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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

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fit by my side {Machine Gun Kelly}

@bitchylittleredhead said: Okay I hear your MGK x pastel!reader and I raise you MGK x Mother Nature!reader. Hella plants, strong love for animals, heckin soft, v kind, mom friend, sunshine child. (I just really really love soft paired with him, it’s so damn cute) also I love you I hope you are well 🧡

Also This Concept

A/N: 3177 words. Gender Neutral Reader (they/them) ! im worried kells is OOC. also there’s no smut but it does get M rated, but there’s no genitals specified. gets quite sappy at times. also @url-under-construction i hope u like it and i hope its good.

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When you meet Colson, he’s famous, but he’s not, you know, famous famous. You meet on the set of The Dirt; he’s one of the stars, you’re a production assistant and stand-in when they need it, and you don’t think for a second that he’ll even remember your name when this is all over.

But he does; in rehearsals, you’re the one reading the lines for the characters they haven’t cast yet, and the first time the four main cast members see you, in your floaty, floral top, and your gentle aura, and then to hear you say, with absolute sincerity, ‘your mom’s a cunt’, it has them bursting out laughing. You smile, sweet and kind, and you step gently through the blocking that has the character you’re currently standing in for, stabbing Tommy - Colson - with a pen.

Maybe the juxtaposition of you taking part in this whole production is what intrigues him.

When filming starts, you’re still around, and something about seeing you, amid this performance of debauchery, and yet you’re still sincere and gentle, your choice of attire making you stick out like a sore thumb amid the leather and grime. At first, he tries to play it off, that you look somewhat out of place and it’s eye-catching, but you bring the cast food and water and whatever they need, you go on coffee runs, and take a genuine interest in each of them, and by the time he realises that his mood lifts every time he walks on set and sees you there, he knows he can’t play it off as you catching his eye for completely platonic reasons.

He asks you out the week after Casie leaves from visiting set, having seen you interact with her, entertain her while Colson was in hair, treating her with just as much kindness and respect as you did everyone else on the production. It convinces him that your intentions are true, and he knows that he can’t finish this production without shooting his shot.

By the time the wrap party comes around, you’re calling him your boyfriend, at first tentative, looking to him for confirmation, but then you see the way he beams at how the words sound when you say them, and you grow more confident each time you say it.

It’s met with... confusion.

Really?

It seems no-one saw that coming - if anyone, I would have expected Douglas - you hear, and frown.

“What does that mean?” You ask; a frown is rare to see on your face, but you’re wearing it anyhow, and the woman your speaking to splutters her way around a sentence as she’s trying to backpeddle.

“I just- I mean, well, Kells - Colson - he’s so... Doulgas just seems more... refined? Not that Colson not, you know- you’re just -”

“I’m just what?” You ask, not accusing, more curious than anything else, and the woman’s voice dies in her throat as she looks you over; pale blue jeans and a pastel, patterned button-down that would have looked right at home in the eighties.

“I’m just concerned for you,” she eventually says, laying her hand on yours like she’s trying to do you a favour, “Colson’s intense, I’m just worried you’ll get hurt.” You see what she’s trying to say, but her tone is so painfully condescending.

“I’m an adult,” you tell her, tone understanding but firm, “and I appreciate your concern, but I promise I can take care of myself.”

The moment you can get out of the conversation, you find Colson, talking animatedly to one of the makeup artists, and you slot yourself into the space by his side. Automatically, without even stopping the conversation, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, and you gratefully take the moment to press your face against him, wrapping your arms around him without saying a word. It’s both strangely intimate and familiar, his thumb rubbing small circles against your side.

As he stops talking, there’s a lull, and you don’t have to look up to know the makeup artist is giving you both a strange look.

“Ignore me,” your voice is muffled against him, using one hand as if to waive off any last bits of hesitation.

“They’re fine,” Colson assured, tapping you on the hip. He’s still oozing casual confidence

You’ve been together for almost half of filming, which isn’t exactly a short amount of time, but usually you try and keep things professional on set, so it’s nice to be able to be close to him in public.

The rest of the cast know, of course, you’ve been out with them on several occasions, and they all have come to adore you just as much as you adore them. Something about hearing Daniel drunkenly assure you that if Colson ever hurts you, that there’d be a line of people ready to slap some sense into him. You try to brush him off, endeared by his drunken affection, but he turns suddenly to the rest of the cast.

“Hey, hey, hey - who’d throw down for Y/N?” He asks; without hesitation, Douglas, Iwan, and Colson raise their hands, eyes wide and alert, as if the offer needed to be acted upon immediately. The show of support has your heart swelling in your chest.

You find yourself fitting into his life back in LA easily; while beginning work as an assistant on a Netflix original series, you call into his house in the Hollywood Hills, delighted to be privy to demos and snippets from his next album.

And you meet his friends, shake their hands and smile and chatter with them. They’re not sure what to make of you at first, no-one really is when you present yourself in conjunction with Colson, but soon they start to see what he sees in you. It’s endearingly genuine and thoughtful and honest and enthusiastic and -

“They’re like sunshine,” it’s Rook’s Instagram live, almost six months into your relationship with Colson, that really cements it to the public. Rook is smoking in Colson’s living room in the middle of the afternoon between recording sessions, and someone asked what your deal was.

“I’m so sick of - and I know Kells is, and Y/N too, not that they’d ever say anything. ‘ve never heard them say a bad word ‘bout anyone, you know,” Rook hits the blunt again, his face scrunching up, “but everyone ‘round here’s so fuckin’ sick of people talkin’ shit ‘bout ‘em. For real, Y/N is sunshine, nicer than all of you motherfuckers put together,” and he laughs, but it’s clear he isn’t entirely joking, “- you know what?” He asked, eyes lighting up and standing abruptly, grabbing the phone.

“Baze, man, you seen Y/N?” He calls, and Baze responds from somewhere off-camera that you’re outside. The comments are going off, but he pays them no mind, heading out to the backyard, only to see you by the back fence, peering over into the trees, on your tip toes, one hand straining over the fence, in shorts and a singlet in sunshine yellow.

Rook calls your name.

You shush him loudly, and then, without looking at him, slowly wave him over.

As he approaches, he can hear the telltale sound of a bird chirping, and as soon as he gets close, he hears you whisper -

“I think they’re bluebirds,” you murmur, and finally look back at him, lowering yourself, surprised to see his phone held aloft. He tells you he’s live streaming, you wave awkwardly, which is when he sees the slice of banana you’re holding, “I’m not sure what they eat; do bluebirds eat banana?” You ask, a little helpless, looking at Rook, and then to his phone.

After a moment, you step aside, and gesture for Rook to take a look over the fence, and sure enough there’s a nest with a single, rather sad looking bluebird with it’s wing bent at a strange angle, calling out pathetically, obscuring a few eggs, just out of arm’s reach. While he’s looking over the fence, also trying to reach them, and also trying to get the phone close enough to see if anyone watching the livestream could identify the bird or offer any suggestion, he hears your footsteps retreating.

“Stay there, I’m going to get Kells,” you call out to him, voice bright, “he’s got long arms!” And Rook bursts out laughing; you weren’t wrong.

While waiting, he sits against the fence and answers a few more questions, until he looks up and sees you, expression concerned, and Colson uncharacteristically fond as he lets you lead him by the hand.

You show him the nest and ask for him to get it, worried the bird was hurt, and he obligingly reaches over the back fence to gently collect the bird nest, trying his best not to jostle the bird. The bird’s wing appeared to be broken, and Rook ends the live when you mention that you’re going to take the bird to the vet.

Already, the fandom is exploding from what had transpired.

People are making suggestions as to what the birds should be named, people are claiming your caring and sweet personality is completely fake, people in the live managed to screenshot Colson’s expression as you’d lead him to the birds, how smitten he was with his hand in yours, and have started posting ‘get u a man who looks at u like kells looks at y/n’ all over twitter and tumblr.

“Bird update!” Several hours later, Colson posts a series of videos to his instagram story, “for those of y’all who don’t know, Y/N found a bird with a broken wing in a tree out the back of my place, we rescued it and it’s eggs, and took it to the vet,” and with that he flips the camera around, from a close up on his face, to show a large, cardboard box in the corner of the room.

Peep Davidson was written in large, black letters on the side of the box.

The rest of the videos are outlining what the vet had told you all, and that the bird should only take about seven days to heal before you could put them all back into the wilderness.

At that, he pauses.

“You worried about putting the birds back when you saw that cat the other day?” And he angles the camera to reveal you, laying with your head in his lap.

“The orange one?” You ask, voice heavy, as if he’d disturbed you when you’d been right about to fall asleep. You yawn, and he confirms, you give a little, lazy shrug and smile, “not sure where that cat is.”

“Fuckin’ hell, babe,” Colson laughs, “you gotta stop finding random animals in my backyard.”

“They find me,” you counter, and shift so you can press your face against his belly, humming contentedly as his free hand begins stroking your back.

“Snow White-Cinderella-Pied Piper motherfucker,” how that is somehow the softest, most gentle words to ever leave his lips, is utterly baffling, but there’s so much love and adoration but you turn enough for the camera to catch your delighted little smile, “you’re-” he starts, “who’s that dude from that, that My Hero shit we were watching the other night?”

“Koji Koda, you weeb,” you tease him fondly, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, and that’s where the video ends.

That’s the day it’s confirmed for the rest of the world. There’s countless paparazzi photos, and hints, and speculation, but this is the first time he’d called you anything but your name, and they’d all seen you snuggling up to him, your head in his lap.

This also is the day the trend begins on his Instagram story of a photo of you, usually in his backyard, with whatever animal had decided to befriend you that day.

My partner. My backyard. No fucking idea who’s animal that is.

And he still goes out and gets fucked up, and sometimes you’re there, and sometimes you’re not. When you’re out together, it still doesn’t quite make sense; he’s hard partying and over the top, and it seems like it wouldn’t be your scene at all.

But then there’s photos of Colson and a few of his friends standing on the edge of a roof, announcing that they’re Kings, and you’re by his side, smiling and waving at the person taking the photograph. He manages to get himself injured pulling a stunt at a friend’s house party, but you’re in the back of some influencer’s vlog, straddling his lap with tissues in your hand, him holding you secure as you clean up the scrape on his forehead; it’s kind of sickening how in love he looks, as he watches the way you concentrate. When you notice his expression, your own softens, and you lean in to give him a kiss.

And so you start to make sense, but people still ask why.

So when asked, you tell people that you support each other, and challenge each other, and yeah, that’s absolutely why you’re together, but it’s not the whole reason as to why you make sense.

Because no-one sees the way you hook your finger into his belt loop at the back of his pants at the house party, and you press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he knows exactly what that means. He’s quick to make some flimsy excuse to leave as you step into place by his side, which everyone he’s speaking to immediately sees through. You play at being flustered, tucking your embarrassed expression against him as he slings his arm around your shoulders, and calls an Uber.

The drive back to his place has you both on edge with anticipation, his hands all over you in the back of the car while you try to hold a civil conversation with the driver. It’s killing you not to give in, but you know it’s worth it.

“You’re such an idiot!” You announced, grinning from ear to ear the moment you get into the house, before the door’s even closed, and he slams it shut to press you against it. Kissing him feels like a cathartic release, but after a moment you shove him back, loudly admonishing him for taking part of a stunt that got him hurt.

“You could have been seriously hurt!” You keep poking him in the chest to punctuate your words, and he steps back each time, expression alight, pupils blown wide. He keeps reaching out, as if to touch you, to snag your clothes, like it’s a game when you smack his hand back every time.

“Got a gnarly cut though,” he pointed out, as his ass hits the kitchen island. His legs open, making space for you, and you step into it.

“Gnarly cut,” you murmur, tone surprisingly derisive, and you reach up to push his hair back from his forehead. His head tips back, leaning into your touch, the look on his face almost dreamy even as you’ve got a hand on his hips, pushing him back on the counter.

Then you’re in his lap on the counter, hand fisted in his hair, lips on his neck, leaving bruises and bite marks. He’s trying to get you naked, efficient and desperate, but the moment he gets your shirt off, you push the fruit bowl behind him onto the floor, and push him back against the granite countertop.

“You were worried about me,” he smirks up at you, admiring you with your hands planted either side of his head.

“Because you don’t worry about your damn self!”

“Ooh, breaking out damn tonight? Must be serious,” he teased, deliberately riling you up; he loved this side of you just as much as the sweetness. Instead of responding, you reach up under his shirt and rake your nails harshly down his chest and stomach, delighting in the way he arched up at the sudden sensation, eyes falling closed.

With one hand still flat against his belly, the other comes up to cup his jaw, gentle at first, before your fingers move to caress his throat, and you press yourself against him.

“If you get yourself killed, I’ll kick your ass,” you whisper, lips inches from his as you press firmer against his throat. He grins, and sighs, the sound content and syrupy and so fucking into it, leaning up, to meet your lips with his, to feel the pressure on his neck just a little more.

And you bite, and you scratch, and you ride him on the kitchen island. The location is new, but the situation isn’t; once he’d discovered the righteous, sexual fury you’d been bottling up, he’d been more than happy to let you unleash it on him. Not to say that he didn’t give as good as he got; there’s been several times he’s had you swearing a blue streak, seeing stars, desperate and blissed out in equal measure.

But then there’s your dominant moments, the mean streak, and the teasing, the sting of your nails and your teeth and the way you push him around, into the mattress, against the wall without hesitation, and that he covets. No-one else is allowed to see you like that. To be tied up or blindfolded or or punished or pushed around, at your mercy, it’s as close to Heaven as he’s ever felt on Earth, because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that your heart is kind, that you’d never really hurt him in a way he wouldn’t like.

You make him feel safe.

And it’s not just the sex, you’re never dismissive of ideas or suggestions, seemingly always ready to help if he ever needs it, rather than judgmental. It makes him want to be there for you too.

He wants to be better for you.

Which is kind of terrifying to consider.

“I love you,” he tells you in the shower, in the afterglow, soft, pausing where he had been washing your back where you couldn’t reach. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he felt like he needed you to hear them.

“Love you too,” you say around a yawn, though the words are as genuine as they’d always been coming from you, and you lean back against him, leaning your head against his cheek in a moment of quiet intimacy. You try to kiss him like this, but turns your face directly into the shower, and end up spluttering and breaking the moment.

Colson chuckles softly, stepping back and pulling you with him, out of the stream of water and into his arms so he could kiss you properly. You’re still giggling as you’re wiping the water from your eyes, looking at him with fond adoration. When you settle your arms around him, you quiet down and bask in the moment, his forehead coming to rest against yours, warm and safe in his embrace, sensing that, in that moment, he felt the exact same way.

#mgk #machine gun kelly #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk imagine #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #rook xx #douglas booth #daniel webber #iwan rheon #the angry lizard writes

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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years

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Nothing's More Important Than Quidditch

Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Some Swearing. Highly Suggestive. Someone gets hurt.

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Using Prompts two and three: "OH...MY...GOOOOD!"/"MY EYES! MY EEYEES!"

Fred and George Weasley were men of simple tastes. They liked pranks, food and Quidditch. Though if you were to ask Fred he would argue that there were nothing more important than Quidditch.

He'd never missed a game. Never missed a practice, and had been able to afford it he'd never miss a Cup. So that being said, you can imagine how shocked his team were when he told them he wasn't feeling well enough to train tonight.

"You're dying aren't you?"

"What? No, Lee. I'm not dying!"

"Then I'm sorry I mustn't have heard right when, the Fredrick Gideon Weasley, just said he wasn't well enough to play Quidditch?"

"Piss off."

It was Sunday lunch in the Great Hall and Angelina had the whole Gryffindor team huddled together. She was discussing her newest game strategies when Fred spoke abruptly, all eyes bulging at his words. Expressions a mixture of confusion and concern. Fred never. Missed. A. Game.

"Hey!" [Y/N] had arrived and happily sat her self amongst her close group of friends. "What's with the faces?" Her brows furrowed as she filled a Goblet with her favourite drink.

"Fred says he's not training Tonight." Angelina answered, still gawking at the Redhead in question.

[Y/N] choked on her drink. "He's what!?" She coughed, hand on her chest in shock.

"It's not a big deal!" Fred groaned. "I've just got one cracker of a headache. Need to sleep it off and I'll be right as rain." He forced a smile, though to the group it appeared more as a painful grimace.

"Well, I do hope you feel better." [Y/N] leant over the table, placing her hand atop of his to offer some comfort with a reassuring smile. "What about the rest of you?" She straightened herself, taking a pastry from the bowl infront of them as she did so.

"We're still training" George replied, "Not all of us roll over because of a wittle headache" he pouted at his brother, trying to stir him up. Fred retaliated, through the light laughter of his friends, by throwing a bread roll at his brother.

"Coming to watch, [Y/N]?" George spoke, still laughing as he brushed crumbs from his clothes.

"Afraid I can't, tonight."

"What!?" Lee groaned, "come on! I'm going!"

"Yes, well as tempting as it may be to spend more time by your side Lee", she leant into him with doey eyes batting her eyelashes flirtatiously, hands cupping his bicep. Returning to her previous position she continued, "I have so much Homework to do it's not funny. I'll find myself joining the next Headless Hunt if I don't hand Snape his Most Potent Poisons Assessment tomorrow."

"Barrell of fun you two are, today" George rolled his eyes.

"Right, well the rest of you. We've got training to do!" Angelina stood, gesturing for the Quidditch team to follow. Somewhat begrudgingly, with various disapproving moans escaping their lips, they made for the Pitch.

"Positive you'll be okay, Freddie?" George lagged behind in a final ditch effort to convince his brother to join them. "You could always just watch from the stands."

"I'm positive, Georgie. I'm just not right at the moment."

"Do you want me to stay? I will if that's what you'd prefer..."

"Who are you? Mum now?" Fred joked "Get out of here you sap!" He waved his arm as if trying to shoo him from the hall.

"Don't worry, George. I'll look after him" [Y/N] assured.

"Such a faithful little bestie you are." He said while ruffling her hair. "Alright then, see you two in a couple hours" he waved to them as he ran to catch up with his team.

"Come on you. Let's get you to bed." [Y/N] spoke to Fred and they made their way to the common room.

---

So much for a couple hours. Mere forty minutes later saw the same team arriving back through the Fat Lady.

"How was I supposed to know she was right behind me!?" George complained loudly, followed closely into the room by the light giggles of Lee and Harry. No such laughter, however, could be heard from the mouth of the Gryffindor Captain.

"A concussion George! You gave Katie a concussion!" She was near shouting at the boy.

"I SAID I WAS SORRY! I didn't see her!" He threw his arms up in defence. "Pomfrey says she'll be right in a few days, what's the fuss?"

"The fuss, George, is that we just lost a whole night's training! You're just lucky our next game isn't for another fortnight, Weasley. I have to take Katie some things for her stay in the Hospital Wing, YOU! had better think fast about how to make this up to her." With a final menacing point of her finger Angelina stormed off towards the dormitory she shared with Katie.

"Should we check on Fred?" Lee spoke to break the guilty silence.

"Yeah, hey - don't forget to tell him how his Golden Boy brother sent our best chaser to the infirmary!" Harry goaded making his way over to Hermione and Ron by the fire.

"Little prat" George grumbled as he and Lee made their way to the dormitory. Lee was laughing hard at his friends remark."He doesn't watch it he won't be 'The Boy who lived' for much longer. Might pick up where You-Know-Who left off." George went on as he leant his back against the door, pushing it open as his hand twisted the door knob. Lee's laughter only increased.

"I'd like to see you- OH...MY...GOOOOD!!" laughter and smiles faded instantly as his eyes fell on the tangled mess of sheets and the bodies of his two close friends in place of where Fred should have been resting.

The sudden exclamations catching the attention of [Y/N] and Fred, their eyes shooting directly across the, should have been empty, bedroom.

"SHIT!" Fred yelled as he pulled off of [Y/N] and covered her with his blanket. "YOU WEREN'T MEANT TO BE BACK FOR A COUPLE HOURS!"

"MY EYES! MY EEYYEES!!" George screamed dramatically. Turning away from the scene he covered his face by his hands, desperately trying to lose the imagine of his brothers and best friends mostly naked bodies.

"It's not what you think!" [Y/N] began, throwing Fred's jumper on over her head which could very well have been a dress on her. She stood, tugging at the material willing it to stay in place before fixing her hair.

"It doesn't look like you were napping!" Lee snapped sarcastically, "nor does it look much like a POTIONS ASSIGNMENT!"

"[Y/N]" George began, not turning to face the two - rather speaking to the ceiling as his back faced them. "I know you said you'd look after my brother but MERLIN I should have laid out some guidelines, that is not how you handle a headache."

Fred had put on a pair of trousers and a singlet and quickly made his way to stand infront of the two boys, arms out pleadingly, "I know you're both a little shocked right now and this is going to take some time to process but for the love of GODRICK!" He clenched his teeth and spoke in a low growl, "would you keep your voices down before the entire bloody common room hears yo-"

"WHAT'S GOING ON!?" Ron had burst through the door. "Oh God" Fred groaned throwing his head back walking away from the door.

"We heard shouting, is everything okay?" Hermione asked frantic, as Harry followed her in.

"Yes, Hermione everything's fine -" [Y/N] went to explain.

"NO!" Lee interrupted "NO! THEY'RE DOING IT!" He screamed pointing his finger accusingly at the two red-faced teens. Harrys eyes were wide with shock.

"It's not what you all think! Please just listen to me..." Fred begged as [Y/N] stood beside him. Looking to one another defeatedly.

Everyone, aside from George, turned to face them. Awaiting the explanation as to why these two had been...doing what they were.

"Uhmmm..." seeing the group stare before him suddenly ran Freds mind blank. "This isn't the first time this has happened. Actually it happens a lot." Not the best opener. The group grimaced, looking very uncomfortable at their friends confession. [Y/N] dropped her head into her hand. "What I mean is" he tried to recover, "this isn't a one time deal. We're not just fooling around, we're..." the words caught in his throat.

What were they? A couple? Was he wrong and they were just friends with benefits? What was this?

They looked at one another, Fred's eyes searching [Y/N]'s face for the answer. She smiled, grabbing his hand gently.

"We're together" she spoke. Eyes not leaving Fred.

"That's great and all. But this is still traumatising." Lee deadpanned as he gestured between the couple and Fred's bed.

George cleared his throat, "umm, yeah. I'm really happy for you two."

"That'd be more convincing, had you actually said it to us rather than the wall." [Y/N] laughed. Fred threw his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Georges head turned slightly, eyeing the two in his peripheral before shutting his eyes tightly. Trying to muster the courage. "Yeah, sorry bout that just...it may be difficult to look at you the same for a while. I saw a lot more than I'd had like to." Everyone laughed at the comment. The light atmosphere helping him to relax a bit he turned to face them. Even if his eyes fixed to anything but them.

"Wait a minute." Harrys laughter had stopped completely. "Did you two plan this whole thing?"

"I guarantee we never planned on getting caught" Fred replied.

Rolling his eyes Harry continued "ditching practice I mean."

Lee and George both looked at each other before slowly turning to glare at the couple.

"Well. Yeah" [Y/N] answered.

A slow clap started to sound throughout the room as Lee and George mockingly applauded the two. "Well done. Truly you two that was quite the convincing performance." George smirked. "Honestly, [Y/N], that spit take really sold the whole thing. Couldn't have done better myself." Lee nodded as she playfully curtsied with her hand on the seam of Fred's jumper.

"WELL!" Lee clapped once loudly, rubbing his hands together. "This calls for a celebration. Shall we?" He bowed to the door, ushering everyone from the room.

"Ummm Lee. Mind if I put some pants on first?"

"If you-OH! right. Yeah. Meet you two down there!" He was the last to leave, closing the door with a quick wink.

Fred and [Y/N] looked shyly back to one another before breaking into fits of side splitting laughter. Fred wrapping his arms around her waist as they calmed down.

"So...we're together, huh?" He grinned resting their foreheads against one another.

"Only if that's what you want." [Y/N] placed her hands on his chest, eyes nervously searching his.

"That's all I've ever wanted" he moved a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her lips into his. Kissing her like he never had before.

Fred and George Weasley were simple men. They liked pranks, food and Quidditch. Though if you were to ask Fred, he would argue there were nothing more important than Quidditch. Well...maybe one thing.

#prompt list fics #prompt list #writing prompts #hp imagine #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #George weasley #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine

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prettywordsyouleft · 3 years

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The Cowboy - Part 11

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) – highly suggestive scene and the angst train is back in action for this part

Word count: 2470

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

The celebrations continued even once you were back in Blayne. News travelled that Jaehyun had come in fourth with his score at the rodeo, earning him a cash prize and a qualifying ticket. When his truck hurtled down the main street, the evening was brighter than usual.

You peered curiously at Avery and then at the diner’s lights. “Shouldn’t that be closed by now?”

“They’re waiting for us,” he mentioned with a loose grin, and you blinked blankly. “To celebrate!”

“Oh! Right, of course. Everyone knows you’ve done it.” Glancing over at Jaehyun, who had been mostly silent for the ride home, you gave him a small smile before swallowing down your emotions.

Once you had pulled away from that life-altering kiss, Jaehyun had been taken in one direction and you in the other. He had interviews to do, and people within the circuit to meet with. Although the sun had still been out when he had finished his run, dusk had swooped in and carried it away by the time you were finally loading back up into the truck.

There was so much to talk about with Jaehyun.

“We won’t stay for long,” he announced when he parked the truck into the free spot outside the diner, and a small gasp left you when you found the place bustling with people.

Avery smirked. “We’re a tight-knit community. We celebrate everyone’s successes like this.”

“And everyone’s misfortunes too,” Jaehyun muttered, plastering a smile on his face before opening the door to the truck.

You hesitated to get out, and Jaehyun turned back to look at you questioningly. Rubbing your neck, you pointed awkwardly to the party. “Should I come in or wait out here?”

“Why are you even hesitating? You’re part of this world now.”

Still unconvinced, you took the hand he offered to help you down and then nodded softly, feeling rather subdued despite the happy atmosphere.

The noise once you were all inside increased tenfold, party poppers and streamers going off around you both. Jaehyun laughed and held out his arms to the heavens. “Looks like I’m still pretty decent, huh?!”

And then you lost track of all the conversations that began around you. Jaehyun was proudly talking about his run and Avery had shown everyone the recorded clip of it. You nodded and clapped along when prodded to join in, but remained on the outskirts.

It was foreign for you to see so many people come together like this to support each other. Sure, you had friends and family, but even then, it was never like this. A text to say congratulations when you got a promotion from your parents or some quiet drinks with a few friends to celebrate an award you had received. Nothing as loud as this.

You realised you craved this more than what you had back home. The community here was one that cared about each other. Even if they gossiped endlessly and had no filter at times, each person within the diner cared about the one they sat or stood next to. They had grown together, shared their burdens and prevailed against the odds as one.

It amazed you how much you still had to learn about Blayne even after living here for a couple of months.

“Y/N, did you enjoy the rodeo?” a voice asked, and you turned, smiling warmly at June.

“It was quite the experience.”

“You look rather exhausted.”

You nodded once. “A little.”

“Jaehyun, can you run Y/N home now?”

“Oh no! This is all about him, and I’m fine. Honestly.”

Jaehyun was at your side almost immediately, and he grinned. “I bet this is all too much for Miss City here. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

“But-!” you exclaimed as he gently tugged you out of the seat you had managed to secure earlier, dragging you to the exit with a hasty farewell. He opened the door to the truck and helped you in before rounding the other side and climbing aboard.

You stared at him. “You don’t have to-”

“My Mum is a gem, isn’t she?” he stated with a small smile, waving to those inside the diner. “She always finds ways for me to escape.”

“You mean her coming over to me just now was…?”

Jaehyun grinned. “Thanks for saving my butt tonight. I get really uncomfortable after an hour of being praised. It feels foreign to me.”

“Why? You’re the golden boy. No one can touch the Jung’s.”

Jaehyun smiled sadly as he started down the road. “Attention isn’t something much that I enjoy.”

“It sure looks like you did at the rodeo,” you mentioned, and Jaehyun shook his head, changing gear on the truck before reaching for your hand.

You could tell he had been craving your touch for some time.

“I wanted to have some time with just you earlier than this.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I need to be anywhere else.”

Jaehyun sighed. “Don’t you have people waiting on you though?”

“People where?”

“Back in the city. Your work colleagues, your friends, your family. They’ll need you.”

“I miss them, for sure. Especially Natty. But it’s not like it is out here. Relationships are different.”

“We’re different?”

“Well I’ve never met a cowboy in the suburbs,” you teased, and Jaehyun chuckled.

“What you said earlier, what we did, I get it was the heat of the moment. A different atmosphere than what we both usually-”

“Are you backing out on me, Mr Cowboy?” you asked firmly, and Jaehyun glanced at you several times before stopping the truck in the middle of the country road.

“I’m giving you an option if you want to take it.”

“Didn’t you give me that once you ducked under the bar and came to my side?”

“You’re serious?”

“You don’t think I could love you already?” you proposed, staring intensely at the man beside you.

Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, only to close it a moment later. He grinned. “You’ve rendered me speechless.”

“Why? Because you hoped I didn’t?”

“No, I hope you fall madly for me.”

“I’m well on my way,” you confirm, and Jaehyun shook his head incredulously. “What? Has no woman ever told you that they like you?”

“I’ve never felt deserving of it, no.”

“You and that self-worth of yours,” you muttered, reaching over to cup his jaw in your hand. Jaehyun caught your gaze, and you smiled. “I love you.”

“I don’t think that’s ever going to get old to hear.”

“You’ve not said it back once,” you pointed out, and Jaehyun chuckled.

“You’ve been waiting for it, huh?”

“Normally most people describe it as one says I love you, and the next says it back. I’ve seen enough movies about it,” you mentioned as Jaehyun finally started to drive again, soon heading down the start of your driveway.

“Claim? How come you sound as if you haven’t said anything like this before?”

“Because I haven’t,” you confessed, and Jaehyun stared at you then. You darted your gaze to the drive and reached for the steering wheel to balance the truck out. “Would you watch where you’re going?!”

“Would you stop making my heart swell so much?” he breathed, and you chewed on your lip quietly, Jaehyun taking back the wheel and gripped it tightly.

The energy was charged between you by the time he turned off the ignition and opened the squeaky truck door, you soon following him out.

Stretching your fingers out to try and loosen some of the tension coiling up within you, you both walked side by side up the porch and over to your front door.

“Well, if you’re exhausted, I should let you rest,” Jaehyun stated, and you nodded numbly, reaching in your purse for your keys.

“I had a good time. Thanks for taking me.”

“Sleep well, won’t you,” he said as you opened the front door, stepping over the threshold and taking hold of the wooden frame. You turned to glance back at Jaehyun, the deep way he looked at you causing your stomach to flip.

He didn’t move, however, and you slowly moved the door to close it until his hand reached out and stopped it, your heart now pounding with anticipation.

“I’m so in love with you,” he confessed hurriedly, stepping over the doorframe and picking you up in his arms.

You curled your limbs around him effortlessly, kissing him with demand as he shut the door, hands roaming and tugging at the clothes between you both.

It felt like too much effort to follow the path up to the bedroom, Jaehyun acting disorientated as he moved around the place, shedding your upper clothing in the process. Somehow you ended up in the kitchen, a moan leaving you as he propped you down on the countertop, your hands finally ridding him of the singlet that had been under his rodeo shirt.

He equally had removed your bottoms, staring at you in a way that made you feel like the only woman made for him. You embraced him as soon as he was close enough to, and Jaehyun groaned into your ear. “I’ve been in love with you for some time now.”

“It’s not a race. Just because you hold a record around these parts, doesn’t mean you need to prove you beat me to feel something back for you.”

“You’re something else you know that? Who knew you’d come into this town and change everything for me?”

“Whatever happened to the guy who told me I wouldn’t last a month?” you breathed out, arching your back as his mouth trailed from your neck to your chest.

Jaehyun smirked at you then, his hands moving to cup your breasts within them. “You made sure about adapting to this place.”

“It’s not so bad. I mean, sometimes I would kill for the accessibility of the city, and have a Starbucks nearby. The smell sometimes out here is something I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to either.”

“I feel there’s a but attached here,” he mused, reaching up to kiss your lips passionately. It was strange to be having such a conversation with the temperature and physical needs between you increasing.

Yet when you pulled back for more air, you beamed at him. “But I’m falling in love with this place, this town, and your people. I couldn’t imagine my life any other way now.”

The new week began, and you felt as if you were riding along on cloud nine. Everything was beautiful out here. You worked, you explored, and you loved long into the summer nights with Jaehyun. Your riding lessons continued, and now that you had the hang of loping, you would often feel exhilarated riding Roger. You felt free and empowered.

Blayne was more than just a small blip on any map.

Despite it all, you still regarded the reason you came here as a priority. With your plan neatly tucked into your briefcase, and slipping into one of your more casual business attires, you looked into the mirror of the bathroom and smoothed down your hair.

“Today’s the day,” you told your reflection, smiling brightly.

Everything about you felt ready right now. You had all the signatures you had sought out, and word had travelled enough for Mr Jung to reach out for this meeting to happen a day earlier.

Today you would get the piece of land you needed to start the redevelopment.

You drove to the Jung’s homestead with your game face on, your finger tapping on the steering wheel repeatedly. You hummed a tune to yourself and ran through the opening part to your proposal in your head. When you parked the car, you smiled brightly at Avery when you crossed him on the yard, but he didn’t return the gesture quite as genuinely.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” you greeted all the same, and Avery grimaced.

“I think you might need to prepare yourself.”

“Oh, I’m completely ready for this,” you assured him, but Avery shook his head.

“Not for your plan. Listen, Y/N, things have-”

“You’re here,” Mr Jung cut in, and you turned your attention to the elder, nodding confidently at the man. “Come inside.”

Following him in and frowning at Avery’s worried expression, you stopped midway in taking the seat across from Mr Jung’s desk when you noticed Jaehyun sitting in the one next to it. “What are you doing here? I can pitch my idea to your father alone.”

“Pitch your idea?” Mr Jung repeated, laughing hollowly. “I didn’t ask you here today to listen to any nonsense about the resort plans your company has. I have no interest in them.”

“With full respect, Mr Jung, I’ve worked incredibly hard with the people of Blayne to find a happy medium.”

“And just how many of them did you sleep with or was it just my boy here?”

“Dad!”

“No. I want to hear it from her. Was it in the plan you made to sleep with my son to get the land, to trespass onto what can never be yours, and fool this idiot into thinking you could actually have something together?”

You were rendered speechless, your game face falling away and crumbling into a thousand pieces. You tried to say something, anything, to not only prove your sincerity but to defend yourself against his vicious attack.

However, Mr Jung’s tongue wasn’t done yet, and he glared at his son, shaking his head slowly. “I should have left you to die in that fire you started. If this was how you wanted to end Blayne, I’d much rather you have gone up in smokes back then than face you and your betrayal now.”

The information stunned you further, and your head jarringly turned to the man now sobbing in the chair beside you. “You were the one to start the fire?”

“It’s not how you see it!” Jaehyun exclaimed, though to whom, you didn’t quite know.

Regathering yourself, you shook your head. “Mr Jung, please allow me to explain myself, as you requested earlier.”

“You have nothing of worth for me to listen to. I’d like for you to pack your bags and be gone from Blayne before sunset.”

“Excuse me?! Surely I can do something to change your opinion-”

Mr Jung slammed his fist down on the table. “Outsiders like you only cause problems for the people who breathe for this place. Get out and don’t come back.”

Glancing at Jaehyun, who was rocking back and forth in his chair holding his head, and then back at the resolute expression on the owner of this land’s face, you finally allowed your emotions to burst through, choking on the sob that followed.

“I’m so sorry!” you announced before turning for the door and running out it.

_________________

Part 12

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notyoursterotypicalnerd · 4 years

Text

Online Love

Marvel Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Synopsis: Bucky and his mysterious S have only been communicating via phone that is until S suggests they finally meet in person. Bucky isn’t sure how he feels about that idea but he says yes anyway.

Word count: 2026

A/N: Hope you don’t mind that i used your stucky social media post as inspiration. @snowbarrysolicity

Their lives had finally stopped revolving around fighting. They had both finally figured out how-to live-in peace. No more fight against the enemy and no more fighting against each other.

They were childhood friends; battle tore them apart, but daily remainders kept each other close.

One was known as the hero to the public while the other was known as the enemy, normally stories like this would sound cliched and audiences would know where this would turn. This is exactly that story.

“Yo, Buck. We’re all heading out, want to come join us?” Sam yelled over the music in the gym.

Bucky looked up from the punching bag “Whose us?”

“Stark, Barton and Rogers”

Bucky scrunched up his face “Maybe another time.”

Sam rolled his eyes “Don’t know why you bother training; we both know I’m the stronger one out of the two of us” He laughed.

“I’ll give you whose stronger” Bucky joked as he raised his metal fist.

The two males laughed together.

“Right, fine. Catch ya in a bit” Sam called out as he headed out of their shared house.

Bucky paused for a moment as he listened to front door close shut. He rushed to his phone next to the speakers, he picked it up and smiled as he saw an unread message from his new crush.

Bucky clicked open the message.

It was nice to finally hear your voice in person last night. x S.

Bucky felt like a child with a hidden crush that his too shy to share. No one knew that Bucky had been talking to a guy. They had meet on a dating app, Sam had set one up for Bucky thinking that Buck could move his looking for love online instead of trying old 1940’s tricks that make any woman sick to hear.

He had swiped on a guy who he only knew as S, even the profile picture seemed a bit vague. Bucky didn’t care, the two of them had been messaging each other non-stop since even swapping numbers.

No one knew about Bucky’s new interest; he was even too shy to talk to Steve about it.

Bucky bit his lower lip as he tried to find the words to reply with.

Maybe we could meet in person?

Bucky backspaced the message “No” he sighed to himself.

Want to stay up late again tonight?

“Ah!” he cringed to himself. “Don’t come off quick” he sighed again.

Same time again?

Bucky pressed send. He lowered his head thinking he was going to wreck his chances too quickly. They had only been talking for almost two months, they each had their excuses on not wanting to meet in person.

Bucky’s excuse was always the same, I’m sorry but things have been hectic and trying to meet in person would be rushed.

While S’ excuse would be work’s been holding me hostage, we’ll plan something...eventually.

Bucky looked down at his phone as an instant reply came through.

I’m free now.

Bucky jumped in giddy. He took a deep breath as he rang S’ number. He looked up at the punching bag, he bit his lower lip.

“James”

He loved the way S said his name. No one called him James, not even Steve; at least not anymore.

“S” Bucky smiled at himself as he began to walk out of the gym.

“did you get much sleep after I hung up last night?”

Bucky was glad he was alone, no one could see him blush “Ah, sorry man that I crashed. It’s just been crazy lately.” He couldn’t believe that he fell asleep half way through their conversation last night.

S laughed a little “has anyone ever told you that your snore is cute?”

Bucky paused for a moment as he stopped on the stairs. He didn’t know how to respond to that. He took a second to recollect his thoughts “you should see what else is cute” his eyes widened as he realised what he had just said. “fuck!” he mouthed to himself.

S laughed a little “Are you finally free from being busy?”

Bucky clenched his human hand, letting his nails dig into his skin. He wasn’t ready to meet in person. What happens if S didn’t like what he saw? What happens if S knew about Bucky’s past?

“James, are you there?”

Bucky unclenched his hand “Yes, sorry” He took the final three steps up the stairs “is work still holding you hostage?”

“At the moment things have seem to died down and I’m no longer chained to my…” S stopped himself from speaking “Maybe we could finally meet up tomorrow?”

Bucky went quiet again, he moved along the hallway. He couldn’t but he wanted to. He shouldn’t but he wanted to. A million thoughts ran through Bucky’s mind.

“James?”

Bucky stopped at the entrance of the kitchen “Tomorrow?” he tried to remain calm.

“Yeah? Say around 3?”

Bucky paused. His thoughts started to swirl around trying to find a good excuse to use, trying to find something that could avoid a meet up. He loved texting S and he loved finally hearing S’ voice for a change but meeting in person? No, that was off the table.

“James?” S started to worry.

Bucky caught his reflection in the window. He didn’t think he was a looker, his shoulder length dark hair pulled into a messy bun, a scruffy beard around his lower jaw. A baggy singlet over his upper body and a pair of sweats over his lower body.

He had heard Sam’s jokes too many times, not that it bruised Bucky’s ego but some days he did believe the joking insults Sam said.

“James? Are you still there?”

Bucky snapped back into the conversation, he wanted to hang up. Use some excuse of the phone call ending abruptly. “I..can...3..is” Bucky fumbled with his words.

“Are you sure, James? We don’t have too meet in person”

“Nah, it’s cool.” Bucky finally managed to find his words.

“Nah, you don’t want to meet up or cool that you do?” S tried to find certainty in the answer.

“Sorry, S. I totally want to see you tomorrow, it’s about time, anyway. Right?” Bucky tried to act cool.

S laughed a little “It’s certainly overdue. Alright, say across the road from the building that used to be Stark towers?”

“3pm, at that coffee shop?”

“Yep. Alright, I get it...I’ll get off the phone” another voice could be heard in the background, but Bucky couldn’t make out what they were saying “Sorry, James. Friends of mine want me off the phone, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye S.” Bucky waited for the line to go quiet before he put his phone in his pocket.

He couldn’t believe it; he was going on his first date since having his memory and metal arm altered by Shuri. To say Bucky was nervous would be an understand; he was scared and nervous. He couldn’t believe he had agreed to it.

# #

Bucky placed the razor down on the sink’s edge as he looked at his smooth face in the reflection of the bathroom mirror; he smiled a little.

“Oh, come man, now I’m going to have to look at that ugly thing all the time? At least the beard was an improvement” Joked Sam as he stopped in the doorway of the bathroom.

Bucky rolled his eyes.

Sam’s eyes moved to the bathroom floor seeing Bucky’s chopped hair on the floor “hope you plan on cleaning all that up”

Bucky looked at Sam.

“What? I could’ve said something about the towel too but” Same shrugged a little “I’ve grown numb to you walking around in a towel.”

Bucky smiled a little.

“Doors were invented for a reason dude” Sam leaned against the door way. “What’s with the clean-up, anyway?”

Bucky looked at the sink, he turned on the taps trying to clean up the mess of his beard “I..” he paused for a moment “I have a date”

Sam burst out laughing “What girl wants a weak ass like you? Should tell her, that the falcon is over here.”

Bucky wanted to correct Sam, it wasn’t a she he was meeting; it was a he. “Come on, man. We know the ladies love the metal” He joked back at Sam.

“Always using that lame ass excuse” Sam rolled his eyes “Do I know her?”

Bucky shrugged.

Sam shrugged in reply “Is that all I get? A shrug? Man, your finally getting the hang of this century.”

Bucky turned off the taps, he looked at Sam “That’s all your getting, birdman.”

“Bird man?” Sam pretended to feel offended “At least I’m a chick magnet”

It was Bucky’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Are you bringing her back here?”

Bucky carefully knelt down to the ground trying not to let his towel come loose, he shrugged.

Sam shrugs “again with a shrug?”

“Look, Sam. I don’t know. This is our first-time meeting in person. Probably go back to theirs” He started to try and clean the cuts off his hair from the floor.

“Well if you bring her back here, than just send me a text so I can clear the zone. I don’t want to see your nasty ass walking around naked.”

“ ‘right” Bucky tried not to feel hurt over the last comment. He was trying to stay positive for his date with S but the conversation with Sam was taking Bucky’s thoughts down.

# #

Sam looked at Bucky “Gotta admit, you don’t scrub up too bad” he complimented his friend.

Bucky smiled a little. He was dressed in jeans, plain shirt, and a leather jack. Bucky ran his metal fingers through his hair to slick it back slightly, he used his human hand to check his phone “thanks man.”

“Let me know how it goes and if things don’t work out. Give her my number”

“Yeah, that ain’t happening.” Bucky waved bye to his friend as he walked towards the front door. He pulled his sunglasses out from the inside of his jacket and put them on. He shoved his metal hand into the pocket of his jeans trying to make himself look as human as possible as he walked out of their property.

# #

Bucky checked the time on his phone. 14:50. He sat down outside the café as he waited for his order. He could feel his heart racing, he wanted to bail, and ghost S. Bucky would rather go back on the run again than deal with meeting S.

Bucky looked down as he felt the table vibrate, he noticed a new message flash across the screen of his phone. He opened the message.

Who am I looking for?

Bucky looked up around him trying to see if anyone was looking at their phone. A lot of different people were, he sighed a little than began typing.

Leather jacket, glasses on. Back corner on the right, outside the café.

Bucky looked up at the café waiter as they placed down the coffee he had ordered “thanks”. Bucky hit send on the message.

He ran his metal fingers through his hair, nervous were building up.

“James?”

Bucky quickly shoved his metal hand in his jacket pocket “S..” he looked up at the male standing next to him; his eyes widened couldn’t be, but it was “Steve?”

Steve Rogers winked at Bucky “You seem surprised?” He sat down across from Bucky.

“Well, yeah...I’m waiting for a friend. I didn’t think this neck of the town would be your thing anymore”

Steve shrugged a little “I’m surprised you never put two and two together.”

Bucky paused for a moment “Your S?” He was in disbelief “you can’t be S.” he was lost for words “How?”

Steve smirked “You see Buckaroo, you weren’t taking my hints before and I thought I’d try something different. Though I’m surprised you even know what a dating app is”

Bucky blushed a little “Me? What about you? Did Stark finally teach you how to finally use a phone?”

The two males laughed.

Bucky was no longer nervous to find out who S was, but he felt stupid that he hadn’t realised it was his childhood friend.

#stucky #mywriting #4th october 2020 #steve rogers x bucky barnes

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poeticandvaguelysweet · 5 years

Text

Prompt #250 - Nightmares

@marveljurassicandallthefandoms: Owen waking up screaming as he dreams the Indominous Rex is about to eat Claire. Claire (who was working late) comes running into the bedroom and calms him down, reminding him that he was safe, that SHE is safe. They end up falling asleep in each others arms, with Claire being the big spoon because sometimes, even Owen needs to feel protected.

Sometimes I can follow a prompt, sometimes I cannot.

It feels like I have been trying to get to 250 prompts for years, like, two now? I don’t know. It’s taken a very long time and we here now bitches.

AO3

NIGHTMARES

Claire fought her nightmares by avoiding them. If she didn’t sleep, she couldn’t dream and if she couldn’t dream, then the smell of the Indominous’ breath could not refill her nose like she was breathing right there next to Claire in the bedroom of her modest apartment. By the time she did close her eyes it was due to extreme exhaustion and what followed was a deep, dreamless sleep. Even the most insistent of nightmares had a hard time breaking through that. It wasn’t exactly foolproof, but it took the edge off sleeping if only a little.

She was up until the late hours, the clock ticking way past midnight, time passing her by like an old acquaintance. She tapped away at one report or another, keeping her mind occupied with odd jobs and extra work. She didn’t mind it, it kept her busy and prevented her from sleeping.

Owen, on the other hand, gave in far earlier than Claire. Of the two, she considered him the more reckless and he was, shrugging off his nightmares as if they were nothing until they were bad. This wasn’t his first time at the rodeo. Owen was used to the things his mind let linger at the edges of his sleep, wearing him down until he was too vulnerable to fight it. He told her that he saw a therapist once, but somehow that stopped when he took the InGen job. They didn’t talk about it much after that due to Claire’s own pride. Part of her was worried he would suggest she do the same. She wasn’t ready for that.

Claire listened to the wall clock tick, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she considered her aversion to therapy might, in itself, explain her need for it. They were just nightmares. Claire had them as a little girl and eventually, they went away. So what if these were vivid and four-dimensional? She couldn't seem to shake them, and no matter how much Owen reassured her it was no longer real, the terrors did not abate.

‘Claire!’ Owen’s voice bounded through the house, shaking the walls with her name as a desperate plea. She was all too familiar with him calling for her like that, and yet it stopped her heart every time. ‘Claire?’ The second shout of her name was warbled and quieter than the first. He was awake and searching for her in the dark of their bedroom, not entirely convinced that his nightmare was a figment of his imagination.

She was up and out of her chair the second she heard his voice. Despite wanting to avoid her own nightmares, Claire couldn’t do the same to Owen. She hated to expose herself like that, could not bare being vulnerable in the dark of the night where he was nothing but gentle with her. Claire felt like she was a doll that would break, Owen's hands soft, his voice quietly reassuring.

‘Hey,’ her voice was quiet, barely breaking the air in the room. ‘I’m right here.’ He was sitting up in the middle of their bed, legs splayed in two different directions, blankets dishevelled like he had fought them in his sleep. He relaxed at the sight of her, his guard let down. Claire couldn’t see his face but she knew the relief that would be washed over it.

Like a child, he held out his arms towards her and Claire stepped into them, climbing onto the bed and settling herself into his lap. His hands were shaking, his touch a little too tight as he buried his wet face into the crook of her neck. Claire listened to his ragged breathing, her fingers winding their way through the locks of his hair, twirling dirty brown strands around her knuckles. ‘I’m right here.’ She whispered, careful not to raise her voice too loud in the dark of the bedroom that had fed him mistruths. ‘It’s okay.’ He squeezed her tighter, air escaping her lungs for a brief moment before she felt his lips press a searing kiss to her neck.

‘We were in the garage, hiding in front of the Jeep. I got up to run and you stumbled, lost your footing or something, I don’t know. I was holding your hand, trying to pull you through the doorway but it wasn’t enough. You were right there. Right there.’ She felt his left-hand clench and unclench against the flesh of her hip. She was there and then she wasn’t, he couldn’t believe how real it felt, how harrowing as it lingered in his mind and on his skin despite the fact that he had wrapped himself around her.

‘I’m right here.’ She pushed her hands through his hair, pulling it back from his face as she kissed his forehead and then his temple, his cheek and the side of his mouth. ‘I’m still right here.’ She punctuated her words with gentle kisses, trying to zap his muscle memory into the real and not the dream. ‘It didn’t happen like that, Owen.’ He nodded, head tucked under her chin once again, his breath hot against the bare skin of her chest, her v neck singlet dipped low.

She was always there when he woke, even when she was in the other room, she was there. The second he called her name Claire found her way to him. It had to help, waking up and finding her still there, realising it was all a dream. It had helped when she had nightmares that the raptors turned on Owen and tore him to shreds, or that he hadn’t been so successful at the Indominous paddock. Her heart still hammered, her hands shook and her memory felt a little fuzzy, but he was right there, rubbing her back with soothing strokes and kissing her temple telling her it was all alright and he was right there. They had been lucky.

Claire found it harder when she dreamt about the boys. Her nephews were over two thousand miles away and where FaceTime existed it wasn’t enough. She needed to see them, to wrap her arms around them like Owen did to her, and squeeze until they squirmed away for air. That’s why she couldn’t close her eyes, sometimes the nightmares were so thick and so real when Claire woke up she didn’t quite believe Owen’s words that the boys were okay. For a week there, in the middle of the day, she would suddenly feel overcome with mourning, thinking the were dead, that her dreams were real and everyone else had been lying to her.

If those boys had died … her brother-in-law would have been first in line to sue her for the death of his children, as so many others had. Whatever semblance of a relationship she had with Karen––the six-monthly calls to casually check in, and the offer to stay at her place when another funeral rolled around––would vanish entirely. Her sister would never speak to her again.

It crossed her mind so frequently that it hurt, the whiplash realisation of what was and wasn’t real, the daydreamed scenarios that fucked with her head.

Claire just wanted it all to go away and so far not sleeping had seemed to be the solution.

This was real. Owen’s heart thudding against her chest, still coming down from the dream evoked adrenaline rush as his reassuring you’re still there kisses turned into lustful ones. She felt his teeth nip at her neck as his fingers curled into the waistband of her sleep shorts. It was simple like this for Owen. The nightmare scared the shit out of him, rattled him stupid and petrified and then he wanted to fuck. He said he liked the reminder that she was still real and alive as their flesh slid against each other, her breath catching against his ear as her body spasmed with his.

He didn’t seem so rattled after that. Life picked up and moved on, he would fall back to sleep after another hour or so, where sometimes they would fill the dark with mindless chatter, learning each other’s lives. When he slept again, he was out until morning and everything seemed fine once the sun was up.

The nightmares didn’t seem to cling to him like they clung to Claire, they didn’t follow him into the daylight hours, or at least Owen didn’t let them. Maybe that had been her problem. But, then again, he was an old hand at the terrors that could plague one’s mind … and he’d had therapy.

‘I think I need help.’ Claire told him, their bodies still slick with sweat as she clung to his side, Owen’s hand tracing lines up and down her hip.

‘With what?’ His hand stopped to squeeze her thigh, his tone already building a defence.

‘My nightmares.’ She admitted so quietly, like if she said it out loud they would attack all at once, trying to break her.

Owen pushed out a heavy breath, his head turning to kiss her hair. ‘Maybe we both do.’ She realised then that his hands were still shaking, not so badly but still there. It wasn’t because of the sex, that had only calmed it. He took her hand as he shifted so his back was flush with her chest, her arm stretching over his side until her hand sat flat above his heart. It was still beating wildly, subdued but wild. ‘There’s no easy way around it, Claire.’ He muttered into the dark, lifting her hand from his chest to kiss it briefly before putting it back. ‘And, you need to sleep.’

‘It’s the only way I can control it.’ Not sleeping meant the nightmares couldn’t find her but the delusional half state she was living in thanks to exhaustion wasn’t any better. He kissed her hand again before covering it with his palm, his heart beating heavily under her touch.

‘I dream about the boys too.’ That was one he kept to himself. ‘We nearly lost Gray in one of those damn merch booths. Some nights I just lay here and stare at the ceiling wondering what would have happened if Zach and I couldn’t get him free.’ His chest stuttered with a shallow breath under Claire’s hand. ‘You never would have forgiven me.’

‘Yes, I would have.’ He did more than he needed to that day for her, for her nephews. Claire pulled her hand out from under his and tugged on his shoulder until he was lying flat on his back. ‘I don’t know what would have happened that day if you didn’t help me.’ She straddled his waist all to lay her head on his chest. ‘If something happened, it wouldn’t have been because you didn’t try hard enough.’

He kissed her hair once again. ‘We really should listen to our own advice.’ Claire chuckled, they really should. ‘Hey?’ He poked, waiting until she lifted her head to meet his eyes. ‘Maybe we should go visit your sister and the boys?’ She nodded, feeling an exhaustion pull at her shoulders, making her eyelids droop. ‘I care about you, you know that right?’ It was evident in the fact that he woke up screaming her name, hands shaking because he had dreamt that she died, and he was powerless to stop it.

I care about you. Not, I love you. Although Claire wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for that.

She gave him a nod and a misjudged kiss to his chin. ‘I care about you to.’ Shown in her unwillingness to nightmare about him in the same way she did not want to have nightmares about her nephews. She could not bear the split second where it felt like that was the reality. ‘We’re safe.’ She told him, this time lining up her sleepy kiss so that her lips met his sweetly. His arms wrapped around her middle, squeezing but not so uncomfortably this time as her ear dropped to his chest right above his heartbeat, the feel and sound of it a little more normal now. ‘The nightmares are going to stop.’ Her admission was quiet, barely-there as she whispered it against his chest, eyes closed, mind already wandering.

Someday, and she hoped it wasn’t far from now, they would both make it through the night in one go without so much as waking to the sound of a creak in the floorboards let alone the travesties of their own minds.

#clawen #jurassic world #claire dearing #owen grady #claire x owen #owen x claire #despite the odds

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meshugana1 · 6 years

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Can you have my girlfriend turn me into a submissive ballerina girl dancing en pointe after I insult her dancing when she is showing me what she learnt?

Payton was beyond excited when she entered the doorway to her apartment and immediately tossed her bag on the couch next to her boyfriend and initiated a series of pirouette’s around the living room and circled the couch then moved into her adagio movements. Her boyfriend sat on the couch disinterested with his dancing girlfriend, far more interested in progressing in his game. Cade had never been interested in her outside the bedroom and he hardly paid attention to her wants, dreams, thoughts, and feelings. He was an imposing man with dark hair and relied on the charity of those around him to maintain his lifestyle, Payton wasn’t wise to his game when they met and he took full advantage worming his way into her home.

She ended her demonstration with an assemblé and posed beautifully in front of him. He remained oblivious to her and leaned to catch a better view of the television screen. Her excitement died and she let her arms fall. Ballet was something she had wanted for a very long time but it was considered a little too girlish even in their small town, she had all but given up hope when a studio opened up in the main square. It was small and didn’t have much of a class but Payton had leaped at the chance to try one of her dreams. The woman that ran it was a little past middle aged but still had the trim figure of a prima ballerina, she had once been just that until the inevitable happened and she retired to this small town to spread her passion for the art. As it stood Payton was her only regular student and listened to her ballet mistress like a nun listened to the gospel.

“Babe, could ya move outta the way?” Cade said not even bothering with eye contact and expectant for her compliance.“What did you think?” Payton said.“Of what?”“My dancing? My ballet…I think it’s coming along real nice don’t you?”“Are you really still doing that shit? How much is she charging you to go to a room with a mirror and bounce up and down a whole bunch?”“That’s not ballet Cade and you know it. C’mon, just tell me what you thought.”“Would you shut up and move? I’m almost past this level.”“Why won’t you just tell me what you thought? You play this stupid game all the time,” she said now actively trying to disrupt his view, “just tell me what you thought it’ll only take a second.”“Get outta the way!” He said but the damage was done and he watched his on-screen avatar die brutally and he felt his annoyance turn to rage. He threw his controller on the ground, cracking its hard plastic and sending the buttons flying then rose to his feet in front of her, she was trembling as she had yet to see this side of him.

“Fuck! You wanna know what I think of your stupid dancing shit? Fine! You fucking suck at it! You look like you’re having a fucking seizer and I’m completely humiliated to even be near you when you’re doing it. Fuck, it feels like I’m being turned gay with how fuckin’ girly that shit is. Now thank’s to you I gotta go buy a new controller, now get outta the way.” He roughly moves past her and she can hear his truck rumble to life and speed away. She felt empty as the tears formed in her eyes, she could feel them trickle down her cheek but she didn’t feel sad. That came a moment later as she squatted in her tutu and held herself. She didn’t know who to talk to so she left and walked the distance back to her ballet studio in a blurred haze.

She felt hands take her shoulders and was relieved to see her ballet mistress asking what was wrong. All her restrained emotions came pouring out and the old dance teacher held her and listened to the whole sordid affair. After Payton had calmed down some her mistress when and brewed her some tea and told her a little bit about herself, Payton was awed by the bombshell she had shared with her but a smile crept up her face when the older woman made a suggestion that would be quite beneficial to them both.

Cade was disquieted by his outburst, not from any genuine remorse but because he may have allowed his temper to threaten his situation. He had plans for these sorts of happenings though and made a quick trip to a florist to buy her some roses, no other flower seemed to fix this sort of screwup like roses. He pulled out his phone to give her a call to apologize and recommend a romantic evening, it always seemed more genuine with a phone call as it came off like it just occurred to him and that it isn’t rehearsed. It was unnecessary though as she had called him, she was going on the offensive and wouldn’t even let him speak before she told him that if they wanted to stay together he needed to meet her at her ballet studio right away. He said yes with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, he was not looking forward to watching her flop around with that shit but if it got him back in her good graces then he could stomach it for a bit.

He pulled in to the parking lot finding it totally empty as he took a space and forced a smile, armed with his bundle of roses he confidently made his into the building. He saw her still in her precious tutu and an older woman stood beside her in a dark singlet. “Hey babe,” he said starting first hoping to seems like the one who initiated the forgiveness, “I just wanted to say first off that it was really wrong of me to fly off the handle like that. You didn’t deserve it, and I got you these to show how much I mean it.” He handed her the flowers and her face showed a little confusion as she looked at her instructor, she returned with a glance communicating confidence and a pat on her shoulder. She shook her head and said “Cade, you’re a terrible boyfriend. You treat me like a burden and you only care about yourself, thankfully I have a wonderful teacher who has a solution that could benefit everybody.”“And what’s that?” He said, incredulity dripping from his words.“You’re gonna join the studio!”“Yeah, right. You can go ahead and dance on your little tutu all you like but I will be dead before you see me dancing like that.” He said. It was the instructor who piped up next.

“We shall see.” She said, she then rose her hand and snapped her fingers much more loudly than Cade had ever heard someone do before. Suddenly the layabout found his back had straightened out instantly and his feet came together at the heels and his toes pointed away from each other on a perfect line. His arms were where held in front of his chest with his elbows bent forming a semicircle. “That is called ‘first position’ but I’m afraid your ratty clothes are ruining your pose. Let’s fix that,” she said and snapped her fingers again. Cade watched as his clothes rippled and reformed on his body from loose fitting and comfortable to skin tight. He wanted to yelp as he was now dressed in the same sissy outfit his girlfriend wore! His powerful legs were encased in white hosiery that covered his legs and pelvic area completely. His feet were wrapped in pink slippers that had bows decorating the toe. He couldn’t see the bulge of his manhood or his muscular ass through the pink, glittery tutu that was wrapped around his waist. His eyes bulged at the image he imagined he gave off below it and was still embarrassed by the top that covered only his belly and pecs, clearly it was intended for a woman which pained him even more.

His muscles burned at the odd angle they were forced to maintain but as with most things he adjusted, much to his dismay. “Well, I think we’re on the right track cut that disgusting body hair has to go.” She snapped her fingers again and he felt all the hair his body had spent years growing pull back inside of him and leave every inch of him as smooth as a baby’s bottom save for his head and eyebrows. Even his proud bush of pubic hair was no more and though he couldn’t see it he looked like a child down there. He could hear his former girlfriend laughing her ass off as the instructor stroked her chin looking him over. “Still no good, all this unsightly muscle and fat. Not to mention this little thing,” she said raising her foot to stroke his shaft with her slipper, “you seem like the type of loser to get off on people paying attention to you so I’m going to need to make a few more changes.” He closed his eyes but heard the snap of her magical fingers anyway and if he wasn’t being held in place her surely would’ve collapsed from the alienness of the sensations racking his body.

He felt his hair, each strand feeling like it was being pulled out and lengthened to below his shoulders. Her muscles felt like they were boiling and he could see them shrink and leave him with scrawny little arms and legs. His chest did not shrink and he counted his blessings, but it was premature as he saw them plump up and gain several inches that were undeniably breasts. They weren’t big but they were very noticeable considering how large and erect his nipples were. He felt his cock grow hard as his breathing caused the sensitive nubs to rub his dress and send erotic shivers all over him. He felt his panties dig into the crack of his ass as his derrière plumped up and gave him an incredible ass that could only be described as perfect. He felt his face mold into a feminine image of beauty and he could feel his feet shrink and become dainty little things he couldn’t believe were holding him up. Then the thing he dreaded most happened and he felt his hard cock draw up and recede into his body. He closed his eyes and tried to will away the feelings and ignore this twisted reality but he wasn’t strong enough and he felt his cock and balls slip back into his body and become his new reproductive system. A clitoris formed and his slit took shape. Finally, a loud crack was heard as his pelvic bowl widened and his hips took shape.

What stood before them was a vision of the perfect ballerina. Medium height, dark hair tied into a tight bun, modestly sized breasts, a perfect ass and a tight, flat tummy. Cade or rather ‘Cadence’ was terrified to see his reflection in the mirror but it was unavoidable. If he could he would’ve cried. He heard the witch snap her fingers again and braced for even more changes but instead his arms extended and his legs widened their stance. “This is the second position,” the ballet mistress said, “we are going to use magic to help you get the basic positions down at first but you will be expected to learn and become our Prima Ballerina, if you resist or refuse then I’ll just use my magic again and make you do it. I could do that all the time but where would the fun in that be? You will be rented out to dance companies when you’re ready and all the money will come back to us. If you ever want to even dream of being a man again you’ll do as we say, clear?” And it most definitely was. They made him practice tirelessly and even without the mistresses magic Cadence was too weak-willed to argue or refuse and in time became an incredible dancer. On his first night performing in front of a live audience, his mistresses prediction came true and he was so wet he had to borrow several pads from the other dancers.

The end. I hope I didn’t screw this one up too bad for ya!

#ballerina #MtF tf #ass expansion #request

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arosebyanyother-name · 7 years

Text

Brandy had known the Dixon brothers since she was a teenager. When she was just starting high school Daryl had seen her getting beat up and took her home after she had told him about her abusive father. Daryl took her in like a little sister and when he stopped going to school so did she. Every day they hung out, he had money and she never knew where he got it from but it was enough to support the both of them. Some nights he would disappear and she was left with his brother Merle. At first he scared her, she was biracial, half black half white and she knew Merle hated her just on that basis. He would call her horrible names, call her an abomination or a monster. He was gruff and much older but when he left to go to the army she found herself missing him. On the nights when Daryl would leave she was left alone, sometimes their father would find her and yell, drive her out of the house, throw bottles at her. When this happened she found herself longing after Merle and she didn’t know why. He was almost a stranger and instead of wanting her best friend around she wanted him. The man that both scared her and made her feel at home.

That was a long time ago, before the world went to shit. The Dixon’s father was dead and Brandy was on the road with them. They were keeping her safe. They were keeping her alive. Brandy and the Dixon’s came across a camp and had been there ever since, so far safe. Although they stayed slightly away from the camp Brandy had become friends with some of the girls, especially Lori. She had found that she was good with Carl. She enjoyed playing with him and hoped that she took his mind off of losing his father in this upside-down world. Brandy mostly slept in a tent with Daryl, seeing as he was too protective to let her sleep alone but, on the nights where Daryl was really tired, like after a big hunt, she would let him sleep in peace and sleep next to Merle where it often led to more than just sleeping. She didn’t know until it happened but she was in love with him. She was young, only in her mid twenties, Merle was early fourties but she didn’t care. She had never been in love before and she knew Merle didn’t love her, besides, having walkers all around didn’t exactly make it the most romantic place.

Brandy was doing the boys washing. It was hot and she was sweaty. She was only wearing a singlet and her underwear, seeing as she was washing all of her clothes. This also meant that Merle was walking around in only his boxers, now that was something she wouldn’t mind seeing all day. Just as her mind began to wander she felt the hairs on her neck begin to stand. She knew she was being watched. She suddenly felt a hand of her shoulder and jumped.

“Wow there girl, don’t want your tits falling out of that top of yours for everyone to see, or do we” Merle said as Brandy took some deep breaths, calming herself down.

“Merle, don’t do that again. I thought you were a walker. If you’re just standing around help me” she replied, staring blankly at Merle’s wide chest and muscly arms. She could have been drooling over him and wouldn’t have noticed.

“Well then you should actually try to wash my clothes and not just stare. Maybe then I’d help” he told her and then sat beside her, placing his feet in the water a little.

She huffed, as much as she loved Merle he was one of those men who expected ‘his’ woman to do everything for him. Cook, clean, all the while be pleasant and always be ready for a fuck. Brandy just wasn’t that type of girl. She had always been bad at cooking and cleaning, when she washed the clothes always still had dirt marks on them. The boys didn’t care much though, she had noticed that they sort of liked being dirty and she enjoyed seeing Merle dirty too. Even though she wasn’t his woman she acted like it. She did everything he wanted because she wanted so badly to be more than a fuck. He still flirted with other women and she assumed he slept around which made her blood boil. She began washing the clothes again, this time more aggressively, catching the attention of Merle. He looked over to Brandy and raised an eyebrow.

“You know sugartits, I could help or… we could go back to my tent. Get a little busy. Have a little fun” Merle suggested and reached over, playing with Brandy’s hair a little. She pulled away slightly as much as it pained her to do so when Merle’s touch was exactly what she craved.

“Merle, Daryl is still here. He could walk in on us and he’d probably kill you. You know how protective he is of me. He can’t know” she told Merle, not looking at him. She was going red and Merle could see. She wanted him but she couldn’t risk her friendship. Not even for the man she loved. Merle moved behind Brandy, so close that she could feel his breathe on the back of her neck. He began kissing her neck and she could feel herself becoming weak and succumbing to him. His hands moved so that they were on her waist then one moved up and grabbed her breast, softly kneading it. Now she needed Merle and desperately. She quickly popped up and grabbed Merle’s hand, dragging him over to his tent, throwing her top into the dirt as she did so, letting her breasts bounce and also letting Merle watch, licking his lips and smirking.

Brandy ran into the tent with Merle and laid down on her back, quickly pulling her panties down. Merle watched happily, getting ready to take her and ravish her like his member was urging him to. He zipped the tent up so no one would see them and then removed his boxers, exposing his engulfed and almost purple penis. The need was almost too much for him to bare so he quickly got onto his knees and then over Brandy, entering her already wet pussy. She moaned loudly and closed her eyes, her face suddenly being grabbed roughly by Merle.

“Are you forgetting something baby? Eye contact, remember?” He said. Merle loved seeing the changes in expression of Brandy, the way her eyes moved from happiness to urgency to complete and utter bliss. He loved seeing what he did to the girl, what his large dick did to the girl, not to mention he knew the intensity would make her organs even better. Brandy immediately opened her eyes again, only to stop Merle from yelling at her and informing everyone at the camp of their doings, especially Daryl. Merle had a way when he fucked her, he liked being in control, being dominant, and naturally Brandy loved it. He was her first time and it was the only thing she knew when it came to sex. The first time she did it was because she didn’t want to die a virgin.

Not long after they both finished, Merle put his hand over her mouth as she came to her high. Not only did it muffle the sound of the pleasure she was feeling but it made him feel in control and she knew he loved that. He pulled out and then laid next to Brandy, panting slightly. Brandy was smiling like a goof, happy for what she just experienced. She was about to roll onto Merle when the tent opened. She looked up and saw the one person she really didn’t want to see while she was naked next to Merle. Daryl.

“D-Daryl. Daryl don’t freak. This isn’t what it looks like” she said and pulled Merle’s boxers over her lower parts. She didn’t want her best friend to see her naked, not her lower half at least.

“Brandy, get out of here now. I need to speak with my brother” Daryl said with a clenched jaw and clenched fists. She knew this talk wouldn’t just be words, it would be fists and teeth and knees and feet. It would be violent so she just stayed, protecting her loved ones, looking away from Daryl in shame. The shame of disappointing her best friend.

“I said get out!” Daryl yelled at her. This was the first time she had been yelled at by him, and the first time she had been yelled at since she stopped living with her father. She immediately jumped at the sound and got up, quickly running out. She was crying now, not knowing really why but by the look in Daryl’s eyes, she could see something that was in her father. Something almost evil.

After a few minutes of just standing around and waiting for a fight to break out she began to head yelling, some of it she couldn’t even understand because of how thick their southern accents were when they were mad. She heard a punch and someone grunt which immediately sent her running back to the tent. When she got there Brandy saw Merle on the ground holding his face, red from anger. She had never thought that Daryl was the kind to throw the first punch, nor did she think he would get the chance, especially fighting with someone like Merle. She looked at them both shocked and then knelt down beside Merle, taking a look at the place he was struck.

“Daryl, stop this shit. You can’t punch the man I love even if he is your brother” shit. She hadn’t realised what she said until she said it. She was screwed. She would die of embarrassment or worse, live on and be teased every day by Merle. Just as she felt the tears coming back she felt something wet on her lips. It was Merle’s lips. Merle was kissing her, and passionately. They hadn’t kissed before, only fucked but for some reason this was more intimate.

“Be my girl. Be my beautiful companion in this shit filled world” he said to Brandy.

“I’d love to”

#merle dixon #merle #merle fanfiction #merle Dixon fanfiction #merle fanfic #Michael Rooker #Michael Rooker fanfiction #the walking dead

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