#can’t guarantee any of it is good but yeah

[starfoam-saloon]

HNNNNN

Twst au but instead it goes like this;

One of the twst boys(whoever) ends up getting transported to your world with no magic. They wake up in your house after you help them when you found them in the alleyway on your way home like ouch dude. You find out they aren’t from this world after they do some magic so you guys spend the entire summer helping each other and comforting them since they have issues with themselves and being homesick or something. Yadda yadda yall fall in love and are dating during it.

One day, miraculously on the last day of summer, yall find the mirror and that twst boy is sent back after yall promise to find each other again. Maybe like a years later(idk imagine time runs differently there) you’re getting ready for bed and you wake up in that coffin.

Something something and you end up starting your first day at NRC. Yayyyy!!!! And when you meet the twisted wonderland guy, at first glance yall immediately know each other and yall are just being cute and everyone who knows you is like “HUH???” Imagine meeting Ace and he can’t bully you cause oh no that’s his idiot. Meeting riddle and he immediately calms down. Meeting Lilia and silver is just like “huh.” Or it could be the other way around. Ruggie seeing Leona all soft and he’s just like “when???!?!!??” It’s such a funny concept to me cause imagine you and Ace are together and your friends are like “Ace how did you pull on the first day” and before Ace can stroke his ego you just say “he stuttered 15 times trying to ask me out”

OH OH imagine meeting Vil and he’s like “and who is- oh hello dear- and WHAT-???” Vil tenderly holding you as the rest of the VDC group is just shocked that Vil mr popular had a lover. Or any of Octavinelle thinking it’s a bit strange that one of them is really good at walking since they don’t believe either of them when they said they went to the human world for the entire summer. Jade or Floyd just think the other explored the ocean the entire summer idk—

Jamil angst a bit cause he thought the one he loved would never be here again and feels slightly betrayed when they ask for help from Azul of all people. But just appreciates them entirely either way cause yeah. If you’re dating either of the overblot boys I guarantee they aren’t gonna let you get in the way and might keep you at a distance while you try to help your friends. (Yum favoritism)

Or dating one of the RSA boys so imagine their shock when Chen’ya kisses you at an Unbirthday party when he steals some food. Or Neige hugging you and saying all kinds of honeyed words with heart eyes as he sees you again. Is a bit sad you’re in NRC.

AND MY FAVORITE ROLLO!!! Like imagine he’s just being all dramatic and he sees his lover and just opens his arms cause he knows they’re gonna jump in them. Rollo trying to not be jealous since Mallues seems to care a bit too much about his lover(Mal just wanna be a good friend I swear). He keeps you in the bell tower to try and not get you hurt but you end up accidentally falling with the others. Yadda yadda, you stay with Trein even if you’re the most stubborn person on the planet, and you eventually pull him to the side before Malleus can do his whole ‘imagine losing to me lmao’ thingy ig. And the two of you talk but you two eventually just love and care for the other and when you leave the others are asking if y’all broke up to which you reply “um… nuh uh.” While holding a letter from Rollo so you two can write to each other (he texted while he cans and calls you but he likes to send letters since he thinks it’s romantic and reminds him of the love letter he gave you in the summer in your world.)

They love you lots, so don’t be too surprised if they feel like they want you to stay here with them. :(

IF ANYONE MAKES A FIC OF THIS USING EITHER THEIR TWST OC/SELF INSERT/ READER PLEASE @ ME/TAG ME I WOULD LOVE TO SEE YALLS THINGS WITH THE IDEA I HAD PLSPLSPLPS☹️☹️

[bo0zey]

anyone else ever get in those silly goofy moods where u just hate urself sooo much that u instantly feel physically almost violently ill just thinking abt urself and also even tho u worked a 12hr shift w no breaks or water running off of the 2 cups of coffee u had for breakfast 20 hours ago, the thought of eating instantly sends bouts of nausea coursing thru ur soul while churning in ur stomach bc ur brain hates u so much that its convinced ur body that u don’t deserve sustenance or anything else that’s life sustaining or promotes ur physical well being because u subconsciously convinced urself that ur such a shit excuse for a human being that u neither deserve nor have any right to anything regarding maslow’s hierarchy of needs bc u r such an awful thing u deserve to be neglected n treated like the nonliving object ur own brain sees ur living body as or am i just mentally ill lol

[seventh-district]

CW: mention of death and health issues (but it’s in a relatively positive light, for once!)

[sttoru]

omgg how about car sex with gojo?

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. unprotected, creampie, breast play. spanking. big dick satoru bcs. yes.

you wouldn’t have agreed to this if satoru’s windows weren’t tinted. luckily for both of you they were and it was in the middle of the night—an empty parking lot serving as the perfect setting for your ‘activities’.

“shit—look at you, riding this cock so fuckin’ well.” satoru grins, slumping back in his seat, legs spread with his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth on top of him. you were doing most work however, bouncing and sometimes grinding against him in attempt to take his massive length in as far as it could reach.

“nghhh, ‘toru, s’good.” your fingers dug into his shoulder and curl around the material of his shirt. the condensation on the car windows becomes more noticeable the more you two go at it. your mixed breath, gasps and moans fill the air whilst your combined thrusts make the car itself shake in its place.

satoru’s hand lands harshly on your ass once, and then twice for good measure. he relishes in the sensations of you tightening up whenever he’s spanking you; “yeah? i know it is. you wouldn’t be bouncing on my dick like a desperate and greedy little thing if it wasn’t.”

you felt like you could run out of breath at any moment thus you slowed down a bit, pressing your upper body against your lover’s to calm yourself down—the pleasure chasing was a tiring task after all. especially when satoru’s mainly letting you do all the work while he’s lazily leaning back against the headrest.

he did look as handsome as ever; the light blue dress shirt crinkled and slightly unbuttoned at the bottom to let you see his abs tensing with each grunt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows which allowed you to see every vein on his arms whilst his hands played with your breasts. the one thing that perfected that look were his sunglasses which rested on the top of his head. satoru had apparently took them off to see you in all your glory;

“already tired, hm?” he chuckles once he notices how much you’re struggling to resume your movements. his hand strokes the back of your head lovingly, the other still playing with your tits, “want me to help you out?”

you nod with a weak ‘please’, too exhausted to ride him any further all on your own. you had already came thrice whilst he had reached his climax only once.

“aww, all right, pretty.” satoru chuckles before slowly lifting your hips up and off his lap, eyes darkening for a second once he sees the mess on his dick and thighs—your own slick mixed with his cum staining his skin. it made him want to devour you right away.

he lays you down over the backseat and wastes no time climbing between your legs, pumping his length with one hand whilst looking down at your body spread out for him in such a small place.

having spent the last half an hour seeing you bounce on his cock whilst he did nothing but smack your ass or play with your tits was all for this moment—he was gathering and sparing his energy to fuck you good at last;

“hold onto me, angel. can’t guarantee you’ll be able to walk straight after this.”

[sugoi-and-spice]

Vox Relationship Headcanons

Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!

(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).

SFW

It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.

That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess. 

A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.

When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.

Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.

Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.

Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.

And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.

When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games. 

Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.

The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.

A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.

And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.

This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.

NSFW

BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.

“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.

Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.

“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”

He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.

On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.

Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.

Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.

He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.

Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.

On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming. 

LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.

I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.

He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Full Baby Back Guarantee Not Included (dp x dc)

“Look, lady. It was a joke, ok? I don’t actually want your newborn baby,” Danny said as he held up his hands trying to back away from the woman with a bundle of blankets in her arms.

“We made a deal, you can’t back out now,”  The woman said as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Your kind can’t break their words.”

“My kind?” Danny exclaimed incredulously, because what the hell was she on. “Lady, you are delusional.”

Then his eyes caught on the awkward way the woman was holding onto the bundle and he frowned.

“Wait a second.” The halfa’s eyes went big. “Is that even your kid?!” his voice turning into a shriek at the end. “Did you kidnap some random child?”

“It’s my sister’s,” the woman cut him off coldly. “She and the father are both dead.” That was pretty awful, Danny thought as he winced. But then she turned to look blankly at him.

“Nobody will look for her.”

Dear skies above, he was supposed to be the ghost here, why was he the one getting chills.

“Holy fuck,” the halfa let out softly. 

He had to get that baby away from that psychopath.

“What is it you want again?” Danny asked faintly.

“Make me the new chief operating officer,” the woman answered.

“What?” The halfa choked out.

“They’re giving the position to Shwartz this monday. You need to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she continued evenly as if she wasn’t currently selling a baby in exchange for a fucking promotion.

“Yeah sure, deal,” Danny answered, eager to get away from her as soon as possible. 

“Give me your word,” she insisted.

“I give my word, I swear,” the halfa said. “Gimme the kid and you’ll get your job.”

The woman looked at him for a second before seemingly being satisfied. 

She extended the bundle of blankets towards him and handed him the swaddle baby. As soon as the kid was in his arms, Danny zipped away, fully intent on never seeing the woman again. He sure as hell was not getting her that promotion. Not that he would’ve been able to, what the hell, lady? At least research better before making a deal for your sister's baby!

Though in retrospect, it was a good thing she hadn't.

As Danny flew over a few buildings, he thanked the ancients the woman hadn’t had any ghost restraining tech, and only the summoning ritual. Which was a thing he had not been aware existed but he he would have to circle back to that because, right now, he had a whole ass baby nestled in his arms.

What the hell was his life.

Danny slowed down the flight once he felt he had put enough distance between them and the psycho and landed on a nice patch of green next to a road. He looked around and took notice that they’d gotten out of whatever that city had been, or at least the more populated part. He gave a quick look for people or cameras around before de-transforming. If he was spotted with a baby in his arms, his human look would help his chance of not getting shot.

The halfa started walking away from the road and towards the green vegetation. Still walking, he took a deep breath before looking down at the baby.

“You ok, kid?” Danny asked softly as their small (so so tiny!) face twitched in their sleep. “Oh you’re sleepy, huh?” he murmured gently. “Sleep tight sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Then he secured the blankets around the baby again, making sure none of the wind was reaching her. It was probably a her? The blankets were pink but he couldn’t know for sure since the psycho had only called her an it. Danny felt his lips curl. And as the night replayed in his mind, he felt the weight of the situation settle down on him.

Ancients what was he going to do?

He couldn’t pull up in Amity with a baby in his arms and no explanation of how he got her. He’d be arrested for kidnapping, which was technically absolutely what he was doing. But then again he couldn't just give that baby back to her aunt.

“What are you doing here?” came a voice from ahead of him.

Danny startled out of his thoughts to find himself facing an older man in a suit with a severe look on his face. The halfa instinctively brought the baby closer to his chest and the movement drew the older man’s eyes towards it.

Danny could see the realization of what it was he was holding settle and the man's face softened. He sighed deeply as his gaze went back up to meet the halfa’s.

“Despite what the media fancy printing, Wayne manor is not actually an orphanage.”

Danny had no idea what he was talking about so he just stayed silent and did his best not to look like someone who kidnapped babies.

The older man took the silence in stride. “If you need some help, there are programs to help young people in your situation,” he continued delicately.

Danny frowned as he tried to figure out what the guy meant by that before his eyes grew wide. “I’m not her dad!” He cried.

“I see,” the man said evenly as he looked back down at the bundle. Danny held her closer in response. “I see,” the guy repeated with a slight change in his voice.

The two held each other’s gaze for a moment before the older man sighed again. 

“Shall we continue this inside? It is getting windy and we wouldn’t want the little one to suffer, would we?” The man offered in a soothing tone.

Danny hesitated but one look at the kid’s face that had grown pink from the cold decided him.

“Ok,” Danny said. “Lead the way.”

And with that the three of them started  across the grassy lawn.

[cl6teen]

come and see me ❀ ln4

in which everybody knows just how whipped your long distance boyfriend is for you

contains: social media!au, student!reader (21-22), whipped!lando who spoils you a bunch, a short little thing because i love writing for lando, this is purely self indulgent lmao; but to my requests dw im certainly getting to them

📍 rio de janeiro

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, bsfsinstagram and 79,477 others

yourinstagram clearly not much studying is being done!

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landonorris goddamn

landonorris first

bsfsinstagram this is getting out of hand

landonorris 😍😍

landonorris how are you so beautiful??

landonorris hey

yourinstagram hi i have a boyfriend 🥰

landonorris he’s a lucky guy

maxfewtrell please just come visit so that lando can shut up and stop whining about you

liked by yourinstagram

luv4lando lando always having post notifications on for yn is so boyfriend of him 😭😭

user hes literally head over heels for her

oscarpiastri please do your schoolwork

yourinstagram you’re one to talk 😬

liked by yourinstagram, f1bestwags, danielricciardo and 533,266 others

lando.jpg tfw when u miss ur girlfriend but she’s across the world

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danielricciardo my man my man my man lookin ass

landonorris my girl my girl my girl , and what about it?

yourinstagram i love you 🥰

yourinstagram call me call me call me

landonorris yes ma’am 😍

user lando seems like the type to mention his relationship at any moment and i’m here for it

oscarpiastri he does 😒

landonorris you act like it bothers you

oscarpiastri i just listen because i can’t tell you to shut up

user omg i’ve just gotten into watching f1 but who’s this?

user lando’s girlfriend! he’s head over heels whipped for her

bsfsinstagram please stop facetiming her while we’re trying to study ☹️

user get you a man like lando norris

yourinstagram he’s a one of a kind, but good luck trying!

user nothing was more sweet than watching lando’s post race interview when he said his celebratory plans were going home and facetiming y/n

user need this kind of love in my life asap 😩

my man 🏎️

are you back from the beach?

you

mhm, just made some dinner

wanna see the photos i took?

my man 🏎️

the answer’s the same every time babe

you

i’m screaming into my pillow and kicking my feet rn

my man 🏎️ loved an image

my man 🏎️ loved an image

my man 🏎️

holy shit yn

😩😩😩

is that the dress i sent you??

shit, it looks good, you look so good in it

im glad i bought it

you’re the prettiest woman i’ve ever seen

you

lando omg

stop it stop it

my man 🏎️

i cant praise my girlfriend?

i should buy you more things

you

please don’t 😭

this was more than enough i’m so in love with it

my man 🏎️

if i can’t see you i can at least spoil you

i was going to get you a van cleef stack, what colour did you want?

you

lando norris.

i don’t need a van cleef bracelet.

my man 🏎️

what about some heels?

you

you’ve already got me a bunch, my closet is begging for more space

how about you get me podium on your race in singapore?

i cant wait to watch tomorrow

my man 🏎️

well that’s already a guaranteed

i’ll just surprise you 🤍

you

okay love 🤍

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yourinstagram come and see me for once (lando)

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user awe the photo from his stream earlier 🥺

user HELP when he saw that y/n was watching he got so smiley and excited

bsfsinstagram not the partynextdoor lyric

yourinstagram the best of the best

landonorris im coming.

yourinstagram yeah sure 😓

user the period???

danielricciardo is this shade 🤔

yourinstagram most definitely not daniel, get off my page

bsfsinstagram danielricciardo you can get onto mine instead 😍

user realer than real

user does anyone else thinks she’s always too quick to show off her body, like she barely wears any clothing

landonorris shut up

bsfsinstagram shut up

oscarpiastri shut up

danielricciardo shut up

user omg if i was that user i would have no choice but to stop living bc how u get cussed out four times back to back

my man 🏎️

you shouldn’t worry about that comment angel

it’s been a few days, they took it down

you

i know, lots of people say it anyway

it shouldn’t bother me

my man 🏎️

it’s okay if it bothers you

but don’t change because of it

i like what you wear

i actually love it

you

🙄

of course you like it

you like everything about me

my man 🏎️

why wouldn’t it?

you’re so smart and kind

and fucking beautiful

i won the lottery

so don’t change yourself to fit a rando’s wants

who the hell even are they

you

i love you so much

i wish you were here right now

my man 🏎️

yeah, me too

but i got you that gift i was talking about

it should have arrived by now

you

oh i didn’t even notice

my man 🏎️

yeah they said they dropped it off at your door

you

okay i’ll go check, i’ll facetime you in a bit to try it on

liked by bsfsinstagram, mclaren, landonorris and 643,444 others

yourinstagram so he did in fact come and see me…

tagged landonorris

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user lando standing on business norris

liked by yourinstagram

landonorris i hope you liked the gift i sent

yourinstagram i love it so much

danielricciardo are you not the gift in question lando

oscarpiastri ik your grades are cussing you out rn

yourinstagram i’m actually still getting all A’s i’ll have you know

bsfsinstagram parents reunited in brazil!!

yourinstagram 💋💋

liked by yourinstagram, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 895,256 others

landonorris 🇧🇷 with this stinker

view all comments

user the differences in their posts are taking me outtt

yourinstagram why would you post that

landonorris why wouldn’t i post that?

user will you be back in time for qatar?

mclaren he better be 😅

danielricciardo this is so girl from ipanema core lando

landonorris shut up mate

oscarpiastri when lando finally sees his girlfriend again and is no longer there to complain 🙏🏻

landonorris you know you miss me

oscarpiastri say hi to yn for me

yourinstagram best boyfriend ever 💋

landonorris only for you 🤍

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling

(Part 2)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader

Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.

Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.

Part one ⬇️:

A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3

———————

Bold is reader’s thoughts.

Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.

The size of the tattoo is in inches.

———————

Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?

Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.

The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.

The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.

“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.

“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.

“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.

“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.

Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.

Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.

“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.

“Why’s that?”

Fuucckkkk.

“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.

“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.

Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.

“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.

Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.

“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.

Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.

To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.

“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”

“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.

“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.

“Yep.��� You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.

“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.

“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.

“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“

“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.

“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.

“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.

“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”

You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.

He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.

“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.

“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.

“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”

“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.

“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.

“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.

“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.

“I’m good I swear, now go!”

“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.

Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.

James:

Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?

Send me the address to the shop

Now… please

Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.

You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.

James:

See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.

Little shit.

————

You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.

Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.

Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.

Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.

“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.

“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.

Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.

“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.

“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”

“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.

“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.

“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”

His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.

“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.

“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.

“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.

“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”

“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.

“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.

“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.

“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.

“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”

“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.

Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.

“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.

“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”

Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.

Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.

The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.

If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.

He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.

You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.

He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.

“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.

“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”

Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.

“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.

“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

Christ alive.

“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.

“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.

“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.

“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”

Like I could regret you.

You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.

“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.

You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.

“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.

“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.

I like him. He says okie dokie.

“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.

You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.

“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.

“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”

“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.

“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.

“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.

“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.

————

You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.

“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.

“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.

“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.

God he’s pretty.

“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.

“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.

“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.

“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.

“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”

“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.

————

The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.

“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”

“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.

He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.

You sat in silence as he started to speak.

“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.

The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”

Silence.

“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”

A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-

“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.

“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.

This should not be turning me on, shit.

“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”

His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?

“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”

Oh Clint sounds fun.

“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”

He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.

“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.

“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.

“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.

“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.

“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.

“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.

Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.

Ok right back to it. Got it boss.

“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.

“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.

Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.

“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.

He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”

“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.

“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.

“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”

“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.

“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.

“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.

Shit.

“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.

“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.

“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.

He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.

“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.

“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.

That’s a new one.

“Uh, say $180?” You respond.

“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.

He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”

You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.

They were hundreds.

“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.

“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.

You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”

“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.

“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”

“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.

“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.

“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”

There it is.

“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.

“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.

“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.

“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.

Fuck me running.

“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.

He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.

“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.

“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.

You say nothing.

He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.

“Would you?” He asks softly.

“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.

“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.

“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.

He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.

Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.

His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.

“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.

“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.

He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.

Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.

————

A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘

I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.

Tags:

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @scrynexxtins @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @cashhvi @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @fand0mskullfa1ry @1-800-bxrnes @amiets2 @aliabhatt19 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianstanswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp

[thedarkdisgrace]

Random thread from twitter I made about Chuuya, who he is, with quotes from Storm Bringer:

“Don’t act like you’re the good guy here, Verlaine. Yeah, this researcher’s a piece of shit, but you’re the one who killed my friends.” Chuuya smacked himself in the chest. “I can feel their lives burning right here inside me and till those flames die down, I can’t just do whatever I want. I’m gonna do what I need to do. That’s who I am.”

….

“The light in his eyes was determination. It was the powerful brilliance of humankind, something gained only through encounters and partings with other people.”

“You’ve been completely wrong from the very start,” Chuuya spat in disgust. “‘Being born was a mistake’? Sounds like the kind of garbage Dazai would spew, and no way in hell am I ever gonna think the way he does!”

—

Chuuya being brutally tortured by N only minutes before the above quotes take place but all he cares about is avenging his friends.

Chuuya doesn’t let Verlaine push his views onto him. Chuuya knows who he is & he’ll suffer anything to protect those he cares about & he believes people are *worth it all*.

Also Chuuya sacrificing his last chance to confirm he’s human (which we know he is human by the epilogue) to save the city without even giving it that much thought when even *Dazai* thought it was important to consider. Dazai was willing to sacrifice the city if Chuuya chose to find out if he’s human. But it took Chuuya less than 30 seconds to sacrifice his own wants to activate corruption for the first time & save the city.

“Right as he had made his way down three steps, he heard a refreshing clank from behind. It sounded like someone had just leaped off a metal plank. The moment Dazai realized what the sound was, he looked back in surprise. There was nobody on top of the platform anymore.

After staring in mute amazement for a brief moment, his lips eased into a smile.

‘Show-off.’ ”

Chuuya also saved the city again in Dead Apple without any real guarantees (aside the skk soulmateism bond and mind reading) that Dazai wasn’t dead & would be able to nullify corruption. But he used corruption and fought that dragon without a second thought to save the city & Dazai yet again.

He’s also the one who saved the ADA initially from the Hunting Dogs (on orders of course but still) and is the only reason Dazai survived Meursault.

Chuuya will always suffer for & sacrifice himself for the people he cares about & the city he wants to protect.

That’s who he is & I love him for that intense passion, love & care. He deserves nothing less than the same care in return. I love Chuuya Nakahara

(Oh, friendly reminder Chuuya was 16 in Storm Bringer when he went through all that 🙃)

[brittle-doughie]

Playing hide with the beasts would either be the most terrifying and fun thing in the world, change.my.mind

(Also thank you for liking my stuff AAAAA-😩😭✨💖😤)

Hiding Y/N, Seeking Beasts (The Five Beasts)

Yeah, man. I thought it was some pretty neat stuff :]

Shadow Milk Cookie will try to lure you out with whatever he can come up with. He won’t sweat it too much as he looks around the area, but it’s for the best that you don’t poke fun at him for not finding you. He can and will put more effort into trying to find you by placing various dolls and such that will alert him if they spot you. Don’t always believe that he doesn’t know where you are. He might just know more then you think…

Eternal Sugar Cookie is more straightforward, gunning for whatever source of noise that’s emitted, taking any chance on the possibility of finding you there. She’ll offer you loads of cuddles and kisses if you make yourself known, she was going to do so anyway, but the sooner the better! She might even hide away for a little bit among the clouds, making you believe that she’s gone only to swoop down toward you once you’re out in the open. Keep moving, Eternal Sugar will always be hunting you.

Burning Spice Cookie isn’t about patience, he’ll try to increase the heat of the air in a certain area in a bid to draw you out. It has a particularly significant range radius, so when the air starts to get warm, that’s your cue to go to a different hiding spot, he has poor reaction time as he’s too distracted letting everything burn, so it should be fairly easy to move between spots. He’ll always be slowly moving about, so change spots often! What’s the matter, is he too hot for you?

Mystic Flour Cookie is a bit more..extreme with her methods. If she can’t locate you and if the game is out in open land, she will start to destroy aspects of the environment to limit the number of hiding spots you’ll have left. This will go on and she’ll get more aggressive with this tactic until she finds the spot you’re holding up in. Your best option is to lure her away to a different spot before rushing out of yours and relocating. She isn’t a fool, so use these distractions sparingly.

Silent Salt Cookie is another pretty straightforward seeker. It’s in their name, Silent Salt is…well silent, the only indicator that they’re in the area is the sound of their footsteps. This can work against you as you’d need to be as quiet as possible when moving, if you make a noise, they’re almost guaranteed to go and investigate it. Take a page from Mystic Flour and try to make noise elsewhere from your spot, then quietly move to another location while Silent Salt is investigating. They wise up fast, so pick a very good spot to start off with.

Winning keeps you safe from them for now…

Losing has you as their cookie for eternity! (They have a schedule, each Beast having you for a certain time in the week. They get angry if someone doesn’t hand you over on time! )

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Room Away (No More)

Part 2 of A Room Away

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!roommate!reader

Summary: Your abusive ex reaches out, and you hide it from Tim until it's almost too late.

Warnings: angst, domestic violence, abuse, assault, anxiety/panic attacks, fluff and a happy ending guaranteed!!

Word Count: 3.7k+ words

A/N: A Room Away is one of the first Tim fics I wrote and it took me a few months, but I loved writing this continuation! I hope you enjoy!🤍

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim’s thumb brushes back and forth over a nearly invisible scar on your arm as you wait for your dinner guests. Remembering that it has been days since your last nightmare and nearly a week without a migraine makes you smile, and Tim glances at you but doesn’t ask any questions. The doorbell rings and he grumbles under his breath as he leaves your side. As he opens the door to invite Angela and Wesley in, your phone vibrates beside you. Tim is giving Angela a hard time, as usual, and you take the moment when her attention isn’t on you to read the new text.

Unknown There is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.

The sentence is familiar, too familiar. You read the message again, and before you finish another comes through.

Unknown Los Angeles isn’t big enough to hide you from me.

“Are you okay?” Angela asks.

You lock your phone quickly and clear your throat before you look up at her and nod. The message repeats over and over in your head. Your phone may not know who sent the text, but you do, and knowing that your ex is in the same city as you terrifies you. Deep down, you know you should tell Tim, but you can’t.

“How’s Timothy treating you?” Angela adds.

She sits beside you, and you try to forget about the text for now. “He still won’t reduce my rent,” you complain jokingly.

Tim watches you from his spot in the kitchen. The last few weeks have been good. Your nightmares are becoming less frequent, you let Tim touch you without flinching or panicking, but the look on your face right now isn’t right.

“How are things?” Wesley asks. “Need a prenup, yet?”

“Funny, Wesley,” Tim replies without looking away from you. “I hope Angela cleans you out in the divorce.”

“He can keep the kids,” Angela adds from beside you.

“Good luck getting rid of me,” Wesley says. He lowers his voice and turns away from Angela to ask, “Seriously, Tim, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Things are good, great even. I just don’t want to do anything that makes us go backward.”

“Abusive relationships are hard to get over, but you’re helping her with that, Tim.”

“I hope so.”

“Wasn’t a question, Sergeant.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he puts your favorite food on a plate. It isn’t often that Angela and Wesley come over, but right now, Tim wishes he was alone with you so he could check on you. You don’t seem to hide things from him on purpose, and he understands the time it takes to trust people after having your trust betrayed and being abused. He’ll never push, but the moment you pull, he’s there. Never more than a phone call or a room away.

“Here you go,” Tim murmurs as he passes you a plate.

Your shoulders tense as he nears you but drop just as quickly. The jumpiness is something that was completely gone just yesterday, and Tim furrows his brows as he watches you accept the plate and look out the window. He runs a finger over your jawline to bring your attention back to him, and you smile at him.

“You alright?” he asks.

It seems to be everyone’s question tonight, and you once again lie, “Yeah.”

Tim nods and you thank him for the food before moving to sit by Angela. With his eyes on you throughout dinner, Tim decides that something is wrong, and he needs to get to the bottom of it. You open up as the night continues, yet when Angela and Wesley leave, you fall silent as you clear the table.

“Hey,” Tim calls softly.

He wraps a kind hand around your wrist to stop you, and you flinch away from him involuntarily. Tim raises his hands, and you drop your chin toward your chest and fight the tears threatening to spill. You’re scared because of the text, but that is no reason to move away from Tim. As you struggle not to panic, Tim whispers that everything is okay.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.

Tim shakes his head to remind you that you never have to apologize. You step closer and pinch his shirt between your fingers before wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Strong arms settle over your back, and you push your cheek over Tim’s heart.

“I’m just feeling off, or something,” you say. “Please don’t worry about me.”

Tim hums and moves a hand to brush your hair away from your face. He won’t agree not to worry about you, and it’s too late to pretend like he’s not already doing just that.

The next few days pass slowly, and as you continue to spend more time at home, Tim’s concerns grow. You’re up and moving around, so it’s not a migraine, but you haven’t worked more than eight hours in three days. Every time Tim sees you at home, he hugs you, kisses you, and silently reminds you that he’s right beside you, but you keep up your act that nothing is wrong. It’s a failing façade, though, and you’re just waiting to break.

When you wake just after 1 in the morning, you can’t stop the scream that escapes. Your ex was in your room, in Tim’s home, and when he was done with you he was going to cross the hall and do the same to Tim. Of all the nightmares you’ve had, seeing Tim moments away from being hurt was the scariest of them all. You pull your knees up to your chest and drop your head as you sob, your panicked scream making way for the fear you’ve been burying since you got the text.

Tim comes in without question or knocking, and when your door hits the wall, you lift your head and flinch to the other side of your bed. At the sight of Tim, however, you launch yourself toward him and let him pull you close. You cry against his chest as he whispers comforting promises, but the only thing that helps you is the tangible reminder that he is safe. You tell yourself over and over, clutch his shirt, and listen to his heartbeat. He’s safe, and he won’t let anything happen to either one of us.

As he holds you, Tim keeps you as close as possible. He knows that you shouldn’t ask questions now. Not that you’d give him an honest answer anyway, he thinks. Whatever you’ve been hiding is making you scared, and it breaks Tim’s heart to see you affected this way. Waking up to your scream scared him, so he can only imagine what must be going through your mind.

Unknown I saw the planetarium today. Can you see it from your new home?

Unknown Met a girl in the supermarket who looked like you. But I won’t settle for second best.

Unknown Clues, clues, clues. Am I getting closer, baby?

With each new text you receive, you have to talk yourself out of running from Tim. You don’t want to pull away from him, but you constantly worry that if you’re found, Tim will be in danger, too. A knock on your door draws your attention away from the newest message, and Tim smiles when you meet his eyes.

“Want to go to lunch? Just us?” he offers.

You should say no, but you nod before standing. Nothing bad can happen in public, and being beside Tim is the safest place to be, you think. Even as you try to convince yourself that going to lunch will be fine, you can feel the fear and anxiety building in your chest. It weighs down on you and makes it hard to breathe, so you measure each breath and focus on Tim instead of the adrenal responses flooding your body.

Tim turns into a random subdivision and slows down. You raise your brows and look at him, but he only offers a hand extended over the console. When you lay your hand over his, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls your hand closer to him. He makes another turn, and you realize that he’s not taking a shortcut to the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” you inquire quietly.

“I don’t want to push you too hard or too soon,” he says. “But something is bothering you, and I can’t help if you stop talking to me.”

“Tim, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been feeling off.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass.”

“What will pass? Pushing me away and blocking me out won’t fix whatever is happening!”

“And telling you will?” you ask. You’re getting defensive because you’re scared, and you try to pull your hand away so you can stop talking to him.

“Why did you ever let me in if it was just going to end like this? I’m with you, but why can’t you trust me enough to tell you what’s making you scream in the middle of the night and jump when I walk up behind you?”

“Because he can threaten me all he wants, but I don’t want Brent to find you too!” you snap.

“Brent?” Tim asks lowly. He pulls his hand away and sets his jaw to ask, “Brent who?”

You shrink in the passenger seat and whisper his last name. Tim’s brakes squeal as he presses the pedal to the floor and parks on the side of the road. You can tell without looking at him that he’s angry, and you slipping up and saying your ex’s name certainly didn’t help.

“Get out,” Tim orders.

“Are you serious?” you whisper brokenly.

“Out of my truck. Now.”

You slide out of the passenger seat and close the door behind you. Tears have been building in your eyes for a week, and you let them fall freely now. You’re scared and hurting, but Tim refuses to look at you as you stand on the curb.

“Tim, please don’t do this,” you plead through the rolled-down window.

Tim doesn’t answer, and when he shifts the truck back into drive, you know he’s serious about leaving you here.

“Tim, please!” you beg through your tears.

“Go home,” he says over the engine.

The truck pulls away from the curb where you stand, and you harshly wipe your tears away to clear your vision. As you dig for your phone, you know it’s time to take Angela up on her offer. She said to call if Tim was ever mean to you, and you think leaving you on the side of the road counts.

Tim turns around in a nearby cul-de-sac and parks behind a tree where you can’t see him, but he can keep an eye on you. He’s angry and needed a second to calm down, but he never intended to leave you. He sighs as he types the name of your ex into his phone. He’ll ask Angela to run it later. When Tim looks back up at you, you have your back to him, and your phone raised to your ear. Your shoulders shake as you cry, and Tim taps his knuckles against his steering wheel. He made you cry this time, and though he’s glad to have a few answers, he wishes this wasn’t how he got them.

After moving in, you confided in Tim that Angela told you to call her if he was ever mean to you. When her car pulls up and you climb into the passenger seat, Tim shakes his head fondly. You’re mad at him, but you’re still perfect in his eyes. Now that he knows you’re safe, Tim decides to stop by the station and do some digging on your ex.

“I think I’m going to text Tim,” you say.

“What? No! He abandoned you. Just eat your ice cream and wait for him to come and beg on his knees,” Angela replies. She points her spoon at you and adds, “You’re too good for him, anyway.”

“I think that’s the other way around.”

“Fine,” she groans. “Text him. But I’m still mad at him.”

Your text to Tim is short, a simple apology, just: I’m sorry. His response is nearly immediate, and you smile when his name pops up in the notification.

Tim I’m not mad at you. I know you’re with Angela. Want me to pick you up?

Tim You don’t have to come home if you’re not ready. Whatever you want.

Your response is a promise that what you want is to be with Tim. Angela rolls her eyes at your smile, but she’s happy for you and Tim. After all, it’s because of her that you found a place a live and met Tim. She begins to ask a question, but your ringing phone cuts her off.

“Tim?” you ask as you answer.

“When did the texts start?” he inquires.

“Uh, about a week ago, I guess.”

“Change of plans, then. Let me talk to Angela.”

You pass the phone to Angela, and she listens for a moment before she stands and walks into her bedroom. Whatever they’re talking about, they don’t want you to know about. Tim said there was a change of plans, which sounds suspiciously like he won’t be taking you home tonight. The panic from earlier returns slowly as you wonder if he’ll ever let you go home again.

“Your boyfriend wants to talk,” Angela says, cutting through your doubt as she returns your phone.

“Sorry,” Tim begins. “I looked into your ex. He flew into LAX about a week ago, so the texts weren’t just threats. He’s here. And a week is a long time when you’re trying to find someone. I want you to stay at Angela’s tonight, okay?”

“Are you- are you working tonight?” you ask softly.

“I am now. Brent’s got an arrest warrant, and the threats he sent you make him a higher priority. We’re gonna look for him. We will find him,” Tim promises.

“Be careful, Tim.”

“I will. I have to get home to you, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll call you later and check in. Let Angela know if you get more texts, please.”

“I will. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“I promise I’m not mad at you.”

“I know,” you murmur. “See you later, Tim.”

Tim’s decision to drive by his house before he starts looking for your abusive ex was both a precaution and about Kojo. The house looks exactly as it had when he left with you for lunch, and Tim puts Kojo in the front seat of his shop before driving toward Angela and Wesley’s house. If Brent goes to his house to find you, both you and Kojo will be safe and sound with Angela Lopez prepared to defend you. There aren’t many people Tim trusts, but when you called Angela, he knew you made the right choice. It’s the one he would have made, too.

Kojo pushes past Angela to meet you when she opens the door. You happily invite him into your lap and hug him tightly. He soothes your nerves without trying, and you loosen your grip on him only to look up at Tim.

“Nothing yet,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m a call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Tim,” you reply.

He lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles as he promises, “I’ve got you.”

“Where’s your car?” Angela asks you.

“I just moved it. Public parking off Sepulveda,” Tim answers for you. “He doesn’t seem like the smartest guy in the world, but, just in case.”

“He’s not,” you agree.

Tim slowly pulls his hand away before he leaves again, and you lean closer to Kojo for his comfort. Angela disappears into her bedroom again a few minutes later and returns in a rush.

“I have to go. There’s been a homicide,” she explains. “I called Tim and he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Don’t answer the door for anyone; he and Wesley have keys.” She slows to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go solve a homicide.”

She rushes out the front door and locks it behind her, but you stand and double-check it anyway. Your phone is empty of notifications, and you can only wait until Tim arrives. After you settle beside Kojo again, you give him your attention. You and he freeze simultaneously when your phone chimes on the coffee table.

Unknown Walk outside or you will cost them everything.

You read it twice before you realize what he’s asking you to do. The moment you step out in the open, he can do anything and everything he wants. But you look around and see the life Tim and Angela have built for themselves and know that you can’t do anything to jeopardize that or their safety. So, you quickly shepherd Kojo into a bedroom and lock the door before slowly flipping the locks on the front door and stepping out into the Los Angeles night. The sun recently set, but there’s enough light you can see someone standing at the corner of the yard. Tim can’t be more than a few minutes away, but his thirty-minute estimation feels like an eternity.

“Los Angeles,” Brent says before laughing. “I knew you’d run somewhere you could hide but the city of angels? You, baby, were never going to fit in here.”

“What do you want?” you ask, willing your voice to be strong.

Brent smiles and you take a step back as he moves closer. You stumble against the sidewalk behind you, and Brent surges forward to wrap a cruel hand around your arm. He twists your skin with his grip, and everything about his touch is the opposite of Tim’s. For the first time since you met Brent, you fight back. Your free hand makes contact with his jaw, but he recovers quickly and shoves you to the ground.

Pulling your knees up, you try to create momentum to knock Brent off of you, but he pushes your legs down and shoves the heel of his hand between your ribs. The air is driven from your lungs, but you know you can’t stop fighting. When Brent moves his hands, so one is holding your face and the other is reaching for something in his waistband, you panic. You need Tim, but he’s a call away, and you left your phone inside.

“Domestic dispute and assault in progress at…”

Tim doesn’t hear anything past Angela’s address, and he hits the lights as he makes the final turn onto her street. Several neighbors are gathered on the opposite side of the street and watching an altercation in Angela’s front yard when he reaches the curb. A woman screams, and Tim slams the shop into park when he sees the glint of a gun being pulled. He opens the shop door and immediately ducks as a shot is fired. “L.A.P.D. Put down the weapon!” he yells from behind his open door.

He calls your name, but there’s no sound. No reply, no calls or screams from the neighbors, and Tim peeks around the door. Slowly, the gun is tossed to the side and the man, your ex, slowly clambers onto his hands and knees. When he sits back and puts his hands up, Tim has a clear view of you lying on the ground. There’s blood on your face, and you’re not moving, so Tim rushes forward. Two more police cars join Tim’s shop, but his complete focus is on you. He kneels beside you and pushes two fingers against your pulse point.

“I’m okay,” you whisper when you feel Tim’s skin on yours.

Tim sighs and drops his head before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your torso off the ground and into a hug. You return his tight grip as he sits on the sidewalk and holds you close. Two other officers handcuff Brent and put him in the back of a cruiser, and you’re surprised but pleased with the lack of threats directed toward you.

“Sergeant Bradford, the weapon was discharged, but the bullet was fired into a tree. CSU will gather data for ballistics,” an officer tells Tim quickly.

His grip tightens on you at the mention of the gunshot, and you sigh against his shoulder. As you lean up, he gets a better look at the bruise under your jaw and the fresh blood pooling against the older, dried blood under your nose. He moves you gently so he can stand and calls for a paramedic.

“Tim, I’m fine,” you say with a painful chuckle.

“Respectfully, I want a second opinion,” he replies. “And then we’re going home.”

“Don’t forget Kojo.”

“I’ll get him.”

“Oh, you may need a key.”

Tim furrows his brows at you but doesn’t ask what you’re talking about as he lowers beside you again. His hand in yours distracts you from the pokes and prods of the paramedics, and your mind is no longer anxious and scared, but excited to go home and remind Tim how much you appreciate his protectiveness.

Tim doesn’t let you out of his sight or his hold from the moment you enter his house. He pulls you against him and sits on the couch, inviting Kojo to join you. You’re finally okay, and it makes it easier for both you and Tim to show the affection you’ve been avoiding.

“I don’t want to be a call away anymore,” Tim confesses softly. “Not a room away… I need to be right beside you.”

“Tim, I only asked for the separation because I had to have it. Thinking that he would come after me was concerning, but the closer I got to you, the more worried I was he’d hurt you, too.”

“I understand that, but it’s over now. So, it’s your choice again.”

You nod and tilt your bruised face up from Tim’s chest to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be a room away either,” you whisper.

Tim smiles and brushes a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before withdrawing his touch from your face. He kisses you gently, a series of pecks more than a real kiss, before allowing you to move closer.

As you fall asleep in Tim’s arms, you’ve never felt more at home. His touch, his presence, his protectiveness, and his care make him special, and he’s the best roommate-turned-more you could have asked for.

“I love you,” Tim whispers, and you wake up faster than ever.

[eucalyptus-lvs]

Your Girl? - Carmen Berzatto x Reader

When I first started writing this it was going to be a stand-alone, but I could also see it as a pt. 2 to Good Luck Charm. Either way, I hope you enjoy it. If you have any thoughts or constructive criticism it's always appreciated. May not be the most canon portrayal of Carmy, but after S3 I need some happy moments. - Elli <3

TW: None. Maybe a suggestive comment or two.

Walking into The Beef you’re immediately hit with the smell of fresh bread and cooked meat. Before you can even make it to the counter Richie's face breaks into a bright smile as he spots you. "You're not supposed to be in today. Couldn't stay away from me, sweetheart?"

Most people found him to be rough around the edges, maybe even misogynistic, but you preferred to think of him as old-fashioned. 

The two of you grew close in the time you spent working together.

Although you started as a dishwasher, Mikey had switched you to the front after two weeks of working there when Richie almost made a kid cry for trying to order a hotdog with ketchup. You quickly learned that your new job was about keeping the peace and making things run as smoothly as the people around you would allow. 

Regardless, it was hard to see the man in front of you as a bad guy after watching him get on his knees to put a Hello Kitty bandaid on Eva's hand at a time when she was adamant about being “champion of the monkey bars”.

"Oh, I never wanna be away from you, honey." You share a laugh. "I just came by to drop something off for the boss. Then I'll be on my way."

"He's in the back if you wanna go on through."

"So I can get sucked into the vortex of chaos on my day off? I don't think so." The fighting has slowed down a bit at the restaurant, but it was still pretty busy. Guaranteeing that the energy level was always high. 

"Good point. I’ll tell him you're here." 

“Thanks, Rich.” You move to stand off to the side in a less crowded part of the restaurant. Taking out your phone, you check the time as you watch him retreat into the back. 

If you make this quick you can still get to the coffee place a couple blocks over before it closes for the day.

After a moment you see them both enter from the kitchen. Richie goes back to the register to attend to the customers, while Carmy heads your way.

"Hey. Richie said you had somethin' for me?" Wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it over his shoulder as he approached you. “Everything okay?”

"Yeah. I was getting ready this morning and saw this on the bathroom counter." You reach into your pocket to pull out a gold chain.

His gold chain.

Dangling between you both from your fingers.

"Shit, I don't even remember takin' it off." Grasping it from your hand to undo the clasp and put it on.

"That's because I did right before we got in the shower. I'm surprised it's still together with all the wear and tear you put it through."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for droppin’ it off. I coulda stopped by tonight though. After I close up?" The phrasing of his statement sounding more like a question.

"I was close by. I wanted to try that coffee shop down the street I was telling you about." You took a step toward him and whispered, "As for tonight, you know I want you over, but we're gonna have to make an effort to get some actual rest before we both develop a sleeping disorder."

"You seem to be doin’ just fine.” A grin broke out on his face.

"Did you forget the part where I told you I have to go get coffee?" You reminded disapprovingly.

"Okay, I get it. Sleep sounds really fuckin' good right now actually." He ran a hand through his hair as he paused. "You eat somethin' already?"

You break eye contact to look around the room aimlessly and avoid the question until your eyes land back on him. “....Huh?”

“We talked about this. You can’t starve yourself all day and then do your fuckin’ girl dinner shit when you get home.”

“First of all, you will never know the joys of girl dinner because you refuse to participate. It's the most well-balanced meal I'm capable of. Second, I've been running around all day and I forgot.”

“First of all, the fact that you call a plate with butter noodles, kimchi, a hard-boiled egg, and some red cherries ‘the most well-balanced meal you're capable of’ is scary. It's really fuckin’ scary. Second, I know you're busy. I'm a chef! What kinda asshole do I look like lettin’ my girl eat like that because you refuse to let me cook you somethin’?” He shot back, growing exasperated with the topic at hand.

“It literally covers all the major food groups! Wait-” You paused, tilting your head. Only just processing his full statement. “your girl?”

You can see the exact moment he processes it too. His eyes widened in panic. “Uh I-I meant, I mean we’ve kinda been-”

“Oh my god, you poor baby boy. You're blushing.” A smirk grows on your face.

“Fuck off” His eyes focusing on the floor, shaking his head. The heavy blush spread up his neck as well as his face.

“I'm afraid I can't do that at this particular moment, but maybe we both will later after you ask me to be your girlfriend.” You replied in a sing-songy voice. “Yknow for future reference you typically ask someone when you want to be exclusive with them.”

He leaned closer to you, eyebrows furrowing as he lowered his tone so he wouldn't be overheard. “I-I thought we've been exclusive. I haven't seen anyone else since you.” 

“I haven't either, but I guess if you want it to stay that way you're gonna have to ask me and make this official. Unless,” You lean away, kissing your teeth as you cross your arms. “you're too scared?”

“You know what? I'm not gonna ask.”

“Wow, you've already backed out. You sure there's not some other girl I should know about?” You mocked, knowing he barely had the time and energy to keep up with you. 

Even if he did, you knew there was no one else. Spending most of your nights at each other's place testing new recipes or wrapped up together in the early hours of the morning before the restaurant needed attending. 

That's why it never occurred to you to define what this is. He was making an active effort to have a life outside of the restaurant and he was doing it with you. 

That doesn't mean you couldn't enjoy making him sweat a little though.

“What?! No. I'm not asking because you're gonna ask me.”

“I’m gonna ask you to be my girlfriend?”

“No, smart-ass.” He let out a breathy chuckle, gesturing vaguely. “Your yknow- boyfriend.”

“Well, that's never gonna happen.” You stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why not?”

“Because you're right. I should get a boyfriend that’ll take care of me and all my food-related needs.” Shrugging your shoulders you wave a hand in the direction of the register. Shouting, “RICH-”

“Stop.” He cut you off, raising his hand. “That's not even funny.”

“Oh, come on. It's a little funny.” You giggle, nudging his arm with your hand.

Shaking his head, he leads you to a table to sit down. “I've gotta get back in there.” Leaning close to your ear he whispers, “Sit tight while I make somethin’ for my girl.” Cupping the underside of your jaw with his calloused hand, he places a quick kiss on your cheek before walking off. 

You smile as you watch him disappear past the doors and back into the kitchen. 

You weren't gonna make it to the coffee shop today, but that was okay. Maybe you could go together on your way to work tomorrow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Richie came up and put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing. “You call for me?”

You put your hand over his and squeezed back. Looking up at him you replied, “Just fuckin’ with Carm.”

“Good girl.”

[carlsangel]

TASTE (PART TWO)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(carl loves to make you feel good.)

tags: smut, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering

masterlist here!

read my series here!

READ PART ONE HERE!!!

“I had no idea this is what you meant.” His thumb grazed your lips, gently back and forth while you stared at each other in awe. You smile a little bit, still looking up at him while withholding the urge to take his thumb in your mouth once more. He knows what he wants to do to you now. You obviously do too, I mean you’re the one who just sucked on his thumb.

You do your best to keep yourself under control. You’ve obviously messed around before but, right now everything seemed heightened. Especially noticing how attractive his hands were—you were done for. “Please Carl.” You plead, slowly backing up a bit on the bed to give him room to do what you want. You looked down at his hands which were at his sides and could help but want his fingers inside you. He knew it, you knew it, so why not?

He was incredibly baffled, however. It took him a moment to snap out of it. “Yeah. Right. Of course.” He mumbled, moving closer to start off with kisses on your lips. They’re gentle at first, but the pressure of his mouth against yours slowly builds, till eventually his tongue is in your mouth. The both of you let out small moans at the feeling of your tongues massaging each others. You’re still propped up on the palms of your hands, meanwhile your legs are spread wide enough for Carl to sit between while sitting on his knees to make out with you.

Although you rearrange because he begins to tug down the shorts you were wearing while you were still connected at the mouth. You were both breathing heavily and the tension was only getting thicker, not to mention you were getting wetter and he was definitely rock hard. But, he wanted this to be about you. He understands your feelings towards his hands, so, he’ll put them to good use.

Once your shorts were off he pulled back to look at you. Just seeing you with your swollen lips, pleading eyes and also your soaked underwear. You were absolutely beautiful. You both adjust and you’re laid back against the pillows, meanwhile Carl is propped up between your legs and swarming your neck in kisses. His hand falls from your neck, to your chest to gently paw at your tits before slowly grazing your stomach to reach your panties. He smiles a little against our neck as your breathing falters at the feeling of his fingers against your clothed cunt.

He can’t wait to make you feel amazing. He starts to gently rub at you over your underwear, his fingers making tight circles around your clit. The noises that spill from your mouth are so beautiful it makes him want to move them faster, but he wants to prolong this feeling for you. “I-it’s good right? You feel good?” He mumbles against your neck. You almost laugh at how he’s unsure. “Mhm—oh fuck, yeah it’s really good.” You tell him, his pride growing a bit knowing how good he’s rubbing at you.

He takes it a step further, lifting his fingers back to your mouth. He slides his middle and ring finger into your mouth and against your tongue. “This okay?” He asks gently. You nod, and suck at his fingers, letting them roam your mouth as you coat them with saliva. After a moment, he slides them back out your mouth and beneath the soaked cotton, over your flesh. You moan louder, prompting him to lean his head back from your neck to see you. You’re such a mess but to him you’re still so pretty. His fingers slip around your sensitive spot and he smashes his lips onto yours, muting any moans that were guaranteed to come out if he hadn’t. You pull away which almost made him whine because kissing you is his favorite activity. After fingering you obviously. But anyway, you pull away to plead for more. You needed more.

“Carl I wanna feel it inside.” He looks back at you and studies your face. It takes him a moment before he fully gets it. “Okay. Yeah let’s do that.” He slides your underwear off your legs and props them open, the sight of you making him even harder than he already was. If that was even possible. He lays down between your legs, confusing you but you don’t particularly mind. You know that whatever he has in store will make you feel amazing.

He leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit and sucks softly, prompting you to moan louder and grab at his hair tightly. He lifts his fingers, sliding one into your tight hole, his second finger following shortly after. It was all so overwhelming, the suction at your nerves and his fingers curling against you. It began to be so much but you wanted to hold it.

So you did, you tried your best to take it all without cumming too quick. He didn’t make it easy, though. He curled his fingers inside you, yet also moaned against your folds, pushing you closer and closer to letting go.

It wasn’t until his fingers were practically all the way inside of you, hitting that gummy spot deep inside. It was just perfect. For you and him. Your moans were so fulfilling to him. “Don’t stop—please don’t stop I’m gonna cum.” You whine, causing him to smile internally but he moves quicker, his fingers abusing the special spot. He’s practically slurping at the juices of your wet cunt, the noise of it as well as his moans finally pushing you over.

Your final moan and the feeling of you clenching around his fingers told him to slow down, but still keeping the sensation consistent so you could ride out your orgasm. Your grip on his hair loosened, and your breath began to slow. He presses a gentle kiss to your clit, causing you to twitch a little before removing his fingers.

You both look at each other, somewhat in disbelief. He crawls up to give you a brief kiss on the lips but pulls back to give you an innocent smile.

“You treat me so well.” You giggle.

“I just wanted a taste.”

a/n: so a good amount of people have been wanting a part two, so i wrote one! a lot of people in the discord, also u should join that if you want you should dm me if u want an invite :)) okay that’s it i love you BYE!!!!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @sstar-ggirl

[eilaafterhours]

Wedding Night [Xavier]

Content: Smut, Fast Burn, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, AFAB Reader, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None (AFAB)

Prequel: Marital Duties

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

Remember: I’ll block you if I catch your ageless or under age (not 18+) ass in my activity! 1850 blocked and counting :)

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You didn’t know how you ended up here. First you were having dinner with a long-time friend, then suddenly you were married, and now…

“Hah…they’re so soft. I love holding them, but I especially” His mouth descended on your nipple, giving it a good suck. “Love putting them in my mouth.”

In just a few words, Xavier had carried you to the bedroom, stripped you both down and was on you like a man starved. Well, almost starved. Someone who was starving wouldn’t waste the time to talk, but Xavier—

“Well, you let me do this whenever I want?”

“When…whenever?”

“Yeah, for example,” He (somehow) removed himself from your chest, moving up to whisper in your ear. “In an empty room in the office?” 

“Fuck!” Honestly, you weren’t sure on actually doing that, but just the thought of it was inciting enough. 

You felt him smirk against your ear. “Do you like that?” He finally moved away from you, hands sliding away from your breast and down to your stomach. 

“I wonder…” You tensed up, afraid (see: excited) for what he would say next. “Just how far I’ll reach…” 

Your whole body flushed. From your…observations…you could tell that Xavier well-endowed, but now—

“You’re gonna split me in half?!” You gasped, slapping your hands over your face. 

You did not mean to say that out loud. 

Xavier chuckled. “I doubt it, but…”

“But what!”

“I can’t guarantee that it won’t hurt, but—” He moved again, this time his hands slide down to your thighs, gripping them softly. 

“God, you’ve got to let me lay on your thighs, will you?”

“You’ve already done that.” You swatted his hand from one of your thighs. “Stop getting distracted and finish your sentence!” 

“I meant bare?” His hand returned, grip more intense. “Please?” 

“I’m about to make you do it now, with no chance of anything else after, if you don’t—woah!”

Xavier had (damn near) folded you in half. Your legs were thrown over his shoulders, and—

“Fuck—Xavier, slow down!” Your words (thankfully) fell on deaf ears. Instead, he pushed your thighs closer to his head, as he (very sloppily) ate you out. 

“Fuck, you taste so good. I’d eat you out every day if I could, can I?” 

“If I could, I’d be right here, between your thighs, and eating you out.”

“Fuck—shit! God, I’d do anything you’d want, just as long as I can have you. Even if it’s only one more time—even if this is the last time.” 

Your head become more fuzzy as the pressure built in your lower abdomen until—

“Fuck!” You know that soaked his face, but you weren’t honestly expecting his hot pleasure to make itself known on your back. You didn't have to worry about that for long, though. 

Flipping you again, Xavier made quick work of not only your mess, but his own. However, he gave you no break, as he was truly a man staved. When he lifted your hips, you knew exactly what was about to go down, so you steeled yourself, gathering what energy you could, and braced yourself for the ride. 

And what a fucking ride it was. 

You thought it’d be one and done, but after the third time, you were beginning to suspect that he was truly insatiable. He ran you ragged, but at least the decorum to run you a bath (before immediately conking out in it). As you sat in the cooling water, you wondered,

Just what had you gotten yourself into by marrying this man?

…I do not take responsibly for this man's mouth. That was all him. This mfker is almost as bad as Sampo. (IYKYK, go find it in my works lmao)

Anyway, I said I'd maybe do this a while ago, and now here it is, since they've decided to drop some HORNY ASS CARDS.

Masterlist

[cherryredlove]

☆ you spin me right round ☆

Modern! Record shop owner! au Aemond Targaryen x Bar owner! reader SMUT

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• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

You're the blooming business owner that owns the chic new bar in town, The Alchemist's Guild. All that's left to do is befriend your sourpuss neighbour, the cool owner of the music shop Targaryen Tracks. Maybe a crisis will do the trick?

Word Count: 1.9k

Themes: SMUT, 18+, rough oral smex, pearl necklace, sex in semi-public place

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Owning a bar was always a dream of yours, and now that dream has finally come true. The place you purchased is a hidden gem on the artsy quarter of the city of King's Landing, nestled between eclectic shops and quirky businesses, with just enough foot traffic to guarantee interest. You’ve christened it The Alchemist’s Guild, and you hoped it'll become the hottest bar in the area soon.

Every bottle and glass has been carefully selected, and you’ve spent countless hours transforming the run-down space into a chic, cosy haven for anyone seeking to unwind. Edison bulbs hang from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden surfaces and plush seating. The shelves behind the bar are stocked with an impressive array of gins and wines, and the scent of fresh herbs and citrus fills the air.

The only hurdle now? Making friends with the neighbours, particularly the one who runs the music shop next door, Targaryen Tracks.

You’ve seen him a few times, Aemond Targaryen, always dressed impeccably in black, with silver hair and an ever-present scowl etched onto his face. His shop is a world of its own, filled with vintage records and obscure music that you occasionally hear through the walls.

Today, after a couple of good days of business, you decide it’s time to introduce yourself properly. Maybe you can even convince him to partner up for some musical collaborations, adding a unique touch to your bar’s atmosphere. With a deep breath, you step into Targaryen Tracks, the door chiming softly as you enter.

Aemond looks up from behind the counter, his single blue eye meeting yours with a curious, almost guarded expression. He nods in acknowledgement, though his lips barely form a smile.

"Hi, I’m Y/N," you say, offering a friendly smile. "I just opened the bar next door, The Alchemist’s Guild. Thought I’d come by and say hello."

"Aemond," he replies curtly, giving you a once-over before returning his gaze to the record he’s examining.

The shop is a paradise for any music lover, with rows upon rows of records neatly organized by genre and era. The atmosphere is nostalgic, and you can’t help but feel a pang of admiration for the meticulous care he’s put into curating his collection. You too take great pride in organisation and decoration.

You take a moment to look around, pretending to browse. The silence stretches between you, and you rack your brain for something to say, anything to break the ice.

"You’ve got quite the collection here," you venture, picking up a random record and pretending to study it. "I’ve been thinking about hosting some vinyl nights at the bar. You know, set up a record player, get some more out there stuff playing."

Aemond’s eye flickers with mild interest as he raises an eyebrow. "That so?"

You nod eagerly, hoping to engage him further. "Yeah! I think it’d be great to have something a bit more unique than just playlists. It’s a vibe, you know?"

He studies you for a moment, considering your words. "I suppose it could work," he admits, a hint of intrigue in his tone. "What kind of records are you looking to play?"

"Honestly, I’m open to anything that sets the right mood," you reply with enthusiasm. "Jazz, blues, rock, maybe even some classical if it fits."

Aemond nods, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I might have a few recommendations."

A spark of hope flickers inside you. Perhaps this sourpuss neighbor of yours isn’t as aloof as he seems. Maybe there's a chance for some collaboration after all.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Business at The Alchemist’s Guild is booming. You’ve managed to create a buzz around town, and the place is packed almost every night. The combination of exquisite drinks and the cosy atmosphere has made your bar a go-to spot for many locals and visitors alike. It's become a favourite with the artsy scene in the quarter, putting you firmly on the map.

But tonight, as you’re hosting bustling Saturday evening, disaster strikes. The trusty sound system crackles and dies with a sad whimper. Panic sets in as you realize that without music, the bar loses a significant part of its charm.

As the clamor of conversation fills the air, you frantically fiddle with the cables and speakers, hoping for a miracle. But nothing works.

Just when you're about to lose hope, an idea strikes.

"Hold down the fort for me, Dyana!" You call out to the bartender you employed.

You dash out of the bar and head straight to Targaryen Tracks, where Aemond is about to close up for the night.

Aemond looks up at you as you barge into the shop, mildly surprised to see you so flustered.

"Aemond, I need a huge favour," you blurt out, trying to catch your breath. "My sound system just broke down, and I have a packed bar with no music. Can you help me out?"

He pauses. "What do you need?"

"Your records," you say quickly, hope rising in your chest. "And your record player and speakers. Just for tonight. I’ll give you free drinks for a week in return."

He narrows his eye, contemplating the offer. After a moment, he nods. "Fine. But you handle the equipment with care."

Relief floods through you. "Thank you, thank you so much! I promise I'll be careful. You can even handle changing the records if that's better. "

Together, you gather a selection of records, and Aemond helps you carry them over to the bar. With his expertise, you set up the record player, and soon, the rich, warm tones of vinyl fill the space, transforming the atmosphere instantly.

The patrons love it, and you can feel the tension leaving your shoulders as the night goes on smoothly. True to your word, you offer Aemond a drink on the house as a gesture of gratitude. He graciously accepts your Greyjoy Gin and tonic with a small smile.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

As the night draws to a close, the last of your customers finally trickle out, leaving the bar empty save for you and Aemond. The soft glow of the Edison bulbs casts a cosy light over the room, and the record player softly spins its last tune.

"Thank you again," you say, leaning against the bar, feeling the exhaustion of the night catching up to you. "You really saved me tonight."

Aemond shrugs, a faint smirk on his lips. "It was interesting. Your patrons seem to appreciate good music."

You laugh softly, nodding in agreement. "I owe you. Seriously, free drinks for a week."

He takes a sip of his drink, regarding you with an appraising gaze. "Maybe we can make this a regular thing. Vinyl nights, as you said. I can curate the music."

"That would be amazing," you reply, feeling your heart race a little. "I think it’d be a hit."

As you tidy up the bar, Aemond helps, and the two of you chat more easily than before. You discover that beneath his stoic exterior, he has a genuine passion for music and a dry sense of humour that you find surprisingly charming.

With the bar finally clean and ready for the next day, you both take a moment to relax, leaning against the counter again.

As the last record winds down to silence, an unexpected tension fills the air. The kind that lingers between two people until someone is brave enough to try.

It’s Aemond who makes the first move. His eye locks onto yours, and you see a flicker of something you hadn't quite noticed before. You feel your body light up.

Before you know it, he’s closing the distance between you, his presence commanding and electric. He pauses, giving you a moment to stop him if you wish, but you find yourself drawn in by the intensity of his gaze.

And then his lips are on yours, firm and insistent, sending a jolt down your spine. You kiss him back, matching his fervour with your own.

Aemond’s hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, grasping at his hair. His mouth is hot and heady, and you moan into his as his hips grind against yours.

You barely notice as you’re backed against the bar, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of the kiss. Aemond’s hands are exploring now, tracing a path down your sides, and you let out a soft sigh of approval, urging him on.

The kiss deepens, his touch is confident, and you can feel the hardness of his cock against your tender pussy. Your body reacts, arching into him to relieve your aching sex.

Aemond unzips your trousers, moaning at how wet you are, before gliding his fingers into your soaked heat. You cling to him, mewling, and bit down hard onto his neck. Aemond’s long fingers move inside you, fingering you with a beckoning motion. His eye rolls back as you grasp his cock in your hand, massaging through his trousers.

Aemond hoists you up onto the bar's counter, kissing you roughly before kneeling, facing your soaked pussy. Your hands grip his hair, urging him onto your heat. His tongue flicks out to lick your juices, and the moan you let out spurs him to bury his face.

His long nose is shoved against your clit, rubbing you in the mot perfect way as his tongue laps you expertly. Your thighs squeeze his head tightly. One of his hands grips your soft thigh hard, the other resumes its ministrations inside your tight pussy, making you choke and feel the hot lick of pleasure push you higher and higher. You grind against his face, Aemond sucking your clit with suchbvigour that you cry out, cumming hard on him. You cream against his tongue, and he laps it all up with a deep moan.

Once your head has stopped swimming at the pleasure of your high, you wobble down and fall to your knees. His thick cock sits right in front of your face, and he slowly parts your lips with the red cockhead. It's huge, you run out of mouth room pretty quickly as his hands grip your hair. You moan, the vibration making his hips stutter, and begin to suck him hard.

"Your lips look so beautiful wrapped arouud me baby," he rasps out. "I'll cum if you carry on."

Enthused, you bob your head faster, hollowing out your cheeks and rubbing your tongue right against the slit of his tip. When you fondle his balls with your hands and swallow hard, Aemond releases a strangled cry of pleasure, face-fucking you hard and fast. He lets out an unintelligible moan as he cums. Some of it leaks down your throat, but he pulls out to cum all over your face and neck. You gasp at the hot white ropes of cum that decorate your collar bone.

Panting, he helps you up, swiping his cum off with a finger and parting your lips for you to swallow it. He kisses you gently, salty and sweet.

"Want to come back to mine?" He asks, eye glinting. You nod eagerly, kissing him sweetly. His hands hold you firmly, and you thank the Gods for your sound system breaking.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: save me modern aemond targaryen save me! love writing that so gimme ur feedback and send any requests! if u like this sort of stuff check out my masterlist!

[samkerrworshipper]

hard times | awfc x reader

arsenal reader struggles with PTSD and new year’s eve is a particular struggle… but the arsenal girlies are there for her even if she doesn’t know she needs them

warnings: PTSD, anxiety, mentions of violence, mentions of guns, anxiety attacks, mentions of childhood trauma

You don’t even notice you’re shivering and tearing up under your duvet.

New Year's Eve for most people is a night of celebration, a night of partying, a night of celebrations. For you, not so much.

New year's eve ranks pretty high up on your least favourite days of the year.

Instead of being fun and full of celebrations it was a night of terror and fear.

That’s how you’d gotten under your duvet, the covers of your bed providing a very small shield from the outside world.

It wasn’t a good fix to stop the current downpour of sound around you, you’d tried it all, airpods, earplugs, music, none of it worked.

So you’d settled for clenching your palms down onto your ears, it wasn’t providing any reprieve from the noise cascading around you, but for whatever reason it felt necessary.

This wasn’t even the worst of it, you knew it was only so long until the fireworks started, and as soon as that happened it was almost a guarantee that you would be thrown into a whole different level of stress.

It had been this way since you were a kid, new years eve was a nuisance, a figment of your worst nightmares.

You wished you could go out and celebrate, that you could be normal and be happy.

But ever since your childhood, since it all happened, loud noises and bright flashing lights have always been a big struggle for you.

So, every year, you go through the same routine of hiding under your covers until it’s all over. Normally, the loud noises coming from London strike up a pretty serious anxiety attack, so you don’t bother with hurting your friends with your presence, knowing that all you will be is a burden for them on a night that is supposed to be fun.

It’s fine, you’re used to it, this year though it’s a little bit harder.

With your transfer to Arsenal in the previous January trade period you had quickly found a new family amongst the Gooners.

It was so hard for you to decline the invite to the celebrations for the evening, especially considering that almost every other holiday over the year had been spent with one or a couple of your teammates.

That was the hard part of being the only person left in your family, it was the reason for your stupid fear.

It all simmered down to one stupid night that wrecked your whole life.

Just as you had begun to become completely absorbed with the thoughts in the back of your mind, you were taken out of your trance by a quiet voice and the mattress you were sitting on flexing downwards.

“Hiya honey, you wanna come out for me?”

It’s Beth’s voice, sweet, kind, lovely Beth who definitely should not be in your apartment right now.

It makes you wonder if you are potentially dreaming, sometimes when you get really anxious delirium is a side effect.

“Beth?”

You reach down to pinch your thigh, hard, and it hurts, enough for you to be sure that you aren’t dreaming,

“Yeah hon, I’m right here.”

Her voice is enough for you to pull the covers over your head, the duvet falling into your criss crossed lap.

Beth is perched on the corner of your bed, a smile mixed with concern and care reflecting back towards you.

“What are you doing here?”

Your words are murmured, and spoken downwards towards your lap, because you can’t quite find it in you to look at your older teammate.

“It’s new years, silly, we couldn’t leave you out of the celebrations, the girls that are in town are in the kitchen.”

It’s said so nonchalantly, like this is some organised plan that has been set in stone for weeks, even though this is the first you’re hearing of it.

Suddenly, a firecracker or something goes off somewhere in the distance and your body is jolting on the bed, fresh tears accumulating in the corners of your eyes as your whole face pinches shut whilst the waves of memories wash over your body.

“I thought you guys said you were going to South Bank to do the fireworks and celebrations.”

South Bank isn’t far from your apartment, a couple of blocks south, unfortunately for you, most definitely close enough for the fireworks to be seen and heard.

“Who needs fireworks? We’d rather hang out here with you.”

It makes your jaw clench and your eyebrows furrow, they’ve cancelled their plans to come to your apartment and you aren’t completely sure why.

“Beth, why are you here?”

It’s blunt, but with everything happening and your body in survival mode you don’t have time to beat around the bush, especially with the ticking time bomb which is leading to midnight.

“Less told us that you really struggle with new years, so we’re here for you.”

You know that all of the girls on the team, whether they mention it or not, know about your past, about what happened when you were a child, what led to you moving in with Alessia when you were 14.

Unfortunately for you, she’s spending her break with her parents in New York, so your normal emotional support for nights like these was unable to make it here tonight.

Something doesn’t feel the same about having Beth, and whoever else she’d managed to congregate being here with you, especially when you were significantly vulnerable.

“Beth, I appreciate it, but I don’t want to worry you guys, head down to South Bank, just leave me be. Tonight’s pretty hard for me and I don’t feel like doing much.”

Beth scoots her body up closer to yours, close enough that she can lift her hand up and set it down on your thigh, it doesn’t go unnoticed the way you slightly flinch away from her, the jumpiness running rampant in your body due to the anxiety.

“We’re not going anywhere, we’ve got you, let us take care of you yeah, you don’t have to do anything, at all, just sit on the couch and relax.”

You want to fall directly into Beth, let her give you a big hug and never let go, but there is still a part of you trying to obtain your self dignity.

“Beth, you don’t understand, tonight's really hard for me, and I don’t want you guys to have to deal with it, it’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”

Beth’s hand moves from your thigh, upwards until it’s gently sitting on your jaw, angling your face upwards so you are looking at her.

“Let us be here for you, between myself, Vivi, Leah, Lia, Kim, Laura, Jen, Lotte I’m sure we can all figure out some way to make tonight a little bit easier for you. You don’t have to explain anything, you don’t have to talk about it, we’re just here to show you some love and help you however you need, celebrations be damned.”

It’s hard to refuse when Beth’s kind, concerned and caring eyes are reaching deep into your soul. Tonight is hard, for you it’s like walking up mount everest, and it’s not exactly like you want to break down in front of your teammates but Beth seems pretty persistent about the fact she isn’t leaving.

“After the break in, after my parents and brother were killed, any loud noises resembling guns make me have anxiety attacks, it’s why I don’t like new years.”

Beth just nods and smiles, accepting the information but deciding to let you do the explaining instead of asking questions.

“That’s understandable, anyone in your position would feel the same, I’m sure it must be pretty tough, especially considering that you are still young.”

You bit down on your tongue, nodding to Beth, it is really fucking hard, especially considering that you don’t have anyone to talk about it with, because how could anybody understand.

“It’s why I freaked out a few months ago when you guys were popping balloons after Leah’s birthday party, I can’t help it, it just sometimes comes over me and I can’t control it.”

Beth nods immediately, feeling the guilt roll into her stomach at the memory of her and Katie popping all of the balloons, Beth now recollecting how you left with Alessia almost as soon as it happened.

“Y’know after my mom died it took months for me to be able to go anywhere near a hospital, Viv had to drag me to the doctors for my yearly check up. It’s funny what grief does to us. You want to know what works best for me?”

Beth is trying to find common ground, praying that it’ll work and exceptionally glad when you give her a little nod with your chin.

“I try to distract myself, whether it’s getting Vivi to talk to me or playing a game or watching the telly, helps take my mind off things, how about we try that and see if it’ll work with you, yeah?”

The idea makes you feel a little bit funny, but you are brutally aware of the fact that Beth is trying really hard right now to help you and you really want to be good for her and show her that you can do that.

“Okay, but I need it to be quiet, please.”

Beth just smiles and nods, her layed back demeanour shining through as she stood up from the bed, extending her hand to you.

Your hand is shaking furiously, but you manage to extend it out towards her, letting her own hand steady your as she pulls you up off the bed and gently tugs you towards the door of your bedroom.

To your surprise, when you exit the room the kitchen and loungeroom of your apartment are fairly quiet.

Lia, Kim and Viv are busy in your kitchen, pouring and distributing drinks and plates of pizza. Leah, Laura and Lotte are seated on your couch, a board game of sorts set out on the table, Jen is also joined in on the game, except she’s sitting on the floor directly in front of the table.

Viv, Kim and Lia all send a big smile your way as you slowly enter the room, it’s a spectacle to you, watching the group happily enjoying themselves in your apartment on a night where they could be doing far more than just lazing around.

“Do you want to go sit down on the couch, I know for a fact Leah will be cheating, you could go keep an eye on her, or stay up here in the kitchen with us, it’s up to you.”

The couch sounded nice, and you were aware of the fact that your body was quite tired and worn down from all the stress of the night.

So you cautiously stepped over to the couch, as soon as Leah saw you walking towards her she opened her arms up big and wide for you.

You didn’t second guess it, practically throwing yourself into Leah comfy and warm embrace, her body acting as a cushion to you.

The joint pressure and warmth from the hug did wonders at lifting some of the pressure off of your chest.

“How ya feeling?”

Leah’s voice is soft, whispered directly in your ear so that nobody else hears it besides you.

“I’ve been better, but having you guys here is nice, you don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

Leah just smiled, taking a break from the monopoly game they were playing to look at you.

“It’s nothing, we’re here for you whenever you need us, just trying to make the night easier for you however we can.”

You nod gently, Leah’s arm wrapping around your torso to give you a big hug and essentially bond you to her side.

“The fireworks are the worst for me.”

Leah nods, her eyes are so understanding, there isn’t any form of humour or disgust in them, just pure interest.

“Just watch the game yeah, don’t think about the fireworks, I know it’s hard, but just try. We could put on a show for you, how about the new episode of Love Island?”

It’s a offer that you can’t decline, so Leah gets Jen to chuck her the remote, turning on the tv and flicking it directly onto your favourite show.

You relax into Leah, your body falling limp against her and using her as a pillow whilst you intently watch the tv.

It’s all going fine, or as fine as it can be until you can distantly hear a countdown coming from somewhere outside your apartment.

Almost immediately it sets off alarms inside your body, your legs and torso jolting up from the couch.

Just as you are about to rush off, most likely back under your covers or into your bathroom, Leah’s arms grab a tight hold of you, bringing you flush against her body. In a matter of seconds, Viv, Beth and Kim are all surrounding you, somehow sheltering you from the noise outside.

You feel like a feral dog, thrashing against Leah, trying to get away from her, from your teammates, from the world.

As soon as the noises hit your ears though, you stop moving, both of your palms crushing down against your ears to try and drown out the cracking and popping sounds booming from outside your window.

Leah holds you tight to her chest, even as you begin to sob and the panic begins to overtake your body, every time it happens you feel like you are going to die, like this time it’ll be the last and inevitably you know that your wrong, that unfortunately you will live to see out the next year, but it doesn’t make the whole process easy.

Suddenly your brain is crowded with thoughts, memories, sounds.

The sound of your front door being broken down, nobody hearing but yourself, giving you the opportunity to push yourself out of bed and into one of the cupboards in your wardrobe.

Then the sound of heavy feet, doors creaking, and heavy, thunderous, cacophonous gun shots.

No matter how many times you relive it, no matter how many years go by that sound will never disappear from your mind, it’s unforgettable and haunts every single one of your nightmares.

It’s all consuming, until somebody is taking a hold of your face, and staring at you directly in your eyes.

“Y/n, listen to me, you’re safe, we’re all here for you, we’re in your apartment, safe inside, nobody is here to hurt you or anybody else, you’re at home and it’s safe here.”

Kim’s captain's voice is both soothing and terrifying, the Scottish players' words are strong and coated in directness.

Once she notices that you are hearing her she continues.

“We’re here for you, we’re safe, breathe for me honey, deep breaths, you’re here, not out there, don’t worry about any of that, just look at me and breathe.”

You nod at Kim, even as the tears are streaming down your face and you are struggling to breathe, you listen to her.

“Good job, keep breathing, remember where you are, we’re all safe in here with you, nothing or nobody is going to hurt you, I swear.”

Kim’s words do wonders to help you, and with her assistance, as well as Leah’s strong hold, Laura’s hands gently massaging your scalp, Viv’s strong fingers drawing patterns all over your arms, Lotte gently rubbing the tensed up parts of your calves, Beth holding the parts of you Leah can’t and Lia and Jen both flanking kim, looking at you with the same care and concern as she is looking at you with.

It’s a team effort, but you feel completely enveloped by your teammates love and care as you come down from the panic.

“Doing so well for us y/n, it’s all over now, you;re safe, we’ve got you, we’re not going anywhere.”

You look out to the window, temporarily removing your eyes from Kim’s and realising that your captain is in fact correct, all the noises, lights and pain has stopped, the world is quiet and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

Slowly, as you become more aware of the world and your surroundings, one by one each girl gently removes themselves from you, until you’re left with just Leah, Beth and Viv, the three stragglers who are tasked with getting some food and water into you before sending you off the bed.

It’s a easy enough job, you’re spent and pliant, so Viv force feeds to a slice of pizza whilst Beth forces you to choke down some kind of electrolyte drink.

Once the two are done doting, they both leave you with a kiss on the forehead and gentle words whispered into your ear about how proud they are of you.

Leah is the one tasked with getting you into bed, and she does just that, getting you tucked properly on the covers before giving you a goodnight forehead kiss.

It feels weird watching her walk towards the door, like your being deserted, and you’ve been needy enough as it is tonight but you can’t help but reach out to Leah.

“Stay till I fall asleep, if it’s no trouble?”

Leah just nods and smiles like you’re asking her for a piece of gum, the blonde moving onto the empty side of your bed and leaving her hand flat against your back.

“You’re no trouble at all honey, we’ve got you, any time but especially on these nights.”