#another therapist goes missing ((:

[bxnnie-bxwl]

evil rabbits

[justevelynnnn]

Drabble for a protective logan of a pregnant!reader

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, a bit of feral logan, childbirth..

A/N: ive had this prompt on my mind for a whileee however i don’t think this will have a follow up cause i got kinda lazy towards the end

- He knows before you do honestly. Strong sense of smell and all that jazz. But also he senses your heart rate slightly increase even though you’re not doing anything

- You smell different..almost…sweeter? At least to him.

- A week after he noticed you tell him how you missed your period and he just just looks at you and nods like “duh, you’re pregnant…”

- You still go to Jean to get an ultrasound and what do ya know, there’s a bun in the oven!

- Immediately after it’s officially confirmed Logan forbids you to go on anymore missions or really do…anything..

- Going out with Storm? Where? Why? No, no, no stay here it’s too dangerous out there..

- He didn’t let you lift anything, do chores, cook…

- Nope nope nope just stay there.

- As time goes on you get a bit annoyed but you’ll admit it’s cute seeing him like this.

- He cuddles with you every single night, arm protectively slung around your belly. He kisses it every night and then your forehead. He’s so soft with you..

- As your bump started to show he just couldn’t stop looking. He was surprisingly very excited to be a father. He was gonna raise this kid right. Protect them from any harm as much as he can. You included.

- He’s always been protective over you but now?

- One day, You were trying to reach something and Scott comes by, noticing you need help and walks over to help you reach whatever you want. Unfortunately for him, Logan saw this from around the corner and also saw how Scott gently touched your side as he helped you.

- Logan saw red. He snarls and then lunged at Scott and damn near bites him. Scott jumps back a bit, startled by the sudden feralness.

- “Don’t. Touch. Her. Again. Got it, Summers?” Logan growled angrily.

- Scott just nodded and then quickly left.

- You scolded Logan immediately after but Logan ignored you and just looked at you for any “marks”

- So after that no one was to ever touch you unless it was Jean doing a check up. Or another mutant if she couldn’t.

- Logan didn’t care. In his mind he was keeping you 100% safe. From harm..germs…whatever

- He’d make you wear his clothes so his “scent” would be on you and also because your clothes were getting too tight

- Whatever you craved, he’d get it.

- If you wanted water at 4am, he’s up and going to get it immediately, like he wasn’t just sleeping moments before

- Back hurting? He’s now a licensed massage therapist.

- Someone’s cooking food that’s making you gag? He’s going into the kitchen and scolding whoever’s cooking.

- That one was a bit embarrassing but they never really minded and understood you were pregnant

- After a while you started to become more and more out of breath so now you reallyyyy couldn’t do anything. You had to beg Logan to at least let you get some fresh air or something because staying in bed all day was not the answer even if your feet were swelling and you back was killing you.

- He’d walk with you outside as you talked about your day and he just listened. He’d ask about the baby and how you felt and how he felt about becoming parents

- He was more cuddly when you neared the end of your third trimester. Hugging you more, kissing you more, talking to your now huge stomach and rubbing it and feeling when the baby kicked

- You both didn’t know if the baby was gonna be a mutant or not or the gender or anything but just knew it was healthy and that was honestly enough

- You decided to deliver at the mansion because well, the hospitals nearby did not like or tend to mutants at all..

- You started getting braxton hicks here and there and you knew the baby had dropped. It was getting hard to move and the mansion was on edge. Logan especially.

- He’d pace around you as you groan and winced in pain but told him, “False alarm honey…just another hick..”

- But was it? What if it’s time? What if you two ignore this and then it’s too late? What if something is wrong and and-

- There was alot of calming Logan down now..reassuring you’re fine

- A week before you were due, you were thrown a baby shower.

- It was Rogues idea and everyone gave you a little something. Diapers, Toys, bottles…

- They had all your favorite foods from your pregnancy, even the super weird cravings

- You cried.

- Logan got mad when he saw you cry. “Who did this?? Why is she crying? Was it you, Summers? Why i outta-“

- You tell him you’re just very happy and emotional right now and not sad. And, no, Scott did nothing wrong so please put him down oh my gosh…

- It’s true you were very emotional and hormonal the whole time and you were so ready to be done

- A week later, in the middle of the night you got up to use the bathroom for the 5th time. Not wanting to wake up Logan over and over just to walk to the bathroom, you went alone, waddling to the door.

- The second you got there though there you immediately started leaking. And you would’ve been embarrassed of you didn’t immediately have the worst braxton, no….this wasn’t that…this was more…

- “Logan. Logan!”

- Logan jumped up and and ran over to you asking what happened and what’s wrong..

- You start to tell him and suddenly you’re hit again with another contraction

- It was time.

- Logan woke up everyone he could after getting you tot he medical room.

- He left the students be but it’s not like they couldn’t hear you yelling anyways

- He stood by you the entire time as you squeezed his hand and cried in pain. He almost growled at Jean hooking you up the machines but he knew it was to monitor if you and the baby were okay.

- He was so focused on you that he didn’t care for everyone crowding also but when it was time to push he barked for everyone to get back even Jean

- He let you squeeze the life out of his hand as you pushed and encouraged you the whole time and wiped your forehead

- And after several minutes of this chaos…

- “Congratulations…you guys are now officially parents!” Jean says as she holds the crying newborn baby.

- As she helped lay the baby on your bare chest, you and Logan just smiled at your child.

[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[the-clumsywitchtarot]

Pick-a-Card Reading: What Will Your Life be Like with Your Future Spouse?

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Cards

5 of Cups (Reversed)

6 of Pentacles

5 of Wands (Reversed)

9 of Cups (Reversed)

2 of Pentacles (Reversed)

With the five of cups in reverse, the six of pentacles, and the five of wands in reverse I feel like you and your future spouse will end up working together in a field that helps people to overcome mental health challenges. So you two could be social workers, therapists, or something similar. But with the nine of cups and two of pentacles in reverse I see a propensity towards you two becoming unfulfilled in your marriage and being hyper focused on your work. This is something to watch out for but if you too try to maintain a balance between your work and your marriage, I think you guys will be fine. I don't see this being a whirlwind romance but rather a practical union between two people that know what they want out of life.

Cards

Knight of Pentacles

Knight of Swords

3 of Wands (Reversed)

8 of Pentacles (Reversed)

7 of Pentacles

"Effortless" is what I am hearing for you and your future spouses life together, I feel like this pile has been waiting for their happily ever after for what feels like a while. And when you express what you want in a relationship people might tell you that kind of marriage doesn't exist in real life but I have a feeling what some people view as unrealistic will be your reality. I can see you two loving to be with each other and never needing a break from one another. I feel like you two will love each other's company so much that you'll even miss each other if one of you goes to the grocery store down the street and the other is at home. I also see money flowing to you guys easily, I don't think you'll be millionaires but I don't think money will ever be an issue.

Cards

Page of Pentacles

King of Swords

9 of Swords

Queen of Swords (Reversed)

Knight of Wands (Reversed)

I feel like you two trigger each other but in a good way, not in a toxic way. You guys bring up each other's shadow but in a soothing way if that makes any sense, like you'll point something out to your future spouse or vice versa but you guys help each other through it. As opposed to some marriages where it's like you have issues, now fix them on your own. You guys will help each other to become your best selves in a loving gentle way. For some reason I'm really picking up on kids with this pile, if you choose to have them they will be so well adjusted, loved, and capable of understanding themselves. I see you guys being amazing parents, so much so that if you had strained relationships with your own parents it will bring you closer to them. Because by watching you as parents they will recognize their own parenting faults.

Please let me know if your reading resonated and always remember not to make a decision based on a reading unless it's one you feel completely comfortable with. Thank you for visiting my tarot page!

All the best to you,

Erika, The Clumsy Witch

[mylove-iv]

⠀𐔌 . ⋮ red tiger balm .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ʚ narumi gen x fem, physical therapist! reader ɞ

synopsis: during a joint training conference between the first and third divisions, many notice how captain narumi gen seems to have fallen head over heels for you but what they don't catch is that you both smell like spiced mint, cinnamon, and clove.

genres: fluff, romance.

content warnings: profane language (it's gen duh).

word count: 1.1k words.

author's note: inspired by my love for the warm scent of red tiger balm and how much i love narumi gen ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

‎‧₊ ─ masterlist .ᐟ ༘

Narumi Gen smells of spiced mint, cinnamon, and clove.

It’s a subtle warm medicinal smell that clears one’s nose when Narumi walks past or when one stands near him.

Some days, it’s faint and nearly indistinguishable but whenever Tuesday rolls around and their Captain returns from his off-base day off, the same spicy camphor scent never fails to make a full return subtly with its strong aroma sticking closely to Japan’s Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.

It’s become a running gag within the first division that Narumi’s part-time job during the colder seasons where runny and stuffy noses are at an all time high is being everyone’s Vick’s vapor rub.

But one winter’s Monday morning, kaiju alarms ring throughout Tokyo and many bear witness to the palpable irritation on Narumi Gen’s face as he arrives on base.

Amid the smoke and ash lingering through the air, those working directly with the Captain note the unusual absence of the scent of spiced mint, cinnamon, and clove that Narumi normally smells of. 

Another thing many officers of the First Division also notice is that along with the aroma’s absence is that it goes hand in hand with Narumi’s intensified impatience and snark as he barked harsh order after harsh order.

Many are unsure on which cologne, balm, or hell, even perfume the First Division’s Captain uses to attain such a fresh and warm scent yet none dare ask their quick-tempered Captain.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

When the joint training conference between the First and Third Division rolls around at the Tachikawa base, it doesn’t take long for platoon leaders and a few officers of the First Division to catch onto how their Captain’s soft currant red eyes seems to latch onto you, the Third Division’s resident physical therapist.

Members of both divisions soon bear witness to how Narumi’s gaze always seems to be searching for you and how they soften whenever you enter the same room he was in. 

They also don’t miss how he always seems to be at a loss of words whenever you speak to him, a gentle yet sweet smile on your face as you ask him if his shoulder is still tight and how much adoration fills his usually tired eyes whenever he's in your presence.

It then clicks to many that Narumi Gen, Captain of the first Division and Japan’s strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant, has a big fat crush on the Third Division’s physical therapist.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

With Narumi’s constant visits to you under the guise of tight muscles and achy limbs, it’s become routine for Hoshina to tease him relentlessly.

You’ve just finished sanitizing your therapy table when a soft knock rasps itself against the wood of your office door.

Humming a sweet ‘come in,’ your irises meet soft currant red ones and a honeyed smile is tugging at your lips when you see Captain Narumi in your doorway.

“Captain Narumi,” Your voice is a bit breathy due to your fumble of pausing at the sight of him but he’s entranced nonetheless. “How can I help you?”

It takes him an embarrassing moment to formulate a response to your question but he quickly rasps out, “My wrist is actin’ up again.”

Worry floods your eyes and Narumi savors how your eyes trail from his own down his body and to his right wrist.

It’s greedy of him to watch eagerly how your teeth sinks into your bottom lip in concern but a pang of disappointment tinges his chest as your eyes move off his body and to his left.

He follows your gaze silently and Narumi doesn’t bother hiding the pure indignation on his face when his eyes meet deep wine red ones.

Are you fucking kidding me?

“Narumi, what can I do for ya?” Hoshina’s grin widens as Narumi’s eyes stretches open when that bowl-cut jerk sits himself in front of you—infuriatingly close—on the therapy table.

Your eyes look apologetic enough to soothe the jealousy raging in Narumi, “I’m sorry Captain Narumi but Vice-Captain Hoshina has an appointment with me currently.”

Hoshina 1, Narumi 0.

He feels like a kicked puppy. “But please wait, I’ll take you in after treating Vice Captain Hoshina.” You words have him perking up, a small lovesick grin tugging at his face before he’s padding out your door, not before sparing a withering glare towards Hoshina whose grin becomes a bit more teasing.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

After a bit of waiting, your head pops out from your office and Narumi’s chest tightens when you smile oh so sweetly. “Sorry for the wait Cap, but come on in.”

He’s aching to be near you so when you disappear further into your office and Hoshina walks past him, the smell of mint and menthol wafts in his nose.

Narumi’s nose wrinkles at the scent, huffing in distaste causing Hoshina to snicker slightly before the former is shutting the door and seating himself onto your therapy table, thighs spreading slightly as you set yourself between them. 

“It’s your shoulder again, hm?” You murmur softly, fingers tweaking the muscle beneath his clavicle, feeling how tight they were before moving a bit further up, causing Narumi to wince gently.

“Mh.” Narumi hums as his eyes flutter to a close, basking in your warmth as he enjoys the the smell of spiced mint, cinnamon, and clove permeating through your office space.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

The week-long joint training conference draws to a close and many, especially those of the First Division, have gotten sick and tired of the longing glances their Captain continuously throws at you.

He hasn’t even made a move on you yet for fuck’s sake! Many groan in their heads as both division Captains and Vice Captains salute to each other as a thanks.

You stand beside your division Captain, Ashiro Mina, with a gentle smile on your face and many hold their breath when Narumi takes a step towards you.

Please make a move! Officers of both divisions pray before they watch with a bated breath when Narumi takes your hand sweetly, placing a gentle kiss atop your knuckles as your cheeks tint pink.

Jaws then drop as Narumi’s other hand trails along your jaw before taking your chin and pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

It’s takes way too long before someone reacts. “Narumi, get yer damn lips off my pt!” Hoshina hollers, disbelief lining his features as his eyes are wide open in shock.

“What?” The mentioned captain grunts, eyes glaring at the said man as his next words leaves everyone speechless.

Cause who would've thought that Narumi Gen has the balls to-

“Is it so wrong to kiss my wife?” Narumi snarks causing an uproar between both divisions as you laugh sweetly, forcing his eyes to latch onto your pretty face as enamored expression settles itself on his face when you look up at him so lovingly.

Fuck, my wife is so pretty! Narumi finds himself thinking like the lovesick fool he is for you.

© 2024 𝐌𝐘𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆-𝐈𝐕. do not copy, repost, share, or translate any of my works to tiktok, instagram, and/or any other websites/platforms.

[uncle-fruity]

HEY! HEY, YOU! YEAH! YOU!

Have you ever heard the phrase, "Your friends aren't your therapists"?

If you've been on the internet enough, I think it's a sentiment that's pretty difficult to miss.

But you know what that means, right?

It's meant to warn people not to place too much personal baggage onto their friends when they should be unpacking it with a professional. It's to say that venting to your friends shouldn't be your main source of coping. That is to say: most of your friends are probably unqualified to untangle complex emotional & mental health problems, and if you expect them to endlessly listen to your problems & have them help "fix" you, then that's usually going to end up in stress and tension in your relationship (or worse).

Do you know what "Your friends aren't your therapists" DOESN'T mean?

It DOESN'T mean that you shouldn't ever seek any emotional support from your friends or that you should keep all your problems to yourself.

Yes, it's important to establish boundaries in all your relationships. If there's something you'd rather not hear from your friends (and vice versa) that should be talked about if it ever becomes relevant. If your friend is easily overwhelmed by a lot of emotion/stimulus, then you shouldn't dump serious emotional things without checking in to see if it's okay first. Over time, in a healthy communicative relationship, you get a feel for what's okay and what's not.

But goodness fucking me when I see folks say that they don't deserve to express their harder emotions because "friends aren't your therapists" I just... I mean woof y'all!

What kind of friend is a friend that doesn't care if you're upset? What kind of friend sees you struggling with something and tells you to deal with your own problems because they don't owe you anything? What kind of friend comes around only if you hide your pain at all times?

A fair-weather friend, that's what kind. A friend that's only around for the good times, and goes away during (metaphorical) storms.

If someone only wants to be a fair-weather friend, that's their prerogative. But I'm telling you all that you deserve the kind of friendship where your friends actually give a fuck about you. You deserve to take up space sometimes. You deserve to get heavy things off your chest with someone you love and trust.

If you want better, stronger, healthier friendships, it's important to understand that intimacy is about Knowing and Seeing and Experiencing someone authentically. Taking off whatever mask we wear to get through the world and being ourselves and sharing that with another person. Anger, pain, grief... tackling these issues with each other builds trust and intimacy and makes everyone involved feel more important & needed & cared about. Isn't that what all this is for?

Anyway, this is all to say: be open about your emotions. Communicate with your friends (& tbh in all your relationships). Learn each other's boundaries, but don't shut each other out just because emotions are scary to navigate at times.

Please be kinder to yourself. Seek intimate friendships, AND seek professional help when you need more support than your friends can provide. Just don't assume your friends can't give you any support! Assume that they love you and trust that they will tell you if they're at their limit. And if they *are* at their limit or if they just aren't comfortable with some conversations, respect that & don't try to force it onto them.

This has been a PSA. Thank you.

[cameronspecial]

I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao

So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind

You Deserve Better

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist

The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.

Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.

———

Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled. 

He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.

“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”

“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”

“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”

Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her. 

———

She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back. 

———

By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs. 

He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 

“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.

She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”

“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?” 

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[junkdrawerfics]

Gonna ask me to dance, Cowboy?

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: Reader was in an accident that damaged her spinal cord and left her temporarily wheelchair bound. It's during this time that the Cullens move to Forks, and she meets and falls in love with Jasper. A little bit of your story, wrapped up with a big surprise at the end. Requested by @twilightlover2007

Words: 2457

Note: Obviously went with Jasper and boy did this take on a life of its own! I hope you like it!!! It's a little cheesy, but that's what I like.

Disclaimer: I have limited knowledge of temporary paralysis and life with a wheelchair. If I'm wrong about anything, please let me know!

---

The accident happened before the Cullens moved to Forks. You don’t remember much of it, which the doctor says can be common given the head trauma you experienced. All you know is that you were driving home from a game and a drunk driver decided not to stop at the red light.

The accident left you with some severe damage to your spinal cord. Not irreversible, but enough to strand you in a wheelchair. It took almost two months alone for the fractures in your leg to heal, and then another to find a good physical therapist in Seattle who could work with you.

In the midst of this, the Cullens showed up. And you fell for Jasper like a newborn fawn trying to walk for the first time. A fitting comparison considering your legs worked just as well. 

Your friends thought you were crazy. Afterall, he was the least…approachable of the group. Always frowning. Not at all talkative. Everyone thought he was a bit of a grouch. But you knew better.

You met the real Jasper the first Friday after they arrived. It was another game day, meaning your little high school was going all out cheering for the team throughout the day (even though everyone knew you didn’t stand a fighting chance). 

You were making your way to the pep rally at the end of the day when someone jostled you from behind, sending your wheelchair right over the sidewalk’s ledge and into the grass. You cursed the school’s outdoor hallways so hard that day. It was raining, as it always was, and the moment your wheels hit the ground, you could feel them sink into the mud.

You were effectively trapped.

Or at least, you thought you were. Until a certain blond appeared out of nowhere.

---

“Are you alright, miss?”

You huff out a laugh, trying to keep a smile despite it all, “Yah, yes, I’m okay. Just a little stu-”

When you look up, the words get stuck in your throat. Jasper Hale. Jasper Hale is standing right in front of you, in the rain, hair already sticking to his face, and despite the concern dripping from his features, you can’t help but notice how absolutely gorgeous he is. How did you not notice before?

Before you can stop yourself, the thoughts spill out of your mouth, “Wow, you’re really pretty.”

Shock flickers across the blond’s face, though it’s quickly replaced by a soft smirk that makes his eyes crinkle just a little, somehow making him look more attractive. You blink. And blink. And blink. Until what you said finally sinks in.

Your face goes impossibly red. 

“I am so sorry,” you squeak, eyes wide. His smile only widens when you continue to sputter, “I’m fine! Really. And um, I, you can, you don’t have to worry! I’ll just-”

You try to push yourself forward, anything to escape this moment, but your wheels just spin futilely in the mud. You’re not going anywhere, not without help, and Jasper seems to know that, his gold eyes glinting with amusement. You purse your lips, face only going darker.

“Would you like help, darlin’?” Jasper asks, voice low and honey-like, and wow - it seems so unfair for someone to look so handsome and sound like that too.

You cast him an embarrassed smile, “Yes please. If you really don’t mind, that is.”

The blond chuckles, the sound making your heart flutter. He makes it look effortless, the way he maneuvers you out of the grass and back onto the hallway sidewalk. You hum happily when you’re back on solid ground, wheeling back and forth a bit to dislodge the mud from your rims.

“That’s better,” you sigh, spinning back to face him, “Thank you so much.”

Jasper nods, “It was my pleasure, miss.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Please, call me (Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n). Miss makes me feel so old, and I’m like, a hundred percent sure you’re older than me.”

Something flickers behind his eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it came. 

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/n).” You narrow your eyes, but he only grins a little teasingly, which you refuse to admit makes your pulse race even more. “The name’s Jasper Hale.”

“Nice to meet you too, Jasper.” Officially at least.

“I suppose you were headin’ to the rally?”

Your nose scrunches,“Yep. Before the impromptu shower, at least.”

“Would y’mind if I accompany you?” 

Blinking, you glance up at him in surprise. Jasper just looks down at you, face still set in a charming, calm smile, so different from the scowl you’d grown accustomed to in passing. He’s being genuine. Actually genuine. It makes your face go warm all over again.

“I think I’d like that.”

---

You don’t know what possessed Jasper Hale to help you that day, but he did.

From then on, you and Jasper became friends. He was still a bit odd, but his whole family was. And you liked them. Even Rosalie, whose bluntness was refreshing compared to most of the girls at your school. You befriended all of them, but you and Jasper were particularly close.

Falling for him was easy. Between the soft smile he seemed to reserve only for you and the way he always supported you, how could you not? You realized it after a particular hard day of physical therapy, when your legs were aching and it felt like you were making absolutely no progress. It was a day that Jasper offered to pick you up because your dad had to work late.

---

Jasper can tell you’re upset before he even reaches you.

You sit at the entrance to the rehab center, head ducked, fingers fidgeting in your lap. You see Jasper’s shoes first before he’s kneeling in front of you, honey eyes dark with concern as they flicker over your features. You look back at him, eyes blurry with unshed tears.

The blond’s gaze softens, “Oh, darlin’.”

And you break.

All the pent up frustration and guilt you’ve been holding onto comes pouring out. You manage to stay quiet, barely, but your whole body trembles with your tears as you collapse forward into Jasper’s arms. He holds you close, not saying a word, just humming softly into your hair.

The longer you stay like that, the calmer you feel. It’s like magic, the storm of your emotions calming to a dull roar, until you can take in a few deep breaths

It’s only when your hiccuping goes quiet that he draws you back, eyes scanning you again. You glance down, feeling too raw, too vulnerable like this, with his thoughtful gaze burning over you. But you also feel undeniably safe somehow.

“You’re doin’ so well, darlin,” he eventually murmurs, voice low, soothing your frayed edges. “I know you’ve been hurtin’ and you’re feelin’ like giving up, but we’re all so proud of you. Someday you’ll be back on your feet and I’ll be here ‘til that day comes. And long after it.”

It’s the most you think you’ve ever heard him say at once. His words ring with something so genuine, you can’t help but melt.

“Thanks, Jasper.”

“Always, darlin.”

---

It felt like more than a promise about that day. More than just a friend being there for another friend. And it was the moment you realized you really liked Jasper Hale. 

It was only a matter of time before you learned about his world.

None of them told you, of course. They couldn’t. But the truth was hard to deny when a lone vampire came through Forks and almost killed you. 

You knew it was a bad idea to go out by yourself. Even though your legs were getting stronger from your perseverance in physical therapy, you still couldn’t walk by yourself. Which made you quite the easy target.

Luckily, Jasper was just in time to save you.

After the shock, though, came all your questions. Why did that man try to bite you? How did Jasper throw him all the way down the alley? How did he know where to find you and that you were in trouble?

A silently distraught Jasper ended up taking you back to the Cullen house. The air was tense, except for Alice, who was more than excited. She foresaw it all, of course.

Carlisle explained it all to you as Jasper paced off to the side. A scowl lingered on his lips, his eyes set on something distant. The moment you felt a flicker of panic though, he was there, kneeling at your side, smoothing a hand over your shoulder. You covered his with your own, holding on so tightly that if he were human, he'd probably be hissing in pain. You had a good grip strength from wheeling around for a few months.

It took time to settle into this new reality. Jasper gave you space to process, scared to push you too hard, but you wouldn’t have it. Vampire or not, you couldn’t stand the distance. You hadn’t realized just how ingrained he was in your life until then. Whenever something happened, no matter how small it was, you wanted to rush to him and tell him everything. You hated life without him.

So you ended up asking him out.

Dating came as naturally as breathing. Nothing changed. He still drove you to physical therapy and walked you to all of your classes. Only now, he would press a kiss to your forehead when you parted ways and take you on dates after every p.t. appointment. 

You had never been happier.

That’s when you came up with an idea for the upcoming school formal.

---

“You ready, darlin?” Jasper pauses at your side of the car, wheelchair pulled out and set up behind him.

You grin, squashing the nerves buzzing in your chest before he can sense them, “Yes! Now help me out of here, mister.”

The blond chuckles. He helps you down from the car, touch overwhelmingly tender, as if he’s scared of breaking you. Which, you suppose, he could. You settle into your wheelchair with practiced ease, your dress only causing a little trouble.

The night starts off perfectly. You take your pictures and meet up with his siblings inside the venue. Everything is beautiful. As usual, Forks high went all out with the theme. It’s something cheesy, like ‘a night under the stars’, everything draped in a deep navy blue, the ceiling decorated with shimmering stars.

When the dancing starts, you give Alice the cue. She sends you a little wink before dashing off to the dj booth. You catch Edward grinning out of the corner of your eye. It was impossible to keep him out of it, what with the whole mind reading thing, so you just shoot the man a playful glare. He stifles a chuckle, making an excuse to go get some punch, despite the fact he can’t drink it.

Sighing softly, you steel your nerves, spinning back to your boyfriend.

“Hey,” you call, catching the cuff of his suit.

Jasper’s eyes turn to you, and oh, wow, you’ll never get used to that. The way he looks at you, it’s like you’re one of the stars decorating the night. His eyes glow with an overwhelming warmth and something so so fond. All of a sudden it feels like you’re the only two in the room, everything else fading away.

“Yes, darlin?”He hums, slipping your hand into his to brush his thumb over your knuckles.

The touch sends sparks cascading over your skin, settling in your chest among the wild butterflies. You bite your lip to try and hold back a massive smile.

“You gonna ask me to dance, cowboy?” You tease.

A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.

Jasper makes a show of pretending to tip a hat, voice bright with amusement, “My apologies ma’am. I shouldn’t have kept you waitin’.”

“Mmm, I’ll forgive you,” you hum, biting back a laugh, “just this once, Mister Hale.”

“That’s very kind of you, darlin. Now, would you give me the pleasure of escortin’ you to the dance floor?”

“Why, of course.”

Jasper figures he’ll hold you up as you dance, or maybe spin you while you sit. Anything you want.

Except you do neither of those things. Instead, you gather every ounce of your strength, and shakily push yourself to your feet. Your wheelchair disappears (thank you Alice) and you stand there, all on your own.

After a few seconds, you’re certain that your legs won’t give out, and glance up at the blond expectantly.

Jasper stares back at you, eyes wide, brows arched. It almost looks like he’s forgotten to breathe, his whole body rigid. Shocked. Your grin finally breaks loose, so wide it makes your cheeks ache. Squeezing his hand, you take a tentative step closer. A little wobbly, but you stay standing. It’s only one step, but -

You’re walking.

In an instant, Jasper’s hands are cupping your face, and it’s only then you realize you’re crying. Tears race down around your smile and he’s quick to wipe them away, drawing you close so he can rest your foreheads together.

“My Lord, darlin-” He lets out a breathless laugh. “-you’re goin’ t’make this old man’s heart start again.”

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Been a long time since I’ve been surprised.”

“But I did?”

“Yes, you certainly did.”

Jasper leans down, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft, featherlight, and you feel like you’re floating. It’s perfect. Everything about it is perfect and so much better than you expected.

The vampire pulls back, just enough to whisper against your lips, “You’re amazin’ darlin. Absolutely amazin’.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you hum back, “Now, dance with me, cowboy.”

Your song comes on. The one you first danced with Jasper to in your kitchen, when he set you on his feet and held you close to support your weight. A knowing grin falls across his lips, his eyes creasing as he looks down at you.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Unlike that first time, you don’t have to stand on his feet. You don’t even have to clutch onto him to stay upright. Instead, you rest your hands on his shoulders, and Jasper traces his along your waist. The two of you move together slowly, perfectly.

By the end of it, you’re leaning against him, head tucked under his chin, just soaking in the feeling of his arms around you, his lips pressed to the crown of your head. Your legs are shaking, but you don’t care.

This is everything you could ever ask for.

---

I had fun writing this!! It came really clearly for me, though it ended up being a lot longer than I thought because I wanted to add so much exposition.

[sitp-recs]

Hello! I saw your last rec for Draco being whipped for Harry. Would you have any recs for the reverse situation? Harry being absolutely smitten for Draco. I love when it's mostly from Harry POV and Draco is driving him mad. Does anything come to mind? Thank you for your lovely recs and your presence in the fandom, it's a blessing! 💜

Yes of course! I feel like I did quite a few lists for pining Harry so this one will focus on smitten Harry told from his own pov. I tried to mix old favorites with fics I don’t see recced often. I’d highly recommend checking @tackytigerfic, @bixgirl1 and ignatiustrout as they all explore this trope so beautifully!

Take A Stab At It by @sorrybutblog (E, 3k)

It’s a bit pathetic, Harry knows, to have a hard-on for the guy who bullied you in school. Kind of cliché to look back on years of obsession and hatred and think, Oh.

Hourglass Heart by bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Blue Sky Is Living Here Today by ignatiustrout (G, 5k)

Draco's a father, Harry's in love with him, and it's really hard to take things slow.

The Things They Never Say by bixgirl1 (E, 9k)

Harry and Draco don't know how to talk. So they do other things instead.

Sex Ed for Aurors by curiouslyfic (M, 9k)

Some things, you need to learn on the job.

i wake up falling, orphaned (M, 9k)

Draco’s always leaving, one way or another. Harry’s usually 240 thousand miles too late.

Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 12k)

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

Take the Moon by tackytiger (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…

White as Snow by bixgirl1 (E, 19k)

After a quick escape from danger, Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a blizzard, a small cabin their only refuge from the storm. It's the perfect place to recover and regroup — and to have a long-overdue conversation or two.

We Might Be Too Old for a Bildungsroman by @wellhalesbells (T, 21k)

Harry finds something he’s been looking for since the war’s end. Admittedly, the packaging’s a bit odder than he expected.

With Great Yawns and Stretchings by sugar_screw (T, 22k)

The coffee is very good. Really. And the cats are so cute. That's why Harry goes so often.

On Your Shore by @xanthippe74 (M, 35k)

Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too.

LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 42k)

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

Modern Love by tackytiger (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait?

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own.

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🥛 ┊boba time ┊ Hana #03 ꒱

『♡』 Katsuki decides he hates phlebotomists, nurses and doctors more than just about anything.

『♡』 needles, emotional katsuki, doctor appointments, baby check ups, having a baby and all that comes with it, fluff, post partum check up, everyone say thank you @majorapandahero for the idea (p.s I apologize if anything is innaccurate)

The baby and you have needed an unreal amount of doctors appointments and tests since birth. He knew, somewhere in the back of his head, that it was needed. But it didn’t hit him just how much there was to it until now.

You scheduled your appointments back to back to save on time. Yours has gone smoothly, as you primarily needed a basic post partum check up. It just ensures that all is well and healing smoothly.

The doctor warned the two of you to avoid sex for another week or two, because, apparently it’s just asking for another baby otherwise. He poured a little at that, missing that part of your intimacy.

Your doctor brings up depression, anxiety, and other symptoms you might be having. The look on your face explaining how truly anxious you’ve been is one she knows well. But she refers you to a therapist and names off a few tools for adjusting to life.

She asks how your urinary incontinence is going, if there’s been much or any progress. Your face heats as you explain that not much has changed but you’re working on it. He bounces the baby in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He wonders if she knows, as little as she is, that her mommy keeps wetting herself as a result of her birth.

The halls of the hospital and office are cold and sterile. People bustle through the rooms and cool air wraps around the two of you. The intercom beeps and announces that Dr. Brown is needed in room 203.

Katsuki didn’t have warning. He knew the baby needed some tests done but he didn’t know it would be like this.

The doctor said she was coming along fine, measured her little body and worked around here and there, writing things down. But she said the little one still needed a few things taken care of.

And Katsuki hates it. His arms hold his daughter close, lip quivering. And the woman is gentle, wiping the bottom of Hana’s tiny foot with an alcohol prep pad.

You coo from the side, pressing a kiss to the side of his face and tell him she’s fine. But it’s not, it won’t be. Because the woman does something called a “heel stick” and Hana cries.

And it makes him want to cry. His little baby crying in pain, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Because these tests are necessary. The shots are necessary. His darling girl is squirming and screaming in his grip and he can’t do anything but bouncer her and apologize.

One of your hands begins to rub his back in support and tell him she won’t remember it in a few minutes. But his heart squeezes in his chest.

“We only have one more scheduled, she needs her Hepatitis B vaccine. Doc wanted to go ahead and get it out of the way, since she’s a little over a month now.” The woman reassures, rolling backwards in the chair to throw a few things in a biohazard disposer.

And oh, it’s just about the worse thing he can imagine. Because they have to put her on the stupid, hard table and he can’t hold her the whole time.

His eyes prick with tears watching Hana writhe as the nurse gets ready for the injection. She still hasn’t stopped crying. Fat, ugly tears roll down her face as she hic’s and wails.

“Baby, don’t watch if you can’t.. it’s okay.” You soothe, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand.

It’s over quick and he all but swoops his little girl off the blasphemous table and into his arms. He peppers little kisses all over her face and apologies over and over. He bounces her, kissing her boo boos and she starts to sniffle as he soothes her.

And the phlebotomist snorts a little, chuckles even. She finishes everything up and goes over a few things out loud. Her gloves come off with a snap and she’s cooing at the sight. She glances down at the paperwork and chart next to her, then back up.

“For a big, scary pro, he sure is a softie sometimes huh?” She murmurs, brow lifted as she watches the scene in front of her.

You snort and he turns up his nose, glaring at her.

“I hate these damn places and the shitheads in them.” The blonde grumbles, pressing a kiss to the baby’s cheek and turning away slightly.

She sniffles lightly still, curling further into him.

You smack at his arm and demand he apologize to the poor woman in front of you but she cackles. The doctor allows you three to leave and he spends the entire car ride ranting about how much he hated that.

His face scrunches when you tell him there’s another appointment, only a month later.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Thinking about how actress!reader was a nervous wreck from the moment the phone call ended. Pacing around the hotel suite as you droomscrolled on twitter instead of getting ready for the day. Prompting Miguel to take your phone away, telling you he’s keeping it for the rest of the day.

Bodyguard!Miguel that had barely enough time to properly prepare himself for the flood of European (and American who had traveled) paparazzi that rushed towards you the second you stepped out of the hotel lobby. A surprise yelp leaves your lips at the sensation of Miguel’s large hands pulling you against him, one arm quickly wrapping around your waist as the other pushes away the buzzing swarm around you. Your mind goes into fight or flight mode from all the commotion, unfortunately your body chooses the third, unspoken option: freeze.

Panicked hands go to cover your eyes from the flashing lights, not even thinking about going to grab the sunglasses from your purse. Pupils constricting, your eyes not trained yet to the constant flashing as you attempt to blindly walk through the crowd, your only sense of direction to the car was Miguel. Heart jumping to your throat when you almost miss a step on the hotel stairs.

You couldn’t even hear yourself think over all the noise, people calling your name in an attempt to ask you questions about the rumors, about you and your costar, the constant shuttering of cameras, Miguel shouting at people to stay clear. It was too much.

You knew what you were signing yourself up, the second you signed that dotted line on your manager’s contract. That eventually, you’d activate the stardom you’ve always dreamed of. Your face plastered on big screens, movie posters, you had almost forgotten how quickly those aspirations could turn into something else. Even as a young teen, you watched those TMZ videos of celebrities who had gotten into a scandal being harassed and followed by paparazzi. You always told yourself that if you ever got to that level you’d never do anything to end up in that position.

You didn’t realize that something as simple as gelato could end up so messy.

Bodyguard!Miguel that was finally able to pull you into the car, silence flooding the vehicle as he pulled away from the hotel. Too focused on driving to notice the way your hands trembled in your lap, knuckles turning to white around the hem of your shirt.

Bodyguard!Miguel who was too focused on driving to notice the way your eyes were watering, lashes blinking rapidly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, thanking the lord you wore waterproof mascara today.

Bodyguard!Miguel who was too focused on driving to notice the way your teeth bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from breathing erratically.

Bodyguard!Miguel who finally noticed, when you couldn’t hold it in anymore and let out a shaky sob.

—

Without much thought he pulled into an empty parking space. They were probably going to be a bit late to the meeting your manager had scheduled but they could wait, you weren’t in any condition to leave the car if he didn’t get you to calm down.

“Hey, hey…” His usual deep voice, now soft as he turned to you and pushed the hair out from your face before gently sliding them down. Rough calloused hands enveloping your softer one. “What’s going on? Tell me what’s going on?”

Another sob escaped your throat as you shook your head, not having the strength to speak yet. Miguel tried his best not to release an annoyed sigh, he wasn’t one to comfort others, it wasn’t in his job description, if he wanted to hear about people’s feelings, he would have been a therapist. But something about the way your pretty doe eyes refuse to meet his, and the sight of your usual sweet smile was replaced with trembling lips and distressed sobs. He couldn’t handle the heartache it gave him.

“Okay, just- breathe… take a deep breath.” He muttered gently, treating you almost like a frightened deer, afraid if he came across as too harsh (despite knowing you were used to his usual cold behavior) that you’d close yourself off more. His hands holding yours as he took his own in example, releasing it involuntarily when you took your own.

If you weren’t in the throes of a panic attack, you would have been a bit weirded by his sudden gentle behavior. Or the way that when you went to take your hand away from his to wipe away some tears that he was already on the job, the warmth of his hand making you lean into his touch for a split second.

“I’m-I’m sorry…” You finally spat out as you sniffed, not noticing the way Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed slightly before you continued. Reddening eyes finally open to his concerned gaze. “I-I know that I’d eventually be swarmed by paparazzi in my career. I just wasn’t expecting it to be so soon.” You explained, keeping yourself from hiccuping as much as you can in between words. “I wasn’t prepared for it… embarrassing I know…” You ended your words with a weak chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood, but by the way Miguel’s eyes softened ever so slightly, it was obvious he didn’t find it amusing.

“It’s not.” He shook his head slightly as he brought his hand back up to wipe away a few more lingering tears that released from when you chuckled. “I haven’t been doing this job for that long, but I’ve been doing it long enough to tell you that a lot of celebrities don’t react well to that.” His words made you warm with reassurance, his touch made you feel grounded. “No one would in that position, you’re human. Don’t get embarrassed about your emotions.” For one who usually doesn’t do as much speaking in your dynamic, he sure was good with words.

—

Bodyguard!Miguel who wouldn’t start the car again until the teary-eye expression left your face.

Bodyguard!Miguel who excused your flushed cheeks to the Italian summer weather.

Bodyguard!Miguel who pretended like he didn’t notice the way you looked at him during the rest of the car ride, as if he had suddenly hung the stars and moon. Excusing it on just being a tired-like gaze, emotionally draining from the past hour.

Bodyguard!Miguel who didn’t want to feed on any delusions about his feelings towards you.

Bodyguard!Miguel who made sure you were alright one more time before shutting the car off in the set's parking lot…and one more time before you were in front of the trailer that some of the higher producers used as a makeshift office.

—

“Sorry we’re late.” You said as soon as you entered, eyes immediately falling on the group that was sitting around a table with some coffees. “It was hard to get here with the paparazzi.” Not a complete lie.

“It’s fine.” Your manager said as he motioned for you to join the group, sounding more calm then he did at the table, which you quickly did. Miguel stayed at the corner of the room (as always) as you sat to your manager’s right, and to Peter’s left. Next to Peter was his manager, then the head of Marketing, the director and the lead of both of yours and Peter’s Pr teams. (That you had no Idea where even in the country.)

“So we all were talking about how to tackle this situation before you both came here.” The director started as he looked between you and Peter. “Usually, we would just have you both release a statement saying that there aren't any romantic feelings between you both.” The sentence almost sounded like a question but he continued before you could dwell on his tone too much. “But…because this is a romance movie… it wouldn’t help give the movie more publicity-“

“In fact, it’ll do the opposite.” The marketing director butted in as he slid over a sheet towards you and Peter. “We looked at what some were saying online, and overall it would be worse for us if we came out with such a statement.”

“People love it when costars on romance movies actually get involved in real life, it gives them more motivation for them to see the movie. It makes the whole thing more authentic to them, meaning they’ll come watch, meaning more sales.” The director spoke again, making you and Peter share a look. They weren’t thinking what you were thinking… right? “So we were thinking…”

Oh god.

“That you and Peter could…pretend to have a relationship.”

—

Part 5<

Not proofread.

Word count:1.4k

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[colourstreakgryffin]

Hey there, fellow writer! How are you doing? :) I just wanted to request a platonic Angel Dust x Nephew (or Niece) reader who is the son/daughter of Molly from when they were alive. Angel hadn’t really got to know them as he had died when they were little, so now that he's reconnected with them in hell, he's trying to bond with his niece/nephew as they are older now

Oh, Hello, fellow writer! I have returned from being dead and this is quite fun! Awww. Another Angel request and of course, it’s hella wholesome. I love it! Can do so! Have a great day, loves!

Angel Dust- Little Spiderling

You know, right away, Angel drags you back to the Hotel when he finds out you’re his niece/nephew by pure accident. You aren’t the little one he remembered once seeing his beloved Molly having but you’re still a minor, not eighteen yet! So, he must protect you! And he will!

Angel has a barely functional life down here and is really struggling through it but the one thing he knows how to do is express his love for people so he does it a lot to you

He tries SO hard to let his walls down to bond with you, to let you know you matter to him and he won’t shut you out. You are really the only person he doesn’t act like a sarcastic prick to but he will not tell you his problems since you’re his family, not his therapist

He really wishes he got to know you when you were both alive, he was so wrapped up in his own life, he didn’t acknowledge you. He barely remembered your name and he is clueless on what you like so he just tries to bond with you by trying to seem like that ‘cool Uncle’

Angel asks for advice all the time. He asks Husk, Charlie, even Vaggie. Advice for how he can try bond with you better and how to talk to you better. He already became your guardian… at his own word, so he needs to know how to connect with you

Angel often gets you gifts, it’s how he sees making you happy with him. Like, he’ll buy something whilst he’s out than he’ll offer it to you when he’s back at the Hotel, smiling so nervously and hoping you’ll like it. He is that one awkward but loving Uncle!

Angel basically dies again, of pure joy, when you express love or appreciation. He already has so much guilt for how little he knows you and how little he paid attention to you back on Earth but now, he wants to try again and he really wants to rekindle so he believes all his effort is always rewarded with the way you smile at him and say ‘thank you’ or ‘I love you’ or ‘I’m glad you want to join’

Angel is also that uncle who goes ‘aww, you’re so pretty. I remember when you were so little! Now, you’re big!’. If he had pictures of you, he’d be admiring them whilst crying

Angel does seem like a selfish man but he’s really only selfish with… everybody else. When it comes to you, he spoils you. He kinds parents you. He doesn’t know how to tell you your mom’s in Heaven so he distracts you with other stuff and he even shows off his beloved Fat Nuggets, to make you smile

Angel has a habit of picking you up, since he is much taller than you, and putting you on his back when it is time to go. He only does this when you escape the Hotel or leave against his wishes, and he can always keep his eyes on you this way

He also puts you on his back if you’re tired or want a nap or even miss him. You weigh nothing to him, and he can handle it well

Angel also loves taking you out to shopping trips with him and Cherri. He loves dressing you up in feminine/masculine clothing and praises you so you feel confident. You look great, and in-fact, he’ll buy that outfit so he can see you in it again and boost you up like a good Uncle does!

Angel actually trusts Cherri with you. He is very protective over you so really, only Charlie and Cherri have the permission to take care of you when he is busy

Sinners often confuse you for Angel’s son/daughter, mainly for the way he treats you, and even Valentino has called you ‘Angel’s kid’ before but he doesn’t take that shit from anybody and sets it straight. You’re his beloved sister’s baby and whilst he loves you, he’d never act as if he is your parent. He is your guardian, get it right

Angel teaches you how to cook the meals of the family. He loves cooking and he’s happy to be a mentor so he’ll ensure you know how to take care of yourself if you’re ever without him and know how to whip up a fine Italian cuisine. Cooking together is one of his personal made bonding methods

As well as baking. Angel knows you like baking so he tries to bake with you. Four arms are very useful and yes, he messes up a lot but the way you laugh at his attempt makes it feel like his eggy crispy frosting mess of a cake was totally worth it. You’re growing to like him more and not be annoyed with the fact he didn’t really care for you much in your past life

I will say now. Angel apologises a lot for the past but you take it maturely and understand his point of view. Though, your acceptance doesn’t remove Angel’s guilt and he takes a long time to feel better about himself, even when you two grow closer and you become more and more fine with him being your guardian

Angel doesn’t understand why he didn’t acknowledge you all those years ago… you’re so cute. What is there to not like?

Angel always sees his twin sister in you. You even look like her, so it means you look… more than a bit like Angel too, and he’s glad. It reminds him that he’ll always have a piece of his beloved sister with him as well as a family member who doesn’t dislike him

Angel’s kinda clingy, straight up. He cries whenever you do something he considers ‘cute’ and mews and calls you ‘Spiderling’ whilst hugging you. Angel is also THAT type of Uncle but it’s pretty cute how attached to you he is

Once more, he does get jealous of Arckaniss. He wants to be your favourite! Not his older brother so he sweeps in and steals you away from when you were talking to Arckaniss too much for his comfort. He is soooooo much better!

Really. Angel, in this entire situation with you, is trying and always trying. He tries to be the best guardian for you, he tries to be the best best friend for you, he tries to be the coolest best uncle for you! He tries and he hopes it works

He is actually fine with you calling him ‘Anthony’ over ‘Angel Dust’ and to make it fair, he calls you your real name over your demon name too!

“Spiderling? Hey! Hey! You’ve been out all day! How come? I thought you liked our shopping trip together! I’m your coolest uncle, aren’t I? You liked that scarf I got you! Should I get another? Yeah? Yeah? What do you think?”

[makochi-furin]

Hii hii! I hope your doing okay today or tonight, I was wondering if you could write something for dazai (idm if it’s scenario, hc or mix of it and if you add another character you really want to write about).

The request basically is; a reader who finally told Dazai about their past abuser, how they got away with no consequences (who reader mentioned seeing sometimes in the city) and later said abuser goes to the agency on behalf their company to investigate missing items.

Stuff like this is really comforting for me so thank you if you do it :D I hope I put in enough detail for you to work with.

DAZAI AND CONSEQUENCES

A/N: baby, I’m so sorry, but this is long asf and I got a lil carried away💀 I’m also sorry it took a bit to get out. I work in a nursery, so I work 12 hours shifts, and this got to me slam in the middle of my first one (out of three in a row). If this isn’t what you wanted, you can send me in another ask :) But I hope you like it

WARNING(s): reader was in a physically abusive relationship in the past, mentions of PTSD, canon-typical violence, mentions of panic attacks, pissed off dazai, reader is a girl

—I'm gonna assume this is like a pt. 2 of this writing, but it can stand alone, too :)

—We all know Dazai is megamind over here. He sees EVERYTHING. Nothing goes unnoticed by him (which you probably find a little annoying, tbh, but oh, well). It's especially annoying when he knows things about you that you don't necessarily want him to know

—HOWEVER, if it's something that you physically and emotionally feel like you cannot talk about, like it brings you distress and discomfort, he's very unlikely to push you about it. Let's be honest, this man's probably never even told you the name of his parents. You don't even know if Dazai Osamu IS his real name, so he knows he hasn't got room to talk

—I feel like if Dazai noticed something about your mannerisms, or the way you act that very obviously speaks to past trauma, he'd ask you about it, like in my previous writing. If you're unable or unwilling to talk about it, he drops it. He SO desperately wants to know, but he cares for you too much to put you in any sort of emotional distress by pushing it

—When you do decide to open up to him, he's all ears. He knows how hard it is to speak about the shadows of your past, and he honestly is just so flattered that you trust him (he can't believe it, lmao. Like, three people in his life truly trust him) enough to tell him about it

—You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Osamu's apartment, absently watching him comb through his wet hair. The two of you had showered together, and you couldn't help but notice over the months of your relationship how much he had changed.

Osamu was flighty at first, and very distrustful. He wasn't a fan of placing himself in vulnerable positions. Not just to you, but to anyone. Yet, when you'd gently brought up his lack of self care, and how it made you sad to see the person you loved think so little of themselves, a change happened.

You helped, of course. At first, you reminded him to brush his teeth when he forgot, and then you began combing his hair. You'd point out when it was time to change his bandages, and call him to bed at an acceptable time because you knew he'd just stay up until the early hours of the morning (if he slept at all). Together, you two had even begun cooking meals, and he'd started to fill out a little bit.

Now, he made sure to do all of those things, even if you didn't remind him/cook with him, because he felt better, yes, but also because he could see how happy it made you.

He was still suffering from chronic depression, of course. You knew you couldn't fix that, and were thinking about gently bringing up a therapist to him, but he had gotten so much better. Even his coworkers noticed it.

Osamu dragged a comb through his brown waves, eyes narrowed as he focused intently on it. It meant so much to you. How could he not focus on it?

You knew it, too. He would've never made these changes for himself, but he had begun to trust that you had his best interest at heart. A few weeks ago, he'd even opened up about some of his own traumas surrounding Mori and the Port Mafia, about his best friend, Oda Sakunosuke.

Osamu trusted you.

That was why it felt so wrong to keep your own past from him, because he was finally starting to open up. You feared if you didn't return the favor, he'd wilt again. More so, you'd recently been catching yourself let parts of the story slip. Subconsciously, you wanted so badly to tell him.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" He asked lightly, brown eyes sparkling with so much affection that it had your breath catching. Osamu was watching you from the mirror.

You blinked, realizing you'd been out of it for a moment, lost in thought. In your lap, you fiddled with your fingers. Part of you wanted to shut down as your heart plummeted at the thought of reliving the worst of it...

But the way he looked at you, like you hung the sun and the stars, like he felt such fondness for you that 'I love you' simply didn't cut it...

It was time to tell him.

"Can... Can we talk?" you asked, surprised by the softness of your voice. It was almost ashamed, but you knew you shouldn't feel shame for what had happened to you.

Only, you were so scared he'd feel ashamed of you.

Osamu was a great aim, and he was smart as a whip, and he was oddly strong for his thin figure. He'd never let himself stay in the sort of situation you did. He'd fight back.

You felt so small.

He turned to look at you, leaning back on the bathroom counter. His eyes were gentle and knowing, and you couldn't tell if you were upset that he already knew what this was about, or relieved. "Of course," he said with a little smile, squatting down in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What about?"

You gulped, knowing there was no turning back now. If you told him this, you'd be trusting him with probably the worst part of your life. Even imagining it, the past with him, made you sick to your stomach.

You knew you'd backtrack if you didn't just rip it off like a bandaid.

"I overreact to things sometimes," you whispered, and he squeezed your hands. "I'm sure you've noticed it."

"I wouldn't use the word 'overreact.'"

You chewed on your lips nervously, staring into his eyes. Thankfully, all you saw there was understanding, but it was still so hard. "My ex beat me. For years... Anytime I did... anything, pretty much. It was bad." Your voice cracked as you continued, tears welling in your eyes. "I couldn't see my family... I ended up in the ER a few times. He broke me, Osamu. He had me convinced I'd never trust another man."

You waited with baited breath for his reaction, trying to hold in the tears. Your eyes stung and your breathing was speeding up into gasps, because you hadn't even told your family or closest friends the full extent of it.

Osamu looked oddly calm, but at the sight of your fallen tears, he got up to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulled you in close, flush against him, and kissed your temple. "Breathe, baby. It's all right now," he whispered, squeezing you close.

You couldn't stop it now, though. What had been building up since you left your ex was being released right here, right now. There was no turning back. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and clouded your eyesight. Subconsciously, you grabbed his shirt in a tight grip and squeezed until your hand ached.

"He beat the shit out of me, and nothing ever happened," you continued, the anguish in your voice now laced by anger. "He broke my collarbone... my jaw—my ribs and my wrist. He made me feel like an ant, like I was so small, and I still feel that way now, and even after I left him... I'm still suffering, but he gets to go about his life like it was nothing. I couldn't even go to the police—he said he'd kill me," you got out through gasps, squeezing your eyes closed as your vision had started to darken at the edges, anyways.

Osamu's eyes flashed with something you didn't recognize, but all he knew to do was pull you in tighter. He placed a hand on your head and pulled you into his chest, and you certainly weren't trying to resist.

"It's not fair," you added, knowing how childish you sounded. Nothing was ever fair. Here you were, saying all this to a man who had probably done much worse than just break people's bones, complaining about fairness.

You weren't a child. You knew life wasn't fair, but that didn't mean it didn't fucking suck that it wasn't.

"Sometimes, I still see him, you know... In town, I—" You had to stop, otherwise you'd make it worse for yourself.

He held you close, rubbing your back and gently scratching your scalp as he whispered for you to breathe. Osamu knew you were about to land neck deep into a panic attack.

Eventually, he did get you calmed down. He got you to bed, made you a mug of hot chocolate, and read to you for about thirty minutes before you were able to catch your breath, his smooth voice calming you better than any benzo could.

In the end, you two lied down together, your back pressed to his front. The bandaged arm that was wrapped around your waist felt like a safety blanket. You were sure you'd be embarrassed about your outburst tomorrow, but for right now, you simply soaked up the feeling of him wrapped around you so snugly.

"You're not small," he whispered to you, and that was the last thing you remembered before passing out.

—Dazai doesn't seem different to you afterwards, in that he doesn't act differently towards you. You were worried at first that he'd see you differently, that he'd see you as being as weak as you saw yourself, but it was the furthest thing from. He respects the hell out of people who can go through such terrible things, and yet come out so kind, so good

—While he doesn't seem different, inwardly you can bet he's raging. Dazai is PISSED OFF, more than he's been in years. He's made great progress, but let's not forget that Dazai can be a cruel mf. He's got a darkness in him that he doesn't want you to see, but it is definitely there

—He doesn't press you for anymore details, but he can't help himself. He digs. He uses his brilliance to find out who the guy is, who his name is, and any time he feels even a slight bit of guilt at digging into your past life without your knowledge, he reminds himself of the injuries you listed.

—You thought he'd forget the things you admitted during your confession? PLEASE. He needs to know everything about this fucking piece of work. If he has a photo, he might even text it to Chuuya, along with a message "wanted alive," and you best bet Chuuya takes it seriously (even if he hates Dazai, lmao) because just by LOOKING at the photo of this guy, everyone can tell he's an asshole. And you still see this mf sometimes? Man is RAGING

—Dazai stands on business, because seeing you so torn up about it physically hurts him. It makes his heart ache every time he remembers you in that state. He can't fucking stand it, and he has to do something about it

—Your words about it being unfair haunt him in his nightmares. You're right to a degree: the world isn't fair. However, Dazai knows that if it takes him a million years, he's gonna make this shit fair

—Then, what do you know, one day he's at the office and Atsushi comes strolling in with a Manila folder and the piece of shit, himself. There he is, practically served to Dazai on a silver platter

—"This is Tanaka Jiro," Atsushi chirped, missing the way Dazai's eyes widened when he saw the new client. "He's here on behalf of the engineering company that got broken into last night."

Dazai sat up in his chair, staring right at the man who had the gall to make you feel small and weak. His eyes darkened, and then he slowly smiled. It wasn't happy or gentle, or even playful and teasing.

He smiled like Mori smiled.

In that moment, if his coat was black instead of tan, he'd look the picture of his younger, crueler self. He supposed that part of him never went away, always there just at the edge of his subconscious.

He promised Odasaku that he'd push it away, that he'd do good. However, he felt that even Odasaku, his kind friend, would understand the necessity of it now.

Immediately, he jumped out of his chair and made his way over. His hand landed on Atsushi's hair, giving it a playful ruffle. As he looked at him, his eyes softened. "Maa, Atsushi-kun. You work too hard, you know. I'll take this case for you."

Atsushi stared at him with obvious shock, eyes wide and jaw on the floor, because Dazai never, ever volunteered to work. If anything, he complained about it like a child.

"D-Dazai-san?" he breathed, in disbelief. It looked like he thought someone had killed the real Dazai, and was now acting in his place.

"Ah, ah," Dazai chirped, shoving Atsushi away. "Go do normal teenager things. Flirt, make friends," his voice trailed off as his gaze slid to Tanaka, your ex, and the smirk lifted his lips once more, eyes flashing dangerously, "all of that."

"O-Okay," Atsushi mumbled, still in shock. He recovered quickly, smiling brightly at Tanaka. "Dazai-san is a very good detective, Tanaka-san. You're in good hands!" he promised.

Tanaka smiled back, and seeing the bastard have the audacity to smile had Dazai seething internally.

Maybe, he'd take all his teeth, so that he could never smile again.

"Thank you for your help, Nakajima-kun," Tanaka said, nodding.

As Atsushi walked off, Dazai tilted his head to the side, his plan already formed. "Follow me to answer some questions, and then I'll begin investigating right away."

—For Dazai's plan to pay off, he needs to figure out who broke into the company. It wasn't a planned event, and he quickly figured out the guy who did it probably had no connection to the company (probably just a low down thief looking for some quick cash), which made it more difficult. It was the sort of not-really-a-big-deal crime that the agency would usually put on the back burner (the only reason it even came to them was because the thief was figured to be gifted), but Dazai worked tirelessly at it

—He interviewed people, looked over documents from dusk to dawn, and just generally put in a hell of a lot more effort for this than he usually would for some petty theft

—You probably even notice how hard he's working. There are bags under his eyes and he's back to not taking very good care of himself, but when you ask about it (obviously worried), he just smiles gently, kisses you, and assures you that he'll have this case figured out in no time. He doesn't want you anywhere near this

—When he does find the criminal, their interaction goes something like this:

"I know you did it. Give me the shit you stole, and I'll let you off."

"Bet."

—He has this part meticulously planned out. While your ex is in work one day, Dazai plants the stolen items in his car, and then calls the company security

—He watches with glee as he's dragged from the building, kicking and screaming like an enraged toddler, and fired on the spot. Your ex's livelihood? Gone. Phase one? Completed

—Dazai sat at his desk with a satisfied smile, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he counted down in his head. Everyone else is entrenched in their own workloads, barely even noticing the malicious sparkle in Dazai's eyes.

Soon enough, the door bursted open, and your ex came running in. His eyes were rimmed red, like he'd been crying, and he was flushed all over from rage. "What the fuck did you do?!" he demanded, pointing at Dazai.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, standing and walking over with the same smile.

Everyone else stopped what they were doing, watching the scene with widened, or curious eyes. This sort of thing didn't happen much at the ADA.

"You know what the fuck I mean, you piece of shit!" Tanaka screamed in his face, and it only made Dazai's smile widen. When he saw this, he hissed, "I think we should take this outside."

"Hold on," demanded Atsushi, immediately standing from his desk, along with Kyouka and Kenji.

Dazai didn't even look at them, staring into Tanaka's eyes, as he held up his hand to stop them in their tracks. The smile melted off his face, replaced by a cold glare and lips pressed into a line. "I'm fine," he assured them, light tone not at all matching his expression.

"But—Dazai-san," Atsushi mumbled, eyes flickering between Dazai and Tanaka.

"You guys are so dramatic," Ranpo said with a roll of his eyes, absently watching the scene from his desk, which his feet were propped up on. "Dazai-kun said it's fine."

Dazai tilted his head mockingly at Tanaka. "Are we going outside?"

That, they did. Tanaka stomped down the stairs and through the cafe, out onto the crowded streets of Yokohama.

Dazai followed, of course, even as Tanaka led him towards a darkened alleyway, obstructed from the view of the general public. Inwardly, he thought that this guy was making it way too easy. He was an idiot.

Tanaka stared at the dead end wall for a minute, and then let out a cry of rage, turned on his heel, and began running at Dazai with his arm pulled back and his hand clenched into a fist.

Nonplussed, Dazai side stepped it, loving every minute of the surprise on Tanaka's face. "What? Did you think fighting someone your own size would be as easy as beating on a girl?"

That had Tanaka freezing immediately. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he growled out, and Dazai almost laughed at his attempt to be menacing and scary.

Right on time, a black SUV pulled up. He might not be in the mafia anymore, but Dazai had plenty of contacts from it. When masked men jumped out of the vehicle, surrounding Tanaka, Dazai smirked at the look of pure terror on his face.

"Don't play dumb. You aren't handsome enough to pull it off," he said lightly, and then laughed as Tanaka tried to call for help.

He was knocked out before he could.

When he awoke, eyes all bleary and with a searing headache, he was in a big, dark warehouse. It was old and beaten, with leaking pipes and creaky doors. He was sitting in a chair, hands cuffed together behind him.

Tanaka screamed.

Dazai walked in front of him casually, hands tucked into his pockets. "Scream all you like. No one will hear you," he said.

"Why are you doing this?! Who even are you, man?!" Tanaka cried, the tears falling down his cheeks. He looked so pathetic.

Dazai loved every second of it.

He hummed, walking forward until he was right in front of the bastard, footsteps echoing around the wide open space. Grabbing a fist full of Tanaka's hair, Dazai yanked his head back, so he'd be looking up at him, so he could see the icy glare, the hate.

"You hurt someone I'm very fond," Dazai said softly, tilting his head. "You hurt someone I love... And ever since she told me, I've been thinking of ways to make it fair for her. It's all I've thought about.

"She's not like you and me, you know. She's kind. She's sweet. She's good. You," Dazai scoffed, "you're pathetic. A man who has to beat defenseless women to feel good about himself is no man." When he leaned in close, so his lips were inching his ear, Tanaka whimpered. "And me? I'm the worst of the worst."

Now, all Tanaka could do was cry and plead, but Dazai wasn't having any of it. He let go of Tanaka's hair, letting his head fall limply, enjoying the sounds of his uttered prayer. "No god can save you from me," he told him in a pleasant voice, taking a few steps back.

Dazai crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully, making a show of it. "I thought I could just kill you, but that's not really fair, is it? She has to live with what you did to her, and I think the fairest thing would be if you have to live with what I do to you."

"You're fucking psychotic," Tanaka whispered.

"Ah," Dazai agreed easily. "I've always been more of a proponent of revenge, rather than justice. See, she probably just wishes you'd have gone to jail." His casual tone melted into something deeper and smoother, deadlier. "Whereas I'm more of an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy, so..." He pursed his lips in faux thought, looking up at the ceiling. "What was it she said?"

Tanaka stared at him in horror, especially when Dazai stared him straight in the eye and smiled.

"Right. Broken jaw, collarbone, ribs, and wrist!" He said, snapping as if he'd just remembered it, as if your broken confession hadn't been causing him physical pain this whole time. "I have plenty of history with breaking jaws, so I guess we'll start there. What do you say?" he asked brightly.

Tanaka screamed again, the sound becoming a cry of raw terror as Dazai began walking towards him.

An hour later, Tanaka still sat in his chair, still handcuffed, but he was bloody and bruised. Every injury he inflicted on you, Dazai returned tenfold. He was delirious with pain, and in and out of consciousness.

Dazai grunted when he looked down at his hands, seeing the blood that absolutely coated his knuckles and bandages. He'd have to clean that up before coming home to you.

"You up?" he asked, walking closer.

When Tanaka immediately flinched back, Dazai hummed with satisfaction.

"I won't kill you," he said, as if he was doing Tanaka some great favor. "You're going to go about your pathetic, little life with no job, and every time you look at yourself, you'll remember this pain. You'll finally feel at least a fraction of what she did."

Tanaka just whimpered. It was hard to speak with a shattered jaw.

Dazai smiled at the sound, crouching down in front of him to force Tanaka to look him in the face, in the eyes. "The men who kidnapped you are going to drop you off at a hospital. They'll ask what happened, and you'll be tempted to tell them. So," his tone lowered into a hiss, breaking the somewhat casual facade now that Tanaka had physically felt his anger. There was no point hiding it now. "I'll tell you the same thing you told her at her lowest point, that defenseless girl who didn't stand a chance against a piece of shit like you: tell the cops, and I'll kill you."

Dazai stood, jaw clenched. "And I'll be watching you from now. Step a toe out of line, hurt anyone else, and I'll bring you right back here. Only, that time, I'll probably just go ahead and do the whole world a favor, and shoot you in the head.

"I bet no one would miss you at all, because that's how small you are."

With that, he walked away.

—I know that was pretty brutal, but to be honest, y'all, Dazai was a whole ass executive in the PM (the 'demon prodigy'). He tries to hold it back in the ADA (per his promise to Oda and his care for the others), but let's not kid ourselves. The guy does have the capacity to do some really evil shit, and I think if he'd do it for anyone, it'd be you

—It just pisses him off so much to feel helpless, especially when it comes to you. He couldn't save you, then, but he can damn well set the record straight. In his head, he had to do something. At the very least, he had to stop this guy from doing it again

—You were eating dinner with him that night, and hadn't really noticed anything out of the ordinary. Both of you were just sitting at the counter, digging into some instant ramen, and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you didn't pay such close attention to him.

There was a speck of blood on the collar of his coat.

"Hey, what happened?" you asked, concern pinching together your brows. Worried eyes scanned him over, looking for any sign of injury. You found none, though.

"It's not mine," Osamu answered, and then took a bite of his food, looking pointedly away from you.

You pursed your lips, tapping his wrist. "We don't lie to each other, O-sa-mu."

He couldn't help but smile a little at your tone. His eyes finally met your's, and he tapped your wrist back. "It's not a lie. It's-not-mine."

"It's a lie by omission if you don't tell me what happened."

You were terribly confused when his eyes softened, and then he gently pressed his hand to the back of your head, bringing you closer until your foreheads were touching. "What's wrong?" you mumbled.

"I can't tell you everything," he admitted slowly, eyes shut. He looked so peaceful, like he was where he was meant to me. Honestly, when Osamu was all soft like this, it took your breath away.

"Then tell me part of it," you breathed, reaching up to cup your hand around his neck. "Did something happen?"

He stayed quiet for a long time, though you didn't know how long. It was like he was contemplating something serious, and that both confused and worried you.

When he finally did speak, it felt like time froze. Everything froze.

"I made it fair. He won't ever hurt anyone else again. I made sure of it."

The words were a whispered promise, and you automatically knew what he was talking about, of course. He was mysterious, and he had been distrustful at first, and you knew he had once been in the mafia, but he was also the person you trusted the most in the world.

Osamu always went above and beyond for you, and you didn't feel as safe anywhere as you did with him.

You believed him wholeheartedly, and found that this admission was enough. You didn't need to know the details, and probably wouldn't want to.

The relief you felt was enough.

"Thank you, Osamu."

—Look, he's so bby girl with you, but he don't play when it comes to your abusive ex💀

—Just... just honestly don't fuck with the people this guy loves, okay? He's gd diabolical, and he can be so cruel to those that hurt who he cares about, so... Just watch it if you're tryna show out to his girl, okay, lmao

[aplaceinme]

Because it's always missing Tommy Hours…:

The 118 is having a Q-Day. It has been a while since they had one, so Bobby has decided to take it as a chance to deal with all the little things that are usually overlooked. 

While he closes himself in his office to deal with the much-dreaded paperwork, he has the crew do inventory, clean their storage, ensure all the supplies are up to code, and do all the rest of the chores. 

—

As they clean and polish the engine, everyone’s mind is somewhere else. 

Hen is thinking about the meeting that they have next with the lawyer. Each day, it feels as if they are getting closer to getting Mara back. 

Chimney is imagining going on a second honeymoon with Maddie after Hen and Karen get Mara back. 

Eddie is ruminating about what his therapist told him last session. He has been working hard on, well, working on himself and his issues. He needs to show Chris that he is dealing with things, and trying to get better.

All of their thoughts get interrupted once they hear Buck start singing absent-mindedly to what is apparently the song playing on his earpods. 

“Ain't no sunshine when he's gone

Only darkness every day

Ain't no sunshine when he's gone

And this house just ain't no home

Anytime he goes away…”

They all look at each other in exasperation but fondness as well.

Eddie rolls his eyes and goes back to his rumination. Hen notices that Buck changed the pronoun of the song and shakes her head with a smile. Chimney sighs, thinking about texting Tommy later to ask him when he’s coming back to visit his Army friend. 

—

Buck gets the short end of the stick, and he is the one chosen to clean up the bathrooms.

Grumpily and complaining all the way, he enters the bathroom, leaving the rest to do other tasks. 

It doesn’t take long for Hen and Chimney, who are doing an inventory of the ambulance, and Eddie, who is moping the floor, to hear Buck begin to sing a song. A different one this time. 

“Don't waste your time on me, you're already

The voice inside my head… I miss you, I miss you

Don't waste your time on me, you're already

The voice inside my head… I miss you, I miss you”

The three of them share another look and decide to ignore it. 

Buck’s got it bad, and they are happy for him. 

—

A couple of hours later, they are all upstairs in the loft. Bobby and Buck are cooking while the rest set the table. 

Adding some spices to the sauce, Bobby notices Buck, who is chopping some vegetables, muttering to himself. He focuses on hearing better, trying to decipher what he is saying. 

His effort is not needed, since just at that moment Buck gets louder. 

“Now as I lie in pieces, await for your return

The sun upon my forehead, it burns baby, burns baby burns…” 

Confused, Bobby turns to look at the others, who don’t seem surprised or even curious by Buck randomly singing a song. 

“'Cause all I need is you

I just need you…”

And suddenly Bobby understands what this is about. 

Buck had arrived at work on Monday morning, sulking and looking like a sad puppy. His fatherly instinct had immediately started tingling, and Bobby had taken Buck to his office to ask him what was wrong and to see how he could help. That’s when Bobby found out that one of Tommy’s army friend had invited him to his place in Austin, so Tommy was going to be away for some days. 

Bobby looks at the others again, wanting to confirm if the singing is because Buck is missing Tommy, and he gets that confirmation from the rest of them. 

Sighing, Bobby shakes his head, smiling fondly at Buck. He is happy that he has finally found the right person for him, the person who loves him and makes him happy. Bobby couldn’t ask for anyone better. 

—

Sometime after they finished lunch, they are now all hanging out upstairs, waiting for a call. 

To pass the time, Bobby, Hen, Chimney, and Eddie are playing a card game on the table. Buck couldn’t be bothered to play, so he is half lying on the sofa, his head resting on the arm of it and his legs fully extended. 

Buck keeps checking and re-checking his phone to see if Tommy has sent him a message. The last message he got was half an hour ago, so Buck is restraining himself from sending Tommy one, not wanting to be a bother. 

Thinking the hell with it, he shrugs his shoulders and types a simple message, “I miss you.” 

Buck sighs and lets his arm fall to the side, his hand clutching his phone. 

He hears the others talking and teasing each other, and he can’t help but wish that Tommy were here. He knows it doesn’t make sense since Tommy unfortunately doesn’t work with them but still. If it were up to Buck, Tommy would be with him all the time. 

Feeling blue, he starts to softly sing one of the songs in his specially curated playlist that he created after he found out about Tommy going away.

“You have only been gone ten days

But already I'm wasting away…

I know I'll see you again, whether far or soon

But I need you to know

That I care and I miss you”

Buck sighs again and immediately hears a huff from the table.

“Seriously Buck? Don’t you think you’re being a little too…” Hen starts saying.

“Annoying,” Chimney chimes in.

“Dramatic,” Hen finishes, narrowing her eyes at Chimney, who just laughs. 

Sitting down and turning to face them completely, Buck says, “I don’t think I’m being dramatic. I just really…”

“Miss him,” they all say in unison. 

“Yes, we got that, buddy,” Eddie adds.

Buck pouts and crosses his arms in annoyance. 

“How long has it been now?” Bobby asks sympathetically. “It shouldn’t be long until he comes back, right?”

“It’s been 10 days… he should be back next Thursday, but he told me that he has been invited to stay another week more. He hasn’t decided yet,” Buck says, voice getting sadder with each word. 

“It hasn’t been that long then,” Chimney replies. “If you think how much time you spend without him in your life, 10 days or more, is nothing.”

“That’s different,” Buck complains. “Besides, none of you get to say anything since all your significant others aren’t miles and miles away.”

Eddie opens his mouth, but Buck doesn’t let him say anything. 

“No, Chris doesn’t count. I said significant other, you’re single.”

Eddie looks offended but ends up conceding the point. 

“Ok, fine. You might be right about that, but I still think you’re being dramatic. The less you think about it, the faster the time will pass and then it will be time for you to see him again,” Hen offers. 

Before Buck can reply, his phone vibrates. In his haste to see the message, he almost drops the phone and he can hear the rest laughing at him. 

Buck ignores them and opens the message eagerly. 

“I miss you too. So much. I wish you were here, baby. Can’t wait to see you and have you in my arms again. I’ll be back soon, I promise. In the meantime, know that I’m thinking about you all the time.”

Feeling butterflies in his stomach, Buck gets all giddy reading the message. With a huge and loving smile painted on his face, he can’t help but think how in love he is with Tommy. 

Buck is so busy re-reading the message that he misses the fond smiles sent his way by the rest. 

The sound of the alarm startles them all, and they all leave their cards on the table and run to the engine. Buck sends quickly a heart emoji and runs after the rest. 

As Buck sits in the engine, he thinks about how many days there are until he sees Tommy again. He can’t wait. 

​​

Songs used in order:

Ain’t No Sunshine — Bill Withers

I Miss You — blink-182

The Humpty Dumpty Love Song — Travis

I Miss You — Incubus

[endlessxdreams]

The little hints that are easily missed part 2:

1. When Charles said to Declan (I’m paraphrasing because I don’t remember exactly the lines) that he and Rupert are the same, stubborn, workaholics and want their way always winning I feel like it was a for shadowing for the dynamic between Declan & Rupert’s relationship with each other. They are the same person that in another universe they might be the other way around (Rupert married with kids and Declan a playboy). Regarding that, I feel that it was intensionally assigned as a scene to showcase that Declan’s hate was influenced by Tony but also reasonated the reason why Taggie is entangled with Rupert. Electra’ s syndrome where women fall for men that have the same personality as their father. She sees a lot of her father (which she admires) in Rupert. It may be far fetched but hear me out. Maud is a really bad mother to her children, especially Tags, which she is jealous because of her youth and beauty and she calls her retarted and stupid. Declan on the other hand, has a drinking problem, is a workaholic who rarely goes to his house, has anger issues and has been in a weird relationship with his wife (he enjoys other men watching Maud, lusting after her, being desired and sleeping with them) but as a father he loves Taggie (I think she is his favourite because in their house she’s the only person that is not problematic and tries her best to care for them).

2. Declan immediately saw the way way Rupert was watching Taggie at the pub and said “Stay away from Taggie, you’re old enough to be her father”. So if Taggie is 20 years old (in the books she’s 18) that makes Rupert 40 (in the books he’s 38). The dirt he gathered for Rupert and his secret weapon he will use it when he finds out about AngelBlack (I love the ship name, kudos ❤️❤️ to the person that suggested it).

3. The way he calls her “Angel” is his way of seeing the celestial light, she is an innocent creature, full of love, care and compassion for animals, people, her family. She’s an introvert who loves her own space, likes to provide comfort and love to others but also she didn’t choose this role. She’s not the typical 20 year girl. She’s like a mother figure, she takes care of the household, she cooks, she tries to help other people, her father, her sister while at the same time she tries her best to make her life better, to overcome her own difficulties (dyslexia)- As someone who has dyslexia I can assure you that is difficult, I’m lucky in a sense because while it was 20 years ago (I was in first grade) and it was when my teacher noticed and informed my parents, they didn’t dismissed her and they took me to speech and occupational therapists and is not bad (I read-write-think perfectly without a grammar mistake and when I tell people that I have dyslexia they don’t believe me because I’m the devils advocate and they tell me I should be a lawyer because I’m always 5 steps ahead. But I have a terrible ADHD brain disorder and I can’t remember stuff I read a day before and I can’t concentrate to read and understand what I’m reading/I have also a bad anxiety disorder so while I read I can’t get my mind to remember shit and get anxious and start crying and feel like I’m an idiot because I read the same paragraph 15 times to comprehend what I’m reading and wherever how hard you study and you try you always fail miserably). Mind you that this was 20 years ago in Greece which is not a place that people have empathy or tolerance toward someone else being different than them (even some teachers back then didn’t want me in their class or they didn’t want to help me study because they though I was slow and dummy and some of my classmates were the same). Therefore, I love the representation of people with learning disabilities and how difficult is for them to navigate life. And in the 80’s when so little things were known back then. Thus, Taggie is a fallen angel, she pays for other people’s sins, she is a pure sensitive soul, who from a young age she is always puts other people’s needs first, she keeps her distance, doesn’t try to make herself visible to others, doesn’t take space, attention, affection and love (only her siblings love her continuously as we saw at the hug scene of the NYE episode but I feel like the love her like a mother figure and not as a sister). Rupert’s sees all of that, her sacrifices, her fierce nature to others and her willingness and is drawn to her like a dog needs water, he is the devil and she will redeem him from himself. Someone on Tik Tok mentioned that the bedroom scene from the NYE episode was directed to Rupert’s emotional state. He is in a cold place, he doesn’t care about anyone or tries to give this impressions, he doesn’t see his children because his ex wife didn’t want him anywhere near them, he finds comfort between women’s legs but is temporary and he is a shell of himself and his glory days. And as he puts Taggie to sleep and they look at each others eyes, the celestial light shines bright making Rupert feel warmth inside of him, like all his sins will be consumed.

4. From all the people in NYE episode he was the only one that went into the kitchen and told her to relax and have fun, no one other cared to bother to remember that she existed (expect Patrick and Caitlin). He took care of everything that needing to be taken care of, he protected Charle’s photo of panic attacks getting on paper, he payed the DJ’s, cleaned up and went home. Acts of service. He saw Taggie in an fragile emotional state, feeling unlovable, unworthy, unable to cope with all of this pain and wanted to help her. He talked to Freddie and wanted all three of them to make the franchise in order for Taggie to not leave and because she was devastated by her father losing his job, credibility and leave the town she liked for once in her life. Rupert saw all of this. She had the world on her shoulders at such a young age and wanted to make her happy.

5. The line “What if no one ever loves me?” is a parallel to Rupert’s own thoughts. He confessed to never have been in love in Declan’s show.

6. The way that he was jealous of Ralphie and said that she can do so much better than him and watched intensely and wanted to throw hands for hurting her in the worst way, of Seb who took her to the movies meanwhile he was fucking Cameron.

7. He cared about her opinion of him. He doesn’t give a fuck or pretends to to other people’s opinions but with Taggie he’s eager to learn what she feels of him and he starts slowly to unmask himself from his persona. He gave her an egg jewel and not something mainstream which he would get for other women (for example the bracelet). He was pleasantly surprised by the fact that she accepted his apology but not his gift, because he is so used to pay his way into women’s hearts-pants and Taggie returns it. Also I believe that the egg jewel was a personal gift in which he choose himself whereas all the others were picked by the Jewerly stuff or his assistants.

8. He wants her empowered and to speak her mind. In the episode of the killing of the birds which she did the catering, he pursue her to admit that she will not do another catering job for hunting/killing innocent animals.

9. Rupert’s worry of Taggie’s accident and the way they hugged each other, especially him, the realisation that shr could have been dead. He immediately drove the car and Taggie home because she was so upset that she couldn’t drive and when he heard the tape of the directions, he offered both of them to go to the tours around city promoting Venturer.

10. The way that I HATED HIS GUTS/ LOATHED HIM in the first episodes and couldn’t fathom the fact that they’re a ship and slowly we saw him change, yearning and longing for a glimpse of her, like he see his true self come to the surface and be vulnerable when he sees her . As Bas said “crushing like a school girl”. A 40 year old playboy with a lot of issues that wants his partners daughter which he promised that “she’s out of bounds” and everything is complicated, he could loose everything, his money, his house, his position as a minister, Declan, Freddie, Taggie and his entirety of his life. Talk about complicated and difficult.

[thevillainswhore]

Tension

Pairing: Massage Therapist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You’re devastated when your usual massage therapist becomes unavailable at the last minute, but an unexpected trainee is more than happy to handle you.

Warnings: Smut (fing-ering fem receiving, mentions of a-nal play, m-asturbation male receiving)

A/N: Unbeta’d, dividers by saradika and firefly-graphics - also a massive thank you to my babe @rookthorne for helping me edit my header, loves you bitch 💗

Listen, just please use your imaginations with the oil, let’s pretend it’s safe and can be used for… things 👀 okay thank you, enjoy x

Resting your head against the back of the waiting room leather chair, you await your appointment at your regular spa. Headache already starting to disappear from the eucalyptus aroma of incense seaping into your skin.

You needed this. The long work week draining you of all common sense to not hit your coworkers over their heads every two seconds, due to their incompetence. Now, it has finally come to a close, and you could take the opportunity to indulge in your guilty pleasure.

This was the only way you could continue to keep your head above water. A monthly treat to yourself of a two hour long full body massage - undisturbed peace and soft hands kneading the stress out of your body until it felt like you were floating.

And it was literally heaven on earth to let go of the strong willed nature that came with your work, placing your care into the hands of someone else. Giving up your responsibilities of taking charge and allowing another to take care of you for a little while.

It felt so good to let go. Forgetting all of your worries that seemed silly in the midst of the background waterfall noises that lulled you into calmness.

Jesus, you weren’t even on the massage table yet and you already felt so much lighter.

With that thought, the lovely receptionist, you’ve become familiar with from your numerous visits, walks out from the back room and addresses you with an apologetic expression.

“Miss, I’m so terribly sorry about this, but an unexpected personal emergency has come up for your regular therapist and she’s had to leave before your treatment today.”

Your face drops. The excited anticipation bubbling inside you from at last being able to relax, dying out instantly at her words.

Of course it wasn’t your therapist’s fault that you would miss out on the only pass time that gets you through the month. Of course, it wasn’t her fault you’d probably go home and scream into your pillow. Yet, you couldn’t help your internal frustration at the disappointing outcome.

It didn’t help that you hadn't had an orgasm for god knows how long too. The band inside was you on the verge of snapping. A massage being the only way to soothe the built up tension over the month and you feared you would have a mental breakdown from the added stress.

“Listen, I wouldn’t normally suggest this,” she goes on to explain as you lift your head with intrigue, “but we have a new massage therapist in training, free for your time slot. His clientele base is still quite small. However, he’s received great reviews and he’s happy to cover your treatment today - if that’s something you would consider. Would you like to meet him before coming to a decision?”

Fuck it. It’s either this or try to relieve yourself with your shitty vibrator at home that’ll probably die out before you can finish anyway. And you really didn’t want to make the dent in your bedroom wall any bigger from the other times you’d thrown the useless thing at it.

So, what harm could it do?

After agreeing to an introduction with the trainee, telling yourself you should at least see if you feel comfortable enough with him, you stand outside the private massage room, waiting to be invited in.

Eventually hearing a breathy shout of “Come in!”, the receptionist opens the door and allows you to step through, the seemingly young man’s back turned towards you as he fiddles with last minute preparations for your massage.

“Just tryna get everythin’ ready for ya, won’ be a minute.”

After finishing up and a final appraisal to the set up, the trainee spins on his fit, claps his hands together and looks at you directly, “Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’! The name's James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky, sweetheart, I’ll be lookin’ after’ya today.”

Holy shit, where the hell did they find this one?

Bucky’s mid length chocolate hair ran rogue with an errand piece falling into his eyes. It took all of your strength to not reach out and tuck it behind his ear, or maybe even scratch your nails through his hair just to grip it and tug to see if he whimpers.

Woah, settle down girl.

A tight white womens beater, stretched across his pecs, showcased his bulging arms and the pure muscle you couldn’t tear your eyes from. You were pretty sure you were drooling, but you couldn’t give a single fuck right now.

If you had to guess, you would have pinned him as a farmhand or a ranch owner from down south before he became a trainee massage therapist - it definitely would have explained his devilishly built form and his southern twang that has your knees weak.

That’s not the only reason I want my legs to be shaking.

It most definitely isn’t difficult to imagine Bucky with a cowboy hat sitting on his head, thick thighs clenching to keep himself steady riding a horse. Or how easy it is to picture him throwing stacks of hay over his shoulders, dirt covering his sweat glistened body as his pure strength gives him no trouble carrying them to the stables.

You don't even realise you still haven’t spoken a word, stood dumbstruck with your mouth gaping open and lost in your unholy thoughts about the living wet dream about to rub you up, completely forgetting another person was in the room with you.

The receptionist speaks up, “Are you comfortable with James stepping in-“

“Yes!”. Your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment from how quickly you answered, clearing your throat and steeling yourself not to continue making an idiot of yourself. “Um- yes of course, yes… not a problem at all.”

You miss Bucky’s sly little smirk as you make the effort to keep your gaze towards the floor, his tongue peaking out and wetting his lips as he gives you a once over.

Things were about to get interesting.

“So sweetheart, I’m gonna step out while you get changed, take all clothin’ off, start off with lyin’ on’ya stomach for me and cover y’lower half with a towel - I’m sure y’know the drill by now.”

Reverting your attention back onto him, your pulse quickens at his nonchalant conversing of stripping naked. Okay, it was standard procedure for the therapist to go over protocol, but that talk from him is sinfully criminal.

Walking up to the door, Bucky suddenly turns around, “Oh and don’t forget to take off the underwear too, darlin’, be back in a tick.” Bucky winks and slaps the doorframe, finally leaving the room.

Fuck my life.

You have a couple of minutes to compose yourself before Bucky comes back. Changing out of your clothes was almost a relief - sweat clinging to your skin from meeting him and that freaking accent that drove your mind wild. Your panties seemed to agree too, considering the sticky mess that clung to your folds as you pulled them down your legs.

As you now lay face down on the table, folded towel covering your ass - back and legs on display - you anxiously wait for Bucky’s arrival, muscles subtly twitching from either your stress or the need to get fucked.

Probably both.

The door opens to your only knowledge of hearing, sight only focused on the floor from the carved head cushion allowing your face to sit through it. Goosebumps raise on your arms as you listen to the door then quietly close and footsteps get closer towards your direction.

You hold your breath when you see boots stop into your peripheral and legs bend to show a pair of thick thighs straining against the denim of his jeans.

Yep, definitely Bucky.

Lifting your head slightly to look at his face when he doesn’t speak, you choke on your spit when you find him shirtless, stomach marveled with so many abs. You would count, but you’re a little afraid you’ve lost brain cells from his presence alone. And all hope is gone when you see his jeans strung low on his waist - ‘v’ line tantalising your dignity as you wonder how morally wrong it could be to drop to your knees and lick it.

You’re not proud to say you don’t take anything he says in as Bucky begins going through what’s to be expected for your treatment. Ever the professional as you think he probably tells you what to do should you like any adjustments made with his pressure or technique. Luckily, you seem to have gotten away with it as he stands and picks up some oil, tilting your head back down to do some breathing exercises.

“Jus’ the massage today then, sweets? Y’know I wouldn’t mind throwin’ a free facial in there for y’too with the trouble y’had.”

What the fuck?

Your brain short circuits. Surely he must hear what he’s saying out loud… right?

Inwardly shaking your head, you put it down to the lack of intimacy you had gotten recently, mind conjuring illicit fantasies and turning everything he says into something dirty.

You stutter to reply, “N-no, that’s o-okay, just the massage i-is fine.”

The small smile on Bucky’s face is so innocent, like he hasn’t just rebooted your entire being. “Alrightie then darlin’, lemme get started then.”

Guess them breathing exercises went to shit.

Bucky begins slicking his hands up with the massage oil, lathering between his fingers and ensuring all crevices are glistening - especially his veins that bulge all the way up his forearm.

“I’m warnin’ y’though, I’m quite good with my hands.”

You don’t have time to stop yourself blurting the next automatic thought in your head out into the open.

“I bet you are.”

If you could slap yourself you would. Cringing in despair at your ability to make yourself look stupid. You expect things to turn awkward, for Bucky to show unease and even stop the session altogether.

To your surprise, you feel a whisper of a breath caress your neck as he mumbles the very thing to probably cause your death.

“Oh, you have no idea, darlin’.”

The start of the massage truly had your nerves settling down and calming you enough to actually enjoy yourself. Yeah, you still struggled with keeping your cool with Bucky’s huge hands caressing you with his sensual touch, but you managed to stop your squirming and relax.

Bucky however, couldn’t keep a straight head for the life of him. Softness of your skin and the feel of your curves literally in the palms of his hands had his cock threatening to bust the zipper of his jeans.

Timid little thing you were, so skittish when you saw him and he just had to have a little fun with you. That soon backfired on him the second he got a hold of you. Fingers itching to just smooth down your luscious body and open you up like his own personal present.

Unfortunately, he had to make do with rubbing his erection against the edge of the massage table to give him some relief. You were just so sexy - a stunning face and an amazing figure - never mind how fucking adorably shy you were.

Just my type and I’ll be damned if I don’t get a piece’a ya, sweetheart.

Was it wrong for him to be thinking of a client this way? Of course. Would Bucky most definitely get fired before he’s even completed his training should anyone find out? No doubt about it. Was that going to change his mind over what he was about to do next?

Absolutely fucking not.

You had succeeded in keeping your moans and whimpers locked away when Bucky reached particularly sensitive spots on your back. No, not the ones that felt a little too tender, the places his touch elicited your growing desire - as much as you tried to hide it, he could still hear your little intakes of breaths.

But that’s not what I’m after sweetie, I wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.

So, he comes up with a plan.

“Oh darlin’, I can feel all those knots in y’upper back, been workin’ so hard ain’t ya, sweets?”

Fuck, you really had. And Bucky’s praise paired with his seductive voice makes you feel all gooey with neediness, trying to stop yourself sinking into your fuzzy headspace as you reply back. “Y-yeah, I mean I guess so.”

“How ‘bout we try somethin’ different, hm?” Bucky begins to explain, “Reckon if we got y’to bend them legs into a kneelin’ position then it’d feel so much better.”

The sincerity of his voice has you rethinking your suspicions towards how exposed you might be. You still had the towel to cover anything private and while your old therapist never suggested anything like this, Bucky may have learned something new and wanted to try it out.

So you begin to do as he’s asked. “Um, l-like this?”

“Tha’s it, arch that back for me, sweetie.” Again, you follow his instructions all too easily. “Little more for me- there ya go, jus’ like that.”

Bucky can’t help the groan that slips out as he observes the thin towel curve over the shape of your ass. You’re not much higher from the first position you were in, but the subtle lift in your legs, and bowed back allows a perfect image for him.

And a perfect chance.

“Gonna work on y’legs now, sweetheart, lemme know if somethin’ ain’t feelin’ good.”

You don’t have a chance to reply as Bucky begins to knead the muscles in your legs. An unrestrained moan escaping from your lips as he uses his thumbs to work the tension out. You feel as though you've been transported to another world, eyes rolling to the back of your head in glorious pleasure.

Meanwhile, Bucky is having the time of his life watching the jiggle of your ass every time he switches up the motion of his strokes. You don’t seem to notice the towel slowly shifting upwards, revealing the bottom of your ass cheeks to him.

He just needs your legs to spread that tiny bit more so he can see your pretty little pussy.

“That feelin’ good for ya, darlin’?”

Apparently, you let go of all inhibitions from the satisfaction Bucky’s hands bring you, all but unbashfully moaning, “Mhmm, god yes Bucky, feels so fuckin’ good.”

That’s what I love to hear.

“Amazin’. Doin’ so great for me sweetheart, jus’ let ya’self relax and Bucky will take care a ya.”

The dip of your back deepens as you unknowingly start to bring your legs more under you, ass canting up like a cat as Bucky’s thumbs rub close to the crevice under your ass cheeks.

He’s so dangerously close to his prize, he can literally see the wetness that’s spilled from your cunt, coating your inner thighs.

Fuck it.

Bracing for the worst, Bucky’s thumb runs over your pussy lips and your breath hitches as the bolt of electricity that shoots through your body. Now fully aware of his intentions, you expect yourself to feel a slither of outrage, some kind of anger at him for letting it go this far and yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to stop him.

Bucky pauses his thumbs in question, waiting to back off as soon as you deny him and allowing you the freedom of consent.

But, you want this.

The fact he stops his ministrations within an inch of your cunt has you unable to hold back your loud whine, ass pushing back into his hold to try and get him to carry on.

As much as Bucky loves your enthusiasm and he’s almost certain you want this as much as he does, he needs to hear your verbal consent in order for him to proceed. “Ah ah, sweet girl, need to know y’want this, need to hear y’say it.”

With great difficulty, fog clouding your head, you manage to mumble a whimper of agreement. “Fuck, y-yes pleaseee Bucky, give it to me.”

And that’s all the confirmation he needs.

Bucky places both thumbs on each cheek and spreads them apart to reveal your pretty, slick pussy, hole pulsing, almost begging to be filled.

You whimper as you feel his long pointer finger slide through the mess you’ve made and teasingly give your throbbing clit a little tap for good measure.

The little shit even has the audacity to chuckle at your desperation.

“Look at ya darlin’, such a fuckin’ good girl for me, ya think we can get y’a little more wet, hm?”.

He laughs at your stutter, no worries for him though, he can’t wait to make sure he leaves your head empty enough for not one single thought to cross your mind.

Bucky gently slaps your leg and bends over you to whisper in your ear, “turn around, pretty girl.”

The last defence of the towel covering your modesty falls from your body as you quickly move to lie on your back, too fucked out to even notice the breeze that hardens your nipples and exposes your tits to Bucky’s gaze.

He could’ve just picked you up and fucked you against the wall right then and there. But Bucky’s a patient man, and he’s not about to put his pleasure before yours. He wants this to last.

Straddling the table as he combs his wild hair back, Bucky grabs your thighs over his forearms with feral need to drag you down towards him, placing your legs over each of his and separating them. This was his personal slice of heaven.

The view of your cunt and the bounce of your tits has him gripping his cock over his jeans, shaky breaths rattling his chest over how turned on he is from the sight - you really were a goddess, a doll for him to play with until you couldn’t walk.

Releasing himself and grabbing the bottle of oil from the table next to him, Bucky looks directly into your eyes, his own hooded as he unscrews the lid. Your high pitched moans and whimpers have his nerves set alight and he can’t wait to see your face as you cum from his fingers alone.

“Buck-Bucky, what a-are you d-doing?”. It takes everything in you to lift yourself on to your elbows, looking down to see him hovering the bottle over your pussy.

“Y’trust me, sweet girl?”. Fuck, with that voice alone you’d put your whole faith in him.

You gently nod as you never take your eyes away from his, that wicked smirk adorning his face as his eyes light up from your answer.

“Good.”

That’s the last thing you hear before you feel the cold splash of oil drip against your pussy and your shocked moan fills the room as your arms give out.

The liquid rolls down your folds, down to your puckered hole and the thought quickly surpasses Bucky of what your reaction would be if he suggested a little anal play.

First things first, Barnes.

Right.

After emptying the remainder of the oil over you, Bucky tosses the bottle onto the floor, and begins to run his fingers over your cunt, shining in all its pleasurable glory. Trailing down to your hole, Bucky begins to press one finger inside you, stopping at the first knuckle only to take it back out and repeat his torturous teasing.

You can’t help your squirming - hands fisted tight in your hair as your toes curl. The relief of a second finger added to the first only lasts for a minute as again, he torments you by going no further than his first knuckles. All you want is for him to slide his fingers as deep as they can go, but Bucky is far too mesmerised with the glisten of his fingers and the feel of your fluttering little pussy.

“W-want more, baby, p-please Bucky, need more.”

The term of endearment as his feasted eyes snap up to look at you, has his cock twitching - you looked so fucking beautiful like this for him and the pleading in your features has him going soft on you.

Always was a sucker for pretty girls begging.

“Need more, sweetheart? Alright pretty girl, y’can have some more.”

You soon figure how Bucky was holding out on you as he fucks you with his two fingers at a quickened pace, the squelch of mixed juices from your cunt loud to your ears and you’d be embarrassed if Bucky didn’t enjoy it.

And he really did, the sound of your arousal leaking out of you because of him leaves him feeling untamed, beastly, as his veins bulge from his arms. His cock is aching, hard from how much he gets off on your pleasure - he knows he can make it better for you, though. He won’t be happy until you lose your voice because of him.

Slowing down, his deep rumble has the knot in your stomach tightening even more, “Think y’can handle another, sweetie? ‘Cause I think y’can, think this wet pussy needs to be filled up till she can’t take no more.”

With that, Bucky eases a third finger along with his other, the stretch just right to have you wailing out with consistent cries of his name.

Curling his fingers against your upper wall, Bucky searches for that spongey rough patch - he wants you to see stars and he isn’t giving up till you do.

“Hold on a sec sweets, lemme just-, find… oh, there it is.”

All of a sudden your back shoots off the table and your scream of pleasure drowns out the sounds of waterfalls in the background.

“Fuck!”

“Tha’s right darlin’, lemme hear y’scream for me.”

You grip his wrist to keep his hand fucking you, his perfect rhythm too good for you to speak something tangible. But you can’t have him changing anything, you need him to keep everything the same, so you can finish.

Bucky still finds it so fucking hot, sweat from exertion gathering on his neck and dripping down his chest. He couldn’t care less, he just wants to see you cum.

He physically has to use his free arm to force your legs open, it won’t do that you’re trying so desperately to close your legs around him. No. He wants to see you tremble in his hold. He’s fucking craving it.

“C’mon baby, know y’so close sweet girl.”

You are so fucking close, so near to that orgasm you haven’t had in so long - you’ve turned dumb, world blurring around you, only important thing in your mind getting to finish.

And you’re done for as soon as Bucky places his thumb on your swollen clit and circles.

“BUCKY!”

He watches as your shrieks fall from your mouth. Tremors rack through your body, legs finally able to close around his hand as tears from the intensity roll down your temples. You’re in your element and he’s never seen sexier in his entire life.

White cream drips from your pussy as Bucky slowly takes his fingers out, not able to help himself as he plays with your folds and starts to fuck your cum back into you.

Soon enough, you begin to calm down, heavy breathing with your occasional whine of overstimulation from his motions blessing his ears.

He leans down to pepper kisses over your heaving stomach and underneath your breasts, other hand stroking over your heated skin and up to your cheek.

“Easy girl, that’s it, deep breaths.”

Bucky continues to talk you down and strokes your sweaty hair back from your face, your eyes closed and mouth open, panting.

He stops his ministrations altogether, but keeps his fingers inside you, his body connected over yours to settle some of his weight on you and bring you back down to earth.

Giving you a couple of minutes to come down from your fluffy clouds, Bucky analyses all your signals to make sure you’re okay and that you feel safe - and once he completes all his internal checks, he flashes you a dazzling smile.

“So… this may be a bit forward a’me, but what d’ya say I take y’out on a date tomorrow night?”

You chuckle breathlessly at his little joke - as if he didn’t already have his fingers still in your cunt. “Only if you answer my question.” you counter back.

“Sure thing, lil’ darlin’.”

Trying to keep your expression aloof you ask, “What did you do before you started training to be a massage therapist?”

He looks like a little confused puppy as he cocks his head and frowns, but answers anyway with a cheeky squint of his eyes.

“I used to work on my mama’s ranch back home, sweetheart.”

Your head rolls back onto your shoulders as Bucky begins picking up the steady pace of his fingers again, fucked out smile on your face in rememberance to your guesses from earlier.

Fucking knew it.

He may not have the slightest clue what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t have to know as long as he’s the one who’s making you smile like that.

And, he already can’t wait for your next meeting as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls down his zipper to bring his dick out and start fucking his fist while he enjoys the sight of his other hand fucking your cunt.

“Now, we got another hour to make sure ya get what y’paid for darlin’, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”

A/N: who doesn’t love a happy ending, right? 😈