Here’s some Cor for ya! I don’t know if I’m totally pleased with how this one turned out, but hopefully you guys enjoy it. I might revisit it and change some stuff later on, but for now I wanted you guys to have at least something for today. No smut, they didn’t want to co operate and opted for angst instead. Tagging @fifteenwhispers because her writing is amazing and I know Mod Vella has asked for more Cor on this blog <3
Rain clouds gathered overhead as you rolled off of Cor, breathless and spent, curling yourself against his side. His breath was becoming steadier, a light sheen of sweat dotting his brow. Thunder rolled above as you looked up at him, his eyes a world away.
A crack of lightning made you jump. His arms tightened around you, but something still seemed off.
You looked up at him, brushing your fingertips against his jawline. “What are you thinking about?”
His gaze flitted to you momentarily before going back to staring at the ceiling. “Nothing,” he said, though his tone betrayed his words. “It’s nothing.”
AN: Alright, I’m giving in and writing Riverdale imagines now. God dammit, I told myself I wouldn’t jump onto another fandom wagon but here I am, inspired after the last episode and my undeniable crush on Ronnie Lodge.
This one is dedicated to all my loves out there that adore this chick as much as I but there is no fan fiction to read about her.
Summary: After the news that Ronnie’s dad has hurt many families, you’re there for Ronnie in a way Betty can’t be.
Pairing: Veronica x reader
Word count: 790 (short but sweet)
Warnings: None, some strong language
“Where’s Ronnie?” You rushed up to Betty as she stood by her locker. You had heard from Kevin that Veronica had a melt down earlier that day and you couldn’t believe she hadn’t come to you about it.
“Woah…Hey…” Betty chuckled as you had startled her slightly with your urgent question.
“Veronica Lodge?” You asked again, shaking your head.
“Um…I don’t know, she might be by the bleachers getting some fresh air. That’s what she told me but…” You cut Betty short by rushing out to the school field.
Betty was right, Veronica was sat on the bleachers, alone, watching the guys practice football. You could see Archie’s bright red hair from a mile off and you could tell he was the one that Veronica was watching.
You didn’t call her name, or try and get her attention; you just silently climbed the bleachers to get to her.
Brooklyn walks slower nowadays. If the vet is to be believed, she won’t be walking at all soon enough. When that day comes, Steve will carry her, or get a wagon, or maybe one of those dog strollers that he’s seen ads for online.
But for now, he just enjoys their leisurely stroll through the park together. It’s a sunny day, one of the first warm days of winter, not quite spring, and Steve is glad that Brooklyn is here for this, glad that they both survived the winter together. He smiles down at her, and she looks up at him with her long brown snout. She’s a mutt, through and through, brown and white with floppy ears. They’ve been together since she was two and he was twenty. Now she’s twelve, he’s thirty, and not a whole lot has changed.
Well, except one thing, but Steve tries not to think about him too often.
“C’mon girl,” Steve says, gently pulling Brooklyn away from a plastic bag on the side of the sidewalk. A few years ago she would’ve put up a fight. Now she just lets Steve guide her away. “That’s a good girl,” he says, pulling a treat from his pocket and giving it to her anyway. “Yeah, there you go,” he says, giving her a few pats on the neck. “There we—“
Brooklyn straightens up, goes to attention, then starts running. “Brooklyn!” Steve yells, flopping along after her. “Heel, Brooklyn! Heel!”
And then he sees who she’s running to.
“Brooklyn!” he cries, trying to get her to stop, but she won’t. It’s either let go of her leash or tackle her, and she is far too delicate to tackle.
Or follow her along to where Bucky Barnes is standing, watching them like a deer in the headlights.
Brooklyn woofs and jumps up onto Bucky’s legs. Bucky stumbles a little under her weight. “Hey girlie,” he says, with a nervous laugh. “Been a while since I’ve seen ya.” He strokes her once then looks up at Steve. He adds, quietly, “Hey Steve.”
“Hi,” Steve says, trying to keep his voice steady.
Bucky looks back down at Brooklyn and starts talking to her in that sweet way he always did, asking her how she is and whether she’s had any good treats lately.
Steve tries to breathe, because the last time he saw Bucky he was screaming at him, telling him he’d never stay with a cheater, and throwing him out of his apartment after they’d been together five years. Two weeks after that he found out that he’d been lied to, that Brock Rumlow had manufactured all of the drama, and that Steve had fallen for it. He’d had too much pride, been too embarrassed to go crawling back to Bucky like he should’ve. Steve had just spent days staring at his phone, wishing he hadn’t deleted Bucky’s number. Now, over a year later, here Bucky is.
“Missed you, baby girl,” Bucky says, crouching and scratching behind Brooklyn’s ears as she sits, open-mouthed, looking happier than Steve’s seen her in ages.
“Unlike some people?” Steve finds himself asking, dreading the answer.
Bucky looks up briefly, just enough to make eye contact with Steve, then back down at Brooklyn. “Not necessarily,” he says. He presses another kiss to Brooklyn’s head, then stands back up. Bucky clears his throat, then looks back at Steve. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to stop you two on your walk.”
“It’s her fault,” Steve says, trying to smile.
Bucky smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Steve’s heart aches. “I, uh, won’t come around this park again, so you can—“
“Don’t,” Steve says, voice cracking. “Don’t say that.” Bucky doesn’t respond, just frowns. Brooklyn is still sitting at his feet, crying, trying to get his attention. “You don’t have to change your life just because I fucked everything up.”
“Buddy, if you think I haven’t been avoiding all of the places you frequent for the past year, you’re wrong.”
“I know you have,” Steve says. “I know you’ve been avoiding me because I’ve been looking for you.” He feels tears well up in his eyes. He looks down to Brooklyn. “So has she. She misses you; I can tell. She still sits at the bedroom door in the mornings, thinking you’ll…” He trails off, wipes a few stray tears off his cheeks. Brooklyn must realize that he’s upset, because she moves back to Steve, sitting on his feet and nudging his leg with her face. Steve reaches down and gives her a pat. “I miss you,” Steve says.
Bucky nods. “Maybe…” he says, then clears his throat again. “Maybe I could tag along with you on the rest of this walk?” Bucky asks. “Seems like we have a lot we could talk about, Brooklyn and I.”
you for requesting!! I made this into a semi-song fic because I found a great
song for it.
about something with ether Leo or Donnie where the reader (their crush) goes to
school out of state and they return in the summer and surprise the boys. But
they’re different somehow (their hair is shorter or their more fit or they
gained weight, etc)”
Blackbear - N Y L A
I don’t own TMNT, and you belong to you <3
“I have a question. So like,
when something is suspicious we say ‘Something smells fishy’. Why do we do
that? Why is fish-smell suspicious? What did the fish do?” Leonardo looked up
at you from his place on the couch, a small, confused smile on his face.
“I’m going to miss you, and your
stupidity.” Rolling your eyes, you sat next to him, giving him half of you
sandwich and taking a bite of your own.
“I know you will.”
You were going on an exchange program
with your school, you were to leave for LA that night, and you weren’t happy
about it. Your parents thought it would be good for you, and signed you up for
the whole summer with three other people you didn’t even talk to.
You’re in New York /
I’m in LA
You looked down at Leo’s sleeping form
on your couch, leaning down and kissing his forehead softly. Neither of you
were together, but you were best friends. You hadn’t had the heart to wake him
up. He’d never been apart from you for so long, especially without anyway to
contact you. His phone’s service didn’t really reach that far.
We’re oceans away / I’ll
be asleep at the time you’re awake
He didn’t want you to leave. He couldn’t
function without you there, his head wasn’t right, and he felt like he wasn’t
in control of everything. He’d gotten up from the couch at 1AM, finding the
note in your kitchen. ‘I love you, I’ll see you in 3 months.’
He knew there was a way to get out of it;
he got Donnie to find out the program online. Leo was hurt that you didn’t even
take it into consideration. You just brushed it off.
He wouldn’t stop you; he could tell you
wanted to go, even though every time he asked, you denied it, saying you’d
rather spend your summer with him.
I know that you’re
hurt / But I’ll make it work / I’ll make you stay
He couldn’t make you stay. You left, and
the door was still unlocked, the key still in the door. Kissing the note, he
went back to the couch, and sat there for a while before getting up and leaving
quietly. It was too hard to be in there without you.
I’m in L.A. / You’re
in New York
You got to your room in the big house
you were staying in. It was like something from a movie, tall ceilings, and big
rooms. But it wasn’t New York. It wasn’t your cramped studio apartment with a
broken toilet and a bed too big for the tiny bedroom. It wasn’t home.
I missed you today /
So bad that it hurts
You cried into your pillow for God knows
how long. You were pretty sure the people you were staying with thought you
were crazy. You should’ve woken him up. You should’ve said goodbye. You
should’ve done a lot of things. But you didn’t and you were going to regret it
for the next 3 months.
My heart it burns,
yes it burns / 2800 miles away / And I’ll be asleep by the time you’re awake /
So I’m calling to say
He tried calling your cell countless of
times, he’d even gotten Donnie to try and broaden the connection, but he could
only reach Chicago if he stood on the couch with his hand in the air. Leo tried
to keep himself preoccupied, and tried to ignore the searing pain he felt
whenever Mikey mentioned you, or Raph asked how you were. Leo didn’t know, and
it’d been a whole month. You could be hurt, and you could be sad. Or worse, you
could be happy and forgotten all about him.
That’s what hurt the most. The tiny
possibility that you were so happy over there that you didn’t care to come
I’ll make you stay /
Until that day I’m one plane ride away
The hair on the ground covered your
feet, sticking to them as you paced back and forth in the grand bathroom of
this unknown house. You missed him so much it hurt. If it was a week, fine, but
it had already been 2 and you couldn’t keep up the happy smiles anymore. You
need to be home, in Leonardo’s arms.
Do you feel the same? / Do you feel the
He was a wreck without you, but like
you, was too proud to show it. He kept up his confident, serious appearance,
but behind closed doors he was a lost puppy, needing a home. His home. He
Hearing a tap against the wooden door of
his room, he hoarsely shouted that he’d be out in a second, wiping away any
tears on his face.
He was taking too long; he was stalling.
How can he face his brothers again after crying for hours straight? He had his
good days, where he would carry on like normal, but then he’d have his really
bad days, where all he wants to do it hold you and hear you tell him it’ll be
Another knock, and then another. It
became irritating very quickly. Groaning he got up and swung the door open to
I’ll make you stay /
Until that day I’m one plane ride away
You were in his arms, on the floor; both
of you just holding each other in his doorway.
Your hair was shorter, your makeup was
darker and you were a hell of a lot thinner then when he last saw you. You were
different, but your hugs weren’t any different, your chin on his shoulder wasn’t
any different and your eyes. Your beautiful eyes, still the same color that
left. He smiled, and you smiled. And that’s when he kissed you, and you kissed
You could never stay grounded or comfortable in one place. As you would settle in one, you would feel a calling in you, deep down in your stomach, that screamed out that there were new places; this time, places far away from anywhere you had been were screaming out for you. As if possessed by a wayward spirit, you left behind everything.
This time, you not only changed your location, you changed everything. You cut your hair, shearing it and letting your curls go wild and wind blown. You stopped wearing any makeup, and didn’t stay in one place for too long.
This time, you could never settle. You were always moving, and nothing was ever the same– well, one thing was.
You had been unable to change your phone number, too afraid to truly lose the love of your life. Lin was a constant, and you always updated him on where you were; postcards, letters, phone calls, texts. Anything and everything to make him feel less alone.
You had been in Australia for a while, spending time on the beaches, strolling through the Australia Zoo, and trying to get used to the differing hours when compared to the last place you’d been.
You were woken up at almost four in the morning, you phone ringing off the hook. You were considering not picking up and going back to sleep, until you saw Lin’s face pop up along with his number. You picked up instantly.
“Hello, love. How are you,” You said, trying to hide the exhaustion in your voice.
“Please come home,” he said almost immediately, barely giving you time to finish your greeting. “It’s just, Im miss you, and it ain’t home w-without you her.”
“Lin, are you drunk?” You sat up, prepared to call one of your friends in the city to watch him and make sure he stayed out of trouble.
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, and you froze.
“Why are you drunk, love?” He almost never did this, never getting drunk and making phone calls like this without hesitation.
“Because it’s been a year,” he slurred, and ice spread slowly through your veins. Had it really been a year since you left? It felt like it had been only weeks, but you had truly spent a whole 365 days without getting held by and holding Lin in your arms.
“I’m sorry love, but-”
He cut you off, “I would offer to come to wherever you are, but I don’t know where you are right now. But if I did, we could watch The Shining mini-series together. We don’t even have to spoon! I-if we get comfortable, we can,” there was a long pause, “there are parts that are scary. But, we can-we can watch the miniseries.” He paused again, and you heard him audibly gulp, as if he was taking another drink of some sort of alcohol, “I’ll have the book, in hand. I have the old, first print edition,” he slurred out, and started to cry quietly.
“Don’t cry, love,” you whispered into the phone. You weren’t able to handle it. You were the reason he was drunk, the reason he was crying, the reason he sounded so heartbroken.
“I-I just miss you, so, so, so much.”
“I know, love,” you replied, trying to steel your nerves, “but I need you to call someone to pick you up, take you home, and watch you to make sure you’re alright.”
“I am home,” he spat, “and I’m on the phone with you.”
“You need someone to be with you in person. Call Oak, or Daveed. They can watch you.”
“Daveed, is off fucking some girl, and Oak is off trying to fuck some girl,” he replied, “and I just want to be with you.”
You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut, trying to keep tears from falling down your face. “I know, love, I know,” you took a deep breath, “just promise me that you’ll call someone. Try Anthony, or even Jasmine.”
“Anthony and Jasmine are-”
“Don’t say that they’re fucking each other,” you snapped. “Lin-Manuel, I don’t care who’s fucking who right now, I want you to call someone that isn’t me, and tell them you’re drunk. Or I will.”
“Fiiiiiine,” he drawled after a moment, “but, I still wanna see you.”
“I know, love.” You said your goodbyes, and hung up the phone. You collapsed back onto the pillows, burying your face in your hands. You stayed up the rest of the night, making a rock solid plan and booking flights.
When your plane touched down in New York, all the nervousness fluttered back into your mind like migrating butterflies, and you subconsciously bit at you lip, feeling it split open.
It was late, stars dotting the sky like pinholes in a black cloth, and you walked out of the airport alone, toting a bag. You hailed a taxi, jumping in, and feeling knotted up with apprehension, the butterflies refusing to leave you.
You knew Lin’s regular hangover routine, and by now he would be passed out all over again after a day of moping about and having a twelve hour headache.
You didn’t even bother knocking on the door to his apartment, choosing instead to grab the spare key from underneath of the mat and sneaking quietly into the apartment.
You were scared out of your skin when someone practically jumped you, pulling you into their arms and pressing you flush against their chest, murmuring into your hair that they couldn’t believe you were home.
“I’m here, love. I’m home,” you said, as Lin kissed your forehead after pulling away. “God, I missed you,” you breathed out, pulling him in for a kiss.
Soon enough, he had you pressed against the wall, his arms boxing you in, his mouth devouring yours. He was suddenly kissing you cheek, jaw, neck, shoulder. He pulled your shirt off, and you pulled off his, and you were being pulled into Lin’s bedroom, and everything was perfect.
“I missed you, so much,” he breathed out as he traced nonsense patterns along your bare side, kissing the top of your head.
“So did I.”
“Are you going to leave me again,” he asked, and you shook your head.
“If I ever feel like I need to, I’ll tote you along with me, or I’ll only be gone for a week. No more than that,” you promised, and Lin nodded.
“So,” you began, looking up at him, “do you wanna get to watching that miniseries you mentioned yesterday?”
“Absolutely,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on your forehead.
Please understand that if I’m your girlfriend I’m going to give you everything I have to give. Yeah, I’m going to surprise you with the little material things, the nice watch, your favorite food, a trip. But that’s nothing compared to the fact that I’m going to shower you with unconditional fucking love. I’m going to walk next to you on your happy days, and the days where you’re down I’m going to hold your hand and get you through it. I will understand you’re not your mistakes and not compare you to anyone from my past. It’s no competition, it’ll be you. Right here. Right now. But babe also understand I’m a fucking tease so I will hop on top of you, kiss you like you have the last supply of oxygen left in the world in your lungs, and just as you get into it? I’m going to stop, look into your eyes letting you know just exactly what I intend to do to you as I walk away into the bedroom. Expect to be pushed against a wall, pinned down, and to beg. I’m not going to give it to you easy. Nah, babe I’m going to go nice and slow and feel you shake with desire and when you finally beg for me to love you in only the way I can? I’m going to melt into you and show you just how much love I have to give over and over again.
Summary - Y/N feels abandoned when she is pushed aside by the fact that Joe is becoming more famous.
Word Count - 1,452
Warnings - N/A
You let a deep sigh escape your lips as you rest your book
on your stomach. Why are Sunday’s so boring? And yet everyone will complain
when Monday comes around again as everyone, with great effort, drag themselves
out of bed and to school or work.
It’s so repetitive. You were currently reading the book that
was set by your English teacher at University, even though you had read it
before, you re read Romeo and Juliet, simply out of boredom.
Glancing over at the window, a slight smile formed on your
lips as you noticed that spring was finally upon us. Children were outside,
running around in circles and their laughter filled the air. Very cliché, but
the sun was shining and there was a slight breeze in the air. Summer was
coming! Hopefully, it is Britain
You sat up on your bed, your legs hanging over the edge and
just your toes just touched the carpet spread across your bedroom floor.
Looking at the children outside, it made your heart swell,
but also made you miss your best friend. He was always away, having a way more
exciting life than you were in the quiet town of Lacock,
You loved it where you lived, because it was so peaceful and
quiet, but it did get quite boring sometimes when your best friend wasn’t
around. Joe was his name, by the way. Just incase you were wondering.
He currently lived in London,
though he wasn’t actually there very much, he travels quite a lot as he is a
famous youtuber. Joe was always doing photo shoots and interviews, and this was
the reason you very rarely saw him.
You had tried to call him multiple times, along with the high
number of text messages as well, but he was always busy. He never answered the
calls and the text replies were very brief and basically pointless. So you gave
up, what was the point in trying if you didn’t get anything in return?
You understood that Joe was busy and he had new friends, and
a new life, but it still hurt you when you were forgotten about and pushed a
side like an old toy.
Watching the little boy and girl run around together,
giggling, caused tears to spring to your eyes. You wished you hadn’t sat up and
saw the children because it made you miss Joe even more as you used to play like
this when you were both children, and now the sudden urge to call him had
Grabbing your phone off your bedside table, you scrolled through
your contacts until you found his name and pressed the call button, smiling as
a picture of you on Joe’s back popped up.
“Hello?” the familiar accent muttered, sounding as
if he’d just woken up.
You swallowed your nerves and tried to put on a brave voice.
“H-Hi Joe.” You murmured, gripping the edge of
your duvet in your fist, causing your knuckles to turn white.
You heard the surprise in his voice as he continued to
“Erm, hi Y/N. Long time no speak.”
This caused you to roll your eyes.
“Yeah, wonder whose fault that is.” You muttered
in a sarcastic tone.
You bit down on your bottom lip nervously as you heard him
sigh heavily down the phone.
“Don’t start Y/N, you know how busy I’ve been.” He
tried to explain, already sounding annoyed after such a short time on the
“Yeah I know, so busy you’ve forgotten your best
mate.” You chuckled, trying to show that Joe had actually really hurt you
without actually saying the words.
Another sigh left Joe’s lips. “I didn’t forget you;
I’ve just been busy like I explained. It’s hard Y/N, I hardly get time to see
my own family. If I had the time, I’d be with you now.”
You looked down at your lap, starting to feel guilty. He
sounded as upset as you felt, and Joe wasn’t the type to hurt you on purpose.
You’d been best friends since you were 8 years of age, now both of you at the
age of 24, he’d never done anything to hurt you. He usually went out of his way
to make sure that no one ever hurt you, but he had done this time. Even if it
had been done unintentionally.
You heard a slight rustling in the background of the phone
call and frowned slightly.
“If you’re busy now, we can do this another time.”
Even though you’d not spoken in weeks, you actually wanted
to stay on the phone call now. You longed to hear his voice, hear him laugh.
This was the next best thing besides him actually being in the room with you,
which was looking very unlikely to ever happen at the minute with the mood you
were both in.
You were both stubborn, and it was one of the many things
you had in common with each other, along with the taste in music, films and
“No, stay on the phone.” Joe was practically
begging, but yet, the rustling down the phone continued, even though it was
You bit down on your lip again, which was something you
always did when you were nervous. And you were desperately trying to rack your
brains for a topic of conversation and from the sound of the silence on the
other end of the phone.
Tears began to spring into your eyes as you struggled to get
the next 3 words out.
“I missed you.”
You were sat, desperately waiting for him to repeat those
words back to you, or at least say something that would comfort you, even just
a little bit.
The line went dead, and he had ended the call.
You stared down at your phone, a few tears running down your
cheeks, genuinely shocked that Joe had done that.
And then, a few minutes later, there was a knock at the door
and you quickly wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your jumper. That didn’t get
rid of the redness in your eyes though so it was pretty obvious that you had
“Mum, I’m busy.” You said, trying to make your
voice sound steady, though it was clear it was shaking.
With your back still facing the door, you heard it click open
but you still didn’t turn around, until the weight on your bed shifted.
Glancing over your shoulder, you widened your eyes as you
Here he was, Joe, sat on your bed, starting back at you.
“I wanted to surprise you this afternoon; I was going to
just turn up at your front door.” He smiled shyly, moving closer to you.
No words came out of your mouth, none at all. You were still
trying to process the fact that he was sat here, with you, in your room and on
“Please say something, anything.” He begged,
moving his hair out of his eyes as he looked at you sheepishly.
“Why did you hang up on me?” you mumbled, ignoring
the surprised look on Joe’s face.
“That’s what you’re going to ask me? Not, why are you
here? Have you missed me? Just, why did I end the phone call?” he
wondered, staring at you.
You just simply nodded once.
“Dramatic effect?” Joe shrugged, a smirk forming
on his lips.
Your eyes rolled as an instant reaction and you slapped his
Joe chuckled and shook his head, moving so his knee was
pressed against yours. That was the sound that you had craved. His laugh.
He nudged your knee with his, the smirk still plastered on
“What?” you asked, giggling for the first time in
what felt like months.
“I really have missed you, Y/N.” Joe mumbled, his
blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight that still shone through your bedroom
“I missed you too.” You told him, resting your
head on his shoulder as he nuzzled into your hair.
You inhaled the scent of his aftershave and sighed happily,
looking up at him.
His eyes were still sparkling and a lazy smile formed on his
face, his face slowly edging closer to yours, as you mirrored his movements,
until finally, your lips connected and moved in perfect sync.
After a few minutes, you parted and Joe let out a deep
“I hope that was worth the wait, Y/N.”
You shrugged and chuckled. “Could have been
better.” You teased, giggling and you nuzzled into his side again, so
happy to be back into his arms after what felt like a life time.
It was pre-movie; I was in the middle of an evil plot that was outside the Evil Lair and Roxanne was there (!!!) and tied up, only it was really windy out and she said she hadn’t gotten her hair cut in a while, so it was a little long.
And it kept blowing in her face, so she finally got annoyed enough with it that she told me to get a pair of bobby pins out of her purse and pin it back for her.
aaaaaaahhhhhhh and I brushed her hair back from her face and I ALMOST DIED OF HAPPINESS, LET ME TELL YOU.
Also, it is INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT to pin someone’s hair for them when you have never had hair of your own, so I was S T R U G G L I N G, but Roxanne thought it was funny and she laughed (!!!)
And I finally got her hair pinned out of her face, and she jokingly asked if she looked funny and I was already pretty flustered so I was like “no no; you look really pretty!”
and she raised her eyebrows at me and said I must rate my skills as a hairdresser pretty high and I started babbling about how she always looked pretty and it was EXCRUCIATINGLY EMBARRASSING OH MY EVIL GODS.
But Roxanne seemed to think that was funny, too, which (!!!! ??? !!!!)
And then Metro Man showed up, only I’d been so busy with Roxanne that I hadn’t actually even set up the evil plot, so I decided to pretend that there…wasn’t an evil plot. And we were still technically on the Evil Lair grounds, and Metro Man isn’t supposed to attack there unless there’s an evil plot happening.
But Metro Man was all suspicious, so I was like “no, really, nothing happening here” only he insisted that Roxanne was there, and barged past me to look for her and I was like ‘shit’, but when we got to where she had been tied up, she wasn’t there.
(she must have escaped while I was gone)
So Metro Man left and I was like “well, this day is a bust, might as well take a nap,” so I went to my bedroom and took off my shirt and lay down on the bed and okay, maybe I wasn’t exactly intending on napping, per se, but luckily I didn’t do much more than think about…that…because
THE CLOSET DOOR OPENED AND
ROXANNE POPPED OUT
And I screamed and launched myself off the bed.
When Roxanne finally stopped laughing at that, she told me she’d gotten lost looking for the exit after she escaped, and had hidden in the closet.
She also added “now you know how it feels when people break into your house and jump out at you, Megamind.”
I was like “I HAVE NEVER JUMPED OUT OF YOUR BEDROOM CLOSET AT YOU, MISS RITCHI; THAT WAS UNCALLEDFOR.”
And she was leaning up against the doorframe of the closet and I was on the floor in front of her, trying to find my shirt so I could put it on, only it was all inside out and I was flustered because Roxanne (!!!) was in my bedroom (!!!) and she was looking at me with this–expression of amused fondness and it was really difficult to try to function with that happening–
She was teasing me about screaming, which she never does, when I woke up.
…and I just realized, typing this out, that she could have easily waited for me to fall asleep before sneaking out to find the exit, but she deliberately came out of the closet while I was still awake, so she must have wanted to–see me–talk to me–interact with me more–
A/N: this imagine is a little shorter, but I was thinking about it today and I hope you like it.
Happy Lowman was a very difficult man to be married to, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind about that. But there were these times when he’d look at you, that his eyes would soften, and the corners of his mouth would tip up ever so slightly, and you knew that he loved you. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about that either.
But being in this life of constant terror, and heartache, had taken it’s toll on you. You felt like you hadn’t seen your husband in weeks, and the two of you decided not to have any planned children (after you had a few miscarriages), leaving you home alone with nothing but your thoughts to keep your company. Needless to say, those thoughts weren’t always the best company.
You often call Happy when your thoughts won’t let you sleep, and he isn’t home. And no matter where he’s at, if he can step away for a few minutes, he’ll talk to you. There’s always been something about his voice, that’s just always felt like home.
Tonight, was one of those nights: where you couldn’t sleep, with your thoughts screaming at you and with no old man to assure you otherwise.
You glance at the clock: 2:24 A.M. You let out a long sigh, before picking up your phone and dialing Happy’s number. He picks up on the third ring with a grunted, “Hello.”
“Hap?” You let out, your voice betraying you with a crack. You had been proud of yourself up until now, going a full week without needing to call him. You had been able to keep your mind off of everything, but tonight it was like everything was crashing on top of you.
You hear his heavy breathing, as if he’s been running, and you hear a bit of commotion before it gets quiet and he answers you, “Everything alright?”
You let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, I just needed to hear your voice. You aren’t busy, are you?”
“No. Everything’s covered.” He’s quiet for a moment. “What have you done today?”
This was how your old man calmed you down, through simple day-to-day conversation. So without another breath, you go into how your day was going and then timidly retaliate the question. Happy kept you pretty updated on club business, but he usually couldn’t tell you much while on a run.
“It’s been crazy, baby.” He breathes out. “But we should be home later tomorrow.”
You try to hold your emotions in long enough to keep your cool, but you were honestly so excited to see your husband that you had to pull the phone away from your ear to let out a squeal.
“You don’t even know how happy I am to hear you say that.” You breathe out, and you hear him let out a small laugh.
“Yeah, me too.” He’s quiet again, too quiet, before he blurts into the phone, “I miss you.”
You smile into the darkness of your bedroom, reveling in the sound of the words rolling off Happy’s raspy tongue.
Boyf riends "I know its 3 in the morning but I cant find my cat"
Michael clicked the tv off, plunging the basement into thick darkness. He had spent the past countless hours playing a first-person shooter game. After positively annihilating his opponents for the twenty-fifth time, Michael decided that it was about time to call it quits. He had messaged a couple quick good-byes to his buddies, ignoring their requests for him to stay and play “just one round more.”
He pulled out his phone, blinking at the bright light. Almost 3 AM. Fabulous. At least, tomorrow–wait, scratch that. At least, today was Saturday, so he could sleep as long as he wanted. Michael stuffed his phone back into his pocket and felt against the wall as he made his way upstairs, out of the basement.
Michael pressed a fist to his mouth as he yawned, shutting the door to the stairs that led to the basement. Once it had snicked shut, Michael began to creep to his room. His parents generally didn’t give a crap about his whereabouts, but the last time he had been caught up after midnight, his father had flipped out and–
Well, that was neither here nor there.
Michael just wouldn’t get caught. Simple as that.
He eased the door shut to his bedroom, cringing as it clicked shut, obscenely loud in the silence. Michael froze for a moment, anxiously waiting for that familiar grumble and the creaking of the hallway. Nothing. He was safe. Michael sighed in relief, intending to collapse into bed and sleep the rest of the weekend away.
A sharp tapping at his window derailed that train of thought.
Michael turned quickly to the window. Jeremy waved at him, gesturing to open the window. He smiled crookedly, cocking his head as he waited for Michael to acquiesce. Michael wanted to say that he was surprised, except, who else would be at his window at–Michael checked his alarm clock–3:04 in the morning.
Jeremy rapped the glass again, harder this time. Michael rushed over, yanking the window open. “Be quiet,” he hissed. “If my father hears you, we’re both dead.”
“Hi, Michael,” Jeremy greeted, tumbling through the open window and onto the floor. He hit the ground with a loud thump that had Michael jerking towards the direction of his bedroom door and just praying that– “I missed you.”
“Are you… drunk?” Michael asked, his nose wrinkling at the scent of alcohol that seemed to seep off of Jeremy’s clothes.
Jeremy frowned at him. “I missed you, Michael. Do… Do you not miss me?”
Michael rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. It was three in the goddamn morning. “I did miss you, Jeremy, but I would have much preferred for this conversation to take place when the sun was up.” Michael punctuated his comment by gesturing to the stars that still glittered outside.
Jeremy followed Michael’s gesture, leaning against the window frame. “Yeahhhh… But the stars are just so pretty, aren’t they? I wish I could just have one for my own. Just one.” Jeremy started to reach for a star, Michael supposed, and began to tilt out of the window dangerously. Michael grabbed Jeremy’s shirt before he could fall to his untimely death (though, Michael was just about exasperated enough to shove Jeremy out and deal with all of this in the morning) and shut the window before Jeremy could accidentally–or not so accidentally, depending on how fed up Michael became–tumbled to the ground.
“That’s nice, Jeremy, but what in the world are you doing here?”
“Oh. I can’t find my cat.”
Michael stared at Jeremy, wondering if he had misheard his best friend. “Your cat?”
“Yeah, my cat. It’s orange. I think. Huh, I can’t remember now.”
“That’s… Jeremy, you don’t have a cat,” Michael explained.
Jeremy grinned. “Well, that would explain why I couldn’t find it!”
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. He loved his best friend, he truly did. But, he just couldn’t deal with a drunk Jeremy right now. “Okay, we solved that mystery. You’ve got to get home.”
Jeremy’s forehead crinkled. “You… you want me to leave?” he asked, almost pitifully.
“No, Jeremy… Well, yes, I do, but not because–”
It was too late. Jeremy had begun to cry.
Michael really just wanted to pound his head against the wall, but that would really wake up his father. He hadn’t realized that Jeremy was so… emotional when drunk. “B-but, Michael,” Jeremy was blubbering, “I–I don’t want to g-go. I want to stay here with you!” Jeremy grabbed Michael’s waist, pulling him onto the bed.
“That’s, uh, nice, but, Jeremy, I really need to get you home.”
“Don’t you love me?” Jeremy wailed.
Michael clapped a hand over Jeremy’s mouth. “Be quiet,” Michael hissed. “You’ll wake my father.” Once Jeremy had quieted down, except for the constant mournful sniffs, Michael removed his hand. “Okay, okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to drive you home and help you settle down and, after you’re asleep, I’ll leave. Does that sound okay?”
Jeremy nodded slowly. “W-we’re still friends?” he asked.
“Yes, of course, we’re still friends. Even though it’s…” Michael glanced at the clock, sighing. “Even though it’s 3:19 in the morning. You owe me sushi.” Michael helped Jeremy to his feet, before pausing. There wasn’t really any good way to get Jeremy out of the house. Going out the window could very well lead to Jeremy falling to his death. And going through the house would involve creeping past his parents’ room and Michael didn’t trust Jeremy to be quiet enough. Which meant…
“Um, change of plans,” Michael decided. “You’ll stay here and I’ll just set my phone alarm so that we can get up before my father gets up.” Michael figured that he could stash Jeremy in his closet or something and then pretend to be asleep when his father would, inevitably, check on him in the morning. That would have to work. If Michael had thought it had hurt when his father had caught him up after midnight, getting caught with a boy in his room would be indescribably painful.
“Okay,” Jeremy said, laying down on Michael’s bed and pulling the blankets up to his chin. “I knew you loved me.”
Michael sighed, quickly setting an alarm on his phone and praying that he would wake up to it this time. “Yeah, yeah,” Michael agreed, slipping under the covers. Jeremy immediately latched onto him, cuddling against his shoulder. Michael stiffened for a moment, before relaxing. “Yeah, Jeremy, of course, I love you.”
Can you do the whisper "kiss me, please?" with Daveed x reader?
It’s three in the morning, and Daveed finds you curled up in a ball on the recliner, the blanket falling off your body and a half-eaten bowl of soup just out of arm’s reach. He sighs as he crouches down next to you, so that he can press the back of his hand to your warm forehead. “Come on, baby girl,” he murmurs, when he sees you peeking at him with one eye. “You should be in bed.”
“I missed–!” You yelp when he easily scoops you up, blanket and all, and carries you to the bedroom. “I missed you,” you say, curving into his embrace, pressing yourself as tightly as you can to his muscled chest. He carefully lays you down on the bed, but you refuse to let him go, your fingers grasping him by his shirt with incredible strength (especially considering how sick you are). “Sorry I missed the show.”
“What are you talkin’ about? You’ve got a fever, (Y/N).” Still, he smiles as he pushes your hair away from your face. “There’ll be plenty more clipping. shows. Just get some sleep.”
“Wait.” His fingers, which are working on releasing yours from his shirt, stall. “Kiss me, please?” you whisper, your voice hoarse.
Daveed exhales patiently before chuckling and pressing a kiss to your forehead. When you whine, he laughs and acquiesces by kissing you gently on the lips. “Alright, baby,” he says, climbing into bed wrapping his arms around you, pulling him right up against his warmth. “Bedtime.”
You smile coyly at Bucky from your perch in his favorite armchair in your living room. He returns your smile, not moving from his place against the doorframe.
“What’s this?” he asks softly, gesturing toward your lack of clothing with a raised eyebrow.
“Just because you’re away on missions all day doesn’t mean we can’t have fun when you get home,” you shrug.
Bucky smirks and stalks toward you. You bite your lip as his blue eyes lock with yours, and don’t notice you’ve stopped breathing until he’s standing right in front of you. Bucky leans forward, placing his hands on your thighs.
“You want to play, kitten?” he asks, staring right into your eyes.
You nod, trying your hardest not to whimper.
“Words, baby,” Bucky breathes.
You lean up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips before answering.
“Yes, I want to play.”
Bucky’s hands move from your thighs to your hips, and you throw your arms around his neck. He smiles as he lifts you up, waiting for you to wrap your legs around his waist before he walks out of the living room and down the hall to your bedroom.
“You know I missed you a lot today, doll,” Bucky whispers. “Been thinkin’ about that pretty pussy all day. Steve kept getting on my ass about getting distracted. But how could I stay focused when I was thinking about coming home to fuck you and hearing those pretty little noises you make for me?”
You gasp at his words, making him chuckle. Subtlety is not one of Bucky’s finer traits.
“I missed you too, Buck,” you mutter, absentmindedly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Yeah? You gonna show me how much?” Bucky asks, opening the door to your bedroom with his foot.
You nod, pulling his mouth to yours. Bucky groans at you having caught him off guard but reciprocates the kiss, trailing his tongue along your bottom lip. You sigh when his tongue touches yours, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer. Bucky smiles against your lips and walks you toward the bed. He lightly taps your thighs, letting you know he wants you to get down. Bucky holds you close as you slowly slide down his body, letting you feel how hard he is. He cups your cheeks in his hands, making you look into his eyes.
“I’m going to blindfold you, alright?”, he asks, searching for any hesitation.
“Alright,” you whisper, earning a smile from Bucky.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “Sit on the bed for me, princess.”
You do as you’re told, watching as Bucky pulls a bandana out of his back pocket. You raise and eyebrow and he smirks.
“I’m always prepared, even on missions.”
He laughs as he folds the blindfold enough so that it will cover your eyes, and leans forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. You close your eyes and lean into the kiss. Bucky ties the cloth around your eyes and pulls away, leaving you to chase his lips. He chuckles, and lightly pushes your shoulder. You frown.
“Lie back and let me take care of you,” Bucky whispers.
His hands grip your thighs as you fall back onto the mattress. Bucky sinks to his knees, marveling at the sight in front of him. He licks his lips as he spreads your legs, ready to taste what he’s been craving all day.