#drew these far apart from each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilsmv1 · 29 days

Text

orange cat - OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?

Word count: 1k

London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.

For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.

At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."

Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.

But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.

Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."

I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.

"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.

"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.

From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.

As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.

Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.

But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.

One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.

A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.

Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.

One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.

"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

"I'm not" I replied defensively.

"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.

I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.

"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."

For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.

"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed

"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.

"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."

"Oh..."

"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.

And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.

#oscar piastri #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff

587 notes · View notes

targaryenluvs · 4 months

Text

— PROTECTOR

pairing: yandere!percy jackson x fem!gf!reader

summary: percy can’t seem to grasp the idea that you can survive just fine on your own.

warnings: arguments, combat, injuries, kinda backwards views/manly views, kind of dark (protective) jealousy, obsessed?? smothering/coddling

a/n: basically he can’t stop worrying, lmk if u want a part 2! sorry it’s short - i already did part two heheh just now

PART TWO

specially for the amazingly talented @lady-ashfade

percy was incessant.

ever since you’d reached camp and gotten settled in, he seemed to be everywhere. whether it be in the mornings at breakfast, at training, when you hung out with your friends, your boyfriend always found away to be right there with you. spacial boundaries be damned.

everyone noticed, they all chalked it up to adorableness. the two of you couldn’t stand to be apart from each other for too long, how adorable was that? but that was only the start. the following along you could put up with, it was quite easy to escape when needed. letting him talk to your friends and get engrossed in the gossip of the ares cabin. excusing yourself from him for lady reasons which never failed to make him red in the face.

it wasn’t as if you were sick of him or anything but you felt smothered. everywhere you turned he was right there, shining smile and ready to talk your ear off. you figured as your relationship progressed and he made more friends, that he’d have his own time.

why would he need friends when he has you?

but your rude awakening came in the form of a training session with a friend.

harry was one of the first people who welcomed you into your cabin, open arms and a warm smile. and percy hated him most. he hated the fact that someone else was able to provide you with the comfort he assumed only could originate from him. anytime the two of you were hanging out hed always inject himself in between the two of you.

“are you trying to burn your marshmallow?” harry laughed at your words whilst retracting his stick, “no but i like it crispy, chocolate melts easier with it.” the two of you had a long day, training with new campers and helping them settle in with luke. even if you didn’t have to, solving a dispute with the ares kids. and even solving the mystery of the stolen shoes. percy had been in the infirmary as a punishment for being out later than usual and accidentally falling from a tree.

he was trying to make sure you were safe in your cabin.

he’d been annoying the apollo kids into letting him out early and at some point they couldn’t take it anymore so they let him go. coming to see you, he didn’t expect to find you sitting next to harry, sharing a marshmallow. of course most people would just see it as a normal sharing but for percy? he wanted to drown the boy. who does he think he is? making a move on his girlfriend just because he’s in the infirmary?

“y/n.” his stern voice drew you from your conversation as you got up, “perce! you’re okay!” you smiled as you walked over to him, percy’s eyes were still trained on the kid. “perce?” you waved your hand in front of his face as percy grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you along, “what the hell? if you want me to come with you then just say so!” you were infront of his cabin now and he did not look happy, “i’m stuck in the infirmary and instead of coming to visit me, you’re hanging out with him?” his voice was filled with disgust, as your expression screamed puzzled.

“i was the first person who visited you! straight away, but you were unconscious for hours! there’s no point in me sitting there, since it’s not going to help you. so i got out of the way and let them do their work. my world doesn’t stop spinning because you’re not there percy.” you were too busy looking at him, his curling fists going unnoticed.

“i’m your boyfriend, not him. i don’t want to see you around him.” your hand slapped over your mouth as you laughed, from far away you might’ve seemed insane. your hands clutched your head, then abdomen as you laughed, “ahaha! oh my god! you’re crazy! you don’t own me, nor control me percy. if you want to be my boyfriend, you need to learn that i am my own person. when you change your attitude, then come back to me.” you walked away from him, before turning around.

“and until then i’m not sleeping here.” you ran inside to pick up your clothes and bag as percy stood in the doorway, “are you serious?” you clutched all of your belongings, as if he’d try to steal them, “yes i am.” surprisingly he let you go, watching you walk back to your own cabin.

the rest of the night he spent thinking of how he could get you back in his grasp. capture the flag was tomorrow, and he had a plan to make you see just how much you needed him.

#pjo x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackson imagine #yandere percy jackson #yandere percy jackson x reader

937 notes · View notes

notmuchtofind · 7 months

Text

"you're doing a sex scene?!" | d.s

word count: 1.8k

tw: mentions of manipulation and aggressive behaviour

synopsis: drew reveals his role requires a sex scene and this causes explosive disagreements | slight fluff slight aggressive

you place the bag groceries on the kitchen counter and begin a sigh of relief, the lift in your apartment block is broken and climbing 5 flights of stairs with 3 bags of groceries isn't so fun..

As you walk over to your hallway to kick off your shoes you hear a few thuds at the door, in a beat you're so familiar with. You were expecting Drew around 9ish, you quickly check your watch to see it's 8:47pm... you giggle to yourself slightly and grin with excitement "he's early" you mumble to yourself . A wave of eagerness rushes over you as you lean over to grab the door handle and twist the recently locked door. opening the door, you look up to see Drew, all sun kissed and beaming. He's been in South Carolina for a couple months shooting the latest season of obx so it doesn't surprise you to see his slight tan, you'd imagine he's topless half the time, so it explains itself...

"baby!" he exclaimed with a devilish yet blissful look on his face

"I've missed you!" you say whilst being engulfed into a hug by drew, you feel his arms wrap around you, becoming tighter with time as you stand there swaying back and forth for a while... He places his hands on you shoulders and pushes you back slightly so he can begin to look at your face.

He places a kiss on your forehead "i've missed you y/n/n" he mutters, he looks almost taken back by you, as he makes eye contact, forcing nerves into the pit of your stomach.

"trust you to come 5 minutes after I've just had to carry all the groceries up the stairs by myself!" you tease

"work those muscles baby" he chuckles

After a few long weeks of being away from each other it's nice to be back in each other's company, Drew helps you put the groceries away and you quickly hop in the shower, you change into your trackies and settle on the couch with Drews head in-between your legs. you run your hands over his buzz cut hair, feeling the individual strands poking at your palm whilst you binge watch.

"hey y/n/n"

"mmhm?" you murmur

"i've been meaning to mention...I think, maybe, like the next season of outer banks; rafe develops a love interest and I... um-"

you're suddenly all ears "a love interest?" you interrupt, sitting up slightly, causing Drew to sit up so he's now facing you on the couch.

"yeh, I think so?" said with slight tension

" but I think Jonas is wanting a few urm...like, a few" he stutters and your eyes widen "some sex scenes between me and Fiona..." He paused as you gave him a slight glance

"You know Fiona, right? you met her when you came to visit me shooting last month?" he questions

Yes, of course you know Fiona, is he kidding!?? she's gorgeous, she's bubbly and she's funny she's-...

'fuck, am I jealous?' you think too yourself

"umm, yeh Fiona, she was really nice when I met her" you state through gritted teeth

drew chuckles nervously "I just thought I should let you know...I mean obviously it's all professional but you know... I-"

"No, don't be silly, I know drew. It's your job. I expect it...obviously " you say, getting up off the couch and heading over to the open plan kitchen...'did that come off slightly passive aggressive?' you think too yourself.

Drew leans back into the couch, watching you from afar, you can feel his eyes burning into your back as you grab a glass from the cupboard.

you're aware it's his job, but surely anyone in this position would feel slightly jealous, he's going to have to act intimate with someone and it's then going to be seen by the rest of the world, you're unaware of how sex scenes operate...how far will it have to go and how much skin will be seen?! uncontrollable thoughts run through your mind, you find yourself questioning the love Drew has for you. Are you good enough? Will an on screen romance become an off screen one? In all fairness, Drew and the cast spend more time together within the 6 months of filming than you and Drew do within that 6 months alone...you feel yourself snap.

by snap I don't mean scream, nor shout, nor cry.

However, there is a slightly toxic side to you, one which is created by past relationships, people that have made you feel less than. Before you met drew, you'd been through some shit and it's always been difficult for you to trust...you're subconsciously 'triggered'

" She's pretty right?" you say, turning to Drew and catching his eyes with yours.

you stand there with an empty glass on the counter as you wait for his response.

"umm.." he stutters, taken back by your question

"she's a nice girl y/n/n...why?"

you nod slowly, pouring a drink into the glass..."yeh,she's a nice girl" you repeat, again, through gritted teeth

Drew squints his eyes over at you as he tries to figure out what your trying to do..."listen baby, its professional, you can't-"

"I can't what?" you interrupt with a slightly raised voice

There was a silence that filled the room.

"I'm going to bed," you murmur as you grab your glass off the counter and take your first step towards your bedroom.

"y/n/n?" drew exclaimes, but you ignore him

"fuck sake" you hear drew mutters under his breath, followed by a sigh as he tilts his head back into the couch.

Darting your head over to his direction, you interrogate.

"Am I too much for you?" you exclaim

"what?" drew says confused whilst frowning "no y/n I-"

you interrupted "so why are you making me feel like you dealing with my emotions is a chore?!"

"Yes, I'm slightly pissed off drew. but there's nothing I can do about it. just let me have some time, don't sigh at me like I'm so difficult for you?" you say, raising your voice slightly more. He stands up and raises his hands slightly in-front of his chest whilst he gestures "are you fucking kidding me?" he chuckles sarcastically. "I've hardly said a word this whole time, you're being manipulative y/n. stop?" he demands

"manipulative? drew? really?"

Drew walks over to you, and you can now see slight anger in his eyes, his energy feels cold.

"yes!" he exclaims, he comes close to your face and continues to gesture "asking me if I think she's pretty? What kind of question is that? you're trying to catch me out y/n?!" he lashes

"I was just asking you a question drew I-"

"are you fucking kidding me!? you want me to turn around and tell you that, yeh! yanno what, I cant wait to fuck her!? is that what you want? please tell me y/n '' drew shouts.

you're taken back by his aggressive body language and his raised voice and the words he's just spoken. you can feel slight tears forming in the back of your retina, the ball in your stomach grows bigger and you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You're not usto arguing with Drew so explosively, you're not used to seeing his aggressive body language and if you're honest, it scared you. you could either lash out, you could scream...but you're suddenly engulfed by a wave of upset.

"I'm going to bed" you state. turning on the balls of your feet to continue to walk down the hall. A single tear escapes your eye but you're waiting to reach the bathroom before you can let all your emotions overwhelm your being. you didn't give yourself time to see the expression on Drews face after he'd stopped shouting but you didn't have to look to tell that he instantly regretted what he said, you could feel his energy change as you walked away.

_________________

you've turned to face the wall, struggling to sleep when...A few thuds at your bedroom door, in the beat you're again, so familiar with. you haven't been able to fall asleep and to be honest you were hoping Drew would knock and come in, he knows you hate sleeping without resolving an argument. it could be the biggest argument or the smallest argument you've ever had but you always make sure to have it somewhat sorted out before either of you say goodnight, whether he's 3000 miles away or just next door.

"hey y/n/n" drew whispers as you heard the door shut quietly behind him but you didn't turn around. "hey...are you sleeping?" he questions before you feel the bed slightly dip and a creak from the headboard.

It takes you a minute but you eventually turn around, to be greeted by the back of Drew, he looks to have his head in his hands sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm awake" you mutter.

He turns slightly, greeting you with an apologetic smile, he then goes to grab your exposed arm and rubs it with his thumb. his energy is warm and calm, much different too before. it makes the nerves form again in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies. "Listen baby" he states "I'm sorry about the shit I said and urm... the way I raised my voice. my actions were out of order and for that i'm sorry..." he sighs apologetically

There was a slight silence whilst you thought of what to say, but before you could speak he began again "you know I love you? right? It upsets me that you worry about my opinions on anyone else because, I'm sorry but, in my mind no one compares to you y/n/n, I honestly do think you are. thé. most." drew emphasises "perfect girl in the world for me" he finishes, looking at you with a devilish grin

he knows how to capture your heart...you roll your eyes playfully trying to shy away from the fact he's made you weak... whilst a smile creeps upon your face you push his arm and chuckle slightly.

you sigh.

"i'm sorry about my outburst, it was out of order" you admit "I was slightly jealous and I-"

"only slightly?!" drew says with a sarcastic shocked faces as he interrupts you, playfully teasing

"fuck off" you chuckle, pushing his arm

"Yes, it's because everyone wants you...what can I say, it's hard being me!" rolling your eyes, teasing him back

He engulfs you into a hug and plants kisses all over your face and neck, almost like he's attacking you. you giggle and say stop, but really you need him to carry on.

"fuck! I love you drew"

"fuck... I love you" he reiterates.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #the other zoey #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outer banks #obx #rafe obx #fluff #fanfic #zach maclaren

1K notes · View notes

hybbart · 3 months

Text

Day 2170: Jimmy makes the mistake of searching for their missing goat...

Short story below

It started with a head count of the sheep, when Jimmy realized three were missing. Three sheep and one obnoxious ruddy goat he never seemed able to shake no matter how early in the morning they took off or how distracted it was when they did so. They weren’t his sheep. For all he knew, Bigb had come along and taken them to slaughter (Three at once was far too much for their flock) or for shearing (there weren’t any that needed shearing). But the stupid goat missing even when Jimmy placed himself in prime headbutting position right in front of the manure stall was too strange to ignore. So, he went on a search.

The first thing he should have done was tell Tango. Jimmy wanted to, but it had been over a week since he saw the man before dinner. Besides, there was no way to know if he was somewhere Jimmy could reach. They let Tango have free reign so he could work, but without Bigb’s escort Jimmy’s movement within the so-called kingdom was limited. So, he stupidly wandered off alone after his work, straining his flight muscles to do so. No one told an avian where they could go.

He heard the ear splitting scream first. Distressed bleats, drowned out by the shuffling of feet and groans of the dead. It led him to the edge of Ren’s kingdom, beyond reinforced fences. Stubbornness more than anything flew him over it. The stupid goat screamed again, echoing through the buildings that were growing in height. It was coming from the overpass.

A ruddy face poked over the rail, and then screamed at Jimmy. “You wretched little beast, what are you doing?” He shouted back at it. Jimmy could hear them above, dozens if not hundreds of stumbling steps just out of sight, and the terrified bleats. He sprinted up the walkway. Just grab the stupid goat and run.

Then he tripped. Over what he never saw, something that seemed like it hadn’t been there. But he tripped nonetheless, and he went face first into the pavement. Jimmy had barely pushed up off the ground, ready to yell at the goat standing only a few feet ahead for causing him so much trouble. Then the ground exploded. Instinct pulled him into the air, but he was too caught off-guard to fly and only tossed himself up further. At least he wore his coat, or his arms might not have any skin left from how far he skidded across the pavement.

The world spun. His ears rang. Something snapped its pus and algae-coated jaws right in Jimmy’s face. He stumbled back into the stupid goat. Zombies. A whole pack. They completely surrounded them, held back only by feeble makeshift barriers that were already starting to collapse. The sheep trotted about, searching for an escape that no longer existed. It only riled the zombies further.

Of course this was how he would die. The world ends and he finds paradise with his rancher in the middle of it all for a few years, only to have it burnt out from under him and get torn apart alone in a city street anyways. He hated that stupid goat so much.

A rattle and crack. The first barrier fell. Zombies roared to life, shoving each other so they might get to Jimmy first. He tried to flutter away but the ground was suddenly above him and his wings slapped uselessly against a rail. In the far distance beyond the ring of his bones and blood in his veins he thought he heard his name.

The world went dark, then exploded. Once there was a zombie reaching out for him and then there was blood-splattered ivory. The force with which the spikes locked together created a gust that knocked Jimmy and the surrounding zombies onto their butts. They slowly drew apart, serrated edges grinding away what little flesh had not popped like a rotten egg. In the brief moment the rest of the zombies were stunned an enormous paw slammed down, crushing several zombies beneath.

Jimmy stared up in stunned silence as a form loomed over them. A great beast of a dog, if the dog’s ribs and shoulders had been replaced with human bones and forced into something vaguely reminiscent of a human chest under all the canine musculature. Limbs extended for bipedal motion bent into a quadrupedal position.

Existence look painful, in so many ways. It took it out on unaware zombies. They clawed and bit at its flesh but they were little more than fleas, lacking even the strength to penetrate its thick hide through all its fur. The beast let them, so focused on tearing others apart.

One zombie dragged its half-body all the way up its muzzle, reaching for its eye. Then its head was gone. Tattered remains of its skull splattered across the beast’s cheek while an explosion burnt Jimmy’s ears. A second shot, right through its chest, and the corpse fell away while the beast howled a too-human noise.

“Jimmy!”

“Stop, don’t go up there!”

Jimmy’s ears twitched at the familiar voice of his rancher through the ringing, accompanies by Skizz’s voice. His head swivelled behind him, where the back half of the beast’s body hung off the side of the overpass. A single set of black claws clambered over its back. Jimmy let out a distressed whistle, the most his numb body could do in that moment, when Tango leapt across the gap onto the sidewalk and nearly smacked face first into railing. He recovered quickly in his panicked state, eyes wildly searching until they landed on Jimmy and he bolted towards him. “Jimmy, are you okay?!”

“Are you okay.” He repeated back thoughtlessly, reaching out for his rancher as he collapsed beside the avian. “What-”

There was another roar. The beast moved above them. Both ducked into one another. A paw the size of the abandoned cars swatted at a patch of zombies. Panic began to truly set in. Tango’s terror was palpable and soaked through the shock until Jimmy’s wings beat against the concrete. Fly, far away.

“Hey, you jerks!” Skizz landed on the road behind them, grabbing at the stupid goat before it could ram him. “Stop messing around and let’s get outta here!”

They scrambled to their feet, not needing to be told twice. Jimmy almost asked about the goat before he saw it bounding ahead of them like scaling a giant dog-man was typical. There was no time to relax even on the ground, as Skizz yanked them away towards a door. Bigb was already there, cautiously holding it open and trying to hold Revy back. He barricaded the doorway as soon as they were through. Another bang rang outside which Jimmy could now identify as a gunshot.

Frazzled and on an adrenaline rush, Tango pushed past Revy’s worried whines and went straight for the two men. “What the heck was that!”

“Top, buddy, calm down-”

“Don’t tell me to be calm!” He snapped as his fire prickled down his back. “What. Was that.”

Skizz and Bigb glanced at each other warily. “This isn’t exactly how we wanted to tell you guys.” Bigb scratched the back of his head.

“Well, too bad. We’re not leaving this room until you do. That hing nearly squishificated my rancher!”

“Is that what the sheep are for?” Jimmy’s voice came out airy and high, still gasping for breaths. He could feel his heart pounding in the veins of his neck. Revy practically crawled into his lap, trying to lick away the anxiousness as it bled into the poor pup. “Are you keeping something like that as some sort of zombie killing pet? Are you mad?”

Skizz let out a humourless laugh. “A pet! Don’t let Martyn hear that!”

“Shh.” Bigb chastised before taking a deep breath. “That’s not a pet, it’s Ren.”

“Ren?” Jimmy repeated in disbelief.

“It happens like once a month. He just grows and grows all day until he’s... That.”

“And he doesn’t stop until he gets tired.” Skizz interjected. His arms waved wildly. “So we- it was Martyn’s idea. We distract him with the zombies. That way he doesn’t destroy anything. We’ve cleared out half the city with him! And... And, y’know, it’s a ton of fertilizer for the gardens and stuff. It’s like a win-win.”

It was far from what Jimmy would call a win-win. They’d run into many a strange way of living after the end of the world, but this certainly took the cake. And it was one he had no desire to join in on. “We’re leaving.” He declared bluntly, finally pulling himself up off the floor. Tango gave a firm nod as well, joining his rancher’s side.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

It was Martyn, rifle in hand and pointed directly at the ranchers. They huddled together.

“Martyn, c’mon.” Skizz tried to defuse, but backed off when Martyn nudged his rifle towards him for the briefest moment.

“We had a deal. You get your stuff back and then you help us fix the farms. You owe us.”

Jimmy gaped. “You set us up! Don’t think I don’t know!” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bigb flinch, and that was all Jimmy needed to know he was right on the money. “We aren’t gonna live around that thing!”

But Martyn didn’t back down, glaring daggers into them. “Ren can’t help what he is. You got a problem with us making the best of a bad situation?”

“I have a problem with you not telling us one of you turns into a giant murder dog!”

“You wouldn’t have even known if you didn’t go snooping where you shouldn’t!”

“Well, forgive me for not trusting the people with a huge zombie pit who tricked us into being here in the first place!”

“Okay, let’s calm down.” Skizz finally interjected. He paused, waiting to see if they would comply. Jimmy wanted so badly to continue yelling. If it weren’t for them they’d be out on the road still instead of here. They wouldn’t have burnt through so many supplies trying to look for their animals. Jimmy wouldn’t have nearly suffocated several times between the separation and getting their stuff back. Tango would still have his prosthetic intact instead of struggling through the work they pushed onto him one-handed just to earn some scraps.

Martyn finally lowered his gun, glaring at the wall instead of them now. “This is exactly why we didn’t tell you. What else are we supposed to do? If you’re going to be annoying about it at least blame me, Ren’s been nothing but accommodating. You could at least return the courtesy.”

“Accommodating?” Jimmy squawked, wings flared against the ceiling. “Tango hasn’t had a day off in a week, it’s like you’re intentionally not giving him any time to work on rebuilding his arm!”

“Jim.” Tango murmured, voice wary. Jimmy knew what he would say. We’re outnumbered, they have a gun, I still need an arm, you’re not recovered you need to calm your breathing, there’s still a giant dog tearing everything apart outside. All of the many very valid reasons not to pick a fight here and now. Jimmy didn’t want to hear them out loud. He wanted to scream.

Bigb’s the one to step forward. “Look I think we’ve all just... gotten off on the wrong foot!”

Jimmy bristled. “The wrong-”

“If it’s information you want, I think we can give you that. Right?” Martyn looked ready to protest, but Skizz hurriedly nodded in agreement before he could speak up. There was a crash outside that sent Martyn running to his king’s aid, muttering something aggressive over Bigb’s shoulder before he stormed out. “Right. But maybe we should move this somewhere else while we talk?”

The ranchers shared a look. There was nothing Jimmy would prefer more than to tell them to shove it and run off, but Revenge’s whine reminded him they still had their stuff scattered about the kingdom. Tango gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “... Fine. But anymore threats and we’re out of here!” He snapped between gasps. Breathing was becoming difficult.

Skizz and Bigb agreed, solemn as they navigated the group back to the rec building. The closer they got to the more of Ren’s subjects appeared, going about their day, wilfully oblivious to the groans and roars that still vibrated in Jimmy’s ears.

What mess had they stumbled their way into?

707 notes · View notes

shepherdsheart · 9 months

Text

Forgotten Child

DpxDc

Bruce would admit that he wasn’t near a perfect man. In all truth he was far from it really.

He had made hundreds of mistakes through his life and he had hoped he had learned something from them all but there was one mistake that stood out more than anything else.

The box in his hands had been proof of such, everything in it entailed just how badly he had failed. Failed as a man, failed as a person but most of all how he failed as a father.

It all started a year before he welcomed Dick into his life. It was one of his biggest regrets but also one of his biggest blessings as he stared at the new born baby boy in his arms. Soft blue wrapped around the little boy like tight arms as he held the sleeping baby close.

He had drilled that moment into his memories as he held the soft little bundle. It would be his first and his last memory of the boy in his arms. He knew the moment the pregnancy was announced that he wouldn’t be able to keep the babe. His life as Batman was to dangerous for a baby and as such he had made the decision to hand his baby to someone else.

Nobody but a trusted few would ever know of the young babe, no one would know Batman or Bruce Wayne had a son.

It had taken time and research but he had picked the perfect family. They would take care of his little star, he would be their son and not his. He would grow up safe and protect as Daniel Thomas Marshal.

Or at least he thought so.

Bruce didn’t give up contact with Daniel, each year he would send the boy anonymous gifts for his birthday and the holidays just as the elusive Uncle B. And as the boy grew they often exchanged letters.

His boy was smart, the top of his class and he was ohh so brilliant. He often drew pictures for Bruce where then man would store each with the letters in a box for sage keeping. Things had gone that way for years and Danny and he talked about many things. Bruce talked about life and Danny liked to talk about stars and the things he learned at school.

It had all been going so well till it all fell apart.

Jason had died and Bruce fell apart, losing himself in his grief for his lost child. Somewhere along the line after Jason’s death Bruce had stopped responding to the letters young Danny sent. He couldn’t bear to read them while he grieved Jason and at one point he must have told Alfred to just store them in Daniels letter box in instead of bringing them to him.

Somehow he had forgotten, he had forgotten the letters of messy cursive and doodles of stars and galaxy’s. Stories of school or life in the farm where he was being raised out in Wisconsin.

It was only because of his children that he remembered. A normal day of roughhousing and being shooed away by Alfred to take their antics elsewhere while he cleaned.

The kids had decided to take their games to the halls between there room and Damian and Jason to pick a locked door of a spare room that was never used and always locked. The others would never think to check the room as it was never opened.

The boys weren’t expecting to find a old but well cared for nursery. The walls a soft blue, the The ceilings dark blue with plastic stars in the patters of constellations. A crib in one corner with space themed decor and a small bed in the middle of the room obviously for when the crib was outgrown.

On the far wall was multiple shelves with a few old toys along with books and many other small items. Then there were the picture frames scattered about the shelves and other furniture in the room. All had one thing in common, a boy with soft black hair and ice blue eyes but each photo the boy was more grown.

At first they thought it was Bruce but the photos were to new and Bruce didn’t have ice blue eyes. The boy was in a picture with his parents, a blond woman with blue eyes and a Black haired man with green eyes. Those weren’t Bruce’s parents so who were they and who was the child that was in each photo.

Before they could snoop any further the door had been opened and a Stern Alfred shooed them away.

It didn’t take long for the boys to question Bruce about the room he had long ago forgotten about. Bruce didn’t say a word as he had rushed over to the room that he had long sense abandoned before he closed himself inside.

There Bruce had cried, he had forgotten one of his children and he cried as he looked at the photos.

He had spent hours in that room before a wooden box to the side on a Dresser caught his attention. He knew exactly what that box contained and he dreaded opening it.

When he found the courage to lift the lid he was greeted by hundreds of letters. A portion opened but most were untouched, never opened to be read.

He’d spend the next few weeks slowly going through the letters. Danny wasn’t sure why he hadn’t responded but the boy wrote that even though he didn’t get a response he hoped the letters were reaching him.

He learned soon after Jason’s death when Danny was 10 that the Marshals had died leaving Danny to the State only to be adopted by a family called the Fentons a year later.

After that Danny’s letters became less detailed and more vague about his life but instead asking questions Bruce would never answer. The boy avoided talking about his home life and manly talked about school and his 2 new friends or he’d ask about Bruce, how he was doing? If he was ok? And so on. Somehow Danny never gave up writing to Bruce.

That was until the last letter, sent over a year ago in handwriting Bruce didn’t recognize. Jasmine, Danny’s adopted sister had written that dated letter over a year ago.

Over a year ago Danny had been killed, killed in an accident in the Fentons Lab. No body left to be buried only the address of an empty grave.

Notes

(Danny is 11 years younger than Dick, 4 years younger than Jason, 2 years younger than Tim, 4 years older than Damian)

Damian - 11

Danny - 15

Tim - 17

Jason - 19

Dick - 26

(Danny is Phantom but when he died he decided he didn’t want to deal with an abusive Jack and Maddie anymore so he continued on as phantom only being Danny with his friends and in the realms when he was safe with Allies)

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dc x dp fic #danny fenton #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover

1K notes · View notes

inmyloveworld · 6 months

Text

in a world of boys (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~1.5k

synposis: dating was hard. tiptoeing the line between casual and official always had you stumbling. and bradley, in spite of how good he made you feel, was no exception.

warnings: insecurity, allusions to anxiety (spiraling thoughts, disassociating, just a LOT of self-doubt and questioning)

a/n: i have cute fluff ideas i swear! but writing from experience always just gets the words flowing. here's to hoping we all find someone as emotionally mature and empathetic as bradley bradshaw.

bonus note: i looped slut by taylor swift writing a majority of this oops

The words had always come easy to you. Every conversation was effortless, no matter what the context. Quips and jokes flowed through you as the blood flowed through your veins. It never took careful thought or pondering. But pondering was consuming you as your fingers hovered over the letters at the bottom of your screen.

Bradley and you had been seeing each other for nearly two months. Late-night rides in his Bronco and one overnight at your apartment had filled the weeks since you had first bumped into him at the Hard Deck. His charm and humor lit up your days. His heart and warmth soothed you in moments of weakness. And for once, you had opened yourself to all of it; to all of him.

There was no limit to the dishonesty and complacency you'd been shown in your prior dating history. Bradley was neither of these things, as far as you were aware. Yet, the lack of clarity for what he felt was beginning to plant a sick feeling in your gut.

Things were going so well. Never had you felt more assured in someone's affection and interest in you. Never had you felt more cared for and adored. You loathed yourself to think of gambling that for the sake of your security.

Me: Hey.. not to ruin the mood, but I was just wo

Pathetic. Delete.

Me: Is this just a sex thing?

Abrasive. Delete.

You groaned to yourself in frustration. Judging by your history, this would only end one way. Still, you weren't sure how much longer you could bear the fluttering in your chest under the guise of nonchalance.

Me: I really like what's between us right now. But can I ask where you think this is going?

Here we go.

You hit the 'send' arrow before you could think through it for another second. God, why did this have to be so complicated? Were you the source of all the complications, with your need for control to figure out how everything had to go? Was this the reason no one would commit to you in the past? Or was the dating world simply reduced to nothing but souls too fearful to stick it out, for what could be lying ahead of them? Were you settling? Were you making him settle?

Two buzzes of your phone jolted you in your seat.

Flyboy: I think it'd be better to talk about this in person. You up for a drive?

Oh god.

You sent back an answer and ran your hands through your hair. Tears started to prick at your eyes already as a familiar sinking feeling settled in. Quickly, you were trying to soothe yourself with the small comforts of the situation.

His car always felt musty anyway.

You won't have to worry about accidental pregnancy!

It's face-to-face, at least. Maybe you'll get proper closure for once.

A dozen other weightless sentiments were stacked in your head by the time you heard the purr of a familiar engine outside. You drew in a deep breath, collected yourself as much as possible, and swiped up your keys.

Flyboy: Here!

You didn't even open the text thread, opting to keep your head bowed as you locked your front door. Goosebumps rose along your skin as it met the night air. With much effort, you inhaled deeply. Your feet were leaden as you trudged toward the Bronco.

All the darkness swirling in your head gave way to that bright smile Bradley held just for you. Something in your chest twisted sharply at the show of affection. Every moment of this adoration passing was the last, you reminded yourself. This drive would loop you right back to the somber state you were in before the greatest man you'd ever known walked into your life.

"Hey there, angel," he greeted. The rasp in his voice warmed you the same way a glass of whiskey would. Steadily, slowly, and then all at once.

"Hi," you called back as you hopped in the passenger side. You kept your gaze ahead, hands beginning a nervous pattern of threading fingers. Bradley raised a brow at the action but didn't call further attention to it. His eyes hooked to the road as he pulled the pair of you off into the night.

There was almost an ache in the absence of his hand on your thigh. Both of the worthy appendages anchored themselves to the wheel, no yield in their grip.

Safe driving; he's just practicing safe driving. It's a late night, dark even with the street lamps, and the Bronco's headlights didn't match the brightness of modern LEDs.

But perhaps it's the first thing to go. Bradley needed to take the first baby step away from this.. whatever it was. And he was having you take it with him.

Was there something you did? Maybe the night you spent together had been too soon. Or maybe you had been too forthcoming in your own intent, without clarity on his own.

You never let things simmer. You always had to know, that eternal impatience winning out against the chance of a simple slow burn. But maybe this wasn't meant to take that direction; maybe that's not what Bradley wanted.

Would anyone ever want that? Was it just that they didn't want it with you? What was so wrong with you? Were you so horribly broken to everyone else that no relationship could ever be fulfilled? What were you not seeing in yourself?

"Hey, earth to angel." An empty parking lot surrounded you. The sounds of crashing waves and the warm autumn breeze replaced the storm of neverending thoughts ringing in your ears. Bradley had his hand on your arm, the first touch he'd granted you the whole evening, the touch that broke your trance. His brows were furrowed again in concern as he scanned your sorrow-filled face. Not wanting to startle you further, he kept his voice soft. "Talk to me. What's going on in there?"

You took a moment to compose yourself. Your eyes shut as you drew in another deep breath, letting it out with a drop of your shoulders. And then, you told him.

Each one of your fears and anxieties, a summation of how your heart and body were carelessly juggled in the past, how you found yourself at fault in every instance. How even in that moment, when everything seemed to be right with him, something had clearly gone wrong out of your view and it was all about to crash. But it wasn't on him, you insisted. It was on you.

The waves and breeze continued to sound long after your voice faded from the air. Tears pricked at your eyes slowly in sullen acceptance. You had nailed your own coffin shut with this whole conversation. You should have stayed silent. Being lost on your path was better than taking an exit, wasn't it?

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Look at me." Bradley was an emotional man, you had come to learn. He wore his heart out on his sleeve the moment he felt safe enough. So, the absence of emotion from his voice churned your stomach worse than anything else. You met his eyes sheepishly, preparing for a more brutal "break-up" than you originally anticipated.

He sighed, the hand on your arm shifting up to cup your cheek. The touch warmed you and drew the tears from your eyes at once. Droplets rolled down your cheeks in single strands, yet you could not bother yourself with embarrassment. This would be the last he would see of you.

Bradley chuckled. "I did this all wrong, didn't I?"

What was there to laugh about? Had he meant to be more direct in his lack of intent, or in ending things-

"My mom's yelling at me from up there, I know it."

What?

Bewildered was the perfect word for your changed expression. And Bradley now knew better than to let you sit on coded messages.

He took your hands into his, rubbing soft circles along your knuckles as he told you, "I'm serious about this, angel. About us, you. I have been from the get-go."

A flurry of feelings coursed through you. Shock and relief mixed with the confusion still lingering behind in the wake of this confession. It was as if you didn't believe what you were hearing, because part of you really didn't. The part of you that had doubted a silver lining to your history of heartbreak was incapable of believing in a resolution.

You didn't know how to accept it or respond. Excitement was chomping at the bit to break your otherwise unsettled demeanor, but fear still held a tight grip on the reins. "Are.. are you sure?"

Bradley could've laughed again, the question ridiculous in his mind. Being with you was as clear as day to him. The ways in which you eased his soul, sparked life back up amidst his dreary routines, and made him picture a future ahead was something he knew he could not be without. He now realized his failure in communicating as such to the person needing to hear it most.

So he held back the laugh and held your hands instead. "I've never been more sure of anything than I am of you."

tags: @avengersfan25

#bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #top gun x reader #top gun rooster #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

663 notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 3 months

Note

Okay so I absolutely ADORE 'The Bucket List' and was wondering if you would consider writing a 'what happens next' with Grace and Charles? Those two NEEEEEEEEED a happily ever after!

Pwetty pwease?

Five Years Later || CL16

A/N: I never planned for Grace and Charles to be together, but they are each other’s support. Warnings: labour and delivery WC: 1.9k

The Bucket List || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments

“Maman, it’s time,” Charles rushed, a little breathless over the phone.

Pascale almost dropped the phone as she clambered out of bed and knocked on Arthur’s door. He had stayed the night to help entertain Angel who was asleep in Charles’ childhood room and he startled awake at the intrusion. “Get the car, it’s time.”

“It’s time?” Arthur echoed excitedly before rushing to get his car keys and wake up Angel. She didn’t seem too impressed to be woken up before dawn but she soon bounced excitedly when Arthur told her it was time to go.

“How is Grace doing?” Pascale asked Charles as she got herself ready to leave.

Charles looked at Grace who was pacing around his living room, one hand pressed against her lower back, her face pinched in pain, while the other hand cradled the swell of her belly.

“She’s doing amazing, but she’s eager for some pain relief.”

Many people thought the relationship between Charles and Grace was strange. They weren’t together, yet they were never far apart. They were like two broken branches grafted back into the same scarred tree. The parts that were missing could never be replaced, but they realised that their company was better together than being alone.

That was why she was the only one he could trust to be the surrogate mother.

Between all the medical procedures, Charles hadn’t really remembered that you froze your eggs to save them from being damaged by the chemo. The plan had been to use them when you were better, but when that didn’t happen Charles thought they would go unused. It was only a letter that arrived on the fifth anniversary of the procedure that reminded him, with an update of the egg's health status. It had taken a few more months before he plucked up the courage to talk to your parents about it and then ask Grace instead of a stranger.

“We’ll see you at the maternity ward,” Charles said with a wince as another contraction drew a pained groan from his friend. The retired world champion had known exhaustion, but after a night of supporting Grace to labour in his apartment he had a new appreciation for what it really meant.

Everything had been planned and prepared for this day so Charles was ready to bring home his little boy. His room had been painted a pale pastel blue and was decorated with picture frames so he would always recognise your face as his mother watching over him. A white sleigh cot was set up against one wall with the best baby monitor money could buy. Opposite it sat a set of drawers that held more baby clothes than he could ever need and beside it was a fully stocked changing table with newborn nappies stacked high.

Charles grabbed the hospital bag from the table and slung it over his shoulder before going to Grace. He grabbed her phone and drink bottle from the coffee table and turned off the calming piano music she had been listening to before helping her swollen feet into her slippers. “Ready?” he asked softly as he offered his elbow to keep her steady.

“Mhmm,” was all she could muster.

Though he had healed a lot in the years that had passed, more so once meeting Angel and Grace, there was still a pain in his joy when he thought that it should have been you carrying his child. Charles liked to think that he still felt you there with him through all of it, the milestones and scans, and that it wasn’t all in his head.

There was a bowl of cool water that Charles had been using to wash the sweat from Grace’s forehead but he didn’t bother to tidy it up before he left, same with the half empty plate of snacks she had tried to eat between contractions. His sole focus was on getting Grace to the hospital as quickly and comfortably as possible.

Charles knew you would have been proud of the effort he went to in learning everything about pregnancy and newborns. It felt like he had bought every book and watched every youtube video, as well as attending the local Antenatal Class. He admitted it was hard to attend the class when everywhere he looked were happy couples excited for their first child. Grace had smiled and squeezed his hand, as always, knowing exactly how he was feeling.

“Chosen his name yet?” Grace asked as she eased into the front seat slowly, straining to fit the belt around her large belly.

“I’ll know when I look at him,” he said with a shake of his head. He had a dozen names that he liked but he wanted something that suited him so he would wait a few hours more before deciding. “It has to feel right, you know?”

Grace gripped the door handle and the edge of the seat as another contraction began. Her eyes watered and her deep breaths shuddered for a minute until it passed and she sighed with relief. “Angel was meant to be Frangelica, but when she was born it just didn’t match.”

Charles laughed as he tried to picture Angelique with any other name. No, Angel suited her just right because she had saved him the day they met.

The streets were quiet as he took the turns slow and smooth, winding his way through the city that was barely beginning to wake as dawn approached. Thankfully the hospital was already expecting him and they had a wheelchair ready as he pulled up.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Charles promised before parking the car and rushing up to the maternity ward. He skidded to a stop outside the only door with voices and Grace lay on the bed in a gown.

“I’m sorry, you’re too far along for pain relief,” the midwife said as she draped the sheet back down. “Baby is already starting to crown. You have done so well, mama.”

“Oh, I’m not the mother,” she said as Charles stepped into the room, casually clearing the situation up with a smile. “I’m a surrogate for Charles.”

There had been a comment made by the media early on in the pregnancy when news broke, that Grace would try to be the mother once the baby was born. It would have been a lie to say Charles didn’t think about that possibility, but Grace had her child with the love of her life, Gabriel, and had long decided she would never have a child with another man - she felt it would be a betrayal to their memory. This child was yours and Charles, and your memory would live on through her.

“That’s beautiful,” the midwife said with a reassuring smile as she turned her attention to Charles. “There’s a spare gown in the bathroom, you can change into that if you want to have skin to skin bonding once baby is born.”

Charles had read that skin to skin contact helped newborns bond with their parents and he grinned as he stepped into the bathroom. He had never changed so fast as he heard Grace’s pained cry but the midwife was calm and talking gently as she morphed the bed to a seated position.

“You are doing so well, Grace. You might feel the urge to push with the next contractions, just do what feels natural, okay, hun,” the midwife, Ann, as her name tag read, encouraged. “I’m just going to hit the call button but there is nothing to worry about, it’s just to have an extra set of hands because it looks like the little one is making a quick arrival.”

Charles wasn’t even aware that Grace’s gown had fallen away until he saw her stomach tighten around the undeniable shape of a small body and she clenched her teeth together, dipping her chin down with a guttural cry. He had to remember to breathe as the midwife encouraged Grace to push, then rest.

“Okay, this is the one, we need one last big push,” Ann guided. “I know you’re tired but you can do this.”

Grace’s hand nearly broke Charles’ as she squeezed with the push and then the little boy was there. An exhilarated gasp escaped Charles as he saw his son lifted upright, his face purple before he took his first gulping of air and rattled out a cry after filling his lungs. Colour quickly returned to his cheeks and another midwife wrapped him in a warm towel.

“My boy,” Charles laughed as tears rolled freely down his cheeks and he looked at Grace. “Thank you.”

“I would say anytime, but-” she choked out a laugh and settled back into the pillows before another contraction began.

“What’s that?” Charles asked. He had a pair of scissors in his hand that another midwife had given him to cut the cord, but suddenly he panicked thinking there was a twin.

“Just the placenta being birthed,” Ann assured him, a smile teasing her lips like she was often asked the question with the same worried tone by fathers. “You can cut now, just here.”

Charles’ steadied his hand and found he underestimated how tough the cord would be, before gripping the scissors tighter and snipping through. “Can I…hold him?”

There was a bustle of activity as the mother midwife and a nurse made Grace comfortable, but Charles was fully focused on the tiny bundle that Ann carried towards him. “Take a seat, papa.”

Charles grinned at the new title and took a seat, opening the gown over his chest so she could place his son onto the warmth his body offered. Already, there were tufts of dark hair on his head and Charles brushed his fingers over it feeling how soft they were. His son blinked at the touch, squirming against the lights before settling against Charles’ chest and looking up.

Your eyes. Those were your eyes, set above Charles’ nose. Those were Charles’ dimples appearing on his cheeks beside your lips. A brilliant balance of his and your features wrapped up in a baby born to be loved. His lips parted silently, as if he were experiencing the same sense of awe that Charles did. It was the same look he had seen on your face as you watched the dawn rise and the light chase away the dark when you couldn’t sleep.

“Lucas,” he murmured as he delicately stroked his cheek and stared in amazement at the wonder he held. Lucas, it had been one name he liked because it meant bringer of light. It felt as if the flaking chips from his rusty heart were falling away with each second he held his son, and beneath the damage and decay it shined anew.

“It’s perfect,” Grace agreed with a tired smile.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Enjoy this moment, Charles.” She seemed wistful for a second. “Before you know it they are walking, then running, and there’s no catching them then. Promise me you’ll enjoy this moment.”

Of all the people, he didn’t need reminding of how cruel time could be. But he had learned how to cherish the time he had, it was the last and the hardest lesson you had taught him.

“I promise.” His promise was to Grace, his promise was to Lucas, and his promise was to you. He wouldn’t waste a second of his life, not now that he had the most precious gift to live for.

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

290 notes · View notes

bellaxgiornata · 7 months

Text

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: This one is entirely in Matt's POV and I'm curious to see how y'all react to his side of things! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably@two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @thychuvaluswife @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music

The ear-splitting and repeated honking of car horns on the street below harshly woke Matt, the sound shrill and piercing first thing in the morning. Seconds later the continuing noise drew forth a pounding headache that reverberated painfully in his head. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he rolled onto his side with a groan, his entire body loudly protesting the movement. He could feel a few new bruises he'd added to the others already scattered around his body, the new ones violently throbbing along his lower back and his left shoulder as consciousness abruptly returned to him.

Matt had been out well into the early morning hours running around Hell’s Kitchen tracking a man by the name of Petrov. He was the man that Matt had recently come to learn was the current leader of the Russian mafia now settled in his city. All of last night he had been trying to figure out where the new shipment of drugs would be coming into Hell's Kitchen at, but he'd yet again come home without the information he'd wanted. In a sour mood, he'd taken his anger out on a mugger while returning to his apartment, leaving the man more battered than he probably should have.

And his sour mood quickly returned when he realized he was alone in his bed again, the cold from the lack of you often curled under the sheets with him exceptionally noticeable this morning–more than it had been for the past few weeks. Because you had left him, deciding not to stay and wait for him to return the other night. Leaving him like everyone else always did, unable to accept that he and the Devil were the same man. That he needed to let that other side of himself out to protect Hell’s Kitchen.

He'd heard the way you'd slammed the door on your way out of his apartment that night. He knew how hurt and upset you’d been. But when you’d started crying because he had been planning to go out again, he'd wanted to comfort you– tried to–but you'd rejected him so easily instead. And that hurt him deeply. Because Matt had always thought you were different, that you understood him. That you loved him for who he was–you'd certainly always assured him that you did.

But it sure as hell hadn’t felt like that to him the other night. Not with how quick you were to reject him and walk out on him. You’d never tried to reach out to him all of Friday, either. Whatever important thing you’d wanted to discuss with him the other night must’ve been what he’d initially suspected it to be. That you wanted to end the relationship. Truthfully he hadn’t wanted to hear you say the words out loud which was partially why he didn’t want to give you a chance to speak.

Matt knew he'd been canceling plans on you repeatedly, though he admittedly hadn't realized just for how long he'd been doing it with the way his days had been blurring together from his lack of proper sleep. But it hadn't been intentional. He hadn't meant to hurt you and he'd felt terrible every single time he had. It always nagged at him while he was out, the memory of the way your heart stuttered each and every time you saw him in his suit never far from his mind as he tried to focus on his late night task.

And it wasn't like he was out cheating on you or ditching you for his friends. What he was doing was the equivalent of being needed at a job–because that's how he saw what he did. As a responsibility he had to the people of Hell’s Kitchen. He'd honestly thought he'd be able to make it up to you once he'd gotten the situation with the Russians under control, but apparently he wasn't important enough for you to wait for him. And sure, he had to admit that he'd been awful to you the other night with the way he'd spoken to you, but the judgment and rejection from you had really upset him, as did the fear of hearing you tell him you were done with him. So he'd closed himself off to you, hoping to lessen how much you leaving him would hurt.

But Matt didn’t want to think about that this morning. His head ached enough from all the physical exertion last night and from not getting enough sleep. Those damn cars honking had ruined whatever sleeping in he hoped he’d have this Saturday morning, the sound of the city far too loud for him to lay back down and fall asleep now.

Though if you’d been here–

With a growl Matt tore the sheets off of himself, tossing his legs over the side of his bed and shoving all thoughts of you to the side. He didn’t want to think about you right now. He wanted coffee, desperately hoping that would wake him up and help the throbbing of his head.

Shuffling out of his bedroom, half limping in pain as he walked, he navigated his way through his living room and into the kitchen. He went straight for his coffee maker, turning it on and preparing a pot of coffee. He knew he was going to need a few cups already.

As the coffee brewed, Matt leant his back against the kitchen counter. His eyes closed as he ran a hand over his tired face, aware that his apartment seemed noticeably quieter and lonelier without you here. He’d been noticing that for weeks now, and every time he did he felt his heart sink a bit in his chest. Though this morning he almost felt sick at the emptiness here, as if someone had punched him right in the gut when he realized you were never coming back.

But you’d made that choice, he reminded himself. You had walked out on him. That thought only had Matt grinding his teeth together, anger coursing through him.

You weren’t the woman he’d thought you were after all. And that hurt.

The coffee machine began to sputter out his coffee, the noise loud and irritating to his ears this morning. Matt turned around, reaching a hand up to grab a mug from the open shelf on the wall. But a round of knocks coming from his apartment door rang out and he hesitated, his hand hovering just before the row of coffee cups. Brows furrowing together, his head shifted over his shoulder as he wondered how he’d been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized someone had approached his door. Though after a few seconds he soon realized that it was Foggy standing in the hallway and flipping through some paperwork that he’d brought with him.

Matt’s hand dropped to his side and he turned, a frown settling on his lips as he made his way through his kitchen and down his entryway hall. He unlocked the door, briskly swinging it open. It didn’t escape his notice how Foggy had startled in the hall at the abruptness.

“Fog,” Matt greeted flatly.

He could practically feel the way his friend’s eyes scanned over him, the sound of Foggy’s face shifting into a frown not lost on Matt. He imagined the bruises were quite visible, especially since he hadn’t managed to put a shirt on.

“You look like shit, Matt,” Foggy stated bluntly. “How long were you out last night?”

Matt turned, leaving the door open as he half-limped, half-shuffled his way back down the entryway hall. He listened as Foggy stepped inside, closing the door after himself before slipping out of his shoes. By the time Foggy had followed Matt into the kitchen, Matt had already managed to pour himself a cup of coffee, drinking a sip of it black.

“You want some coffee?” Matt asked him, avoiding the initial question.

“No, I’m good,” Foggy answered slowly, resting his arms on the kitchen counter and leaning over it. “I had some earlier before I left to come deliver the documents I told you I was bringing over this morning. Which I’m guessing…you forgot about, judging by the fact that it looks like you just rolled out of a dumpster that you used for a bed.”

Matt’s lips pursed together at Foggy as he drew his mug back up to his mouth, his eyes narrowing in obvious irritation. “Not a morning for jokes, Fog.”

“Is there ever with you lately?” Foggy grumbled.

Matt drank down more of his coffee, the throbbing of his head not helped by the way Foggy was drumming his fingers along the countertop. He could hear the way his friend was looking around his apartment, probably noticing the way it had looked neater than usual. Which was due to the fact that neither of you had been in his apartment much for the past few weeks. The moment he heard Foggy’s mouth open, inhaling that small bit of breath, Matt knew what he was going to say. And it wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss.

“Where’s your other half?” Foggy asked, glancing back towards the closed bedroom door, entirely missing the way Matt had winced at the question. “Thought she usually spent the weekends with you. Is she still asleep?”

Matt ground his teeth together, roughly exhaling a sharp breath. He knew he’d ask about you.

“No, she’s not here,” Matt replied coldly.

He heard the way Foggy had stiffened against the counter at his words and the tone of his voice. Slowly, Foggy’s head turned back towards Matt. Matt’s lips thinned out in irritation, not liking the minute shift in Foggy’s posture.

“So the documents–”

“What’d you do, Matt?” Foggy asked sharply, cutting him off.

Matt’s hand gripped his coffee mug tighter in his fist, surprising even himself when it didn’t break in his grip. His jaw clenched at the question and the accusation from his best friend.

“What makes you think this was my fault?” he growled back, voice low and dangerous.

Foggy was nodding swiftly as if he’d known something had happened. He didn’t seem remotely affected by Matt’s obvious anger, clearly prepared to discuss this more. That only annoyed Matt further.

“So you two broke up? Karen and I thought as much with the way you’d been mopey and snippy around the office yesterday,” Foggy said. “What happened? Because one minute you’re telling me she’s the one, that she’s going to move in with you soon, and the next–” he waved a hand around the apartment, “–you’re a damn bachelor again. So what’d you do? Because I know damn well she didn’t end things, not with the way she always looked at you like the sun rises and falls out of your ass, Matt.”

“ She left me ,” Matt snarled back. “Why the hell is that so difficult for you to understand, Fog? Why must you always assume that I did something? Clearly she wasn’t who I thought she was because she couldn’t accept me and what I do. Who I am .”

“Ahh,” Foggy said, pushing off the counter. “This is because of Daredevil. I figured as much. So tell me what happened then, because I’m about to slap you upside the head and tell you you’re wrong.”

Matt stalked across the kitchen in aggravation, slamming his mug down onto the counter that separated him from Foggy. The hot liquid splashed over his hand as Foggy briefly jumped at his outburst. The faint scent of fear soon hitting his nose was what had Matt’s eyes snapping shut, aware he was getting too riled up at this topic. That his anger was finally starting to make Foggy nervous.

Because it was about you and it hurt.

“She said she had something she needed to tell me,” Matt replied through clenched teeth, trying to rein in his frustration and heartache. “But I needed to go out as Daredevil. I was planning to interrupt a meeting with the Russians. The ones I’d been telling you about.” He exhaled a sharp breath, his left hand clamping onto the kitchen counter as he continued, hoping to ground himself and control his rage. “She was upset that I was going out again when we’d had plans. Said she really needed to talk to me. So I told her she could tell me afterwards when I came back and she got upset.”

There was a brief silence following his explanation, Matt hearing the way Foggy’s head had shifted to the side.

“And you were…growly Devil when you were talking with her weren’t you?” Foggy asked, gesturing a hand at Matt. “Like you are now?”

Matt grunted, shame burning through him as his eyes once again fell shut. Yes.

“Maybe,” he grumbled.

“Okay, so,” Foggy continued carefully, “if I’m understanding this right, you’ve been canceling plans on your girl for a while now and she’d been upset about that. And then she comes and says she really needs to talk to you, and you what? Bail on her again? Quite aggressively, I’m gathering?”

“That’s–that’s not exactly right,” Matt said, shaking his head. “I didn’t bail on her. The city needed me, Fog.”

“Sounds like she needed you more, buddy,” Foggy countered.

Matt’s eyes snapped open, his sightless gaze landing somewhere near Foggy in a glare. “I gave her the option to stay and wait for me to come back. To tell me what she needed to then. She chose to leave. I haven’t heard from her since, so I’m guessing her important talk was about her wanting to tell me that she wanted to end things. That she couldn’t handle me being Daredevil after all.”

Foggy scoffed, shaking his head at Matt. He could hear the way his friend’s mouth had yet again curved into a frown. Something like guilt twisted in Matt’s stomach at the way that night had played out but he quickly buried it under his anger and hurt.

“Why do you do that?” Foggy asked softly.

“ What ?” Matt snapped.

“This,” Foggy answered, waving a hand frantically at Matt. “That self-sabotaging thing you do. Things were good with you both. Great, actually. You were happy , Matt. And then you go diving into your hero bullshit and push people away. Making assumptions about her wanting to end things like you know that’s exactly what she wanted to talk to you about.”

“I do not self-sabotage,” Matt shot back.

“Then why’d you push her away?” Foggy countered.

“Because the city needs me!” Matt exclaimed in exasperation, throwing his hands on his hips. “You know that and she knew that!”

A glaring silence settled in Matt’s apartment after his loud outburst. Matt’s tongue slipped out, wetting his lips repeatedly in his agitation. He heard the very faint sigh Foggy emitted, even with the way his headache had worsened.

“I think you’re reading things entirely wrong, man,” Foggy said, tone softer. “I don’t think she was trying to break up with you. I think you fucked up. Big time. And judging by the way you’re incredibly defensive and angry, you really, really love her.”

Matt’s nostrils flared, his eyes still glaring sharply in the direction of his friend. Though a part of himself was beginning to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Foggy was onto something. At least, about him fucking up. He was still pretty certain you’d wanted to break up with him. Because he had been canceling plans on you for weeks now. And you’d been getting hurt by him doing that pretty quickly, too. And he’d noticed, but he kept on putting off making things up to you because he’d been too focused on prioritizing the Russians. He’d hurt you, too. Long before you’d hurt him.

That guilt and shame stirred in Matt’s stomach again, threatening to overtake his own rage and heartache. But he couldn’t have been wrong about what you’d wanted to talk to him about, right? Because what else could it possibly have been besides an ultimatum for him to quit being Daredevil and to choose you instead?

“I think,” Foggy continued slowly, “that you need to go call her up. Put your tail between your legs and go beg for her forgiveness, Matt. Because you fucked up, admit it. I can see that realization dawning on your face right now, buddy. Talk to her. Apologize on your goddamn knees every day until she takes you back. Because we both know she was the best damn thing that ever happened to you.”

“She was,” Matt whispered, his gaze dropping down to the floor. “She always was.”

“Then go get her!” Foggy exclaimed, slamming his fist onto Matt’s countertop. “Fix things!”

He stepped around the kitchen counter, reaching out to slap Matt good-naturedly on the shoulder. Matt winced at the gesture when Foggy’s hand landed on a bruise and Foggy quickly muttered out an apology.

Rubbing his arm, Matt let out a sigh. “How am I supposed to fix things, Fog?” he asked. “What if she really doesn’t love the part of me that is Daredevil like she thought she did? I can’t give this up. I’m not going to.”

“There’s no way that bullshit is the reason,” Foggy told him. “Not with all the different ways she’s been there for you and your vigilante ass this whole time, Matt. She loves Daredevil just as much as you. But as for fixing things?” Foggy shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. I think your first step is to reach out to her, though. Try to get her to talk to you. Apologize and maybe find out what it was she needed to tell you. Because I’m guessing knowing what that was will tell you how royally you fucked up here.”

“Yeah,” Matt said with a sigh. “You’re probably right. Though I have a feeling she’s not going to want to talk to me.”

“You just keep trying until she does,” Foggy told him. “And if all else fails, maybe you can romantically show up on her fire escape and profess your love to her or something?”

Matt scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure Daredevil showing up on her fire escape would go over real well with her right now.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #daredevil

750 notes · View notes

espinosaurusrexex · 7 months

Text

Happy Little Accidents

Veteran!BuckyBarnes x Female!ArtTeacher!Reader

summary: In a world after the war, Bucky tries to get pieces of his old self back by joining an art class. He meets you and instantly falls head over heels. Now he just has to work up the courage to ask you out.

a/n: wrote most of this on my lunch break after finally feeling the creativity spark again. I hope you all get a cozy fall feeling.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: adapting to life after war, frustration, a little angst, love-dazed Bucky, just so much fluff and wholesomeness 💕

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

↑ the face of a man too whipped to listen - this is the Bucky vibe today

Steve Rogers was an artist. A lot of people knew about it. Hell, the Smithsonian even had a gallery full of sketches from a notebook of Steve’s he had lost back in ‘45. But Steve never needed people to recognize his work. Just like he never needed all the fame that came with his shield or all the honors he got for doing what he thought normal human decency implied - stopping bullies.

But what not many people knew was that Steve loved his art so much, he even held little sketch workshops in the camps on the western front. He drew each member of the howling commandos with impeccable accuracy. He loved drawing portraits and he loved to help.

Which was why, sooner or later, Bucky had been talked into trying his first sketches back in the day as well. Back when he was still left-handed, back when he found joy in little things such as drawing with his best friend. Back when he was not who he was now.

Yeah, he was bitter about it...

Bucky wasn’t too shabby of an artist per se. He was rather quick with his sketches always able to find the right spot for his next line and even though they weren’t perfect, one could always see what his pictures were meant to present.

Yes, they were crooked and not nearly as good as Steve’s but he had fun with it. Sketching had been an escape for his soul while bombs were exploding only miles away from his camp. It had reminded him of his best friend when they were apart, and most importantly, it taught him patience.

God, so much patience.

Bucky had never been good with it. Always fast, always right away. But the amount of times Steve made him erase carefully constructed lines and shapes had him feel scolded like a kid.

Later, he was grateful for it.

Now? He hated just touching a pencil. Every time he was reminded of his recovery, of months of frustration and anger, of grief and sadness. All because he’d lost his arm, and with it, all that had brought him joy in life.

When he had to learn to write with his right hand, he screamed at the papers before him, the crooked and shaky lines mocking him with vigor.

You’ll never be the same, they said, You’ll never have true joy back.

He felt like a child. Unable to do the most mundane of tasks, whilst fully aware of what had to be done to get it right.

But he missed it. The way drawing would clear his mind and the ease he felt when thinking of nothing but the next step in the process.

So after a particularly frustrating session with his therapist, Bucky had walked through a gallery on his way home. Beautiful pieces, each more impressive than the next hung on bright white walls until he reached a small corner with sketches and photographs. They weren’t less good than the rest, but other than the huge paintings, they seemed approachable - and they reminded him of times far gone.

“Hello, would you be interested in signing up for a sketching class?” An angelic voice had asked after holding a leaflet into his line of sight. And when he followed the hand up to your face, his breath hitched in his throat.

“I- I don’t think I’d be any good…” he had said with a pitiful smile as his left arm raised next to his head, the sleek silver of his hand shining in the showroom light.

“Oh don’t be silly. Everyone can be an artist.”

And that was all it took.

Now he was here. Sitting in a room with about eight other people, listening to you talk. Though Bucky didn’t pay much attention to your words. He was distracted by the way your lips curved when you spoke, and how your hands looked in the light when you flailed them in the air. He wanted to draw you, only you. But he knew he could never do you justice. And that frustrated him a little.

His first task was easy. A series of connected squiggles and shapes. The second was harder - finding and highlighting familiar motives in his work. But when he tried to connect his shapes, his hand began to tremble and the line on his paper got dented, he huffed in surrender.

A look to the front to you talking with another woman and he was getting off his chair.

This was useless. He should have never come here.

But when he moved to gather his things, your voice stopped him once again.

“Oh that’s interesting,” you said with a tilted head, your eyes following the little dent in his drawing.

“Yeah, I messed it up.” He shook his head and added a careful, much more quiet ‘I always do”.

“You see, it’s only a mistake if you make it one.” You turned to him and smiled and his heart began racing now that all your attention was on him. Bucky looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the other participants were all focused on their work. “I’m not going to tell you that this line isn’t supposed to be the way it is. You alone can decide that.”

You stepped closer as he eyed his paper again. “So, Bucky,” holy crap you remembered his name. And it sounded so good coming from your lips. “Are you gonna make it a mistake or not?”

❁ ❁ ❁

That was a month ago. And Bucky had come to your class every Sunday night since then. But now his crush had only intensified.

Every time you stepped behind him to watch him work, his hand began to sweat. Every time you gave him a suggestion, his eyes were so drawn to your lips, he barely heard what you were saying. Just yesterday this had caused him to get into a particularly awkward situation. He hadn’t listened, of course - those stupid mesmerizing lips of yours were at fault for it. And when Bucky finally came back from his daydream of imagining what they would feel like on his lips, he knocked over a jar of water as he noticed you had moved next to him. And to make matters even worse, you had caught him talking to himself as he cleaned up the mess.

Bucky was beyond embarrassed. He wasn’t normally that clumsy, all his moves were calculated. No limb out of control, but when you were around, he seemed to have lost that trait of his - which was actually kind of nice...

He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to handle it.

He was contemplating never going back to your class. He would probably end up ruining somebody’s work and - besides - it wasn’t like he could ever work up the courage to ask you out. It was just all too scary.

“Bucky, is that you?” Bucky froze as he studied the coffee menu above the barista. He was going to order black anyway. But the voice that called out his name almost made him want to pretend he was still studying the sign.

“Bucky.” Your voice came closer and when you were standing next to him, he finally looked at you. And there you were, with a bright smile and a scarf shielding you from the cool fall breeze outside.

“Oh, hey.” He paused, treading, not knowing what to do with his hands or pretty much any part of his body. At least, in your workshop, he had something to do. “...hey.”

“It’s nice to see you, how’s your homework going?” You rubbed your hands together to warm them and at the sight of your delicate fingers, he felt his cheeks heating up when he imagined holding them.

“It’s... well, it’s going...” He sighed and watched his feet as they shuffled on the tiled floor. “It’s not going well if I’m being honest.” And with a shy smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you nodded in understanding.

“I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it really helps to just get started without thinking about it too much.”

He chuckled. That was exactly his problem. Because every time he wanted to start, he wondered what you would think about it. And then his thoughts drifted to you entirely and how your neck would bend when you watched him draw over his shoulder, or how your fingers swayed over his artwork to point out the parts you were talking about. God, he loved when you did that.

“-only if you want, of course.” Your nose crinkled when Bucky’s mind brought him back to the coffee shop again. You were staring at him expectantly, your smile growing nervous with every second he took to register that you had just asked him a question.

Bucky had no idea what you had just said. He had been too lost in his daydream yet again and now he made you look stupid in the middle of this coffee shop. There wasn’t much time to decide what his response would be, but under no circumstance did he want to admit just how scattered he was around you. So without thinking, he just nodded with a tight-lipped smile and willed his knees to stay strong when your eyes brightened.

“Awesome! When are you free?” Free? Did you just ask him out and he hadn’t even paid attention?

“Uh, Sunday?” Bucky stammered as his heart began to pound in his chest. This has got to be a prank.

You laughed, and Bucky got weak in the knees. “Sunday is workshop, silly.”

Stupid, stupid, Bucky. “Right, uh... Friday then.” The rapid beat in his chest took his breath away.

“Okay, great. Here give me your phone so I can give you my number.”

“You’re–“ Bucky choked as his hands scrambled to fish his phone out of his pocket. “Yes, yeah sure, cool.” Cool? Oh god.

You took it from him, entered your contact with a little paintbrush emoji, called yourself, and handed it back to his sweaty hand.

“I’ll text you my address.” You stepped forward to pay and retrieve your coffee, gifting the barista a smile that made him blush - apparently, you were a regular because Bucky did not remember you ordering - but then again - he didn’t really pay attention apparently. “Oh, and bring your art supplies!”

And then you were out the door, letting crisp air into the cozy coffee shop, and Bucky standing dazed and confused as to what had just happened.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his phone for the fifth time now, making sure he was in front of the right door before ringing the bell. He was nervous, to say the least. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was on a date, not to mention the last time he felt this nervous about being on one. He was a strong believer in facts but you asking him out had to be a sign from the universe. One he would only get once and he could not screw it up.

His hands smoothed over his black button-up one last time before adjusting his leather jacket again. Then he rang the bell and not even a minute later, you greeted him with a warm smile and urged him to give you his jacket to hang up.

“I just made tea, do you want some?” Bucky followed you to the kitchen where the faint but homey scent of pumpkin spice filled the air. He watches as you scrambled to find your oven its and then retrieve something delicious smelling from the oven. “Cookies?”

“I’m good with tea for now.” He chuckled in awe at how nice your home felt. Once he could tear his eyes away from you, he peered over the kitchen island into your living room, where many different artworks and photographs were displayed on the walls. Every pillow on your sofa had a different color and the blankets sprawled on it and the chair were too inviting for him not to picture the both of you cuddled up beneath them.

“Alright then, suit yourself. But just know these are my specialty.” You snatched one from the tray before almost dropping it again. “Ouch, hot.”

Bucky felt drawn to the room. With all its warm light and fall-scented candles, hints of read books and discarded crocheting, with a crackling fireplace and soft carpeting. He also felt awfully intimate at the glimpse he got into your life by being here, but he had already declared this place his favorite in his mind.

“Are you ready?” Bucky turned to you and watched as you padded your hands on your jeans, leaving faint flour prints on the dark denim.

“Ready for what?” He smiled again, he seemed to be unable to stop around you. But he was just so happy to be here, to be close to you, and to finally spend more time with you.

You chuckled and set two cups of tea on the table. “For your sketches. That’s the whole reason you came here for, remember?”

You settled on the ground and padded the sofa for Bucky. But he could just stand there and stare at you while trying to ignore the lump that began to build in his throat. He clenched the bag with his art supplies in his hand and watched as the soft material wrinkled in his grasp.

Of, course. He took a breath. How could he have been so naive? Then stepped towards the sofa. The whole thing had been a mistake. And finally sat down with a heavy smile.

The sadness was filling him so fast, it threatened to spill right out of him, but Bucky wouldn’t let this little big dent in the road be shown in front of you. Instead, he focused on your hands when they pulled his sketch pad from his bag. And your eager smile when you flipped through his failed attempts on the paper.

The whole atmosphere was wearing a thin layer of sorrow all of a sudden, and Bucky felt his heartache when you leaned over to him to point out the parts you liked the most. Your perfume seemed just that much sweeter as if it were mocking him all of a sudden.

He didn’t listen. He just watched you with the same longing he’s had ever since he met you. Back to square one. Back to the distance he had with you before he foolishly thought you had asked him out. Except now he’d lost all the confidence left in him to take the next step.

Bucky let the evening wash over him. Trying to concentrate on your tips and examples, tasting the tea you had offered to him with the sweetest smile. And before he knew it, he was standing in front of your apartment building again - with a box of those pumpkin cookies in hand and a heart that felt heavier than the bricks he was staring at.

He sighed and began his walk back home.

❁ ❁ ❁

On Sunday he decided that he wouldn’t give up. Bucky didn't know what changed his mind. He just knew that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and him on that incredibly comfortable sofa of yours and the scent of your cedar and cinnamon candle which seemed to linger on his skin for days after his visit. He wanted to play the sketching games he had half-heartedly endured last time and he wanted to become a better artist.

Bucky had left your cookie box at home as an excuse to meet up with you again. And even though he was sweating ferociously when he approached you after class, you had agreed to meet with him again.

He’d left the gallery with a bright smile that evening. Excited for the next time he’d see you again and eager with daydreams on the subway home.

You and Bucky met up every week. Every time, spending a little longer not just drawing and it filled his heart with warmth and happiness. You shared laughter, and, in Bucky’s eyes, a growing connection with every passing meeting.

He learned about your dreams and aspirations and told you about his past, his interests, and his most treasured fantasies.

As weeks turned into months, Bucky found himself drawn to you in more ways than the warmth radiating from your smile he’d noticed the first day he met you, or your talent of calmly helping him in every way possible. He admired your passion for art, your kindness, and your enchanting presence. The fear and the shyness that had gripped him at first, slowly faded away - replaced by a sense of comfort when he was with you.

And soon he realized that there was nothing he didn’t love about you. This was how he got the courage to, on one calm evening spent on your sofa, between the colorful pillows he had been thinking about falling asleep on for weeks, place his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers with his.

“I got something for you,” he whispered between dialogues of the Halloween movie playing on TV, watching as your eyes aimed up at him with curiosity.

With reluctance, he peeled himself out of the warm blanket you shared and trudged to the sketchbook hidden in his bag. The initial idea had been dipped in silly confidence. But it was too late to back out now. He’d already told you about it.

So despite his nervous heartbeat, Bucky came back to the sofa and handed you the book.

“Open it,” he nudged when you carefully inspected the black leather binding, unaware of the confession hidden beneath.

And when you did, he felt he could read every expression on your face like a poem.

The book was filled with sketches of you. The first pages were scattered in hasty pencil drawings, misplaced lines, and unintentional dents. Then followed the section in which he had tried to pay attention to detail. The curve of your nose or the arch of your fingers when they pointed at his artwork. He could see them now, hovering over the sketches himself, and when you turned to the last page of the section, he could see the striking resemblance between them. And so did you. On the next turn, you revealed the latest portraits he’d added to the book - finally confident enough to attempt doing what he saw you as justice, to finally look past his mistakes - or happy little accidents as you called them - and just try it.

Bucky had discovered that your weekly sketch sessions had done him good. And that you had secretly given him back what he had mourned after for so long.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you from the moment we met.” He whispered still, too afraid to break the moment you’d just created. “Thought it was time for me to tell you.”

Your eyes were glassy when you tore them from the pages in your hand, a shaky laugh escaping your lips when Bucky beamed down at you. “You did all of this for me-”

“Because of you,” he corrected and wiped a lonely tear from your cheek. “I never thought I could get the joy of drawing back until you showed me how.”

Bucky leaned in closer until your noses touched. “How to be less critical of myself.” He closed his eyes and let his hand linger on your skin. “And how to welcome a mistake by making it an accident-”

And before he could finish that sentence, he felt your lips press to his and your warm hands wrap around his neck to pull him into your body. Bucky shivered in excitement, letting his hands trail down your back and falling into the soft cushions of your sofa while he pressed you to his chest protectively.

He sighed into the kiss, feeling his heart burn with excitement.

Fascinating, how fast a mistake can turn into a happy little accident.

I love you Bob Ross <3

Wanna be added to the taglist?

@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @supersecretblogformytreasures @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie @bisexual-buckyfan @blackhawkfanatic @augustbucky @kandis-mom @harleycao @ashhsage

911 notes · View notes

redcallisto · 5 months

Text

Danstelle week 2023 Day 4 - Secret Relationship | Jealousy

(R-L)

#honkai star rail #hsr #dan heng #stelle #danstelle #gepard #not fond of one sided jealousy so here's the both of them #especially since dan heng is always portrayed as the jealous one due to dragon #like i get it possessive dragon i like it too but. hear me out. jealous both of them #first gepard ever and he's being treated unfairly cuz dh is on his dragon period #drew these 2 far apart from each other so they look a little different

664 notes · View notes

maya1525 · 1 month

Text

SUCK ~ & ~ F*CK 😋🍾

✩ Featuring Megumi Fushiguro ✩

18+MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Megumi Fushiguro

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader giving oral, unprotected vaginal sex, cream pie, sex in front of others, language, chocking, rough sex

Word count✩࿐1.9k

Summary✩࿐This is based on my original post: SUCK ~ GUESS ~ F*CK. But you know ahead of time whose dick is in your slutty mouth. Megumi drew 10 of Spades ♠️

A/N✩࿐I like the thought of having an aggressive and possessive Megumi. Yet, he still wants to share you with his friends 😈 he loves showing others how amazing you are. I also felt like having a dominant Fushiguro boyfriend compliments the two other sweet and cuddly boyfriends. Feedback is highly appreciated, I love reading your comments! 😙💖

“The game is quite simple.” Gojo stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “You’re going to be blindfolded and will have to guess which man's dick is in your mouth. If you guess incorrectly, the man gets to choose which position to fuck you in. If you guess correctly, then you get to choose the position. To keep things interesting, you’ll suck dick for three minutes and get fucked for seven.”

You nodded your understanding as you sat on the large and cushy futon in Gojo’s apartment. He had planned on fucking you alone tonight, but your boyfriends wanted in on the action, plus they thought it would be a good idea to invite two of their friends, Mechamaru and Noritoshi.

You felt your cheeks warm up with excitement, never in your life, you’ve felt so deeply desired before. Everyone’s eyes were on you, especially because you wore a revealing teddy one-piece. Satoru bought it for you, and it complimented your figure perfectly. He even put a stunning custom collar on you, with a diamond-covered ‘S’ on it.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed to be this exposed in front of Noritoshi and Mechamaru. You were familiar with both of these men, but you were still getting used to human Mechamaru. Muta was on the leaner side compared to your boyfriends, he had sharp features and a large and noticeable scar on his upper cheek. While Kamo on the other hand always seemed like a strong and serious leader among his comrades. The thought that he yearned for you just as much as your boyfriends made you wonder what he would be like when he fucked you. The thought made you anticipate his turn.

While you thought about those two men, your eyes were subconsciously drawn to both of them. Noritoshi sat on the far side of the sectional, his heated gaze stared you down hungrily. Beside him sat your boyfriend Megumi with a starved look in his midnight blue eyes. Next sat Itadori, he eyed you with such desperation, that it looked as if he was going to jump off the couch any second to get to you. Next to him sat Satoru smugly, his eyes gleamed playfully in your direction. Beside him was Muta, he eyed shyly with a faint blush on his face. To his left sat Yuuta and Inumaki, Toge was leaning into the couch comfortably, his violet-colored eyes sparkling over your stunning body with admiration and Yuuta had a similar look of awe on his face.

“Ok Y/n, I’m going to put this on you if you’re ready,” Satoru murmured, his gorgeous blue eyes gleaming down at you, while he wrapped his black blindfold around your eyes.

You were shocked at how you couldn’t even see small streams of light through it. You had always assumed that it was sheer fabric and that Gojo could slightly see through it, but you were mistaken. Satoru’s amazing Six Eyes technique is one to behold, he certainly is the strongest jujitsu sorcerer.

“OK, now that her eyes are covered, I’m going to hand each of you a playing card. Whoever draws the highest card gets to go first.” Satoru explained nonchalantly, as the sound of him shuffling the cards expertly made itself known in your ears.

After a short moment of listening to each man shift on the couch to get their card, Gojo spoke. “Now let’s reveal our cards.” You heard a few small sighs of excitement from some of the men, and you also heard some hisses of displeasure, assuming that they would have to wait a while until their turn.

You then sense the presence of another male standing in front of you. The familiar sound of undoing his pants in front of your face made itself known. He set both of his hands on each side of your face, as he thrust his hips forward. You opened your mouth obediently and felt his hard dick slip into your mouth and down your throat. The sudden feeling of him that deep in you, caused you to gag a little bit, but you still sucked him off hungrily.

He gently pumped his hips against your mouth, and you submissively held still while he face fucked you. You had a strong feeling that tomorrow you won’t have a voice. He tugged on your leash, causing you to slightly choke around him. He briefly removed himself from your slippery mouth to give you a little breather. In return, you softly sucked the tip of his dick. You swiveled your tongue around his sensitive head while jacking him off with your right hand.

You then opened your mouth up wide and let him pump his dick down your throat. Your jaw ached slightly, but you obediently kept your mouth open for him. With the leash still pulled tight, he fucked his hips against your face harshly.

The other men who sat on the couch watched as Megumi face fucked you brutally. You were constantly choking and gagging on him, and they were amazed that you let him treat you so harshly. You were certainly well-trained. Fushiguro’s dark blue eyes rolled to the back of his head in sick pleasure, if he kept going he’d finish in your mouth.

This man then pulled himself from your mouth to give you a little break, you leaned forward and kissed his shaft softly. Your kisses trailed from the head of his penis to the base. All while you left juicy kisses on him, you were able to feel his dick ache towards you with want.

Suddenly the timer went off, you were too busy leaving kisses on his cock to think of who this person is. “Umm, Itadori?” You croaked out with uncertainty as you brought the blindfold down. You locked eyes with your boyfriend Megumi.

“Sorry sweetie, but that's a wrong guess. Now go straddle Inumaki and Yuuta. I wanna fuck you overtop them.” Fushiguro stated nonchalantly, as he helped you up off the futon. You couldn’t help but blush at your boyfriend’s request, it seemed almost mean to tease them like that. Nonetheless, they were your boyfriends too and you were curious about how this was going to play out.

You settled yourself so Yuuta’s left leg and Toge’s right were between your thighs, the both of them eyed you longingly. Hopefully, soon it’ll be their turn, it looked as if Yuuta couldn’t wait any longer. You felt Megumi fondle your ass with approval as he placed the head of his dick at your moist entrance. Without delay, he pressed his hips against your bubbly ass cheeks. His cock was angled into your pussy in the most delectable way, a needy whine escaped your lips in response. Moaning so cutely while looking at Toge made him want to snatch you from Megumi’s grasp.

Fushiguro leaned close from behind and whispered in your ear, “Go on, kiss them.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you immediately sent your lips crashing down against Yuuta’s while you tangled your fingers in Inumaki’s platinum locks lovingly. Yuuta kissed you back with so much affection, he needed you then and there, but he’ll have to wait his turn like everyone else. His lips moved passionately against yours, while Fushiguro set into a steady rhythm of plowing his veiny rod into you. Each thrust caused you to lurch forward, making it a little hard to keep yourself steady. You found yourself hanging onto Yuuta’s shoulder for balance. You then switched over to Inumaki, whose violet-colored eyes grazed over you friskily. His lips collided with yours hotly. You felt Toge’s hand sneak way onto your thigh and began to tease his nimble fingers on your soft skin.

Fushiguro burrowed his dick into you so perfectly, he placed both of his hands on your slim waist to keep you steady. Every time his hips met your cheeks, loud clapping sounds would echo through the room lewdly. You couldn’t help but moan wantonly, you were loving the fact that you were able to enjoy all three of your boyfriends at the same time. Okkotsu guided your face back to his, he desired your attention. Your lips tangled with his seductively, while you felt his left hand rest on your hip, right below Megumi’s hand.

“I think their dicks need a little love,” Fushiguro grunted out from behind you. You hastily tried to undo the button on Yuuta’s pants, but doing it one with one hand was a little tricky. You felt him smile against your lips and helped you out, soon enough his hard and needy dick sprang free from its confines. You quickly brought your other hand down to Inumaki’s pants, and he helped you unbutton them as well.

You brought your palm up to your mouth to lick it for the extra lubricant and then did the same to your other hand. With Fushiguro holding you securely, you no longer need to grip Yuuta for stability. Your soft hands gripped both of your boyfriends' hot and eager cocks. You pumped them in union and admired the flushed looks they shared. Inumaki thrust his hips toward your hand instinctively, while Yuuta shuddered with delight.

You completely forgot that you still had the leash on, until Inumaki gently tugged on it, in order to have you kiss him again. He pulled you close and the both of your tongues wrestled with each other. You pumped your hands on their shafts with more desperation, you heard Yuuta moan softly in response. Fushiguro then reached forward and took the leash from Inumaki, he yanked it harshly causing your airway to close up. His thrusts became more powerful and his dick slid into you scrumptiously. You felt him bite down on your shoulder possessively, knowing that he would leave a nasty mark.

You couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t care. Even though you were suffocating, the pleasure you felt from Fushiguro’s heavenly dick made you drunk on ecstasy. Inumaki took his hand from your thigh to your sensitive clit, he knew exactly how to touch you. His sneaky fingers rubbed your clit at electric speed, making you cry out helplessly. Yuuta placed his hand on your plump breast, squeezing it softly. He teased your pebbled nipples, as they shook vigorously from every thrust. Sparks of hot bliss shook you to your core, you knew you couldn’t last any longer due to the overstimulation.

You were quickly losing feeling in both your hands due to the lack of oxygen, but Megumi was almost there. He clutched the leash tightly while he pounded you ruthlessly. It was sweet, sweet torture, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. The combination of Inumaki’s teasing fingers, Yuuta’s sweet caresses, and Megumi’s constant penetration. You quickly fell victim to your third orgasm.

Your slick juices coated Fushiguro’s rod tastily, giving him more lubricant to plow you with extra force. He came hard and fast, shooting his milky liquid into your pulsating pussy. As soon as he released himself in you, he let go of the leash, and finally, you could breathe again. You gasped for air greedily, taking it in as if you weren’t going to have another chance.

Right on cue, the timer went off. Fushiguro pulled himself out of your comfortable warmth and helped you off Inumaki and Okkotsu. Your cunt leaked cum all over both men’s pants as Megumi guided you off of them and back to the futon.

Your legs felt weak and your cunt was a hot and sticky mess, but you only had three guys left. You can push through a little bit longer, you’re more than halfway there! You sat on the comfy cushions and lazily put your blindfold back on.

195 notes · View notes

nova-amor · 2 months

Text

tags. 18+ mdni, female reader. cockwarming, fondling.

thinking about simon riley lapping at the sensitive column of your throat, his chapped lips moistened by the thin layers of saliva he had coated across your neck with his fat tongue. he had made sure to make a mess of you, staining almost every possible surface of your body with his essence, whether it be with his cum or his spit.

his nails would be hooked into you, the rough callouses of his palms scratching at your smooth skin, tarnishing your flesh with his mild aggression. his hands would roam and rake over your body in possession, grasping at your breasts, hips, ass, and thighs until they found purchase of the back of your head as he dragged his tongue along the curve of your jaw. his cock would be nestled deep inside of you, twitching against the edge of your cervix, throbbing and staining your gummy walls with his spend.

aside from the occasional shift, he wouldn’t dare move, far too consumed in relishing the feeling of your warmth embracing him than to think of doing anything else. little whimpers and small pants would leave your lips as simon’s mouth ghosted over yours, his half-lidded eyes peering deep into yours, searching your gaze for any discomfort. your warm breaths would mix and fan over each other’s faces, your chests heaving with exhaustion and desire.

even after several rounds, neither of you would be tired of the other, too far in lust to think or do anything else. simon wouldn’t allow you to escape from his embrace anyway, not with the way you were squeezing so tightly around him while your hands lightly scratched at the back of his scalp. with your thigh hooked over his hip, simon would cup the back of your knee, hiking your legs further apart as he drew his hips so far back that only the head of his cock was nestled inside you. and then, with a teasing roll of his hips, he would thrust it back into you, the wet squelch of your heat welcoming him home. because home was anywhere as long as he was buried deep inside you.

283 notes · View notes

hgfictionwriter · 15 days

Text

Handy - Part Three

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Your projects with Jessie are coming to a close. What's next?

Warnings: Nothing again - just more corny, cheesy romance.

A/N: Final part! Thanks again everyone. Part One and Part Two if you need them.

“Oh good, you have my bed set up already,” you said with a pointed look over your shoulder as you approached Jessie’s couch that had a pillow and blankets laid out on it. You reached out asking her to hand you your bag, which she’d insisted on carrying inside for you.

She raised her eyebrows and wordlessly walked into her bedroom with your bag.

“Jessie!” You scolded as you practically stomped after her.

You spied the subdued smirk on lips as she set your bag down on the bed. You came up next to her and tried to grab your bag, but Jessie wasn’t budging.

“Jessie.” You repeated and she merely snickered. You planted your feet and tried to push against her with your shoulder to get to the bag. She hardly swayed. You tried to push her arm with your hands, which was an even worse idea because now you were brutally distracted by how her muscles were flexing under your grasp. Jessie just kept laughing under her breath.

“Come on,” you whined now. “I can’t kick you out of your bed again.”

“I’m offering it to you. You’re not kicking me out,” she corrected calmly. “If it means anything, I give you points for effort.”

You exhaled with a frustrated groan and crossed your arms. You vaguely noted how she smiled quietly at you.

“Whatever. Fine,” you said flatly.

“Great. Thank you for being so accommodating,” she said wryly with a short laugh. “Now wait here. I’ll get you that heat pack for your back.”

Your face was still heavy with a frown as you peered over your shoulder when she walked to another room. You contemplated your options for a moment before closing the bedroom door and getting changed as quickly as you could. You opened the door gingerly, trying to be discrete and rushed out to the couch to get under the covers.

“It might be a little too hot, so just be care-” Jessie stopped mid-sentence and mid-step, a deep frown quickly settling on her face. When she spoke her voice was high and taut. “What the hell is this?” You laughed, very satisfied with yourself.

“Guess you’re taking the bed,” you said smugly.

She scoffed, putting the heat pack down on a table. “You clearly underestimate me.” She crossed her arms and looked down at you. “Y/N. Please get up and take the bed.”

“Jessie. It’s only fair. Come on - you took the couch last time.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not moving,” you told her defiantly. “And you have a game! You need to get a good sleep.”

“I won’t sleep well if you’re on the couch,” she said without missing a beat. You rolled your eyes.

“Jess, you’re being silly. Just take the bed. It’s your apartment!”

“I will ask one more time,” she said calmly. “Please get up.”

You were in a stare down and you chose not to speak. Neither of you broke eye contact for several moments before Jessie raised her eyebrows slightly and exhaled.

“You asked for it.”

You drew yourself into the couch briefly before exclaiming as Jessie reached down and hoisted you up off of the couch in her arms. You flailed momentarily before gripping onto her tightly for fear of falling.

She crossed into the bedroom in a few easy steps and set you down on the bed, her face inadvertently closer to yours than expected. You released each other quickly and though Jessie’s face was suddenly crimson red, from the heat you felt on yours, you imagined you weren’t far off either.

Jessie took a couple of exaggerated steps back from the bed and clasped her hands behind her back, gaze meeting yours briefly before falling to the floor.

“I’m sorry. That was probably highly inappropriate. But I feel very strongly that I will take the couch.”

“Okay,” you accepted mildly as you were still far too distracted by the physical proximity of the exchange. “You win.”

“I’m really sorry,” she went on, her blush not letting up and now she scratched her temple nervously. “We do stuff like that all the time - like, me and my teammates. I didn’t really think. It doesn’t mean anything, you know.” She rambled on.

“Okay. It’s fine,” you told her. And it was. More than fine. If anything you hoped she was lying when she said it didn’t mean anything.

“Um, here,” she started before scurrying out and back in with the heat pack held out for you. “Careful - it’s still really hot,” she went on.

“Jessie. It’s totally fine. Thank you.” You took it from her and she took another large step back. “I didn’t mind at all. We’re good,” you assured her with a laugh. She nodded rapidly and gave you a stiff smile.

“Okay, well, have a good sleep.” Her fingers were now twisting and tapping against one another in front of her. “I thought I’d make us French toast for breakfast.” She trailed off slightly in volume. “You said you like that.”

While you’d recovered, Jessie was clearly still anxious about the whole exchange. You got up and you saw her swallow as her eyes followed you. You smiled at her.

“That sounds amazing. Thank you.” You closed the space between you and wrapped your arms around her in a hug, which she was slow to reciprocate, but soon her arms were wrapped tightly around your back. You soon pulled away, trying not to let your nerves get the best of you as the touch lingered. You smiled at her again. “And thank you for all of your help today. Sleep tight.”

She returned your smile, looking far more relaxed now than a minute ago.

“Good night.”

—————

You’d offered to get a head start on painting while Jessie would be at her game, but she was adamant that you wait for her. It didn’t take much convincing, your body honestly needed the break.

While you’d been to Jessie’s - well, Janine’s - games before, you couldn’t say that you’d ever arrived together.

You were so distracted the entire lead up. Her getting her bag ready, quietly witnessing her pre-game rituals and it affected you in a way you didn’t fully expect.

Jessie pulled over a couple of blocks away from the stadium and turned to you.

“I hate to do this, but you should get out here. The media team loves taking videos and photos of players arriving and you don’t want to get caught up in that.”

You nodded eagerly. “Yeah, no thank you!”

“I’ll find you after the game.” Jessie told you. She was very much in a serious headspace, but she cracked a radiant smile for you. “And we should still have enough time to finish the final coat.”

You gawked internally at how your body almost instinctively leaned over to give her a kiss. You blushed and she frowned at you, likely confused.

“Okay. Have a great game. I’ll see you after.”

You took your time and made your way to your seat in the stands. You followed up on missed messages while you waited for warm-ups, but your mind was constantly drawn back to the past 24 hours with Jessie. More than once you caught yourself smiling.

Eventually, staff and some players from the visiting team started to trickle out onto the field. Soon enough, the Thorns came out and you cheered alongside the rest of the crowd. With zero effort, you spotted Jessie in the group of players as they began to run drills.

As usual, Jessie was very in the zone. She wore a subtle frown on her face as she went through exercises. It was the norm that Jessie steadfastly ignored you as soon as she was on the pitch, so you weren’t bothered. Janine, on the other hand, waved up at you enthusiastically, drawing out a laugh from you.

However, a wave of surprise went through you when Jessie was jogging back to the start of a drill and glanced up at you to gave a small series of quick waves, coupled with a tight-lipped smile. You were so caught off guard you didn’t even wave back in time before she turned and began sprinting again.

Warm-ups ended and you watched as the team retreated back to the tunnel. Your eyes were drawn to Jessie who walked back, her cheeks adorably rosy. She glanced up at you, catching each other’s eye. She lifted her hand tentatively in a half wave. This time you readily waved back.

You squinted as Janine came running up behind her and slung an arm around her shoulders, immediately leaning in and whispering something. You frowned further as Jessie ducked her head, dodging away from Janine - cheeks redder than before - and gave her a light shove before running off. Janine simply laughed and waved up at you again.

The game went by quickly. Probably aided by the fact that Jessie played the full 90, keeping your attention squarely on her the game.

The final whistle blew and you killed time in the stands. After the crowds dispersed you heard a loud whistle ring through the stands and you saw Janine waving you down to the pitch.

You gave her a skeptical look as you saw the smug smirk on her face as she leaned against the barrier and waited for you.

“Good game,” you said slowly as you eyed her. “That goal was a banger.”

Mention of the goal seemed to momentarily distract her and she went with it, giving a flamboyant flip of her hair. “Oh that? No big deal.” Her expression then turned impish. “You know what is a big deal though?”

“I’m afraid to ask,” you said in a flat voice, already rolling your eyes.

“Spending the night at Jess’s house,” she whispered conspiratorially while waggling her eyebrows at you.

You felt heat rushing to your face immediately but worked to fend it off.

“Oh please. Don’t even start with me,” you said dismissively.

“Oh no. You’re not getting off the hook that easily,” Janine responded with a wicked grin.

“What are you implying anyhow?” You asked, sounding disinterested.

“Oh I don’t know. Just two of my best friends having a ‘friendly’ little sleep over and purposefully hiding it. Seems a bit sus to me,” she teased.

“Oh my God, Janine,” you chided. “And truly. There’s nothing going on anyway.” You tried to rid your voice of disappointment. She shot you a doubtful look. You huffed and when you spoke your voice was low. “Seriously. There’s nothing to report.” You paused, a small spark of hope burgeoning in your chest. “Unless if Jessie’s telling you something different.”

Janine rolled her eyes and guffawed in exaggeration. “Seriously? You think she’s telling me anything? She guards things like they’re state secrets.”

“Well you heard I spent the night.”

“Simply through powers of deduction,” Janine corrected before grinning once more. “The only confirmation she gave me was the bright red blush on her cheeks. And now you confirming it too.”

“Oh my God,” you complained. You had to laugh at how self-satisfied she looked though. “And for the record. She slept on the couch. Even though I told her I’d take it this time.” You rolled your eyes in recollection.

“This time?!” Janine asked, eyes wide and leaning in. “As in more than once?”

Oh shit.

“What are you two talking about?”

You felt a lightness come over you as you heard Jessie’s voice. You turned your head to her with a smile as she came up beside Janine.

“Oh nothing,” Janine said very innocently, but with a concealed grin on her face.

You shot Jessie a look and she immediately sighed.

“You’re giving her a hard time too, now?” She asked. “Leave her alone, Janine.” The blonde merely snickered. Jessie gave you a nod, beckoning you. “Let’s go.”

“Have fun painting,” Janine called after you both. “Domestic bliss looks good on you!”

Both you and Jessie stopped in your tracks, mouths open, scandalized. You both turned on your heels.

“Shut up!”

Blushes immediately formed on your faces as you looked to each other and Janine keeled over laughing.

“You’re in sync already!”

You shot each other a look and hurried out.

—————

With Janine’s razzing behind you, you both focused on applying a final coat of paint throughout your apartment.

It was easier and faster than yesterday, not only with a bit more practice under your belt, but your teamwork was even more cohesive.

Were you still distracted when Jessie came out of the bathroom in her paint clothes, casually walking over to you as she tucked in her shirt and put on your hat again? Yes. Or when she was cutting in on her section of the room, brow furrowed in concentration as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand? Certainly.

Never mind when she approached you, retrieving the towel she had hanging from her back pocket. “You have something…do you mind?” She asked as she gestured to your cheek and held up the towel. You merely shook your head and she gently wiped away some paint before tucking the end of the towel back into her pocket.

That just about did you in.

You ate a late dinner together, huddled up on the floor, letting the paint dry before moving furniture back.

With everything more or less back in place, Jessie stood by the door once more ready to leave.

“Looks really good in here,” she said as she took in your work.

“Thanks to you.”

She gave you a mild look, but cracked a smile.

“So…,” She trailed off. “What’s the next project?” You peered around, but ultimately shrugged.

“I really don’t know. I’m pretty happy with everything as is.” You made a slight face and spoke regretfully. “I think that might be it. For now anyway.”

Jessie gave a slow nod paired with a small noise of acceptance, but didn’t say anything. You took a breath and spoke instead.

"I've really enjoyed spending time with you these past few weeks. It's been a lot of fun. It didn't feel like work," you gave a small laugh, "-well, I suppose because you did all of the work. Anyway, I hope you take me up on the offer to hang out even without projects, because...I've had a great time and I hope we still get to see each other."

Jessie nodded with a tight smile. "Yeah, of course. I-I had a good time, too." Neither of you spoke for a moment until Jessie gave you a wry smirk. "If I run more errands near your office we can still go for lunch. If you have time."

A small wave of disappointment went through you despite the wink and nudge of her comment. You didn't want to just have lunch with her. You gave a small smile.

"Yeah, that's always an option."

Jessie smiled, but didn't say more. You searched your mind for other ways to encourage momentum.

"Hey, you mentioned that new restaurant downtown, maybe we could check it out together,” you proposed hopefully.

Belated realization crossed Jessie’s face and she nodded. "Oh yeah. That sounds good."

A small pit formed in your stomach. She didn't seem all that excited. She eventually brought a finger up to her chin in contemplation.

"I have international duty coming up, so I'll be gone for a few weeks. But, when I get back?"

You smiled. "Yeah, of course."

Jessie exhaled through her nose. "Okay. Well. You've gotta work tomorrow, so I'll let you go. But, um, yeah. It looks great in here." She repeated as she stood idle for a second before smiling at you. "We'll text."

You offered a stiff smile. "Yeah."

A few beats passed before you both initiated a hug. It lingered longer than usual, but you still felt the weight of disappointment when she pulled away.

She gave you a small smile. "Night." You mustered up a smile of your own and nodded before she gave you a wave and left.

You closed the door behind her and stood there for several moments, unsure of what just happened. Things had been going so well and then suddenly fizzled. You frowned. Did you read into things? Maybe she legitimately just wanted to help you and that was it. She was really that thoughtful and generous of a friend.

You sighed heavily and turn on your heel. You were too much in your feelings and needed to relax. You should reflect on things in the morning instead.

A knock came at your door, pulling a perplexed expression out of you. You turned back and walked over to the door to peer through the peephole.

Jessie. You frowned further. She was looking around and seemed tense. You opened the door.

"Hey Jess. Everything okay?"

She moved past you quickly before stopping in front of you.

"Yeah. I just forgot something," she told you, almost short on breath.

You didn't get a chance to inquire, because she took a step forward, her hand coming up to cup the side of your neck and kiss you. The kiss was hard and a bit stiff and it caught you completely off guard. You let out a muffled noise of surprise and she pulled back with the cutest look of worry on her face though her hand remained warmly on your neck.

"Wa-was that okay? I didn't ask first."

You reached forward and grabbed her hoodie, pulling her back in and kissing her once more. She stumbled into you, but quickly recovered and relaxed into the kiss. You continued to kiss, wrapping your arms around one another. You would've felt beyond embarrassed by the slight moan that escaped you as she deepened her kiss, if not for the one that came from her immediately after.

When you broke apart, you were both breathless and warmth radiated from your cheeks. You held back your smile of elation.

"Took you long enough," you teased as you bundled her hoodie in your hands and gave her the gentlest push. She smiled, giving a sniff of a laugh as she pulled you closer. You kissed her again.

"You had me worried at the end there," you told her quietly. She exhaled, her eyes searching yours.

"Yeah, that didn't end the way I was picturing it would," she said before cracking a smirk. "Hence me coming back."

Your smile grew and you cupped her cheek. You kissed her once more, her readily returning it.

"I'm so glad you did." You let out a small laugh and frowned at her. "I was legitimately contemplating if I'd misread everything and you were really just itching to do some renovation projects."

She laughed in return, a blush returning to her cheeks.

"Yeah, not entirely," she deadpanned. "I legitimately enjoyed doing those projects with you, but yeah, I can't say I didn't have ulterior motives." She snickered lightly. "Kelli heard I've been doing this work for you and she's been asking me to come by and fix her kitchen faucet. I keep dodging it and telling her I'm busy."

"You mean you don't do this for everyone?" You feigned surprise before continuing. You laced your fingers behind her neck and idly ran a thumb along the nape of her neck. You worked to cap the feeling inside of you as she leaned into your touch.

"If I was really smart," you continued, "I would've dragged this out until you built me a whole new apartment."

Jessie didn't skip a beat.

"I'll build you anything you want," she said, her tone serious and gaze steady. You bit your lip. Who was this girl?

"I really, really like you," you told her softly and slowly. "Have I told you that?"

"Not exactly," she replied before gesturing to your surroundings with a nod. "I think half your condo is a testament to how much I like you."

You bit back a grin. "You could always say it...," you coaxed hopefully. She gave you a quiet smile.

"I really, really like you, Y/N."

You captured her lips again in a kiss. When you pulled back a soft sigh of disappointment escaped you.

"Are you sure you have to go?"

Your heart raced as she leaned her forehead against yours and squeezed you tighter. You could hardly believe what was happening. A short while ago Jessie was telling you "We'll text" and now her body was flush against yours, she was telling you how much she liked you and kisses peppered your conversation. It was like a new evolution of Jessie - a side of her you'd only dreamt of.

"You're making it very hard to leave," she said with a sigh. "Believe me I don't want to." She leaned her head down to lay a single kiss on your neck and very successfully sending shivers down your spine. "I have a team meeting first thing in the morning."

You bit the inside of your lip. You should really try to be good. But with Jessie finally in your arms, you didn't want the moment to end.

"I can drive you in the morning." You smiled at her. "It's only fair." She chuckled and you leaned in. “And, if you’re comfortable with it, no one has to take the couch tonight.”

A/N: Well, that's all, folks! Thanks again for the indulging me. Hope you all enjoyed!

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso imagine #canwnt #janine beckie #portland thorns

284 notes · View notes

saintmuses · 27 days

Text

❝𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩❞

Pairing:

Jealous!Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary:

Despite they were not even together, Jonathan Crane made her suffer the consequences for flirting with Bruce Wayne.

Warning(s): implied future SMUT. Slightly Dub-con. Dominant and implied possessive Jonathan. Spanking. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 954

The steering wheel groaned slightly under the pressure of Jonathan’s hands that were curled into fists around it.

He couldn’t stop the moments from spilling over in his head like flashbacks in a film reel on the screen.

She was…so gorgeous tonight. In that sparkly dress that drew the attention of everyone.

Even Bruce Wayne walked up to her with intentions in his eyes to take her home with him.

Jonathan didn’t…he didn’t think she would be the one to flirt back with that godforsaken man who considered himself as the savior of Gotham, to feed the fuel to the fire of brimstone and ashes inside of his mind.

He was violently screaming inside of his head, unraveling as his rationality fell apart by each word that repeated back to him as a sacred prayer he refused to kneel for.

One of the things he dealt with on a daily basis as a symbolism of insanity that sometimes shone in his icy blue eyes, through words from his tongue, or even in his laughter when he was alone in empty space with four walls around him.

Jonathan was breathing heavily, the pure rage within him having reached its height.

No one had a claim to her, but him. He had always been secretly possessive over her in many forms. When they were in college, she became his friend, and he went so far as eradicating her other friends that way she could only go to him in the name of friendship. However, he had always knew he wanted her, but never as far as doing anything because he never had to worry about her finding other people to be with.

Now that chain that held them together was weakening as it was clear the bond was going to be threatened by others.

She was his.

He steered the car toward the edge of the dirt off the road, then he slammed his foot on the brakes causing the tires to screech as he did so. He pulled the vehicle to a sudden stop causing her to turn her head to look at him with confusion in her gaze.

Jonathan turned towards her but said nothing, his eyes locked on her as his body trembled from the intense rage and he felt like he could burst.

“You really are something special, you know that?” He finally said something, although icily, eyes blazing with brimstone as he stared straight at her.

He was furious to the point that he couldn’t see or think clearly, but he couldn’t deny how much of a lure she was to him.

“I’m not sure why I haven’t given you a good spanking yet,” he huffed, storm began to take over his irises as his lips curled into a snarl.

Her breathing hitched as her eyes widened before narrowing it. “I dare you.” She hissed, eyes narrowing in fury as she challenged him.

Oh, she should know he would accept it.

He heard her yelping when he reached across the passenger seat and dragged her over onto him in the driver’s seat where she was forced to accommodate her knees around his thighs on the leather. He then dragged the hem of her dress just under the curve of her ass, and she gasped when he landed a hard smack on the back of her thigh.

He wasn’t going to stop with one spanking, and he continued to slap one of her thighs until she started to let out little gasps, ending with whimpering.

“You deserve every red mark that’s going to be on your skin, sweetheart.” He said lowly, informing her with monotonous tone.

He reached for her thighs to grab the hem of her dress, pushing it up until it bunched up around her waist. He did all that too quickly that she did not have time to react to his ministrations. She hissed in surprise when his hands grabbed her ass; fingers squeezing her flesh firmly in a possessive hold, ignoring the lace of her panties before using one of his hands to land a harsh smack on her ass. “You’re mine.”

Of course, he knew she was surprised by his behavior since he had never acted like that towards her. He continued to alternatively swat her thighs and her ass, enjoying every second he could spend making her feel the sting of his slaps.

“Am I making myself clear to you, sweetheart?” he growled, glaring at her through the glass bounded by his metal frames.

He withdrew one of his hands from her ass until he reached between them, reaching down towards her legs. His lips curled into a smirk when he smacked her hard between her legs, enjoyed hearing her gasp.

Jonathan noticed the sudden change in her body language and the way her eyes widened as he crossed the line.

Her eyes were a bit strung out, and before she could respond, he reached behind her and grabbed her ass with his fingers, digging into her raw skin with his fingertips which made her thighs quiver in response while whimpering.

He knew he was getting to her, and he was enjoying it. A part of him could never see himself taking this far, but he couldn’t stop himself now.

He looked at her with a slight maniac grin and continued to slap the inside of her thigh, then he reached for the thin fabric of her panties, curling his fingers into the underwear before pulling it aside until her cunt was exposed as he gave her another slap. He mentally noted a slick sensation that came from her cunt.

“Enjoying this, sweetheart?” he said condescendingly, his voice growing lower and more deeply with each word.

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #the dark knight trilogy #cillian murphy x reader

293 notes · View notes