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moonlitceleste · 4 years ago

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New Year’s Day

Timari January Day 1 - New Years Day

@timari-month-event

Note: Happy New Year everyone!! This fic is loosely based off of New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift.

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before but

Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Mmph.” Marinette tried and failed to muffle her tired groan through the thick fabric of Tim’s coat.

It was 2:00 a.m. on New Year’s, and the designer was just about ready to go into hibernation.

Steph had prompted (read: bugged) Bruce into throwing a party, and he eventually complied. It was relatively small and nowhere near as extravagant as the annual Wayne Gala, but one could argue that was a good thing. There was no need to uphold a reputation or make conversation with stuffy rich people, after all. Judging by the rambunctious behavior that had occurred all night, the restricted guest list definitely seemed like a good thing.

Naturally, Marinette was invited—she was Tim’s girlfriend, although it was arguable she was part of the family regardless of her relationship with him.

Her closeness to the rest of the Waynes was evident in the way she was immediately pulled away for some “girl time” upon entering the manor. Similarly, Dick and the rest of the boys stole Tim away for brotherly bonding.

They chatted, played games, ate cake, and eventually joined the rest of the family for the countdown. Joyous shouts and yells filled the manor, and Marinette stole a kiss from Tim when the clock hit midnight.

The party didn’t stop there, though; from then on, it was drinking games and group activities. Well, drinking games for everyone but Damian. He received a glass of sparkling grape juice instead. He wasn’t very happy about being “treated like a baby,” according to his words, but Marinette took her own glass of the substitute and joined him. She had some important designs to work on tomorrow, and she really didn’t want to wake up with a hangover.

After a while, people started going their separate ways again. Some couples had taken to a room in order to ring in the new year together; others decided to split up into groups and do other activities. Dick dragged Marinette to the gym to show her a cool gymnastics trick he had devised, and the rest of the night was spent hopping rooms to find people and make conversation.

The excitement couldn’t last forever, though, and soon enough the adrenaline started to wear. After an obvious change in the atmosphere, Marinette decided to wander the manor in search of Tim.

She scoured far and wide but failed to find him in the unnecessarily large residence. Rather than continue to wander aimlessly, she decided to wait in one spot until he found her. Sending a text would have been more logical, but her brain didn’t seem to be functioning correctly through its tired haze.

Now, Marinette was standing in the middle of the Wayne Manor living room. The din of celebration had long faded, leaving way for a relatively undisturbed silence. The area bustling with movement just hours earlier was now empty, aside from her and Jason, who was passed out on the couch. She couldn’t tell whether it was from drowsiness or alcohol consumption.

“You tired?”

Marinette yelped softly at the person who had sneaked up behind her. She whirled around, startled, and met Tim’s face. He was mid-laugh, no doubt finding amusement in her reaction. She crossed her arms and pouted, but she really was glad to see him.

Marinette had only spent a few fleeting moments with him that night; she hadn’t really had the chance due to his siblings whisking her away at every opportunity. She didn’t mind—the rest of the Waynes were fun to be around. Maybe a little too fun, because now she was absolutely exhausted.

She fell into Tim’s arms with ease and buried her face in his neck, nodding in response to his initial question.

“Let’s go, then.”

Marinette smiled, pulling back to grab his hand. She nearly started walking, but paused and frowned at the living room.

There were streamers strewn across the floor, alongside metallic confetti, glitter, and glass bottles. Board game pieces were thrown in a haphazard pile, and there was a half-eaten cake on the table. It was one of many. The two Marinette baked had disappeared remarkably fast, but Stephanie had bought a large one from the supermarket as well.

“We should help clean up.”

Tim’s brow furrowed as he considered her statement.

“It’s fine. You didn’t make this mess anyway.”

“Just because I didn’t make it doesn’t mean I can’t help! Besides, you’re not going to let Alfred clean all this up, are you?”

“Actually, Bruce would make the rest of the family help. But you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

Tim rolled his eyes at her antics before giving her a peck on the lips. Marinette smiled and gave him an even longer kiss in return, arms snaking around to rest on his waist.

He reciprocated, but to her dismay, gently pushed her away after a minute.

“I thought you said you wanted to clean?”

Now it was Marinette’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The two moved forward to gather the various things littered around, trying their best to be quiet so as not to disturb the body draped over the couch.

Cleaning up bottles together after a New Year’s party probably wasn’t what one would consider romantic or fun, but Marinette wouldn’t trade this for the world.

You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi I can tell that it's going to be a long road I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

Marinette yawned for the millionth time that night, hands flying up to rub at her eyes tiredly.

She could feel Tim’s chest rumble as he chuckled, and she relished in the heat his body provided.

Although the back of a sketchy Gotham taxi was a far cry from her ideal cuddling place, she couldn’t complain—the chilly weather gave her an excuse to stay close to him. Marinette leaned back, snuggling deeper into her boyfriend’s chest.

She startled at the brief warmth atop her head as he pressed a kiss on her crown. The designer melted at the sweet gesture and turned around, twisting her body to meet Tim’s ice-blue eyes. He smiled at her tenderly, a genuine one she loved seeing on his face, and she sent back a nose wrinkle in return.

He let out a silent laugh at her antics and lifted their intertwined hands, giving them a kiss. This boy was going to break her if he kept being so charming.

He leaned forward and rubbed their noses together in an eskimo kiss before giving her a peck on the lips.

Marinette nearly whined at his show of affection. The things he did to her.

She turned back around, but only halfway, so her side was laying against Tim rather than her back like before. She would have kissed him again, but she doubted either of them wanted to be caught making out by the taxi driver.

Closing her eyes, she let herself relax, knowing she was safe in Tim’s arms. And when he squeezed her hand one, two, three times, she squeezed right back.

I love you.

Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or you're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Wait here.”

Marinette tilted her head in confusion as Tim quickly walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of their living room.

The two had just gotten home to their shared apartment and set their thing down. After an exhausting night, what more could he have planned?

Her questions were answered when Tim rushed back into the room, Bluetooth speaker in hand. It was pink, the one Marinette used to play music whenever she was baking. Sometimes Tim would join in, and they’d twirl around in the kitchen and laugh, spatula in hand.

She watched as he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times; seconds later, a delicate melody filtered through the speaker. It was a slow tune—not one she recognized, but the piano notes made for a romantic and dreamy sound.

“May I have this dance?”

Marinette turned to see Tim bent forward at the waist, one arm outstretched like a Disney prince ready to sweep her away. She giggled at his cheesiness and placed her hand in his.

He pulled her forward smoothly, his other arm finding its way around her waist in a classic waltz position.

They stepped off and moved in sync with the music, slowly but surely. Although she wasn’t the best dancer, Tim made it effortless. They glided over the living room floor so smoothly that Marinette felt like a princess at a ball.

It was their own little bubble of bliss, and she could stay there forever, lost in the moment, lost in Tim’s eyes.

And oh, his eyes. She loved all of him, but there was something she adored so much about them. Maybe it was the determined twinkle present whenever he had figured something out, or the happy glint they assumed when he laughed, or the way they softened ever so slightly whenever he looked at her.

Marinette smiled and joined both hands behind his neck. Tim caught on quickly and circled both arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. She closed her eyes and tucked her head under his chin, swaying side to side with the music.

They both had a lot of things to do tomorrow, but right now the rest of the world didn’t matter. It was just Marinette and Tim—her best friend, her partner, her world—and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior @bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @jalaluvsu @nathleigh @too0bsessedformyowngood

#celestewrites #maribat #timari january #timari month #timari #timinette #tim x marinette #cel's fics

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allisonxmoynihan · 4 years ago

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illicit affairs (pt. 2) ~ a. turcotte

Requested: yes | no

Song: this series is loosely inspired on Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift (you can listen here!)

Part One: read here!

Word Count: 1,988

The sun peeped out from behind the clouds, the first sunny day you’d seen since summer. You winced at the bright december sunlight, wiping down tables at the cafe, trying to prepare yourself for the afternoon rush of tourists and tired parents with chaotic toddlers begging to go back out in the snow

A group of girls came in and you offered a weak smile their way, “I’ll be right with you,” you say, walking back towards the counter.

The holiday rush was always your least favorite time of year, but it was worse now that he was gone. You hated seeing how cheery everyone was, how excited everyone was to be with loved ones for the holidays. But like the cold, bitter days outside, you were left realizing that your “warmth” was gone, off doing better things like he always said he would.

“Hey, so can I get,” a slender, brunette girl with the most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen starts in an almost valley-girl voice before pausing, “Vanessa, what did you say was really good?” The girl turns to look at you, “Sorry, it’s my first time coming here, my fiance always talks about it so I need to try it!” She smiles.

You smile back, wondering where you had seen her before, but not being able to figure it out.

“Okay, yeah, can I please get a small skinny vanilla latte?” the girl says

“Of course, can I get a name for the order?”

“Sofia,”

And that’s when the images come flashing back in your mind, your hands going pale from gripping the counter so tightly. That’s her. You glance down at her hand, seeing the large diamond ring on her left hand, and your heart sinks all over again as he comes back into your mind. Him. The only guy you’d ever given your heart to, and you haven’t gotten it back after the months away from him. Alex had moved on, obviously, and your heart broke all over again looking at his fiancee, the girl who was everything you could never be for him.

“Alright, Sofia, that’ll be $1.50, and you can wait at the other counter for pick up,” you choke out, handing the order ticket off to your co-worker.

You watch her and her friends walk across the cafe, the pictures from Alex’s instagram flooding your mind. You wanted, more than anything, for him to be happy; you knew he deserved all the best things in life and you really truly wanted him to be well. But you hated seeing that he was so okay while you were still hurting. You hated that you couldn’t be the one to make him happy.

Your eyes follow her as she walks out the shop and runs up and hugs the dark haired boy you’d grown to love. The knife in your heart twists as he kisses her; and when he pulls away and sees you behind the counter, you swear you see hints of sadness before he’s dragged towards the town square, hand in hand with Sofia.

~*~

The sun was setting above the city skyscrapers, creating hues of pink and orange to scatter about your living room. Your head was resting upon Alex’s chest, rising and falling with each breath he took, his fingers twirling your hair round and round.

“I could stay like this forever,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Yeah?”

“Of course. I can see us, living out in a penthouse, coming home from hockey to you and our kids,”

“That sounds nice,” you laugh, tilting your head up to press kisses against his jaw.

“I love you,” he smiles down to press a kiss to your lips.

You smile, but the pain in your chest tightens. With each passing moment you could tell Alex was slipping further and further away from you and you didn’t know how to make him stay. You noticed he started distancing himself from you, only coming by when it was convenient or when he needed you.

You push yourself off of him, sitting up and staring at the wall ahead of you.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, concern filling his eyes, begging you to confide in him.

You laugh slightly to try and keep the tears back, “Alex, who is she?”

He’s immediately taken aback, “who? I don’t know what you’re talking about..”

You scoff while shaking your head, “you don’t know what I’m talking about? Alex, the girl who’s all over your social media”

He swallows hard, reaching for your hand, “baby, come on, she’s just a friend. You know you mean the world to me.”

Your expression softens at his reassurance, “but then why can’t I meet your friends? If i mean the world to you, why am I always kept a secret?”

Alex pulls you into his side, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, “I’m just protecting you from my world,”

You relax into him, feeling better and protected. You knew the world of elite hockey players were different, that you didn’t fit the image. You believed Alex when he told you he was trying to protect you from the wrath and hate from his fans.

~*~

“We need to talk…” his stern voice fills your ears, your breath halting.

Your heart sinks as the elevator closes, “Okay, yeah, I’ll be at your place soon.”

He abruptly hangs up the phone and you stare at your reflection in the elevator door. You felt Alex slipping away for months now, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he got bored and left. Before he found someone better and left you in the dust.

You knock twice on his door before a disheveled Alex appears, stepping aside to let you in. He doesn’t kiss you at the door like he used to, just stares at you as you walk into his apartment.

“So…” You start, breaking the uncomfortable silence that’s fallen over the two of you.

“This needs to stop” he states matter of factly without any hesitation. It comes out so mechanical and rehearsed, and you know he’s been thinking this for awhile now.

You look up at him, swallowing back the tears, “Alex, please, can we just try and talk this through?”

He shakes his head, “y/n, i’ve made up my mind. Whatever it is that we had, it’s over.”

“But-”

“y/n, I don’t love you, okay?” he snaps, and you take a step back.

“What did I do wrong?”

He sits back on his sofa, running his hand through his hair, “you didn’t do anything. I just found someone better. I’m moving on, okay?”

Tears threaten to spill, as you look at him in disbelief, sadness and anger combining in the pit of your stomach. “You’re an asshole,” you mutter, turning to walk out the door.

Walking down to his lobby you angrily wipe the tears away. The one boy you’d ever given yourself away to, the one boy you’d ever fallen for, the person whose happiness mattered to you more than your own was gone. And you didn’t know if you’d be okay again.

“Hey, y/n?” you hear his voice, smooth like honey, breathy from running to catch up to you, “take care of yourself, okay?”

~*~

Laying on your couch, you were thankful that the work day was finally over. For the next 12 hours you could just sit at home and relax, and forget all about Alex and his fiancee.

You were watching your favorite tv show, stuffing oreo after oreo into your mouth when a loud knock startled you. You look at your phone to see it was almost 2 a.m., and you weren’t expecting anyone.

Cautiously, you get up and look out the peephole.

You sigh, opening the door up, “wh-?” you're interrupted with his lips harshly connecting with yours, pushing you backwards and kicking the door closed.

He lays you down on the couch, laying on top of you before reconnecting your lips and kissing down your neck.

“Alex, what are you doing here?” you breathe out, your hands instinctively sliding up his t-shirt.

He gathers some of your skin between his teeth and sucks down on it, “I need you,”

“What about Sofia?”

“We can forget about her for a minute,”

You know it’s wrong, that he should be home with Sofia, but this is everything you’ve been craving since he pushed you away. As much as you know you shouldn’t, you give in to his desire.

He removes your clothing in a rush, admiring your body like he never has before, and you want to believe him. You want to believe that he really does love you, that he meant everything he ever said. That he only left you because he got scared of how real your love was.

He thrusts into you and you moan his name, throwing your head back.

“You like that, huh baby girl?” He asks, picking up his pace.

“Alex, please,” you pant

He kisses up and down your neck, and you know there are going to be marks tomorrow morning as he starts rubbing circles to your clit.

He grunts as he continues to thrust sloppily into you, “i know you’re close baby girl,”

You release around him, and he closely follows as he draws out your high, “i love you alex,” you say before pressing your lips to his.

He slips down your hall to get a towel to clean you up, “y/n, I’m sorry for how I treated you all that time ago,”

You hush him, “it’s okay, alex, it’s fine. We can start fresh,”

He shakes his head, beginning to redress, “y/n, i’m getting married to another woman,”

You gulp, watching him as approaches the door, getting ready to walk back out of your life.

“Thanks for tonight,” he smiles, before slipping back into the night.

You begin to cry, angry at yourself for letting him come back in so easily after everything he’s done to you. Angry that you would continue to ruin yourself over and over again if it meant he’d come back for just a moment.

~*~

“Alright kiddo, I’m heading out for the day. I left a little present for you in the back to thank you for everything. Keep your head up and you’ll do great things,” Your manager advises.

You smile, “Thanks Carol, and I promise I’ll be fine out east, I promise.”

She smiles back, “i know, honey, you always will,”

Years had passed since that night with Alex. You sat waiting for him to come back for a year, and sometimes he did, but they always ended the same way. He and Sofia got married and you saw on instagram that he and Sofia had just welcomed a baby girl into the world: Isabella Grace Turcotte.

Even after his daughter was born, he continued to show up drunk at your door declaring that he needed you. And each time you gave yourself away to him, hoping he’d choose you at the end of the night.

But enough was enough, you decided you deserved more than being his mistress behind closed doors. You knew he didn’t care about you at this point anymore, that it was convenient for him that you were willing to continuously destroy yourself each time he decided to come back into your life. So you decided to leave LA and head east to Boston.

Alex had moved on to the bigger and better things you knew were in store for him, he was the Kings best player, and you were happy his dreams were finally turning into his reality. It was time you invested the energy you had poured into him for so long into yourself. It was time you gave yourself a shot at turning your own dreams into a reality. And you never looked back.

#alex turcotte #la kings #wisconsin hockey #trevor zegras #cole caufield #jack hughes #johnny beecher #alex vlasic #patrick moynihan #ntdp boys #ntdp imagine #USA Hockey

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years ago

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chemistry

isaac lahey x reader

isaac needs help in chemistry and you need help in english - the beginning

this is for isaac anon and the few people that wanted this. i’m just dabbling here, so let me know if you guys want more! (i did quite a bit of Research for this and i have ideas)

also let me know, i left it vague, but if i expand i’m probably going to add in scott, stiles, allison, and lydia. would you guys like to keep it supernatural or do full au where they’re just normal college students?

You noticed the boy in your Intro to Academic Writing course, but you didn’t really focus on him, mostly due to freshman year stress, until he sat down next to you in General Chemistry. Stepping into the classroom you’d felt at ease, science was your jam, but the really cute boy put you back on edge. You felt hyperaware of him, his scent, kind of cinnamon-y, fall-esque.

He tapped his fingers on his notebook, and you couldn’t help but notice he wrote in green pen. You glanced every so often to see him doodling in the corner of the page instead of taking notes on the intro lesson on the scientific method that your professor was doing.

The boy rested his chin on his hand and his fingers went from tapping on the notebook to his jaw and you shook your head, trying to focus back on the professor who was talking about your lab groups.

“The people at your table are in your group. Lab is on Wednesday nights, I won’t be the instructor, you’ll have a TA, but you can email me or come to my office hours if you have any questions about what’s going on. I’ll see you all on Thursday.”

You started to pack your stuff and the boy turned to you with a crooked grin, “I’m Isaac.”

Shaking his hand, you introduced yourself and he stood, waiting for you to finish packing your stuff. You zipped your booksack, “You’re in my English class, right?” you asked, faking as if you didn’t notice him as soon as you stepped into the door.

He nodded, “Yeah, with Dr. Terranova.”

“He seems,” you trailed off, looking for the right word, “interesting.”

Isaac grinned, “You mean overwhelmingly picky for an English 101 professor?”

“That’s a great way to put it,” you told him, laughing.

The two of you walked out the door and down the hall together. Isaac shifted his booksack on his shoulders a little and asked, “Do you have any more classes today?”

“Calculus,” you told him and he grimaced.

“Fuck that.”

“You?”

He nodded, “Spanish.”

Unfortunately for you, the buildings were on opposite ends of campus, so you paused just outside the door to the chemistry building. Isaac paused too and smiled, “See you tomorrow night?”

“See you tomorrow, Isaac.”

Your lab group was made up of two boys and two girls. Isaac, Andrew, Abigail, and you. Out of the group, you were the only STEM major, and the only one who actually liked chemistry. Isaac patted your shoulder, “Well, that officially makes you team captain then.”

“Thank god,” Abigail added, “I’m an advertising major, my brain noped out of the sciences years ago.”

The other guy, Andrew, said, “I took Chem 2 in high school and didn’t pass the AP exam, chemistry and I have beef.”

You snorted and said, “Cool, well, I’ll try and lead us to the promised land.” They seemed to like that.

Your group was really smart, everyone was picking up the labs really easily and you were thrilled, especially when the teacher stood in front of the class after the first test review. She clapped her hands once, “Okay, the lab group with the highest combined test average gets five bonus points added to their test scores. This is me trying to get you guys familiar with study groups, especially if you’re going to be in STEM, which I know some of you are. Study groups got me through school.”

Unfortunately, everyone in your lab group already had stuff going on, so you couldn’t study with them. Fortunately, the test was on intro stuff like the scientific method, conversions, and balancing equations, and your group hadn’t had any issues in any of the lab work, so you weren’t worried.

But when you got the test back, you realized, maybe you should’ve been. Isaac got his handed back first and actually laughed when he looked at the grade. Before you could ask, the professor set yours down on the desk and you started flipping through it, frowning at the little points you’d had taken off for careless mistakes.

“Fuck,” you muttered, “should’ve gotten at least a 97.”

“Wow, can’t believe you fucked it up for the whole group,” Isaac sarcastically responded, nudging you with his elbow, before sliding his test on top of yours. He nudged you again, “As you can see, I’m carrying the team,” and he motioned toward the D written in bright red at the top of his paper.

Your mouth dropped open and you picked the test up, flipping through to see what he’d missed. Eyebrows furrowed, you looked over at him, “You should tell her you accidentally skipped the back page.”

“Oh, it wasn’t an accident, I just didn’t know how to do it.”

“Well,” you stuttered, “it was the same stuff we did in the last lab activity.”

Isaac nodded, “Yes it is, and I didn’t understand it then either.”

“I thought,” you paused, mind racing, “I thought we all did?”

He grinned at you, “Some of us aren’t science brains, my friend.”

“What are you?” you asked as the class started to pack up.

With a soft smile, he threw his booksack over his shoulder, “I’m a literature major.”

You didn’t mean to think about it as much as you did, but when 2 a.m. rolled around and you were at your most impulsive you couldn’t stop yourself from sending out a text.

Hey, do you maybe want to meet up and study sometime?

After hitting send you could’ve slammed your head into a wall. You locked your phone and put your head in your hands, “God damnit.” And then your phone dinged.

I’d love that, love to have a STEM genius in my corner.

Your cheeks heated as you read it and your mind raced with your heart. It was beating harder and part of you couldn’t even believe he’d said yes. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you responded.

Idk about genius but I’m not half bad at chem

He responded, even faster than the first time and you grinned, unable to stop it from overtaking your face.

I may not know much about the scientific method or whatever, but all evidence suggests otherwise, genius

The next test wasn’t for a few weeks, but Isaac wanted to start studying earlier. He suggested meeting at a coffee shop called The Beanery. Coffee shops weren’t really your jam, you liked the silence of the fourth floor of the library. Go early, get a table, put in head phones, and go to work. But, you were open to try Isaac’s suggestion.

It was brightly lit when you walked in, and he was already there, at a table in the corner, laptop out. Books were spread across the tabletop, and he already had two empty mugs on the table in front of him, leg bouncing as he aimlessly chewed on a pen.

Shaking yourself out of staring, you walked to the counter to order. Isaac smiled up at you when you made it to the table with your coffee.

“Welcome,” he told you, moving some of his books out of the way. Sitting up straighter, Isaac glanced around, “What do you think about this place?”

“It’s nice, definitely a change of pace from my norm.”

“Where’s that then?”

“Library, fourth floor.”

“Quiet up there, huh?”

“Yeah, but I listen to some music for background.”

“I like coffee shops,” Isaac said, closing his laptop, “the vibes are nice and my clothes always smell like coffee afterward which is a fun bonus.”

At his comment, you looked down at his clothes. You were a little surprised to see that he was dressed just like during the week: jeans, a nicer t-shirt, and a cardigan. You’d wondered, deep down, if he dressed nicer for class, but it didn’t seem the case. Isaac cleared his throat and your eyes snapped to his face, ears burning when you saw him staring at you in amusement.

Coughing quietly, you reached for your booksack, “So, chemistry. Do you understand what we’ve been going over?”

“I know they’re called Bohr models but I don’t know anything else about them.”

“Right, so,” you paused a minute, trying to figure out where to start, “it’s a way to draw an atom and it’s kind of like a planet.”

Isaac leaned forward through your explanation, resting most of his weight on his elbows, and tapped the green pen against his lower lip. Every so often he’d ask a question, shift a little and write something down in his notebook by whatever he’d scribbled in class. His questions were shockingly insightful, and you eagerly answered them all.

By the time you’d gotten through the basics of thermodynamics, he’d added a whole page of notes, and you could tell he was starting to lose interest. Shutting your notebook, you told him, earnestly, “I hope this helped a little.”

“I promise,” he looked you straight in the eye, “it makes sense. This all looked like a foreign language before we met up.”

“Good,” you nodded, “this is my jam.”

“Keep on spreading it,” he joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well,” you admitted, “you may not be good at chem but you’d kick my ass into next week in English.”

“How’s your paper going?” Isaac asked, leaning back and crossing his arms, looking genuinely interested.

“It’s…going.”

He snorted, “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“Yeah neither does my thesis.”

“Do you have your laptop?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me have a look,” he suggested.

Pulling up the word doc, you passed your laptop over, staring down at your hands, twiddling your thumbs, a little nervously, as he read through your rough draft.

“What did Dr. Terranova have to say in your conference?” he asked, pushing your laptop away.

You sighed, “He was less than complimentary.”

Isaac laughed, “It’s not that bad, but it could use some polishing. I can help of course.”

Relief washed over you and you felt a weight off your shoulders, “That would be incredible actually.”

“There, now we’re even. You tutor me in chemistry and I’ll make sure you pass English, starting with this rough, and emphasis on rough, draft.”

Reaching across the table, you shoved at his hand, “Be gentle.”

“I’m going to get another chai,” he said, standing to stretch a bit, “and you pick out what sentence exactly you think is your thesis. We’ll start there.”

Biting your lip to conceal a grin, you nodded, waking your laptop back up.

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #college isaac

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wonderstvrs · 4 years ago

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2 AM Essays | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

In which Reader stays up to finish an essay, but Bakugou steps in.

WORD COUNT: 1,375 words

WARNINGS: Explicit Swearing, Reader is Gender Neutral

You really hated being such a chronic procrastinator. You’d think that after how stressful your first year at UA was for you that you’d learn how to stop putting off your schoolwork until the last minute. But here you were at 2 AM, frantically trying to finish a five-page essay.

It didn’t help that you were exhausted from your work-study. There had been an incident during patrol that required your intervention. By the end of it, you were sore and—judging from the pounding in your head—had overused your Quirk. You should be resting—as your mentor had strictly ordered you to do—but this essay had other plans for you.

Right now, it was being a brat and refusing to cooperate. You stare at the document in front of you, eyes bleary, and threatening to droop. You’ve been writing for hours, that was at least three pages, right? You check your word count: 2 ½ pages.

You let your head fall back into the couch cushion and groan in frustration. At this point, you’re not even sure if you can even form a coherent thought, let alone write another sentence about some Pre-Quirk war.

“What the hell are you doing up, dumbass?”

You pause the curse you were sending whoever invented essays to turn your heard to the direction of the voice. Bakugou Katsuki stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, and a scowl on his face. Even in your sleep-deprived state, you couldn’t help but ogle at his arms. Thank the gods for this man’s obsession with tank-tops.

“Oh, hey, Bakugou.” You manage to tear your eyes away from his bulging biceps to greet him. “What—”

Your brain short circuits. You have no idea what you were going to say, but you don’t really care because Bakugou had bed hair. You didn’t think your embarrassing crush on him could get any stronger. But, here he was, standing in front of you with bed hair and the most endearing scowl on his face.

“Spit it out, dumbass,” he snaps at you. You blink at him, which only seems to irritate him further. “What the hell are you doing being loud at 2 AM?”

Damn, so you did wake him up.

“Sorry.” You lift your laptop into his view. “Trying to finish Snipe’s World War I essay.”

He’s quiet for a moment. You’ve been friends with him long enough to know that he’s trying to think of the words to say. You marvel at how much he’s changed over the past year. While he was still the same crude and short-tempered Bakugou that you met in 1st year, the months he spent in therapy following the fight with Shigaraki had mellowed him out. He now thought twice before he spoke and took the time to formulate thoughtful responses to delicate situations.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

And then sometimes he says shit like that. You scowl at him, mood even worse than before.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to remind me.” You turn back around, focusing your eyes on your laptop. Crush or not, he really pissed you off sometimes. “You can go back to bed. I promise I’ll be quiet.”

You stare at the last sentence that you wrote, not comprehending anything. You’re contemplating just pressing random keys and hoping they form a sentence when Bakugou pulls the laptop away from you. What the hell? When did he get there? And also—

“Hey! Give it back!” You stand up, trying to take the laptop back from him. You’re a little sluggish, probably because of the lack of sleep, which leaves you helpless as he saves your work and turns off your laptop. “Bakugou, that’s due tomorrow!”

“Yeah, in 5th period, which is after lunch. You can do it then,” he says. He keeps the laptop away from your each. His other hand comes up to flick your forehead.

“You can’t get any work done fucking sleep-deprived, idiot.”

You pull a face, rubbing your forehead, “You’re so mean.”

He rolls his eyes at you, “That’s because you’re a fucking dumbass. Let’s go. It’s too fucking early for this.”

He turns away, heading up the stairs. You watch his retreating back, a warm feeling in your chest. Ugh, and just as you were telling yourself to get over him, he pulls shit like this.

“Are you fucking coming, or are you just gonna stand there like an idiot?” He calls from the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses.”

You gather the papers spread across the coffee table and follow him up. The elevator ride up to your floor is silent. You find that you don’t mind and take the opportunity to steal glances at him. You knew that he had just turned seventeen in April, but you could already see the traces of young adulthood in his face.

He had stubble growing in, barely noticeable because of how light his hair is, but there nonetheless. His jaw was so sharp that it could probably cut someone, and his face was becoming more defined. He must have noticed you staring because he looked over at you.

“What?” He asked. He looked just as tired as you did, which made sense. Of all the people that you knew, Bakugou was the only one who slept at 8 PM. Even Iida, their resident goody-goody, slept at 10 PM.

“Nothing,” you answered. He didn’t look like he believed you, but was probably too tired to push it.

He walks you to your door (you’re definitely gonna scream about this to Ochaco later), your laptop still under his arm. He doesn’t hand it to you even when you stop in front of your room.

“So, are you ever going to give my laptop back, or what?” You ask when he just stands there.

He doesn’t respond, looking like he wanted to say something, but he needed to think of the words first. You waited patiently, even if you wanted nothing more than to crash on your bed.

“You’re finishing this during lunch,” he finally says. You nod, trying to follow his train of thought.

“At the table,” he continues. You nod again. “With me.”

“Yes, Bakugou, of course. We sit at the same table.” You really don’t know where this conversation was going. He looked at you in exasperation, like he expected you to get what he was saying already.

“No, not with the other extras. With me, like alone. On another table.”

You blink. Your brain, running on its last battery percentage, is trying to process what he just said. He wanted you to finish the essay with him, on a table different from your usual, alone. Did he? Wait, oh my god. Did he mean like a study date?

Your face feels warm as the thought finally dawns on you. Oh my god, Bakugou wanted to have a study date with you. He must have seen the look of realization on your face because he turned red. He looked away pushing the laptop into your hand.

“Whatever. See you at lunch tomorrow, or not. I don’t care.” He put his hands into the pockets of his chairs and turns away, heading back to the elevator to head up to his room. Your brain is screaming at you to tell him something, but your mouth is a little slow on the uptake.

“Bakugou!” You call out. He stops but doesn’t turn. You feel the smile creeping up on your face, so wide that it threatens to split it in two, “I’d love to have a study date with you.”

You can’t see his face, but from the way the tips of his ears turn red, you know that he’s red again.

“Whatever,” he says before he walks briskly down the hallway. You don’t enter your room until you hear the elevator doors close. You can’t help the scream you let out in your pillow or the fast beating of your heart.

Bakugou just asked you out on a study date. It didn’t matter that he didn’t say it in those exact words, you knew from his reaction that he meant it.

As you drifted off to sleep, you thought, ‘Thank you whoever invented essays. I will never curse your name ever again.’

I finished writing this at 4:53 A.M. lmfaooo. Inspiration strikes at the weirdest times, I swear. Feel free to hmu if you want me to write something hehe.

#bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #mine: bakugou katsuki

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 4 years ago

Text

Il fait un pas à l'extérieur

Existence in Real Time - Chapter 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

A/N: The title of this chapter is in french because this is my first semester without taking french and I miss it and it sounds pretty, it means ‘he takes a step outside’

Summary: Peter is allowed out into the world for the first time for a shopping trip with (y/n)

Series Masterlist

Regular Masterlist

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After two weeks out of the lab Peter truly felt like he was starting to understand how things in the outside world worked. He’d been trying his best to get an understanding of pop culture and how you were supposed to talk to others casually, and there had been some hiccups, but (y/n) kept telling him he was doing great. Peter had quickly decided his initial feelings about (y/n) had been spot on, she was incredibly kind and patient and seemed to have no qualms about spending her free time with him. In fact she seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. She’d come home from school everyday with a list of new things to show him, or a backpack full of different snacks for him to try, and during his first weekend in the penthouse she’d shown him how to order take out so he could try new things while she wasn’t there. Tony was nice too, fun even, but he was usually more interested in Peter’s powers and asking about the lab. He didn’t mind it really, but the rest of the world was much more exciting, and new, and it was a lot more fun than reminiscing about the lab.

For his second weekend at the penthouse (y/n) had promised they’d be doing the thing he’d been looking forward to the most: exploring the city. Tony had given them very strict instructions to let him know exactly where they’d be, and call him if they saw anything even a tiny bit suspicious, but it was still a level of leniency and trust far beyond anything Peter had ever experienced. He had been buzzing all week at the thought, writing up an extensive list of things he wanted to do while they were out. He’d excitedly presented it to (y/n) at 8 a.m sharp on Saturday morning, to which she’d told him to get out of her room and let her sleep in or else, and he’d in turn returned to the living room to try and wait patiently for her to get up. Lucky for him she’d dragged herself into the bathroom at 10 and declared herself ready by 10:30.

“Alright, let’s see that list,” she yawned as they stepped into the elevator.

“Here,” he passed it to her, smiling like it was Christmas morning, “I’m sorry I woke you up so early.”

“It’s okay, just not a morning person,” her eyes scanned over the list with a small hum, “You should knock before you come into people’s rooms though, in case they’re changing or something.”

“Sorry, I won’t do it again,” he promised, “So, uh, do you think we can do all of it?”

“We’ll try, but we can go back out tomorrow if we don’t. What did you want to do first?”

“Well you keep talking about shopping so I thought we could do that first, and then maybe we could eat lunch in central park?”

“Okie dokie, do you wanna get clothes or like try and decorate your room?”

“Can we go to a store with both?”

“Sure, Nordstroms isn’t far and they have everything,” she waved to a man in the lobby as they exited the elevator, “That’s Happy, he’s our driver.”

“His name is Happy?” Peter raised a brow.

She nodded, “Yep.”

“That’s a weird name.”

She rolled her eyes at him before addressing the man, “Hey Happy, this is Peter, dad told him about you right?”

Happy nodded, “Yep, nice to meet you kid.”

“You too. So you drive cars?”

Peter’s introductions could still use a little work.

Happy raised a brow at (y/n), who just pursed her lips, “Yeah, I drive cars.”

“Cool,” Peter glanced to (y/n), not really sure what he should say next.

She smiled and collapsed her hands in front of her, “Happy can you take us to Nordstrom's first?”

He nodded, “Yeah, hop in, I’ll drive the car.”

Peter’s eyes had been glued to the window the entire dive, watching everything they passed in absolute awe. Each block had been packed with more people than he’d met in his entire life, and when they arrived at the store he nearly had a heart attack at the amount of people piling in and out of the doors. Happy had dropped them off right in front of the doors, telling (y/n) to call him when they were ready to leave. She’d grabbed Peter by the arm, weaving them through the crowd with an amount of grace he was certain he would never be able to match.

“Here,” she finally shoved them both onto the escalator, giving Peter a much needed moment to breathe, “The mens and home sections are both upstairs, which do you wanna hit first?”

“Uh, mens.” Truthfully, Peter was getting a little overwhelmed by the crowd, “Is it gonna be this busy up there?”

“I don’t think so. It’s usually not as busy upstairs,” she got on her tiptoes to try and peak at the upper floor, “Why?”

“Nothing, just wondering,” he forced a smile.

She frowned, “You don’t like crowds?”

Peter flushed, “I don’t know, I’ve just never been around this many people.”

“If it’s too much we can go,” she set a hand on his upper arm, squeezing lightly, “I’m sorry Peter, I should have thought about that. We can try going places that are calmer first.”

He shook his head, “I wanna be here, it’s just a little overwhelming. I just need to get used to it.”

She bit her cheek and nodded, “Okay, but if you change your mind just let me know, some people just don’t like crowds, that’s okay.”

“I will, but I’m okay for now,” he followed her off the escalator, letting his eyes wander for a minute, “You’re right, it’s not as bad up here.”

“Yeah, it’s always packed by the entrance,” she walked him to the left half of the floor, where about a million different racks of mens clothes were laid out, “So we just kind of wander around and if you see something you like we can grab it and you can try it on,” she slipped her hand into his, squeezing it firmly, “And if you get overwhelmed you can hold my hand if you want,” she blushed a little when she dropped his hand, “When I got nervous when I was little I used to squeeze my dads hand as hard as I could while we walked around, it always helped me feel better.”

He fought his cheeks when they tried to flush again, “Thanks, that, um, it does help.”

She smiled as she set her hand atop a rack of sweaters, “Just don’t squeeze my hand as hard as you can, you’ll definitely break it.”

“No promises,” he smiled back, “You like those?”

She nodded, “Yeah, they’re soft, do you like them?”

He studied them for a minute, grabbing the sleeve of one before nodding, “Yeah, I like the blue one.”

She smiled ear to ear, taking one from the rack and holding it to his chest, “Definitely a medium,” she concluded, “Alright, one down, anything else catching your eye?”

He shrugged, “Not yet, but that means it's just time to wander around right?”

She nodded, “You lead the way.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Peter had picked out five t-shirts, three sweaters, and four pairs of pants, letting (y/n) add things as they went and give her best guess for his sizes before shoving him into a fitting room.

“You’re really good at guessing sizes,” Peter looked down at himself as he exited the fitting room. He’d opted for one of the sweaters and a pair of jeans, it seemed simple enough.

“Yeah, I go shopping a lot,” she looked over him carefully, “Do you like it?”

He shrugged, “Yeah, I guess, it’s comfortable.”

“Well you should like your clothes, you should feel good wearing them,” she hummed, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around, “I’ve got an idea for this one, so why don’t you change again and I’ll be right back okay?”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m just gonna grab something, I’ll be back before you even finish getting dressed,” she assured.

“Okay.” Truthfully he was more worried about her being alone than he was himself. “Just come right back if there’s anything weird.”

She rolled her eyes, “I think you’re spending too much time with my dad. I think I’ll be okay to walk five feet from the fitting room.”

He nodded, watching her leave before returning to the dressing room. Next he settled on a t-shirt he’d chosen, it had a scene from the first movies they’d watched together, Star Wars, and a pair of dark grey sweatpants that she’d told him were joggers every time he said sweatpants. She’d picked them out for him, insisting they’d ‘change his life’ with how comfortable they were. He didn’t really get it still, they were basically the same pants he always wore.

“Hey I think I-” he stopped himself mid sentence when he saw (y/n) was still missing. He was worried instantly, his mind wandering to the worst case scenario as he exited the fitting room, but he quickly relaxed when he spotted her just outside the door, talking to a boy their age.

“Oh hey sorry,” she apologized with a smile, “I got caught up for a second. Peter this is Flash, I go to school with him. Flash, this is Peter.”

“Oh, uh, hi,” Peter gave a tight lipped smile as he looked the boy over, “Nice to meet you.”

Flash nodded, “You too, so he’s like your cousin or something?”

“No, he, um,” (y/n) looked over at Peter, trying to quickly think of something, “He’s working with my dad, yeah, he’s an intern.”

Peter nodded in agreement, “Yep, I’m Tony’s intern.”

“Oh, cool,” Flash’s eyes hadn’t left (y/n) for more than a second, and he seemed to blush when he addressed her, “Well, I’ll leave you guys to it, I’ll see you Monday?”

She nodded, smiling obliviously back at him, “Yeah, you too,” she began retreating to the fitting room, passing Peter a button up shirt, “You should put that on under the sweater, it’ll look nice.”

“He was into you,” Peter hummed as he took the shirt.

“What?”

“He was into you, you know, like romantically. “

She hummed, “I don’t think so.”

“He totally is. Are you into him or something.”

She shook her head quickly, “No, Flash definitely isn’t my type, and he’s kind of an ass.”

“Why were you talking to him then?”

“He’s not an ass to me, just to some of my friends and stuff. Plus if I’m an ass to him it just gives him reasons to justify being an ass to everyone else you know?”

“No, if he was being an ass to my friends,” he paused for a minute, “Well, just you I guess, er, maybe your dad too, anyway, point is, I’d punch him. And maybe he’s not an ass to you specifically because he’s into you.”

“Maybe but I think if he was trying to get with me or something he’d want to get in good with my friends too. And you can’t just punch people, you could give him permanent brain damage or something,” she took a seat in the large chair in the waiting area, “Let’s get back to our fashion show.”

“He would deserve it,” he commented before glancing at the mirror again, “I like this.”

“Me too. Now go put the sweater back on, and try the black jeans.”

“Yes mam,” he retreated behind the curtain once again, “So do you know a lot of people at school.”

“Kind of, I mean I know most of the people in my grade, but I’m only close with a couple people.”

“Do you like school?”

“Yeah, for the most part.”

He tossed the curtain open and stepped out once again, “You were right, this looks good.”

“Love it,” she nodded in agreement, “You know if you wanted to you could probably enroll with me, I mean not right now or anything, but we could talk to my dad about it.”

He liked the idea, even if the thought was a little nerve wracking, “Do you think he’d go for that?”

“Definitely! He’d have to get you legal documents and make sure you were ready and everything, but I’m sure he’d be down. I think you’d like it too, you’d get to be around a lot of other people our age,” she seemed excited at the prospect, which dissolved any nerves he’d been having, “I don’t think the actual work or anything would be a problem for you either, so just if you wanted too…”

He smiled at her, “I do, I think I’d like that.”

Her big, enthusiastic smile assured him it was the right choice, “Awesome, we can talk to him when we get home then.”

“Yeah, he’ll have to say yes after he sees my new drip.”

She burst into laughter, “Did you just say drip?”

He nodded, “And I know for a fact I used it correctly.”

“Um, okay,” she raised her hands in surrender, “Apparently Peter uses slang now.”

“That’s right,” he winked, “Give me like a week and I’ll have my very own Twitter too.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Peter stopped very suddenly on their way to the check out, suddenly entranced by a table full of Legos, “What are these?”

“Legos, they’re little building blocks for kids,” (y/n) explained, her attention staying on the throw blanket she held to her chest.

“Let’s get some.”

She furrowed her brow and looked over at him, “You want Legos?”

He nodded, “This one the Millennium Falcon, it’s cool, we could build it together.”

“Cool is a bit of a strong word,” she mumbled as she picked up the box, examining it carefully, “I don’t know Peter, this one says nine and up, I don’t want you to choke on any of the pieces.”

He rolled his eyes, “Haha, you’re so cute,” he took the box from her with a smile, “We’re gonna get it, and we’re gonna have tons of fun building it together, and then you’re gonna be upset that we only got one box.”

She stuck her tongue out before continuing on her way, “Whatever you say spider-dork.”

“That’s Spiderman to you,” he bit back, “Show a little respect.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

They’d both been surprised to find Tony in the car when Happy came to pick them up, luckily he’d only come to meet them for lunch so Peter’s day on the town could continue. Peter had sat back while Tony and (y/n) argued over where to eat, finally settling on a sushi place right across from central park. He really couldn’t fathom holding such a serious debate over something as small as food.

“So, how was shopping Peter?” Tony questioned as they sat down.

“Uh, it was fun,” he chewed the inside of his cheek, “It’s really cool seeing all this stuff but I’m excited to see all the stuff outside.”

“I would be too,” he sat back in his chair, looking over his menu lazily, “By the way, did I see Legos in one of those bags?”

“Peter wanted Legos,” (y/n) explained.

Tony raised a brow at him, “You wanted Legos?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah, it was the Millennium Falcon, it’s cool.”

“Cool is a strong word,” Tony hummed, “So is that what you two are planning to do for the rest of the day.”

(y/n) shook her head, “No, Peter’s got a whole list, we’re gonna go walk around the park after this.”

“Let me see the list.” (y/n) passed it to him, letting him look over it quietly for a second before shaking his head. “No, this is no good, this is all tourist crap. Kid what were you thinking?”

“That I’m a tourist,” Peter deadpanned.

“Point taken,” Tony nodded, “Well you do this this weekend and next weekend I’ll make you a much better list than this.”

“Yeah and where are you gonna send us? A tour of New York’s greatest retirement homes?” (y/n) rolled her eyes, “If anyone’s making the next list it’s me.”

“Really? And what’s going on your list hmm?” Tony questioned.

“Midtown.”

“The high school?”

She nodded, “Yeah, Peter and I talked about him maybe going to school eventually so I figure he should check it out first.”

“You wanna go to school?” Tony asked.

Peter blushed before nodding, “I’d like to try, I think it’d be good for me.”

“I think so too, but you have to be sure you’re ready before I get any of that started.”

“I’m sure I’ll be ready soon.”

“I’d be with him too,” (y/n) added, “So if anything happened I’m sure we’d be okay.”

Tony nodded, “Yeah, well I’ll see what I can do about that, in the meantime I think it’d be good for him to get a little more practice being out in public.”

(y/n) smiled ear to ear, squeezing his arm excitedly, “You got it daddio, Peter’s gonna be totally socially adept in no time.”

next chapter

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connordavidscamera · 4 years ago

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Fire Drill Promises | Connor Brashier

A/n: this isn’t part 2 of the last fic, but I am still working on that one. However, I had this idea and I had to write it. So I really hope you like it.

Summary: You meet a cute boy during a late night fire drill.

Warnings: fluff?

Word count: 2.3k

***

The first few weeks on campus are always a whirlwind of activities. However, there’s one that no one ever wants to participate in - especially not at three in the morning. Fire drills. It’s one thing to have fire drills that sound like a police siren is blaring right in your ear, but it’s another thing to have one that sounds like a police siren with bright white flashing lights and a woman’s voice that sounds like it’s not a fire, but the commencement of the purge.

So now here we are, a bunch of sleepless zombies, standing across the street from our dorms that are obviously not on fire, waiting for the campus police to come tell us that it’s safe to go back inside. Most of us are yawning and rubbing the sleep from our tired eyes. Others are curling into their blankets - even though it’s uncharacteristically hot for this time of night.

It feels like we’ve been out here for ten minutes at this point - good to know that if there actually was a fire, the campus police and fire department would take their sweet, precious time.

“Why are you the only one not totally annoyed by this?” A boy with crossed arms and sleepy eyes asks me. He’s not wearing a shirt, however I don’t know why that matters, most of the guys out here aren’t wearing one. He just.... Catches my eye a little more.

“I wasn’t asleep yet.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he grumbles.

I nod, “Yeah, I was working on an assignment.”

He hums, pushing his messy hair out of his pretty blue-green eyes. “I don’t want this to be too forward, but can I rest my head on your shoulder? I don’t think I can hold myself up that much longer.”

I laugh lightly, “Tell me your name first and the answer’s yes.”

He shakes his head with a sleepy smile. “I’m Connor. I live on the third floor.”

“Well Connor from the third floor, I’m y/n from the first floor. And yes, you can rest your head on my shoulder.”

He smiles gratefully before plopping his head on my shoulder, his hair tickling the side of my neck. “Y/n from the first floor, you are an angel,” he mumbles. “Gotta buy you something to thank you.”

I hum, “Bet you say that to all the girls that let you lay on their shoulder at 3 a.m.,” I joke

“Only if it’s during a fire drill,” he jokes back.

“Well that’s good to know.”

“Mhm, can I buy you coffee?”

I chuckle, “Right now? You are aware of the time right?”

He growls and I feel a chill run down my spine. “Not right now. Too sleepy to drive. In the morning though?”

“You really don’t have to.”

“You guys can come back inside now!” One of the officers yells from the main entrance of the dorms.

Connor sighs and picks his head up. “Well?” he says as we walk back to the dorm. “What do you say?”

“It’s just a shoulder, Connor. You don’t have to get me anything.”

“Come one, a good cup of coffee for a good shoulder.”

“Are you sure?” I ask as he holds the door open for me.

He nods. “You were kind enough to offer a stranger your shoulder. Now, to repay you, I would like to buy you a cup of coffee, and the opportunity to not be a stranger anymore.”

“Hmm… you are quite a sweet talker at this time, aren’t you?”

He looks down, his cheeks reddening. “Is that a yes?”

We stop in front of my dorm and I nod. “Sure.”

“Okay. My first class is at 10 tomorrow. Are you free before that?”

I nod, “My class is at 10 too.”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll pick you up at 8:45?”

I look down, trying to hide my, hopefully not too obvious, blush. “Um… yeah. That sounds good.”

“Alright. I’ll see you then, y/n from the first floor.”

“See you then, Connor from the third floor.”

---

I’m looking over my outfit for probably the hundredth time since putting it on. It’s just coffee, I tell myself. It’s not a big deal.

“Why have you been up for the past hour? Your pacing is not a good start to my morning,” my roommate complains from my door.

I cringe, “I’m sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”

She shrugs, “Eh, I’ve been up longer than you. Now why are you pacing?”

I sigh, “The fire alarm last night?”

“Mhm? What about it?”

“Well, I met a guy.”

“At three in the morning?”

“Yeah, well, he lives on the third floor. And he was really tired, and he asked to lay his head on my shoulder while we were waiting to go inside and -” “Was he cute?”

“The pacing wasn’t any indication?”

She laughs and rolls her eyes and walks into my room, plopping herself down on my desk chair. “So what’s the problem?”

“Is this outfit okay, or is it too ‘hey, you saw me severely sleep deprived with my hair in a mess and no makeup at three in the morning and now I’m trying to compensate for that by wearing a really deep v-neck?’”

“Well,” she tilts her head to the side. “It definitely says, ‘hey look at my boobs.’ But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I’d change the jeans though. The ones with the big rips at the knees. Makes it look a little more effortless. When is he supposed to get here?”

“Uh,” I check my phone that’s charging by my bed. “Six minutes,” I let out a deep breath, grabbing my jeans from the shelf of my closet. I run to the bathroom to change the jeans quickly and then come back out to look in the mirror. She was right. It did look better. “Okay, shirt. Yes or no?”

“I think you should wear one, yes.”

“Come on. Is it too much for coffee before class?”

“No. I think it’s perfect. So, what’s his name? Or did you guys skip the formalities?”

I roll my eyes, folding my jeans and tossing them on my bed. “His name is Connor. He has the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen in my life, and he somehow knows how to handle my late night sarcasm and we only spend, what, five minutes together.”

“Five minutes and you’re already smitten with the guy.”

“If you saw him you’d know.”

“Well I’ll see him in… four minutes,” she says, checking the time.

“Yeah, no. You can’t meet him.”

She gasps, “What? Why not?”

“Because two things could happen if you did. One, you could embarrass me. Or two, he could realize that of the two of us, he picked the wrong one to lay his shoulder on last night. So just, please?”

She frowns. “You’re wrong, but I guess if it’s really that important to you -”

“It is.”

“Then I’m going to shower. I will be out of your hair when he gets here.”

“Thank you, you’re wonderful.”

She hums and leaves my room, retreating back to hers to grab her stuff. “Oh, and y/n?” she says just as she’s about to enter the bathroom.

“Yeah?”

“You look beautiful,” she smiles, closing the door just as a knock sounds from our door.

I’m silently freaking out as I quickly grab my bag and phone before opening the door. “Hi,” I say quietly. He looks different - the same, but different. His eyes are greener in this light. His hair is only slightly styled, but it’s clear he’s run his hands through it a few times to loosen it up. But he still wears that sleepy smile, only lifting one corner of his mouth.

“Hi,” he rocks back and forth on his heels, his hands in his pockets. “You ready?”

I nod. “Mhm.” I close the door behind me and we both walk silently toward the main exit.

“So,” he speaks first. “Did you finally get some sleep last night?”

“Yeah, a little bit,” I answer. “What about you? I’m assuming you didn’t fall asleep on anyone else’s shoulder,” I tease.

He just laughs and shakes his head, “No, I didn’t. My roommate would probably have me committed if I tried to fall asleep on him.”

I nod, laughing too. “Well then I feel ultra special.”

“Well that’s because you are.”

I can feel my cheeks heat up, and I turn my head away from him, watching the people walking around us. “It’s a pretty morning,” I say, noting how the sun is just barely peeking through the clouds.

“Yeah, it is. So pretty,” he confirms, and when I dare to glance in his direction, he’s already looking back at me.

We don’t say much else on our walk to the on campus coffee shop, and if anyone was paying just the slightest attention to us, they could probably tell that we were tense and awkward. Which, I mean, we are, but I wish it wasn’t quite as obvious. When we get up to order, I reach for my wallet in my bag, but Connor stops me with a gentle hand over mine. “I’m paying, remember?”

“Um, right,” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Sorry,” I mumble as he hands his card to the barista. She’s an older woman, and she gives us a sweet smile.

“First date, loves?” she asks, handing Connor his card back.

My eyes widen and I start to stammer out, and just as I’m about say we’re not on a date, Connor speaks up.

“Yeah. First date. Can you tell we’re nervous?” he chuckles, stuffing his card in his wallet and into his back pocket.

“It’s good to be nervous. Means you care. I’ll have your drinks right out, honey,” she nods. “And don’t worry,” she says before we leave to find a seat. “It gets easier.”

I’m blushing. I know I am. I can feel it. And it just gets even worse when Connor takes my hand and leads me to a booth in the corner.

We both let out a deep breath once we’re seated. “So-”

“So-” We say at the same time.

“Oh,” he chuckles. “You first?”

“So this is a date?” I question, fiddling with the bracelet on my wrist.

“Well, I mean. I didn’t - if you’d like it to be?” he finally says.

I nod, “Okay… so what do people do on first dates?”

He laughs nervously, “I have no idea. I think, I think we’re doing it right. We’re supposed to be nervous, right?”

I shrug, “I would assume so?”

“Okay, then um… We should just get to know each other?”

“I think that’s how most people do it,” I tease.

“Good. Good, then uh… let’s do that?”

---

“Hey, you never told me how that coffee date went,” my roommate says a few days later while I’m washing my face, getting ready for bed. “Was it bad? Was he not as cute as you remembered? Was he an asshole? He was an asshole, wasn’t he?”

“God, no. No, I just - I don’t know. We’ve texted a little bit. I just haven’t seen him around since then I guess?”

She nods. “Mhm, and why not? Do you not want to? Come on, you have to give me all the horny details!”

I scoff, “There are no horny details! We had coffee, we talked and got to know each other a bit. Exchanged numbers and social media, and then he walked with me to class. And I haven’t seen him since. So? I don’t know. Maybe he came to his senses already.”

“Or he’s lost his mind.”

I roll my eyes, turning off the faucet and grabbing my towel to dry my face. “Look it’s not a big deal anyway.”

“Are you sure? You seemed pretty taken with him before coffee.”

“I’m sure, and no offense, I just really don’t feel like talking about it anymore?”

She nods. “Okay, well. I’m going to my friend's apartment. I won’t be back tonight, so I will see you tomorrow?”

I nod. “Okay, sure. Be safe.”

“Always.”

I’d only been asleep for twenty minutes when that damn fire alarm went off again, startling me awake. “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I groan, sliding out of bed, trying to find a pair of shoes without having to turn on the light. I grab my keys when that annoying woman’s voice goes off for the third time. I shuffle out of the building with a bunch of others that are also clearly as annoyed as I am, if not more.

I’m rubbing my hand over my face when a familiar voice sounds in front of me. “You look like you need a shoulder to rest your head on.”

I roll my eyes. “Is that observation, or are you offering?”

Connor laughs. “It’s an offer. Don’t have to take it though.”

I whine. “Come here before I pass out on the grass,” I reach for his arm and curl into his side when he’s close enough. I hum as he wraps his arm around me. “Thank you. You’re an angel.”

“Oh yeah?” Even though I’m not looking at him, I know he’s smirking.

“Yeah, gonna have to buy you a coffee to repay you.”

“Or… you could let me take you on another date? One that we both know is a date before the waitress asks us about it.” I look up at him through hooded eyes, “You’re really asking me on a date at two in the morning?”

“Well that depends on what your answer is.”

I nod. “Yes. I would like that… just,” I yawn and wrap my arms around his waist, burrowing into his chest. “Remind me that I said yes in the morning, okay?”

“Okay? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m afraid I’m dreaming.”

***

I hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

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#connor brashier #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb

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libsterslobsters · 4 years ago

Text

Ramble On

Summary: Late night phone calls are rarely good, especially when they come from someone known for texting. Or maybe, just this once, it's for the best

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x gem! enhanced! Reader

(Reader sees bits of the future, understands all languages, and processes information abnormally quickly)

Warnings: Strong language, tiny bit of angst, mostly fluff

Author's note: Reader is unnamed, but when I'm writing this character, I call her Violet.

*************************************************

As she rolls over, rearranging the covers around her for what must be the fiftieth time in an hour, she catches sight of the bedside clock. 2 a.m. She really needs to get to sleep. She has an interview in the morning, after all. The only problem: she can’t, too worried about what the outcome will be to get any rest.

There’s so much riding on this one meeting. If she gets the job, teaching English as a second language at an actual college in Bucharest as opposed to in her apartment, her whole life will change. It will no longer be a constant struggle to stay afloat, often leading to the choice of whether she’s going to pay her heating or electric bill this month, eat or have a place to live.

Applying for any job is a risk, because what if they look her up and a notification pops up on SHIELD’s radar? She’s forged her papers well, payed the right person to invent a background for her, but while it may hold up under the Romanians’ scrutiny, will it be enough to convince anyone lurking in the shadows that she’s a perfectly normal woman with nothing to hide? Or will there be a knock on her door in the middle of the night, followed by her being captured, herded onto a plane and then locked in a cell or worse?

Rolling over once again, she tries to convince herself that enough time has passed, she looks different enough from the scared eighteen year old that flagged the American government’s interest when she fool-hardily took a job as an intern translator and performed a little too well.

It’s not long before she’s tossing and turning once more, and this time her phone’s screen lights up. 2:30. Only three and a half more hours before she’s got to get up and prepare for the day ahead. She wishes she had some tea left, but she ran out three days ago. For a few minutes, she plays on her phone, rereading old messages between Barnes and herself, but eventually she has to stop. Thinking about him definitely isn’t helping her sleep, especially since she knows, no matter how much she wishes it were otherwise, he’ll never care for her the way she cares for him.

Chiding herself for allowing the foolish longing for something different, for the man who’s only ever been kind to her, treated her like a close friend, to want her, she tosses her phone to the side and closes her eyes. She’s completely unaware that, inadvertently, she’s hit the little icon of a telephone and on the other side of the city, a ringing noise is filling the air.

__________________________________________________________________________________

He’s not asleep when his phone rings. Not even so much as dozing. Still, it takes a few moments for Bucky to put together that the whirring noise is coming from his phone, and he should probably check to see who it is. As her name flashes on the screen, all weariness disappears, replaced at first by excitement, and then when he answers, receiving no reply, worry. It’s not like her to call this late, or really, to call at all without texting first to make sure he’s free (even though he’s told her multiple times to call whenever she likes, he’ll always answer). His first instinct is to rush over to her apartment and make sure she’s alright, but ultimately, a cooler head prevails. He should try to call her back first. Maybe they have a bad connection and she couldn’t hear him.

That’s what he does, and after the third ring, she picks up.

“Bucky?” It’s said in a voice that’s rough with disuse. “What’s going on? Are you alright?” That’s supposed to be his line.

“I’m fine. What about you?” He hears her yawn over the line.

“Dealing with some insomnia, but nothing huge.” Funny. She sounds exhausted.

“Is that why you called? You’re having trouble sleeping?”

“What?” He can imagine her brow furrowing in keeping with the confusion in her voice. “I didn’t call.”

“You did. Didn’t say anything, though.”

There’s a pause, and then-

“Crap. I’m sorry, Buck. I must’ve rolled over on my phone and accidentally called you.” Oh. Now it makes sense.

“It’s alright.”

He’s about to tell her that his night’s so much better for hearing her voice, but stops short at the last second. It’s been going on for a few months, these casual dates at one or the other of their apartments, occasionally a cheap restaurant in the city, or just out for a walk. Still, he hasn’t so much as kissed her yet, too worried that he’ll push too far and frighten her, or worse, make her feel like she has to do something she doesn’t truly want. She hasn’t made a move to speed things up either, so he’s waiting, taking things slow. It doesn’t bother him; he’s got all the time in the world on his hands, and frankly, he’s enjoying just getting to know all the little things about her. Still, he doesn’t want to come on too strong, so he simply says,

“Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.” She chuckles, but he can tell it’s faked for his benefit. “I’ll let you go now.”

“No, you won’t. You’re going to tell me what’s keeping you up so that maybe you can get some rest before the sun comes up.” He internally winces as his words. It sounds like he’s ordering her around.

“Alright.” She sighs. “I have that interview tomorrow-” He nods, even though she can’t see him. “-and I think I’m just too in my head about it, you know? I keep going over all the ways it could go south, and the more I try to push that aside, the more I think about it.”

He chooses his words carefully, knowing that it’s not just the possibility that she won’t get the job that’s worrying her.

“They don’t check things as closely here as they do back home. And even if they did decide to do some sort of background check, so far as all your paperwork is concerned, you’re just another college grad looking to put your teaching degree to use.”

He may have done a little reconnaissance, gotten into certain government buildings not open to the public and checked out exactly what they know about her just to make sure her forgeries would stand up, but she doesn’t need to know that. It would just worry her that he’s taking unnecessary risks over something she doesn’t consider a necessity.

“I know. It’s just a niggling feeling. Not a vision or anything. Just paranoia.”

Speaking of…

“Have you had any visions lately?” Sometimes they’re funny. Sometimes useful. Sometimes, downright bizarre.

“Yes. I’m having one right now of you sitting up in bed, talking on the phone when you should definitely be sleeping because you’re too polite to tell me I woke you up.”

“Must be something that hasn’t happened yet, because I’m actually lying down, and I was wide awake when you called.” He hopes that’ll be enough to assuage her guilt.

“Hm… I’m calling bullshit on that, Barnes. Have you looked at the time? It’s nearly three a.m.”

“It is, but that doesn’t change the fact that I was up.” She’s not going to believe him unless he explains. “I don’t sleep much.”

“Part of the super soldier thing?”

“I don’t think so. More like I’m afraid that if I close my eyes, they’ll get the drop on me and put me back on ice.” He definitely didn’t mean to say that last part, but now that it’s out there, he can’t take it back.

“Bucky, you need to sleep. That’s not healthy.” The corners of his lips turn up. All the way across the city, awake at three a.m., and she’s scolding him for not getting his beauty rest.

“Neither is worrying about a job interview that you’ve got in the bag since you’re a great teacher.”

They’d be stupid not to hire her. She literally speaks every language on the planet, and even though they won’t know that part, she’s still completely qualified. Plus, she’ll give this job her all, work harder than anyone else they could possibly hire, because she actually cares about the people she’s teaching. Them; not just their lives so far as it pertains to her classroom.

“How would you know that? You’ve never been one of my students.” Maybe not, but she’s taught him so much, like how to be alive again instead of just surviving. But, he should probably keep that to himself.

“Well, I already speak English.”

“Good point. Spanish, then?”

“Afraid I speak that one too.”

“French? Mandarin?”

“Yes and yes.”

“What about gibberish? Surely you’re not fluent in gibberish.”

He chuckles.

“You’ve got me there. I don’t speak it.”

“That’s too bad, because I’m only conversational.” Another yawn sounds from her side of the phone. “Alright, this time I really am letting you go.” Good. Hopefully, she’s finally able to get some rest now that she’s shifted some of the weight of her worries to him. “Goodnight, Bucky. Thanks for talking me down.”

“Goodnight, Doll. You’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”

As the call ends, his phone flashing the length of their conversation, Bucky finds that maybe, just maybe, he’ll get some sleep tonight after all.

#marvel #captain america #fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #the winter soldier #bucky fanfic

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coreastories · 4 years ago

Text

The Clock

Part 8 of Days and Nights of Forever

The turning point. She had already said yes. He only needed to hear it.

~*~

Ties in with Corea News, Modern Royals: 10 Times the King and Queen of Corea made ahjummas ugly-cry over their romance. The true story of the hug at the clock.

ON AO3 for download and kudos ;)

“I’m here. How are you? Where are you?”

Just like that, Tae-Eul felt the day’s tension leave her chest. She could breathe. She felt a smile tug at her lips but she repressed it because Kang Shin-jae was actually glaring at her for her audacity in answering the phone in his august presence. Jerk.

She turned away from him and walked out of his office. She leaned against the wall and propped her foot on it, not caring if her shoe left that white wall less than pristine. She hoped it did.

She had missed Gon. They hadn’t been able to see each other last week either. She spoke softly, “I’m sorry, I’m still on that case. We have a breakthrough now. This might end soon. But I might not be able to leave yet.” And that frustrated her more than the case and the helpful bastard in the office did. It was almost five. She should have wrapped things up by now if it weren’t for Mr. Uncooperative.

“I can come to you. Maybe I can help?”

Tae-Eul grinned, imagining Gon here facing off with Shin-Jae. “I’m sure you can. But this involves industrial espionage and they’re already iffy about letting us in on it. They want the investigation done by private firms. But their suspect is also our murder suspect so they need to cooperate.”

And honestly, she didn’t want Gon here, not with this Kang Shin-jae’s brand of condescension. She needed leads, not bullfights. “Look, can you wait at the hotel? I’ll come as soon as I finish.”

“All right. Saranghae.”

“Nado.” She knew he was still on the line--he always was, always waited for her that way-- but she ended the call. Then jumped a bit when someone spoke beside her.

“You expect me to trust you with this case when you take personal calls while on it?”

Tae-Eul pursed her lips and slowly put her phone back in her pocket. Stupid pocket. When she finally found her pocket-- and when she felt like she wouldn’t snap at the civilian-- she looked at him and smiled. She hoped it looked like a smile.

“Look, I understand your reluctance, sir, but I’d like to remind you that you might be this entire building’s lord and master but you’re not the boss of me. And you are not trusting me or my team with anything-- it’s our case too whether you like it or not. You need to cooperate if you don’t want us to charge you for obstruction of justice. Let’s get back to it, shall we?”

They got back to it. Their warrant came and that gave them more leeway in requesting documents and other materials. She tried not to flinch whenever she felt Kang Shin-jae’s gaze on her. He was Kang Shin-jae, the KIT Company’s vice-chairman and pain in the ass who wouldn’t let them have what they needed because it was entangled with the company’s current R&D project.

He wore an expensive suit--something she could recognize by sight by now because of Gon-- and looked and acted like he owned the place, which he did. Everything about him was different. Definitely not her former hyeong-nim.

“If you sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement, I’ll give you what you’re asking for. You. Just you. Not your entire team, or the NDA just dissolves itself.”

Tae-Eul raised her eyes to heaven for the-- she’d lost count how many times. “As we told you already, sir, we can’t do NDAs. We might need to disclose something for the investigation.”

“And we’re back where we started.”

Tae-Eul smiled and bowed, gritting her teeth. She motioned for Jang-mi and the rest to drop everything. “Thanks so much for your time.”

It was 10pm. Five hours of looking through files and getting nothing new except the confirmation that their suspect had killed their victim because the victim had found out what the suspect was doing. Typical motive. She could close this case if only she hadn’t come up against this wall that had the face of her former best partner.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful,” Kang Shin-Jae said, and Tae-Eul paused at the door, nearly walking into Jang-mi’s back, because they had all paused.

She heard Jangmi’s stomach growl. She slapped the guy on the back in second-hand embarrassment.

“I really am,” Kang Shin-Jae continued. Tae-Eul felt her heart soften a bit, because this man might not be her hyeong-nim--of course he wasn’t-- but he was a good guy. Just a little stiff about his R&D. Understandable enough. “I’ll let you know if we find anything of his whereabouts, or anything that might help you at all. If you go to the cafeteria, they’ll serve you dinner. It’s free. They’re open 24 hours so there’s no need to hurry.”

“Thanks. That’s nice of you.” She inclined her head at him, and he smiled and looked like he wanted to say something else, but she pushed Jangmi forward and followed him out.

She just wanted to get to the hotel and to Gon.

She was tempted to attach the police beacon on top of her car so she could speed her way there, but she could use the drive to calm down. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to cases taking their sweet time. She was just… she missed Gon.

Last weekend, this case had broken wide open with national news coverage. The victim had been a beloved teacher for decades-- with the nosiness to match, which got her in trouble-- and the public were rabid for blood. So Tae-Eul hadn’t been able to get away.

She missed Gon.

So when she got to their suite and didn’t find him, all her frustration returned and she felt her eyes grow hot with tears.

He had left a note on the counter.

“I’m so sorry, nae sarang. I’m checking on something. If I’m not back and you find this note, it means I had to take care of it. I’ll be back tonight, or tomorrow morning. If you like, you can meet me at the obelisks around 6am. If that’s too early for a Sunday, just wait here. I’ll be here when you wake up. There’s dak-galbi in the microwave.”

She slapped the note back on the counter and went to shower, trying not to be furious that he hadn’t waited, that it had taken her five extra hours to get here, that he wasn’t here, and…

She wished she could just go to him.

She loved what they had but it grated at times like this. It grated so much that she couldn’t go to him or simply meet him at some late night restaurant whenever she got off work.

And something she tried not to dwell on was the fact that if anything happened to him, she wouldn’t even know, unless Jo Yeong decided to have mercy on her and cross the worlds to tell her. If he could even use the flute at all.

It always made her chest and stomach clench, and she tried not to think of it. They hadn’t talked about it yet, not when they’d just gotten together, in an unspoken understanding of not voicing what they feared.

What was Gon checking on, and what was so bad about it that it had taken him away from her? Was he all right?

She waited what seemed like all night. Before closing her eyes to fatigue, she looked at the clock: 2:14am. She woke up again around 4am. At that point, she got out of bed and dressed to go home. She was too wired. She could use a workout at the dojo before heading to the bamboo grove.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When two hours came and went without Tae-Eul coming through the door and without a phone call, Gon sighed and pinched the nerve flicking between his eyes.

This was one of those times he really hated that he lost Jo Eun-sup in this new timeline. Gon had no one to call to ask about Tae-Eul. He couldn’t ask her dad-- Gon had tried that once and lost three hours to samgyupsal.

He turned on the TV and flicked through the channels, stopping on the evening news when he thought he saw Tae-Eul-- and it was. Tae-Eul and Jangmi and two other detectives enter Kang Shin-jae’s building. The footage wasn’t the best but he’d recognize her anywhere.

And it was Kang Shin-jae on the news. Well, his company. A source had leaked to media that the recent murder case in Jongno was linked to KIT Company. The suspect was a former employee.

The news cycled through its short footages. Gon saw the blurred and yellow-taped murder scene, the Jongno police station facade, the KIT building exterior, and then that footage again of Tae-Eul and her team in plain clothes entering the building this afternoon, confirming the news item’s claim that KIT Company was connected somehow.

Gon turned off the TV. He took a deep breath and also tried to turn off his returning and now absolutely ridiculous resentment of Kang Shin-jae.

He didn’t resent the man. Why would he? He went to the kitchen and fixed something. It was a good night for stir-fry. He took too much satisfaction chopping the vegetables.

When another two hours went without Tae-Eul, Gon was at the end of his patience.

He didn’t like what he was feeling. It was ugly and making his jaw clench and he didn’t want Tae-Eul to come to him in this state. She didn’t deserve it.

So he dashed off a note and left before he changed his mind or decided to do anything stupider, like go to the KIT building.

Back at the palace, a couple of court maids dissolved into tears when they made the mistake of getting in his way. He had only looked at them venomously, but that was apparently enough. Lady Noh should hire women with more backbone. He snorted. Lady Noh said nothing and only looked at him in reproach. But she didn’t pry. She did bring in a plate of petit fours.

He ignored them and carried on working until he realized the light in the room had changed. His neck was stiff and his eyes were sticky and fuck it all, it was a quarter to five a.m.

He’d told Tae-Eul she could meet him or he’d go to her at six.

He stood in the shower and tried to get his thoughts in order. He turned the water cold because there was a heat in his chest he couldn’t dislodge. He hadn’t seen her last weekend and this one was nearly over and here he was wasting time feeling what? Grouchy that he hadn’t seen her? How old was he, fifteen?

Jealous that she’d spent half the night with Kang Shin-Jae?

Christ, it sounded ridiculous in his own head. Kang Shin-Jae was practically a stranger to her.

He was going to fix this.

Secretary Mo was in his suite’s living room, just about to peer into his bedroom to see if he was done in the shower. Gon swore. “No.”

“I’m sorry, Pyeha. A Japanese vessel apparently sank a Corean fishing vessel. They’re saying it’s an accident and they’ve rescued the passengers but now Japanese officers are trying to bargain for the release of our fishermen. The Minister of Defense is on the line, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs and the Prime Minister are also waiting.”

Gon took the calls in his bathrobe. He asked questions and gave answers. If Secretary Mo noticed he was more curt than usual, she didn’t say anything. When he reached the Prime Minister, he only told her he trusted her completely and ended the call.

Despite all that and Secretary Mo's matching terrifying efficiency, it was still already a quarter past seven when he finally came out of the obelisks. He found Tae-Eul seated in one of the benches in the grove.

Glaring at him. And with dark smudges under her eyes. He knelt in front of her. “I’m so sorry. There was an incident that kept me. A Japanese--”

“Let’s just go. And I’m tired. Maybe we can sleep for a bit?”

Gon stroked the smudges under her eyes with both thumbs. “Haven’t you slept?”

She pursed her lips, which she did when she chose not to say what was on her mind, still looking at him darkly but her expression softening by the second. “You look like you haven’t either.”

That just reminded Gon of his idiocy. He was furious with himself.

He took Tae-Eul’s hand and stood up, gently pulling her with him. She leaned on him once she was on her feet. His chest tightened with love for this woman and he tucked her against his side with his arm. He walked them toward the obelisks. “We can sleep at the palace.”

The manpasikjeok hadn’t sent them to any other time for awhile now, and he was glad it didn’t choose today to surprise them. Tae-Eul napped on the boat, and even with that she was still so sleepy, shielding her eyes from the morning’s sunlight when they docked and then made their way to the palace.

By this time, Gon had devised a completely private and empty route to his chambers, so Tae-Eul didn’t have to hide as she half-walked, half-leaned on him, half-asleep with her cheek on his shoulder. She really was exhausted.

If his guilt was a pinch before, it was a vise now, squeezing him.

In his--their-- bedroom, Tae-Eul turned down the covers for herself, took off her shoes, then shimmied out of her jeans. He half-smiled-- those long, gorgeous legs would never stop taking his breath away-- and then tucked her in, bending over to kiss her on the forehead, her tired eyes, her nose, her cheeks, and finally, her lips.

She kissed him back sleepily, her thumb anchored at his cheek and her fingers doing a lazy, gentle stroking on his neck. This was what he’d needed. He felt the vise in his stomach losing its hold, he felt silly about every other ridiculous thought that had passed through his head.

But she was sleepy, and he drew back to look at her. Her eyes were already closed. Without opening them, she patted the space next to her on the bed.

He was just about to get in when the phone in the living room rang. Tae-Eul winced slightly at the noise.

“I’m sorry. That’s probably Secretary Mo. Something’s happened this morning.”

Tae-Eul had opened her eyes now. “Is everyone all right? Are you all right?”

Discounting my fit of idiotic jealousy? “Of course I’m alright, and our people should be,” he said. “Let me answer the phone. I’ll be back.”

Except he wasn’t able to come back for twelve hours.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tae-Eul woke up to Lady Noh peering down at her from beside the bed, having gently shaken Tae-Eul awake. The old lady was also feeling her forehead and cheek now.

“Are you ill? Why are you so sleepy?”

“No. Just sleep-deprived.” Tae-Eul realized she could smell food. “I brought your lunch. Come and eat.” “Where’s Gon?”

Lady Noh no longer flinched at that, but she did look at Tae-Eul in sympathy. “He went with the Navy to try to intimidate those idiots into releasing our people.” Lady Noh picked up the tray and placed it before Tae-Eul before she could protest. “Eat. Then sleep some more.”

Tae-Eul groaned at how the older lady was looking at her. “Lady Noh, I’m not pregnant.”

“We don’t know that,” Lady Noh said, then she smiled impishly and left, leaving Tae-Eul blushing on the bed.

Gon hadn’t even slept yet. She knew that sleep-deprived look. She reached for her phone--in this world-- and called him. He answered immediately.

“Have you just woken up?”

“Like a ba-- yes, I did. Are you on your way back?”

“That’s what I want to know myself,” he said, his voice snappish, something she had never heard before. “Can you wait a bit more?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Yes, you do. You can cut ties with me.”

“What?” She had said what she’d said as a joke. Waiting was like their brand. They waited for each other. She scratched her neck. But he was.... angry? And apparently he wasn’t done.

“Yes. That case that took you away for two weekends now. Maybe you like that case so much because you get to spend it with Kang Shin-jae in his palace.”

Tae-Eul took the phone away from her ear for a second and stared at it in disbelief. Then she put it back. “I’ll talk to you when you’re making sense.”

She hung up on him. That would teach him.

She told herself she was amused and not… not angry.

She vented it on her food and mutilated her fish and side dishes before eating them all because feeling like this made her hungry.

Lady Noh came back and seemed inordinately satisfied with her spotless bowls. Tae-Eul felt like pulling her hair. “Lady Noh, I’m not pregnant. What happened with Gon?”

Lady Noh would never sit down on the king’s bed, but she did lean a hip on it, since it was just at the right height. “We got news this morning that a Japanese boat had sunk a Corean fishing boat. Accident, they say, and they rescued everyone onboard. But then the Japanese Navy got ahold of them and someone in that godforsaken government is trying to use the fishermen as a bargaining chip. Ridiculous.”

“They’re okay? The fishermen? No casualties?”

Lady Noh nodded. “It seemed too neat, if you ask me. Accident, my foot.”

“What are they trying to bargain about?”

“Who knows. We have so much they want.”

“Wait, you said you got the news this morning? Not last night?”

“Yes. Well, I don’t know. He was really furious last night. I thought it must have been because of this, because it kept him from you.”

Tae-Eul blinked at the old woman, trying to make sense of what she just heard.

When Lady Noh saw Tae-Eul wasn’t going to say anything else, she left with the tray. Tae-Eul got up from bed, went to her dresser, and put on silk pajama bottoms, and then unconcealed the television in the living room suite.

Either the news outlets were less informed, or they were truly saying Corea only got wind of the “accident” this morning, and assuring the people that the Ministers of Defense and Foreign Affairs had acted quickly.

The king was with them now to lay terms himself and act on the royal family’s long-standing promise to be the country’s first line of defense from foreign maneuvering and malcontent.

So Gon must have had another pressing matter on top of this one? Add to being sleep-deprived and no wonder he was snappy. A fraction of her mind-- a tiny fraction-- was wondering if that other “pressing matter” was named Kang Shin-Jae, but since it was already making her eyes roll, she hoped not.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“Yes. That case that took you away for two weekends now. Maybe you like that case so much because you get to spend it with Kang Shin-jae in his palace.”

His brain was already backfiring and imploding with warning even as his mouth actually finished saying all that. Suddenly, the railing of the navy vessel looked so inviting. He could hit his head on it. Or he could climb it and jump overboard and maybe the Pacific could knock some sense into him.

“I’ll talk to you when you’re making sense.”

The line went dead.

Gon’s arm dropped like dead weight at his side and it was only thanks to his phone’s ribbed case that it didn’t slip from his slack hand.

And he could see Yeong giving him his most judgmental side-eye to date.

Gon closed his eyes.

“I can’t believe you said that,” said Yeong quietly.

Gon closed his eyes harder. “I need sleep. I need to get out of here. I need to go beg Tae-Eul to forgive me for what I said. I need to--”

“Shut up,” said Yeong, more quietly. Gon turned around to see the Ministers of Defense and Foreign Affairs approaching.

For the moment, he ignored the fact that his Unbreakable Sword had told him again to shut up. Gon straightened his back. “Everything to our satisfaction, gentlemen?”

“Yes, Pyeha, they just want their own minister to arrive first and officially hand over the passengers.”

“What?”

Minister Kim leaned back from Gon’s quiet growl. “They want to make it official. Since Your Majesty is here, they couldn’t be completely without a representative from their own government.”

Gon was about to say he can bloody well leave when he realized he couldn’t, and shouldn’t. “Very well. Are they coming by air?”

“By boat, Pyeja. I’m sorry for the delay. The minister apparently has an ear condition that doesn’t let him travel by air.”

“Then why is he coming in the first place-- why couldn’t someone else-- fine.”

He was whining so he stopped. He looked at Yeong to get some sympathy but only got another glaring side-eye.

“Go ahead, let me have it, then,” Gon said, when he and Yeong were alone again.

“Pyeha, I’m sure nothing I tell you is worse than what your own head is already spewing. What did she say?”

“Only said she’ll talk to me when I’m talking sense.”

Yeong nodded in what seemed like agreement and approval.

Gon pressed his fingers against his eyes.

“Can you really see yourself living with that option?” Yeong asked quietly, not looking at him but at the horizon.

“What?”

“The one you told her. Breaking things off with you. Choosing Kang Shin-Jae in his palace.”

“You don’t need to quote me.”

Yeong just cut his eyes at him.

“No,” said Gon. “No.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? That possibility, that threat, no matter how implausible with Tae-Eul’s love for him, was enough to shake him and send him incoherent and mindless with rage.

His jaw clenched. It would be so simple. Tae-Eul could have a good life with no complications, no obligations. She could have someone daily, not on weekends, and she could go to the man anytime she wanted, and they could have that domestic simplicity of living together, waking up together, every day.

Everything Gon wanted but couldn’t give her at the present, not with their separate worlds and separate lives.

He was a mathematician. His brain could see and calculate figures in an instant. Kang Shin-Jae was a better equation for Tae-Eul. He was in her world. That alone was a figure Gon couldn’t match.

His phone buzzed in his hand, and it brought him outside his own head.

The text message was short, to the point. Tae-Eul. With her amazing ability to read through him, apparently even across the ocean when he was at sea.

His eyes stung. And he convinced himself it was the salt air. Not his profound awe of this woman fate had given him.

I love you. I’ll see you at the clock.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lady Noh had brought Seung-ah over when Tae-Eul saw the latest update on the situation Gon was smoothing over, so both women heard Tae-Eul swear vehemently.

She blushed. But they took it in stride.

Seung-ah grinned. Tae-Eul thought the girl was just too fascinated with the king’s secret girlfriend just now. Lady Noh had wanted Seung-ah and Park In-yeong, who were sort of like her protegees, to know of Tae-Eul, because Tae-Eul needed it.

It was like a shield against scandal: Tae-Eul had the highest court lady who was practically the king’s grandmother, the Royal Public Affairs Office, and the only female member of the Royal Guard, on her side. Tae-Eul saw the sense in it.

And right now, she was thankful for it.

“He’ll be stuck there for another five hours?!” she ranted. “They’re waiting for the Japanese Defense minister.”

“They’re posturing. His Majesty soundly kicked their ass-ets again in this round,” said Seung-ah, adjusting her vocabulary when Lady Noh looked at her. “So they’re posturing to save face, making the king wait.”

Tae-Eul sighed.

“Do you want to take a walk with me?” Seung-ah asked. “I can show you around and you can tell me more about your cases.”

“Cases” often included questions about Gon, just bordering on invasive but never actually crossing the line. Tae-Eul was trained as a detective and she still learned questioning techniques from Seung-ah.

“All right. I can’t stay here all day. Just let me get dressed.”

Inside the en suite, she debated for a couple of seconds whether she should call Gon. She was worried about him, sleep-deprived and out on a ship under the sun and she wanted to let him know she was behind him one hundred percent, whether or not he was in some snit about Kang Shin-Jae.

Especially if he was in a snit about Kang Shin-Jae.

But if she was in a snit and stuck somewhere she’d rather not be, she wouldn’t want him to bear the brunt of her temper either. So instead of calling, she should send a text.

I love you. Don’t worry about me. Don’t think about Kang Shin-Jae. You’re the only one I want and I’m happy to be right here with you even if you’re far away from me. I’m going out with Seung-ah. I saw everything on the news so I know you’re still stuck there. I’ll see you at the clock.

She frowned at that message and edited it to the most important bits that would actually accomplish what she wanted for him.

She didn’t want him to think Kang Shin-Jae was still on her mind. She didn’t want him to dwell on the fact that they weren’t with each other right now, another weekend gone. She didn’t want him to worry, period. About the men in her world or her going out and about in his.

I love you. I’ll see you at the clock.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was dark and the clock was like a moon in the street when she saw his tall form coming toward her. Members of the Royal Guard were already scattered around them, probably long before she even saw Gon, which would explain the privacy and quiet they suddenly had, even in that public and much beloved part of the palace grounds.

She stood up as he neared her and her arms came up almost of their own accord when she saw his face. When he pulled her into his arms, hers came around his waist, and she held him tight, feeling him shake a little and then go still as he sighed against her hair.

She felt his hand cradling her head and heard him whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

She patted his back and squeezed him over his soft coat. “Of course you didn’t.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Will you be my queen? Will you let me be the one to fill your days?”

He had asked her that question so many times now but Tae-Eul still felt her heart clench every time he did. She used her grip on his coat to push him a little so they could part enough for her to see his face, and for him to see hers when she said, “Not today.” And just before his face shuttered at her usual reply, she added, “But soon.”

He didn’t smile like she’d expected, didn’t speak, only looked at her so intensely Tae-Eul felt her blood pound on her chest, neck and cheeks.

When she was about to tug him at the waist again to demand he say something, he brought one hand to her cheek and said, “Do you mean that? Will it make you happy?”

And Tae-Eul felt herself soften in his arms, felt her eyes brim with love for this man fate gave her. Because when she said Soon, she’d expected him and his mathematician mind to ask, When?

But no, he was only-- he only ever thought of her happiness. And maybe she should, too. Her happiness and his. Because he deserved it.

She nodded, nodded hard and with conviction because she was daring any gods out there to interfere. “Of-- of course it will,” and her voice trembled a little. So she cleared her throat and said more firmly, and simply, “Yes.”

He smiled.

----------------------------------------------------------

____________________________________

Added that line from the novel. But pretty much completely the original outline. Whew. Let me know whatcha think. Homestretch. :)

#CoreaNews #CoreaFiction #the king eternal monarch #the king: eternal monarch

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bouncyirwin · 5 years ago

Note

“This wasn’t meant to be a date, but we’ve had such a good time and now it’s 2 a.m. and I should really go home…” for my ItaSaku pining heart because I’m tired of being tired and want to wrap myself in something warm and fluffy and maybe a bit smutty. Thank you in advance❤️ stay safe!

Hey love, I’m sorry you’ve been feeling so down! I’m not taking drabbles anymore but I made an exception for you, I hope you feel better soon ❤️

You can find this one-shot on AO3!

Word Count: 2,150 words Rating: T

Night Owl

The Uchiha compound was quiet at night.

Sakura wasn’t sure why she found that surprising or what she had expected in the first place. But at two in the morning, it was quiet. Dark, and peaceful, and not at all like the bustling sector it was in the daylight.

She had assumed, in an unconscious way not entirely rooted in rationality, that the Uchiha were alert and aware at all times. She had no doubt, of course, that if she were to run down to a police post she would find officers on night shift.

But from her perch on the rooftop of the clan head's home—sitting with his son no less—she could see nothing but the magical stretch of the starry nights.

Not a sound, not a light, not a soul.

She and Itachi, and the warm spot between them fanned by their body heat.

Itachi had never looked so peaceful.

She knew Itachi perhaps better than his own parents did. Sakura knew that torment haunted him every waking hour of his day. She also knew that he craved peace in his marrow.

Now she wondered why she hadn’t considered him to be a night owl before. He certainly appeared to be, drinking tea on his rooftop without a shred of worry for the approaching day or the receding night.

And why should he? In this silence, in this protective cloak of suspended night, it was hard to worry about the passage of time or a tomorrow that felt forever away.

It wasn’t meant to be a date, regardless.

Sakura had only swung by the Uchiha compound to heal the broken leg of a high profile elderly in the clan. On her way out, she was accosted by a young woman. The woman had heard from her aunt that Sakura would be here, and was ordered to call her. It turned out the woman's sister had gone into labour more than fifteen hours ago and they wanted Sakura's help.

One might be surprised by this staggering show of trust from a clan such as that of the Uchiha. Except everyone knew that Itachi Uchiha, future head of their clan, was courting Sakura Haruno.

As far as those women were concerned Sakura was already one of them. Better yet, the future matriarch of the Uchiha.

It was almost midnight by the time Sakura passed the little boy, healthy and wailing like no tomorrow, to his exhausted mother to cradle.

She hadn’t expected to find Itachi waiting at the doorstep by the time she was escorted out. But then again she hadn’t been surprised. He said he wanted to walk her home—not at all unusual, Itachi in all the time that she had known him never failed to be a gentleman.

Sakura glanced around the quieting street, and back at her boyfriend whom she hadn’t seen in a week, and found that she didn’t want to leave yet.

And so they ended up here. Itachi’s family had already retired to bed, and Sakura was glad for it. She didn’t wish to explain to the foreboding Fugaku Uchiha what she was doing with his son after midnight. In their own house no less.

Not that they were doing anything yet. Unless Fugaku took a strange offence to the way Itachi’s pinky danced along the side of her hand resting on the cushion between them.

Sakura didn’t want to think of Fugaku anyway. He might approve of her relationship with his son, support it even, but Sakura couldn’t deny the resentment that filled her every time she remembered the way he treated Itachi in his youth.

She sighed softly.

Itachi looked at her. “I hope I’m not keeping you.”

That made the ghost of a smile tickle the corners of her mouth. “Of course not,” she reassured, and then added, “and didn’t I blatantly invite myself here?”

“You know you’re welcome here any time of the day,” Itachi said, his hand covering hers, calloused and protective.

It was so innocuous and yet it made her heart flutter. “Not sure the elders would approve of seeing us like this,” Sakura joked lightly, leaning against Itachi’s side.

In response, he leaned against her, resting his cheek atop her hair. “When did the elders approve of anything anyway?” He muttered over a huff, half-breathy, half-laughing.

“Good point,” Sakura agreed, “knowing them they would accuse me of enticing you.”

“Maybe. Or they could accuse me of tainting your honour,” Itachi mused, “In which case they might suggest immediate betrothal.”

Sakura looked up at him curiously, “You sound awfully calm for someone who could be solicited into marrying me at a moment’s notice.”

Itachi blinked down at her, like she was being deliberately obtuse. “It would be an honour to be married to you.”

Sakura stared at him, uncomprehending. “How can you say that with a straight face?”

That earned her a smile. “Because it’s true. What did you think my intentions were anyway when we entered this relationship?”

Sakura had wondered that many times before. At first, she supposed Itachi wanted to appease his parents by picking a respectable woman. They happened to be close friends already, so that made her an obvious choice.

And then she thought Itachi was probably looking for a good match if he had to spend the rest of his life with someone. And they were a good match, no doubt there. “I don’t know, it did occur to me that the final goal could be marriage though.”

“I understood from previous discussions that you were fine with that. Are you having any second thoughts?” He wondered in that same matter-of-fact tone he used to discuss the weather. The lightness of it, however, betrayed his true emotions. It mattered to him a great deal what Sakura's answer would be.

Sakura immediately shook her head. “Not at all. Of course not. I did worry about Sasuke at first, but... I think you’re the one for me so ...”

Itachi leaned down to press their lips together sweetly, “As do I, my love.”

As always, Sakura blushed at his affection. She couldn’t ever seem to help it.

His arm wiggled out from between them and drew her closer to his chest.

Sakura relaxed into his embrace. He always smelled like sweets and spices and incense. A product of visiting shrines and eating dango and spending time cooking with his mother, she supposed.

Itachi matted her hair back, tucking wayward strands behind her ear. “Would you come over tomorrow for lunch?“

“I have surgery at noon so I might be a little late,” Sakura said, dejected at the prospect. Itachi and Mikoto made the best food.

“Dinner then?” Itachi wondered, ever unrelenting.

“I think I can do dinner,” Sakura said, mentally reviewing her schedule. “Is eight fine?”

“Perfect,” Itachi squeezed her against him. “We can have Anmitsu for dessert.”

A secret smile graced her lips at the mention of her favourite dessert. Her arms wrapped around Itachi’s middle in appreciation. “You always have wonderful ideas.”

He snagged a strand of pink hair and twisted it around his index. “Not sure about always ... I was thinking the other day we should pack up and run away for a couple of weeks.”

Sakura giggled. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that. I could definitely use a break.”

“Hmm, you work so hard.” His lips pressed against her hair. “... don’t you have an early shift tomorrow?”

“Seven a.m.,” Sakura confirmed with a soft sigh, basking some more in his closeness.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home,” he told her. “You need to sleep.”

Sakura groaned, but he was right as always. So she let him pull her up to her feet and together they jumped across rooftops, steps silent.

Once beyond the Uchiha compound, they walked leisurely, Itachi’s fingers slipping between hers. He was always more affectionate in the absence of prying eyes. It made Sakura wish they could take late night walks forever if it meant having this intimacy.

She watched the shifting shadows of alleyways and cats on a late-night prowl. Some houses had their dim lights on—perhaps night owls themselves?

They arrived at her doorstep too soon, and she instantly missed the feeling of Itachi’s palm against hers when his hand slipped away.

As she unsealed the door and fumbled with the key, she asked him hesitantly, “... want to come in?”

When she looked at him again his eyes were unreadable.

“You can stay if you want,” she tacked on hastily.

The corners of Itachi’s mouth twitched up faintly and he reached to caress her cheek. “I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” she said, voice thick, and cupped his hand against her cheek. “Plenty of room for you next to me.”

His smile warmed, “Promise me you’ll sleep?”

“I promise,” she enunciated for effect, dragging his hand off her cheek and using it to tug him into her apartment

Itachi followed willingly, kicking his shoes off at the door and treading together through the dark living room. He paused at her bedroom door, “I’ll make tea while you change?”

“Sure,” she said kindly, and let him go.

Her pyjamas were still on the bed where she discarded them that morning, and after rooting through her closet she found one of Naruto’s old sweatpants for Itachi to borrow.

He returned minutes later with a steaming mug, which he handed to her. Sakura passed the sweatpants to him, “Naruto left those once upon a time. They should fit you.”

“Naruto?” he sounded puzzled, “since when did Naruto stay nights?”

“Since your brother gave us a scare by leaving the village and poor Naruto started having nightmares that I would leave too.” Sakura took her tea mug and settled under the sheets of her bed, sipping it tentatively.

She tried not to make it obvious that she was watching Itachi out of the corner of her eye. He was a vision of lean sinewy muscles as he chucked off his shirt and exchanged his pants for the ones Sakura gave him.

He stretched his legs. “A bit short, but they’ll do," he remarked casually.

Sakura patted the space next to her. “Come on then, I demand kisses and cuddles.”

Itachi chuckled, sounding even more carefree here than he had been on that roof. He happily crawled onto the space next to her, lithe muscles and deadly grace, and extracted the mug from her grasp. He placed it on the nightstand before drawing her into his arms. “Sleep,” he told her softly.

“And where are my kisses?” She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Ah, my bad,” Itachi chuckled again, lips fluttering over her forehead in answer. They pressed again over the corner of her eyelid, before finally meeting her own.

Sakura hummed, content with the gentle lips that kissed slowly and unhurriedly. The pad of his thumb stroked along her jawline, and when she parted her lips he met her tongue with his.

It took her a moment to realise the growing fogginess of her thoughts was in fact desire, not lethargy. When Itachi made to pull away, she found herself sinking her fingers in his hair and holding him in place.

He made a noise in his throat, a little like he was surprised, but he sunk back into her kiss without complaint. The same hand that was tracing along her jaw landed on her hip and pressed them closer together.

“What happened to sleep?” Itachi rasped against her mouth. The tenor of his voice was so wonderfully throaty it made her shiver.

Sakura’s hand dragged appreciatively down his bared torso, feeling along the wicked ridges of his muscles. “We’ll sleep plenty when we die.”

“Tsk,” Itachi responded, but he had already moved along to lavishing her throat with kisses. “I only promised cuddles and kisses.”

Sakura arched against the hot sensation of his lips descending her body, her eyes closing. “K-kisses sound great,” she strangled out when he sucked her nipple through her shirt.

The hand on her hip dragged up and down her thigh, tugging her closer and slipping his thigh between her legs. “My, I’d swear you brought me back here for some nefarious intentions,” Itachi worked his way up her throat again, and back to her mouth.

His tongue dipped between her lips once more to caress her own and she ground her hips against him.

With each wicked glide of his tongue, sleep lost some more of its importance. And with every roll of her hips against his thigh, it drifted further and further off her mind.

Her last coherent thought was what she could possibly say to Shizune tomorrow when she showed up looking like a zombie.

After all, she couldn’t exactly tell her she had Itachi Uchiha in her bed keeping her up all night, could she?

#itasaku #itachi uchiha #sakura haruno #one-shot #fanfiction #bouncyirwin writes

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unstoppableforcce · 5 years ago

Text

a new dawn

—CHAPTER 2: to fall asleep

pairing: Poe Dameron x reader (modern au)

previous part | next part | masterlist

a/n: aw I feel bad when I write this stuff but it’s a solid story and I really feel it when I’m writing it. more cute moments, flashbacks and growth to come !

What was he doing?

A phone call at 4 a.m. was one thing, showing up at your apartment after a night out that you said you couldn’t make? That was another thing entirely and what was he doing?

It was exactly what Finn told him not to do when he helped him into the lyft, and yet here he was. He was at your door, he was more than a little tipsy and mad at himself for being there at all. This was such a bad idea. You didn’t deserve this.

And he wasn’t going to knock. That made it okay.

He was just going to stand there, staring at your foot mat, and definitely not knocking or using the key that he still had to head straight in.

He definitely wasn’t going to knock—

“Just a second…” You called from within your apartment and it was only then that he realized he had knocked, his hand acting against his better judgement.

He could still just walk away. He could turn away and pretend he was never there. It would make it less weird and desperate. You wouldn’t know and he wouldn’t seem like he was, drunk and showing up at your door beyond any reasonable hour.

He could still leave. Taking a step back, he put his hands back like heavy weights into his pockets and almost fully pulled back into the hall by the time you made it to the door.

There was no running away now.

Stars, you looked tired. And the cash in your hand, clearly you were expecting someone else.

“Poe?”

He snapped back to himself, rubbing over his face and realizing all at once that he needed to shave and that you looked worried. That look was all it took to sober him the rest of the way up.

“I shouldn’t be here…” He pinched at the bridge of his nose, “I’m sorry I—”

“No, no it’s okay…”

“It’s not, I’m sorry I—”

“Poe—”

“Did one of you order from Thai Classic?”

Both of you turned immediately to the poor delivery man standing in your hall who had approached quietly enough that neither of you seemed to notice.

Poe flinched away, turning his back as he sniffled and tried to compose himself. He shouldn’t be there. He kept repeating it in his head. He shouldn’t be there. But at the same time, he could still hear the echoing downpour in his head.

By the time he turned back, you had already accepted the food and tipped the delivery man, sending him on his way. Now, you were just stood in the doorway with your bag of food in hand, watching Poe with a carefully scanning stare.

“Do you want to come inside?” You asked lowly, leaning back against the doorway. “I bought plenty of food, I got so used to sharing food with you… I still buy your order, so if you want—”

“I think I should go…” He fought with a voice much more hoarse than it was thirty seconds before.

“I think you came over for a reason.”

Did he? He was drinking, he was sad, it was raining, he missed you and having a conversation with you, no matter how brief this morning, made it all so much worse. But was that reason enough?

“Poe, come inside.”

He nodded, following in behind you as you turned back into your apartment and carefully shutting the door behind him, locking the locks with an ease of familiarity. You set the food on your counter and he silently followed behind, within seconds, settling back into a system he knew all too well.

He grabbed the plates, you grabbed the utensils and pulled the food from the bag, laying it all out. All of it was silent, but perfectly in sync, even if he was further from sober than he was used to.

It was painfully familiar. A pain that sank his heart immediately.

He could see the rain right out the window above your sink, it was dark and it was late but he could still see droplets hitting the window, illuminated by the streetlights down below. It sent a chill up his spine, shuddering him from his skin almost—

“How was Finn’s thing?” You muttered, snapping him from his thoughts again and lessening the sound of rain he could hear. You took the plate when he passed it to you and he felt he was almost settling back into routine with you.

“It was fine…” He sighed, looking at the array of food, exactly what you used to order when you were together. He wanted to think it was some kind of sign, tapping into something in your psyche or something, but he also knew you liked stealing off his plate and that using the app meant you could just re-order your previous orders easily.

He knew he couldn’t think so deeply into it.

This was just normal for you. A new normal. One that didn’t include him.

He could hear the rain again when he began to think like that, it was better to change the subject.

“How was work?”

You shrugged, loading up your plate and settling back against the counter and taking your first bite. “Lots of accidents, couple of DOAs…”

“I’m sorry…”

You shrugged again, continuing to eat. That meant it was worse than you were letting on. If things were normal, things were ‘fine’, but if things were bad, you wouldn’t talk about it, you would just get silent. He figured that was why you couldn’t make it tonight, he just hated seeing it confirmed with your quiet disposition, he hated seeing you like this.

But what could he do? Hug you? Comfort you? Where was the line of friendship drawn when he had your key on his key ring and had taken you right there on the counter before?

He dug around and found a piece of chicken, trying to distract himself by chewing, but with you only a few feet away at the opposite side of kitchen, it was impossible.

“What are you doing here, Poe?”

Didn’t you get it? He had no idea what he was doing there, absolutely no idea.

“Did you ever go back to sleep?” You muttered again; your mouth full of rice still.

“No, I couldn’t, went to the gym instead…” He said, sighing out. “I’m sorry I called so early—”

“Poe, you don’t have to apologize to me…”

“I know I shouldn’t be here—”

“Poe…” You sat your plate down, taking the few steps to close the space between the two of you, forcing him to set his plate down too so you could grab his hand. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”

He nodded, but he wasn’t holding your stare anymore, he couldn’t. All he could do was trace the details of your hand with his, the crest of your knuckles, the soft feel of your skin, remembering it all in a flash.

“So, what’s the prognosis doc?” He had mocked as he watched you skim your hands along his bruised wrist. “Tell me it’s not broken.”

“It’s probably not broken.”

He blew out a breath, a sigh of relief as he watched you survey his new injury. “A bad sprain?”

“I don’t exactly have an X-ray here.” You laughed back, “You come in to work with me tomorrow and I can tell you for sure.”

You reached around where he leaned against the bathroom counter, grabbing a tube from the drawer and beginning to rub the cream along the tender skin. He flinched back and sucked in a sharp breath, but you just kept going.

“Nah, doesn’t even hurt.” He joked, groaning out as you continued to rub in the cream.

“I’ll bring you a splint.” You sighed, recapping the cream but still holding his hand.

It was the same soft grip you were giving him now.

A grip he so desperately missed; he didn’t even know what to do now that he had it.

“When was the last time you went to a meeting?” You asked softly, waiting for his eyes to meet yours but they didn’t, they stayed directed to the small strip of floor between the two of you.

“It’s uh… It’s not normally this bad—”

“That wasn’t what I asked you, Poe.”

He kept his eyes down but nodded, he knew what you were asking, he just didn’t have an answer you would like.

“It’s been a little while.”

“You can’t just will away PTSD—”

He ripped his hand from yours and instead crossed both of his arms over his chest. “I’m fine—”

“There are some good therapists who work at the hospital if you don’t like the VA—”

“I’m fine.” He repeated, his voice finally wading out of the hoarseness, finding a strange stern quality that didn’t suit him. “It’s just worse when it’s raining, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You didn’t sleep at all last night—”

“How would you know; you weren’t exactly in bed with me.”

He didn’t mean to snap, he hated raising his voice to anyone, much less you, but it ripped through him so fast, he had no chance of stopping it. And finally looking up at you, he could tell it wasn’t worth it to try and back track either, the words had already settled over you.

You were biting your lip to keep your mouth shut and stepping away. As far as body language went for you, that was basically broadcasting the end of the conversation in flashing neon lights.

“I didn’t—”

“I don’t want your apology, Poe,” you turned back to grab your plate, shaking your head humorlessly. “I just want you to get better.”

And with that, you took your meal into your bedroom, not telling him to leave, but certainly not inviting him to stay.

But it was still pouring outside, he was going to delay heading back into it for as long as possible.

He packed up the food, putting the leftovers in the fridge and washing his plate, his appetite was gone anyways. But he couldn’t stop there, his hands just wouldn’t let him. He began washing all the dishes in the sink, he couldn’t help himself.

By the time you came back out with your empty plate, expecting to find him gone, you found him asleep on your couch, your entire kitchen scrubbed clean.

You placed your plate in the sink and wandered over to the couch, sitting against the back of it and just watching him for a moment. He really looked like crap. You might have been the one coming off a twelve-hour shift but he hadn’t slept in weeks, you could tell by the bags under his eyes. And with the slight uptake in his breathing the second you sat along the back of the couch, you could tell he wasn’t doing much more than feigning sleep now.

Reaching for his hand, you gently grasped it, waiting for him to hold it back. By the time he reluctantly took hold if it, his eyes were already fluttering back open.

“Come to bed with me, Poe.”

“Do you work tomorrow?” He asked back, rolling over to face you better where you sat.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to keep you up.”

You gave him a sweet smile. “You need real sleep, on a real bed, not the couch.”

Against his better judgement, he got up, following you to the back bedroom and after stripping his jacket and jeans, slotted in beside you in the plush bed that seemed to remember the curve of his body as if he slept in it the night before, as if it hadn’t been much, much longer than that.

He didn’t know what he was doing there. He didn’t know what any of this meant for the two of you. All he knew was that being able to feel you depressing the bed next to him, being able to feel the heat of your body even if the two of you were keeping your distance... All he knew was that he couldn’t hear the rain anymore.

And that was the little push he needed to fall straight into the deep end and drown in his own sleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow beside you.

#star wars #star wars imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #angst #poe x reader #tw: ptsd #tw: injury #tw: anxiety #a new dawn

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unholyeverything · 4 years ago

Text

3 a.m. - Part 1/4

Hello, this is based on a conversation I had with @lord-diavolo. So don't you solely blame little me. Also don't ask how we got there, we didn't understand ourselves. She was also one of my main inspirations to start writing, I just love her stories! So thank you! In general I've been so eager to try and inspired by all the fics I've read coming from this fandom. I wanted to contribute to the best of my abilities.

This won't be what you expected. Or it will be exactly what you expected. I don't know what you are into, honestly. But this is what I'm into and what I want to create. I shall have no shame anymore and trandescent into becoming a higher being.

Also the last time I wrote something was in gradeschool, so this might sound horrible. And I have no coherent thought of thinking so the timeline won't make sense. Please bear with me. Be here for the content, not the grammar, vocabs or a good sentence structure. Because I'm capable of writing 10 line long sentences. Good luck trying to figure that out. See it as a brain exercise.

But all in all, I had to say I had fun writing this! And that’s my main goal with anything I do. It made me laugh at first so hopefully you will get a laugh out of it too. Reading through it 200 times destroyed that for me. This is also brought to you by a caffein high. Me on coffee. The me writing this also was 4 cups in. Watch me rip out trees with my bare hands today. YOLO. Am I right.

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Pairing: DiavoloxLucifer Explicit: no, but mental images you will never forget Warning: none can save me from the brain damage I aquired during the creation of this, I went in there with -2. There are at least 5 more gone now. But sharing is caring am i right? Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Let’s start the slow progression towards Lucifer’s ultimate death.

During the day he was the Demon Lord, feared and respected by everyone and everything, but after 3am he turned into the biggest human fanboy known to demonkind. Or not known, let's be honest. This was the peak of his day, the time where he could truly go hunt down his newest online purchase. The latest addition to his human-things-collection. One of the base layers for all of Lucifer's frustration, because he was the first and mostly the only one being called in excitement after the order was made, expected to show up within minutes to listen to all the reasons as to why said item is the greatest invention of all time for multiple hours.

However, that wasn't the worst outcome, this was it being a good day. The worst this would come down to was Lucifer being pulled in and being expected to participate or joining him to try out his newest find.

Just thinking about him will summon the devil, right?! It proved to be the case today as well. His office was dark, only faintly being lit by a candle placed on his desk, silence surrounding him. Still going through stacks of paperwork needed for the student councils meeting tomorrow, tiredness slowly starting to overcome him, Lucifer found his mind wandering off to think about what Diavolo would be up to right now. Even though it was already long past midnight, tomorrow's meeting was important, so he must still be up, also working through mountains of paper trying to figure out all the topics needed to be discussed. At least that's what he hoped was going on when he heard his phone go off, the ringtone indicating it was him. Just a question regarding the meeting or to simply see if his right hand man was also starting to be done with preparations.

"Lucifer! I need you to come to my office immediately!" It sounded like an emergency, so just in the second it took Diavolo to speak out his words, Lucifer was already up on his feet, picking his coat off his chair to wrap it around his shoulders and leave through his doors. "I have just found the greatest piece of human ingenuity online and it was already delivered, you have to come look at it! I know it's 3 am but I beg you!" There it was, the thing he hoped would not happen. Not today, with such an important meeting awaiting them, actually, never again. Adding to the mess was Akuzons policy of just delivering within seconds upon seeing their Leaders address on an order. They wouldn't dare let him wait. The employee processing the orders would start screaming and everyone on the night shift would start running, trying to find the item their Lord wished for, running out right away to deliver it. Oh much Lucifer wished they would let him wait. At least for the next day, for his own sake. They really should start considering other people's feelings as well.

It seems like Lord Diavolo was browsing all sorts of websites again, spending his precious time, that could be used to prepare Devildom matters, to look for human garbage that excited him more than having Lucifer present himself to him in the finest Lingerie. Well maybe that could at least give off a similar effect, let's not forget to give him some credit, though it still couldn't fully compare.

Anyway, he had already left the house, might as well just get this whole ordeal over with. There was no way he could excuse himself either. It was his Lord giving orders, he had to go. Go off to another night listening to how great the human inventions were. Even if what Diavolo considered as 'a great piece of human ingenuity' ended up being the most ridiculous item of clothing Lucifer had to ever lay his eyes upon. Considering that was what happened the last time he was summoned to his castle at these unholy hours. These atrocities were apparently called 'onesie'. Furthermore they unfortunately seemed to come in the shape of all the different animals known to mankind. This not only led to Diavolo proudly picking one supposedly resembling a human dog-breed referred to as a "Welsh Corgi Pembroke". These dogs being the preferred breed of a human queen must only mean that they are fit for any of royal status. It also led to him picking out one resembling Lucifer's symbolic animal, the Peacock. Though one could debate if that 'thing' even closely resembled a proud peacock, it was just utterly ridiculous with these giant black eyes and this horrendous colour scheme of blue and green. Thinking about it, this is nothing to debate over. It was ridiculous. Making this past experience worse, was that, on the following weekend, Lord Diavolo invited him and all of his brothers to his castle for a human tradition: a sleepover party. The nice and considerate person that he is, he also thought about everything and picked out a onesie for all of them. Expecting everyone to wear these to bed from now on or at least during the duration of the event. What would he otherwise do? Check on them. More likely than what you would want to admit, at least in Lucifer's case.

Shaking his head Lucifer trying to erase this traumatizing experience from his memories. At least this train of thought has kept him busy on his way to the Demon Lord's castle where he was let in by Barbatos, already expecting him. Standing in front of Diavolo's bedchamber he took a deep breath in to mentally prepare himself for the worst. Just about as he was to knock on the wooden doors they were nearly slammed into his face by the unstoppable force on the other side of them.

Barely being able to avoid having his nose broken, he was greeted with the biggest of smiles and a sparkling set of eyes. Was that an apology? "Lucifer! You are finally here! I've been waiting!" "My Lord it only took me five minutes to get to you." "Five minutes to long, my dear! You could have stayed overnight like I offered yesterday." "Yes of course. I apologize." Lucifer answered with a sigh. He was too tired to argument over something that superfluous. Judging Diavolo's expression while entering the room he knew he was in for a long night without any sleep.

The meeting the next day was even more exhausting than usual, it also seem to drag on for eternity, the brothers never being able to find a consensus. At least that's what it felt to Lucifer, who truly did not get a minute of sleep the night prior. What was there so long to talk about human underwear designs. Oh yes, they depicted just the most amazing selection of fruits ranging from blue ones with little watermelons printed on them, over to the most stunning pair: pink one with green pears on it. Oh there was so much to discuss about the human depiction of fruits in general. Weren't they just the most stunning little icons, so bright and colourful. Diavolo didn't seem to be tired at all, he was still too excited about his newest purchase. Proudly deciding to wear them right away. Luckily, for Lucifer, he decided it was enough that he had seen them in all their glory and his Lord decided to put on pants before leaving the house.

Finally, the meeting was over. Lucifer decided to try go home as fast as possible to take a short nap before new orders could get to him. Still the first ones to leave where Mammon and Satan, saying they had things to do and hurrying to get out. The next to leave was Beelzebub, who got hungry, helpfully he decided to pick up the sleeping Belphegor and take him with him. Only leaving Leviathan, Asmodeus, Lucifer and Lord Diavolo back in the meeting room. Diavolo tried picking up the conversation from last night again. Though one look at Lucifer's face told him that the latter was not up for this again and he should really head home to get some well deserved rest. He was starting to get concerned with how dark his undereyes were starting to look.

"Lucifer, you should really head home, shouldn't you?" he asked with a worrying undertone in his voice. "It was a long night yesterday, wasn't it?" Amodeus couldn't prevent a smirk from appearing on his face, which was immediately answered by a glare from Lucifer, making his little brother face away again. Just appreciating the concern for once, too tired to come up with a answer or to get angry even, Lucifer got up and started to collect his papers. "Well then if you allow My Lord, I'll excuse myself…" "Of course, Lucifer, I'll just wrap up and clean the room with Leviathan and Asmodeus over there." There was a barely audible sigh and some complains coming from their direction that got louder after Lucifer has left the room.

"Now, don't complain you two!" Diavolo said with a smile. "Help your big brother a little, he had a rough night." There was nothing, better none, to keep Asmodeus curiosity in check now.

"Ohhhh ~ my Lord please tell me all the details ~" the strawberry blonde purred. "Oh I just found the most amazing pairs of underwear from the human world, I just had to present them to him!" the redhead replied proudly. "Oh what type of underwear are we talking about? Some red lace? Or black? Or did they come up with even more revealing items than nudity? I would not put it past them!" His mind wandered in a direction that it really shouldn't, all different types of lingerie induced situations popping up. "Oh they were the most wonderful things, they had little oranges and bananas and watermelons and all types of fruits on them!" Oh well, there was one thing keeping the Demon of Lust in check. And it was an oblivious Demon Lord, not picking up on the situation as well as the intent of the talk and instead daydreaming about boxer briefs with fruits on them. Of course, cute things are the priority. What to reply to that now.

"Oh, that sounds quiet wonderful! The humans and their unique fashion choices. Did you do a little fashion show for him?" Faking interest, a good choice for Asmodeus. This might just do the trick to at least lead this sad conversation in another direction. "Of course I did!" their Lord laughed out. "We had a great time picking out the most wonderful one!" Well, this wasn't a good choice after all. Was this something a couple should do that late at night? Selecting the greatest pair of fruity underwear? Surely this can't be it. There were better things on could do.

Finally putting an end to this was a loud sigh from Leviathan. "What is wrong, you seem to be quiet upset about something? Is there something I could do to help you?" Diavolo asked with genuine concern. "Oh. It's my parcel I ordered from Akuzon, it still hasn't arrived. I ordered three days ago, and I paid extra for next day delivery! And now I waited for THREE days. THREE. Still no word from them! I didn't even get an email saying it was shipped. It is a figurine from one of my favourite animes! A limited edition even. Only a couple of them were produced. They are really special. One of a kind! Maybe I should order another one if they still got them?" Starting his D.D.D. and furiously tapping on it. "I see they have two more in stock……." There Levi went off again, rambling about his shows. Weirdly he seemed to disclose the title this time. What would it be about? None shall find out, or should they? "Oh? What do you mean by that? Don't they deliver to everyone within a few seconds? When I order I get my little packets only minutes later, at most? It is a truly amazing delivery service! Though if they cause trouble for you should I go contact them?" Diavolo didn't quite understand his problems but tried offering help anyways.

Hearing these words just about did it for Leviathan. His envy kicked in full force and without a single thought to whom he was in the room with. What was with this unfair treatment. He was a Prime Shipping member, promised next day delivery. He paid extra for this. He was one of Akuzons' best customers. He spend fortunes on there. WHY WOULDN'T HE GET HIS ITEMS WITHIN MINUTES. He felt his demon form flare up. Even in the presence of his Lord. Asmodeus saw this as his chance of running away, a welcomed distraction. Truly not wanting to spend one more minute thinking about what went down between Lucifer and Lord Diavolo last night. The potential image of Diavolo walking down a carefully made runway in nothing but boxers with fruits on them and Lucifer watching that was too much, even for him. The thought will haunt him for centuries, that he was sure of.

"I won't stand for this." Horns already coming out of his head he faced Diavolo. "Leviathan, this is a little unnecessary, isn't it?" He got serious, straightening his back, standing there with his arms crossed. "I already offered to talk to them, we can find an easy solution for this." He would definitely not let him run loose and destroy their meeting hall. Leviathan's mind still screaming to fight, his body, luckily for him, knew better than to attack his Leader. Instead he furiously made his way towards the exit, continuously mumbling how unfair all of this was, what he did to deserve treatment like this. He would just hole himself up in his room again, trying to distract himself by ordering more figurines, because even if he can't get them the fastest, he would be the one owning the most.

Diavolo looked after him, now alone inside the room. What did he do wrong? He didn't quite understand what happened right now, but something must really have angered the third oldest. He would go ask Lucifer about it after cleaning up. They were separated for too long now, after all. A good excuse to go see him again.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #dialuci #obey me fanfic #obey me writing #fanfiction #obey me shitpost #obey me crack #obm #myfic

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onesmallspark · 5 years ago

Text

Quarantine Dream

Wrote this out of pure boredom and my own quarantine horniness.

2.6k words of fluff and porn. That’s all it is.

Apologies for any typos. LMK if you want to see more interludes from Leah & Steve’s quarantine.

A pandemic-level virus was not something Steve Rogers needed to worry about. The serum removed that threat years ago. However, for Leah, things were not quite the same.

She loved her little D.C. walkup and though she and Steve had only been dating for a little over nine months, they decided to take the plunge and quarantine together. Steve vowed to refrain from work he couldn’t do from her brownstone to cut down on the likelihood of bringing anything home.

Steve was old-fashioned, obviously. But he helped with cooking, cleaning, and maintained some of the things around her home that needed help like a kitchen cabinet not sitting quite right in its hinge.

However, he still turned a little pink when he’d help fold laundry and pull out an especially risqué pair of panties from the hamper. Leah loved it. She, on the other hand, took great pleasure in folding Steve’s underwear, no matter how flustered he’d get seeing the hold a pair of his boxer briefs.

They both spent most of their weekdays working in separate rooms of the house. They outfitted an alcove of Leah’s bedroom to fit Steve’s desk and computers, while she took over the spare bedroom to continue teaching her second-grade class.

Steve relished in the act of bringing up a sandwich to her office for lunch only to hear the group of 18 seven-year-olds dissolve into chatter and giggles.

“Hi, Mr. Steve!” They’d chorus, sometimes tipping off Leah to his location before she noticed him.

“Hi kids!” He’d smile back, showing off those perfectly aligned and whitened teeth. He’d set down the little plate with a turkey and ham sandwich and just the right amount of Doritos chips before announcing - “I think it’s close to lunch time!”

Leah humored him because the kids loved it and she often times needed the reminder.

“Okay everyone, after lunch, we’ll get back together and go over our multiplication tables.” She said sweetly before signing off.

The days went by quickly, and though Leah loved the extra time with her beau, she started noticing the real differences between them and their preferences. Steve could really do with some time to let his hair down.

“Baby?” Leah called from the kitchen one Sunday morning, digging through the fridge.

“Yes, my love?” He asked, walking in to join her. Always so formal. His eyes raked up and down her form - donning a lacy pair of pink panties that were somewhere between a thong and shorts, one of his workout shirts and nothing else but the white nail polish on her toes.

“I can’t find the orange juice - did we get some on our last Instacart order?” She frowned, closing the door.

“Uh,” Steve replied plainly. His brain shorting for two reasons - the swell of her ass from beneath the pink lace to the idea of working the Instacart app. He still wasn’t very mobile-friendly.

“Baby,” she laughed, turning and sliding her hands around his sides to press her face into his chest. “I told you I could do it.” She murmured, hands resting at the top of his jeans.

As previously stated, Steve was old fashioned. He didn’t hang around in comfy clothes. He got up, showered, put on his clothes for the day, changed once a day to go to the gym, showered again, then put street clothes back on. He ate meals at the dining table or breakfast bar, put out his pajamas on the dresser each morning and never skipped his deodorant.

Leah’s goal was to get him to lounge. Embrace athleisure. Maybe even go barefoot.

“I’ll get it this time, I swear,” he blushed as she slid her hands up his back from beneath his navy T-shirt.

“Baby, it’s 10 a.m. on a Sunday,” she pointed out, hands running over the brown leather belt. “Don’t you ever want to just hang out in your jammies?” She asked, looking up at him with her chin balanced right below the line of his pecs.

“I’ll get nothing done if I just hang around in my comfy clothes,” he pointed out, gulping softly as she slid her hands down into the back of his denim pockets.

“Doesn’t that sound nice?” She purred, burying her face in this chest yet again. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and I’ll make us breakfast, okay?”

“Do you want me to set the table?” He offered, kissing her forehead.

“We’re not eating at the table,” she winked.

Half an hour later, with a glass of milk tucked under her arm for the soldier and two plates of breakfast sausage and french toast, she wandered her way into the family room and set everything down on the coffee table. Steve was perched on the couch reading a book.

“It looks great, Lee,” he complimented, giving her a smile that made heart flutter.

“Thanks baby,” she smiled, straightening up. “Now, stand up,” she insisted. He complied, sticking a crisp $5 bill in his book to keep his spot, setting it on the side table.

She took a long, good look at him before meeting his gaze.

“Now, pants off.” She instructed. He opened his mouth to protest. “I mean it, Rogers. This is a no-pants brunch.” He almost went to argue again, but in the spirit of solidarity, he unbuckled his jeans and stepped out of them before draping them over the back of the adjacent lazy chair. “Socks, too.” She added. Again, he complied, tucking them into one another and setting them on top of his jeans. “I want your butt right here, and legs going that way.” She pointed him to sit with his back agains the arm of the chair and legs stretched across the three couch cushions.

Climbing onto the couch, she carefully wedged herself between his thighs, tucking her feet beneath the juncture of the couch cushion and the arm, practically in his lap.

Steve immediately flushed pink at how close her warm center was to his very interested cock, and with just the thin layers of cotton - well, in her case, lace - between them.

“Here baby,” she handed him his plate. They held their plates in their hands, chatting about a few things they wanted to get done around the house that week.

“I went to Bachman’s on Friday and reserved a couple of hanging baskets for the courtyard.” Steve said, “thought you’d like the purple ones.” He spoke of the small 14 x 14 outdoor space off the back of the living room - just enough to fit a few chairs and some string lights.

“Thanks, baby,” Leah smiled. The space was their sanctuary. Outdoor, private and kept them from going to stir crazy during the week.

“I can run and get them after brunch and hang them, then I’ve got some lumber coming to put together that planter box.” He continued, eating his french toast. “So I’ll start sanding them down, make sure they’re cut to size. Sometimes you get them and they’re a few inches or so off.” He explained.

“Today?” Leah pouted.

“Yeah, they close at 2, so I only have a small window to grab ‘em.” He explained.

“But they’ll be there tomorrow, right?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

Steve looked up from his plate of french toast to see Leah looking back at him, her big brown eyes as innocent as could be.

“Yeah, they’ll be there tomorrow,” he acquiesced.

“You’ve got just a little,” she leaned forward, flattered by the small drop of maple syrup balancing just carefully on his lower lip. He barely let her close the space before leaning forward, pressing his lips to hers.

He twitched subtly, but felt the earth shift when her sex pressed against his with the forward rock of her hips.

“Lee,” he blushed.

As previously stated, Steve was old fashioned. She had wondered in the beginning stages of their dating life if he was going to tell her he was a virigin, or was saving himself for marriage, - thankfully that was not the case. But Steve was traditional, vanilla, romantic. Things that were just fine - she was always satisfied. Leah, however was a modern woman, and she was ready to teach her old dog some new tricks.

She easily slid her plate, then his, to the coffee table before wrapping her arms around his neck and nesting herself much more comfortably and directly in his lap.

Feeling his hard length was always a flattering feeling that sent a thrill up her spine. His hands traveled up the length of her back and down again, holding her tightly to him.

“I love how big your hands are,” she admitted, lips brushing his. “You’re so strong,” she purred, kissing him again, knowing he could feel her hard nipples against his chest. Steve was a boob guy. She knew he never minded when she’d wear his workout shirts - the thin, breathable fabric always displaying her breasts in a way that he really appreciated.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?” He huffed, trailing kisses from her lips, down to her neck.

“Absolutely not,” She giggled, running a hand up the nape of his neck to the back of his head, sending another shudder throughout his body. She pressed her mouth to the shell of his ear, soft pants coming in waves against him. “I want you to fuck me on this couch, Steve.” She purred, sending every hair on his body to stand at attention.

“O-on the couch?” He asked, having a hard time thinking straight as all the blood in his body rushed toward his cock in a way that had him momentarily dizzy.

“On the couch,” she repeated. “Think you can do that?” She asked, feeling the dampness collecting in her sex.

“Anything you want,” he insisted.

“I want you to rip these panties off of me,” she said, rocking her hips into him once more, this time, leaving the faintest trace of wetness against the heather grey of his boxer briefs.

He reached down and complied to her wishes as if her were flicking a light switch.

“I need you in me, baby, I need you bad,” she tossed her head back, grinding her sex against him in a way that had him second-guessing his heart health.

Steve reaches down into his briefs, pulling out his cock and surprising even himself at how hard he was, the angry-looking head staring right back at him. Leah planted her in the couch and gripped the arm behind Steve, lifting herself just enough for him to slide more beneath her. They both groaned out as she sandwiched his cock between his abs and her pussy, grinding up and down the length in a way that felt like pure greed. The crown of his mushroom head caught against her clit as she spread her arousal up and down the length of it.

“Lee,” Steve stuttered.

“It’s so big, Steve,” she whimpered. He was going to commit the image to his memory forever - the inviting pink of her sex spread out atop him, her hooded clit peeking out in a way that was taunting him. She leaned back, bracing her hands against his knees, taking everything from him as she rubbed herself with more vigor against him. Then, she lifted herself just enough to hover, allowing him to reach down and grasp his length. Now, she was the strong one, as she let herself slowly sink down on top of his cock, pausing as she took just the head inside of her vice grip.

It took everything in Steve to not thrust up into her.

“You’re so big,” she echoed, “God, I just want you in me all the time,” she damn near whimpered.

“Lee, please,” he begged with an exhale. She sucked the remaining breath out of him as she allowed her body weight to drop, taking his full length and girth at once. Steve shouted as he bottomed out. Leah swirled her hips, side to side and up and down, taking exactly what she wanted from him. Steve straightened his posture, reaching for the hem of his own shirt agains her skin before bringing it up and over her head.

Wetness pooled against the grey band of his briefs as she rode him, and the sounds she made as she bounced were borderline pathetic. Steve needed more control.

Leah yelped when she found herself laid across the length of the couch, Steve’s cock buried inside her as he hovered over her body

“Give it to me,” she begged, pushing her hips up against him. Steve complied, setting a hard, relentless pace that caused her eyes to cross momentarily.

“Is this what you want?” He husked in her ear, two of his big, blocky fingers pressed against her clit.

“Yes,” she begged, nails dragging down the expanse of his marble back, causing goosebumps to erupt all over his body. Leah wrapped her legs around his lower body and he braced one hand above her head against the arm of the couch, the other holding one of her thighs - keeping her nice and tight to him.

“Steve, I need you to cum inside me,” she whimpered, causing him to stutter his movements. “Please, baby, I need it.” She begged.

“You need it?” He asked, gritting his teeth as she clamped down on his cock, dragging as much out of him as she could.

“Need you to fill me up,” she panted.

Steve watched as she reached down, circling her clit with her fingers as she thrust up to meet him with every movement. He could feel it coming in the soles of his feet - the backs of his thighs getting sweaty as he began to shudder.

“Come on, Lee,” he huffed.

“Want me to come on your cock?” She asked, watching as his eyes dilated.

“Yes,” he all but growled.

“Say it,” she demanded. “Tell me you want me to come on your cock,” she panted again.

“I want you to come on my cock,” he parroted. “Now.”

Leah squealed as her body thrummed, clamping down as every muscle below her heart spasmed, complimented by the feeling of Steve’s orgasm painting her insides. Steve jerked haphazardly, taken aback by the strength of his orgasm.

She ran her hands up the solid ridges of his abs to her chest as they each caught their breath.

“No,” she pouted as he moved to pull out. “C’mere.” Steve obliged, mentally still floating above his body as she pulled him down to rest on her chest, his softening cock still tucked deep within her. He nuzzled into the swell of her breasts as she ran her nails gently up and down his back, hands resting on his ass. As soon as he felt like he could make words again, he pressed a kiss to her breast.

“How long have you been planning that?” He asked, preening as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“I think about it every time I see you,” she replied casually.

“Every time you see me?” He asked, a little bewildered, eyes looking up at her from her cleavage.

“Every single time,” She replied, loving the way a pink blushed dusted his cheeks. She resumed his back rub, “I think about you taking me on this couch, bending me over the back of it, over there on the kitchen counter, in the shower, in the backyard, at your desk in your office…” she trailed off. Steve grinned a secret little smirk, pressing another kiss to her breast.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’ve got plenty of time left inside this house.”

#quarantine smut #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #captain america #captain america fic #captain america x ofc #captain america imagine #captain america smut #marvel #marvel smut #quarantine with Steve Rogers #quarantine with captain america #cabin fever #steve rogers is vanilla #sexy times with steve rogers #captain america fucks

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breanime · 5 years ago

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Person A can’t sleep so Person B sings them a lullaby for billy russo?

YOU KNOW I HAD TO MAKE THIS FAMILY!RUSSO! I JUST HAD TO!

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” You asked, concern clear in your voice.

Billy nodded, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “Yeah, yeah, we’re all fine here,” he said, wincing as Luca gnawed at his ankle, “It’s almost bedtime, so the kids are getting ready to go to sleep.” Your daughter, Emmy, was crawling around on the kitchen floor, chasing Curtis’ cat that Billy was cat-sitting. “They’re really tired, we had a full day.”

“I miss you,” you sighed on the other end of the phone, “I miss the kids.”

“I know,” Billy sighed back, “but you’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “my flight lands at 10—a.m,” you reminded him.

“We’ll be there,” he said, trying not to get too excited at the thought of seeing you again. You’d only been gone for three days; your job had requested you go to a conference (you were the best, after all), and so Billy had been left behind with the kids. He didn’t mind; he never understood fathers who referred to watching their kids as “babysitting”. You babysat someone else’s kids, you raise yours. So Billy had taken the last few days off of work to stay at home with your 4 year old son Luca, and your 3 year old daughter Emmy.

“Is that Mommy?” Luca cried out, pulling back from Billy’s legs to look up at him with those dark, wide eyes. “Hi Mommy!”

“Mama!” Emmy added. “Mama! Mama!”

“Hi babies!” You said, and Billy could hear the tears in your voice. “Mama misses you!”

“Mommy’s coming back tomorrow,” Billy said, both for the kids’ sake and yours. He grinned, a lightbulb going off in his head. “We need to get ready for bed because when we wake up, we’re going to the airport to get Mommy!”

The kids cheered.

“C’mon, Sissy,” Luca said, stumbling to his feet and taking Emmy’s hand in his, “We gots to get in our pajam-jams!”

“Mama coming home?” Emmy asked, toddling after her brother.

You laughed on the other end of the phone, and Billy smiled. He missed your laugh. He missed you. Man—having kids turned him soft. “Sounds like it’s time for you to go, Daddy,” you said, and Billy felt a shiver go through him at your words, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“We’re dropping the kids off at Frank’s,” Billy growled back, “and then I’m spending the rest of the day inside you.”

You sighed dreamily, and Billy wished you were there so he could kiss you. “Don’t tease me, Mr. Russo.”

“Not a tease,” he said back, “but a promise, Mrs. Russo.”

The two of you spoke for a few minutes longer—you convinced Billy to drop the kids off at Frank’s for a few hours tomorrow, and then go pick them up (you missed your mini Russos), and Billy was easily convinced. After he hung up, he walked into the kids’ room to see Luca tucking his sister in.

“And tomorrow, when the sun is up again,” Luca was saying as he patted the blanket down on his sister’s tummy, “We’re gonna go to the air sport to get Mommy, and we can see the airplanes!”

“I want Mommy now!” Emmy said back, pouting. Billy smiled; she looked just like you when she did that.

“You have to go night-night,” Luca explained, “and then we can get Mommy.” He got his patience from you, Billy knew. “Right, Daddy?”

Billy blinked. Luca knowing that Billy was behind him without turning around was definitely a Russo trait. “Right.” He stepped into the room, scooping Luca up in his arms and placing him in his little bed. “So it’s time for us to say goodnight…”

“I’m too egg-cited to sleep!” Luca said, kicking his little legs under the covers. “I can’t wait to see Mommy!”

“I want Mommy!” Emmy added, kicking her feet too.

Billy sighed. He should have known; bedtime had been relatively easy the last two days, of course that had just been the calm before the storm. Before he knew it, he had two baby Russos screeching “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy” with no intentions of going to sleep.

Dire measures needed to be taken.

“How about we all sleep in Daddy’s bed,” he offered, speaking loudly so he could be heard over his children’s voices, “And I’ll read you a story…”

He watched his kids’ eyes light up, and they both scurried out of their beds and rushed to your room, Billy trailing behind them, shaking his head with a smile on his face. They climbed the little Cars step stool that was next to the bed and hopped under the covers, staring over at Billy with matching grins on their sweet little faces. Billy settled himself between the two of them and grabbed a children’s book from the side of the bed. Luca was fascinated by the words, tracing them with his little finger as Billy read, and Emmy loved the pictures, making sure Billy held the book up so they could all see. Billy could tell they were both getting sleepy as he read on, but neither of them would relent and let themselves go to sleep. Both of them had their heads leaning on Billy, and Emmy was sucking her thumb—a habit she only went back to when she was sleepy.

“Daddy,” Luca said, his voice soft and slurred with sleepiness, “will you sing us a song?”

Billy paused. Sometimes you sang Disney songs with the kids, and you used to sing Emmy lullabies to get her to sleep when she was an infant, but Billy never did. He was just an appreciative audience member. And besides, he was a Marine. He was a sniper. He was a CEO.

Billy Russo didn’t sing.

Except now his babies were looking up at him, two pairs of big, black eyes that knew nothing but love staring up at him.

So he sang them a song.

Emmy was out before he’d even finished verse 2, but Luca stayed up until the song was done. Finally, he laid his little head down and closed his eyes. But before he did, he smiled and said the words that made everything worth it:

“I love you, Daddy.”

The next morning, Billy parked the car and waited for you. He didn’t have to watch for your arrival; the kids’ excited screams let him know when you were nearing the car. Billy hugged you to him, grinning from ear to ear as you greeted the kids, kissing them and telling them how much you’d missed them.

“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy,” Luca reported, his legs kicking in his car seat, “Daddy sanged us a song!”

Billy coughed, avoiding your gaze as he put your suitcase in the trunk. “That was supposed to stay between us, son…” He muttered.

“He did?” You asked, eyes wide as you slid your seatbelt on. “I want to hear Daddy sing!”

“Oh, no,” Billy shook his head, “That ain’t gonna happen.”

“Daddy sing!” Luca ordered.

“Sing, Daddy, sing!” Emmy chorused.

“Yeah, sing!” You added, clapping your hands.

Billy sighed, rolling his eyes as he put the car in gear. The things he did for the ones he loved….

“The wheels on the bus go round and round…”

*******************************************************************************************

GAWD I love the Russos. Also, I still haven’t settled on a name for Baby Boy Russo, the new baby... Suggestions? Thanks for reading!

Everything Taglist: @encounterthepast @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @charlylama @realduckvader @teacuplotus @whovianayesha @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily @fanfictionrecommendations-com @maxslime-blog @songforhema @lucielandss @themadhatter92 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @ashkuuuu @luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso @iaintnofurry @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @leahnicole1219 @evanlys19 @binbons-is-theloml @aikeia @bitch-imma-head-out @witchygagirl

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Benny B Taglist (minus Sirius): @banditthewriter @something-tofightfor

#billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo #breanime's drabble event part two

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