#soldier harry fics

[avalentina]

The Kindest Team Guy (TKTG)

Featuring: NavySeal!Harry and MilitaryBrat!Y/N, Hacker!Y/N

Containing: A LOT OF FILTH! in addition to the regularly scheduled SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST, AND TEARS.

Warnings: Military (deployment, chain of command, classified information, withheld information on loss of a family member, Military funeral, Navy Seal Funeral Traditions, Seal Quotes), death, depression, dubious intent (y/n), broken trust, and more (but this should be accurate for the teaser)

Teaser!

Harry is Seal Team 7 Alpha Team's explosives expert. He can rig and disarm any bomb configuration thrown at him. He's also responsible for Ruffles, the team's k9. Ruffles only knows commands in Italian that way only Harry can give him commands. Harry is quite often the team's rock and peacemaker, but what happens when he meets Y/N, a blurred line hacker, whose father was Seal Team 7 Alpha Team's Master Chief until he was killed in the line of duty on a highly classified mission, with no answers given to Y/N as to what happened, she took to searching for them herself. When Harry falls head over heels for this no good hacker, will he be the light that brings her out of darkness, or will it prove too tempting and pull him down with her.

Status: Part One is OUT NOW!

Sneak Peek 2 here!

[emmis15]

Bucky Barnes Jazz Bar ๋࣭ ⭑

―How did you know about this place? It's 19 years old― my hand was holding hers as she led me to a huge bar with a red sign.

Everyone was dressed elegantly, forming a long line around the place, each of them in suits or dresses, elegant shoes, and shiny jewelry, making me feel out of place as I was dressed in blue jeans, a black shirt, a dark blue blazer, and normal black shoes.

Cass looked beautiful, and for the occasion, she was so herself. She wore a long burgundy red top with a black knee-length skirt, burgundy boots, a long black leather coat, and her burgundy purse where she kept the keys to my bike and my few belongings as I didn't know where we were going.

―I have friends outside the superhero world, and my last name isn't just for death threats or kidnappings; it's also for jumping the line right now― she said with a simple smile, pulling out a white card with a golden number on it and handing it to the security guard with his arms crossed against his chest.

With a simple smile, she handed a white card with a golden number on it to the security guard, who then let us pass by moving aside the rope separating the entrance from the line. Her hand never let go of mine as she guided me through the environment of red armchairs, alcohol, tables, and a stage in front of all the seating areas.

―¿What can I help you with tonight?― a waitress approached us with her uniform and a black tray with small glasses of orange liquid with orange slices inside.

―Good evening, I'm Cassidy Stark, and I reserved a table in the upstairs area; if you could take us there, it would be excellent― she sounded so serious and kind at the same time.

A bit hypnotizing the way she interacted with others, using her privileged position to get things done, something I was used to seeing her do at the complex, albeit in a disheveled manner and always with laughter in her voice.

―Follow me, Miss Stark.

The woman started walking ahead of us, guiding the way from the ground floor, which was filled with people already sitting at tables in front of the stage, having drinks or food and patiently waiting with little chatter to avoid drowning out the smooth jazz that was playing by the live bands tonight. We stood in front of some stairs a few meters from the stage against the wall. These stairs had a ribbon like the one outside but this time with a white sign hanging from the burgundy velvet that read "VIP."

―The reservation was for table 3 next to the bay, ¿right?― she asked as she looked at something on a computer.

I didn't know anything, and I was more focused on seeing the place and its mysterious and reserved aesthetics. But as I looked around and tried to read the decorative signs hanging on the walls, I heard Cass's affirmative voice along with the clinking sound of metal.

―Let's go, Buck― she pulled my hand as she climbed the stairs, leaving the waitress behind to be just the two of us along with a few others upstairs.

We had the best view of the stage, and the lights above were closer, almost as if it weren't for the warm, red lights, we would be in the dark.

―It's a new and exclusive bar because of its mysterious nature and the few reservations it allows. People outside are waiting in case there's room inside, even to stand and be with the people listening to unknown Jazz bands, indie music actually but soft from the aesthetics of the place.

―¿Why did you do this?― I asked as I looked around.

―You need to go to places with people who aren't from your environment. It's called exposure therapy, and since you said you liked jazz, well― she gave me a small smile before we sat facing each other.

―¿So it's like a date?― I asked with a raised eyebrow.

―Something like that.

I chuckled a bit, shaking my head before turning to the candlelight in the middle of the table, casting a warm glow on Cass's face.

―¿Whiskey as usual?― she asked, taking her gaze off the menu to look at me.

―Something normal. You know I don't like those trendy drinks nowadays― I looked at her with a small smile.

―You should try something new in your drinks to know that there are more things than the harshness and pain of whiskey― she left the menu as we heard the voice of a man.

We turned to see the waiter, who was dressed like the girl before, holding a notebook and a pen.

―I'll have an espresso martini, and he'll have a whiskey The Macallan 1926, please― she sounded very firm but kind, giving him a smile.

―¿For food?

―I'll have spaghetti with bolognese ragout― she sounded so good speaking Italian that I didn't think about what I wanted to eat.

They both stared at me, waiting for my response, so I stared back at the guy, trying to compose myself.

―The same as her, thanks― I said in a deep voice.

He left, and I heard Cass's laughter faintly, to the point where I also laughed a bit with her.

―¿Do you even know what you ordered?― she asked incredulously, playing with the napkins.

―No, I'm somewhat scared it might be the worst thing I've ever tasted in my life. I really hope it's delicious― I said, feeling the live music starting to play.

It was calm with light drums and a marked rhythm, with a bit of electric guitar in the background along with a guy singing into the microphone artistically. The song seemed to be about a woman, or at least that's what I thought from the way "She" was repeated.

―It's a Bolognese pasta, but the meat is cooked with milk and white wine. The noodles are a bit thicker than usual, and it's served with grated cheese on the sides― she explained with a small smile.

―It doesn't sound so bad, but the idea of meat cooked in milk and wine sounds disgusting due to the combination.

She shrugged her shoulders, staring fixedly at the stage with attention, her right hand holding her chin with her elbow resting against the table, and her left hand playing lightly with the plants on the railing.

―Your drinks and your plates, and in 5 minutes, your food will be ready― the guy brought the white plates with food and the glasses with the wine bottle.

―Thank you― Cass said, getting comfortable, waiting and watching how they left our food.

The plate was white with clean edges, and the pasta in the middle with the sauce spread nicely, with the touch of cheese on the sides slightly raising the mountain with pieces of meat and tomato randomly placed.

―Enjoy.

He left, and my girlfriend took a photo of her plate along with the glass.

―I don't understand why you do that― I said as I took a sip of my drink.

―¿What?― she asked, putting her phone down near the railings and placing the napkin on her lap.

―The photo of your food. I don't understand why you take a picture of your food.

―Because it's pretty, and I want to take a picture of it. Besides, I like posting them in my stories because it looks nice and aesthetic― she began to eat her food lightly.

―I don't understand this modern era. In my times, photos were taken of people and landscapes.

I tried to mimic the way she ate and picked up the pasta from the plate.

She shook her head while laughing before looking back and listening to the music, her foot tapping a bit against my leg, marking the beat of the song.

We spent the night until around 2 am listening to the same guy with his band, drinking a bottle of red wine and finishing the food with a strange frozen dessert that had a chocolate brownie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream prepared with champagne according to the dessert menu.

―Thank you, have a good night― the waiter left after Cass swiped her black card.

―¿Shall we, Buck?― she asked, getting up carefully and with her jacket on, along with her bag.

―¿Are you okay?― I asked, standing up.

―Just a little dizzy― she gave me a small smile.

I took her hand carefully to help her down the stairs, seeing how, despite the time, the bar was still full of new people, and the line outside had the same number of people.

―¿Why are there still so many people?― I asked confused.

―The bar is open until 5 am― Cass replied as she brushed her hair out of her face, breathing in the fresh air.

We both walked to my bike slowly, enjoying the cool spring air with the few stars in the sky.

―Buck― Cass stopped us a few meters from the bike, her hand on her chest, looking at the ground.

I thought the worst; two months ago, her "heart" had suddenly stopped while she was chatting with the guys at dinner, and she was in intensive care until this week when she finally got rid of her tube and some pills to take and eat solid things, but we were all worried. I think if Cass were to shut down right now on the street, and knowing I only have 5 minutes to get her to the complex doctors, I wouldn't mind killing people in my way to the middle of the forest far from the city just to save her.

―¿What's wrong, Doll?― I asked worriedly, placing my hand on her shoulder.

Her head lifted to look at me with her eyes before throwing herself into my shoulders and kissing me forcefully, putting her hands on my left shoulder and on my hip, smiling in the middle of the kiss.

―Thank you for giving me a very nice night; I needed to forget about my life for a moment― she whispered on my lips.

[slytherins-heir]

Having opened my requests again, I thought a list of fandoms I'm writing for right now, just because I'm hyper-fixated on them right now 😂 If there's any fics wanted that aren't on the list, still send in an ask and there's a chance I might do something with it<3 (Not limited to just fics, I'm down for one-shots, headcanons, anything really so honestly just spam the fuck outta my asks, ily guys<3)

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · 𐙚⋆⋅─ Outer Banks 𐙚⋆⋅─ Harry Potter / Hogwarts Legacy 𐙚⋆⋅─ Dune 𐙚⋆⋅─ Marvel 𐙚⋆⋅─ TASM // Spider-Man (Sam Raimi) 𐙚⋆⋅─ American Horror Story 𐙚⋆⋅─ 13 Reasons Why 𐙚⋆⋅─ Star Wars (inc. Cal Kestis) 𐙚⋆⋅─ TVD / The Originals 𐙚⋆⋅─ Teen Wolf 𐙚⋆⋅─ Supernatural

I'm considering possibly bringing back the Alice In Borderland fics, so they are a possibility<3 · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

[fieldsofview]

Had a fic idea today while brainstorming with a friend and I just need to get it out in the universe because I don't think I'll ever write it and I really want to read it.

Please steal this and write things if you want!

So, picture this:

"Reformed Villains" with voices in their heads/alternate personalities - getting together for a support group of sorts.

We've got Deadpool with his boxes, of course.

Throw in Harry Osborn post Hob Goblin for good measure.

Add in a Venom+Eddie Brock combo.

Maybe even a still somewhat Winter Soldier-y Bucky Barnes if you're feeling fancy.

All sent there on the request of our beloved Peter Parker, of course. He just wants them to be able to get to know some people with similar struggles.

Now I threw out that we could have Sam Wilson roped in as mediator because he's one of the only people well versed in healthy communication, but my friend had the idea of having Vision be the mediator instead. She argued that MCU Vision being the brainchild of Jarvis and Ultron makes him versed in the idea of having conflicting thoughts/beings floating around in his head, and he would have instantaneous access to therapy/self help information a la the Internet.

Either way, the interaction of the four above in some sort of support group situation could be a gold mine for fun shenanigans and I want to read it so bad oh my god!!!

[crazyk-imagine]

Fic Rec II

One Piece (Live Action)

Roronora Zoro

Liminal space by @paperultra

How to disappear by @zorobff

Vinsmoke "Black Leg" Sanji

Service with a smile by @paperultra

Bring me the sun and I'll give you the moon by @honeydjarin

Hammock by @paperultra

Worth your while by @cow-smells

House of Dragons

Aemond Targaryn

It's complicated by @hamatoanne

All of us are dead

Yoon Gwi-Nam

Whipped by @iheartcake123

All of us are dead Master List by @iheartcake123

Harry Potter

James Potter

Cause' your kinda cute by @wingedhallows

Begin again by @pretty-little-mind33

Stay beautiful by @pretty-little-mind33

Gold rush by @pretty-little-mind33

Sunny-side-up by @dearharriet

Why didn't we work out? by @astonishment

Top Gun Universe

Top Gun: Maverick Master List by @fanboygarcia

Javy "Coyote" Machado

The plus one by @beyondthesefourwalls

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

A change to everything by @beyondthesefourwalls

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Divine Retribution by @pellucid-constellations

Little lion man by @wkemeup

Bucky and his arm drabble by @buckyalpine

Twilight

Paul Lahote

Always an angel by @jogetsobsessed

Random

Twilight masterlist by @fishoutofcamelot

Misc

Peaky Blinders Master List by @theshelbyclan

Otis Driftwood HC by @soupbabe

Lost Boy by @fandom-imagines-stories

Adults by @panic-at-the-fiction

How the knights would confess by @sketchshack-go-blr

Blue moon boy by @sagesolsticewrites

Code red by @zepskies

Transactional by @sethsclearwater

Bittersweet blunders by @happy74827

Full of adrenaline by @withahappyrefrain

Musicals aren't supposed to have encores by @agentofteamvaliant

Clean Shaven by @your-highnessmarvel

Dating Han by @early2000smovieimagines

Liar by @discopaddock

Mastermind by @pretty-little-mind33

Love, love, love all these fics and think everyone here is an incredible writer. I hope you all enjoy these as much as I do!

[introvert-fan-girl]

Y’all, I need help looking for a fanfic I was reading. I honest to god forget if was about Harry Styles or Bucky Barnes but it was a college story.

The roommate had taken reader to a party she didn’t want to be at held by the roommates boyfriend and his roommate. The reader ends up in the bedroom of the room maters boyfriend roommate (either Harry or Bucky, leaning more towards Harry though). The roommate keeps dragging the reader over to the apartment of the boyfriend and reader keeps on hanging out with roommate who even drivers the reader home a few times when their roommate abandons them there. Last I remember there wasn’t any smut between the reader and the love interest.

I know that is definitely not the best description but hopefully it helps. Hopefully somebody can help me out because I’m desperate to read it and catch up with anything I may have missed lol.

Anyways, thank you in advanced.

[v1olentdelights]

Masterlist

Old writings

Multi-fandom

Timeless - narnia, marvel, lockwood & co, marauders

Harry Potter

Holding you - George Weasley x reader

Sweet Dreams - Male Weasley x reader

Loving George Weasley HC

Dating Neville Longbottom HC

Everything Has Changed - Neville x reader HC

I Just Wanted to Live a Little - George Weasley x reader

She Doesn’t Like Wearing Socks to Bed - previous George Weasley x reader & current Cedric Diggory x reader

Strawberries and Kisses - George Weasley x reader

The Moon and Me - Golden Trio x reader (platonic)

Marauders

The Great Hall Incident- Regulus Black x reader

Ethereal - Regulus Black x reader

Brighter Than The Stars - Regulus Black x reader

What to do when a Buck Arrives to your Picnic - James Potter x reader

You’re not very pretty - James Potter x reader

The Comeback - Marauders x reader (Sirius Black x reader)

Going Softly... - James Potter x reader

My Son. - Fleamont Potter x James Potter

Sweet blurb - Remus Lupin x reader

The Way the Rain Falls - Sirius Black x Potter!reader

Trust - Sirius Black x reader

Golden Slumbers Masterlist - Sirius Black x reader series

You Will Never Be A God Masterlist - marauders x Pettigrew!reader

Marvel

Cinderella - Tony Stark x Morgan Stark

Why Do You Sneeze So Loud - Peter Parker x reader

I Was Never Interested in Space- Steve Rogers x reader

The Power of Hand Holding- Loki Laufeyson x reader

Taking Care of You - Peter Parker x reader

Only a Second - Frank Castle x reader

Moments Like These - dad T'Challa x young reader

That Red Love - evil Bucky x evil reader

Our Last Goodbye - Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x non bio daughter reader

Pietro Maximoff HC

Narnia

Don’t Forget About Me - Edmund Pevensie x reader

Enemies to Lovers? - Caspian x reader

I Know, I Know - Caspian x reader

The Hobbit

Across Realms - Kili Durin x reader

The Bedroom Theory - Kili Durin x reader

Too Late For Tea? - company x reader (fili x reader, but that's not the main plot really)

Ethereal Deity - Fili Durin x reader

We aren't married... yet - Kili Durin x reader

Criminal Minds

You're Gonna Go Far - BAU x reader (aaron hotchner x reader --- but its not really a big point of the fic)

We'll Be Waiting For You - BAU x reader (You're gonna go far pt 2)

Across a Crowded Room - Spencer Reid x reader

What a Mess - Emily Prentiss x reader (younger reader -platonic)

The Barbie Movie - Spencer Reid x reader (a sprinkle of Derek and Penelope)

Lockwood & Co

The Barbie Movie - company x reader (George Karim x reader)

One of us - company x reader (George Karim x reader)

The Summer I Turned Pretty

Summertime Sadness - JJ Maybank x Fisher!fem!reader (conrad x sister!reader)

Dandelion Wishes - Conrad Fisher x sister!reader (though jeremiah, susanah, belly, and steven are all mentioned and make an apperance)

On The Nights You Can't Sleep - Conrad Fisher x sister!reader

Driving Lessons - Jeremiah Fisher x sister!reader

[disasterlesbianeldritchhorrors]

took me longer than i expected because uni, but i’ve finished part 3 of that regeneration-except-the-doctor-is-an-extradimensional-insectoid-timesquid-who-literally-moults-off-their-old-body fic! this one’s much less painful than last time, there’s no battles for their companions’ lives or nightmarish political needle-threading, just waking up nice and safe in the tardis with their friends just outside, the walls covered in moulting acid, unit on high alert, everyone on the verge of panic because they exploded into a big ol’ squid... nothing to worry about

today’s deleted scene: there was originally a bit in the doctor’s conversation with sarah jane where she mentioned that when they were flailing through the unit hallways they didn’t seem to know where they were going and they kept bashing into walls and they wouldn’t stop screaming, and it was... honestly about as terrifying as discovering they were secretly an eldritch abomination this whole time. the doctor managed to reassure her through a mix of white lies and sincere thanks, and then they hugged. it didn’t really fit the direction i ended up taking the scene, though - resolved it a bit too neatly - so i cut it. they probably do have a conversation to that effect later in the tardis though

[fanficspringboard]

Army

Status: Complete

Wordcount: 5k

Rating: Gen

This short story explores how DA and the year under Voldemort's regime has touched and changed the lives of Hogwarts' students and the recent graduates. Because of the fic's brevity we don't get full portrayals but we see through snippets of scenes how the unfolding events prompt the teenagers to make decisions and take actions. There is no judgement passed, no-one is vilified and the author stays clear from clichés.

Choosing a collective hero instead of focusing on a few characters is the perfect vehicle for showing the widespread imprint of war on the young adult population. The muggle generations in the past marked by great wars were called Lost and Silent, I wonder how the wizards will call the survivors of Voldemort's terror.

The writing style supports the kaleidoscopic scenes through simple language giving them a fleeting quality. I was a delight to read

8/10

Link to AO3: click

Image from Unsplash by Gayatri Malhotra

[underraposa]

Um desenho para uma futura fanfiction que irei postar no Ao3

[sagesolsticewrites]

Hi! I’d like to request a John “Bucky” Egan fic where he tries several times to flirt with the reader, but the reader is super oblivious about it and just thinks he’s being nice. It becomes something everyone on base talks about and gets invested in. Maybe other people set up a scheme to get them together or make the reader realize how he feels. Idk, just something funny and cute like that ig 😁

Thank you so much for requesting, Nonnie, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! I loved getting to write for our best boy Bucky 🥰 Shoutout to @blurredcolour’s Trust fic (an absolute masterpiece, check it out y’all!) for helping with the writers block on this one 😅 (Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Oblivious

“There’s my favorite nurse!”

You rolled your eyes at the phrase that announced John “Bucky” Egan’s every visit to sickbay.

“Hello, Major,” you said, turning to greet him with a mock-exasperated smile.

Bucky clutched a hand to his heart as if wounded, a hurt expression on his face. “How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Bucky, sweetheart?”

“At least a few more times, Major,” you reply, unable to hide a smile at the usual volley of friendly banter.

Major John Egan had been unusually friendly to you since the first moment he’d sauntered in to introduce himself to the medical staff as Air Exec. Your colleagues had blushed afterward and playfully insisted that he had paid you more attention than the others, but you just laughed and shook your head, insisting that he was just being nice.

This visit was simply another instance of Bucky being friendly to you; well, that and Harry Crosby’s airsickness had gotten the better of him again and he was checking up on the navigator.

You stepped aside as Bucky approached Harry’s cot, ready to update him on the goings-on since the last mission had returned.

He threw you a kind smile before perching on the stool next to Harry.

“How’s my girl treatin’ you, Crosby?”

Harry happily told him how the base had gotten a new shipment of airsickness pills and you had slipped him a spare box for his own personal use, and Bucky’s smile grew wider and wider.

You were glad to see how happy he was at the news that his friend was feeling better, and you quietly excused yourself to tend to the other patients.

Bucky sighed as you walked away.

“She still hasn’t picked up on it, huh?”

“No, Croz, she hasn’t.” sighed Bucky, “She thinks I’m just bein’… nice or friendly or something. Which I am!” He added hurriedly, “But I just…I like her so much. I wish she’d notice.”

“She will, buddy,” Harry replied, with a comforting pat on his friend’s hand, “She will.”

Bucky headed out after a few more minutes of conversation, giving you a wink and a smile as he walked past your station.

“Bucky visited again, huh?” Rebecca, one of your fellow nurses, sidled up next to you with a teasing grin.

“Yes, Major Egan came by to visit Lieutenant Crosby,” you replied, putting emphasis on their ranks.

“You’re sure that’s all he was here for? Somehow he never shows up here without an excuse to see you…”

“He’s just being nice, Becca,” you insisted, “You know how these soldier boys are.”

“But he’s always—”

“Becca,” you cut her off as gently as you can, “I really don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“Alright, alright,” she held her hands up in surrender, “Bucky is an off-limits topic, gotcha.”

The conversation turned to the current hot gossip, and you idly chimed in when it seemed appropriate, losing yourself in your routine tasks.

Rebecca broke off to check on Harry again, narrowing her eyes as she noticed Harry watching you.

“Something Nurse L/N can help you with, Crosby?”

He jumped, gaze darting to Rebecca as she approached.

“No ma’am, I just…”

He scrambled to think of some excuse, but all he could come up with was: “I’m trying to think of some way to get Y/N to notice Bucky!”

Rebecca blinked in surprise, then plopped down onto the stool next to his bed, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Oh thank goodness it’s not just me! He’s been at it for months but the poor girl’s just so oblivious…”

“I keep telling him to just talk to her like a normal person, but he insists on dancing around it!” Harry instantly agreed, glad to have someone besides Jean to talk to about this. “He’s been so distracted lately. If he doesn’t do something soon, I’m worried it might start to affect his flying.”

Rebecca pressed her lips into a thin line, twisting a strand of hair worriedly.

After a few moments of quiet, she spoke up again, green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’ve got an idea.”

———

“Hey Bucky,” Harry said at breakfast the next morning, “I’m gonna pop down to the infirmary to visit Winks, wanna come with?”

Bucky quickly agreed— he’d been meaning to check on Winks yesterday as well as Croz, but got caught up in… well, you.

As they entered, Bucky made a beeline for Winks while Harry caught Rebecca’s eye and gave a subtle nod, which she returned, signaling her part of the plan was complete.

She had removed the step stool you always used from one of the supply closets, now hidden under one of the cots nearby. When you weren’t able to reach something on one of the higher shelves, well…

Good thing Bucky was so tall.

“Y/N, would you mind grabbing some more bandages for me? My station’s running low.”

“Sure thing, Becca!” You called, stepping away from your current station to check the supply closet.

“Becca…” your confused voice called from the closet, “Do you know where the stepstool went?”

“It’s not there?” She called back, sounding equally confused. “Let’s see, um…”

She scanned the room, putting on a good show of looking for someone who could help.

“Oh, Bucky! Would you mind helping Nurse L/N grab something from the supply closet for me?”

“No problem, Becca,” came his reply, accompanied with his trademark winning smile as he nodded to Winks and made his way over to the supply closet.

It was much smaller than he’d anticipated, and barely half a foot was all that separated you as he asked, “Alright, what do ya need, sweethea—”

The pet name was cut off by the sound of the supply closet door closing.

And locking.

You lunged for the handle as Bucky reached up to turn on the single lightbulb, both of you calling out in confusion.

“Becca! What?”

“C’mon, guys, this isn’t funny!”

Harry’s voice came through the door, clear and determined.

“Just tell her how you feel, Bucky! Your tactic clearly isn’t working!”

“I— what?” You turned to Bucky, hoping he knew what in the world they were talking about.

Bucky hesitated, but seeing as it seemed he had no choice…

“Well this isn’t… exactly how I wanted to do it, but…” He took a deep breath, twisting his fingers together in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety, “I really like you, doll. I’ve liked you since I first laid eyes on you. And I’ve tried every way I know how to tell you, but nothin’ worked, so…” He gestured around at the supply closet, “I guess it came to this? Which wasn’t my idea, by the way. Just for the record. I would never…”

His voice faltered, and you realized just how close you were to him. You didn’t remember moving forward. You were just suddenly there, so close the two of you were almost breathing each other’s air.

“You… you like me?”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Doll, you think I call every pretty girl workin’ here my favorite nurse?”

You flushed at the compliment.

“I thought you were just being nice, I didn’t…”

“I mean, I was bein’ nice,” He said with a shrug, grinning, “Just not quite in the way you were thinking.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked down to your mouth, and being this close to you, he couldn’t hide the bob of his throat as he swallowed nervously.

“I’d, uh. I’d really like to kiss you right now, if that’s alright with you, sweetheart.”

You nodded slowly, “I think I’d really like that, Major Egan.”

“It’s Bucky, sweetheart,” he murmured softly as he leaned in, capturing your lips.

You may or may not have spent more than a few lonely nights in your bunk imagining what it would be like to kiss Major John Egan.

Your imaginings were nothing compared to reality.

This was magic unlike anything you could have dreamed.

Your arms wound around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You toyed with the dark curls at the nape of his neck as he slanted his mouth against yours, deepening the kiss. Needing to be closer, you tried to step towards him, but merely succeeded in pressing him back against the shelves.

Ordinarily you would apologize, but something like a thrill ran up your spine when you felt him grin into the kiss as his back hit the shelves, knocking rolls of bandages and boxes of gauze onto the floor.

His right hand moved to cup your cheek, keeping your lips connected as his other hand splayed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer as you arched into him.

You could still feel him grinning as he murmured against your lips, “Knew you were feisty under that good girl act.”

“Bucky,” you whined softly as he pulled away from you, chest heaving.

“Oh, now she uses my name,” he teased breathlessly, bumping his nose playfully against yours.

The two of you flinched as sunlight spilled into the dim closet, a harsh change from the dingy yellow lightbulb you had become accustomed to.

Harry and Rebecca stood in the doorway, wearing twin smug grins.

“Looks like our work here is done,” Becca said, shooting you a wink as she bid farewell to Harry with a two-fingered salute, “Pleasure working with you, Lieutenant Crosby.”

“Same to you, Nurse Carter,” Harry replied, and he turned back to the two of you, a genuine smile on his face.

“About time, Bucky.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky waved off his friend’s I told you so, “You gonna congratulate me or what?”

“Congratulations,” came Harry’s mock-put-out reply, accompanied by a genuinely congratulatory clap on his arm. “You got a good one. And it only took months of unsuccessful flirting—”

“Hey, I got her in the end, didn’t I?” He squeezed you closer, grinning down at you.

Your lipstick was all over his mouth, and you’re sure the Victory Red on your own lips was in no better shape.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care, however, as he pulled you in for a tender kiss.

Which you broke for a moment to point out, “He isn’t wrong, you know, it was months of unsuccessful—”

Your teasing was promptly cut off with a “shush” mumbled against your lips as Bucky silenced you with a kiss.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 17

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I have a house now. One more month until move in.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You leave the queen, stepping into the gales that whip around the outer flap of her tent. You reach to keep your cap from flying into the violent winds, the soldiers with their chins down as they lean against the force. Before you can gain your bearings, a shadow appears and calls your name, battling the weather to be heard. 

“Eh, where is your cloak, silly mouse? You will blow away with the leaves,” Bryce approaches, latching onto your arm as the bluster swirls around you, nearly taking you off your feet. 

“I am fine, sir, I only need find a blanket,” you stumble against him as another willful gust pushes you around.  

“That isn’t what I asked. What has happened to it? You’ve lost it?” 

“The queen was cold, sir,” you answer and cling to him, shivering as the tempest swirls around you. 

“The queen... greedy...” his voice trails off as her sneers towards the tent. 

“Sir,” you touch his arm gently to calm him, “she needs it more than I. She is expecting the king’s child.” 

He looks at you and juts out his jaw, “aye, s’pose you’re right, even if you’re too kind for yer own good.” 

He turns you and grips you tightly, shielding you as best he can against the wind. Your progress is slow and stunted by the sudden ebbs and flows. He grunts as you stagger and steadies you, at times almost lifting you off your feet. 

“Sir Bryce,” a deep voice slices through the whistle of the winds, “a storm approaches.” 

The king nears, his sword gripped by the pommel as he leans it against hit shoulder. His golden eyes flick towards you, as if he had not seen you in the shadow of your escort. He raises his chin and returns his attention to the soldier. He angles his blade to the ground and the tip buries in the dirt. 

“Aye, it surely does,” Bryce agrees, “I’ve seen a worst tempest in my years.” 

“Sir,” Geralt holds out his hands and a glisten appears on his sleeve. You lean in without a thought, curious, then feel a cold speck on your nose. You look up and see the white flakes drifting down. “It will not remain so peaceful. It comes from the north and will deepen by morning.” 

“Shall we wake the camp?” Bryce asks and you sway with the wind. Once more, the king’s attention strays to you, he frowns. 

“Not as yet. Let the horses rest a little longer. They will be able to handle a dusting,” he affirms. “but I will harry the men to prepare for our departure.” 

“As will I. I’ll be certain the carts are covered and weighted.” 

“Sir, ever wise,” King Geralt praises and scowls at you. He shakes his head and huffs, “why does the maid wear no cloak? She will not survive in this, summer soul, she is.” 

“Aye, yes, I was only just telling her as much. Seems her heart is too big for her thin hide,” Bryce tuts, “we were only off to find her a blanket before she sleeps.” 

“Blanket, eh,” the king lets go of his blade, letting it stand in the ground. He unbuckles his collar and sweeps his cloak from around his shoulder, “I have my hunting cloak and I don’t mind the snow so much.” 

Before you can react, the king lays his heavy cloak over your shoulders. It is longer than your height requires and it smells of sweat and iron. You lower your head at the warmth clinging to the lined wool. 

“Your highness, many thanks, but I might find a blanket--” 

“Do not defy your king,” Bryce rebukes, “mouse, you would do well to accept his grace. You will certainly need it if these winds do not pass.” 

“Apologies,” you utter, “sir, your highness, you are both generous.” 

King Geralt grumbles and nods, looking once more to the sky as he grabs his sword. 

“The Ridge, Vulture’s Peak... it isn’t far. The castle will do, eh?” 

“Not far at all, your highness,” Bryce agrees. “It would do you well to let your wife rest. Many congratulations, my king.” 

“Congratulations? For what? Smelling a storm?” the king furrows his brow. 

“Oi, I think I’ve said too much,” Bryce glances at you. 

“Say more,” the king commands. The soldier sighs and sheepishly shows his teeth.  

“Please, maid, would ya...” He mutters. 

“Your highness, the queen said she is with child,” you swallow, “I only just came from her tent. I believed you were aware. I did not mean to gossip.” 

“Child,” his eyes sink and close. He hums and heaves a deep breath, “yes, she would need to be still a time.” 

“Your highness, again, you have my apologies--” 

“No matter,” the king waves his hand. “Take the maid, I shall see to my wife.” 

The king resumes his path onward, sword in hand. He hardly shares in Jazlene’s cheer for the news. Perhaps it is only the threat of the storm that has him unhappy.  

You bring your hands to the dark fur along the collar of the cloak and draw it snug. You chatter and Bryce clucks. He nudges you and you walk forward in step. 

“So the snows have come,” Bryce declares, “along with the heir. I sense many storms brewing, mouse. Best keep our eyes on the horizon.” 

⚔️

You don’t sleep for long, if at all. Only the shallow dregs of your anticipation. You watch the snow fall from beneath the canopy and as the horses are roused and fed before dawn, a carpet coats the ground. 

You peer down at the powder. You wonder what it feels like. Cold and wet, Bryce says, but don’t dirty your soles, you’ll be soaked. He remains, as ever, cynical. 

“Be off soon,” he says as he brings Daisy around, a thick coat over her back and haunches. 

“To Vulture’s Peak?” You ask. 

“Aye, so we will,” he pets Daisy’s snout as she sniffs him. “though our host may not be so fond to have us.” 

“Host? It is not the king’s castle?” 

“Ha, no, no,” Bryce laughs heartily, “a king can’t live on a desolate bluff. By fealty, a lord must break bread and offer a roof to his king. It might be his company which has him facing a cold welcome.” 

“Oh,” you frown. 

“Ah, even this old coot won’t deny us in the coming storm. He has sense of these better than any,” Bryce shrugs. “Don’t worry your head. You stay in your cart and Daisy will do the rest. She’s a fine climber--” 

“Out of my way!” The curdling snarl interrupts the soldier and you both look to see the source. “Move, by gods, I am the queen, be away from me.” 

You get to your knees, leaning on the edge of the wagon to see out from under the canopy. A scatter of bodies split apart as Queen Jazlene struts through, the fur cloak rippling from her shoulders and the hood set back on her head as her curls spill out. She sneers at the snow beneath her slippers. 

“Ah, I did hear there was a cart around here—ugh, out,” she points as she marches up to the cart, “by royal right, I am seizing this cart.” 

“Eh,” Bryce moves closer, “your highness, the king--” 

“I cannot sit a horse, sir,” she rests her gloved hand over her stomach. “Or would you murder the future prince with your selfishness. All for a--” she pauses and glowers over at you, rolling her eyes. “A maid?” 

You rise and snatch up the cloak you’d used as a blanket. You keep bent under the low canopy and climb out with the cushion under your arm. 

“Sir, the queen is right, she should have the cart, I will sit with the luggage.” 

He huffs and sends a grimace to the sky, unable to direct his malice towards its source, “if she must...” 

“I must!” The queen snaps and yanks the pillow from your hands, “I will need this, certainly.” 

You stand aside, staring at the pillow dolefully, and buckle the top of your cloak. The queen pauses as she faces you. She looks you up and down. 

“Where did you find this then?” She touches the collar of the cloak. 

“It is my spare cloak,” Bryce insists before you can answer, “what else do you require, your highness? Shall we bring a lamb to sacrifice?” 

“Hm, is that how you northerners worship?” She sneers, missing his irony. 

He blinks dully and says nothing. 

“Well, secure the horse, I will need to be drawn.” 

“It is my horse,” Bryce insists, “you may bridle your own.” 

“You dare deny me?” She snarls at him as the soldiers with her stand on either side of the cart. 

“You may take it up with your husband. This is my steed, she carried me to war and she will carry me henceforth,” he snips. 

Bryce and Jazlene glare at each other. You look between them nervously. You don’t know who King Geralt might choose in this battle should he be called. 

“Fine, fetch the stinky thing,” Jazlene demands of one of the soldiers, “and blankets, another pillow, perhaps something to eat.” 

The cast of the sky shifts with the first light of the sun and Bryce grabs both horses and leads them aside. He whistles for you to follow. You come to him as Chestnut and Daisy cluelessly puff into the cold air. 

“You will ride. I will not have that... queen seizing my horse,” he sniffs, “I will show you how once I’ve saddled the mare.” 

“Oh, yes, sir.” You look up at the horses back. It seems very high. 

“You will want to be aback anyhow,” he shrugs, “you’ll not want to miss the mountain. It is very beautiful, especially in the snow.” 

⚔️

The party continues onward, treacherously. As the snow falls, the train diverts away from the flats and onto the narrow paths speckled with broken trunks and towering trees. The smell of pine tickles your nose as you ascend, bit by bit. 

It takes some time to grow used to the motion of the horse. Daisy’s hooves are certain and she does not slip on even the most precarious spots. Bryce rides behind you, booming about each nook and cranny, pointing out the white rabbits and the wilted fauna. His enthusiasm is unexpected but endearing. 

You ride until the moon replaces the sun and dismount along the side of the great cliff. There is no room here to pitch a tent and only a few fires burn along the ridge. Your hips ache as the soldier grunts about his back. 

“I should see to the queen,” you suggest as you rub your hands together. 

“She must have many fawning over her,” Bryce spits out a wad of leaves and squashes it under his feet. 

“I am her maid--” 

“And we are on a long road. She might go without you minding her temper,” he snarls. 

You frown, “I am not upset. She needs the cart more than me.” 

“It isn’t that which sees me chagrined,” he growls. “It’s those deeds you will not admit of that traitor’s daughter which make me prickle.” 

You’re quiet. You look away, your eyes wandering up into the sky, watching the snow swirl down, following it down to the ground far below. The heaps are immaculate in the moonlight and the trim of white along the ridge gleams. 

“I am a maid.” 

“I know little of your summer people but if that is how they treat those who serve them, perhaps this alliance was not so wise,” he grumbles as he steps up beside you, “perhaps it would’ve been better to submit such cruel nobles.” 

“Sir,” you say, shocked and peer over at his profile. His beard has grown to meet his cloak, his hair coiling down to his shoulders. 

“I serve my king, as I ever will, but I will not bend the knees to a snake,” he hisses and crosses his arms. 

“We are united, aren’t we? Summer and Winter,” you reach to touch his thick hide mitt. 

“Aye, yes, I do not seek another battle,” he exhales. “I am only wary of those who may.” 

You squint. Your mind returns to Lord Dustan and what he said to his daughter. The heir is their prize, an affirmation of the bounty earned by their betrayal, but also a chain to that very act. To the man they forsook their name for. A man they speak as kindly on as they had their former allies. 

“Might I walk?” You draw your hand from his. “My legs are sore.” 

“Not too far. And keep your eyes open,” he girds, “and your hands in your cloak. You needn’t frostbite.” 

You nod and he turns to you. He pulls up the hood of your cloak and pats your shoulder. 

“Tarry too long and I’ll look for you,” he warns. 

“Sir,” you shift slowly and step past him. 

You trod higher up the incline as you marvel over the edge. Bodies huddles together beneath cloaks and blankets, nestling for warmth against the wall of the cliff. You carry on and stop near a luggage cart, close to the drop. You hold out your hand, letting snow gather in your palm. It is cold, bitterly and painfully cold, but so beautiful. You bring it closer and watch it slowly melt as your hand numbs. 

“Do you remember...” the king’s voice drawls over you as his soft steps approach. “What I told you of this place?” 

You look at him. He is lit by the moonlight, his golden eyes like stars, and his jaw is bristly with thickening stubble. You bow your head, “your highness, are the bears already asleep in their caves?” 

He chuckles, “you do recall,” he praises, “not yet, though they do not come this high.” 

“And the wolves? Are they near?” 

“They are always prowling,” he says, shifting closer, his arm pressing to yours. He bends slightly to peer straight down, “the elk will be in the forests.” He points to the snowcapped tips of the distant trees, “here, the vultures have their nests. Their eggs,” he curves his hands to show the size, “I made a writ, years ago. It is forbidden to eat the eggs. I always found it quite tragic to desecrate the majestic creatures before they can even be borne. Before they can fly even.” 

“Vultures? I’ve never seen one? They are... birds?” 

“Yes, birds,” he confirms.  

He is silent as he considers his kingdom below. His breath is gritty as it rises and falls. He has much to think on. A child, a wife, and his homecoming delayed by a storm. 

“One thing has changed here, in these lands of winter,” he says lowly and you feel a ripple in your cloak. He presses his hand firmly to your back, sliding it along your side to grasp your hip. He moves to stand behind you and brings you close. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your crown, “I said before, there is no summer here,” he holds you, pulling his cloak around you, concealing you within it as he drapes himself around you, “summer is here. With me. Warm and gentle.” 

You go rigid as he holds you, your heart beating at the unexpected embrace, at the unseemly contact between you. He hums as he stands with you in the shadows of the cart, so brazenly covert. Anyone might happen upon you and yet they all hide away from the storm. 

“Your highness,” you stammer and quiver against him. 

“Treasure,” he purrs, “my treasure. The one good thing I’ve brought home...” 

You can’t breathe or think. Is he drunk? Confused? What does he mean? 

“I--” he begins but the kick of a rock quiets him, the stone bouncing off the cart’s wheel. 

A shadow stalks down the precipice towards you and the king detaches, uncovering you from his cloak. He faces the figure as the tramp up the incline. You hear the king shudder as he tickles your back. 

“There’s the mouse,” Bryce says as he comes into the moonlight, his brow and jaw set, though he doesn’t look at you. He looks at the king, almost defiant. “You shouldn't be out so long in the cold. Exposed,” he grits, “come, I’ve sparked us a fire.” 

King Geralt clears his throat, “thank you, sir.” 

“My king,” Bryce says as he beckons to you, “I will keep the maid safe. As you bid.” 

[wlntrsldler]

marvel masterlist

bucky barnes:

series

DOPPELGÄNGER: Bucky has only been in love once and it was before he was put in ice and way before he became the Winter Soldier. What happens when Bucky meets Y/N, the exact look alike of the girl he used to love? (Social Media AU) (WIP) DISCONTINUED

ROSES: Bucky tells Y/N he’s the Winter Soldier. The next day, he’s taken by the government and that’s the last Y/N sees of him... until they cross paths again. But what if Bucky doesn’t remember her? (COMPLETED)

TO BE SO LONELY: When Bucky and Y/N signed up for this online penpal system, they never expected to grow attached to the other person behind the screen. (COMPLETED)

FALLING: Bucky has been distant lately. Y/N doesn’t know why. (COMPLETED)

THE BREAKUP CHRONICLES: A collection of imagines that can be read independently or as a whole fic about Y/N and Bucky’s relationship post-breakup. DISCONTINUED

one shots

NOT MY TYPE AT ALL: Y/N isn’t Bucky’s type but honestly, he doesn’t care about that anymore. (Not My Type At All by Jacob Whitesides)

SLOW DANCING IN A BURNING ROOM: Y/N knew that Bucky had to leave someday but that didn’t mean that she was ready when the day came. (Slow Dancing In A Burning Room by John Mayer)

CLOSE TO YOU: Requested! Bucky loves Y/N, he didn’t mean to snap at her. (Close To You by Rihanna)

LAST KISS: 1940’s Bucky tells Y/N that he got his orders. (Last Kiss by Taylor Swift)

KISS ME SLOWLY: Bucky keeps running away from Y/N. He doesn’t want to get attached. (Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute)

FALLING LIKE THE STARS: Bucky and Y/N fall in love but he’s sent off to fight the war. (Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur)

HARD PLACE: Bucky and Y/N can’t stop fighting and it’s getting too much. (Hard Place by H.E.R)

F&MU**: Bucky and Y/N hate each other… but they can’t stop letting their anger out through sex. (F&MU by Kehlani) 18+!

MAY I ASK: Y/N and Bucky see each other for the first time since the breakup. Y/N confronts Bucky on why he ended things. (May I Ask by Luke Chiang)

I WILL BE FOUND:  Bucky finally found the place where he belongs when he met Y/N but at times, he wished that he could somehow take the life he used to have and magically fit it into the life he had now. (I Will Be Found by John Mayer)

10 AM: REQUESTED! Bucky is hopelessly in love with Y/N. He stops himself from saying anything to her because he’s afraid of getting hurt again, not knowing how much more he can take in his lifetime. (10AM by Keaton Henson)

FLAWLESS**: Bucky and Y/N are friends with benefits. They found a new thing to play with in the bedroom. The Winter Soldier. (Flawless by The Neighbourhood)

CHERIE: Bucky doesn’t understand why Y/N is always so happy. He never thought he would be one of the people who got entranced by her until he was. (Cherry by Harry Styles)

TEE SHIRT:  Bucky and Y/N walk into a music shop and she hears the song her and her ex used to love playing in the background. (Tee Shirt by Birdy)

I’M LONELY: lex’s writing challenge! enemies to lovers; “Will you wait for me?” (i’m lonely by luz)

LOUD: Every time Y/N is afraid, she plays her music too loudly but this time, Bucky is there to comfort her.

BUBBLES: Short Bucky imagine about bubbles.

DOCTOR ME UP: Y/N is Bucky’s doctor when he wakes up in Wakanda. 

WHITE DRESS: Bucky loves her, so so much, especially as she walks down the aisle in her white dress. 

SHAWARMAS: Bucky has a crush on Y/N, the cashier from the Shawarma place. 

NO CLUE: Y/N and Bucky hate each other. Nobody knows why. Whenever someone asks, the pair just say, “I have my reasons.” Some think that something happened between them when Bucky was in hiding. Some think that Bucky did something to Y/N when he was the Winter Soldier. Some think that there’s no actual reason- they simply hate each other.

RITUALS: You died on a mission and all Bucky has left is the voicemail you left him before you got on the Quinjet. 

FAMILIARITY: Love is a foreign concept to Bucky. 

peter parker:

JEALOUS: Where Peter tells Y/N that he’s Spiderman and things go down. (Jealous by Labrinth)

[mcumorningstar]

A Rose By Any Other Name || Part One

part two part three

series pairing: tommy shelby x reader, hints of john shelby x reader, hints of tommy x lizzie

summary: Resigned to a life as a whore, the infamous Shelby brothers find you in a compromising position and you apprehensively accept their protection. (Set in s2).

warnings: 18+ minor’s dni, prostitution, 1920s attitudes toward women and prostitution (physical and verbal aggression), unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, typical peaky blinders content, (slow burn sorry)

author’s note: I was bored and it’s missing Tommy Shelby hours (he’s so fit I can’t cope). This is kinda short but I’m hoping to make it a series. Also this is the first fic so if anyone reads please be nice :)

Work was a little more bearable if they fucked you from behind.

That way you could imagine the man rutting into you was a handsome actor like Tom Mix or Rudolph Valentine, or even a dashing soldier in his uniform, and not some brutish married factory foreman after too many drinks in The Garrison.

“Mhm fuck,” The nameless man grunted, pulling out and painting splatters of his cum on the backs of your thighs. Whiskey-laced breaths evened out against your skin and his grip on your neck loosened.

You didn’t look at him as the pair of you redressed, only thinking about the money now in your purse. From his clothes, you could deduce that he worked in the BSA factory but he was too clean to work on the factory floor. It was more than you usually knew about your clients and, when he opened his mouth to speak, you winced.

“Does Harry know you’re whoring behind his pub?” The man laughed, slurring his words and pulling his suspenders over his shoulders.

Ignoring him, you fixed your dress and tidied your hair. The brute wrapped his meaty fingers around your jaw and pulled you into him. He was probably quite handsome in his youth.

“Too high and mighty to open your fucking mouth?” He goaded, squashing your cheeks between his calloused fingers, “How much for your mouth?”

Noise from the pub spilled out into the streets, raucous men wasting their wages on cheap liquor. Any plea for help would be futile. Even if they could hear you, a whore caught behind the pub with a man was hardly worth a second look.

“You’re hurting me,” A weak croak escaped your rouge-smudged lips. It was a gift from one of your regulars but maybe wearing it at the local pub was a mistake.

“On the house?” He sneered, yellow teeth and thinning hair visible in the dark of the alley. With an iron grip, he pushed you to your knees, the thick mud and jagged stones cutting into your skin.

Aggressive clients were an unfortunate commonality but, whenever it happened, it was as frightening as the first time.

The scratch of a match drew you from your panicked stupor, crowded against the grimy brick wall.

Light from The Garrison illuminated the alleyway as the backdoor opened and slammed shut, casting the alley into darkness again. Your breath caught in your chest, your fate no longer in your own hands as you silently pleaded for the stranger's presence to startle the man.

A shadow appeared on the wall from the man’s lit cigarette. A Peaky Blinder. Shit.

The man above you stepped back, his eyes on the man’s shadow as it tripled. His jaw tightened before he dragged you to your feet. The commotion caught the three brothers’ attention, their hushed conversation halting.

Thomas Shelby’s scrutinising gaze fixed on you until the man excused himself and hurried out of the alley onto Garrison Lane.

John and Arthur Shelby chuckled, nudging one another and failing to hide their smirks. Whiskey dripped from Arthur's moustache and John's tooth pick hung from the corner of his mouth.

With flushed cheeks, you brushed the tiny and blood-smeared stones from your knees and righted your skirt.

Deep blue eyes didn’t falter, pinning you to the spot.

“Is Lizzie still inside?” You asked meekly, attempting and failing to meet Thomas Shelby’s eyes.

Thick fingers ran his cigarette across his pink lips, taking another drag as his gaze assessed you. Fighting the urge to touch your hair or tug your lip between your teeth, his eyes finally broke away from you and it seemed his assessment of the situation was complete.

You were aware of one another, only by association. Lizzie was now Thomas’ secretary and she dragged you to The Garrison whenever she could. The Shelby brothers acknowledged your presence, as Lizzie’s friend, and they will look out for you as a favour to her.

Arthur broke the silence, his gruff voice full of cheek, “Yeah, talking to a BSA worker. Your fella outranks hers. Does that mean you can charge more?”

For men who frequently pay for whores, they were at ease to laugh at your expense.

It was the middle brother who spared you, snatching the whiskey from the eldest and offering you a swig. Against your better judgment, you took the bottle and swallowed a mouthful or two.

“Don’t worry, his cock went nowhere near my mouth,” You spat with no real bite behind it, “Didn’t want to take the piss with his shallow pockets.”

John and Arthur stood in stunned silence, their cheeks reddening and their eyes averting away from you. A wiser woman may have kept her mouth shut but you were banking on Lizzie to save you from any potential consequences. And you were humiliated, what else did you have to lose?

Thomas took a drink from the bottle before handing it back to his older brother. His deep Brummie lilt travelled through the silence, “We’ll drive you home.”

Without waiting for a response, he headed onto Garrison Lane and the brothers looked at one another, dumbfounded. You weren’t in the business of saying ‘no’ to a Blinder, especially not the Blinder, and especially not after your spiteful words. With shaky legs and sweaty palms, you followed the brothers.

A brand new Bentley was parked in front of The Garrison. Thomas held the passenger door open, finishing his cigarette. Arthur and John wrestled until Arthur manhandled his younger brother into the backseats, releasing his neck from a firm headlock.

Stepping back, Arthur motioned you towards the backseat but Thomas cleared his throat. The two brothers shared a moment of unspoken disagreement.

“I’ll sit in the back. I don’t mind,” You said as if your voice wasn’t yours. Three gangsters within arms reach was more than enough to set your nerves on edge.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Just a chair,” Arthur grumbled with a soft and crooked smile, as he clambered into the back with a more than delighted John. Smiling politely, you took the passenger seat.

This was your first time in an automobile. Thomas started the engine and glanced over when you crossed your legs, unsure how to sit lady-like in the confined space.

Your skirt rode up as you got comfortable and your grazed knee was exposed. Thomas kept his eyes on the road as he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, handing over a white hanker-chief with a small embroidered T.S in the bottom corner.

Opening your mouth to protest, Thomas cleared his throat and focused on the drive. A silent order to accept the offer. Carefully you dabbed at the small trickles of blood, staining the white fabric, until all that was left was raw, grazed skin.

Thankfully, the drive to your lodgings wasn’t quiet; in fact John and Arthur talked your ear off as they passed the bottle of whiskey between them. You didn’t have much to say, mortified by the situation they found you in and frankly a little terrified to be in a car with the Shelby brothers in the first place.

Thomas was quiet. Lizzie said he’s been like that since he got back from France, but his silence was unnerving as you sailed through the streets of Small Heath.

“You live with Lizzie?” John asked as the car pulled in outside your lodgings and the engine cut. Clumsy hands gripped the back of your seat as he leaned over the front seats to smile at you.

Lizzie said John was a good boy, the best of a bad bunch. Nevertheless, blood rushed in your ears and your fisted the material of your dress at his proximity and hot whiskey breath.

Thomas sighed and lit a cigarette, surprising you when he got out of the car. Plumes of smoke followed him as he rounded the car and opened your car door.

“Yes, I- There’s three of us,” You answered, your scuffed brown heels stepping onto the uneven cobblestones.

“Three whores living together? Sounds like the start of a joke,” John laughed, his tooth pick long gone, and you were pleasantly surprised by the lack of insult in his voice.

“Or a very nice dream,” Arthur chuckled along too, his deep voice at full volume making you jump. With his brother distracted by you and the bottle, John scrambled into the front seat.

Arthur's swift smack to the back of John’s head echoed in the quiet of the street. A small smirk twitched at Thomas' lips but you averted your eyes before he noticed you watching.

"Lizzie is a secretary now, John," You played along, most comfortable with the younger brother. John's shining eyes were glued to you as you searched for your door key.

Arthur scoffed and mumbled against the lip of the bottle, "Yeah, Tommy's secretary." Nobody acknowledged the insinuation that hung in the air.

Opening your front door, you turned to the three men, slightly less afraid than you once were, "Thank you for driving me home. Goodnight."

"Night love," John and Arthur responded; Arthur's deep grumble and John's cheery lilt. They turned their attention back to the whiskey, fighting over it like children.

Before you shut the door, Thomas stepped closer to you, exhaling smoke through his nose. Did he want to come in? Payment for the lift home? Or, payment for the lift home? Whatever it was, your stomach felt like you swallowed a tonne of lead.

"Is everything okay, Mr Shelby?" Your voice carried between you, like a dainty flower ready to wilt.

"Tell Lizzie," He began, his cigarette hanging from his lips as he reached into his pocket, "That she's to come to work early tomorrow."

Folded paper money appeared from his pocket and suddenly the wad of cash was in your palm.

"Is- Is this for Lizzie?" You stuttered, blushing like a maiden at your suggestion. There was something heart-stopping about being the subject of Thomas Shelby's arresting gaze.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at you, taking his cigarette between his fingers and looking you up and down. Shit, was that the wrong thing to say? The Peaky Blinders never harmed women but that wasn't a comfort as you stood in front of him.

"Come on Tommy! It's fucking freezing!" Arthur yelled from the car. Thomas ignored him and threw his cigarette to the pavement.

"It's yours,” He said as if it was obvious, “Whores working behind The Garrison is bad for business."

That bastard! Lizzie told you all about her sessions with Thomas Shelby. Prostitution is only acceptable when he's doing the fucking?

"I'm not a charity nor a bookie you can bribe Mr Shelby," You pressed the money to his chest, "Save your white knight persuasion for Lizzie. Goodnight."

The sound of John and Arthur's laughter disappeared behind the wooden door, as you slammed it in Thomas' face. Muffled conversation between the brothers carried into the house, relieving you once the car drove away.

You had only been in your bedroom for a moment before gentle footsteps hurried across the landing.

"Is everything okay? I saw the Bentley parked outside," Thelma's brows were furrowed and she pulled her robe taunt against her body, peering into your bedroom.

"Yes," You nodded, slightly out of breath from your racing heart, "The Shelby brothers drove me home."

Thelma's jaw dropped, "With- Is Lizzie with you?"

Shaking your head, you draped your bag over the railing of your bed frame and unpinned your hair in front of the mirror.

"They said she was flirting with a BSA man. Caught me on my knees behind The Garrison," You flushed, failing to keep a straight face. Thelma burst into a fit of giggles.

Through the mirror, you saw her covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her amusement. You turned to face her, giggling at the ridiculousness of it.

"I'm sorry I don't mean to laugh," She sat at the bottom of your bed, as you unlaced your dress.

Living with other women was a comfortable situation but living with other whores was even more so. Who else would you go to for a second opinion if you thought you had the clap?

Your dress fell to the floor in a ripple of fabric and your heels were kicked off, "No it is funny. John is sweet. Arthur was drunk and loud.."

"..and Thomas?" Thelma goaded with a teasing grin.

"I slammed the door in his face," You winced and Thelma gasped," Do you think Lizzie will be mad at me? I couldn't help myself."

As much as Lizzie protested, it was glaringly obvious that she was in love with Thomas Shelby. When he started meeting with her on a regular basis, her heavy pockets and orgasmic bliss clouded her judgement. It would be hard for any of you to not fall in love with a client who makes you cum. Now she was his secretary but nobody was disillusioned by that title and, after a few drinks, she giddily confirmed that he bent her over his desk semi-regularly.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think that he loved her too but a man like Thomas Shelby was not bound by such silly notions.

Thelma giggled with a warm smile, "The sun shines out of his cock as far as she's concerned, but she’ll get over it.”

Giggling along, you hoped that Lizzie would be a few drinks in and find the whole ordeal hilarious...

[nottsangel]

ari’s 6k fic recs !!

omg thank you so much for 6k!! i’m so grateful for each of my followers and also the friends that I have made on here. i love you all so much 🤍

this post consists of amazing fics from (some of) my talented mutuals, because they deserve all the recognition and love for their incredible writing! please check out their blogs and fics!

navigation | masterlist

[ stranger things ]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ EDDIE MUNSON

ace of spades by @roses-of-eden

this blurb by @f4irydaydreams

lost boys by @urlmeeks

lipstick stains by @delehosies

frozen strawberries by @sapphireplums

soldier, poet, king by @bunnywritesmarvel

my girl by @vnusrot

bed confessions by @kissitbttr

what could have been by @delilahsroses

angelic by @86munson

eddie’s pretty girl by @fairyverse

farewell, says the hero by @ladyvesuvia

thunderstorms by @ariesl0ves3ddiemuns0n

mine by @prttydolls smut

make up by @ameliora-j smut

glory by @eddiemunsonbrxinrot smut

not the type by @creme-bruhlee smut

slippery when wet by @lilacletter smut

come crawling faster by @morwap smut

summer nights by @chaoticmunson smut

feeding on the innocent by @milkiangl smut

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ STEVE HARRINGTON

your silence kills me by @blackthunder137

ditch the books by @desireav

needed by @mirclealignr

illusion by @bloomsunfold

on purpose by @moonlane

this blurb by @saintlessmunson

wandering mind by @honeymunson

battle of starcourt by @eddiesfairy

this blurb by @heavqn smut

this blurb by @unsheath smut

your angel by @my-my-only-angel smut

heaven or las vegas by @blondedmuse smut

breakups and makeups by @bellatrixscurls smut

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ STEDDIE

this blurb by @munsonsdreamgirl

priests daughter by @heartvouge smut

sex, drugs, etc by @wwinterwitch smut

rock the night by @stranger-nightmare smut

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ROBIN BUCKLEY

sweet like honey by @bons-bon

the girl of her dreams by @moonbcrry

this blurb by @snowflakeicicles smut

despite everything, i love you by @wrenniebaby smut

[ harry potter ]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ DRACO MALFOY

skinny dipping by @nottluvr

when their eyes met by @lazydreamer19

not enough time by @thehalfbloodedwitch

flower field by @dr4cosimp

white roses by @slytherin-princess247

dracula by @cupids-crystals

filthy by @dr4cking smut

sleepy by @elysian-i smut

[houxe]

Regarding my SBI/DSMP Fics

TW: Abuse, Trauma, and Mentions of Suicide.

With all that has happened, I did want to come out here and make my stance clear. I will always stand with Shelby (Shubble) and all of the victims who are speaking out against Will Gold (Wilbur Soot). If you still support that bastard, unfollow me and leave my blog and whatever small community I made.

I've already stated this is my Discord channel, but I want to put it here too.

For me, c!Wilbur is so far removed from cc!Wilbur that I don't connect the two. The characters are vessels for my own characterizations and stories. It's a bit like writing Supernatural*, Twilight, or Hazbin Hotel fanfics. I don't support the guy, monetarily or otherwise, he does not interact with fanfics, I have plans to be very vocal that I'm on Shelby's side no matter what/make it clear that what Will did is wrong, and I don't use his real life events as plots in my stories. At least, I certainly don't try to. It's why I typically change traits about the characters. (I.e. Tommy is shorter, Phil is taller, Techno is bulky, and Wilbur always has golden/hazel eyes.)

I'm aware that it's a tad different because it's rp and not something like a full on book or an actor in a movie, but DSMP has also been over for over two years and the characterizations I make for SBI are not at all based on the CCs. Real life Techno isn't a literal terrorist, Phil ain't a father married to a goddess, Tommy is not a traumatized child soldier, and Wilbur isn't suicidal and blowing up countries.

I think I'll likely focus more on Techno, Tommy, and Phil for a while, but I'm not gonna let one dude ruin a fandom and things I've made for myself. Nothing I write is ever made for Wilbur, as I've seen people saying. Additionally, Wilbur was not the only writer. Technoblade, Philza, TommyInnit, and so many others made that story what it was. Not him.

However, if any CCs come forward saying they don't want their old characters interacting with his, I will respect that.

Though I do think there is a tendency to take real life events (i.e. Techno's cancer, LJ's music, Tommy's real life parents, etc.) and put them into fiction about DSMP. I, however, don't try to do that and have stated before that I don't feel comfortable doing so. The truth is that we have not gotten any genuine SBI content outside of DSMP for years. The dynamic in real life is very different from what was presented in the DSMP. Did personalities still bleed over? Yes, I'm not going to deny that, but I'm not going to act like they're exactly the same between character and person either. We've had that conversation like in 2021, it's why we have C! and CC!.

The rather sad truth is, SBI is what got me really into writing and it's a comfort for me that nothing can compare to. Obviously, I don't think it's appropriate to be writing certain types of stories right now or to be involving characters made by CCs outside of the DSMP. I think it's up to everyone else to decide on what they want to do, however, rushing it also isn't the way to go either. Give yourself time to heal and think it over first instead of throwing away something that gives you comfort and has not been associated with by the creators for over two years.

Anyways, fuck Will Gold. Fuck the fact that he hurt so many people, and fuck that he lied and manipulated his way around the damn internet. ESPECIALLY fuck the fact that he tried to diminish what he did and not take proper accountability.

Go and support Shelby so so much, she and everyone who spoke out really deserve it. I'm glad silence on these types of issues is not being normalized.

Here is a list of (American) resources for DV help:

TNLR

RAINN

WOAR

Love is respect

The Trevor project

Futures without violence

National domestic violence hotline

Resource on what DV and abuse looks like

*Changed it from Harry Potter to Supernatural because Harry Potter is a significantly worse and more problematic franchise, even just within the content of the books. It'd be better left in the dust. I've talked about it before, but it was the first thing that came to my mind at the time and was a poor comparison on my part, I'm truly sorry for that.