocking.

“Come in.” Y/n called, throwing her hair up in a messy bun as Colby opened the door.

“Hey, I just wanted to check in one more time.” He said, standing in the doorway.

She looked over at him. “I’m sorry I got emotional a minute ago.” y/n apologized, looking away from Colby. “I’m exhausted and the trip was stressful….” She rambled.

Colby walked towards y/n, interrupting her with a hand on her shoulder. “Y/n. While I have no doubt that road tripping with an almost 3-year-old is stressful…I know there’s something else bugging you”, he said, pulling her into a tight hug. “I don’t know if something happened or if maybe someONE made you feel like you don’t deserve to be treated well, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’m literally only a room away.”

Y/n nodded, her face hidden against Colby. “I’m just…I’m realizing a lot being around you guys for even just a short time.”

“I mean, we ARE kind of awesome.” Colby teased, trying to break the tension. He smiled hearing her laugh. “Get some sleep. You’ve got a few more people to meet tomorrow.”  

Colby woke up the next morning to loads of noise coming from his living room. When he turned over and checked his phone he realized why. It was almost 1pm. “Oh fuck.” He croaked out, slipping a clean hoodie on before noticing something on his bedside table. There was a piece of computer paper with a crayon drawing on it. A stick figure in blue and a heart in red.

He walked out to the living room with the drawing in his hand. “Good morning, sleepy head.” Mike teased him, “Did my baby sleep well?”

“I slept like a rock, sweet cheeks”, Colby replied, blowing Mike a kiss.

Mike moved to “catch” the kiss Colby blew him before turning and pretending to wipe it all over Sam’s face.

“Noooo. No!” Sam dramatically wiped his hands on his face.

Ivy was cracking up watching the whole exchange. “Iiiiivyyyy” Colby drew out her name, holding up the drawing he had found by his bed. “Is this mine?” he asked, squatting down next to where she was coloring at the coffee table.

She looked up at him, nodding yes. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m going to hang it up over here.” He took the drawing and hung it on his fridge. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?” Colby asked, turning back to the room.

“I was going to when Ivy went to put the drawing in your room, but she shushed me and pointed towards the door.” Jake laughed, “I wasn’t going to argue with her.”

Colby sat cross legged on the floor by the coffee table, pulling the little girl into his lap so she sat a little higher. “You can always wake me up, Ivy.” He told her, watching her draw.

“No get in trouble.” She mumbled, reaching for another crayon.

“I promise you’ll never get in trouble for waking me up.” He said, kissing the top of her head. “Where are the girls?”

“They’re picking up lunch. Kevin and some of the others are going to head over here soon, too.” Mike answered.

The next few days were a crazy hectic blur. Y/n and Mike had shared some of their half-written songs and lyric ideas with each other to get their creative juices flowing. Kat and Y/n filmed a “Singing on street corners” video and before they even posted their video, clips of them had practically gone viral. Each of the guys and a few of the girls all filmed group videos. Y/n was in most of them and Ivy was in a few too. And after an already long day, Colby still needed to film his video.

“uuuughh”, Colby groaned, staring blankly at the wall.

“You good?” Sam asked, his laptop out with research for their next series location on the screen.

“I have to film my video tonight and I have no idea what to film.” Colby replied.

“Film something that always bangs.” Sam said. “Let’s do a truth or strip.”

“Ahem.” Colby cleared his throat, pointing towards the little girl sleeping on the couch cushion next to him.

“Yeaaaaaah, let’s not.” Sam laughed. “Wait, do it the way Kat and I did! We put something on every time we didn’t want to answer a question.”

“Could do.” Colby said, thinking it over. “Just no swearing or sexual stuff.”

“Who would have thought Colby Brock would turn his channel PG.” Sam teased, going to set up the camera. “Go grab a bunch of hoodies and stuff. I’ll start writing down questions.”

“Aight, I’ll be back.” Colby replied. He stopped by the spare room to see if Y/n would ask the questions for the video.

“Of course.” y/n replied.

So far, the video was pretty funny. Even with keeping it fairly cleaner than Sam and Colby’s usual content. “Next question. Have either of you ever skinny dipped?” Y/n asked.

Sam and Colby looked at each other, Sam reaching out and grabbing another sweater.

“Brother, putting on another shirt is basically just saying yes.” Colby laughed, blushing a bit, “So yes. I have gone skinny dipping.”

“I think everyone should at least once.” Y/n added, saying “Next question” before either of the boys could say anything back. “Who are your YouTube crushes?”

“Katrina Stuart”, Sam smirked into the camera.

“Not fair.” Colby shoved Sam.

“I mean, Kat’s hot. I get it.” Y/n pointed out.

“Don’t I know it”, Sam made kissy faces at the camera.

“I’m keeping that whole thing in the video” Colby laughed. “Ignore me while I throw on ANOTHER friggen hoodie.”

“You cold?” they heard Ivy ask. She had woken up sometime during the last question. Colby finally popped his head through the hoodie and he made a face a her. She burst out in giggles.

“Are you laughing at me?” Colby asked, slowly creeping towards the little girl.

Sam stood up, taking the camera off the tripod. “I think she was.” He added.

“Nooooo” she squealed, backing up off of the couch.

“I think you were.” Colby said, wiggling his fingers towards her like he was going to tickle her.

She ran around the coffee table, uncontrollably laughing before trying to hide behind y/n’s legs.

“Oh no you don’t”, Colby crouched down on the other side of y/n, reaching around her legs and tickling Ivy.

“Hey, how did I get in the middle of this?” Y/n laughed.

“Moooom”, Ivy squealed between fits of laughter.

“Run Ivy!” Y/n pushed Colby off balance, so he fell back on his butt. The girl went to hide on the side of the couch.

“Not fair! I can barely move in all these hoodies!” Colby laughed laying on his back, pretending like he couldn’t get up. “Ivy, come help me!”

The girl peeked around the side of the couch. “I don’t know if I’d trust him.” Sam said, still filming the whole thing.

“I can’t get up!” Colby continued.

Ivy started slowly walking towards Colby, leaning over to see what he was doing. Colby laid there with his eyes closed not moving an inch. “Blue?” Ivy said, reaching down to poke him.

“Got you!” Colby half shouted, sitting up and pulling Ivy to his lap. He tickled her again, laughing quite a bit himself.

“You fibbed” she squealed out between laughs.

Colby chuckled and stopped tickling her. “I’m sorry”, he said, pulling her into a hug. He looked up at Sam and remembered they had been filming a video. “I think that’s all we’re going to get done for this one, guys” Colby laughed, addressing his audience. “Make sure to like and subscribe. Hit up all my social media pages. I’ll make sure to link Y/n and Sam down below so make sure you check them out too.” Colby looked down at Ivy. “Wave bye to the camera, Ivy”

“Byyyye” she waved, laughing when Colby tickled her again.

“Alright, guys. See you next week!” Colby waved to the camera.

“I am sweating to death” Sam said, starting to take the hoodies off.

“You think you’re sweating? I’ve got on twice as many, brother.” Colby whined, struggling to get them off of himself. “I’m going to shower and edit, so I probably won’t see you guys again tonight”, he said, looking up at Y/n.

“I have to be at Mike’s early tomorrow anyways” Y/n replied, looking at the time.

“You look nervous”, Colby chuckled, shedding the last of the hoodies.

“It’s always nerve-wracking working with someone new. I’m equal parts excited and nervous.” She explained.

“You’re going to do great.” Colby said, standing up and looking at her fondly. “Seriously. You write amazing music and your voice…come on. Your voice is killer.”

Y/n blushed. “Thank you. I think I needed that.” She said, turning to head to her bedroom. “Come on, Ivy!”

Ivy ran to Colby, reaching up for him to pick her up. “You have to get to bed, kiddo.” He said, picking her up.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Night, blue.”

Colby couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Goodnight, sweetheart”, he replied, putting her down so she could head to her mom. He was up editing for a few hours and when he checked the living room, all of the lights were off. He made sure the front door was locked and headed to bed.

“Ivy, you need to eat your breakfast so we can start our day.” Y/n quietly told her daughter for the 3rd time. Ivy laid her head down on the coffee table with her hand to her other cheek. “Aww, baby. Your teeth?” Y/n realized why her daughter had woken up in a mood.

Ivy nodded as a few tears fell down her cheeks. Y/n grabbed her ice pack and picked ivy up, cradling her in her arms with the ice pack against her cheek.

Colby was up the second he heard Ivy crying. He shot out of bed and hurried into the living room in just his sweatpants ready to tackle whatever made that little girl cry. “What’s going on?” he said, looking around until he saw the two girls on the couch. “What happened?” he asked, kneeling down in front of them.

“Nothing happened. I’m sorry she woke you up.” Y/n apologized, “She’s got a few more baby teeth coming in.”

“Stop apologizing”, Colby said, his voice still thick with sleep. He grabbed Ivy’s hand “I’m sorry you’re hurting.” Looking up at Y/n he asked, “Is there any medicine we can give her to help?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s in my room.” She answered, going to stand up.

“Here.” Colby said, putting his arms out for Ivy to come to him. “Why don’t you go grab the medicine and I’ll take this one.”

Ivy clung on to Colby, tucking her face in his neck. “Oooo your cheek is cold”, Colby laughed. “Do you want the ice?” he asked her, feeling her shake her head no.

“Here you go, baby.” Y/n walked into the kitchen to grab a spoon. “This will help you.” Ivy lifted her head to take her medicine and quickly tucked her face back in Colby’s neck. “This stuff always makes her so sleepy.”

“You’ll feel better soon.” Colby said, lightly bouncing her in his arms.

“I’ll go grab her a comfy outfit so she can sleep in her car-seat.” Y/n said, turning to head to her room.

“Y/n, you can just leave her here”, Colby suggested, continuing to bounce the little girl in his arms.

“I’m going to be gone all day, though.” Y/n replied, putting her hand on Ivy’s back.

“So? We can go back to bed for a while, I’ll make sure she gets something to eat in a little bit, and you won’t be stressing about her on your first writing day with Mike.” Colby reassured her.

Y/n thought about it. “Maybe I can come home for lunch.” She said, “I’d feel bad if you had to watch her all day.”

“Y/n, I don’t HAVE to do anything. I’m volunteering. And if you install her car-seat in my car, I can bring her to visit you guys if she’s feeling better when she wakes up.” He offered.

Y/n took in the scene in front of her. Colby was standing there shirtless, gently bouncing her daughter, rubbing soothing circles into her back. His hair was a mess and his eyes were closed as he mumbled little ‘you’re okays’ to Ivy. *I could get used to this* she thought to herself, finally warming up to the fact that maybe some people really do care. Not everyone wants something from you.  “You’re a hard man to argue with.” Y/n smiled up at him.

“Then don’t argue with me.” Colby smirked.

Y/n reached up and pressed a kiss to Colby’s cheek. “I’m going to go get dressed”, she said, looking down at Ivy. “And this one is already half asleep so you two are good to go back to bed.”

“Does she have like a blanket she likes or a stuffed animal or something?” He asked, following Y/n.

“She’s never liked stuffed animals, actually.” Y/n answered. “Here’s her little security blanket.”

"I’ll grab that, we’re going to go nap, and you have a great day.” Colby said, sleepily wandering back to his room. He left his door open so Y/n could stop by if she wanted to before she left. “Let go, sweetheart.” Colby whispered to Ivy, laying her down on his bed and handing her her little blanket. He made sure she was on the side that was against the wall so that she didn’t roll off. “Your mom said you didn’t like stuffed animals, but this guy here is special.” He said, grabbing his stuffed koala.

Ivy sniffled, little remnants of her crying finally fading. “Thank you”

“Get some sleep.” He said, crawling into bed “You’ll feel better soon.”

When Y/n finished getting ready about an hour later, she quietly tiptoed into Colby’s room. She immediately grabbed her phone, taking a picture of the precious sight before her. Colby was on his side and Ivy was the cutest little spoon you’ve ever seen. In her arms was the stuffed Koala and Colby’s arm was draped over both of them, snoring.

Over the next week or so, it became a habit that when Y/n would wake up early to go write with Mike, Ivy would just crawl into bed with Colby. He would wake up hours later to tiny cuddles. They’d get dressed, go sit at some restaurant for lunch, and then bring food to Mike and Y/n. In fact, Colby’s video this week was just vlog footage of him and Ivy. They had gone to the zoo, gotten ice cream or food a dozen times, and gone to the park to swing. Today, Brennen brought Kobe over to the apartment so Colby and him could film a video for Brennen’s channel.

“I never thought I’d think something was cuter than my dog, but damn.” Brennen laughed, watching Ivy and Kobe play fetch.

Colby laughed, reminding Ivy not to throw the toy in the kitchen. He didn’t want her to get hurt on the corners of the counter. “She’s something”, he said, hearing Ivy call out an “I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay, sweetheart. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Colby smiled.

“You’re in full dad mode, bro.” Brennen said, smirking over at one of his best friends.

Colby looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed together. “Am not.”

“My dude, it’s obvious you care about her. And you haven’t shut up about Y/n.” Brennen laughed, hitting Colby’s chest with the back of his hand. “You haven’t come out partying once since they got here.”

“First, y/n obviously doesn’t like me like that. She’s been here for 2 weeks and absolutely nothing has happened. No real flirting, no nothing. So, I can pine all I want, but I’m going to have to accept it when they leave.” Colby said, trying not to sound sad about that fact.

“I disagree”, Brennen tried to sneak in, but Colby continued talking, giving him a look.

“And second, I do care about Ivy.” Colby said, hearing her break out in a fit of laughter as Kobe licked her face. “I have this feeling that her dad was a dirtbag.”

“Yeah?” Brennen asked.

“Y/n would fight back tears the whole first week she was here whenever we were nice to her. Like, just our normal friends group level of nice.” Colby said, thinking back on how Y/n had reacted. “And Ivy apologized for everything. She accidentally spilled water on the coffee table and kept asking me if I was sure she wasn’t in trouble. Like, who the fuck would get mad over spilling water? Especially at their own daughter?”

“Have you talked to Y/n about it?” Bren asked.

“No. I kind of let her know I knew something was going on. That I was here. That she could talk to me whenever she was ready, I just…They don’t deserve that, dude. They deserve all the love in the world.” Colby continued watching Ivy and Kobe play.

“I gotta head out, but I’m going to say something to you first.” Brennen said, waiting for Colby to look at him. “I know you’re young. I know. #Brolby. We’re wild boys that like to have fun and do stupid shit so I know I’m not who you expected this to come from…but you’ve got a lot of love to give, brother. My dad didn’t give two shits about what happened to my siblings or my mom. It’s fucking obvious you care. A LOT. So don’t NOT take your chance because your palms get sweaty around your crush. There’s a lot more riding on this than whether or not a girl rejects you. No one’s going to love that little girl as much as you already do.”

Brennen stood up, putting his phone in his pocket and grabbing his camera. “Preciosa mío, come say bye to uncle Brennen.” He called out, picking Ivy up when she ran to him. “I promise I’ll bring Kobe back to play soon.” He kissed her on the cheek and put her down.

“Hey Ivy, if you go put on your jacket, we can go see mommy and Mike.” Colby stood up, following Brennen to the door.

Ivy ran to her room squealing about getting to play with more dogs.

“Brennen.” Colby said, pulling him into their usual bro hug when he turned around. When Brennen went to pull away, Colby held him tight for a second. “Thanks, man.”

Brennen clapped him on the back, “Anytime, brother.”

part 3...

[buckleyy--diazz]

Niall/Reader NSFW (Kinda, this is soft)

This was originally posted on 'Irishprinceniall', I am reposting here because I deleted this blog. Enjoy 1.5k of Niall being a tease. (For the people who also read my Narry fics, don't @ me, I know I ended one of my Narry fic the exact same way a while ago...oops!)

°•°•°•°

You had a very long day, a good friend moved in her new house and you had spent a few hours helping her clean everything, so she could finally install her new furniture. The night before you had barely slept and after spending hours cleaning the inside of cabinets you were finally home. All you wanted was food, a hot bath and cuddling with your boyfriend. You texted Niall asking if he was done in the studio and asked him if he could bring back your fave pizza on his way back. As you waited for him you prepared yourself a nice relaxing bath. You opened Spotify to find your relaxing bath playlist, lit up some candles and dropped one of your favourite bath bombs in the water. 

The water felt nice and your muscles were thanking you for finally giving them a rest. You were almost asleep when you heard Niall coming home. Slowly you rose from the bath, dried yourself and put on a tank top and one of Niall's old pairs of joggers. They were soft and Niall loved you in his clothes, even ratty joggers. You decided to let you hair in the messy bun you had done to take your bath and made your way downstairs to join Nial in the living room. You knew he would be there since you rarely used the dining room unless you had guests over. You slouched next to him on the couch, and pressed a sweet kiss to his scruffy cheek you liked so much. 

"I missed you," you murmured against his cheek before grabbing a slice of pizza. 

You took a bite of pizza and moaned, not realising how hungry you were before. Niall looked at you and smirked. You rolled your eyes and took another bite, moaning exaggeratedly loud this time. 

"Do you need some alone time with your pizza, babe? Do you want me to leave?" asked Niall, laughing at his own joke.

"Would you mind if I said yes?" you replied and Niall poked your thigh with his finger.

"I love you."

"I love you too," you said, keeping your eyes on the pizza, then you looked up at Niall, trying not to laugh you added, "oh you were talking to me."

"You're a little shit, you know that?" he asked and you nodded, trying to look serious but failing miserably when a grin appeared on your lips. You turned your head to the side and kissed Niall's cheek again. 

"Don't be jealous, you know I love you almost as much as I love pizza," you laughed when Niall pouted.

"I'll remember that."

You laughed and spent the rest of the dinner talking about your respective day and Niall told you his second album was officially finished and he would be free all summer. You were so happy about it. It never bothered you Niall had to travel a lot, you knew exactly what you were doing when you got into a relationship with him but the idea of having more than just a few days together was making you very happy.

Once you finished your pizza, you took the leftovers back in the kitchen while Niall was finding something to watch on Netflix. When you came back to the living room you smiled when you saw Niall had chosen John Wick, it was one of your favourites, and he was ready to press play. Niall opened his arms for you to join him on the couch. You lay next to him and he closed his arms around your shoulders, holding you tight against his chest. Your head was pillowed against his shoulder and your hand made its way under his t-shirt, tracing slow circles on his tummy and playing with his chest hair. 

It felt so great to be in Niall's arms and you slowly felt sleep creeping on you when Niall untied your hair to play with it for about thirty minutes into the movie. You loved having your hair played with but it always made you fall asleep fast. Niall noticed and he paused the movie.a

"C'mon, let's get you to bed love, we can finish the movie tomorrow if you want."

You nodded and let Niall help you get on your feet. Not letting go of your hand he lead you to your bedroom. Niall fluffed your pillow and helped you out of your sweatpants. You smiled sleepily, Niall was such an attentive boyfriend, you really didn't know how you had gotten so lucky. You took your place on the bed and watched Niall get undressed and made grabby hands toward him, making him chuckle. Niall climbed on the bed and he took you in his arms like he had done on the couch. His strong arms around you and your legs intertwined. You closed your eyes and sighed loudly. You felt so safe in Niall's arms, there was nowhere you liked to be most. Niall pressed a kiss to the side of your head and you giggled when his beard scratched your skin.

"I love you," he whispered directly against your ear, "I love you so so much. You make me happy," he kept whispering, his hand drawing circles on your back, "I don't think you know how happy you make me."

"I am so lucky to have you. You're so sweet and intelligent and pretty fit too" Niall added, "I've wanted you the first time I saw you, you're the one. I will always love you."

You loved when Niall was doing this, just whispering sweet things, sometimes he was singing until you fell asleep or if you were particularly stressed he would just remind you all the reasons why you didn't have to be. Always finding the right words to encourage you. Niall kept murmuring in your ear, his beard lightly scratching your cheek and you shivered. 

"You like that, don't you? My beard against your skin, against your neck and your chest when I kiss my way down," Niall whispered and it sent another shiver down your spine.

This had rapidly taken a turn you were not expecting at all but you nodded. 

"You like it against your stomach and on your thighs, between your thighs when I press kisses all over them." 

You swallowed thickly and rubbed your thighs together, a move Niall didn't miss. 

"You like this? You like it when I tell you everything I would do to you? I bet you're getting wet right now," he said and a small moan escaped your throat. You were definitely getting wet and feeling less and less sleepy. You wanted to turn your head and kiss Niall or push him on his back and have your way with him, riding him until your thighs burned but you also wanted him to keep whispering so you stayed still.

"If I slipped my fingers inside your underwear I'm sure I could easily push them inside of you, could I?" Niall asked and you nodded again. 

Niall had barely said anything but your breath was getting shallower and your clit was aching between your legs and you tried to rub them together again but Niall was faster than you and stop your leg by putting his hand on your thigh.  

"Maybe I should do just that. I don't know if you deserve it. You did say that you loved pizza more than me," he laughed.

"Please Niall," you begged because it was getting too much. You needed him now. You needed him to touch you.

"Please what?"

"Touch me," you replied, opening your legs wide, "I need it. Please." 

You tried to turn around in his arms, trying to rub yourself against his thigh but again Niall kept you still with his hand. 

"Not yet love, but I can keep telling you how much I want you," said Niall, rolling his hips against you, making you feel how hard he was already. "I want to taste you, I love the way you taste and all the sounds you make when you sit on my face." Niall let his fingers trailed up your thighs and you moaned again. 

"Or maybe I could pin your wrists above your head and fuck you until your begging me to let you come. So many possibilities, what do you think baby?"

"Please," you whined, "I need it, please."

Niall sighed and kissed your cheek. 

"You said you were tired babe. You had a long day, we should sleep and we can do that in the morning," Niall said.

You let out a frustrated sigh and pouted. 

"Don't pout baby, I know you enjoy this as much as me," Niall replied and you tried to glare at him but he only smirked in response. Niall was right, you did enjoy when he was working you up like that, edging you until you couldn't take it anymore, your orgasms were always more powerful. 

"Oh and don't try to slip your hand down your panties once I fall asleep because I will know if you do and then I'll have to punish you. Do you understand me?"

You nodded and closed your eyes waiting for Niall to close his eyes and fall asleep. It only took a few minutes and as soon as his breathing evened out you slipped you hand down your panties, already feeling the skin of your ass tingling with the promise of a good spanking.

[girls-scenarios]

Dates at Home with Loona

Prompt: Can you drabbles about how Loona would dates at home with their girlfriend ?

A/N: I forgot how hard it is to come up with things for 12 members- but anyway I hope you all enjoy! Also this ended up being super long so I put it under a read more (for all that that does) - Admin Kiwi

♡ Tip Jar♡

Haseul:

Haseul is kind of down for whatever you want

But she would enjoy dates at home

Especially if they involved cooking with you

Working hard to cook something delicious would be rewarding to her

And then getting to eat it with you over a candlelit dinner would make it even better

Especially if you were happy when you ate her food

The two of you would work together to wash the dishes and clean up

Although she would usually get distracted by the music she likes to play

Singing and dancing and splashing you until you laughed and joined in

Eventually, the night would draw to a close, usually quietly

Sometimes the two of you would watch a movie

But the two of you would usually do other things

She would like to play the guitar and sing to you

Because it made both of you feel at ease

And sometimes the two of you would chat over card games

Or a cup of tea while watching the stars

She’d like to tease you quietly, and you’d roll your eyes and tease her right back

She’d be the type to curl up into your side and rest her head on your shoulder

Content to spend the rest of the night in your arms, occasionally leaning up to kiss you

(And sometimes, she’d do just that)

Vivi:

Vivi is a very go-with-the-flow type of person

But she would really, really love to spend time with you at home

Especially once the two of you were dating for a while

She would like to cook with you

Although she would also love getting chicken delivered

She would chat quietly with you as the two of you ate

Telling you about her day and then listening to you with a smile as you talked about yours

She would also love, love, love to bake

Especially chocolate cakes or cakes of any kind

And usually the two of you would end up making and decorating a cake together to eat after dinner

A lot of times after dinner, the two of you would read together or do something separate in comfortable silence

Drinking tea and occasionally holding hands, just happy to be with each other

The two of you would usually then end the night by watching a movie

A huge movie buff, she would like to be able to talk to you about them afterwards

Excited to share her love of movies with you as the night drew to a close

She’d then kiss you goodbye with a gentle touch of her hand to your face

Saying “I love you” without actually saying it

Yves:

She would love hanging out with you at home

Quality time would mean a lot to her

Especially if it meant she got to try cooking some new, special, fancy recipe that her friends might not like

You’re a bit of a guinea pig for her recipes, but you get food out of it so it’s a win-win

She likes to drink wine or special drinks with you

And always lights candles on the table or puts flowers there

Because she’s a hopeless romantic at heart

(Even if she wont admit it)

A lot of times the two of you will drink after dinner and chat for a while

Sometimes out on balcony, or on the couch, or in the bedroom

Probably likes to get a little tipsy or drunk with you on some nights

Because she’s an adult and thinks it makes playing board games or watching bad movies a lot more fun

She definitely gets clingy to you as the night draws on

Kissing and cuddling up to you and even acting cute

(Again, she’d deny it if you ever told anyone)

A lot of times the two of you just end up spending the night

Because it’s nice and cozy together, and neither of you want to leave

And because a-few-drinks-in Yves makes it hard to leave regardless

Jinsoul:

At first, she would have to be in the mood for a home date

Just because she’d love going out with you so much

But after the two of you were dating for a while, she’d warm up to the idea

Finding that she loved just spending quiet, quality time with you

Although just how “quiet” these times are is... debatable

Because she talks. A lot.

Honestly she just loves hugging and cuddling and kissing

And home dates would give her the chance to do that all night without anyone complaining, so she’d love them

Sometimes you would end up looking over her shoulder as she showed you things she wanted to buy online

You’re 90% of her impulse control then

“Do you really need a cat banana opener?” “No, but it’s so cute!” “Please don’t buy that.”

Likes to end the night with reading or watching something with you while wrapped up in big, fuzzy blankets

Even during the summer

Cuddling up to you and whining for kisses every few minutes

It would be annoying if she wasn’t so cute, and if you didn’t know that it was just her way of showing that she loves you

Kim Lip:

She’d like dates at home just because she likes to chat with you

And what better place to do it than at home?

She’d also enjoy being able to just chill with you

Her hair up in a messy bun and dressed in comfy clothes with fuzzy socks

Not worried about anything and just happy to be with you

Eating would be a must

The two of you would probably just snack the entire time

Her favorite thing to order would be pizza

Until you got sick of it and demanded something else

Whatever the two of you did

Whether it be watch Disney movies (per her request)

Or play games or watch whatever weird YouTube videos she’s found

She would chat almost the whole time

Making jokes at the movie or trying to explain things or just talking

You would learn to love it, though, and wouldn’t even notice it after a while

Used to listening to her talk whenever she could

The two of you would usually end the night with a kiss goodbye

That is, unless one of you spend the night

Then the night wouldn’t end until much, much later

Chuu:

Dates at home would be rare with her

Because she just loves to be out adventuring with you

Or just out in general

She’s very hyper and full of energy

And she’d get kind of bored at home

However, she would like to play board and card games with you

Maybe over ice cream or a home-cooked meal

Especially if it’s after a long day of work

And she wouldn’t mind finishing up the night with a movie

Cuddled up against you and usually wrapped up in a blanket

Whispering jokes about the movie into your ear

Although she would usually fall asleep before the movie ends anyway

It becomes normal for you to wake her up with a little shake and a kiss on the cheek

“The movie’s over.” “Oh. I fell asleep again?”

It’s so cute that you can’t get annoyed at her

Especially not when she gives you a sleepy smile and a kiss

“I had fun tonight. Thanks for coming over.”

Heejin:

Surprisingly, although she’s hyper too, she would love at-home dates

Growing up in the countryside, she’d understand the value of just hanging out and chatting with someone

Watching out the window with you as the world went by

She’d like to do crafts or try new things when you came over, though

“Hey, I saw this video on how to make couples bracelets, want to try?”

Honestly, she always makes a huge mess

Especially when she wants to try to cook something new

But the outcome is always cute, and it’s fun to try things with her

So you don’t complain

She also might play the guitar for you and sing, if she’s been working on a cover for a new song

She always goes to you for your opinion first

The two of you usually end up cuddling and chatting

Snacking on whatever the two of you made that day as you tell each other about everything going on in your lives

Sometimes one of you will stay the night, sometimes not

But she always gives you a smile and a kiss at the end of the night, no matter what

A little token of her love for you

Hyunjin:

This girl is... kind of weird

One night, the two of you might have a normal dinner and chat

And then the next, she wants you to help her try and see if she can eat bread while standing on her head

She’s also not really one for home dates, unless it’s raining or snowing outside

If the weather’s bad, she’d like to grab a bunch of blankets

And sit near the heater with a cup of hot tea or cocoa

Wrapped up with you while the two of you watch the rain or snow outside

Chatting and making jokes in the warm cocoon of blankets

Otherwise, the two of you would usually end up eating some sort of dinner

(Usually takeout, she hates cooking most of the time)

And then playing games

She definitely has a mini table tennis set

She beats you every time, because she has too much energy

But she also sleeps early, so she kicks you out before it can get too late

“Goodnight, I need my beauty sleep.” “Well I love you too, Hyunjin.” “Hey! You know I love you! Are you dissing me? Wanna fight?”

This is why you usually go somewhere to tire her out before going home

Choerry:

Choerry is another one who wouldn’t really like at-home dates

She’s too bubbly and full of energy to stay stuck inside

So these dates would usually only happen after a day of work

Or a long week, where she might just want to rest

Even then, she would be full of energy

Asking you to watch a new YouTube video she found

Before chatting your ear off about her new interests

She hates sitting still and lazing around

So that’s is why these dates would usually happen at night

It’s the only time of the day where she wouldn’t mind sitting down and resting

The two of you would probably order takeout and chat late into the night

Probably looking out at the stars and trying to find constellations

Although she would just end up finding weird shapes to make you laugh

The two of you would eventually end up in the living room cuddled together

Either watching some weird anime movie that she’s recently found

Or just talking about things

Until she notices the time and tells you that you need to go home to sleep (even though you know that she wont be sleeping any time soon)

Go Won:

Although her favorite dates would be shopping, she would like dates at home too

Especially if you brought her flowers when you came over

(They always die quickly, she doesn’t know how to take care of them, but she likes the way they look on the table)

She always likes to talk to you

But it would depend on the day for what the two of you would do (other than talking, that is)

Sometimes she’d like to play video games, other times watch movies

You’d always be subjected to watching lots of Oh My Girl videos, though

“You haven’t seen this fancam yet, have you?” “I feel like you showed me this before.” “Oh well, let’s watch it again.”

She definitely has Dance Dance Revolution and LOVES to play it

Probably has embarrassing videos of you dancing on her phone

She has a very specific taste in movies

So she mostly just wants to watch the same ones over and over

The two of you play rock paper scissors to see who chooses the movie

Because you got tired of watching Hunger Games over and over

Usually at the end of the night, the two of you end up talking until some really late hour

Until one of you either has to go home, or spend the nigh

Olivia Hye:

If the two of you are at home, it’s video games

She loves playing video games, especially with you

Shoulders touching on the couch as she laughs

Amused by the way you’re playing the game

She’d tease you for losing but then immediately let you win

Or watching someone else play video games on YouTube while cuddling with you

Honestly, if you want to get her away from video games

You’re going to have to take her out of the house

Or distract her with food, any food will do

Acts like she wont share her food with you but does anyway

She would also enjoy just sitting with you after the games were done

Tangled together on the couch and talking about anything and everything

“Hey, do you think spiders have ears?” “Why are you asking me that?”

She’d usually end up falling asleep on your arm only to deny it later

“I was resting my eyes!”

She would try her best to stay up with you

Even if it made her a little grumpy

Still, it would be cute, and you wouldn’t mind letting her rest for a while before you had to go

Yeojin:

She’s a homebody at heart

So she would love dates where she doesn’t have to leave the house

Especially if she can just lay around in sweatpants

“Let’s just lay on my bed and chat.”

She would also like playing video games

And she seems like the type to fall down YouTube rabbit holes

Both of you watching videos for hours before you realize how far you’ve gone since the original video she wanted to show you

“Just one more video, I promise!”

But she would also be down for board and card games as well

Blanket forts would also be a thing

Because eventually she’d get tired of just laying around

And would want to do something with you

Also she saw it in a movie once and thinks it’s THE cutest thing to do

She’d also like painting your nails as the two of you hung out

Or painting her own nails, if you didn’t want any

She would usually be doing something with her hands, even while laying down and resting

Full of energy but also lazy at the same time?

It’s fine though you love her

[harley-quinnn]

Long Day

Jared Leto x Reader

{A/N} Hey puddin’s! Here’s another fanfic no one asked for, but I felt like delivering. I was having a rough day and of course, decided to see how Jared might comfort someone. So if you’re feeling sweet and fluffy, this one’s for you!

If you’ve requested something, have no fear, it’s on the way! <3

xo Harley

Warnings: Sweet fluff, a little bit of sadness. Also, this is totally friendly, no sexual/relationship aspects involved.

The lights dimmed and went out for the final time, leaving you feeling exhausted as you headed back down a long hallway and to a dressing room in the back of the venue you were playing. It was no easy feat, opening for Thirty Seconds to Mars, you had one hell of an act to keep up with. Though you were sure almost no one cared about you and your performance just before theirs, you put your all in every night- especially when he invited you back out on stage for the impromptu duets.

Your eyelids were heavier than normal, and your body felt weak as you mulled over just what life was dealing you at the moment. It wasn’t often that you had these “reality check” moments, but as it sunk in harder, you began to grow a bit emotional, despite the gratefulness that swelled within your chest. It felt like it had been years since you’d had a home cooked meal, and an even longer time since you’d seen your family. You missed the comforts of home, especially when it came time to go to sleep. A sudden twinge of sadness made itself known in your throat, and you noticed you’d been holding back tears for the duration of your trek.

When you arrived at your empty dressing room, you quickly closed the door behind you, kicking off your heels and tying your hair up into a messy bun atop your head. A tear rolled down your cheek without your permission, and you silently damned yourself for letting it slip as you flicked it away.

The feeling in your chest was growing heavier, burdening you with its presence. You absolutely loved what you did, but it was your first rodeo, and you absolutely were tired. You bit into your lower lip, pressing your palms into the edge of the vanity and staring into your own eyes through the light bulb lined mirror. You had maintained a perfect image for yourself, always carefree and happy. Always ready to entertain and relate to the masses. The girl who stared back, however, was weary- and honestly? Extremely homesick.

You hadn’t made many friends on tour. Between traveling, trying to find time to sleep and trying to find decent food to sustain your energy, there was no room to chit chat. You sighed, pulling away from the vanity and heading for the door. You just needed a friend, and though you had none at the moment, you hoped the one person who always seemed to brighten anyone’s day might have a little time for you off stage, too.

Before leaving, you slid into your fuzzy slippers and shrugged into your favorite hoodie. It was chilly once you began to come down from the adrenaline you felt on stage, and you were only wearing a crop top and shorts short enough to make anyone else blush.

A little nervous, but also a little desperate, you shuffled back out of your dressing room and headed for the room just a couple doors down. Once you stood before it, you contemplated knocking at all. Everyone else flooding the hallway to break down after the show was too busy to notice your odd appearance in front of another door. Wringing your hands together for a moment, a few strands of hair fell around your face as you turned to leave, and then stopped yourself again.

“Just knock,” you heard a voice say.

Caught off guard and cheeks burning red, you turned to catch a glance at who it was. Of course, it was Shannon Leto, hanging off of the door frame to his dressing room to study you as he spoke.

“He doesn’t bite. Usually,” and with that, he disappeared into the room and closed the door behind him.

You shrugged a bit to yourself and a minute of courage was all it took as you watched your hand rap on the door a few times. You immediately regretted it, drawing a breath between your teeth and scrunching your nose. A beat passed, and you decided to give it up. What was I thinking, anyway? You turned to leave before hearing the click of the door opening beside you, causing you to stop and turn back around to face the man you’d so confidently faced before every night on stage, Jared Leto.

“Hi,” was all you said, impishly lifting a hand to wave at him.

He eyed you curiously before a sleepy grin crossed his lips.

“Can I help you?” He asked lightly, clearly unsure of why you were there.

“Well.. I hope so,” you responded, your tone growing slightly rushed as you continued. “I kind of just need to talk to someone, and I don’t really know where else to turn, because my moms probably asleep in her time zone, and I don’t really have any-“

“Hey,” he interrupted quietly, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. “Come in.”

He opened the door wider and waved you in behind him as he stepped back into the privacy of his dressing room.

You noticed a rumpled blanket and his phone on the couch that sat in the corner, feeling bad that maybe you’d interrupted his own time to himself.

“Is this a bad time? I don’t want to bother you..” you said, closing the door behind you.

“No, no. I’m fine. But the look on your face tells me otherwise about you. What’s on your mind, darlin’?” He asked playfully then, a hint of a southern accent on the pet name. “I’ve never seen you so meek before.”

He lounged back on the couch, patting the seat beside himself and leaning his head back into the plush cushion with a deep breath. You moved to the couch then, sitting beside him. It was almost a bit humorous to you, that he noticed your larger than life personality on stage. You cracked a faint grin, cozying up into a small ball and wrapping your arms around your legs, resting your chin on your knees.

“Jared.. I’m tired. I miss home. And real food. And my cat,” you sighed, not wanting to bombard him with your thoughts and feelings despite that being your reason for sitting on his couch.

He chuckled a bit, his eyes closed. You didn’t want to admit it, but he sure looked gorgeous in such a relaxed state. He lifted his head and looked at you.

“That’s normal, trust me. I know it feels like you’re on a never ending rollercoaster.. This is definitely far from our first time out, and sometimes we still have to remind ourselves how lucky we are.”

“Really? You guys make it look so effortless, like there’s no place you’d rather be.”

He grinned again, eyes closing and head returning to its tilted back position against the couch as he waved a hand lightly.

“There isn’t. But sometimes you do miss your own bed.”

Breathing a laugh, you nodded.

“Oh yeah, I miss that too,” you said, pausing for a few moments as you got lost in thought. When you felt your eyes growing wetter, you realized it was too late to hold anything back now.

“But sometimes it’s so hard to keep smiling,” you whispered, not looking up anymore.

From your peripheral vision, you noticed his head perk up again. He shifted in place, arching a brow.

“You don’t have to be happy all the time, you know. Sometimes you can just.. feel.”

“All I do is feel, lately. It’s like I can’t turn it off. And every day is a new place and new faces… I know what I signed up for, I really do. I just didn’t realize the actual toll these things would take,” you sniffed, not daring to look up at him; not daring show the weakness you refused to let anyone see prior.

Jared sat up straight, leaning forward on his knees as he looked over at your guarded position beside him. Sure, you were there because you needed a venting session, but you didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to look like the big baby you felt like. With a straight face, you tried to keep your line of sight on the carpet, though you could feel your cheeks growing hotter and your eyes welling up.

“Don’t go hard on me now, babe,” he chuckled lightly and nudged your leg. “If you need to let go of everything, here’s the place and nows the time. No one else is going to be knocking at my door until it’s time to head out.”

He might as well have opened floodgates. Teardrops streaked down your still perfectly contoured cheeks as you buried your face in your curled up position. You sniffed, shaking your head.

“I just feel like such an ass for feeling this way,” you mewled. “I always said I never would, and now here I am, desperate for any sort of person to vent to… No offense- I just didn’t want to burden you with my minuscule issues.”

A soft chuckle escaped him as you felt a hand slide around your shoulders and pull you in close. He had moved closer, leaning his head against yours and rubbing your arm. There was nothing more than the innocence of comforting a friend between you, and it was a welcomed sensation as you leaned back against him and did what you always told yourself you should never do in front of anyone.

Cry.

“It’s not a minuscule issue. You went from nothing to everything overnight. This is to be expected, honestly… You know, when lobsters grow out of their shells, they’re very uncomfortable. But that’s just part of growth. You don’t look like a lobster, by the way. But you get me.”

He laughed again, and this time, a small giggle fell past your lips, too.

“I’ve heard that before. I just wish it could be easier. Being overwhelmed by the one thing I wanted the most feels shitty. I try not to complain.. There are a million other people who wish they could be in my shoes. But sometimes it’s just, hard.”

“You walk this path because you can handle it. We’ve all seen you in action. You’re a beast! You got this, {Y/N}. And when you get home you’ll appreciate your bed more. You won’t take a home cooked meal for granted,” he quipped.

“That’s true,” you sniffed again, taking his words to heart.

You’d always admired him, and hearing such kind statements from his mouth cheered you up more than you expected.

“Next time we’re in a city where I can actually cook on a real stove, I’m making you something. Anything. It might be a little burnt, but it’s better than cramming fries before passing out every night,” he nodded at you as your eyes met his.

“I didn’t know you knew that,” you said, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen your assistant running wild trying to get any kind of food in you before you’re out cold for the night.”

You laughed. It was true. You kept a hectic schedule on tour, like most everyone else, but slightly more irresponsible, and if you didn’t eat something during the day, you were irritable, or lightheaded and nauseated the next day.

“That salad you had last night was supposed to be mine. But I’m such a great guy, I let your assistant have it to give to you. Same with that vegan slice of pie last week.. and the açaí bowl before that…”

“What?! I’m sorry! I feel like I should be cooking you something instead now.”

You suddenly felt like a bit of a jerk. You had no idea he was sacrificing meals and snacks just to keep you in good health.

“We’ll make something together, how about that?” He said instead, rubbing your arm gently.

You cracked a genuine smile, already feeling a bit more comfortable and relaxed from your slight breakdown. You knew he was a nice person, but you truly didn’t realize that he had been taking care of you in little ways since you’d embarked on the tour.

“I’d really like that.”

He stretched his arms out wide with a big yawn then, indicating that it was time to get a move on and head back to gather your things and hit the road again. You stood up quickly, shuffling back into your fuzzy slippers and heading for the door.

“Thanks, Jared. For everything. I really mean it. You’re a great guy.”

Another sleepy grin crossed his lips, and he breathed a soft laugh that might not have been audible if you were breathing at the same time.

“I just take care of those whom I care for.”

Your hand reached for the doorknob as you turned to conceal your warm and fuzzy grin and make your exit; but something in you, maybe something crazy, made you stop when you opened the door.

“I.. don’t really want to sleep alone tonight,” you heard yourself say.

Unsure of just where that blunt honesty came from, you could already feel your cheeks burning hot.

“I- I didn’t mean that as in, ‘hey let’s bang,’ I just..” You trailed off, already embarrassed at your own slip up. I always ruin a perfectly fine moment.

He chuckled again, this time louder.

“I know what you’re saying. There’s definitely room in my bed on the bus- I got the room and they all got the bunks this time,” he mused, a cheeky grin placing itself on his features, as though he were proud of himself for taking the most comfortable sleeping quarters on the bus from the rest of them.

They were men, but they sure acted like boys sometimes. You giggled, shaking your head and playfully rolling your eyes.

“Mister nice guy, huh?” You joked, turning around to face him again.

“Oh yeah. Go get your stuff loaded in and I’ll just let them know to wait for you. I’m heading back out there now anyway, I’m exhausted, tonight was.. tres fou,” he said, the French making you giggle again.

But your face lit up like fireworks on the 4th at his acceptance, and you nodded quickly, turning back around and hurrying out of the door. After a beat, you popped back into his doorway, poking your head in with a small, warm grin.

“Thanks.”

-x-x-x-

“Welcome to Chateau Leto while we’re on the road,” he announced in a French accent as you stepped into his ‘room’ behind him.

It was small, just a bed and a window with some storage space around it, but it seemed like heaven on a night when all you wanted was to feel safe. You plopped onto the bed, kicking off your slippers and setting down a stuffed animal you unabashedly slept with despite not being a kid anymore. When Jared noticed, a confused grin washed over his countenance. He picked it up by the scruff and looked at it.

“I didn’t take you for a stuffed animal kind of girl.”

You pouted, crossing your arms in a mock huff as a few more strands of hair fell from your messy bun.

“He’s not a stuffed animal, he’s my best friend. Very well traveled, too, I’ll have you know,” you defended, your nose in the air before you fell into a small giggle fit.

He pretended to talk through it for a moment, sending you both into laughter. Once you smacked him with a nearby pillow playfully, he set it back down beside you.

“Okay, okay!” He surrendered.

Once you began to settle back down, you buried your face in the pillow, inhaling the scent. It must’ve been his; it smelled of cologne and yet his natural scent still remained. A small smile crossed your lips as you set it back down in its place, too.

He laid down on it then, crunching it up behind his head and staring at the ceiling. Your eyes raked over his frame, looking angelic as ever as he remained still; his tattooed chest rising and falling with each serene breath, his arm still behind his head with the pillow. He wore a pair of Gucci sweats and a t-shirt, you assumed only because you were there. Getting lost in thought, and still trying to come down from the last spikes of adrenaline, you continued to stare.

When the bus revved to a start, you quickly snapped out of it, coming back down to earth and grabbing your stuffed animal. You laid down then, the bus beginning to pull out from the venue to begin the journey to the next city. You didn’t want to think about what the next day would hold. You simply wanted to be, and feel, just like he’d mentioned. He made it look so easy. When you peeked back over at him, his eyes were already closed and you could tell he was already fast asleep.

Another grin danced on your lips as you carefully got a bit more comfortable, pulling a blanket over him gently and another over yourself.

“Good night, J,” you whispered, closing your eyes and drifting off into the deepest sleep you’d had since tour began.

[nnegan13]

I love your writing so much!! Could you write something about ele going to visit edo in nyc?

hi!! thank you for the prompt it was literally a lifesaver you have no idea!!!! i was in a seriously bad block and i was tinkering with this idea and it helped me get out so thank you thank you!!!

ao3 link is here

fic is under the cut. i do have to warn you: tumblr hates me and the format always gets fucked up on mobile, so that’s thing one. thing two, it’s been eons since i’ve written in-canon so forgive me if this feels rusty!! but enjoy ily all and thanks again for the prompt

WEDNESDAY 27 NOVEMBER 15:12 ROCKEFELLER CENTER, NEW YORK CITY 

“Is there a reason,” she starts, staring up at the Rockefeller Christmas tree with her eyebrows furrowed. It’s only November, albeit late November, but November, still, and it’s already up. She doesn’t understand. “That it’s so big? I don’t get it.” 

“Capitalism, an American need to assert their dominance even in their own cities, the overbearing nature of corporate Christianity?” Edoardo suggests, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, placing his chin atop her head and pulling her back into his chest. Eleonora tilts her head up to look at him as best she can from her position underneath his chin and he shifts as well so their eyes meet, if only barely. It makes her mouth twitch a little at a smile. “What?” 

“You’re feeling opinionated today.” 

“Spend four months around angry, liberal, college-aged Americans and you will, too,” he says, the corner of his mouth turning up. He presses a kiss to her upturned forehead before letting her tilt her head back down. “Do you still want to go ice skating?” 

“Maybe tomorrow? I’m still kind of wiped from my flight.” She doesn’t like asking him to postpone anything, they only have four days together, after all, and even if he’s coming home for Christmas in a few weeks, she still hates wasting any time she has with him. But, if she doesn’t find her way into a bed sometime soon, she might end up sprawled across the stairs of the Rockefeller Center, and that would not be a pretty sight. 

“Want to go take a little nap and then come back a do some shopping or get dinner?” He asks as she shifts around in his arms to face him. 

“Yes, I’d love that,” she agrees and kisses the content smile that grows on his face. Just as he starts opening his mouth, lets her get a taste of the hot chocolate they were drinking earlier, another idiotic reason for the Christmas tree pops into her mind. She pulls away, smiling a little as he pouts. “The need for men everywhere all the time to create phallic-centric symbols to inflate their own, tiny little egos?” 

For a moment, he furrows his brows, but then he purses his lips and gives her a look, a c’mon, really? look that has her holding back giggles. He knows she’s right. “Are you really thinking about the Rockefeller Christmas Tree while we’re kissing?” 

“I mean—” her tone is sly, she watches as he realizes what an opening he’s given her, and can’t help the satisfied grin that grows on her face, “—I probably wouldn’t be if—”

Against her mouth, he mutters, “Mm, don’t finish that sentence,” and she laughs.

— 

17:49 HOTEL, NEW YORK CITY 

When she wakes, it’s to find a very sleepy Edoardo still pressed against her—half on top of her, more like—and the sun set behind the curtains of their hotel room. Eleonora blinks, feeling more awake, now, than she did earlier, but still jet-lagged, and shifts her arm out from underneath Edoardo’s shoulder so she can play with his hair, slipping her fingers in between the curls and rubbing them between her fingertips. 

His face rests against the crook of her neck, nose pressed into her throat and jaw resting against her collarbones. His arm curls up underneath her, hand splayed against the back of her shoulder, and he’s wedged his bent knee between her legs. Her unoccupied hand drifts, tracing her fingertips across his bare shoulder before coming to the back of his neck, playing with the chain he’s always wearing. 

It’s got a little guitar charm on it, she knows, and it makes her smile. His mom gave it to him and he wears it to keep her close to him, Edoardo told her when she asked once. Eleonora hopes he’ll like the little addition she got him. 

He’s a heavy, warm weight pressed over her like a second blanket, but much more comforting than any blanket she’s ever owned. Having Edoardo away is hard, she knew it would be even for those few days they thought he would just be going to school in Milan, and him being in Ithica—on a completely different continent—sometimes makes it worse. 

Being with him again, she thinks as she turns to press her mouth against his forehead, is one of her favorite things. 

Something she’s done must’ve woken him up, though, because she feels his lips press into the hollow of her throat, feels his breathing change, and he shifts, rolling off her slightly to slip his other arm underneath her waist, hand drifting up her shirt to press warm against her spine. She arches her back just a little to make it easier, but then he rolls further onto his back and pulls her with him until their positions are flipped; Eleonora on top of him, now. 

Edoardo’s second hand slips under her shirt as her arms tighten around his shoulders reflexively and he takes the opportunity to pepper kiss after kiss against her neck. Eleonora smiles. “Good morning.” 

“Good evening, really,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest and against her skin, his mouth never far, and he presses a second kiss to the hollow of her throat. 

She bites her lip, goosebumps rising all over, as he continues lower and lower down her chest, between the folds of her button-up, making her skin heat and her heart beat a little faster. For a moment, she lets him tease his lips along her sternum, over the top of her breast, lets him elicit quiet noises from her mouth as he skims his teeth over her skin and traces his nails along her back, before drawing back as best she can, propping herself up against his chest. 

From beneath her, he smiles something lazy and pleased and sleepy that zings down her spine, blinking a little. “Have I told you yet that I’m really glad you came to visit me?” 

Trying to hide a smile, she purses her lips and pokes the tip of his nose. “Because now you have someone to make out with?” 

He scoffs, grinning a little as she shifts her fingers down to trace over his lips, and presses a kiss to her fingertips. Eyebrows raised, grin shifting into a teasing smirk, he says, “Exactly.” 

Eleonora shakes her head at him, her own brows inching up her forehead a little. “Mm, is that so?” 

Nodding, smirking just a little more as a small smile does break onto her face, he shifts them, pressing his back into the headboard and helping her climb into his lap. When she moves out from underneath the blanket, her decision to forgo pants as they slept becomes one she regrets, the cool air making her hiss. 

That is, until Edoardo pulls the blanket back around her waist, slips his hands up along her thighs until he can trace the edge of her underwear with his fingertips, and settles them there, warmth seeping from his palms into her skin. 

He’s probably colder, she decides, one hand resting on his bare stomach as the other cups his face, draws his mouth to hers. She kisses him once, twice, three times; chaste little things that make both of them smile, make his hands flex against her thighs, make her want just a little more. 

So she takes just a little more, lips parting against his as she licks into his mouth. 

A small gasp escapes her as one of his hands leaves her thigh to slip back underneath her shirt, splays against the small of her back, and pulls her closer to him. Smiling against his mouth, her hand drifts from his cheek back into his hair and when he groans as she tugs, it makes her smile again. 

“Ele,” he whispers against her lips, but doesn’t get much further than that. 

—

19:32 5TH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY 

“Come look at this one.” Eleonora swipes open the curtain to the dressing room, giving Edoardo a little smile as he pushes off the wall he was leaning on and joins her in the little cubicle. 

After an hour or so, she finally managed to tamp down her own needs long enough to remind him that he didn’t bring her to New York City just to leave hickeys on her neck, her stomach, the back of her thighs—they could do that in Ithica, for fuck’s sake—and the pout he gave her from between her legs was almost enough to change her mind. 

If she told Eva—or any of the girls, for that matter—that she interrupted Edoardo as he was about to go down on her to go shopping of all things, she’d never hear the end of it, so she decides that that’s one thing from the trip they will not be hearing about. They won’t be hearing about the two other times he went down on her earlier, either, but that’s their loss for being so predictable. 

And her secret to think about when him being gone gets a little—difficult. 

This dress, however, she might tell the girls about. 

It’s a dark forest green, floor length, and gives her curves she’s only ever dreamed about. The straps are thin, the neckline daringly low for her personal tastes, and the back scooping. She’s slipped off her bra so it doesn’t look awkward, pulled half her hair back into a bun, and debated over and over in her head if she even wants Edoardo seeing her in this. To say her clothing choices were conservative—high necklines, tights under her shorts, always wearing something with sleeves—would not be untruthful, and to say Edoardo’s never seen her in something as revealing as this dress, long though it may be and naked he has seen her, would also not be a lie. 

It makes her nervous, in sum. 

He smiles, though, standing behind her shoulder so they can both study her in the mirror, and brushes her hair behind her ear, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He whispers, “You look beautiful,” and it makes her smile in turn. 

“Do you like it?” She asks, turning around to look at him, twisting her fingers into the soft material of his sweater. 

He nods, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. “Yeah. Do you like it?” 

She considers, studying his face and pressing her lips together. Dresses have never been her favorite, neither have skirts, they remind her a little too much of being at her old school, doing things to catch her ex-boyfriend’s attention, the way his hands would wander too far, the different clubs they’d wind up at, that very last night together. Donating all her skirts and dresses during the clothing drive was probably too cathartic to be normal, but looking into her closet and not seeing a single thing she wore just because her ex liked it is something she really, really enjoys. 

This dress she thinks she could like.

When Eleonora pulled it off the rack, the color had caught her eye, drawn her in, made her go back on her personal promise to forgo anything that wasn’t a pair of pants and a shirt. The cut, the sudden expanse of skin, the attention it gives to the lines of her body are all things she’s avoided for one reason or another—is she thin enough, is she too thin, does this make her ex look her way, does this make the rumors at school true, will it make them worse—and this dress—though beautiful it does make her feel—brings her worries back to the forefront of her mind. 

Does she like the dress? 

“I’m not really sure,” she says, tilting her head to the side and watching the pensive expression form on his face. “I think it’s pretty and I feel pretty in it, but I don’t know if it’s something I would wear.” 

He nods, agreeing with her, and raises his eyebrows. “Could I bring you something I saw that I think you’ll like?” 

“Okay.” He could be walking her into a disaster or something wholly wonderful, and the little smile that quirks onto his lips when she agrees makes her glad she did so; disaster or not, seeing him happy is worth it. 

Once he kisses her and disappears out back into the store, Eleonora pulls the curtain shut again and studies her reflection. She hadn’t checked the price tag, maybe that would be more helpful with her decision…

Edoardo returns a few minutes later, looking very smug as she pulls the curtain open again and lets him into the dressing room. He’s got a few hangers in his hands and when she rifles through them, she realizes he’s brought her—

“A suit?” 

He shrugs, that smug grin not leaving his face. “It could be fun.” 

They end up getting the suit. 

— 

22:46 TERRACE, DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN 

In her coat pocket, a little box sits and she fumbles with it when she sticks her freezing hand inside. Edoardo’s disappeared back into the building to grab hot chocolate from the little stand he spotted inside on their way to the terrace, and Eleonora wanders over to the edge of the balcony, leaning against the concrete railing and staring out at the blinking lights of the city. New York, the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps. It’s beautiful, no questions there, but there’s something she misses about Rome, even if it’s only been a day since she left. 

But, for the time being, New York has Edoardo, which is something Rome can’t beat. 

He returns a few minutes later and pulls her close to him as they sip at their cups and chat quietly about Ithica, his classes, her classes, what she’s been doing with her friends, the radio episodes she wrote that she’s been sending him at his request, how Filippo is, how his friends are, and all the while her chest fills with the need to be near him, even though she already is. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, returning from throwing their empty cups away, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her close again. 

Leaning up to press her forehead to his, she says, hoping her voice isn’t too shaky, “Home, you being here, things like that.” 

A soft kiss to her cheek. “I missed you everyday.” 

She looks at him, studies the deep brown of his eyes, the crinkles at the corners even with his somber tone. It’s nice to know he enjoys the bittersweetness of their situation like she does; sometimes when she lets herself think about it long enough, having him gone is a personal form of hell, but seeing him again is something heaven-sent. 

It feels like coming home. 

“I have something for you.” It’s whispered so low she thinks her words are captured in the wind, but he squeezes her waist and waits, silent, as she pulls the box from her pocket. She wiggles the lid off, staring at the little charm inside for a moment or two before looking up at him. “It’s for your necklace. I figured, while you were here—or, in Ithica, really—it might be nice to have a reminder, or something—” she swallows, “—of me.”

Lips parted, eyes wide, face open, he’s staring at the charm like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen, and turns his gaze to her. It doesn’t change. Her heart beats a little faster. “Ele, I am always thinking of you.” 

She laughs, thick with tears building up behind her eyes, and kisses him once. The plan had been to give the charm to him on her last day, but she couldn’t help herself, she needed him to know that she wants to be on his mind, even if it’s just for a moment here and there and even if it’s selfish of her. 

When she pulls back, Edoardo smiles at her, bright enough to light up all of Manhattan, and it only makes her want to kiss him again, tell him more of the feelings curled in her chest, let him know that she’s always thinking of him, too, but he speaks first. “Thank you, Ele, I—I’m glad I can keep you close when you’re not with me.” 

It feels like her smile might split her face in two. 

They maneuver around, pulling off gloves and holding the box and unclasping his necklace, and with careful fingers she slides the charm onto the chain. 

When she was looking for one, Eleonora tried to stick with charms of a similar style to the one already on his necklace, and she thinks she succeeded. It’s silver to match and rectangular as well, a raised silver flower, simple like a child’s drawing, with an emerald green background. It’s proportional to his mother’s charm and when he puts the necklace back on, her heart flutters a little. 

“It looks good,” she tells him in lieu of saying something that might have her crying again. 

“Yeah?” He draws her close, lips twitching into a smile. 

She leans up to kiss him again, revel in the fact that she can be near him. “Yeah.” 

— 

SUNDAY 1 DECEMBER 19:04 SAVA’S APARTMENT, ROME 

“Ele,” Eva calls from Eleonora’s bedroom. Eleonora finishes shoving her dirty laundry into the washing machine, trying to ignore the tired flutter of her eyes, the exhausted pounding of her head. It was a long flight back home, and not as enjoyable as the one to New York. After all, she left Edoardo this time and going home to her friends who she’s seen everyday for the past three months is not as exciting as flying to see her boyfriend who’s been living in another country. 

She gets to go to sleep soon, Filippo promised her he wouldn’t be too loud, and she’s looking forward to being back in her own bed. The fact that she’ll be sleeping alone? Not so much. 

The rest of the trip passed in a blur of sight-seeing and food-eating and souvenir-buying (mostly on Edoardo’s part) and long mornings spent in their bed doing things she already scolded him once for. If she couldn’t find it in herself to complain about the feel of his hands against her skin, his mouth finding its way to the places on her body he knows makes her louder than usual, how it feels to hook her legs around his hips, waist, shoulders, as much as she did that first day, well then that was Eleonora’s moral quandary to have. 

And the questions; even eight months into their relationship, Edoardo was still determined to become an expert on all things Eleonora Sava, and in turn she became an expert on him. 

It’s another of her favorite things. 

When he took her to the airport, he kissed her long and hard and slow before sending her off, winking as she went, and she had several texts waiting for her after she got through security, all questions about something new or something she’d said or something he remembered them talking about days previously, and the last was a picture she set as her wallpaper: a selfie of a distracted Edoardo, chain of his necklace held between his lips, her charm just off-center against his mouth, the yellow glow from the streetlights shining through his hair and casting a warm light against his skin. 

“Ele, I thought you said you only got the suit from that store?” 

“I did.” Eleonora frowns, padding her way from the kitchen into her room to see what Eva was talking about. The suit Eva’s hung up in her closet, but sitting in her suitcase in a see-through, plastic dress bag is the green dress she tried on. She smiles a little, pulling it out for Eva to see and lets her friend pull it from her hands to gush over better. 

19:07, message to Edo 💜Did you buy that dress and put it in my suitcase? 

It doesn’t take long for him to respond, her phone buzzing in her hand and his contact picture flooding her screen. She answers, trying to keep the smile from her voice. “Hey.” 

“Hi. Good flight?” He asks, voice scratchy and rough. It makes the hair on her arms raise, a shiver run down her spine, and she starts wandering out of the room. No need to give Eva anything to tease her about. 

“Did you just wake up?” 

“Maybe.” There’s rustling on the other line and Eleonora can imagine him laying in his bed, curtains drawn, one arm wrapped around his pillow, sheet pull haphazardly over his chest, the hickey she may or may not have left Saturday night bright red against his ribs. The thought makes her smile and she bites her lip. “Good flight?” 

“Yeah,” she says, leaning against the wall just outside her bedroom door. The slick sound of plastic running against fabric reaches her ears; Eva must’ve pulled the bag off the dress. She hopes her voice stays casual. “I got home a few minutes ago, found something extra in my suitcase, though.” 

“Mm, good.” He’s grinning now, she can tell. “I was worried I forgot to put it in or something when you hadn’t said anything.” 

“When did you get it?” She can’t remember being very far from him the entire trip, the longest she can think of is when he’d grab them hot chocolate or coffee or when one of them would slip off to the restroom. 

“When you were looking at the lipsticks and I was getting everything,” he says. “You seemed a little preoccupied so it was pretty easy to go back to the dressing room and grab it.” 

She blushes, remembering the several minutes she spent looking through that particular store’s lipstick selection. She didn’t need any new ones, but it’s always fun to look. And apparently a good time for boyfriends to buy dresses in secret. In her stomach, her worry begins to rise and she can’t find it in herself to beat it down. “Sneaky.” 

“I still think you should’ve gotten that red one.” 

“They were all red.” 

He chuckles and even over the phone it makes her chest warm. “You know, it was like a really dark red, but not purple-y. A really solid dark red.” 

“I already have one of those.” The fact that she knows exactly which one he’s talking about is a little concerning, but it’s the one she was testing on the back of her hand when he came back with her suit—and dress, apparently—tucked neatly in a bag, the one he liked the best even after she tested six or seven others. “And I think you need to work on expanding your vocabulary, or at least checking the labels on stuff.” 

“Can’t, my brain won’t compute anything besides economics and the principles of finance.” His voice sounds muffled, like he burrowed his face further into his pillow. 

“But it can plan to buy a dress for me in secret?” It’s itching under her skin to know why, to know if he bought it in the hopes that she’d wear it for him, because it’s cut a little more racy, because it shows so much skin, shows her figure, gives her a shape—

“You said you felt pretty in it,” he mumbles, a little hint of embarrassment coloring his tone. It’s only ever over the phone that she hears him become self-conscious and it always makes her smile. Now, it brings a sweet relief. “So I thought it’d be nice if you had it, even if you only ever wore it when you were alone.” 

For a moment, she says nothing, just listening to the gentle sound of his breathing on the other line and letting her stomach calm down. Biting her lip, she asks, “Edoardo Incanti, has anyone ever told you how nice of a guy you are?” 

“Only when they’re going to drag me.” 

Eleonora laughs loud enough that Eva pokes her head out into the hallway, an eyebrow raised, the hanger for the dress slung behind her neck and the dress itself, still hanging on the hanger, draped down her front. “What’s so funny?” 

Eleonora can’t stop laughing. 

If, once Eva leaves and she finishes unpacking her suitcase, Eleonora pulls on the dress, lays on her bed, and traces her finger along the edge of the red mark on her sternum that barely sticks out of the neckline, then that’s another secret she’ll keep to herself. 

[nevervalentines]

13 Supercorp

#13, supercorp 

“following the kiss with a series of kisses down the neck“

Lena gave her the key weeks ago. She’d folded it into Kara’s hand casually, like it didn’t mean anything at all.

“Just in case you get home before I do,” she’d said, blasé. She turned away then, so Kara couldn’t see her face, but she caught the pinking of Lena’s ears anyway. “It’s not a big deal.”

Kara let her lie. Sometimes the best way to put Lena at ease is to let her believe she’s fooling anyone.

(She’d caught Lena up in a kiss regardless, cupping at her jaw, reverent. Cradled the key gentle in her palm, careful not to crush the metal in her hand as Lena tangled both hands in the hem of her shirt.)

But here, now, the act of fitting the key into the lock of Lena’s apartment door is still a quiet thrill of delight, like finding leftover Chinese food in the fridge, or the moment of weightless tension before flight. She pushes open the door slowly, mindful not use her super-hearing to determine if Lena is inside.

“No cheating,” Lena tells her some nights, cupping both palms over Kara’s ears until the world muffles into a conch-shell echo. “Be here with me, Supergirl.”

Kara flicks on the light, and immediately smothers her smile behind her hand. She doesn’t need superpowers to find Lena: she’s in plain view of the parted doorway, surfacing from the couch in a disgruntled daze. Her cheek is creased with the seam of the plush cushions, and her once sleek up-do is a mess of wispy baby hairs and mussed curls.

She blinks into the sudden light, leveling a kittenish glare at Kara on the threshold. “Too bright,” she says, her words sleep-slurred, fist rising to rub hard at her eyes. “Turn it off.”

Kara grins, steps closer, closing the door behind her. “Nuh-uh, sleepy. You have an evening of mandated activities ahead of you.” She sets her armful of bags on the kitchen counter, careful to slip her key back into her pocket before she moves toward the couch. “Or did you forget?”

Lena collapses backward, burrowing into the cushions, pulling a balled-up fleece throw over her face. “Ten more minutes.”

Though Kara only turned on the foyer lights, the open floorplan of the vast penthouse apartment means the light bleeds into the living-room-turned-working-office. It laps gentle at the lip of the couch, shadows rippling off the coffee table, the crook of Lena’s bent knee, like a receding tide. The skyline of National City swallows the wall-to-wall windows, and a pearly dusk diffuses the unlit portions of the apartment into a syrupy liminality.

The couch is an island of calm in a near-fatal explosion of scattered papers, stacks of thick cream-colored manila folders, and textbooks—their spines cracked into an open yawn of diagrams and text. There’s a small pile of dirty mugs and plates at the foot of the coffee table, and a heaping mass of laundry threatens to drown an armchair in blouses and an excess of lacy, unfolded lingerie.

It’s a mess. Kara likes to tease Lena about it sometimes, her absolute domestic disrepair, occasionally verging on slovenly the day before the cleaning crew comes. Lena’s response is always to drape herself over Kara in dramatic repose—“I’m a genius, Kara. What do you expect?”

Kara props herself at the foot of the couch, lifting Lena’s legs into her lap. Lena settles against her automatically, tugging the blanket down to reveal her eyes. “Can I nap now?”

Kara pinches at Lena’s calf over the soft cotton of her L Corp branded sweatpants, soothes it with a stroke of her fingers. “Nope.” She lets her lips pop over the syllable, rubbing her thumb against the jut of Lena’s knee. “You aren’t getting out of it that easy.”

Lena sits up onto her forearms, letting the blanket fall to her lap. She’s pouting, lower lip pooched, eyebrows creased together. “Today’s my first day off in weeks.”

“Exactly.” Kara shuffles Lena’s legs to the side and wiggles her way up the couch, stopping when she is lying half on-top of Lena, chest to chest, her feet dangling off the couch. “And I let you have all day to nap. But now we’re gonna hang lights, and bake cookies and then, and only then, I’m taking you to bed.”

Lena’s face immediately sharpens with interest. She arches into Kara, mouth turning coy, lips pinching to the side. “Oh yeah?”

Kara leans closer until the tips of their noses touch. She runs a hand along Lena’s ribs, feeling the plush-soft of her skin, the rise-fall of her inhale-exhale. She can almost taste Lena’s breath, can smell the memory of her perfume. “Yeah.”

She ducks her head to nip a kiss at Lena’s chin, the hard line of her jaw, the soft skin under her ear. Lena fists a hand in Kara’s hair, groans. “Can we skip the rest of the nonsense?” She rolls her hips once, experimental. “I’m ready to go to bed now.”

Kara pauses for a moment, as though considering, before she grins, all wicked and teeth. She bounces off the couch, sudden. “Nope. Lights first.”

The blanket falls to the floor as Lena rolls into the back of the couch, spewing an expletive against the fabric. She only surfaces to throw a glare over her shoulder. “Tease.”

Kara, back at the kitchen counter, fishes a tangle of fairy lights out of the open mouth of a plastic bag. She straightens her shirt, smiles. “Yeah, but you love it.”

“I hate it.” Lena sits up, rumpled and flushed. “You’re lucky I like you.”

That’s a new development, these open admittances, and Kara is careful not to draw attention to it—she just grins, Cheshire pleased. “I know I am.” She holds up the tangle of lights. “Now come help. Let’s put your brilliant engineering brain to work.”

Lena’s lips curl, haughty. “I can’t even begin to express how graduated I am from Christmas lights, Kara.” She’s all venom, but Kara notices she gets up to help anyway, pulling her hair out of her bun and letting it fall in waves. She runs her fingers through it as she crosses the room, smoothing tangles. Kara tears her eyes away before she forgets her own ultimatum.

“We’re gonna string them around the room. Try to give your apartment some semblance of holiday cheer.”

Lena glares. “You know I hate the holidays.” She leans both elbows on the counter, content to watch Kara wrestle the tangles. “It’s all commercial nonsense. Completely inconsequential.”

“I think your traditions are fun,” Kara says. She glares at the stringed lights.  It’s possible she’s making the knots worse. “Human worship is so interesting.”

“It’s just pointless repetition,” Lena says. She reaches over, absent, takes the lights from Kara’s hands, begins to unwind them. “Purposeless.”

“There’s always purpose to celebration,” Kara says. She cups her chin in her palm, watches Lena’s hands, half-way to mesmerized, her long, slim fingers passing the strands over-under-over-under, brow furrowing as she works. “It brings us together.”

Lena looks up, arches an eyebrow. Amused. “You’re such a sap.”

Kara straightens, defensive. “And you’re a pessimist.”

“Obviously.” Lena hands her the lights, untangled, wound into neat coils. “Also I think the cold weather makes Euripides upset.” She gestures to the far end of the room where the dark, sleek cat is coiled on top of the bookshelf. He turns apathetically from their gaze, licks at a paw. Goes back to sleep.

Kara feels suddenly and hopelessly fond. It bites into her keenly, a physical ache under her collarbone. “Lena, your cat doesn’t have seasonal depression.”

Lena sniffs. “How can anyone really say?”

Kara discards the lights on the counter, side-stepping closer until she can wind an arm around Lena’s waist. Her sweatshirt is riding up, and she strokes two fingers along the exposed skin, curls her hand across Lena’s stomach, dips into the indent of her navel.

Distracted by the excess of plastic bags on the counter, Lena pays her little mind. She fishes through a heap of baking items, wrinkling her nose. “Kara, why are there like four cans of whipped cream in here.”

Kara looks away, guilty. “No reason.” She moves behind her, frames Lena’s waist with both hands, dips her head to leave a kiss at the valley between Lena’s shoulder blades, mouths a brief love-letter against the nape of her neck.

Lena turns in her arms. “Why is it so important I feel your non-denominational holiday cheer?”

“I’m just trying to celebrate with you,” Kara says. She’s barely hearing her own words, desperately distracted now. Heat drops low in the pit of her stomach. Lena’s looking up at her through veiled lashes, all dark-brow and perfect pout. There’s a smudge of lipstick on her bottom lip, and Kara finds herself utterly lost in her study of the dimpled bow of her lip, the hint of tongue caught between teeth. Kara loses her resolve—ducks in for a kiss, pulls back to whisper: “We really should bake those cookies.”

Lena arches to tiptoe, catches her mouth in full, licking into her eagerly, impatient. Their foreheads knock and Lena winds her arms around Kara’s neck, nips hard at her lip. Kara surrenders, boosting her to the counter top, sweeping the lights aside. Lena pulls back, gasping a laugh. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and she brackets Kara’s hips with her legs, nudging her closer with the heels of her bare feet.

“Who needs cookies when we have all of that whipped cream?”

Kara kisses into Lena’s smile, trails her lips to the corner of Lena’s lips, her jaw, the divot of her throat. She murmurs into the crook of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter beneath her tongue. “I just want you to like the holidays.”

She drops slowly to her knees, scratches her fingers along the outside of Lena’s thighs, tugging down her sweatpants as she goes. Lena chokes on her laugh, tangles a hand in Kara’s hair.

“Oh God,” Lena gasps. She slumps lower, splays her free hand over her eyes. “Trust me, I’m starting to.”

On the ground, the lights tangle in a forgotten heap. Lena knocks a box of baking powder to the floor, then a bag of flour. It bursts open, coating the kitchen floor in a light snow-fall of silky granules. Kara pulls back for a moment, regards the white dusting on the hardwood. 

She shrugs. “Close enough.”

“Kara for the love of God—”

Kara’s mouth meets skin. Lena stops talking. They’ll get around to decorating later.

[outlanderfandomproject]

Barks and Glances

Fic collab by @kkruml​, @smoakingwaffles​ and @whiskynottea 

Hey guys, @whiskynottea  Pongo here, bringing you the fourth chapter of Barks and Glances! Woof (enjoy)!

Previously Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

poster by @smoakingwaffles

Chapter 4. A home for four (by @whiskynottea)

(Ahhh let me stretch for a while… I've spent the last thirty minutes sitting by the window with my beautiful Perdita, looking at the passers-by. But a dog has to move once in a while, you know.

Okay, I’m ready to start now.)

Hey guys! It’s Pongo again!

Did you miss me?

Oh, come on, confess it. You did miss me.

It’s okay, you know, because I missed you, too!

I have so many news to share with you, that you better sink into a couch and make yourself a cuppa. Is this what you humans call it? I think so.

Coffee, tea, or a whisky - drink whatever you like. I would personally go with milk, in case you have some to spare.

Ready?

Okay, let me take this from the very beginning…

After my ingenious idea to drag Jamie to the park earlier than usual so he would meet Claire, these two goobers couldn’t take their eyes off each other.

And let me tell you all it took me was a minute (okay maybe two) to charm my beautiful Perdita. She couldn’t resist to this adorable, wet, chocolate lab, you see.

Anyway.

Jamie brought Claire and Perdy back to our house - which was a world’s first - and he made Claire tea while she waited for her clothes to dry. The clothes never dried, however, so both lasses left our place with the promise to meet again. Maybe my charm - and Jamie’s - played a role on this decision as well, but the clothes were the perfect excuse.

And now, between you and me, I have to admit that I hadn’t thought of getting them all wet in the pond beforehand. But it turned out pretty well, don’t you think?

Jamie started whistling the day he met Claire. I’ve never heard such a sound before, but his tuneless, poor imitation of a birdsong didn’t seem to dishearten him. Next thing, he got obsessed with his phone. He never let it far from his gaze and he texted like a maniac. As a result, he had banged his toes onto every furniture in our house, waking me up more than once with his boisterous shouts and swears. The man has a loud voice! The same voice, however, transformed into a smooth, deep and low one when Jamie was on the phone with Claire. It was the first time I heard him murmuring sweet nothings to the wee machine, with his cheeks and neck blooming red.

My ginger human was very much in love with Perdy’s curly one, and luckily the Sassenach, as he called her, returned his feelings.

After that first day, I met my beautiful blondie every day at the park. Our walk schedule became irregular after meeting them, and if it wasn’t for Perdy I would protest, barking loudly to wake everybody up when Jamie woke me up at six o’clock in the morning to go for a walk.

More than once.

Claire and Perdy, you see, didn’t have standard hours for their walks because of Claire’s shifts and we - lovesick puppies as we were - just followed their schedule.

It took approximately one month of sleepy walks for Jamie to realize that Claire was the human of his life and that there was no reason to wait anymore. The truth was loud and clear from the very beginning; she was his and he was hers. So he decided to put a collar on her. Humans don’t wear their collars on the neck - the choose tiny ones and they wear them on their fingers. They are strange creatures, indeed.  

In front of the same pond I bound them together that first day, Jamie proposed to her. Claire said yes, jumping on him and taking him off guard, only to end up in the pond once again. This time though, they were kissing.

And kissing.

And kissing.

And I honestly thought we would never go home.

But, eventually, they stopped.

So we had a wedding.

The bride was the most beautiful lass I’ve ever seen. Her golden fur was shining under the sun, each hair glittering like it was made from little diamonds and -

Wait, what? You’re more interested in Claire?

Perdy was wonderful but since you insist… Claire looked nice, too. Okay, I’m lying. You got me!

Claire was captivating.

She wore a simple white dress and had tiny flowers pinned in her hair. Don’t ask me for more details, I’m just a dog, I don’t care about fashion. But I think it was a miracle that Jamie’s eyes didn’t pop out and fall on the floor, being so wide open when he first saw her. One would imagine that he was staring at a gigantic stake or a bucket of pasta, but no. It was just Claire.

At this moment I thought that Claire might be a fairy - and Jamie was enchanted by her. Judging from the foolish way he smiled as she was coming closer, he was absolutely fine with it.

And like this, two lonely bachelors became two family men - okay a man and a dog - starting their new lives.

Everything changed from the moment Perdy and Claire moved to our house.

Remember what I told you about Jamie’s paints and drawings, strewn all around our living room? Well, you can forget that now. Jamie has moved all his stuff in the attic, where he spends almost all day, preparing for his exhibition. With every passing day, Jamie becomes even more anxious about it. The drumming of his fingers against his thigh almost never stops, unless Claire takes his fingers in hers and kisses him softly. She does her magic then, I’m sure, because Jamie smiles again, looking peaceful and relaxed. With renewed vigor, he heads back to the attic.

This is exactly where he is right now.

Claire came back home about an hour ago and now I can hear her in the kitchen, humming along with the cabinets’ opening and closing, as she prepares tea. She is filling the kettle with water and now… yes. She’s going to the attic to bring Jamie down. Good, because we always get to play when it’s tea time!

Apart from the days when he comes. He calls Jamie’s name with an accent similar to Claire’s, but his voice is slimy, dripping and disgusting.

The Duke of Sandringham.

He has an air of superiority around him, wearing his expensive clothes and having his own driver waiting outside our house for as long as each visit lasts. He walks around our small house, fidgeting with our things and all I want to do is to bark his ears off until he vanishes completely from our lives. But I try my best and keep myself under control. Being a good boy is so hard.

The Duke always comes around tea time, orders Claire to make his tea as if she’s working for him, and once the tea is ready he goes straight up to the attic to find Jamie. They close the door and he values Jamie’s art while Claire digs a trail on the carpet with her feet, waiting. I know she’d swear if she could, but Jamie asked from all of us to be patient. He says the Duke is just weird.

I think he is an arsehole.

There is something evil in this man, and I can see it clearly when Jamie accompanies him downstairs after they’ve finished the inspection. He’s usually praising Jamie for his masterful, inspiring artwork as he descends the stairs, talking about a fabulous exhibition to come, but he has a strange glint in his eye that I don’t like. I can sense that he’s hiding the truth and Perdy agrees with me. Women have better intuition anyway, and I trust her. And I’m sure that Claire hates the way the Duke kisses her hand every time before heading to the door.

But Jamie… Oh, Jamie lives in a parallel universe. He says the Duke might be eccentric but is his agent and that he trusts him. Jamie insists that these visits are necessary, to make sure that the exhibition will be successful. And while he says all that, his fingers keep drumming against his thigh, his lips just a thin line.

My ginger is anxious and scared. He is more afraid than what he shows. One night that I heard noises coming from the attic, I went there to find Jamie sitting in the darkness, in the corner of the room. In my rush to ran towards him, I bumped head-first onto a painting and felt the fresh paint coloring my nose. That was disgusting, I’m telling you! Whining, I finally reached Jamie and lay next to him and with my head on his lap. I was sleepy, but I couldn't leave my human alone. We stayed awake until the first morning light, when Claire came back home and took us to bed.

Claire had her hair in a messy bun that day. Now, as she’s coming back into the living room, her curls fly free all around her face, framing her beautiful smile. She comes towards us, patting my head and scratching Perdy’s ear and I let a content woof as I snuggle closer to Perdita.

Ahh, love. It feels so good.

“Jamie, tea will be ready in five minutes!” Claire is saying as she moves up the stairs, before she opens the attic door gently. “Love?”

“Aye, Sassenach. I’m coming.” As Claire turns to leave, a stray sun beam colors her brown hair a beautiful auburn. “Mo nighean donn,” Jamie whispers, and his voice is barely audible, (but I’m a dog and as you know I can hear much better than you). Jamie always sees colors around him, waiting to be touched by his brushes, but nothing entrances him more than Claire. He raises from his stool and goes to meet her at the door, taking her in his arms while he kisses her lips.

I don’t think we’ll have tea any time soon.

“Jamie,” she says softly. “The kettle…”

“The kettle can wait, Sassenach. Everything else can wait.”

The attic’s door closes softly, hiding them from us and the world.

I don’t hear any nervous drumming of fingers behind that door anymore. All I can hear is two drumming hearts, and that makes me feel that everything is going to be alright.

[urdearestmom]

moving in together (mileven week)

Late July 1991, Iowa City, IA

The last few months, including the second half of second semester and the months of summer break, had been spent calculating costs of living and scouting the classifieds for apartment listings. Finally, at the end of June, Mike and El had settled on a little one bedroom thing close to campus. It was enough for them and had a pullout couch in the living room if anyone ever needed to stay over.

Today, however, is move-in day. They’ve spent all week figuring out how to pack as much as they can into the hand-me-down station wagon, but it isn’t enough. They’ve managed to fit most of their personal items, like clothes and books and some kitchen appliances they’ve bought, but the car isn’t nearly big enough to fit larger pieces of furniture like their new bed. What they’ve done is lash the mattress to the roof and Hopper has volunteered himself to drive up with the rest of their stuff the next day.

It’s six in the morning when they leave and El is half asleep, so Mike keeps the radio low. He drives with the hum of voices quiet in the background for a while, nothing but his thoughts for company. He’s excited to be living with El, on their own. They’d stayed in dorms last year, which, although convenient, meant they lived a floor apart. Sharing an apartment means they get to see each other all the time. And what could be better? It’s a big step to independence from their parents.

It’s sometime around nine when El stirs again, waking up because the car has stopped. They’re at a rest stop somewhere in Illinois, where they both get out to stretch for a few minutes before switching sides so El can drive instead.

Three more hours later, they’re about twenty minutes away and it’s nearing lunch time, so they drive into the city and sit at a McDonald’s for a bit before going on the little way left to their new home. The building is brown brick, nondescript looking and with a rotating door in the entrance, which is probably going to make it really hard to get their mattress in, but they’ll manage.

Mike goes inside to the reception to let them know they’ve arrived while El starts taking small stuff out of the car. She has a pile of boxes (of books and kitchenware, mostly) on the sidewalk before he comes back out with a trolley.

“Hey,” he says. “They gave me this for the boxes and they said we can use the side door later because the mattress won’t fit through the front.”

El nods, still kind of sleepy from having to get up so early. “Okay.”

The two of them stack boxes onto the trolley before locking the car and making their way inside to the elevator. Their apartment is on the third floor, where El then stays to start unpacking stuff into the cupboards while Mike goes back out to the car to cart more stuff upstairs. About forty minutes later, he enters the apartment with only a few boxes on the trolley, face red and sweaty.

“Can you come downstairs and help me with the mattress?”

El has to smile looking at him. She loves this man too much for her own good; living with him is going to be a ride, but at this point she’s sure it’s going to be something she does for the rest of her life.

Back outside, the couple works to untie the mattress from the roof of the station wagon and then use the trolley to get it to the side door. Getting it inside is a whole other task but El’s a little more capable than most, drawing on a bit of power to make the mattress lighter to lift into the elevator and then down the hall to the apartment. Once it’s inside and on the floor of the bedroom, Mike goes back and closes the front door, slumping against it.

“I am so tired,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life.”

El quirks an eyebrow. “Not even when everything back home was going to shit?”

He huffs a laugh. “Not even then. That was adrenaline-induced all-nighters, there’s nothing adrenaline-inducing about moving boxes.”

“Hmm,” says El. “Maybe I can fix that.” She looks at the boombox that she’s already removed from its box and placed on the counter and it turns on, automatically tuning to their favourite Iowa City radio station. It’s in the middle of blasting Rasputin by Boney M and Mike immediately perks up.

He’s grinning when he says, “You know I can’t resist making you laugh.” His dancing is what makes her laugh. It’s so bad that there’s no alternative, and she immediately starts giggling as soon as he tries moving to the beat. Mike ends up tripping haphazardly over a box and sprawling on the floor in the kitchen, where he lays silently for a moment before howling with laughter. He lies there until neither of them can breathe, El having sat on the floor leaning against a cupboard, and it’s kind of crazy but it’s also the best thing ever.

The song ends and fades into the very recognizable intro of Right Here Waiting, and suddenly all Mike can focus on is the way El’s eyes are glittering, her face framed by strands of hair that fell out of the bun she pulled it into earlier, lips caught in a soft smile as she looks down at him.

“Do you know something, El?”

“What?” She questions, still smiling.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, enraptured. “And I love you.”

She sighs and closes her eyes, leaning her head back against the cupboard behind her. “You can’t say things like that, it makes me want to jump you.”

Mike is silent for a second before he starts laughing again. El looks at him with a confused expression.

“Did I say it wrong?” She asks, a smile curving back onto her face. His laughter is contagious.

“Yeah,” he answers, still with a laugh bubbling in his throat, “I think you meant it makes you want to jump my bones. Jumping me just means you’re gonna beat me up and steal my wallet. Unless you’re into that?”

El frowns before she realizes he’s joking. Sometimes jokes like these fly over her head, but most of the time she gets them a second later. She shoves his shoulder, not making much of an impact since he’s on the ground.

“You’re weird.”

Mike grins at her. “Do you want to dance?”

She rolls her eyes and stands, pulling him with her. He wraps his arms around her waist and she lays her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. The song is almost over, but the couple twirl around, almost tripping over boxes in the process but enjoying themselves nonetheless. It’s always a wonderful feeling to be close; being separated for as long as they were as kids was devastating.

With the closing notes of the song, Mike dips El, and as she starts to giggle, silences her with a heartfelt kiss.

“Where’d you learn that, Mister Smooth Guy?” She says, smiling again when he pulls away.

“I may have gained some upper body strength since I was a kid,” he responds with an air of importance. “Needed it for things like that, among others.”

She nuzzles the side of his neck, inhaling the scent of his mom’s laundry detergent. The shirt must have been washed last night, then.

“I love you,” she murmurs. “I’m so excited we get to live together now.”

“Me too,” Mike mumbles against the top of her head. “I was tired of getting interrupted by my roommate.”

El snorts. “Of course.”

Later, they order some pizza from a place close by, having spent the afternoon unpacking but getting more and more tired as the hours went on. The pair end up passing out on their mattress, still in their clothes, and that’s how morning finds them: wrapped up in each other’s arms, snuggled together as they will be every other morning of their life together.