#this morning i realised that one of the prompts on the list was repeated and i was like aighttt- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovebugism · 6 months

Note

hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further.

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel.

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car.

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance.

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice.

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air.

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you’re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him.

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that.

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void.

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can.

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to.

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles.

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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featherandferns · 11 months

Note

15 with fluff please!!

15. Well, you're just a ball of sunshine, huh?

you ask and i deliver ;)

i'm not sure why so many of these prompts revert back to food for me but...oh well lol

feel free to request: prompt list

wake the sleeping beast - prompt 15

JJ’s shaking your shoulder. His grip is firm but soft, fingers warm and rings cold. Safe to say, it’s very annoying. You shrug him off jerkily.

“C’mon babe. Gotta wake up,” JJ mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

“No.”

He chuckles. There’s the telling sound of bedsheets shuffling as JJ gets up and out of bed with a groan. You don’t move; staying nestled in the warmth of the sheets, encapsulated by the smell of laundry detergent, sea salt and JJ’s bodywash that has rubbed off onto the blankets and pillows. The moment of bliss is short lived as he pulls up the blinds, flooding the room with sunlight. You groan into the pillow and pull the sheets over your head.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” JJ sardonically says.

The mattress dips as he climbs back onto the bed. Your battle to keep the sheets pulled over your head is lost as JJ yanks it down to reveal your pillow-crease-imprinted face. He sits on your legs, making you grunt in complaint once more.

“Seriously. Get up,” he repeats.

“Fuck off.”

“Woah. Well, you're just a ball of sunshine, huh?”

“Go die in a hole,” you mumble back, desperately trying not to slip all the way out of your sleep.

“Break my heart, why don’t you?” JJ sarcastically quips.

He flops on top of you and starts pressing kisses against your neck and collarbones. You grunt in disapproval. He’s disturbing your sleep…Eventually, JJ lets up with a sigh. He presses one more kiss to your cheek before catching the hint and getting off the bed. You take advantage of his absence and pull the sheets back up, your smile slightly returning when you do. There’s the sound of creaking floorboards as JJ moves to leave and the click of the door closing. Muffled conversations with the other Pogues follows. You let yourself drift back off to sleep.

Here’s the thing. When you and JJ first started dating, he’d told you that he wasn’t a morning person. What he didn’t know, was that you weren’t either. In fact, incredibly, you were even less of a morning person than him. So, at 11am nearly every day, when JJ would emerge from the fortress of dreams, you were still dead to the world. Waking you up bordered on punishment by death.

There was one way to coax you to the land of the living though, coming with the lowest chance of mutilation…

The smell of bacon slips under the door. It’s like a guiding beacon of light, driving you away from your hazy dreams. It seems to be getting stronger and stronger, and then you realise that it’s JJ’s doing, as the bed dips from him sitting beside you. He doesn’t even have to say anything. You crack an eye open, wincing a little against the daylight, and make out a shirtless JJ. His back is to you, the muscles taught and shifting as he eats, and you reach out a hand to stroke at his skin. Turning around, he smiles down at you, chewing.

“Morning,” you mumble.

“Afternoon,” he corrects.

“Gimme that,” you say, holding out a hand lazily.

JJ rolls his eyes with a snigger. “Thought you wanted me to die?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I didn’t know you had bacon,” you reply.

“Sit up, at least,” he tells you, shifting so he’s sitting on the bed more.

You comply with a sigh, stretching out your arms and legs as you move to rest your back against the headboard. Then JJ’s holding the plate out to you, offering the fork, and you sleepily smile at him in thanks. It’s drenched in maple syrup (just how you like it) and it takes everything in you not to moan as you take a bite.

“Good, huh?”

“Better than sex,” you reply with your mouthful.

With that, the fork is snatched from you. “Hey!”

“Take that back,” JJ says, having another mouthful.

“I will if you gimme back the fork,” you counter.

JJ shakes his head. Has another huge, obnoxious mouthful. Now more awake, you make a half-arsed lunge for the fork and plate. He easily dodges your attempts.

“Gimme it!”

“Take it back!”

“You’re such a baby,” you grumble, rolling your eyes.

“And you’re not?” JJ snickers, quirking a brow at you.

You smile a little at that, relaxing back against the headboard. “Fine. I take it back.”

“Gonna have to do better than that,” JJ shrugs. Another mouthful. There’s only one strip of bacon left now, and a sad pile of scrambled eggs.

“Jesus Christ,” you grumble. “You’re the God of sex, JJ. Happy?”

The forkful of food that’s shovelled in your mouth tells you yes, he is. You roll your eyes and chew through your smile.

“If you get up, there might still be some pancakes left,” JJ says as he moves to stand. The plate in his hand is now empty.

“I might need to work up an appetite for it,” you innocently think aloud.

JJ pauses on his way to the bedroom door. Then, the plate is abandoned on the desk is a careless toss and he’s practically throwing himself onto the bed. Your laughter is cut off by his lips on yours. The kisses taste like maple syrup and morning.

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

Text

Colourblind

AN: this was written for Roo’s Mini March Madness and my prompts were Shoelaces, plaid shirt and panties in the mouth. I hope this tickles your fancy @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Beta’d by Tits McGee herself, @yarnforbrains

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard/banner by me

Master list

Relationship: Dark! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

CW: THIS IS A DARK FIC! Non-Con, Steve is a ‘nice guy’, Manipulation, Invasion of privacy, Kidnap, Knocking out (through removal of air flow), Forced Orgasm, Somnophilia, Bondage, ‘Basement Wifing’, Delusion.

With your eyes closed and your arms outstretched, you took a deep breath and took in the fresh air, feeling the warm sun on your skin. This was the new start that you needed.

When the way that you worked changed due to the pandemic, you took the opportunity to make the most of remote working and gave up the parts of the corporate rat-race you hated. You sold your soul-less apartment in the city and moved up-state to the rolling hills and tall mountains, where you could reconnect with nature and heal your inner self.

Years of stress, compounded by bad relationship after bad relationship had left you hankering for solitude. You still had some parts of your job that had to be done in person, but travelling back to the city for two nights a month didn’t seem so bad when the rest of the time you would be here, in your simple woodland sanctuary.

This move hadn’t been done totally on a whim; you’d done research into where you could be that was out of the way enough, but wouldn’t leave you struggling with all the chores needed. In the end you’d managed to find a place that had an electricity supply for lights and an internet connection, so you wouldn’t have to worry about a generator, but still required a wood burner for heating and hot water. That you could manage. Your mail would go to a PO box at the general store in the local town, and you planned to go once a week to stock up on the basics.

You’d arrived yesterday and spent most of the time since your arrival unpacking and sorting. But this morning when you’d awoken, the sun coming in through the curtains had been so inviting there was no way you could immediately resume your inside tasks without doing a little exploring and getting that peace that you’d moved here for.

You did have a vague idea of what the local area was like - you’d researched that as well, but you hadn’t had the chance to explore on foot before your arrival. You knew that in addition to the rough road that led to town, there was a small path, worn by pairs of feet over the years, to the neighbouring property that sat about 2 miles away. You supposed now was as good a time as any other to introduce yourself to your new neighbour - it would be a blessing if you could be on good terms with them.

You made your way along the narrow track, enjoying the way the trees formed a canopy, letting dappled light through. The area was teeming with life, and you saw more flowers in 100 yards than you ever saw from the window of your old apartment. In the distance, you saw a few deer, and you stilled and held your breath as they lifted their heads, scented you on the air, and then disappeared further into the trees. Then, on top of that were all the birds. You had no interest in ornithology, but even your untrained eyes and ears could pick out half a dozen different species. All in all, the walk was exactly what you’d hoped it would be - a soul soothing experience. Hopefully, if all went well with your neighbour and you made a new friend, it would be one you’d repeat regularly.

The path in front of you widened and the trees thinned, and between them you could see another cabin, similar to your own. As you approached, you could hear a rhythmic noise, and it took you a moment to realise it was the sound of wood being competently split with an axe. You blinked as you came out of the shade, using your hand to shield your eyes, and you followed the sound around the side of the cabin, ready to meet your neighbour.

You didn’t know exactly what you were expecting, but the apparent ‘Greek God come to life’, there in front of you, was not it. He was tall - well over 6 foot - with broad shoulders straining the seams of his plaid shirt, a narrow waist and a denim-clad ass that looked like you could easily bounce a dime off it. You stepped on a small branch that cracked under your foot and he spun round, as if anticipating trouble. You were mesmerised though. His hair, both on his head and in his beard, glowed golden in the sunlight. His blue eyes, as deep and dangerous as the ocean, held yours captive, even as they narrowed. Your body thrummed with desire, a feeling that was almost alien to you. And there was just something about him that struck you as… familiar?

“Who are you?” His voice was gruff, like he hadn’t used it in a while, although you supposed if he lived here alone and had no-one to talk to regularly, that was highly likely. You swallowed and plastered a smile onto your face, forcing your strange reaction down. You held out your hand.

“Umm, hi! I’m your new neighbour. Just moved into the cabin at the other end of the trail.” You managed to give him your name as you trailed off. You were worried for a second at his unwelcoming expression and the way he was still holding his axe, but then his lips twitched, and he swung the axe down into the chopping block. With one stride, he was suddenly closer, enclosing your hand in his much larger one.

“Nice to meet you, neighbour. I’m Steve. And welcome to the neighbourhood.” He chuckled at his little joke, and it put you at ease. “What brings you to this little slice of paradise?” He released your hand, and you found that you missed the warmth of his.

“Looking for a quieter life, really. I don’t need to be in an office all the time to do my job, so I thought I might as well pack up, move out, and lead a simpler life.”

He looked at you, eyes searching as though trying to work out what to make of you.

“‘I’? Not ‘we’?”

You looked down at your feet, feeling small under his gaze, and started to pick at your nails.

“Definitely ‘I’. I’m hoping some time out here - to myself - will make me better at identifying red flags.”

Steve snorted.

“Well, all the green out here should help. What have you got planned for the rest of your day?”

His friendly attitude had you looking back up at him.

“A bit more unpacking, a bit of wood chopping for the stove, and then a run into town to sort out my PO Box and get some groceries. It’s probably going to be a bit of a rush after taking time out for a walk and coming to meet you, but I just needed to connect with nature, you know?”

“I understand perfectly, doll. ‘S why I’m out here too. Had to get away from it all and spend some time by myself. Still do a bit of consulting, every now and again, but I’m lucky enough that I don’t need to work regularly any more. Oh, and don’t worry about wood chopping - I’ve got more than enough here - I tend to go a little overboard, get lost in the repetitive action. How about I drive some round to you in a bit, and then I can give you a lift down into town? I gotta go anyway, and it seems silly for us to both use up fuel.”

You started a little at the suggestion. It felt wrong to accept the help from him, having only been acquainted for less than half an hour, as well as the ‘stranger danger’ aspect. But… it would make your life easier, and you weren’t getting any ‘weird’ vibes from him since his initial confrontational facade had worn off.

“If you’re sure you really don’t mind?”

He smiled down at you and it lit up his face.

“Would I offer if I minded? And besides, it’s the neighbourly thing to do. Shall I come round about midday? We can head on down and then I can show you the best place to eat in town. Sound good?”

You nodded in agreement. “Sounds good, Steve.”

It was the beginning of your friendship. Steve kept you supplied with chopped wood and drove you both down to town once a week, and in return you walked over to his cabin every couple of days, bringing him pies and cookies and your conversation. When you were in town, you started shopping for groceries, and Steve would collect both your and his mail, and you’d meet up at the dinner. It was nice and uncomplicated, and you were happy to have a male friend that didn’t set your alarm bells ringing.

3 months later

“Steve?”

It was Thursday morning, one of your regular days for coming over to see your neighbour. You’d felt a bit like ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ this morning as you’d placed the apple pie in your old style basket so you could carry it over to Steve’s cabin without damaging it.

You were hoping that he was in a better mood today. It was clear to you that something had been bothering him the last couple of weeks. He seemed to be more worried about your safety, trying to get you to stay longer and offering to come over and check on you more often. You weren’t sure what had started his paranoia. Maybe you could drag it out of him today over a slice of pie?

However, when you arrived in the clearing and made your way around the side of his house, he wasn’t there chopping wood like he normally was. His truck was still out front though, so maybe he was inside. You trotted back around, climbing up the veranda steps to rap on the door.

“Hello! Steve?” The door was slightly ajar, and you called through the gap.

“I’m in here, honey!”

Honey? Why was Steve calling you that? Odd.

You pushed the door open and walked in. Steve was standing in the corner by his stove, a cast iron skillet resting on the top, with something sizzling within it. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and turned towards you, a wide smile on his face. You smiled in return, glad to see he was in a better mood today.

“What have you brought me, doll? You know your baking is the highlight of my week.”

You waved your hand at him in a shoo-ing gesture, feeling heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks.

“Steve! Don’t embarrass me. And if my cooking is the highlight of your week, then you need to get out more.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes sparkling.

“But I don’t wanna get out more. Sorta the point of living all the way up here, just like you.”

He had a point

“Touche.”

You breezed past him, your cotton dress swishing around your knees, as you made your way to his kitchen counter, placing your basket upon it and lifting out the pie. Steve came up behind you and peered over your shoulder. Part of your brain was disturbed by how close he was to you, but the other part reassured you that it was just Steve. He was so big that he felt close, no matter where he was in the room in relation to you.

“Oooh, apple! How’d you know it was my favorite, doll?”

You turned your head over your shoulder to look up at him. He really was a handsome man, and if you weren’t set on your path of self improvement and being man-free, you could easily do something stupid, but you didn’t want to lose his friendship.

“Who doesn’t like apple pie?”

He chuckled.

“You won that point, sweetheart. Will you stay for lunch? I’m cooking steak.”

You were sorely tempted. It did smell delicious, and all you had planned for you back at your cabin was grilled cheese and some soup. As you contemplated you nibbled your lower lip.

“I really shouldn’t. I’ve got some work to do, and I don’t want to impose.”

“Don’t be silly, honey. You fit right in, in here. Makes it feel more homely when you’re around. But how come you’ve still got work?”

“You know, cos I work.”

His brow furrowed.

“No, you don’t.”

What?

“Umm, yes I do.”

“You are silly, doll. You did work, but you resigned, remember?”

You spun around to face him and found yourself trapped between his large frame and the counter, his arms barricading you in. A prickle of unease made its way up your spine.

“No I didn’t. I think I’d remember if I resigned from the job I love.”

“But you love me more than that silly job though, don’t you, honey? You resigned so you could be with me. Live here and keep me company and have our babies.” He smiled at you. A smile you didn’t recognise on his face. Ducking under his arm you stomped across the room.

“I don’t know what type of joke you’re trying to make, Steve, but it’s not funny.

You started to make your way towards the door, but found yourself pulled to a stop by Steve’s arms wrapping around you. In other circumstances this would be wonderful, but with the way Steve was acting and things he was saying, you were entirely freaked out.

“Steve! Let me go! I’m not in the mood. I want to go home and I’ll speak to you later when you can be nice.”

You repressed a shiver as his face came down to your neck, his nose sliding up it, followed by his beard, that rasped and tickled over your sensitive skin.

“I am being nice, honey. And you don’t need to go anywhere. You are home.”

You tried to break out of his hold, but his arms were like steel bands around your frame.

“Steve! It’s not funny any more. I have work to do.”

He growled low in his throat, and you froze.

“I told you, you don’t have work any more. You might not have sent the letter, but I knew you wanted to be here with me. It was easy to get their address from your payslip when I picked up your mail. Told them you didn’t want to be contacted, and they just had to accept it.”

As his words settled in your brain, your struggles began anew, and with more vigour. Steve wasn’t just being strange, he was downright deluded! You kicked at his shins and tried to wriggle out of his grip, chanting “Let me go! Let me go!” But all Steve did was shush you, like you were a toddler having a tantrum.

“Shh, shh, honey. Don’t be like this. You accused me of not being nice, but what is this, huh?”

One of his large hands came up over your mouth, and he pinched your nose between his finger and thumb. Your eyes went wide with panic as your head started to swim.

“Calm down, doll. Take it easy. That’s it. That’s it. Sleep now.”

Your vision went spotty as your heels kicked ineffectually against him, your lungs burning as you started to run out of air. Then it all went dark.

Your body trembled, waves of pleasure running through you, despite the uncomfortable ache in your shoulders and arms. The ecstasy continued, and you whined, not knowing if you wanted it to stop or continue. It had been so long since you’d felt it and…

Your memory returned like a flood. Your eyes shot open to see Steve’s blue eyes looking up at you from between your legs, where he was feasting on your cunt, bringing you to your peak even as you lay unconscious. Those pools of ocean blue danced when he saw your awareness come back in, and he sucked harder, tipping your traitorous body back over the edge, moans leaving your mouth against your will.

As you came back down from your orgasm,and gained more control over yourself, you tried to shift, moving your legs up the bed and away from him, but a sudden twist caused pain to arch down your arm. That’s when you realised that both your upper limbs were bound above your head. You drew your gaze away from a grinning Steve - a Steve whose beard was soaked from your release - to peer up at how you were tied.

Shoelaces. Tied around your wrist, loose enough that they wouldn’t cut off your blood supply, but tight enough that you couldn’t slide your hand out unless you managed to dislocate both your thumbs.

Steve crawled up the bed slowly, but you couldn’t get away. He cupped your face and kissed you, your own scent filling your nose as he forced your mouth open and invaded you with his tongue. The denim of his jeans scraped your thighs, thighs that were sensitive and raw from the burn of his beard as he’d violated you.

“Hey, welcome back, honey. Sorry I started without you, but you looked so sweet, I couldn’t help myself. Been waiting a long time, ever since Wilson and Barnes told me that a beautiful young thing was interested in the property.”

Wilson and Barnes? That was the name of the realtor company that had brokered the sale of your cabin to you. How did Steve know them?

“My old friends knew exactly what I needed in my retirement. I spent so long saving the world - it owed me. And look… it gave me you, honey. And we’re going to be so happy. I know it. You just gotta let yourself get used to it.”

He was mad. Saving the world? What on earth did he mean?

“And when you’re ready, you can be Mrs. Rogers. Would you like that, sweetheart? How many ladies get the opportunity to get married to one Captain America, while another and the Winter Soldier act as witnesses.”

Rogers? How had you gone these last months without finding out his last name? Everything slotted together like a frightening puzzle in your mind. Why you’d felt so at ease with Steve when you’d first met him, why he seemed familiar despite having never met him. It was the beard - it had been enough to stop you instantly recognising America’s Golden Boy, thought dead after the final battle against Thanos. And Sam Wilson, the new Captain America had sanctioned - had assisted! - in this kidnapping, as a favour to his old comrade.

You heard the metal sound of Steve’s jeans zipper and it triggered your fight instinct.

“No! No! Get off! I don’t want this. I don’t want this!” You bucked your hips but only succeeded in rubbing your bare mound over Steve’s bulge, encased solely by his briefs.

Steve looked down at you with condescension.

“Honey, you’re too shocked by all this to know what you want, and I think you need to stop talking before you say something you’ll regret. Let me help you with that.”

He reached to the side, to a scrap of fabric lying near your feet. He enclosed it in his large hand and brought it up to his face, eyes closing as he took a long, indrawn breath through his nose. Part of the cloth poked out from between his fingers and you recognised it as your panties.

“Fuck! Now that you’re here I can smell this delicious scent whenever I want…” He opened his eyes and looked back down at you. “...and taste it too. But right now, I need you to understand that we belong together.”

With his free hand he squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, and even as you glared at him he pushed your panties into your mouth, then stroked the side of your face with the back of his knuckles

“There. You look so pretty, honey. Hope you’re ready? You’re gonna enjoy this - I know I will.”

You knew you should still be struggling, but as he pushed his jeans off and followed it quickly with his plaid shirt, part of you knew there was no point. He was too big. Too strong. Too determined. Any resistance would probably end up with you being hurt even more.

As Steve pulled down his briefs you turned your head away, a tear rolling down your cheek. It appeared that despite your best intentions, you’d been colour blind - mistaking the red flags for green.

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#roosminimarch #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #dark steve x you #dark steve rogers x you #dark steve x reader #dark fic #late writes

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lfc21 · 1 year

Text

The school run

Player: Trent Alexander Arnold

TW: Fluff, children

Prompt list: Children

Summary: Trent had finally got the chance to take his little girl to school and couldn't help but feel completely and utterly in love with her.

Trent didn't often have the privilege to take your daughter to school as he was often at the training ground or on his way to an away match. As much as you enjoyed spending some alone time in the morning with your daughter and enjoyed listening to her random stories and crazy dreams, you did sometimes wish Trent could also be a part of this.

"Why is it so early?" Trent asked as he jumped into the car and slammed the door shut. He had a travel coffee cup in one hand and his keys crushed into his other.

"You would be awake at this time even if you were going to training" You pointed out with a slight giggle at your husband's obvious dramatics.

"Actually babe that is where you are wrong" Trent started before taking a quick sip of his coffee. "I would still be in bed right now" He added as he pointed to the clock inside the car.

"Your lazy Daddy," Your daughter Zoe said from the bag of the car as she still held onto her small rabbit teddy since she had woken up. The car was filled with her little giggles as Trent tried to tickle her legs by reaching into the back for his little one.

"I'm not lazy" Trent pointed out as he sat back comfortably in the driver's seat before pulling out of your shared drive.

"Don't listen to him Zoe he is lazy" You stated clarifying every word whilst shooting her a wink. It was normal for Trent to spend the majority of his day being teased by you both. The idea of Trent having a daughter was something he couldn't wait to experience but now living in the moment he realised it was joking, teasing and a whole lot of glitter.

As soon as you arrived at school Zoe was far too excited to be able to show her father her school and all of her friends. Trent knew where she went to school, of course, he did but he also wanted to make sure her every wish was seen to. Both of your hands were holding each of her small palms as you all walked through the school gates being met by excited children and tired parents.

"Have you got your lunchbox?" You asked with a smile as you knelt to her height and pushed her lost hair away from her eyes.

"Yes, mummy" She politely replied with soft words and a toothy grin. Her hands were grasped on her school bag and her uniform made her seem like the sweetest angel alive.

"Your homework?" You asked again with a laugh as she had to cock her head to the side to remember.

"Yes mummy" She repeated highly and quickly due to her memories of her putting it into her bag came back to her. You smiled at her excitable expression as Trent stood behind her with his large hands resting on her fragile shoulders. No matter where the place Trent always found a reason to protect you and his little girl.

"Have a good day" Trent said as he leaned over his daughter and kissed her small cheek. He scuffed up her hair with a smile as she quickly fixed her little pink bow. You both waved her off as she skipped into school with a beaming smile. Trent took your hand in his and felt a feeling of pride knowing how much of a credit your daughter was.

"Y/n," Trent said trying to get your attention as you both crossed the busy road.

"Yeah, babe" You replied with a smile as you looked up at him with a smile and soft eyes.

"I want to do this more often" He explained with a smile as he wondered about all the incredible and sweet little moments he has missed. He loved seeing you all grow up but couldn't help but want his daughter to stay young forever.

Hey guys 👋🏻 this is my first Trent imagine from children prompt list 👶🏻 please leave feedback and requests as they are greatly appreciated 🥰 have a great day ❤️ masterlist 2022 💌 masterlist 2023 💌

@prettylittletrent @cornertakenquicklyyyy @trentalexanderarnold @robbo38 @robbothegoat @kostasstsimikass @chelseamount @chloereddy @tsimikasfamily @avenirdelight @blueathens @jordanhendersunshine @mrs-henderson @thatonesexycancerian @hendersons1truelover @nyctophilic0vitnir @peekapeaches @tsimikxs @tsimikostas @trentalexarnofan @leddows @moneymasnn @superkittywonderland @virgilvansike @virgilvandickmedown @hopefulromantic1 @robbo-trent-fanfiction26

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

Text

Indulgences

BTAA!Scarecrow x Female!Reader, word count: 4k commission: jonathan crane and secretary!reader give in to their mutual desires, which reader needs to be encouraged to partake in 🎃🧡 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: daddy kink, oral sex, rough sex, persistent behaviour

At least I don’t have to walk through any alleys. At least I get to stick to the busier streets, the nicer neighbourhoods. There’s an artisanal coffee shop on the way, not many people can say that. It’s fine, this is luck. You’re lucky to have this job. You’re lucky to have any job, really. But this one is perfect. It’s fine. You can do it. He doesn’t have any power over you. He’s your employer. He’s your boss. Yeah, he’s Jonathan Crane, but that doesn’t automatically give him a one-up. He likes you just as much as… it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you will not give in to this temptation.

Each morning, as you took the short trip to work from your apartment, you had to give yourself a pep talk. A reminder that this was worth it, in the long run. That you would be foolish, and quite frankly almost ignorant, to give up the comfort you managed to find, in Gotham of all places, because of some uncontrolled emotions. You had a job that provided enough money for you to afford a nice apartment in a nice area, that challenged you, but not too much, and brought you a genuine sense of value and worth. But it did mean you were exposed, almost daily, to the difficult charms of Jonathan Crane.

Working with Jonathan was a blessing and a curse. The security of employment with a reputable, at least society facing, psychologist was something that was rare in Gotham. Add to that the element of safety in being employed by one of the city’s more venerable and amicable villains, there was limited risk of being caught in the crossfire, unlike the employees of Sionis or Cobblepot. And he clearly trusted you, as he hadn’t been shy in telling you of his criminal escapades, his alter ego as The Scarecrow. In fact, you’d only been working with him for a month before he took you into his office and revealed the secret.

You supposed for someone like Jonathan, if he’d sensed even the slightest hint that you might not be one to trust, he would just have you killed. You’d thought as much at the time, as you stood, heart racing, swallowing your fear in your closed throat, sweat beading on your forehead. But the fear you had shown, it seemed to comfort him. Very on brand for that strange, yet deeply interesting, man.

Realising how silly you sounded, as you tried to quantify all of the thoughts in your mind, you stopped on the street corner across from the building which housed his office. You liked him. You really liked him. But it felt like a risk, or a mistake. Something about it seemed to suggest to you that it would only end in tears, or worse, in your demise. And it was this contradiction, this predicament, which made it so difficult for you to show up to work each day. Only worsened by the fact that you had begun to suspect that Jonathan had similar feelings for you.

He had always been flirtatious, part of his charm you guessed. He was like that with everyone. Little jokes, a lingering touch on the arm or the lower back. He’d frighten people, speaking soft and low, making them get closer to him before giving them a little jolt of fear. It usually had them giggling, sweating, confused. On several occasions he’d pointed that out to you, the line between fear and arousal. It all had to do with adrenaline, he’d say. And he was very right about that.

As you entered the office, you took your place at the desk in the waiting room. Checking the calendar, you realised it would be another two hours before the first patient arrived for their appointment. That gave you plenty of time to get comfortable and settled. But just as you began to repeat your affirmations, taking your slow, long breaths in a bid to calm your body, Jonathan entered.

“Ah, you’ve here. Always there to brighten my morning, huh?”

“Jonathan, lovely to see you. I’ve left coffee on your desk.”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest. Why don’t you come in and join me?”

“Is that… mandatory? Or work-related?”

Jonathan offered you a wry smile as he looked you up and down, scrutinising you.

“Would that make a difference? C’mon, we’re all friends here, right?”

You swallowed your nerves at his wink, trying to maintain your composure, the control you still had over the situation.

“I suspect that this might be more than a friendly discussion, Crane.”

“Oh! I do love it when you’re feisty in the morning.”

He walked into his office, still speaking to you.

“If you feel like joining me, make sure to bring that snarky attitude with you. Drives me crazy.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, picking up a pen and twirling it as you absent-mindedly stared at the wall in front of you. With an irritated mumble, you got up form your desk and followed Jonathan into his office, standing against the closed door and staring at him with your arms folded.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“I’m here now, what do you want with me?”

Jonathan let out a dry chuckle, as his pupils widened, staring at you from his desk.

“Oh, bit of a dangerous question, don’t you think? I could do a lot of psychoanalysing on that. The phrasing, the way you’re standing, the words you chose, the slight implied innuendo despite your obvious attempts to seem uninterested. All of it, very telling indeed.”

“Do you think so?”

“I know so. Why don’t you take a seat?”

“I’d rather stand, thanks.”

“A contrarian, through and through.”

“I’m really not.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, smiling wide as you proved his point. It infuriated you to no end that despite as hard as you tried to gain the upper-hand, he was always one-step above you.

“Fine, I’ll take a seat.”

You chose the softer of the two armchairs that faced his desk, avoiding eye contact with him until it was impossible to ignore the silence any longer. When you looked up to him, he caught your eyes, staring into them intensely. His stare held you, it was almost hypnotic. He was a commanding presence in your life, and you hated that as much as you enjoyed it. In moments like these it was difficult not to give in to your temptations. To succumb to the harmless but persistent flirting. To accept that you had a crush. Maybe get it out of your system even. But you sensed that someone like Jonathan Crane wasn’t up for being quickly used and discarded. He had to conquer his love interests, and you were determined not to let that be the case, despite how he made your heart beat faster and your body tremble with just a few innocent enough words.

From the drawer on his side of the desk, Jonathan produced a folder marked confidential, with your name on a label on the top right hand corner. He thumbed through the pages in silence as you sat nervously. You wondered what it could be. A dossier of reasons that he wanted to kill you? Or reasons he wanted to sleep with you? It could have been anything with him, and the anticipation only served to help you conjure up more fanatical and nerve-wracking theories.

Reading from the pages, he made an occasional soft noise, a small ‘hm’ or an ‘ah’ as he took in the information. Eventually, you grew more irritated than you were nervous, and coughed, clearing your throat obviously in the hopes that he would get whatever he intended to do over with.

Without looking to you, eyes remaining on the pages as he scanned them from top to bottom, reading whatever words were so intensely interesting to him, he finally.

“So… would you like a performance review?”

“A... a performance review? Are you kidding me?”

“No, why would I be?”

“That’s what you called me in here for?”

Jon smiled wryly as he peered over the top of the folder he held in his hands.

“Partly. I thought it would be a good idea to kill two birds with one stone. I love that phrase, don’t you? Such violent imagery. It conjures up such a guttural feeling. So… connected to our ancestry, and yet the convenience of modern life is hinted at to-”

“Jonathan. I have a job to do.”

“Uh-huh, and who provides you with that employment?”

Leaning back in your chair in slight disbelief, you narrowed your eyes at him as you spoke.

“Are you threatening me, Mister Crane?”

“Not at all, sugar. I’m simply… reinforcing the status quo here. The hierarchy. The way that our… relationship works. You’re my employee, after all. And I’m your boss, correct?”

With a scrutinising glance you tried to figure out what he was getting at, but couldn’t make it past his cool exterior.

“As technical as you can get, yes.”

“And yet, we’re also friends, are we not?”

“I suppose so.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling deeply complimented by the suggestion.

“You’re my employee, and my friend. But perhaps… maybe… I would like you to be a little more than that.”

“More…?”

“Oh, come on. As if you can’t see it, as if you don’t want the same things I do. As if we aren’t already something a little bit more than that.”

Trying to contain your smile, you feigned innocence, or ignorance, and looked up and to the right, as though you were trying to think of what he might be suggesting.

“Listen… we flirt. Constantly. I can see it, you can see it. Everyone can see it. I have clients who are so unaware that they don’t even recognise their mother is to blame for their issues, and even they can see it.”

“You talk about me with clients?”

“That’s besides the point. Look. We work great together.”

“Yes, in the same office.”

“Not like that, you know what I mean. You and I, we gel. We get on, we have a connection. I think we’d make an excellent pair, don’t you?”

Jonathan had stood up from his seat as he spoke, walking around the desk and stopping in front of it, where he leaned in repose on the surface when he had finished his argument in the little debate you two were caught up in.

“I want people to see us together, more obviously than they do now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want them to see you with me. I want them to know who you’re with.”

You kept your face still, not wanting to give anything away, but desperately wanting to scream at the concept he was offering you. You didn’t want to be owned by Jonathan, you didn’t want to make a big thing out of whatever you two might have. It seemed that he wanted the opposite though, and admittedly, his determination to have you, to possess you, like a trophy he could show off, was deeply intriguing and more than a little arousing.

“In a sense that…”

“In a sense that they wouldn’t dare try anything with you, because they knew who you belonged to.”

Trying to maintain your air of composure, your dignity in the face of potential ownership, you tilted your head and stared him down with an unamused look.

“Belonged to? So I not only work for you, but I’d be your property too? Sounds… unpleasant actually, Jon.”

He stood up from the desk and moved closer to you, his stance commanding, charisma oozing from his very being, his voice trance-like as he spoke to you so directly and convincingly.

“Come on now. We’re both intelligent people. We both know what’s going on here, what’s going on between us. It would be so easy to just admit it and let it happen. I don’t have a human resources department, so there’s no one to get on our case. What is it that you’re so worried about? What makes you so hesitant?”

He had answered his own question, really. Jonathan was so deeply, intensely interested in you, in everyone. He could learn more about you from the way you lifted a coffee cup than most people could in a decade of spending time with you. You could only imagine what information he might glean from fucking you. And then where would you be? You’d be employed by a psychotic psychiatrist who knew everything about you, that’s where. Only in Gotham.

“Just let go. Let yourself give in to pleasure. I promise, I’ll make it worth the risk of this little dalliance.”

His smug grin, pressed into his cheeks so firmly that it accentuated the wrinkles around his eyes had your chest heaving as you breathed heavily. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. It was tempting, so tempting. And though you were reluctant to give in to the feelings you held for him, it was deeply flattering, and very encouraging, to see him outwardly express those same desires.

It couldn’t possibly be as bad as I think it will be. I want this. I need this, I think. It’s gone beyond just a silly workplace crush, with witty remarks and back and forth flirtatious teasing. This is… something deeper now. And the longer I hold off, the worse it’s going to get. Perhaps it would be better to just get this out of my system. Do it now and get it over with. And then I’ll-

You were pulled out of your thoughts, ruminations and worries swirling at the forefront of your mind, by the feeling of Jonathan’s lips on yours, his hands holding your upper arms to keep you steady. The grip, forceful but deeply romantic, held within it the exact amount of passion, it turned out, to have you falling into him. Melting into the embrace, you wrapped your arms around his, feeling your leg beginning to snake up the back of his pants. He gripped it, fingers digging into your thighs and bringing it higher, around his waist, as he stepped forward, pushing you, stumbling, back into the wall where he deepened the kiss.

Biting, licking, sucking at your lips, Jonathan moaned hungrily against you. You yelped as he bit a little too hard, and he pulled back quickly, soothing over your bottom lip with his thumb and offering an apologetic smile.

“I’ve wanted this for a while. You’ve held out on me. So I apologise if I’m a bit… rough.”

His eyes moved from yours and began mapping out your body, taking in every inch of you.

“It’s been very difficult to watch you, a free agent, outside of my will.”

You scoffed, but took a sharp inhale as he stared into your eyes again, smiling at you, wry and mischievous.

“You’re so dead set on not indulging me. Why is that?”

Trying to avoid his intense gaze, you turned your face, but with a soft motion he brought you back around with his palm on your cheek.

“Is it because you’re ashamed of how much you want that? It’s ok to want to be wanted. It’s completely normal to want to be owned. I should know, I’m a psychologist, remember.”

He let his fingers trace down your throat, following their trail with his tongue as he made his way down your front with kisses, planting them softly, his breath warm against you, as he got to his knees before you, resting his face against your abdomen as he ran his hands up and down your sides.

“Every curve.”

His hands pressed into you, grabbing and squeezing at your body, your waist, your hips. As he let them reach behind you, cupping your ass, you let out of a soft noise, which made him smile.

“Every moan.”

You giggled as he made his way back up your body, bringing his hands to your face, fingers skating over your lips, making you shiver at the touch.

“And indeed, every quiver. They belong to me. And only me. Understand?”

Completely entranced by the way he held you, you nodded slowly but with enthusiasm.

Smiling at you, a grin that made your blood run cold, he leaned in to whisper into your ear once more.

“Then would you kindly lay down on my desk, please. And remove all the clothes on your bottom half first.”

As you stepped past him, pulling at your clothes in a hurry to get them off, his palm caught your rear, smacking the cheek and bringing forth an amused yelp and giggle from you. It made your cheeks flush, the way you had reacted. You hated how much you liked it. And he could tell, as he watched you lean back on the desk, bottom half completely nude and exposed. Running his palms up your thighs, past your stomach and to your neck, he loosened a few of the buttons on your shirt and kissed at your neck again.

Distracted by his moans and ministrations against your sensitive skin, you hadn’t even noticed he had removed his own pants and underwear until he was pressing his cock inside of you. You moaned, letting your breath out in a slow exhale as you smiled, unable to stop yourself. It felt amazing, better than you could have imagined or hoped. And you’d spent a lot of time hoping and imagining, though you wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone, even under threat of Jonathan’s fear inducing drugs.

Jonathan, enthused and encouraged by your reaction to his cock twitching and throbbing within you, began to rock his hips, pressing himself into you further, picking up the pace and grunting with each movement. At the angle you sat at, legs hanging over the edge of the desk, perched on your rear alone, he gripped your hips, holding you steady so he could push up into you, hitting the right spots as he did so. Occasionally, past the panting and guttural groans, you could hear him laughing. He was so smug, so proud of himself. So happy to be claiming you. The thought drove you wild, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer to you.

As Jonathan continued to fill you, pumping his substantial length inside of your cunt, pressing his tip as far as he could, he clutched at your back, holding you tight, close to him. In lustful desperation, you gripped his hair, drawing his mouth to your neck, begging him silently to ravish you, kiss you, bite you, suck you, whatever he was willing to do for you. And luckily, his participation extended to all three, as his teeth clenched softly on your neck, nipping at it before his tongue flitted over the stinging pain and soothed it, his lips enclosing around you, sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Ooh… Jonathan…”

“Sorry, was that too hard?”

The faux mocking tone sent a tingle down your spine, and you clung to him tighter out of instinct.

“Just… just a little bit…”

He leaned back for a second to offer you a sham pout followed by a cruel smirk.

“My most sincere apologies, I just wanted to make sure you were marked.”

Diving back into your neck, he bit harder this time, lips covering over the stinging pain in a smooth kiss.

“I can’t have any doubts as to who you belong to.”

His teeth marked your flesh, imprints of his bite pattern across your neck, soft ovals of burst blood vessels where had sucked on you, definitely leaving enough of a trace that it was impossible to deny that someone had claimed you. The notion of being entirely his was getting easier and easier to submit to with every passing second, and you could barely contain yourself. It didn’t surprise you at all when you started whispering to him, your own mouth ahead of your brain as you exposed your secrets and begged to be his.

“If you want me, Jonathan, then you can have me. Take me, fill me.”

With a struggled grunt he forced himself deeper, an action you would have thought impossible, and you could feel your abdomen tightening with the pressure of his cock buried so fully within you.

“I want you to make me yours, Jonathan. Mark me, inside and out.”

Jonathan’s breathing quickened, his pace getting faster and less steady as he rutted clumsily against you, hips jutting forth to meet yours as they rocked into his body. His grunting had been reduced to a whimper, almost a whine, as he clung to your skin, holding you as he used you, appreciated you.

“What do you want from me? Tell me. Don’t be shy.”

“I want you to cum inside of me. Paint my fucking insides, Jonathan. I want to be yours. Fill me, take me, just… please, god please don’t let me lose a single drop.”

With a guttural laugh and another quick bite at your collar bone, Jonathan’s body shuddered as he shifted you back and forth in time with his own thrusting, cock twitching as he felt himself coming undone. His seed spilled in thick, white ropes within your cunt, spent entirely within you and holding himself inside, pressed tight against you, to keep as much of him there as possible. He lingered for a few moments longer, enjoying the warmth, the possessiveness over you. His fingers tensed as they clung to your body. He didn’t want this moment to end, and neither did you.

Finally, pulling himself from within you with a low moan, he sat back down on his office chair, holding his slicked cock in his hands as he felt it softening, finally spent and relieved of the tension he had been holding back, that you both had been holding back. He panted slightly until he had caught his breath, his age showing in the way he braced himself, trying to recover from the shaking orgasm that had all but consumed him entirely.

“There… phew… no doubts now, huh?”

You were standing, trying to straighten your clothes out as best as you could, feeling his cum dribbling down your inner thigh and coating your panties. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, knowing you belonged to him, feeling like you were still marked as his territory, his possession, even after he was no longer holding you physically. You had to admit that it was divine, something you had craved before but never would have let yourself admit to.

“Doubts? About what?”

Jonathan leant his head back, groaning in mock frustration before he snapped back down, eyes focused on your body, his gaze drawing up over you and back down as he took you in, still flushed and sweating, marked by his teeth and his fingers.

“Oh, sugar. Don’t be obtuse. It’s no use, I know you’re a sharp girl.”

Playing up, just to irritate him, you stared blankly with a slight frown. You shrugged your shoulders lightly and shook your head a little.

“You wanted that. I wanted that. And I continue to want that. As, I expect, do you. I think we can both feel the tension around us, around the office. So let’s not beat around the bush here!”

He laughed as he spoke in a lilting cadence, trying to seem casual. But you could sense the desperation in his words. And you finally felt like you had the upper-hand.

“We’ll see, Jonathan.”

You walked towards the door, turning as you opened it and stepped back into the hallway.

“We’ll see.”

Leaving him alone in his office, you returned to your desk with a wide grin on your lips. Finally, you felt like you could let yourself indulge in your desires. But not before you teased Jonathan a little longer. He deserved it, after all. And you deserved to feel in control, after everything you put up with from him. A little bit of sweet and sour in your relationship wasn’t anything new, but the method in which it was employed, a change in pace and hierarchy, it made you feel excited to come into work tomorrow.

#finnie writes #batman #scarecrow #jonathan crane #scarecrow imagine #scarecrow smut #scarecrow x reader #rogues gallery #batman rogues #btaa scarecrow

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nowiamcoveredinyou · 4 months

Note

Hello! May I request 3+26 from the indulgence list for Sherlock?

"Rule my heart"

Sherlock x reader

Warnings:- age gap!

Word count:- 2257

A/n:- your request was interesting. I enjoyed writing it. I hope you like it too💗. Also I included cricket (again) can't help but push my favourite sport everywhere I get the chance too.

Prompt list !

"I know darling" I answered on my phone as I sat at the dining table with my breakfast. It's my ultimate routine to call my boyfriend in the morning, before he's out for office and with all the "love you", "you're mine", "darling" he says another thing everyday "your roommate is really good with the violin". Which is the utmost truth of all. While I call my boyfriend Lucas, my roommate Mr Sherlock Holmes spends time with his violin. The wise detective of Baker Street, cold to everyone, only we his friends know what a warm heart he has got. Friend I say, however in my heart I know, he's more to me, have always been. Yet he's fifteen years older than me, perhaps he wouldn't find such a younger girl like me to be his companion, partner... Let alone wife. I am a believer of marriage so it was better for me and him to go as we can, Lucas is my chance to have the dream marriage I want. He's almost my age, three years older, perfect husband material, caring and funny, but then Sherlock is also funny, caring, protective of me. That's where I get stuck everytime, every good thing I find in Lucas, is good to me because it's present in my roommate.

"Your roommate... Is he alright?" Came from the other end of the phone, I was brought back from my train of thoughts.

"Huh.. wh-what? Sherlock? He seems fine, I guess" I replied.

"His music... It isn't... Like everyday" he said, that's when I observed yes, he seems to be unable to concentrate. He's getting stuck, repeating, making mistakes, unlike other days flawless music. Even if sometimes he makes mistakes he handles them well, well enough for no one to know. He'd come to me later and confess, "remember during the time of the music of that note, I hit a wrong note, I hope no one realised".

It was surprising to listen to him today, "might be a stressful case Lucas" I replied.

"Hmm.. perhaps, anyway gotta go" saying so we hung up with a "love you" to eachother. After the call I called my roommate, "Sherlock, come and have your breakfast".

He hummed which was almost inaudible, but the sound of him putting down his violin confirmed he's on his way, he has to be reminded all the time to eat. He came and sat on the chair obediently.

"What was up with your violin Sherlock?" I asked pouring him his tea.

"It was awful wasn't it?" He replied softly taking a biscuit and dipping in his tea.

"No" I said laughing softly to make him feel less bad for the... Well, bizzare tune today, "it happens when you're anxious, stressed, hard to control the stressful thoughts." I stated my reasoning, "I understand it... Entirely."

He stared at me, wonder what was so thrilling in me munching my biscuit.

"You said you're dumb" he said.

"Am I not? I think I am" I replied sipping my tea.

"You deduced me, me!" He emphasised the word 'me' "and you say you're dumb?"

"Well, this was easy perhaps" I said giggling like an idiot because I loved the compliment coming from the wisest man in, I dare say, the whole country.

"Wish you saw yourself the way I do" said he and sipped all his tea at once, like what I did.

"You're stressed then ? Work pressure?" I asked, playing with the handle of my cup, admiring his matured features, matured frown, may I say matured immaturity too?

"Not exactly" he said, thinking, "it's... I'm not sure actually." He tried to come up with an answer. I always wrap my arms around his neck when he's upset, or stressed. I love it because I love him, who cares for me, brings me my favourite junk food and holds my hand while walking. Lucas does so, sometimes, doesn't feel the same though.

I got up and wrapped my arms around his neck, "aww, you'll be fine" I said leaning on his head, which was a successful attempt of making him laugh.

"You know how to make me laugh don't you?" He said caressing the back of my palm.

"Seems like I do Sherlock." I said, with no hurry to let go off him.

Our moments of silence is even comfortable than any useless chatting. Eventhough I'm the chatter in the house and he's the Listener. I wonder why can't I feel this sort of comfort with Lucas? He's nice... I guess, a bit "don't do that, don't do this, your books are boring, read mine" but that's okay.

"Lucas gets the same affection from you, lucky guy" his voice broke the silence.

"But you do too" I replied, only if you knew I would love to give all of my affection to you, but you're older and perhaps I'm too young for you, you don't have any romantic feelings for any woman you met, some of them are beautiful, same age, smart, even his friend Molly is also smart. Why would you think of me if they can't win you.

"He'll get all, for all his life" he said. Yes because... I can't believe I'm actually marrying Lucas, so perhaps that makes me his fiance.

"You'll attend it okay" I said letting go off him, the thought of marrying Lucas was... Well... Overwhelming.

"You know my thoughts on m-marriages" he replied taking his cup to the sink. And ofcourse I do, that's why I have to try to love someone. Because you... You... Nevermind.

"It'd just make me happy to have my fr-friend" the word stuck, friend?

"Friend" he said washing his cup, when did he learn all these? Oh wait he always does the dishes, since I came because he thinks I'm too young for it, even for doing the dishes... Forget about love.

"Yes friend " I replied "My friend... You ... To be a part of this joyous event."

He nodded, he agreed I hoped. Later that evening Lucas took me to a cafe, he talked about himself all the time, he's a fine looking guy and I've always dreamt myself with such a guy, but all the time I was with him I thought of Sherlock. Later as I came home I found the flat... Messy. Scattered papers, test tubes here and there and the detective smoking?

"Sherlock!" I furiously entered and took away the ciggerate, "you promised me not to ever smoke."

"I'm sorry " he said raising himself a bit, "I couldn't control."

"Please don't tell me you took... Those things that you used to take" the thought of him being a junkie again horrified me.

"I didn't" he said.

"What happened to you today?" I can't help but yell, it's hard to see the man child, the beautiful man like this, "why are you acting like this?"

"Nevermind" he said, "how was the date with Lucas?"

His cross question infuriated me. I couldn't help but let my eyes get teary, couldn't help any longer but speak the truth, "awful".

To this he looked concerned, he stood up from his chair and came a few steps toward me,

"Have always been like this, forced, awful, ridiculous to even try to love him".

The tears of rage fell and he, I bet never saw me like this, yes he's calmed me down from exam frustration, work stress, family fights but this..."couldn't you deduce I'm not happy with him?"

He stayed quite, just pulled me to him, cupped my cheeks and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes wondering, perhaps I'm just a platonic adorable friend, otherwise those lips would've touched my lips.

"Lucas is a bit self absorbed." He said.

I stared at him, he knew?

"You knew it? He's not... Why didn't you say me?"

"Because he's exactly the kind of guy you like, remember when you came to my flat first time, and we started talking, you turned the TV on and watched cricket, that became our favourite 'us time', I learnt the whole sports from you-"

"Yet can't tell if it's a run out before the DRS" I interrupted and that made him giggle a bit.

"Guess that's a bit... Left to learn" he had difficulty to form sentences, "you told me about your favourite cricketer and every guy you had a crush on? Dated? I saw a pattern there, they looks similar with beard and specs, young, handsome, Lucas is all that. I thought you were happy to get to marry such a guy".

"Oh yeah" I said with a mocking laugh, not directed to him but my said thought,

"I assumed the same" gained some strength to finally say, "but he doesn't love me the way y.."

I stopped myself before I said too much.

"Is there a particular way to love?" Asked the detective.

"Oh?" He? He's talking of love? "What do you even know of love?"

He was taken aback, he's perhaps never seen me acting like this to him yet he replied, "to care for, to adore, to respect, wanting to be close to the person, to give her all she'll ever want, to ..." He smiled as he thought of more points this time, "listen to her.. nonsense in her words, to see her childlike amazement hearing and seeing my adventures, her.. leaning on my chest while I caress her, I think to me that's love."

I stayed quiet, because that's all me, we do such stuffs.

"And I think love is simple, joyous, intimate, and another word that you say alot...cute" he said "I am not such a man, to do all these things, to love someone... cutely, I'm a cold detective who abhors romance, I'm not the romantic type and -"

"But all the things you said is love.." I interrupted, "you and I... We.."

He was stunned perhaps, he thought and said, "I... "

He couldn't yet believe, he actually,

"you love me? You said all those stuffs remembering us Sherlock?"

Sherlock was still thinking... Is he confused about how he feels or...

"Yes ... Oh my... Yes" he said with utter excitement, pacing around the floor, "I love you... Alot... Alot... You didn't know? Come on! You're smarter than that. You knew it."

"I never ... I thought I'm too young for you"

"Or I... Too old for you?"

"Never, I love you, have always loved you." I said as I ran to embrace him. He hugged me back tightly, and we both cried in joy. But...

"I'm engaged Sherlock " I said and his grip around me loosened.

"Your hand may be promised to him, you may marry him, doesn't change the fact that I love you and-" he stopped but his grip got tighter. I thought he was nervous of his vulnerability so I said,

"And I love you, I worried about our age gap, yes you're different than my type but I love you, I can't pretend anymore, truth is I don't love Lucas " I thought he'd say something but to our horror a third voice uttered,

"It was all a joke then" Sherlock... That's why he stopped and hugged me tightly, this time I turned,

"Lucas!" He was at the door, "wha-what are you doing here?"

"I see" he said, "not a good timing, my father thought you'd love these pastries, white forests so he..."

"She hates that pastry, black forest... That's what she likes" Sherlock clarified, and he was right, "still don't know her likes and dislikes, was about to Marry her?"

"How will he?" I said before Lucas could, "he only talks, never listens or observes."

"Cheated on me" he said, "now being a big mouth".

"She never did, I.. we never did" said Sherlock, "until tonight we never thought the other loved us".

"Lucas" I went to him, whatever he is, he was my boyfriend and I too feel guilty for loving someone else pretending when it's him, "I'm sorry, I... We are sorry, we love eachother."

"He's older...alot older than you" Lucas said.

"I don't care" I replied.

"Neither do I" Sherlock said.

Lucas looked at us, fuming and with a nod he left. We stood quietly not knowing what to say until I said,

"You listened to your heart?"

"Right time, right situation, right person... Makes you listen to it... The heart" answered Sherlock that made us, both giggle.

The day Lucas and I was to get married, I did get married infact but to Sherlock. That day he didn't acted like himself, he confessed because it was hard to keep all the love he had for me in his heart. And here we are... The ones that are supposed to be. And age gap? Barely matters doesn't it? Especially when your man says on the wedding day, "look I never trusted anyone with my heart. And here... I give you the power to save it, to break it, to heal it. You can do any of these or all three for I don't care as much as you rule my heart. Even getting Hurt from you, even, is my pride."

P.s.:- I'm making a tag list! If anyone wants to be included do let me know in the comments.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock fanfic #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x reader

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noforkingclue · 2 years

Note

Saw your requests are open and also that you reblogged this, so can I request 26) Because you fell asleep on my shoulder, and I carried you to bed with Tommy please?? ☺️

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like it :D

Prompt list: list

Title: What is Missing

Peaky Blinders tag list: @stylesofloki, @ohshititsfenharel, @lenaskyler02

Thomas Shelby tag list: @alreadybroken-ts, @darlingdevil, @lyrxbz, @watercolorskyy

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You groaned softly as the morning light streamed through the crack in the window. You were never a morning person and the slight chill in the autumn morning air didn’t help. All you wanted to do was spend the morning in bed, curled up to the warm person next to you.

Wait.

In a flash you were wide awake. You sat bolt upright and pulled the covers up against your chest. You don’t remember drinking last night and your lack of hangover seemed to prove that you weren’t drunk. However, and much to your surprise, you found that you were still wearing the same clothes as last night. Your shoes were lying across the room, clearly kicked off, which only left one question on your mind-

“Good morning, love. Sleep well?”

“Tommy?” you could feel your face get warm, “What are you doing in my bed?”

Tommy sat up, the covers falling away from his chest. You quickly looked away when you realised that the top couple of buttons on his shirt were undone. Fuck, you hadn’t realised you went to bed with Tommy. Ada, who almost certainly would know by now, was not going to let you hear the end of this.

“So,” you asked trying to hold yourself together, “What are you doing in my bed? I’m sure you have a perfectly decent one of your own.”

“Because,” Tommy swung his legs out of bed and started doing up the buttons on his shirt, “Because you fell asleep on my shoulder, and I carried you to bed.”

“And that meant you had to sleep in mine.”

“Your arms were around my neck,” he said with a smile, “And you refused to let go. The choice was sleep here or be forced to wake you. Ada told me that you haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“I didn’t realise you were such a gentleman.”

“I have my moments.”

“Good to know.”

“Is it?”

“I hate for people to be boring. I like to be kept on my toes.”

Tommy let out a chuckle as he stood up. He walked over so he was standing right in front of you. You had let the blankets fall so that they had pooled around your waist.

“I have never been described as boring before.”

“There’s a first time for anything.”

The corners of Tommy’s lips twitched in amusement. He raised his hand and brushed his knuckles gently against your cheek.

“I do have a perfectly decent bed,” he said, repeating your words, “Well almost. There is one thing missing from it.”

“And that is?”

“You.”

#fanfiction #Peaky Blinders #reader insert #request #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x reader

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winchesterszvonecek · 8 months

Note

random dialogue prompts #38

for adam ross please! there’s a severe lack of adam content out there

Random Dialogue - [ Adam Ross ]

Prompt: “You’re such a dork.” “Yeah, no wonder you’re so in love with me.”

Word Count: 707

Warnings: female!reader, fluff

A/N: idk if there’s much of an audience for adam out there but i love him so thank you to whoever suggested this! i hope you like it and i hope there’s others out there who do too

shoutout to @dumplingsjinson for the prompt list

Masterlist | Adam Masterlist

Waiting for test results was always slow and boring. There wasn’t much to do but stare at the screen and hope it went faster so you’d get the team one step closer to finding their killer, but unfortunately for all of you, these things took time. And a lot of it.

You couldn’t even do anything else whilst you waited as all your open case files were stuck in the waiting period as well. Same with Adam who was currently spinning in circles in front of his own screen, telling you facts about penguins of all things. You didn’t know exactly how the topic went from dirt trace found at the crime scene to penguins, but you weren’t exactly complaining.

You always loved hearing him ramble on about things that made him happy and if penguins happened to do that, then let’s just say you’d be stopping off at the store on your way home to buy him a stuffed one.

“And did you know that penguins adapted to fly underwater…” Adam continued, his chair squeaking quietly beneath him as he spun in slow circles. “I mean how crazy is that? Flying underwater?”

“That is crazy.” You replied softly, unable to help but smile at him as you leaned against your table, your chin propped up on your closed fist as you stared at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes.

“Right? See, most birds have these hollow, air-filled bones to help them stay light for flying. But penguins, they naturally adapted to have solid bones instead, that way it makes it easier for them to swim and they don’t just float up to the surface again.” He finished with a little wiggle of his hand through the air, as though mimicking that of a penguin floating to the surface of the ocean.

You chuckled softly to yourself, shaking your head a little as you couldn’t believe just how many strange, yet interesting, facts swam about inside his head. Ones that he often passed on to you and that you even found yourself repeating to others without realising.

You’ll never forget the day you ended up in the elevator with Mac and began to tell him all about the difference between brown bear fur and polar bear fur. He’d only said good morning to you, yet he got a lot more than he bargained for when you opened your mouth. Not to mention when the elevator came to a stop and he simply said ‘you’re spending too much time with Adam’ before walking away, leaving you drowning in embarrassment as your relationship with Adam had been on the down low back then… Or so you both thought.

But now that you were both out to the world officially, you simply didn’t care if people told you that you were spending too much time with Adam, because if you could, then you’d spend every single waking moment of your time listening to him talk.

“You’re such a dork.” You breathed out, a soft laugh mixed in there somewhere as you straightened from your slouched position. You could see how Adam blushed a little and you heard his own, little, awkward chuckle escape his lips as he realised he’d been rambling.

But he also knew you loved it when he would talk about complete and utter nonsense when you were both waiting on test results, as, like you’d told him many times when he apologised for doing so, it made the long wait that little bit less boring.

“Yeah, no wonder you’re so in love with me.” He exhaled as he stretched his arms over his head, unaware that you’d gotten to your feet and were currently making your way over to his little corner of the lab.

It wasn’t until he felt your hands land on his shoulders did he know you’d moved, and when you placed a sweet, gentle kiss on his cheek, just above the lining of his beard, he couldn’t help but smile. And it was a smile that grew just that little bit more when your next words reached his ears.

“You got that right.” You whispered, placing another soft kiss on his cheek. “I am so madly in love with you.”

Prompt List

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#csi new york #csi ny #adam ross csi ny #adam ross csi new york #adam ross oneshot #adam ross csi #adam ross fanfiction #csi new york oneshot #csi ny oneshot #csi x reader #csi ny x reader #csi new york x reader #x reader #reader insert #zvonecekotis #adam ross

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daydreamgoddess14 · 8 months

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Sing Your Own Kind of Song

Tedbecca Prompt Party 🥳

Ted Lasso / Rebecca Welton

No. 75: Soulmate AU - When you get a song stuck in your head, it’s because your soulmate is singing it. Who's singing what at Nelson Road?

~~~~~~~

Ted woke up to Aretha Franklin's RESPECT stuck in his head. He put up with it all day, even had Beard raising an eyebrow when he sang it during the morning meeting, which elicited a giggle from Rebecca.

"Alright, Ted?" She asked,

"Just heard it on the radio this morning, that's all boss." He smiled reassuringly.

"Have you heard about this soulmate rubbish they've confirmed on the news?"

"That you're hearing whatever your soulmate is singin'? Sure did, Gigi Hadid. That's some interesting barbecue sauce right there."

"Isn't it just?" Rebecca mused.

"You believe it, boss?"

"Not quite sure what I believe yet, Ted. Guess I'll see how it all pans out."

"I hear ya, if it's good, then you can say you knew all along, and if it's a steaming pile of doggy poop then you don't lose face either."

"You know me so well, Ted."

"Time to get downstairs for training. I'll see you later?"

"Thanks, Ted. Have a good morning." Down on the pitch a short time later, Aretha was replaced by ABBA. When he cooked dinner that night, it was Diana Ross and the Supremes. When he brushed his teeth before bed, it was One Direction. He tried to counteract it by ignoring the song in his head and sticking with his personal favourite, Kenny Rogers, in the hope that this madness would all blow over.

He lasted a month. During that time, there were new romances popping up everywhere. Roy only needed Taylor Swift stuck in his head for a morning to realise Keeley had been singing in the car on the way to work. Likewise, he'd been to see the latest Top Gun movie the previous night with Jamie, Isaac, and Moe, and had woken up singing 'Highway to the Danger Zone'. Keeley thought she might have some detective work to do, but Taylor Swift had done her a solid when she overheard Roy humming Wildest Dreams. They'd been inseparable ever since. There were breakups, too - Beard and Jane had not been on the same page at all, and while Beard wanted to keep trying, Jane did not. Ted was stumped, though. Whoever his mystery singer was, they were an enigma. Songs ranged from power ballads to current pop, and from obscure TV theme tunes he did not recognise - what the heck was Bullseye?! - to showtunes. He was at a loss.

Weeks went by, and Rebecca grew impatient. Her secret soulmate was predictable. It had only taken her a couple of weeks to work out that it was Ted. He listened to a lot of the same artists on repeat, Kenny Rogers, Bruce Springsteen, Dolly Parton and more country music than she even knew existed. Dolly had given her the inspiration to accelerate her plan. She'd spent the time since weighing up whether she believed it or not. She told no one and instead set out on a little game. Each morning, she'd pick a random song or theme tune to sing - trying to get more and more random and wild each day. In return, Ted had been keeping a log - looking for any kind of pattern or consistency. He found nothing. Whoever his soulmate was, they had the most varied tastes. One morning, he wakes with an unfamiliar tune in his head. He can't place it, it's repetitive and sounds like it should be known to him, but he's none the wiser. When Nate whips out his phone to show Ted a clip of the football from the previous night's TV, the tune accompanies the clip.

"Nate, what's that?"

"It's a clip of Sam's goal from a different angle?"

"No, the tune?"

"Match of the Day? You've been here 3 years, and you don't know the tune to Match of the Day?"

"I watch Sky Sports." Ted shrugged. "Anyway, Match of the Day is popular?"

"It's been a staple of British TV for years." Ted mulled over what he'd learned and consulted his notebook where he'd listed weeks of songs. Adele, Whitney, Shania, showtune after showtune… whoever they were, they liked a strong voice. Then he spotted the little outliers… Geri, Mel C, Posh… they'd snuck the Spice Girls in there individually. This, combined with the Match of the Day theme, had him barrelling out of the office and up the stairs two at a time. He burst through Rebecca's open door to see her at her laptop writing an email and softly singing the Match of the Day theme.

"It's you," he said without saying hello.

"Took you long enough." She smiled.

FIN

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #tedbecca #rebecca x ted #ted and rebecca #ted x rebecca #tedbecca fluff #tedbecca prompt party

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 1 year

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Tree - Ray Toro x Reader

Prompt: T: Tree (How do they decorate their tree?) (from this list) Reader: can be read as any gender (no pronouns used) Word Count: 1 293 Warnings: I just read this again and it’s really, really sweet, sickeningly. Also: if you want tomorrow’s story to hit even harder, please pay attention to how easily Ray and Reader communicate their feelings. This has been a warning.

You knew Ray was full of surprises, but nothing could have prepared you for how important it was to him to decorate the Christmas tree together. The two of you had been dating for not even a year, making this your first Christmas together, and a few months ago, you had moved in with him. It had been a decision some of your friends had called rushed, but it was way cheaper than your flat, Ray had offered, and secretly neither of you felt all too keen on spending the precious spare time you had with getting from one apartment to the other. Even though it had been a bit scary, the usual anxieties taking over like whether you would be able to stand sharing a living space with each other, how your daily routines would clash and so on, living with Ray had been as good as perfect, and you did not regret your choice for one second.

It was a Sunday morning in early december, when the sound of a crash woke you up. Irritated, you sat up, blinking into the twilight of the room. The bed beside you was empty, and a second crash, followed by muffled cursing made you suspect Ray was already up and about.

Slipping out of bed and grabbing one of Ray’s hoodies from where it hung over a chair, slipping it on, you poked your head out of the bedroom door. The continuing noise of clattering mixed with quiet cursing, originated in the living room, and once you pushed the door open far enough to see inside, you were no longer surprised as to why Ray was swearing. But you were surprised at the sight before you.

It seemed definitely impossible, but Ray had managed to carry a Christmas tree inside, which was almost as tall as the ceiling was high. All by himself. Right now he was struggling to keep the tree in its stand, every time it threatened to tilt, a new curse quietly falling off his lips.

Once you had overcome your initial surprise at the huge tree in the middle of the living room, you ran over to Ray, quickly grabbing the tree that seemed on its best way to fall on top of your boyfriend.

“Which way do you need me to tilt the tree,” you asked, glancing down at Ray who was crouched on the ground. His hair was dishevelled and from his body language alone you could tell he was focusing.

Through hesitating comments Ray wished you a good morning, and just a few minutes later, the tree stood safe and tall, its top twig almost scratching the ceiling.

Standing side by side with Ray, you inspected your work. You couldn’t help but feel like you imagined these children in the picture books to feel at the sight of such a huge tree. Respect, awe, but also giddy.

“Good morning, again,” Ray whispered, sneaking his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a short kiss.

You repeated the words against his lips before he pulled away. Only now you properly realised, that he was still wearing his winter jacket, and on the sofa lay his hat.

“How about you make us some hot chocolate and I go fetch the decorations,” Ray suggested.

“Don’t you want to have breakfast first,” you asked, confused, but he shook his head.

“We’re gonna have a Christmas Tree decorating breakfast. With hot chocolate and cookies… If that’s okay for you?”

Even if he had not asked, you would not have refused his wish. Something in his voice made it very clear how important this was to him. Not important because he wanted to do it, but because it meant something to him emotionally. You were not entirely sure what it was, but the thought of rejecting his wish would have felt equal to breaking his heart. Besides: Christmas Tree decorating breakfast sounded pretty awesome.

While you made hot chocolate in the kitchen, Ray carried the decorations into the living room. It seemed the stuff he owned was mostly classical red and gold, baubles in those colours, a few wooden figurines. And a tiny spider man bauble. When you spotted it, it made you laugh, but you figured it would have been unlike Ray if not a little joke like that would have been hidden somewhere.

Ray also seemed to have bought gingerbread, because when you carried the cups into the living room, the box was ripped open, and he had placed a few gingerbreads on plates for both of you.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Ray had put on some Christmas music, not the modern one, but old orchestra music, now playing from vinyl. While you put up the baubles, you always took a sip of hot chocolate in between or a bite from the gingerbread. Although a lot of the time also was used by Ray to pull you in for sweet kisses. In fact it seemed like he always tried to keep a hand at you, on your waist, your hand, your forearm…

The gestures made your heart dance, and you were absolutely certain this had to be the most romantic Christmas Tree decorating anyone had ever done.

Once you were finished, you sat on the sofa, looking at the now sparkling tree. Ray had strung Christmas lights with tiny bulbs into the twigs, and now that they were turned on, they looked like hundreds of small fairies making the tree glow.

Your head was resting against Ray’s chest, the two of you cuddled together on the sofa, as your eyes were fixed on the tree, the cups, long empt, standing on the side table.

“I’ve always dreamt about decorating the tree like this,” Ray whispered, breaking the comfortable silence.

Questioningly you tilted your head to look at him.

“Back at home it was always fun, but also loud and we would constantly bicker about what should go up on the tree and what else we needed to buy and whatnot…”

By the way he trailed off, you could tell there was more to the story. Encouragingly you ran your fingers in uneven patterns over his shirt.

“And then when I was living on my own, I saw all these couples who always celebrated Christmas together, while I was alone, or on tour, and… it sounds pitiful, but I just wondered if I'd ever have something like that. So I wanted this to be fun today.”

“It’s not pitiful,” you disagreed. “It’s understandable. I definitely felt the same, you know? I think everybody feels that way sometimes. But-,” you leant up, so you could take a better look at Ray’s face, “I think today was the most magical, most christmas-y, most romantic morning i ever could have imagined. And I feel very happy and very privileged to have spent it with you. Thank you.”

Leaning down to him, you sweetly kissed his lips, feeling as his eyes fluttered shut and he released a shaky breath. Knowing that even after months of dating he still reacted like this sometimes to something as simple as a short peck on the lips, made your heart dance happily.

“You know that I love you, right,” Ray asked, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you back on top of him. “So much.”

Burying your nose against his neck, his long hair brushing over your face, you nodded. “I love you, too. So much.”

And while the lights on the christmas tree continued sparkling, specks of red and gold dancing through the living room where the lights reflected off the baubles, Spider Man keeping watch over the tree from a high twig, you slowly dozed off in Ray’s arms.

@alexstyx @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore @omgsuperstarg @fivelegance @deadlovers @casmustdiee @cmtryghoul

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invisible-brandy · 7 months

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OC-tober: getting ready for a formal event

Using @icannotreadcursive 's prompt list

Felix takes Scott to one of the dinners his boss hosts. It, apparently, warrants a new suit.

“The fact that you’re insisting on getting me a whole new suit for this makes me nervous,” Scott wrapped his arms around Felix, pushing his face into the crook of his neck.

Felix didn’t even open his eyes, but put another spoonful of cereal into his mouth without spilling it all over himself.

“Deadly aim as always,” Scott snorted, peeling himself off his boyfriend and going to pour them coffee. “Are none of the suits I have fit for this sort of dinner?”

“Uh,” Felix managed to crack open his eyes at the smell of caffeine. “They’re nice suits. But we need something, y’know, out there.”

“An astronaut suit?” Scott joked. Felix shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“You’ll see,” he promised.

It wasn’t an astronaut suit, but it sure was a lot.

“I thought you meant buy and then tailor a new suit. Not have someone make one from scratch,” Scott politely hissed into Felix’s ear, linking their arms together. The amount of money Felix was casually spending on him always put him on edge.

“But Angel is really good,” Felix murmured back. “Relax your jaw before you cut someone with it, darling.”

The woman behind the counter yawned and pushed her roughly cut bangs out of her eyes. Scott’s gaze unwittingly stopped on the scars around her eyes.

“They’ll be down in a second,” she said, putting her elbows on the counter top. “Not a morning person,” she blinked tiredly. “Me neither.”

“Oh, I understand,” Felix chuckled. “Thank you for fitting us in today, Seraph.”

“No problem.” She straightened and stretched, and Scott promptly realised where he had seen her. She’s been in those old pictures Felix had in his office; the same ones he said he really needed to burn but couldn’t bring himself to. ‘Not too big of a risk’, he said about them.

Interrupting Scott’s train of thought, a rumble came from upstairs. Seraph looked up, paused, then yelled at the top of her lungs, “Angel?”

“Coming! Sorry!”

The repeating ‘sorry’-s gotten louder as Angel got closer. Their hair was in complete disarray, but their long, fitted waistcoat was neatly buttoned, and the white shirt under it didn’t have a single wrinkle.

“Hi!” Angel grinned and Scott got a feeling that he was in for a ride.

***

Because Felix had sent some of the measurements beforehand, Angel already had the top part of the suit ready – or almost ready, like they said. Felix was waiting outside of the fitting room, while Scott was listening to Angel chat about the process of creating the design. It didn't seem like they needed much encouragement or questions, so he just paid attention. It was in all seriousness a fascinating trade.

Angel spinned Scott around a bit after he put on the black dress shirt. Then again, with the waistcoat and jacket on. They've only put in a couple pins, muttering something entirely to themselves now.

In Scott's opinion, the suit already fit him better than any of the ones he owned. But then again, he never had anyone make clothes specifically for him.

"How do you feel?" Angel asked, pushing some obscured button and moving the mirror in front of him with a mechanical snap.

"Great," Scott straightened up, taking in the sight. "The embroidery on this is amazing."

"Thanks," Angel's wrists flapped around briefly. "Do you mind if I show this off to Seraphina?" they asked, straightening up and dropping the measuring tape. "Felix said he doesn't want to spoil it for himself until it's fully ready, but-"

"Yeah!" Scott nodded. "It looks great and probably took an insane amount of work, go brag!"

Angel tilted their head, studying Scott for a brief moment. Then, they stuck their head out into the hallway, yelling for Seraph.

Scott huffed, amused. The decor of this house and the clothes on Angel gave off such an expensive, posh impression at first, it really fucked with Scott's brain. But now, he was slowly starting to relax.

He turned back to the mirror, running a tip of his finger against the embroidery of the golden wyvern on the left side of the jacket. It was surrounded with swirls of flames and vines, the spiny tail of the creature curling over his sleeve.

"Okay, okay, I'm here," Seraph pushed through the door, slamming it hard enough that the stained glass in it shook a little. "Wow," she stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Scott's suit. "Subtle much?" she laughed, turning to Angel.

"I thought he would appreciate it," Angel shrugged.

Scott frowned in confusion.

“Who would?”

“Uhh,” Seraph picked at a hole in her sleeve. In contrast with Angel, she looked even more unkempt, which strangely, made Scott trust her more. “Ask your boyfriend, I’m not qualified to answer this.”

“Alright then,” Scott raised an eyebrow but Seraph was already out of the room. Hurriedly, she peeked back in and smiled at Angel. “Great job, bud.”

#my mental dolls #oc: scott #oc: felix #oc: angel #oc: seraph #i gen didnt mean to get angel in here again can she like give some space to other characters bestie i love you but please #also since this is from scotts perspective only they/them is used for angel since strangers are only allowed that #creative writing #my writing #writing

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onthecuterside · 2 years

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BTS English songs

Bad Decisions prompted folks to rank their English releases/collabs yesterday.

I was going to reply off the cuff but decided to actually make a playlist on repeat and give them the attention they deserved. The results surprised me a bit. Criteria: mainly does the song move me some kind of way - eg to want to dance, or get in my feels? Are the lyrics, rhythm, melody, instrumentation etc interesting? Does the song stay in my head? How do BTS fare?

Who. This surprised me but it was the song in my head this morning, and in the playlist the first notes made my heart lurch with anticipation. It's a really pretty song and it brings back all kinds of heartache that I sometimes enjoy wallowing in. I love the pizzicato strings, the melody is interesting and builds so powerfully to the chorus each time. Jikook sound lovely (their English diction has definitely improved since then but their musicality is on point). Lyrics are OK, I don't cringe when singing along.

2. My Universe. Overall an uplifting bop, I definitely looked forward to it coming up on the playlist. The baseline is funky. The variety of sections and voices provide contrast but blend seemlessly, they keep the energy moving forward. BTS are at their best singing in Korean imo. My fave bit is the reprise at the end where the synths are staccato and everyone yells after the slight pause; I always want to slam dance at that point.

3. Left and Right. The song got in my head, it's well constructed pop, a catchy hook, the lyrics do "can't get you outta my head" in a more imaginative way than usual. I have a thing about lyrics that don't scan well (y'know, when the emPHAsis is on the wrong sylLAble) so JK's "how much more do I gotta do for the pain" grates just a smidgen, but that's not on him. Same for Charlie's "E-rase your body". That's just my personal bugbear, lol. The duet/harmony works well, imo. The bridge is a bit cheesy, musically ("did ya know you're the one...").

4. Bad Decisions. Also catchy, funky bass makes me want to bop. I like the oohs and aahs, I would have pumped the echo up, personally. Points lost for (1) my bare face making JK sick? Didn't come across as a compliment lol. Also JM wants my name. What? (2) The "I can't let you just walk away" bridge was a bit incongruous, musically. (3) Snoop's verses. Meh.

5. Butter. NGL this surprised me. Butter has a special place in my heart as the song in which I discovered that these guys had my soul (esp. hotter remix). But trying to listen objectively alongside the other songs, I winced a bit when the flat drum machine sound comes in. Otherwise the song hangs together well musically. The lyrics are... okay.

6. Dynamite. Truthfully this song captures the disco feel really well, but it's a cheesy sound. IMO the vocals are overproduced. Also, I just can't with the lyrics.

7. Make It Right. The original is one of my healing songs, okay, so how do I judge this version? On re-listening, I realise I'm just here for Jimin's voice, and Lauv's verse is simply a disappointment in comparison. Sorry, Lauv!

8. Permission to Dance. Unlike the members, this song just didn't know how to land for me. I won't say more.

****

I'm not sure @ the criteria for this list, because they are not all 100% English songs - like if Agust D's collabs were in there then Burn It would be #1 for me. I goddam love that song.

✌🏾Peace

#BTS #bts collab #bad decisions #BTS english songs

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dreamlandcreations · 3 years

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Day 15 - Accidental confession

Poe Dameron (x Reader)

Kinktober prompt - Day 15 - Masturbation

All prompts are taken from @the-purity-pen‘s Kinktober List!

Poor Poe, I keep putting him in these kind of situations 😈😅

Warnings: angst, accidental voyerism (sort of), masturbation (male), a little more angst

•

Poe is on the way back to the base in this awful, junk of a ship after that terrible mission drained him, from which he barely got away with his life and now he wants nothing but to get off this ship and fall into his bed to sleep away the exhaustion.

Of course, it has to be you who gets his sign in at the middle of the night. Just when he thought this day couldn't get any worse, then you come along and scold him like he's an unruly child who always gets into trouble for the fun of it.

You are arguing, you always are. You lecture him, give him stupid nicknames after every mistake and you don't let go, you keep reminding him every reckless decision he ever made.

He cannot help but engage in it, you bring out a side of him he never knew existed. The war is frustrating to say the least and it actually feels good to let it out every ones in a while, not that he would admit it to you that your petty little quarrelling actually makes him feel better sometimes and he cannot wait to see you each morning.

Poe is sitting in the pilot seat of the rusty, stolen ship and listens to your direction to what to do, so he could get back home in one piece. But he absentmindedly snaps back a mean comment that hits too close. You've already gone silent when he realised what he'd said. He cursed and called out your name as gently as he could manage but the desperate need to take his words back was evident in his tone.

Before he can apologise, you interrupt him and ask a serious of questions with a quiet, even voice that he can barely recognise. Poe only witnessed this kind of mood on you once, when your best friend died and you were grieving silently with constant tears in your eyes, but refusing to let any of them fall.

The conversation continued like that and from the occasional deep breath you took he knew you were struggling not to cry and the picture of you in that broken state broke his heart too. He tried to ask for your forgiveness, saying he didn't mean it, but you interrupt him with a heavy sigh.

"I know, it doesn't matter." It only comes out as a whisper.

"Of course it does..." He raises his voice, not willing to let this go until he fixed it. But you just repeat calmly that it doesn't matter and there are more important things to deal with now.

"You need to fix that death-trap before it falls apart under you. Nothing else matters at the moment." You shot this argument down for now and move on to check the systems with him.

"Something is eating up the power, I don't get it, everything is down except the basic systems and it says something non-essential channels the energy but they are all shot down." You listen to him explain what he sees and add the answer after a moment of thinking.

"Your comm is on..."

"Fuck, why didn't I think of that?! Okay, I'll try to turn it off, if I'm not back on in a few seconds... Well, you can berate me to the others at my memorial, you have my permission." He wanted to lighten the mood but failed miserably.

"That's not funny." There are definitely tears in your eyes now, he can hear a tiny hiccup at the end of your sentence.

"I'm sorry." He's not apologising for this and you both know it. Before you could reply he turns off the communications system and a few seconds after he reports to you that you were right, it's the source of the problem.

"If I don't make it I want you to know..." He starts to confess his feelings, but you don't let him, thinking it will be an other apology that will just make you a sobbing mess.

"You will. Turn off the comm and only turn it back to report your status at every hour, or in case of an emergency. Central C out." That's all you say before leaving him to turn off the comm, which he does with an angry hit, almost breaking the thing.

"Fuck" He yells, wanting to hit something but not daring in case the ship actually falls apart.

"Why do we always have to argue?" He asks out loud, then leans back into the seat and keeps his eyes on the controls while he is thinking about you.

Long minutes pass by as he cannot get you out of his head, replaying the argument and the other occasions in his head over and over again until his mind starts to drift to the way your eyes shine when you are happy and that thought makes him realise he'd never seen you smile, he doesn't count your mocking laugh into this.

Poe pictures you smiling at him happily or mischievously and he wants to kiss you even more than before. He wonders what you would feel like, taste like, if you would be as bold with your kisses as with your words. And that thought makes him imagine all the things he'd like to do to you that involves more than kissing.

Before he can realise what he's doing his hand wraps around his hardening length and he squeezes, thinking it's your hand on him. He closes his eyes, letting his mind roam as he sets himself free of his pants and takes his cock into his hand, moving up and down slowly, imagining it's you who's teasing him as he knows you would. His pace doesn't alter as he lets out moans and talks aloud.

"Ah, yes, more, please..." He moves his thumb over the head in slow circles, visualising you on your knees before him licking the little drops of cum and sealing your lips around the tip.

He moves his hand faster now, thinking about how he would guide your head up and down on him as he curses and groans and dirty talks the imagined you.

"Fuck, yes... just like that..." He moans your name like a plea. "Take it, fuck, take it all. Put that big mouth of yours to good use." Poe comes hard as he almost feels you sucking on him with the way he squeezed himself. Cum shots out in ropes and he imagines you swallowing it all down. "Damnit. I love you so fucking much, you infuriating woman."

He is panting heavily, trying to get himself together when your voice makes him jump like he's been caught.

"Poe?" You call gently, which makes him feel even more busted, you never called him by his first name before. "Are you alright there?"

He looks at the time and lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and activates the comm to tell you he's still in one piece and on the way back to you.

Poe calls out your name before you can go and asks if you are alright, at which you huff out a little disbelieving laugh.

"I'm fine. Concentrate on staying alive, would you?" That sounds a little more like you and that makes him feel better. After a long silence he moves to turn off the damn energy leech but your voice stops him in mid move.

"Poe?"

"Yes?" He's afraid what you would say, thinks that maybe you heard him after all or you are about to pay back his nasty comment, but you couldn't surprise him more with what you're about to say.

"Just come home to me, okay?" With that you are gone, not waiting for an answer, leaving him confused and alone.

•

Poe Dameron arrives at the base, well, he crashes near the base to be exact. The rescue team gets him out of the remains and to the infirmary. He's not seriously injured and gives his report while they are preparing to release him.

He gathers his things and moves to get out of there and search for you, but when he looks up, you are already, looking him all over, assessing his injuries with a look he can't really place.

He rushes to you and starts to apologise for hurting you but you stop him with a hand on his lips and give him a gentle albeit somewhat insecure smile.

"Shut up and put that big mouth of yours to a good use for once." Your words terrify him and you render him uncharacteristically speechless for a long minute that makes you think you crossed the line and maybe you shouldn't have let him know you heard him, but when you would turn away to leave he grabs you and smashes your lips together.

He deepens the kiss, holding you close, hands moving from your arm and waist to frame your face while he steals your breath away. You lean back to calm down a little but he doesn't let you go, just brings his forehead to yours and takes a deep breath before saying the words that made you cry happy tears a few hours ago.

"I love you." It sounds so simple as he whispers it against your lips but it means the world to you and you try to compose yourself to reply but he kisses you again then pulls you out of the room.

•

He guides you to his quarters where you spend the night and all the nights after that. You return his confession and show him all the ways you can think of just how much he means to you.

The others ask how that happened, referring to your very public display of affection the first days after the incident. You only ever say that he accidentally confessed his feelings, which always makes him blush when the question comes up, but you refuse to elaborate.

You still argue, you get on each other's nerves, if anything the arguing got worse if you can believe your friends. But now there is not even a hint of anger in it, you still let out your frustration but it has a more playful edge to it and one of you always gives up easily. If it's him then he calls you an infuriating woman and grabs your head to smack a kiss to your forehead, if it's you, he would be called a difficult man and receive a peck and a light bite to his lower lip.

No matter the arguments or the difficulties you face in this seemingly endless war, you are always there for each other and your love only grows each day.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #tppkinktober2021 #kinktober #kinktober 2021 #poe x reader #poe x you #poe dameron x you #🔥#⚡#🧸#my stuff #my fics

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thornedrose44 · 3 years

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Supercorp prompt-

Lena takes an art class to de-stress and Kara is the nude model. Awkward semi- naked flirting ensues.

(A/N: So, I put my own twist on this (hope that’s okay), I made Lena a teacher just because I liked the idea of Lena having to keep her lack of chill under control and be professional in front of a class funny - though this fic went down just a really light, fluffy route which I hadn’t expected when I started it.)

Read on AO3

It had been going well, the first term had passed with only a few missteps and one trip to the emergency room - though, the Dean had told her that Zach had yet to make it through a single class without some sort of accident and had been preemptively banned from taking Chemistry classes for fear of taking out an entire graduation class.

Lena had never expected to return to her alma mater as a lecturer but the stars had aligned at just the right time. The youngest Luthor had reached a stage in her career where she had finally proven her adoptive mother wrong about not finding success as an artist and had made enough money that she need never paint another picture in her life again. The lack of necessity and the return to a more Luthor-esque lifestyle - galas, fancy balls and paid talks - had subsequently impacted her inspiration. She needed a change. A return to her roots and some sort of stability without losing her ability to make a personal impact with her work.

Her mentor - J’onn - was stepping down from the art department and had recommended her as his replacement; National City University had jumped at the chance of the world renowned Lena Luthor taking up a teaching position there.

She was now a third of the way through the school year, settled comfortably into her new role, and absolutely loving it. Her spark was back, and she was enjoying being in one place surrounded by her old friends. She was reconnecting with skills and techniques she hadn’t touched in years whilst simultaneously giving advice and encouragement to students that reminded her of herself when Lillian had cut her off to force her into attending business school and abandoning her dreams. She was finally able to return the kindness J’onn had given her all those years ago to the next generation of artists.

It was the second term that Lena experienced her first set of real nerves.

Lena had an artistic weak spot, an achilles heel that she had been able to keep out of her signature artistic style but she would now be forced to confront.

Life drawing.

It had been her lowest scoring class by a mile and she had avoided the advanced elective classes like the plague. Lena knew practice made perfect but she’d never had enough interest to develop her skills. Her interest had always lied more in natural landscape beauty - J’onn had said her true inspiration lied with trying to recreate her childhood memories of Ireland: emerald rolling hills, rocky cliffs, dense forests ensconced by a mystical fog that lended her artwork a fantastical element that she was now known for.

The problem lied in Lena’s lack of interest in people.

She had never really seen the ‘art’ in them.

Kelly, Sam and Andrea had spent hours over evening drinks psycho-analysing just why that might be, their two favourite theories were Lena’s family (the loss of her mother and the general unpleasantness of the Luthors) or Lena’s truly terrible dating history (their favourite topic of conversation due to the sheer number of embarrassing stories it elicited).

Lena refused to acknowledge the accuracy of both theories.

It was therefore with a sense of dread that Lena prepared for the first Life Model Drawing class that Tuesday afternoon. The one small silver lining was that she didn’t need to arrange a model - she had vague memories of J’onn trying to entice volunteers and grumbling under his breath about some of the less than pleasant eager volunteers. J’onn had a list of regular volunteers that he had accrued over the years that were reliable and just liked to help out - most of them older with an appreciation for the arts and more time on their hands than they knew what to do with. The University admin team had organised everything and simply told her to expect a Kara Danvers at the studio some time before the class.

Lena had finished prepping the studio well in advance, reviewed the relevant techniques for most of the morning and even phoned J’onn for a much needed pep talk over lunch. She had just convinced herself that everything might be okay, that she just might be able to do this, when the most beautiful woman Lena had ever laid eyes on burst into the studio.

A toned body that glinted with a light sheen of sweat barely covered by a white v-neck tucked in at the front of a pair of dark jeans that merely brought all of Lena’s attention to the bronze belt buckle that locked away a thousand dirty thoughts. Glorious golden ringlet curls bounced up and down as the woman stumbled to a sudden stop as the most piercing blue eyes imaginable behind thick glasses locked with Lena’s green ones.

“Hi, I’m Kara!” The goddess announced, swallowing thickly and stumbling forward in her hefty black boots as she extended out a hand for Lena to take.

Lena only reached out due to years of Luthor training that had ingrained politeness into her muscle memory - her brain still not firing on all cylinders at the sight of the woman in front of her. Kara’s warm palm connected with Lena’s, long fingers curling gently yet firmly around the edge of her hand and sending arcs of lightning through Lena’s body and causing her breath to stutter.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting for me for too long.” Kara continued, a bright apologetic smile lighting up her entire face and grinding whatever gears were still turning Lena’s mind to a dead - permanent - halt. “I try to always get here early to help set-up but the interview I was conducting overran - I’m a journalist, by the way - and then my bike - motorbike that is -” Lena’s mind caught on the motorbike and turned it round over and over and over again, “didn’t start and… I’m rambling. Oh, golly! I mean heck, I mean sorry.” Kara huffed, cheeks filling with air before releasing into an adorable pout. “Sorry.”

It was then that Lena realised two things.

One, it was her turn to say something and there had now been at least ten prolonged seconds of silence as they stared into each other’s eyes.

And two, they were still holding hands because that’s what it was now, it most definitely could not be considered a handshake.

“Umm… hi…” Lena choked out whilst simultaneously jerking her hand back to her side, hoping the somewhat stifling heat of the studio would hide the red blush perfusing her cheeks. “Lena. I’m Lena, that is…”

“Hi.” Kara murmured, smiling soft and sweet at her causing Lena’s heart to flip and melt and dance and do a million impossible things all at once.

“Hi.” Lena repeated dumbly - so dumbly.

“I should…” Kara chuckled, hands miming grabbing the edge of her t-shirt and lifting it up, “You know?”

Oh, god the goddess is going to undress, Lena’s brain screamed in gay at herself.

“Yeah, definitely do that.” Lena encouraged with a flap of her hand towards the centre of the studio where a solitary illuminated stool awaited. “Do you need anything? Is the lighting okay? Stool… umm… sturdy?”

Kara grinned at her, blue eyes barely sparing a glance at the studio’s set-up, “Looks perfect.”

“Great.” Lena cheered, jerking her thumb over at her desk in the corner where she had prepped her teaching materials, “I’ll… uh… be over there.”

“And I’ll be right here.” Kara shot back with a cheeky wink as she walked over to the stool, a towel awaiting her to provide suitable covering until the class had settled, shucking her white shirt over her head and revealing back muscles that would star in Lena’s fantasies for the foreseeable future.

“Yep.” Lena popped, taking a deep breath and trying to work out if she should be murmuring a thank you to God or screaming a desperate why me.

***

The class had gone well - except for the long periods where her brain shutdown whenever she studied the play of shadows across Kara’s defined musculature. She managed to cover it quite well by making it seem like she was just assessing her students’ work closely, analysing their line work and shading rather than going through an extended gay crisis that eclipsed seeing boobs for the first time in college.

Kara, on the other hand, was a consummate professional, holding a steady pose throughout and utterly unfazed by the concentrated gazes on her - though, Lena could have sworn that she caught deep blue eyes tracking her movements round the half-circle every now and again.

“So, you’re experienced doing this?” Lena asked, once the last student had departed and Kara was finishing re-tying her sturdy boots back up.

“Taking my clothes off?” Kara chuckled, shooting the teacher an amused smirk, getting to her feet and strolling easily over to where Lena was examining the product of her class’ efforts.

Lena faltered, “I meant-”

“I’m just teasing.” Kara reassured, reaching out to squeeze Lena’s forearm in a half-apology that Lena could have sworn burnt Kara’s hand print into her skin, “I’ve done this for a while now. I did an interview with J’onn a few years ago and his model bailed at the last minute and I was here already and…” Kara shrugged casually like stepping in was the obvious thing to do, like kindness was the only option - which Lena didn’t doubt for a second was something Kara genuinely believed. “I like helping out where I can. And I just kept coming back…” Kara explained, clasping her hands behind her back as she took a tentative step closer to Lena, “I was never really sure why until-”

“Hey, babe, you ready to go?”

Lena’s head snapped round to see Andrea strolling through the doorway, eyes fixed on her phone utterly oblivious to the moment she had just trampled all over. Lena wasn’t sure whether Andrea was naturally such a good cockblock or if she practiced at it - regardless of either option Lena’s sexlife had vanished into thin air since she’d returned to living in the same city as Andrea. (Not that Lena thought that her and Kara were heading that way but Lena had been enjoying the hope of it at least).

“Andrea, you’re early for the first time in.... well, ever…” Lena snarked, rolling her eyes before glancing over to Kara, only to find the blonde had taken a large step away from her and her expression was far more neutral and guarded than it had been only moments before.

“Wait, we weren’t meeting at 4?” Andrea frowned, still not bothering to look up.

“Ah, so you’re not early, you’re over an hour late.” Lena remarked.

“God, you’re such a drama queen…” Andrea sighed, finally lifting her gaze from her phone, her eyes immediately alighting on Kara with undisguised interest. “And who is this?”

“Andrea, this is Kara the model for our life drawing classes.” Lena introduced taking a protective step in front of the blonde, an action that did not go unnoticed by the other two occupants in the room. “Kara, this is my supposed best friend who is regularly trying to lose that title.”

“Oh, best friend?” Kara repeated; the familiar brightness from before returning to her expression as she looked excitedly between the two friends.

“Yes.” Lena answered, smiling shyly at Kara and immediately forgetting Andrea’s existence, let alone presence in the room.

“That’s great.” Kara grinned, blushing a light pink a second later as her hands fidgeted with her keys, “I mean… ummm…. That you have a best friend. My sister is my best friend, though I have other friends. I just mean that… friends are cool.”

Lena laughed lightly at Kara’s ramble, leaning closer towards the blonde without realising until Andrea appeared at her shoulder looking far too pleased with herself.

“Kara,” Andrea greeted, holding out a hand for the blonde to shake (Lena was comforted to see their handshake was quick, almost professional in comparison to the lingering touch Kara and Lena had shared earlier). “The pleasure is all mine.” Andrea declared, winking surreptitiously at the teacher - Lena instantly dreaded the upcoming girl’s night.

“Nice to meet you.” Kara replied friendly and sincere, before smiling softly at Lena and muttering a hopeful, “I’ll see you next week?”

“I’ll be here.” Lena reassured, watching as Kara nodded farewell to Andrea and departed, waving on her way out.

“Well…” Andrea murmured mischievously.

“Don’t.” Lena said sharply, holding up a finger to deter whatever torment Andrea had brewing. “Not a word. Not a single word.”

“Ooookay.” Andrea lied.

***

“You okay?” Lena asked tentatively, watching as Kara sluggishly slung her bag over her shoulder the pep to her step nowhere near as present as it had been last week.

They hadn’t had a chance to talk before the class even though Kara arrived much earlier to help set-up - Lena had been helping a student struggling with deadlines and a sudden crisis of confidence which prevented them from interacting. Despite being occupied, Lena had seen the fatigue weighing heavily on the reporter, saw how her impeccable posture dropped and how her students added weary lines to her expression in their artwork.

“I think you fell asleep on that stool for ten minutes at some point.” Lena murmured, brow creasing in concern.

“Pfft… what?” Kara reassured with a light-hearted wave of her hand. “Impossible.”

Lena arched an unimpressed eyebrow, “You snore. Quite loudly.”

“Oh…” Kara pouted guiltily, rubbing at the back of her neck, “My sister is going through a rough patch and I stayed up late with her last night.”

Lena’s amusement drained away to be replaced with soft, supportive care, “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s doing better.” Kara replied, blue eyes twinkling at Lena’s inquiry that had them both ducking their heads coyly and sharing furtive glances. “I should get going.” Kara coughed out, though she made no move to leave.

“Or…” Lena began hesitantly, heart fluttering in her chest, “we could go for coffee? You should probably have a coffee before driving,” Lena rationalised, nervously stepping back from the blatant romantic line she was toeing, “you know for safety…”

“For safety.” Kara repeated carefully, blue eyes glowing with warmth, “That sounds wonderful.”

***

It didn’t take them long at all to settle into a comfortable routine.

Kara came early to the life model classes, helping set-up the room as they talked about the students' progress and what Lena was going to make the focus of the class. During the class itself, Lena no longer needed to flit as regularly between her students, they had learned the basic techniques enough to practise for themselves, now only requiring light guidance which allowed Lena time to either do some marking or her own art. Kara posed perfectly throughout, though Lena was becoming more and more aware of Kara’s still gaze on her as the weeks passed by.

After class, it was now custom for them to grab a coffee and go for a long walk around the university campus as they talked about everything and nothing. They would have been building towards a strong friendship if it wasn’t for the lingering touches, blatant flirts, blushes and wandering gazes.

Lena wasn’t overly sure why they hadn’t crossed that line, made that final move, but she found she didn’t particularly mind the wait. She was convinced that they had both decided that the journey was making the destination all the more desirable.

It became abundantly apparent, though, that Kara thought differently if their conversation after the class midway through the term was anything to go by.

“So do you not like my body?” Kara asked, quick and fearful, eyes looking down at the sketch Lena had done during class of a vase of flowers in the corner rather than of the readily available model.

“What?” Lena muttered in disbelief looking up sharply from her desk to see Kara paling considerably having clearly not intended to ask the question that she had blurted out.

“I… uh…” Kara squeaked, mouth opening and closing rapidly, before lifting her bare wrist up with a jerky motion and whistling in exaggerated surprise, “Wow, look at the time. I’m late for… uh… this thing. Work thing. Interview! That’s a work thing.”

And just like that she was gone - Lena wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a Kara shaped hole in the studio wall with how fast she disappeared - leaving Lena with a sinking, twisty feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she might have lost more than her regular coffee with Kara over that one interaction.

***

Lena had Kara’s phone number and they had taken to texting throughout the day; however, since Kara’s panicked question - which probably revealed some deep vulnerability in the blonde - there had been complete and total radio silence. No memes, no cute animal pics, no sweet check ins… Lena’s phone remained silent when it once vibrated with life.

Lena wanted to text or call Kara the second she had left the studio but Lena didn’t feel like this was a conversation they could have over text, so she waited impatiently for them to be face to face again, counting down the days until the next class.

Lena even took to repeatedly checking in with the admin office to confirm that Kara hadn’t pulled out of modelling; reaching the stage where Jess, the most senior admin in the team, had taken to emailing her every couple of hours to reassure her that Kara still hadn’t cancelled.

When Kara appeared, nervously stepping into the art room, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, it was like Lena could finally breathe easy again. The fear and loss eeking away in an instant, giving Lena the necessary courage to stride forward and bare herself in a way that Kara had been doing every week without Lena fully realising.

“I don’t like drawing people.” Lena announced, shoving her hands into her pockets to resist the temptation to reach out to the other woman as the blonde blinked at her in surprise, listening intently. “It’s kind of a thing with me.” Lena winced, pushing down all the reasons for why that is. “When I draw something I… kind of let whatever it is into me, let it consume me and it… stays with me for a long time after that. It’s why I draw what I draw. I draw my home because it's a part of me already. Drawing someone means carrying them with me and… that’s scary for me.” Lena breathed, glancing at the blonde to see soft understanding in blue eyes. “I just wanted you to know it’s not you.”

Kara nodded, shuffling closer and dipping her head so that she could whisper into the still space between them, “Thank you.”

“Right,” Lena murmured, swallowing thickly before jerking a thumb over her shoulder, “I should-”

“Do you want to get dinner?” Kara inquired earnestly causing Lena to freeze in hopeful surprise. “After class, that is?”

“Um… Yes.” Lena replied, nodding her head eagerly.

“Awesome.” Kara grinned brightly.

***

Kara took her to a tucked away italian restaurant that was one of National City’s hidden gems. The food was outstanding and the company was even better.

It wasn’t a date, but it wasn’t just friends going out for dinner either.

Lena would call it a test-run but that would imply that Lena wasn't already one hundred percent certain that she wanted an actual date with Kara. It was more of a date-appetiser if Lena was going to call it anything, a taste to build interest before the real thing.

Once they had finished their food, Kara didn’t hesitate to interlace their fingers as they went for an evening stroll around a nearby park, both wishing to prolong their time together.

“Can I see your art?” Kara requested; they had been sitting on a bench in front of a lit-up fountain for the last twenty minutes or so in comfortable silence. Lena had expressed an interest in sketching the fountain and Kara hadn’t hesitated to find them a seat and encourage Lena’s desire without complaint, occupying herself with people-watching in the meantime.

“I’m pretty sure the images are all over the internet.” Lena replied drolly.

“Yeah, I know it’s just…” Lena’s pencil froze in it’s movements finally noticing how hard Kara was trying to act casual, “what you said about it being a part of you, I thought-”

“You want me to show it to you…” Lena inferred, setting her pencil down and closing her handy sketchbook in an instant.

“It’s stupid, I’ll-” Kara laughed awkwardly, shaking her head in an attempt to brush over the request like it wasn’t a big deal

“I don’t have many pieces here in National City,” Lena said thoughtfully, getting to her feet and holding out a hand for Kara, “but I have some works in progress that I can show you… if you want that is?”

“I would love that.” Kara beamed, jumping to her feet as Lena tugged her back towards her campus studio, already picking out her favourite pieces in her mind that she wanted to share with the blonde.

***

Lena and Kara’s ‘friendship’ continued to blossom into something neither could have anticipated that day Kara sprinted into the studio all those weeks ago. The weekly class they shared was now always followed by dinner, taking it in turns to share their favourite cuisines and restaurants. They had also grown beyond only seeing each other on their allotted class day, sharing lunches and movie nights and spontaneous coffees as they learned each other's schedule and needs.

Lena read all of Kara’s articles and spent many an evening asking countless questions about the background to each of them. Likewise, Kara would appear for coffee with one of Lena’s artworks saved in her phone, burning with curiosity about what had inspired it.

Time spent with Kara flew by and, before Lena knew it, it was the final class prior to spring break. Her last class with Kara until the next school year and Lena was finally ready.

She had finally figured it out.

Why she had waited.

Why she had yet to seize the numerous opportunities to transition her relationship with Kara into a romantic one.

It was because she knew.

She knew from the second that she had taken Kara’s hand in hers when they first met that this was it. That Kara was it.

And that was, and still is, terrifying.

When they had first met, Lena hadn’t been ready for Kara. Hadn’t been ready for everything that Kara represented and would come to mean. She had needed the time, the time to lower her guard, to trust and hope.

And now, she was ready and she knew exactly how to let Kara know.

The class came to an end with Lena giving her students a quick speech on how proud of their progress she was and wishing them a good spring break. Kara lingered behind as was now custom, helping Lena tidy up the area before they headed out together.

“Kara?” Lena called out nervously, sweaty palms rubbing against her black denim covered thighs as her heart beat thunderously in her chest. “I was wondering…” Lena began, clearing her throat as Kara stopped what she was doing to give Lena her undivided attention. “Can I… can I draw you?”

Kara’s brow instantly furrowed in confusion, “I thought-”

“Yeah…” Lena laughed shyly, staring into deep blue eyes, practically begging for Kara to understand what she was really saying. “Can I?” Lena repeated.

Kara pursed her lips thoughtfully as she studied Lena’s expression - it was then Lena realised that Kara understood exactly why they had been waiting. Kara wasn’t replying because she wanted to check that Lena was sure, was giving Lena a chance to delay, was saying - without really saying it - that she could wait longer.

Lena didn’t take the escape Kara offered, instead she lifted her head higher and arched an eyebrow at the blonde.

A thousand-watt smile of excitement took up residence on Kara’s face as she nodded eagerly, “Of course.”

“Clothes on.” Lena clarified - she had promised herself that the first time she truly studied Kara’s body it would be in a setting where touching would not break any professional standards.

***

Lena had Kara sit opposite her in her private studio, their knees pressed tightly against one another providing a warm point of contact to keep them grounded. Lena’s gaze flickered from her sketchpad to Kara’s features; occasionally, she would reach out to adjust a lock of golden hair so it caught the light. Kara, meanwhile, had an ever constant soft smile that didn’t diminish for the entirety of the session even as she was forced to rein in her boundless curiosity to stop herself from sneaking a peek at Lena’s sketch until it was ready to be revealed.

Lena only drew Kara’s head because, though, she had spent countless hours in the presence of Kara’s naked body over the course of the last few weeks - when Lena thought of Kara (really thought about her in the way that made her heart skip), it wasn’t her abs or her biceps that Lena pictured (though she did think about them regularly when she was in her bed alone at night).

It was Kara’s eyes that Lena thought about most.

How they were so bright and hopeful whilst simultaneously melancholic and lost.

There were whole galaxies in those blue eyes and Lena knew that she could spend the rest of her life drawing them and never get bored, nor get them exactly right.

“What do you think?” Lena asked, slowly turning her sketchbook round for Kara to see.

It wasn’t finished. It was mere line work that would require further detailing but it was a good start and she hoped Kara could see its potential like she did with everything else in the world - like she did with Lena.

“It’s…” Kara began, licking her lips as she pulled the sketchbook closer to her chest like it was something treasured and infinitely rare. “It's incredible.” Kara breathed, the sincerity of her words undeniable due to how they were accompanied by a watery film to her blue eyes.

“I like your body.” Lena whispered, shattering the companionable silence they had drifted into as Kara admired Lena’s artistry.

“W-w-what?” Kara stammered, head jerking up at the out-of-the-blue declaration.

Lena reached out for the sketchbook, lifting it out of Kara’s hand and placing it on the nearby table so that she could take Kara’s hands in hers.

“You asked if I liked your body a while ago,” Lena reminded the blonde, “and I just thought you should know that I do. I really, really do. I mean really.” Lena emphasised, glancing appreciatively down at Kara’s body prompting the blonde to blush a pleased pink. “But it's more than just that. It’s become more than that. Talking after class, getting coffee, going for dinner… it's the best part of my week. You’re the best part of my week.”

“Lena-” Kara began, her mouth suddenly snapping shut as her jaw clenched and her chin lifted in determination. Blue eyes studied Lena for a long moment and all Lena could do was hold her breath and wait.

Lena made Kara wait weeks, she could therefore wait the stretched seconds that Kara needed in return without complaint

Kara got confidently to her feet, tugging Lena up with her, squeezing their hands once before releasing her so that she could reach up to tenderly cup Lena’s face. “I’m going to kiss you now.” Kara declared, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank fu-” Lena sighed gratefully, cut off from offering up her thanks by Kara’s perfect lips sliding over hers.

#supercorp #supercorp fic #supercorp prompt

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