#holy night gangster

[welcometogrouchland]

Watching a movie that was described to you as one of the greatest movies of all time and then coming out of it like. Fuck. That really was the best movie of all time. I fell for it. I fucking fell for it. Like Charlie Brown and that damn football

[fragglerockopinions]

I'm in so much pain it's embarrassing. I'm going to look back on these memories of me writhing alone too afraid to sleep biting my knuckles crying about nothing and laugh.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere boys and their favourite positions

Yandere! Soldier likes to be intimate with you, intertwining his fingers with yours and whispering in your ear just how much he loves you. He doesn't like looking in your eyes - your tears remind him that you don't want this and yet he's helpless to stop himself. He's always on top, cosying up between your thighs and burying his face in your neck. He keeps you gagged. It's easier to block out your crying that way.

Yandere! Boyfriend likes to be as close to you as possible. He likes to take you from behind, his arm wrapped around your throat and his chest pressing you into the mattress. Skin against skin from your neck to the tips of your toes. He gets drunk on you so easily, moaning in your ear about how much he loves you, how he'll never let you leave him, how you're the best fuck he's ever had. And despite his hulking size, he whines like a puppy when you come around him. He loves you loves you loves you and he loves being inside you.

Yandere! Cowboy can never get rid of his rough side, it's been built into him after years of rough labour and bad days and bosses with tight fists and tighter purse strings. He'll always be wild with you, pulling your hair, digging his nails into your thighs, biting down on your neck. He cares for his pleasure first and foremost and it doesn't matter if he hurts you to get it. He'll take you any way he can but he loves it when you ride him. He'll put his hat on your head and call you his pretty lil' cowgirl even as he ruts his cock into you until your tits are bouncing.

Yandere! Desert Bandit has to fight his urge to fuck you raw and rotten everytime he takes you. It's a conscious effort to be gentle, to be mindful of his strength. He fails a lot at first. He has years of pent up lust to get through afterall. But someday, he'll manage to make love to you without leaving bruises. He likes to have you under him, with your legs around his waist and his clenched fists on either side of your head.

Yandere! State Trooper is a rotten, corrupt bastard and he knows it. He gets off on the power he has over you - he'll make you crawl to him on your hands and knees, spank your ass red raw and force you to thank him through your tears. He loves taking you bent over - on the furniture, on the hood of his cruiser, with your hands and tits pressed against the shower door... It's not all bad though. You haven't gotten a traffic ticket in ages.

Yandere! Incubus always comes at night. He can't let you see his face, even if you have your suspicions. He's limited by the paralysis he puts you under and usually takes you as he finds you, hands roaming and scratching wherever they can. He dreams of fucking you on the holy altar, your arms around his neck and your tits squished against his chest. He wants to pull the rosary you wear until it chokes you, your piety turned into a goddamn leash. He loves watching you at mass, kneeling under the crucifix and praying to be cleansed. He especially loves you at confession, your voice soft in the half dark and the smell of you all around him.

Yandere! Gangster is not going to fuck you anytime soon. He only has his fists and his fantasies, the poor bastard.

Yandere! Survivor likes you on your belly, your ass angled up to face him. He'll grab your hands and push them into the mattress, his mouth nipping at your shoulders, the nape of your neck, anywhere he can reach. It feels like a declaration of trust when you let him put you in such a vulnerable position. The only drawback is he can't see your face when you come but getting to grab and knead your ass cheeks is a fine consolation.

Yandere! Academic Rival is too focused on school to think about much else. If he was forced to pick, he'll say he wants you up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist. He loves that you need to rely on him to stay balanced, that you bury your head into his neck and whine at his thrusts. Besides that, he desperately wants you on your knees but your pride ensures that never happens unless he gets down and begs first.

[darnell-la]

I NEED A SMUT ONE SHOT OF THIS LOGAN I CANT FIND ANY

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗗 𝗠𝗘

pairing: mob boss! Wolverine x mutant!reader

summary: After getting mutant powers, Wade and y/n thought they could save the city from gangsters to be recruited as an avenger. They soon find out that the boss of all the gangsters in the city is a variant who slipped his way into their universe. A new Wolverine, but the worst of them all.

warnings: blood, possessive, animalistic, neck biting, marking, tasting, smut, etc.

note: Logan can't ignore a woman who's just like him.

please message and request us for more of this variant!

———

How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“How about we shut the fuck up so we can make it out of here alive, hm?” Y/n asked Wade who kept whispering over to her that he swore he knew the man sitting in the chair.

“How would you possibly know a mob boss Wade?” She annoyingly asked, thinking he was joking as usual, but after she turned to look at Wade, she noticed how serious he was.

“That’s the fuckin’ Wolverine,” Wade gasped, noticing the man’s muscles and body structure as well as his hair that stayed up perfectly. Wade was a fanboy and knew from the comics, this had to be a variant of him.

“C’mon, y/n! We’ve had too much shit happen for you to not at least think. Look at him! The man looks exactly like him!” Wade said, as y/n shook her head. Sometimes she regretted teaming up with Wade. This was one of the times.

“God fuckin’ damn, do I have to prove myself every time I say something!?” Wade said before dropping down to the floor and kicking up into the man’s face.

As the man holding Y/n loosened his grip from the unexpected fight with Wade, y/n turned around, elbowing the man in his face, causing him to knock out next to the other man.

“Mister Howlett, I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet you-“ Wade said as he walked towards the man who was still facing the pool table. Before Wade could finish his sentence, the man brought out his claws and stabbed Wade in his face.

Y/n gasped loudly as the man pulled back and Wade fell to the ground, groaning in minimal pain.

Y/n charged at the man, hoping he’d stay faced forward so she could end him, but he got up and grabbed Y/n. All in a swift motion, the man turned her around and slammed her on the table, one hand around her neck as the other brought out his claws and strapped her in the gut.

Y/n yelled, feeling the sharp pain, but it quickly went away. Y/n breathed heavily as she looked up, about to throw a punch, but she froze.

“Holy shit,” she said, seeing rare eyes looking down at her. “Told you!” Wade jumped up onto his feet before a few bodyguards pulled him back.

“H-How?” She asked as the man dug deeper into her stomach with a head tilt. The last time he checked, he was the only one to regenerate. How come a man in a red onesie and a pretty young lady he’s never seen before, can do the same as him.

“Take the man to the basement, and her — Get her cleaned and dressed to my liking,”

Y/n looked at the man, confused as well as Wade. “Hey, wait! We need to talk!” Wade yelled as the men dragged him away. “Don’t worry — We will,” Logan said as he removed his claws from y/n, eyes still burned into her.

Y/n stayed still, looking up at the man she knew was dangerous. He looked dangerously and anyone who knew who Wolverine was, would know he was.

“Fascinating,” the man said as he lifted y/n’s tight shirt up, grazing across her wound that healed in seconds. Logan quickly stepped back and snapped his fingers.

Y/n leaned up, getting ready to fight anyone that came near, but she failed as four men grabbed her. Y/n yelped after a sharp pain stuck in her neck. Before she could say anything, she fell out.

Y/m had woken up thirty minutes ago, cleaned, and dressed in some skin-tight silky dress. She had no idea what was going ok and why she had red bottom heels on.

She stayed seated on the bed in the huge room she was locked in before the door finally opened. “Said, I can handle her, alright? Stop fuckin’ buggin’ me, Bub,” Logan said before shutting the door behind him with a sigh.

“Where’s Wade?” Y/n asked after seeing blood stains on the man’s white suit. “Being held,” he replied as he made his way over to the bed she was on. The young lady crawled back onto the bed until her head hit the headboard.

“Let us go, and we’ll let you love — For now,” she added, making the man chuckle. “You can’t handle me just because you can regenerate, Bub,” Logan said, now standing on the bed.

“Your little partner told me what you were up to. You thought you could kill me? Serious, y/n?“ the man said, making her heart drop. He knew her name. Fuckin’ Wade…

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you. You’ve got me all wrong,” the man said as he reached out to her. The girl flinched, not knowing what he was going to do until his hand softly touched her skin.

“No one knows what I do, so if I tell you this, you’ll have to promise to keep that pretty mouth closed,” he said, taking a look at her lips.

“D-Depends,” she said as his fingers trailed around her leg. “I had been demoted from these bastards wearing helmets. They tried stickin’ me with something, but I took care of it,” Y/n knew what he meant by that.

“Took one of their devices, and got here. Same world but different. Wanna know how?” He asked, hands close to the bottom of her mid-thigh dress. “Why?” She asked low.

“Because pretty girls like you back at home don’t come into my space trying to kill me,” he said, slightly scarring the girl. What did she get herself into?

“But don’t worry, Bub. You thought I was one of them, so I’ll let it slide. I’m not a drug dealer, I’m not a gun dealer, and I don’t kill people unless they demand shit. Usually, they’re bad,”

“Wade isn’t bad, and you stabbed the man,” Y/n said, making the man chuckle. “He was in my face and broke into my home. You gotta understand me on that, princess,” he said, now tracing his hands up her clothed thigh.

“Good, so, now that we’re at some kind of understanding, is like to offer you what I offered your partner,”

“Work with me to keep this place from falling apart. In my last world, I was the bad guy. I was all the things I just told you I’m not. I’ve changed, and I need more people like me to help,”

Y/n was confused at the sudden change in the man. At first, he seemed like he was going to murder her and Wade in the worst way possible, but now, he’s asking for help.

“And if you don’t wanna get your pretty hands dirty, you can just be by my side, lookin’ just like that,” he said, slowly hovering over the girl who didn’t think of pushing him off.

“Hey, your friend’s fine. This isn’t his blood. I know it doesn’t make it better, but just know, the stranger deserved it — Trust me, princess,”

Y/n didn’t know what came over her, but she believed him. Maybe he isn’t bad, and he’s just disguising himself like this to move around the safe.

“You trust me, baby?” He asked as his free hand cupped her chin. “C’mon, Bub — Talk to me,” Logan said as he leaned towards her, lips inches from her. He knew that if she didn’t want him on her, she would’ve done something about it.

“I don’t even know you,” Y/n said, feeling her stomach tingle. How is he doing this to her? “Then let me introduce myself,” the man said before softly attacking her lips, instantly forcing his tongue in her mouth.

Y/n moaned low in between their kiss, hating herself for letting a stranger touch her in any kind of way, but it was hard to push him away. The man was intimidating.

“You don’t understand how good it feels to know there’s someone like me. Especially when they look like you and taste so good,”

Logan hikes the younger lady's dress up until he could fully grab her ass, squeezing until she earned a loud whine. “Soundin’ pretty, Bub,”

Y/n wanted to respond, but the feeling of the man’s teeth softly biting down on her neck stopped her.

Y/n’s hands flew to his shoulders to grip down on as she let out a low whine. The man groaned in her ear before he continued moving his hands down her body.

“Your little friend told me, you and I would get along. He wasn’t wrong, Bub,” the man said as he tugged on his dress pants until his cock fell out, rubbing against y/n’s thigh.

“What did that bastard tell you?” Y/n asked, trying to control her whine as the man kept nibbling on her neck. He was hungry for the young lady and wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Said you’re a hard ass just like me. Can’t listen, do what you want, cuss like a sailor, and need a man to match your energy,”

“Said you’d scare anyone off, but wouldn’t be able to scare me. Seems like you need me as much as I need you,”

Logan pulled Y/n’s panties to the side so he could push at her entrance. “Augh, shit,” the man grunted, feeling the woman grip him instantly.

Y/n’s legs wrapped around the man, tightening to pull him into her so his cock could fill her fast. “Fuck, y/n,” the man was shocked at how much she wanted this too.

“Alright, Bub, I got some rules for ya,” the man said as he leaned up, cock still in her, stroking slowly. “I don’t want you treatin’ no one with respect. You walk around how I dress you, and make it know you’re with me,”

Y/n traced her hands all over the man’s upper body, even his arms as she listened with lustful eyes.

“Gonna need you to stay close to me. Needa keep safe and on my lap, mhkay? Needa keeps my hands on you,” the animal had slipped from Logan. He’d never felt like this before, but the need to claim her all around was no question after he felt her walls clamp onto him.

“All fuckin’ mine, and I know I said Ian a bad guy, but if someone pisses you off or makes you emotional in any kind of way — I swear to god, I’ll separate their head from their body,”

Logan had leaned close to Y/n’s face, allowing her to grab his cheeks and rub at them.

“Need my girl happy. Need her to look good every second of the day. I know you regenerate, but you need me, baby. You need me to protect you from whatever’s out there,”

“Please take care of me,” y/n said, knowing he meant every word he said. He was claiming her now and will claim her any other chance he can.

After she came into his mansion, acting recklessly, he knew he had to keep her in check and close. There are not many people like them, and no one deserves them. No one deserves her. Only he deserves her, and no one can tell him otherwise.

[marvellous1917]

Icarus

(Part 1)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.

Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it

A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?

————

“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.

“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.

“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.

“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.

“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”

“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.

“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.

“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”

“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.

The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.

He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.

“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.

He moved his left hand to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.

The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.

“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.

“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.

“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?

“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.

“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.

“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.

“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.

“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.

“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.

“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”

“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth

“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.

“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.

“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”

“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.

“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”

“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.

“Could you give him some more time?”

He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.

“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help your friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.

“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.

“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”

“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.

The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.

“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?

“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.

“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.

“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.

“Can I see it?”

“…sure,” the word came out as a question.

He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.

“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.

Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.

“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.

“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.

“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design

He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.

“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.

“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.

“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.

“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.

“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.

He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.

“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.

“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.

The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.

“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.

“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.

“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.

“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.

“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”

“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.

“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”

“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.

“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.

Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.

“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.

Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”

“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.

“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.

He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”

“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted

“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.

This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.

“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.

It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”

As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.

James:

Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.

It makes me feel ancient.

I hate that.

[gurugirl]

Can We Start Over? | Ch. 2 The Job Offer

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 2. Summary: You can't stop thinking about what happened the night you met Harry and how much you hate him. But then you get some really good news about a new job. Except there's a catch.

Word Count: 9k

Warning: 18+ only, angst, alcohol consumption

Can We Start Over? masterlist

“Oh my god, Y/n. What a fucking dick. But your response was gold! I wish you’d stayed to see what happened. Holy shit!” Brandy laughed as she clinked her glass with yours, “That was some gangster shit right there!”

You both laughed at your recount of what had happened with Harry. You met your best friend Brandy for Sunday brunch at your usual spot. You had called her on Saturday after your exit paperwork was taken care of with Mr. Spector and said you had some very interesting news to tell her but that you wanted to share it in person. This wasn’t over-the-phone kind of gossip. It was a with-a-martini-in-hand face-to-face kind of gossip.

“And besides… the most important thing is at least you got off. Typical fuck-boy, good in bed but an absolute slut.”

You nodded, “Exactly. And it doesn’t bother me too much, really. Not now. Plus Mr. Spector gave me a really nice parting bonus. And I’m sure I’ll be matched with someone soon for another gig but even if it takes a few months, I won’t have to dig into savings thanks to him.”

And it was true. Mr. Spector presented you with the check and a hug and well wishes and you were nearly in tears by the time you left his estate. The movers were there the whole time, taking furniture out of his lovely home. A home you’d gotten to become very familiar with over the years. You held events and small parties there, you helped him redecorate the master suite and all the bathrooms (well you organized it all and helped the decorators and builders with the design and material selection). You even had your own room there. Not that you often needed to stay but that was part of your job description as a personal assistant. Sometimes you needed to stay. But usually, you’d go home at night.

The service that you worked for assured you there were a few clients in need of a personal assistant and if it was a good match, they’d refer you. That was important. To have the right match. You were lucky you were single and without kids. That meant you were more flexible. But that didn’t guarantee a good match.

You were sure you’d be enjoying a couple of weeks off work off to do nothing. It sounded fantastic.

.           .           .

You hadn’t expected to get an offer so soon. When Monica emailed you on Monday afternoon with the file and details of your new assignment (if you accepted) you perused the document with your mouth agape. You’d been matched with someone with what was known as stealth wealth (most were), who traveled frequently. You’d need to keep a bedroom in their home (not out of the norm) and travel with them from country to country. You would negotiate holidays and time off once meeting in person but the salary offered was the first thing you saw when you looked at the contract. There was no pressure to sign but how could you say no to an offer that would erase your college debt and allow you to buy a home in a year? You couldn’t let this one slip away. 

You emailed Monica back right away that you’d accept it and like to move forward. The next step would be to meet in person. Then, you’d find out more about who you’d be working for. The service was very discreet. The client was always given absolute anonymity until it was time for the first meeting.

You stared at your computer screen as if to will Monica to respond faster. Sipping your coffee you tapped your foot against the floor in anticipation. You kind of would have enjoyed some time off. A week or two of downtime. Sleeping in. Catching up on all the movies and shows you hadn’t had time to watch on Netflix. Order in pizza and Chinese, and day drink in your pajamas. But this opportunity wouldn’t be on the table for much longer. Another person would snatch this up in a heartbeat. That dollar sign alone would see to it.

When Monica finally responded you placed your mug of coffee down, held your breath, and clicked the email.

You’ll be meeting with the client tomorrow at 8:00 am at an address that will be sent to you via our private messaging app at 5:00 am. He requests you bring a physical copy of your resume and if you both agree to terms tomorrow he’ll bump up your salary 10% automatically. Confirm this is okay and I’ll set up the rest. Monica

You squealed as you quickly typed back a resounding Yes! Book it! Thank you!

You stood up and paced. Okay. So you learned the client was a he. Well, you’d blow him away. You’d make him want to hire you on the spot with that lovely little 10% bump.

You already knew the outfit. Thanks to working for Mr. Spector, you’d been allotted a stipend for very nice, and well-tailored outfits for when you needed to look chic and professional. Great for a first meeting, your double-breasted jacquard wool coat in neutral colors with a pop of blue, and your blue silk button-up tucked into your jacquard wool skirt, matching the coat. Stylish, flattering, and appropriate for meetings with a wealthy man who would undoubtedly be dressed very nicely as well.

It was perfect. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d gotten. A new assignment so quickly and one that paid so well? It felt like fate.

.           .           .          

Harry had his house manager, Lucio, contact a highly recommended service to find a personal assistant for himself. He hated to find someone new because that was just one more person who knew his business. And he preferred having very few people in his circle. But Thasi was dumb. He couldn’t bear to have her working for him another minute. She had trouble with very basic tasks, like adding events to his calendar. She’d even missed two flights that he had booked for her and the last flight she missed he only realized it when she came into his study with a folder asking him about an account he needed to close out.

He stood from his desk and looked at the girl in astonishment, “Thasi. Why are you not 30,000 feet in the air right now? Why are you here standing in my house asking me this question? You are meant to be headed to New York City.” His voice was firm. Irritated.

The girl dropped her mouth open and blinked her eyes until it had finally dawned on her that she had forgotten to make her flight to meet with an art dealer on Harry’s behalf.

“I take it by the look on your face that you now realize your irreversible blunder. You’re fired. I’ll have your things sent back to your home by tomorrow afternoon.”

The poor girl couldn’t even argue with him. She knew she’d blown it. That was her second missed flight, of equal importance. And Harry felt he’d been quite generous and patient with her by giving her another chance. But he shouldn’t have.

So when he learned about Personal Premier Services from a few of his colleagues he decided to look for a PA that way rather than on his own like he had with Thasi. Harry’d had good luck finding staff for everything he needed for the last five years without help. The personal assistant was something rather new to him as he usually did most of his own errands by himself or had Lucio do them. But things were changing in his business and he needed an assistant quite desperately.

Harry woke before the sun rose and took his morning jog. He loved getting his day started earlier than most people. It meant he had time to do things like, exercise, catch up on world news, meditate, shower, and eat breakfast all before most other people would even be out of their beds. He also wished he could just stay awake forever. Wished he didn’t need sleep. There were so many things he could accomplish during the hours he wasted sleeping. But, being that he was only a mere human, his body required sleep.

“Sir? Y/n Y/l/n has just arrived. I have her waiting in the sitting room. Would you like me to bring her up?”

Harry cocked his head and looked to Lucio as he sat his pen down, “What did you say her name was again?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

Why did that name somehow feel so familiar?

“No. That’s okay, Lucio.” He stood from his chair, “I’ll go and greet her myself. Thank you.”

Harry’s immediate instincts told him that name was familiar. But why? And oddly, he first let his mind wander to it being you. But it couldn’t be. You were at the ball and he was certain you were wealthy just like him based on your outfit and your demeanor. He’d only gotten your first name that night, not your last name. And while Y/n was your name, the person looking for a job waiting for him downstairs certainly wouldn’t be the same woman who had put a used condom on his hotel door’s handle only to have his now ex-friend-whatever-she-was find it.

Yes. The ex-friend. Aster. He knew he should have stopped their little arrangement before she got too attached. It was never meant to be anything serious. From the start, he told her he was seeing other people but she never wanted to hear about anyone else he might have been sleeping with. And when he realized she started getting attached he should have recognized it was time to end it. But he didn’t.

Harry clenched his jaw and swallowed.

The knocking on his door had come a lot faster than he’d hoped. Aster wasn’t even supposed to be there. Her flight had been canceled so she wasn’t going to make it to New York City. He told her he’d see her the following day when he flew back. But of course, she rebooked a later flight without him knowing. As a surprise. And the call from Aster telling him she was on her way had shocked him and really put a damper on the night he thought he’d be enjoying with you. He just hoped she hadn’t passed you on her way to the door.

As soon as he opened it up, Aster slapped him across the face and held up a napkin with a blush-colored lip stain on it and a scribbled note. But what really had his attention was a droopy condom on his doorknob. Fresh with his come.

“What the fuck, Harry? What the fuck?!”

“Aster, I don’t… what is this?” He knew goddamn well what it was. It was you. “I think someone is just playing a joke on me. This isn’t mine…”

“The note, Harry? Whoever it is knows your fucking name.” Aster pushed passed him to make her way into the room.

Harry looked down the hallway and then cringed as he pulled the condom from the knob with the discarded tissue he picked up off the floor.

“Babe, this was just a cruel joke from someone–“

“Don’t you dare call me babe! And I don’t believe you. Who is going to play this kind of joke on you and then write your name on a napkin from the event you were just at?” She tossed him the napkin, “Hmm? I bet I know who. Someone you just fucked and kicked out because you didn’t think I’d come.”

Harry looked down at the napkin. Sure enough, it said A Secret Garden in the City with Alfred Spector’s company logo printed on it, as well as the note you’d written – Thank you, Harry xx. Bitch. He dropped the napkin onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair.

He didn’t know what to say. And it wasn’t like he’d been all that serious about Aster to begin with. She was gorgeous and they’d known one another for a while but that was where his attraction ended. In all honesty, he didn’t like her that much. Perhaps this was for the better, as much of an asshole as that made him seem.

“Aster, look…” he sighed and sat down at the edge of the messy bed, “You and I weren’t exactly serious. It’s always just been casual. You know that,” he looked at her with her hands on her hips, red in the face, tears just breaking her lash line. “I’m sorry. You and I were never headed for marriage. It was just some fun for a bit.”

“Some fun? I flew out here to see you on a whim. Not because I thought you were just a bit of fun but because I actually did like you. But you know what? You’re right. I don’t think I could have ever pictured myself marrying someone like you. Selfish, pathetic, overly regimented. You’re doomed to die alone, Harry.”

She pressed her lips together and waited for a response but when it didn’t come she stomped toward the door, slamming it behind her on her way out.

Harry smoothed his expensive blazer out and brushed off the feeling he was getting as he walked through the hallway to the foyer and then peeked into the sitting area where his interviewee would be sitting and waiting for him.

He nearly jumped back when his eyes met yours. Both of your faces held the same expression. Complete shock lined with minor disgust.

“This must be a joke,” you stood up from the plush silk-lined chair you’d been sitting in and looked around the room as if someone were going to pop out and tell you that you were on that show, Candid Camera, and it was all for a good laugh.

But the only person in your sight was the man you had a one-night stand with. The cocky asshole who’d treated you like garbage and then kicked you out of his room when he got a call from someone.

“I think there must be a mistake… You’re… are you a personal assistant? I’m confused.” Harry mimicked your body language, pivoting himself to look around to see if he could find someone and demand answers.

“Yes. That’s what I do for a living. But clearly, I have no intention of working for anyone like you, so if you don’t mind…” you picked up your briefcase and began to walk toward Harry to move past him and see yourself out.

But just as you walked through the threshold of the sitting room to the foyer Harry spoke, “Y/n.”

You stopped and turned to look at him in question.

“Come. Let’s have a chat,” he turned and began walking toward the grand stairwell that led upstairs, turning back to make sure you were following.

You blinked your eyes and scoffed as you looked down at your red-painted nails. Should you follow him? What would be the point? Just to hear him insult you and turn you away at the end anyway?

“You are looking for a job, are you not?” Harry spoke from the bottom of the stairwell, his hand on the lacquered wooden banister.

“I am. But… I don’t think this would work out.” You gestured at him.

“You and I are professionals and you come highly regarded. I’m in great need of an assistant. At the very least we can have a discussion and see where it takes us. I don’t like my time wasted and I’m sure you don’t either. You came all the way here. Let’s at least talk.”

Harry thought you looked cute and he could see the gears turning in your head. He could deal with the one night he’d had with you and the very improper thing you’d done which outed him to Aster if you were good at what you did.

“Yeah, but we…” you chose your words carefully, “Friday night? I honestly don’t think–“

“I can look past that if you can. This is strictly professional. I’ve no interest in anything more.”

What were you to do? He hadn’t just been a one-night stand. He was an asshole. Could he really pretend that none of that had happened? Could you?

But. There was the matter of the salary he was offering. An enticing and frankly irresistible number that could have you swallowing your pride.

“Fine. But I can assure you I will not tolerate being treated like…” you paused to carefully choose your words again. You were certain his house had staff listening in.

Before you could find the word you were seeking, Harry spoke, “Like an assistant who is paid to do her job flawlessly?” He began to take the steps upward and you followed.

You frowned at his description. As if you wouldn’t do your job flawlessly. You weren’t sure what he was implying but you had a bad feeling about this.

When you followed him into a large study with dark woods and big windows with heavy drapes, a huge walnut desk with an expensive chair and bookshelves lining one of the walls he closed, and locked, you noted, the door behind himself, “Sit.”

You looked at the plushy green velvet chairs with tufted cushions and ornate carvings in the arms and legs and placed your bag down on the chair next to the one you sat in. He sat in his own chair at his desk and looked at you, a harsh expression on his face. He was far more intimidating in this setting.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he spoke clearly as he kept his eyes pinned to yours, “What you did when you left that night is unforgivable in a personal setting. And because of that, you and I will never be friends. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work well together as boss and employee. I expect complete discretion and a professional attitude from anyone that works for me. Is that a problem for you?”

You felt your ears growing hot as your anger slowly rose, “I am the most professional and discreet personal assistant you’ll ever find. Anyone else will disappoint you and I would also expect that any employer would treat me professionally and fairly. What you did to me that night was insulting and something I will never forget nor forgive. So don’t worry, I’d never want to be a friend to anyone like you.” 

Harry clenched his jaw at your response and nodded, “Fair enough. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk job details and salary.” Harry looked down at his folder and opened it up.

“Salary? That part was already determined. Plus 10% on top if we come to an agreement on terms of employment today.” You reminded him.

Harry laughed and looked up at you with his head tilted to the side as if he were curious about you, “That was before I knew who I was offering such a generous salary to.” He looked down at the paper in front of him, marking something out and scribbling over it. He held the sheet of paper out to you.

You squinted at him and leaned forward to take the paper and your eyes widened at the new number he’d written in on the contract. You laughed and crumpled the paper as you stood from your chair, dropping it onto the floor and lifting your bag, “Goodbye, Mr. Styles.”

Turning and walking over the grand Persian rug that took up most of the floor you reached for the handle and when you pulled realized the door was locked. You placed your fingers over the keyhole and turned back to the smug fucker. He sat comfortably in his chair with his brows raised at you, unimpressed.

“Unlock the fucking door. This conversation is over.” You were fuming.

“And why’s that? I feel like that’s just a starting place. A negotiation if you will. Tell me why you deserve more and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“This isn’t a game. You had a perfectly fine offer that I was willing to negotiate off of but now you’re just insulting me, once again might add. I’d never work for anyone for that wage. Much less a self-absorbed man who treats women like rubbish.”

Harry folded his lips into his mouth as he tampered his grin. His cocky attitude was infuriating, “Oh please. Save the dramatics. Sit.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “No. You’re an overly egotistical moron with nothing to back it up. I will not stand for being insulted this way.”

Harry pushed himself out of his chair and began to walk toward you, “Nothing to back it up? Wrong,” he grinned as he looked around his extravagantly decorated room and back toward you, “This home is a great example of what I’ve got to show for my accomplishments. My bank accounts as well,” he slowly walked to your side and put his hand onto the heavy oak door you were standing in front of as he licked his lips and looked down at your outfit before looking directly into your eyes, “And I’m pretty sure I had you crying my name over and over again when I made you come. I’d say that’s a great reason for my inflated ego. You certainly thought I was great when I had my dick inside of you.”

You swallowed and then scowled at his nerve to bring up such a thing, “Well, like you said, I’m a bit dramatic. I was overplaying it that night because I didn’t want you to feel bad. Now open the fucking door.”

Harry’s smirk didn’t fall as he leaned in closer, “Liar. You loved it,” then he backed away, giving you enough space to breathe, “Not that you’ll ever have a chance to experience it again.”

“Like I’d want that little thing anywhere near me. Now, are you gonna open the door or do I need to call 911 for attempted kidnapping?” You dug into your bag and pulled your cell phone out.

Harry laughed and you watched in dismay as his dimples appeared. He looked too handsome to be such an asshole. He put his hands up in surrender, “Okay. Fine. We’ll go back to negotiating off the original salary plus 10%. Okay?”

You sighed. You hated that you were even considering it. The salary he was offering was too good, though. You could handle him if he kept personal matters out of your working relationship. The worst-case scenario would be that you quit and told the service about him and how he treated you (of course you’d gather evidence so no one else had to put up with his shit) and then find another job working for someone else.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to go back to your seat.

Harry rounded the desk and sat down, putting his elbows on the desk once again, just like he’d done when you both first sat down to negotiate terms, “There we go. Money talks doesn’t it?”

Unfortunately, he was right. Money does talk.

You rolled your eyes again and looked at the back corner of his office to relieve yourself from his intense gaze.

“Less attitude, Y/n. Let’s begin, shall we?”

You suffered through an hour of going back and forth on expectations with Harry but at the end realized it wasn’t that bad. Once you both got out your frustrations at the beginning it seemed to flow smoothly after.

You even talked him into paying you 15% more, rather than just the 10%. Which you felt was a big win. Harry didn’t seem that phased by it.

He led you to what would be your room, which had your jaw dropping to the floor. It was… gorgeous. Like the rest of the house, it was grand and old but well-kept. The wide plank dark floors were covered with a light cream wool rug with small yellow, green, and blue flowers woven into the fabric. Long soft, lacy drapes hung from the ceiling and brushed against the floor over the tall windows that overlooked the massive back garden full of trees and flowers and fountains. The king-sized four-poster bed had a pale yellow, silk canopy with tiny blue birds sewn into the material. The bedspread was white silk with the same yellow and blue birds sewn in. Ornate, heavy wooden side tables, a dresser with a big vanity and silk-covered cushion sat across from the bed. An antique chandelier hung in the center of the room, high above the bed. Flowers and potted plants with green leaves rounded out the space. There were two closed doors. One led to a small closet (not a surprise it was so small for the period of the house), and the other to a fully updated, spa bathroom which… you really had to pause for a bit as you took it all in.

Harry handed you keys to the house and a fob key that would allow you in the gates that surrounded the home and told you to arrange to have your things moved in by the following day (on his tab) and that you would start work at 8am sharp.

You called Brandy the moment you drove out of the gates to tell her what had just happened.

“It’s him. It’s the asshole one-night stand. I just accepted the offer to be his assistant.”

“I’m coming over with a bottle of wine. I need details in person.”

“Brandy, I’ve got to make arrangements and get everything ready, I don’t know…” you hemmed as you drove down the road with your heart beating fast in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d just accepted to work with Harry Styles.

“Don’t make stupid excuses with me. You can do all that with a glass of wine in your hand.”

.           .           .

“I see why you took the job. Damn. I’m jealous,” Brandy spoke as she stood in your bedroom doorway while you packed up things you’d need right away. Harry explained that you’d be staying at his house more often during the week than your own apartment. He ran a tight schedule and driving an hour to his house every morning didn’t sound appealing and he didn’t like to be kept waiting.

“Yeah. I was going to say no. I really was but… how can I turn down that offer? I’ve never made so much in my life and honestly? Probably never will again. I figure it’ll be like a trial run. We’ll see if he can be professional.”

You called around and found movers and arranged for them to have everything delivered to Harry’s address the following afternoon. It was still early in the day so you scheduled to have a set of your spare keys delivered by a courier by 5 pm so they could have access to your apartment the following day as you’d be gone.

You were busy the whole time Brandy was there but you were glad she was with you. You marked items you needed to have delivered and printed out a sheet of paper for a checklist for the movers.

But by the time your keys were picked up by the courier and you were halfway through the bottle of wine, you’d finally had time to sit and relax.

“You two are totally gonna fuck again,” Brandy grinned as she looked at the TV.

You scoffed and smacked her arm, “We are not. I’d never go near him again. Not after that night. I actually, fully despise him.”

“Yeah… sure. I mean… I know he was an asshole but also the way you spoke about how good he was in bed? How do you turn that down? You two are gonna practically be living together and traveling together. I don’t know… I looked him up. He’s hot, Y/n. An asshole but… we all have needs.”

Shaking your head you sipped your wine and ignored her. The thought had very very briefly crossed your mind but it was quickly pushed away because the reminder of how he treated you Friday night couldn’t be ignored. You’d never ever forget the way he made you feel so little and so disgusting.

“He literally cheated on someone while he was with me. He had a girlfriend. He fucked me as she was on her way over. Like…” you flailed your arms dramatically, “how could I possibly sleep with someone that is a cheater? I mean willingly? Now that I know?” You shook your head.

Still, Brandy didn’t seem deterred in her assumption, “Yeah… but we don’t really actually know who called him. And if it was someone he was seeing? I mean… come on. It’s not as if they were married. We can gather that much. Yeah, he’s shit for what he did but like… I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s not like he cheated on his wife or something.”

Brandy had always looked at things through rose-tinted glasses which was annoying. Where you were more practical and stubborn. There was no way you’d end up in his bed ever again. You didn’t know the excuse for why he kicked you out after he spoke on the phone and called someone babe. But that was beside the point. The more important factor was the way he treated you and that was simply unforgivable.

.           .           .

You were running late. You couldn’t believe it. Your alarm had gone off on time. You showered, ran through your quick morning routine, double-checked that all your things would be delivered to the correct address, and then you were on the road by 6:45 am. You allotted an extra 15 minutes in case of extra bad traffic.

But traffic is unpredictable.

“Hello?” Harry spoke into the receiver. You had your phone on speaker.

“Harry? Mr. Styles!” You corrected yourself, “Um… I’m stuck on the highway and it’s a bit backed up. I’m just giving you a heads up that I’ll be like…” You sighed and looked at the clock trying to make some kind of conservative estimate, “twenty minutes late?”

You heard him grunt in response and then sigh, “Fine. Please come up to my office the minute you walk in.” And then he hung up. That was it.

And of course, you half expected such a response. He gave you little indication of his opinion on you being late. You just hoped he didn’t hold it against you on your first day. It had genuinely been out of your hands. But then again, you being at the house with him on subsequent mornings would mean that being late in this way wouldn’t happen ever again.

When you parked at the front of the house you finagled your suitcase out of the backseat and lugged it up the front steps just as the door opened, “Good morning, Miss. Can I bring this to your room for you?” An older man stood with a smile as he scooped your suitcase away from you.

“Oh. Uh… Okay. Are you sure?” You followed him inside.

“Absolutely. Mr. Styles is expecting you right away.”

You swallowed and watched the man walk away as you took a breath. Your first day working for Harry Styles. Possibly also your last, depending on how everything went.

You climbed the stairs toward his study and knocked twice before pushing the door open gently.

“Come and sit.” He spoke right away. He didn’t even glance your way as he continued typing at his computer when he spoke.

You sat in the same chair you had the day previous and waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.

He cleared his throat and squinted at his computer screen, “I’m an art dealer as I mentioned yesterday. But… it’s more complicated than that sometimes. I deal in art and cultural artifacts that can sometimes be a bit…” he looked at you, “morally grey in the way they are handled. It’s rare but I do occasionally have opportunities and come across certain pieces when a collector is willing to pay an exorbitant finder’s fee for the item.”

“Morally grey. Which means illegal.” You corrected, keeping your eyes on him.

He shook his head, “No. Nothing I do is illegal. Some take issue with some of the items I procure and where they come from, but ultimately, everything I do is technically legal.”

You nodded. You didn’t know what he meant exactly. But you assumed you’d be finding out soon enough.

After Harry explained in detail your schedule from day to day, he had Lucio give you a quick tour of the parts of the house you didn’t see the day before. He even had a binder with your tentative weekly schedule, important numbers to have on hand, addresses, passcodes, a new laptop, and passwords to his login details for various online accounts. He also handed you a credit card, “You’ll make all your own arrangements as well as mine. The limit on this card will cover the cost of flights and accommodations. You and I will be traveling frequently, as I mentioned yesterday.”

Your morning was filled with short bursts of Harry giving you information and what to expect, but half of that consisted of you waiting while he spoke on the phone and typed out emails. You couldn’t imagine why an art dealer would be as busy as seemed to be. Clearly, he was making lots of money so there was no doubt that he was busy with clients. But why?

You researched the ins and outs of being an art dealer the evening before, once Brandy’s Uber arrived to take her home. The typical art dealer did not make the kind of money you knew Harry had. Most also typically worked through auctions, galleries, and museums. Harry seemed to be his own entity doing deals as an individual.  So you knew he wasn’t typical in his field.

At lunchtime you were hungry. You’d eaten something small before dashing to your car that morning but that had long been digested.

“Mr. Styles?” You looked at him from your spot in your chair as you closed your new laptop.

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s lunchtime for me. I was hoping I could get something to eat if that’s okay? You should probably also eat. I can bring you something if you take your lunch up here.” You honestly couldn’t have cared less if he ate, but you were so used to making sure Alfred ate that asking Harry was automatic.

Harry’s brows scrunched together and he looked at his computer screen, “Hadn’t realized the time. Sure. Feel free to make something for yourself or you can ask Carl to. I’d like a vegan cassoulet.”

You stood and looked at him in confusion, “A vegan… what?”

“A vegan cassoulet,” He pronounced the word obnoxiously, “Carl will know what I want. Just tell him.”

You repeated the word to yourself. Cas ooo lay – cas ooo lay… You thought it sounded like one of those French dishes you’d never ventured to try.

In the kitchen, you found Carl right away and told him what Harry wanted.

“And what for you?” He began to pull out pans and got to work right away.

“I can manage. I think just a sandwich. Is everything here in the fridge?” You opened up the door and immediately were overwhelmed by the amount of groceries and items packaged inside. The fridge itself was state-of-the-art. Everything in the kitchen was.

Carl laughed and stepped up behind you, “You can find everything you might need in this kitchen yes. But perhaps we’ll leave the cooking to me today, just until you get used to where everything is. What kind of sandwich would you like?”

“Oh. Maybe that’s a good idea. You don’t mind?”

Shaking his head, Carl reached passed you to pull out some vegetables, “Not at all. This is what I do. How about a French bread panini? I can slice up some turkey and Swiss, load it with vegetables? Or maybe you’d prefer grilled chicken and pesto? Egg salad? Or are you vegetarian?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I’m definitely not vegetarian. And the first one sounds fine. Turkey and Swiss panini. Any veggies you put on it will be good. I just don’t like mayo.”

It was wild to be having lunch made for yourself by a professional private chef. And Harry’s cassoulet looked divine but after googling it you learned it’s usually made with various kinds of meat and that the duck confit is what makes the dish. But since his version was supposedly vegan, you couldn’t imagine it tasting anything like it was probably supposed to.

You also learned that Carl wasn’t just a personal chef. He also did all the grocery shopping.

After lunch, your belongings arrived. The movers placed everything in your new bedroom and handed you the key to your apartment before they left.

“This is it?” Harry asked standing in the doorway as he looked around at the boxes and bags you’d had delivered.

“Yeah. I don’t have much I need to keep here. You’ve got the room fully furnished. Just my clothes and essentials.” You shrugged as you opened up the box near the bed.

You could feel Harry’s eyes on you as you dug into the box and pulled out your potted Pothos plant. “What?” You looked at him as you placed the plant on the floor.

“Nothing. Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I think it’s a good stopping point today. We’ve got you set up on everything so you can unpack and relax. Normally our days will be longer but since it’s your first…” he put both arms down by his side and stopped fidgeting, “It’s good for today. And like I said earlier, you are free to watch TV in the main room downstairs or get anything from the kitchen you need at all. You don’t need to just stay in your room all night unless you choose to.”

You squinted at him, wondering if there was some kind of catch. He was rather pleasant, you had to admit. After you both got everything out of the way the day before things had been fine. Normal even. But you still had to keep your guard up around him. And all it took to remember who you were dealing with was what he’d done that night.

You decided against going downstairs to watch TV. Maybe you’d feel comfortable enough to do that later on but that night, it felt nice to take a long bath and listen to music and then curl up on your soft, silky bed with your laptop and Netflix.

Though you did get thirsty. And a bit hungry around 8. So you ventured down and hoped to not run into anyone.

Except of course, you ran into someone. When you entered the kitchen you saw Harry standing in front of the refrigerator looking in. Apparently, he had the same idea as you.

You cleared your throat and Harry turned to see you there, “Oh, hey.” He closed the fridge and faced you, “Need something?”

You nodded and stepped toward the pantry, “A little hungry and thirsty. Is it okay?”

“Of course it is. Help yourself to whatever. I was just about to make some pasta. Something simple. Would you like some?”

“Yeah. I can help you make it. What do we need?” You neared the fridge and opened it up, pulling out a glass pitcher of water.

Harry ran down the list of ingredients, which weren’t many, and you helped him slice garlic while he boiled the pasta and poured a can of San Marzano tomatoes into a small pot.

Everything came together quickly and you both sat at the island to eat the late-night meal together.

“Tomorrow we’ll book a trip to Vancouver. Someone has a few pieces I’d love to see in person.” Harry explained what to expect on the trip as you listened.

Then you got to talking about your parents and then college. Harry shared a little about himself but it wasn’t much. You didn’t expect that he would, but he did tell you about his mom and sister. You could tell how important they were to him just by the way he spoke. It made you feel warm toward him in a way knowing that he cared about people other than himself. Something you hadn’t been sure about as he seemed so cold.

When you were both done you tried to help him clean up, “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I’ve got a housekeeper who will be here in the morning. Why don’t you go to bed?”

“Are you sure? Are you headed to bed?” You asked as you placed the forks into the sink.

He nodded, “Yeah. Time to call it a night.”

“Do you always go to bed this early,” you grinned as you refilled your water to bring it with you to your room.

He raised his brows, “Yeah. I get up at 4:30 in the morning to start my day so 9:30 or 10 is about when I go to bed.”

You cringed to yourself. 4:30 in the morning? That sounded like hell.

You both went your separate ways as you bid Harry good night.

.           .           .

You had a busy morning. You booked a trip for the following week to Vancouver for yourself and Harry. Two nights at The Four Seasons (2 separate rooms, connected), first-class airline tickets, a reservation for the 2nd evening at a nice restaurant for four people, an on-call driver for the whole visit, and set-up details with someone’s assistant named Lana for the meeting.

Harry wanted everything to be perfect so you had to work at extracting as much information from Lana as possible. At first, Lana sent you an itinerary that was rather simple and would have most people feeling good about the meeting. But Harry took one look at it and knew he needed more information. So you spent the majority of your morning speaking with the young woman and filling in details that appeared to be missing.

“This is excellent, Y/n,” Harry looked up at you as he stood from his desk. The itinerary and all the bookings were taken care of. “I’m leaving to take care of something personal. You can have the rest of the day off. Thank you.”

You felt pleased. So far, working for Harry hadn’t been all that bad. He was picky and hard to please but you could handle him. You just hoped that the momentum you two had would continue into the weeks ahead.

.           .           .

You met Brandy out at your favorite club. You wore a cute black dress and black booties and your black leather jacket.

“Oh damn, girl! You look good!” Brandy called to you when she spotted you through the crowd.

“I can’t stay all night! I have to work in the morning, so I stop at 2 drinks!” You spoke loudly so Brandy could hear.

Brandy’s side eye told you that your friend would be trying to get you to enjoy yourself for longer. But you couldn’t. The last thing you wanted to do was to be on Harry’s bad side and be hungover the next morning.

But, Brandy was convincing. Too convincing at times.

Four martinis in and you were painfully aware that you wouldn’t be driving back. You’d need an Uber and that kind of sucked because Harry would know when your car wasn’t there. But… since you’d already need to Uber and you were already out, you had a fifth martini and danced with Brandy and forgot all about your promise to yourself.

The night grew blurry and you couldn’t stop talking about your boss.

“He’s so put together too,” you slurred as you and Brandy leaned into one another, too drunk to dance or drink anymore.

“I know. You keep saying that. And how big his cock was,” Brandy laughed and you pushed her, causing her to stumble back dramatically so you reached out to steady her but wound up falling with her to the floor in a fit of laughter.

Yeah, you’d gotten sloppy drunk.

“I need to go,” you pushed yourself up to stand as you reached for your cell phone. You could hardly see straight, and pulling up the Uber app was simply not going to work. Instead, you called the second to last person you’d texted, Harry. You really hadn’t put much thought into it.

He answered the line and you pushed your way toward the front of the club to go outside, dragging Brandy with you, “Harry!” You howled loudly.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Club Yega. Can you pretty please come pick me up? I’m so drunk.” Your voice was scratchy and your words were watery.

Once you got outside you repeated your question, unable to hear what Harry had responded to you.

“Okay. Just wait for me outside. Is there anyone with you?” He sounded concerned.

“Brandy is here and the security guy standing by the door,” you said matter-of-factly before hiccupping.

Harry told you he’d be there soon and Brandy wobbled into your side as she used one eyeball to call an Uber for herself.

You were unable to recall how long it took for Harry to arrive, or when Brandy had gotten into her Uber and left but when you saw him, he was standing over you with his hand out, “Up you get,” he grasped your hand and helped you stand up. You’d been sitting on the sidewalk.

“Should be more responsible,” Harry chided you as he helped you to his running car, “No one’s watching over you. Where’s this friend you had with you?”

“She was here I promise but her Uber came to get her,” you stumbled into his car and plopped down into the seat with an umph!

Harry looked back at the front door security person and nodded to him as he rounded the car and got inside.

“Harry, I’m sorry. I was going to only have 2 drinks. Swear.”

“It happens. But you should have called me sooner. Don’t like that you were sitting out there alone like that. It’s late. And we have an early day tomorrow.”

You turned to look at him as he pulled into the street and reached a hand up to the curl that covered the top of his ear, “You’re so pretty. Which is weird because you’re such a fucking dick.”

Harry shook his head and laughed to himself as he kept his eyes on the road.

“I’m serious. You’re too pretty for it to be real. Your voice even.” You croaked.

Harry glanced at you quickly, “Oh yeah?” His grin widened. He knew the alcohol was talking but he certainly didn’t mind hearing your thoughts about him while you were inebriated.

“Yeah,” you lowered your finger to his shoulder and then poked at his bicep before dropping your hand back into your lap, “Nice everything. Except you’re not actually nice are you?” You let out a garbled laugh and closed your eyes for a moment.

“Hey… Come on. You’re drunk. Just close your eyes and we’ll be home soon.”

You shook your head and looked back at him, “Bossy too. But it sucks because it was so good that night. God I still think about it… and then I remember how you kicked me out like I was filthy. That was mean. Hurt my feelings.”

Harry sighed and stayed quiet. He was not going to engage in this kind of conversation with you while you were drunk. He was sure you wouldn’t remember any of it anyway.

But you didn’t stop there, “I wish I could stop thinking about it, though. S’not fair.”

Harry kept his eyes on the road and listened.

“The way you sounded when you were coming. I keep hearing it,” you squeezed your thighs together and looked out the window with a soft sigh. “Never had it like that before. But fuck you.”

Harry swallowed and blinked his eyes. He was a little surprised by your drunk confession. He liked that you thought fondly of some aspects of that night. Clearly you had enjoyed the sex. But to hear you saying how your feelings were hurt and that you were still angry about it all?

He looked over at you and down to your thigh where your dress had ridden up quickly before looking back at the road. He still refused to engage in this. You were drunk. Very much so.

“And your hands, Harry…” you reached over to brush your fingers over the back of his hand that was gripped on the steering wheel, “Oh god…” you breathed your words, “Your fingers. How good you are with them,” you bit your lip and leaned your head back into the leather seat and closed your eyes. “But still fuck you.”

When you were silent for a few minutes Harry looked over at you and noticed you were asleep.

He was glad you’d stopped staying the things you were. Your words had him confused. You were going from hot to cold fast. But he knew you wouldn’t ever reveal such things to him if you hadn’t been so far gone.

Waking you up gently, he put his arms under yours to help you out of his car, “We’re home, Y/n. Let’s get you up to bed.”

You were able to use your legs, but things were spinning. You clung tightly to Harry as he slowly brought you upstairs to your room.

When your bottom hit your mattress you laid back and sighed, “I might throw up,” you said.

Harry laughed quietly and shook his head as he helped you out of your shoes. He knelt down and unzipped the leather to pull each one off. He didn’t intend to let his eyes wander over your legs and your thighs, but your dress had gotten bunched up so he could practically see your panties. And then they were fully on view when you scooted yourself into your bed further.

Harry leaned over you and pulled your blankets up over your body, “I’ll be right back with water.”

He couldn’t believe how adorable he thought you were. Even though you were still angry at him over what he’d done he liked the sass a little. He was definitely attracted to you. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He tried not thinking about that night with you but after you’d brought it up he couldn’t help himself but to indulge in thoughts of the way you felt and how wet you got for him. Your body, your voice… You were good with your hands too, he smiled remembering your comment about how you liked his hands. But of course, the smile fell from his face when he remembered how the night ended. How shitty he’d been. But now things were too complicated and he wasn’t sure that any kind of apology would ever be enough.

When he got back to your room you were asleep. Out cold. He placed the water on your nightstand and brushed his fingers along your forehead. You were cute.

He plugged in your cell phone and smiled at your sleeping face.

“Good night, pretty girl,” he whispered as he turned off the lamp next to you before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.

Part 3

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[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)

part two: here

Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left. 

information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!

warnings: none for this chapter!

please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!

“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter. 

You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband. 

“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction. 

Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time. 

“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool. 

“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected. 

‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?” 

“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath. 

You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though. 

“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long. 

“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking. 

You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.

‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’

‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’

‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’

Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it. 

While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone. 

“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby. 

“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 

“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”

“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time. 

You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby. 

“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body. 

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope. 

“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.” 

“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-” 

“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now. 

“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his. 

“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?” 

“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.

[kithtaehyung]

— ryen’s tumblr wrapped 2024 

i didn’t even know these were a thing but i did notice that tumblr wasn’t doing those wrapped posts, so thank you to @yoonia and @jjungkookislife for tagging me so i could join! fashionably late but i’m slidin’ through the door :D 

before we get to the stats, i just wanted to give a huge thank you to everyone that’s been here with me in 2024. many things happened, both on and off this blog, so to know who’s a real one and either stuck with me or trusted me makes me happy and at peace. there’s a lot i haven’t said, but just know that i love you all and am grateful for the kindness and support. all the messages, reblogs, comments, tags, etc. kept my spirit alive, and i hope anything i’ve shared has given you some modicum of love, hope, home. let’s get to it!

— kithtaehyung 2024 wrapped 

total posts — art posts: 55 | gfx posts: 13 | fic posts: 8 total word counts — posted: 69,200 | written: 100,000+ total asks — answered: 1,442 | inbox: also a number😅 milestones — 3 years with 3tan | 2_,___ followers | crossing 7,000 3tan asks (ho ly shit lma oo ?? ?)

FIRST FIC OF 2024: broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (myg) ; 240209 ; 1,728 notes  

the current, most recent part of the main 3tan storyline. this one broke me, put me back together, then broke me again. the mental strain of writing both broken pt. 1 and broken pt. 2 was one of the main reasons why i had to take this long of a break. but we’ll be back to the main storyline in 2025! 

series notes: idr but it's a number!!!!

MOST POPULAR FIC OF 2024: minted: part one (myg) ; 240805 | 2,835 notes

was absolutely nervous to post this one because it’s incredibly different from the rest of “the ryenverse” as y’all call it, but the reception? holy crap! y’all are amazing and have been incredibly kind and supportive. i’m so glad we can all scream about gangster mint-haired yoongi together now.

series notes: 5,163 total | part two: 1,321 | part three: 1,007

LAST FIC OF 2024: holiday (3tan) (myg) ; 241227 ; 536 notes 

the yearning for these two was hurting us so badly that i spewed out a whole 8.1k in a week lmfao. hope it was able to lift some end of year/holiday spirits. 

2024 IN SONGS: HUH?! - agust d ft. j-hope | HISS - megan thee stallion | LOST! - rm | heart on the window - jin ft. wendy | NISSAN ALTIMA - doechii | overnight - connor price ft. tommy royale | tv off - kendrick lamar | sticky - tyler, the creator ft. glorilla, sexyy redd, lil wayne | too much - kid laroi, jung kook, central cee | woke up - xg

2024 IN FIC RECS: (it's a goal to read more in 2025 omg.. these are all the ones from friends i'll plug for now, and all the fics sent to the artist drop channel in our server!) éffleurer (ksj) - @sugaurora not yet (myg) & substance (knj) - @newmittens obsidian (myg) - @sailoryooons cyberslut (myg) - @kimnjss party on you (jhs) - @here2bbtstrash in motion (jjk) - @yoonia lover to lean on (pjm) - @sketchguk no strings (pjm) & the holi-date (kth) - @kpopfanfictrash moonlit throne (myg) - @hobidreams miracle of the season (jjk) - @cybrsan midnight (jjk) - @leahsfavefics crystallized (ksj, myg) - @floralseokjin server artist drops: friendcation (myg) - @kingofbodyrolls i will come to you (ksj) - @/kingofbodyrolls whalien52 (pjm) - @/kingofbodyrolls end of the world (myg) - @/kingofbodyrolls i'm not sure?! (pjm, kth, jjk) - @melancholy-of-nadia infatuation (myg) - @/melancholy-of-nadia love you lately (myg, knj, pjm) - @/melancholy-of-nadia too high (myg, jhs) - @ysljoon whirlwind (myg) - @/ysljoon midnight snacks (kth) - @xiumya the moon goddess's chosen (myg) - @army93bangya gods of the dark (myg) - @/sailoryooons need you to be sure (kth) - @yoongimain route 613 (knj, myg, vmin) - @daegudrama elemental (jjk) - @/kpopfanfictrash txt - a night out at the club - @jettithink risky business (jhs) - @jaysdimples what the moon saw (myg) - @violetsiren90

2025 PROJECTS: 

ot7 releases: release at least one fic or drabble for every member!

open source fic rec form: a form for both writers and readers to submit their fics or recs so we can all have a centralized list. 

3tan physical copies: get these babies out in the world! i know y’all have been wanting them so i’ll try.

3tan finale: finish out the main 3tan storyline. this is gonna destroy me in every way possible, but i think i can do it. we’ll make it through. 

what a damn year! dunno how we managed to do all of this in 2024 but i'm grateful y'all are still here or ventured through the blog at some point. thank you all again!

this was so late so I’m assuming i’m the last to do it, but if you see this and wanna consider yourself tagged then be my guest!

[the-fiction-witch]

Morning Maid

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty af

I hurried myself through the hospital corridors and stairwells finally finding myself at the second-floor room not bothering to knock, I never did and he never made me. Plus my hands where littered with the various items I would be needing this morning. I went inside shutting the door behind me and scampering inside the little room.

I set fresh towels and his clean laundry on the table close to the wardrobe, set his breakfast by the stove ready to cook in a moment, and I set his sheets next to his bedpost given his body still laid in his bed.

The room dark, his fluffy hair only just poking out the covers.

I brushed off my hands and set the stove to begin warming as I went to the window pulling open the curtains to let in the sweet morning sun.

"Ughurhmmm-" Mumbled from the bed with a shift and a wiggle he turned away to face the wall so the light bothered him less

"Dr Dawkins?" I cooed sweetly "Dr Dawkins?" I cooed a little louder but neither even garnered a response, So I went to the wardrobe put his clean clothes away and got him out some fresh ones for the day ahead, I poured him a fresh glass of water that I sat on his bedside table taking the one I poured last night away now empty of course. And I grabbed his coat from the door taking my duster and giving it a firm few wacks to knock the dirt out much as one does a old rug. "Dr Dawkins?" I called again a slight song to my voice "Dr Dawkins!" I called again but still no response came so I carried on taking yesterdays laundry to the door to take with me, making sure things where dusted and organized returning his book to its place, "Dr Dawkins!" I called loud enough it echoed in the room "Dr Dawkins!" I called and by some miracle! he rolled over back to face the room letting the sheets linger at his waist skin dewy from the heat

Well. He's alive I suppose.

I sighed and opened the window and leaning my arms on his metal bedframe,

"Dr Dawkins" I called

Nothing.

"Doctor there is an urgent emergency" I said

Nothing.

"Doctor the hospital is on fire!"

I think his nose twitched.... maybe.

"Doctor Dawkins a large huntsman spider is crawling up your leg."

he let out a breath

Holy shit he breathed!

"This is why no one else signs up for you in the morning you know. I'm the only one who wouldn't have bashed you over the head with a frying pan by now" I chuckled "Dr Dawkins a lady is here to see you and she says she's pregnant"

He wiggled! a little mostly just shifting himself a little

"Okay... Jack there's a gangster here about a poker debt!" I yelled

I mean.. he stirred. a little bit.

I rolled my eyes and got his toast setting his breakfast on the table looking at his sleeping body a moment trying to think of a way to do this that didn't involve a frying pan or ice cold water...

"Dr Dawkins a lady is here to see you and she says she's pregnant"

nothing. dead as the bodies downstairs, and then it occurred to me

"Alright, I guess Dr Dawkins really is sleeping soundly." I smiled "I suppose then he won't mind I take the air out of his nice second-floor window, as it is so very hot today" I giggled leaning on the bedpost again "Umm it's so hot I think I may remove my dress."

And the moment! the goddamn second! I uttered that word his eye flicked open

"Jack!" I yelled making him jump as he clearly wasn't expecting me to be leant on his bedpost

"You lied." he pouted sitting up and leaning against the wall

"I didn't lie. I simply failed to tell the truth."

"That's lying. By definition." he said "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Ohh you know always wanted to see the sights around the hospital" I joked "What do you think I'm doing here, waking you, you dunderhead." I laughed going to start on his breakfast first making some toast as it was the easiest and he liked it the coldest

"I do not require waking." he said "Flip the toast," he said

so I did so "Don't you? Because we both know if I hadn't you'd still be in that bed at the lords hour of half past four you had it your way"

"it's my day off."

"Your a doctor you don't get days off." I laughed putting the toast on the plate and grabbing an egg I brought with me "Sunny, over, scrambled, how'd you fancy them this morning?"

"I'm on call then" He answered "scrambled please but make them-"

"Dry as a bone. I know Jack." I giggled "You planning on getting out the bed at some point I have to take the sheets down to the laundry."

"After breakfast"

"Alright" I rolled my eyes playfully adding his eggs to his plate "You know none of the other girls will come up here."

"Am I truly that terrifying?" He joked having some water

"No. they simply find your... suggestions passive-aggressive and annoying" I explain

"my suggestions?"

"You're nitpicking Jack" I laughed getting the marmalade from my things and spreading it thin over his toast making sure to keep it separate from the eggs

"Nitpicking? That what they're calling it now." He laughed "And it doesn't bother you?"

"No, you like things a particular way nothing wrong with that. I have simply learnt your way. as it is your way or the highway as it were" I laughed taking it over sitting on his bed with him to hand over the plate which he grimaced at

"I wanted jam."

"Well, you have marmalade."

"Why?"

"Because I brought Marmalade. and no Jack I am not going all the way back down to the hospital kitchens to see if they have any jam. You get marmalade."

"No bacon?"

"We're out of bacon so you got extra toast"

"Did he. get the last of the bacon?"

"No, Marybell tried to take it to him, I told her it's not fair when we only have four rashers of bacon to give all four to one doctor and one to the others we argued, we fought and I ate the bacon. that solved the problem" I smiled giving his plate a gentle inviting shimmy

"Still missing something aren't we?"

I rolled my eyes a moment but gave him a sweet kiss which he happily pulled me closer into before taking his breakfast

"Thank you y/n"

"You're welcome you little wombat"

"Aww thank you" he smiled

"That was an insult Jack" I laughed

"Is it? you love wombats?"

"... be quiet and eat your toast," I told him to get up to clean and tidy up

"has it crossed your mind none of the other girls want to come work up her because they know it's your job"

"That's possible. Sure does seem like I've become your bloody maid" I sighed "Still I'd rather be here dealing with your nitpicking than cleaning up the head surgeons' drunken escapades or dealing with your colleague's slaps on the arse."

"So my slaps on the arse are better then?" He chuckled setting his plate on the side

"You're certainly gentler Jack" I laughed "Last time I was in there with him I swear he was trying to hump me every time I bent over"

"See I'm much easier, I'm considerate I save all our humping for dinner time."

"Only because your too tried to do it in the morning" I laughed giving him another kiss and all but kicking him out the bed so I could change his sheets "If you could find the energy we both know you would."

"... Possibly" he shrugs stretching and yawning as he wondered across to his wardrobe in only his underwear "I like after dinner, puts me right to sleep"

"Like you need any help in that department. Often times I'm half tempted to call one of the porters up to cart your body out convinced you've kicked it.”

“You are in a very grumpy mood today” he said as he dressed

“oh? Something I should find chipper and enfrawling about stripping your bed off?” I asked

“Your usually pretty excited about stripping me” he smirked as he snapped on his suspenders and I only glared back “ooohh… very grumpy girl today”

“Maybe I should go visit the other doctor” I joked

“Noo” he whines as he came behind me and wrapped his arms around me softly and gently “absolutely not I won't allow it”

“Oh why not?’ I giggled starting to make his bed with his fresh sheets

For a moment there was silence but he nuzzled close “your my girl.” He cooed and I couldn't help but smile it wasn't what he said but how he said it, so softly and kindly, so sweet and gently, not saying it in a possessive sort of way like he owned me like I belonged to him but that I was his and its so sweet that even something so shall as doing this routine for the other doctor would utterly not be allowed. “Besides we both know I can't sleep without you anymore” he smiled

“You where getting along just fine this morning?”

“Because your been cuddling me all night, It was residual sleep from the last night when you were here” he said turning me to Face him

“Umm I see, nothing to do with the French postcards you've been hiding under your mattress.”

Immediately colour drained from his face

“H- how do you know about that?’

“I make your bed. And clean your room. Just accept you don't have any secrets from me jack. And if you think you do. You don't.” I giggled

“You don't know all my secrets’ he smirked tugging me a little closer

“try me.”

“Go on then what secrets am I keeping?”

“The naughty french postcards your ‘hiding’ under your bed, the stash of toffees you have hidden inside your hollowed out poetry book, the pair of underwear you have hidden away because they are lucky for some reason, that time you kept a baby kolar in your room to you hid it from me, you didn't I knew I just didn't want to ask i assumed you were going through something” I explained and his eyes went wide

“Hu.”

“Shall I go on about how you sometimes sit backwards in the toilet for fun or the fact every time you have a bath you sing a little song”

“I really can't hide anything from you can I?’

“Nope” I giggled nuzzling into his shirt and he happily tightened his arms around me kissing my head “yes”

“What?”

“I also know about the ring you've been hiding in the store room the last six months.”

“Damn it. I really thought I hid that, so … is that a yes?”

“Yes. But it needs resizing slightly its a little big.” I smiled continuing will the bed

“you tried it on?”

“Several times. I get really bored around here sometimes” I shrug, he smiled and pulled me into a sweet loving kiss

“So, as I'm only a on call today? Shall we perhaps celebrate?’ he suggested glancing at the bed

“Jack, you couldn't have suggested that before I changed the bed. It's clean. And immediately you want to make it messy again”

“I'll change it again after if my lady wants me too”

“No, later I need to get this stuff down to laundry” I told him going and grabbing the laundry but before I even reached the door “ahhh! Jack put me down!” I whined as he picked me up and tossed me on his bed

“Laundry can wait” he smirked stroking my chin “I cannot.’ 

[centrally-unplanned]

Okay this obviously is very awful but also this is levels of insane video game villain I didn't think was possible:

Reports that a powerful Rio drug lord known for his extremist religious beliefs ordered Catholic churches near his stronghold to close have spooked worshipers and security experts and exposed the advent of a “narco-pentecostal” movement made up of heavily armed evangelical drug traffickers. Claims emerged in the Brazilian press over the weekend that Álvaro Malaquias Santa Rosa – a notorious gang boss known as Peixão (Big Fish) – had determined that three places of worship should shut down in and around the agglomeration of favelas that he controls in northern Rio. Since Peixão – whose nickname comes from the ichthys “Jesus” fish – took power in 2016 of five favelas that have become known as the Complexo de Israel, an allusion to the evangelical belief that the return of Jews to the Holy Land is a step towards the second coming of Christ and Armageddon. A neon Star of David has been erected at the top of the complex and at night can be seen for miles around – an unmissable symbol of Peixão’s force and his faith. The roofs of the favelas’ redbrick houses are dotted with blue and white Israel flags demarcating the territory the gangster controls.

"Narco-Pentecostal Evangelicalism" is not a phrase that should exist outside of a final boss in a Bioshock sequel, credit to Brazil for upping the stakes here - I guess I shouldn't be surprised given their track record like having a culture of US Confederacy escapees trucking along today.

[fruityyamenrunner]

Since Peixão – whose nickname comes from the ichthys “Jesus” fish – took power in 2016 of five favelas that have become known as the Complexo de Israel, an allusion to the evangelical belief that the return of Jews to the Holy Land is a step towards the second coming of Christ and Armageddon.

A neon Star of David has been erected at the top of the complex and at night can be seen for miles around – an unmissable symbol of Peixão’s force and his faith. The roofs of the favelas’ redbrick houses are dotted with blue and white Israel flags demarcating the territory the gangster controls. When police raided one of his hideouts in 2021 they found a swimming pool framed by a mural of the Temple Mount in the Old City of Jerusalem and the words: “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.”

In the past, Peixão’s troops have been accused of ransacking Afro-Brazilian temples and banning Afro-Brazilian celebrations in the Complex of Israel, where more than 100,000 people live. But this week’s reports were the first relating to Catholic places of worship.

[yanderedrabbles]

Hi, I love your drabbles. May I ask how would the yanderes react if the reader tries to escape or leave them?

'Til Death Do Us Part - yandere boys when you try and leave them

Yandere! Soldier is high strung and suspicious of everything. It just comes with the job. He isn't cruel, and he doesn't like hurting you, but if you make a run for it he won't hold back. Calloused hand crushing your windpipe as he drags you back, he'll remind you that nowhere in this godforsaken city is safer than with him. If he has to keep your hands tied for a few days, he will. Even if the ropes rub your skin raw. If your promise to behave, maybe he'll kiss it better.

Yandere! Cowboy is careful to always keep an eye on you. He ain't a fool - he knows that he frightens you. He knows you deserve a better man than him. But he's too selfish to let you go. He'll grab you jaw and glare at you with those coyote eyes. Whiskey and cigarettes on his breath as he pulls you up onto your tip toes and let's his lips just hover over yours. "Come hell or judgement, you ain't ever leavin' me. You got that sugar?"

Yandere! Boyfriend does not take it well when you tell him you want to take a break, that you need some space. He looks you dead in the eye and simply says, "No." He's the type to stand in front of the door and demand a detailed list of reasons you want to break up. And if he doesn't agree with them- and he never does - he simply will not accept things are over. If you insist on it and nothing he says can sway you, then you'll find out just how cozy he's made the basement.

Yandere! Cop's stalker persona is the exact thing he'll use to get you back into his arms. He knows the way you think, he knows the addresses of all your friends and family, he can track your bank purchases and card swipes. And on top of that, people are more than willing to talk to a cop about a poor, missing girl. And when he catches you, he'll make sure you're so terrified of your stalker that you'll never leave him, ever again.

Yandere! Gangster is helpless to stop you if you want to go anywhere without him. You're his boss afterall, and you'll put a bullet in his head the second he steps out of line. That doesn't stop him from begging to come with you. He's practically on his knees for you and looking every bit the kicked puppy. "Fine," you sigh, running your hands through his hair and letting your nails scrape against his neck, "But only if you promise to behave."

Yandere! Incubus feels his composure slipping the second you ask the abbot to let you leave for another abbey. He'll grab your arm and struggle to hide his claws, trying to reason with you. You're needed here, he'll remind you, and if the Holy Spirit guided you to this place, who are you to go against it? At night, he'll slip into your bed and trace his claws across your belly. He'll nip at your ear with his sharp, sharp teeth and hiss, "Whetever you go, I will always follow."

Yandere! Desert Bandit is the son of the dunes and sand. He knows every oasis, every well, every hidden mountain path. Even if you could make it out of his arms and past his men, the desert itself will lead him to you. He'll laugh when he finds you and boast to his men that his woman is smarter than them all, to have made it this far on her own. But when night comes, you'll find his grip tighter than ever before.

Yandere! Apocalypse Survivor knows you'll never leave him. The infected are terrifying and the other survivors are even worse. Still, he always keeps a close eye on you when you visit trading settlements - just because you won't leave, it doesn't mean someone else won't try and steal you for themselves.

[literary-motif]

MORE ELIAS NSFW… please I enjoy your work please

🥺

👉👈

Movie Night (NSFW)

Elias x Reader

“Oh my god, why are they going in there?” you asked, curling tighter around your blanket as the protagonists in the horror movie did something characteristically stupid. “They’re gonna die, Elias. I know it!”

Elias did not respond, eyes glued to the screen. He was expecting a jumpscare. He knew it was coming — the ominous music and dark TV screen very neatly leading up to it — but despite all the warnings, he could not tear his gaze away. 

You were not so enthralled, glancing away from the movie to study his expression. His jaw was clenched, his eyes wide, and you were sure fear was gleaming in them. “Are you scared?”

Just then, the antagonist jumped out of nowhere, tackling one of the leads to the ground. She screamed, and Elias startled so violently that some of the popcorn spilled over the edges of the bowl onto his lap. 

You tried to hide your chuckle. 

“That was not funny!” he said, scowling as he picked up the scattered popcorn pieces. “I don’t know how you’re not terrified right now. We’re sleeping with the lights on tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Come on, Elias,” you teased, nudging his shoulder. “What’s so scary about a vampire? I’m sure a lot of people find them rather appealing.”

“I don’t know how anybody could find these bloodsuckers appealing. I mean look. They can’t control their blood lust and will literally drain you to eat. I don’t like being hunted, and the knowledge that all their senses outmatch mine and not even my gun would stop them from killing me is terrifying.”

You rolled your eyes. “Good thing they’re not real then,” you said, popping some popcorn into your mouth. The admission of terror had broken whatever spell of toughness Elias had been adamant to maintain, and now that he knew you knew that he was scared, something told him that he no longer needed to keep up the act of indifference.

He cuddled closer to you, leaning into your side with his cheek squished against your shoulder. The bowl of popcorn was still in his lap, but he snuck both arms around your middle to cling to you as another scary scene approached. He turned his head, sinking further under the blanket as he pressed his face against you and glanced at the television, curious about what would happen next but equally scared of it. 

You smiled faintly, tangling your fingers in his hair and running through it soothingly. “It’s not real, you know,” you whispered, feeling his heart beating painfully hard against your side. “But even if it were, I would protect you from all the vampires of this world, my little star.”

“I’m the gangster here!”

“That’s right, but I can spike their drink with holy water and they’ll disintegrate before you can even search for a wooden stake to pierce their heart.”

He mumbled something intelligible, squeezing you tighter as the vampire eliminated another member of the main cast. 

“What was that?” you asked, leaning your cheek against his head and playing with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I said I liked the nickname,” Elias admitted quietly, hiding behind your shoulder as his favorite character succumbed to the vampire’s compulsion. You chuckled, placing a kiss against the top of his head. 

You held him tightly, occasionally munching on the popcorn as the last character of the original quartet pulled down the curtain of the large window in the hallway, and the vampire lit up in flames. 

“Are you still afraid?” you asked, looking at Elias hesitating in the doorway of the bedroom. The light was still on. 

He averted his gaze, his cheeks a tint of pink at this embarrassment. He had never been afraid of the dark. He loved the night and all the beautiful stars it made visible — but tonight, what might lurk in the darkness made his heartbeat quicken uncomfortably. 

“Can we—?” he began, his pride choking him. He could not finish the sentence, but you understood regardless. 

Wordlessly, you clicked on the bedside lamp. “Is this enough?” 

He nodded, turning off the harsh lighting and crawling into bed beside you, the room now dimly lit. Elias snuggled into your side, wrapping an arm around your chest and burying his head in your shoulder. There was a creeping terror within him as if something sinister — a vampire — was lurking in every corner, hidden by every shadow, only waiting to catch him off guard. 

It was silly. He knew that, but fear did not listen to rationality. 

“Are you still afraid, my little star?” you asked, glancing at him. Elias pouted, pulling the covers over his head to hide from the world. You had to suppress a chuckle at his childishness. “Hey, want me to take your mind off of vampires?”

The comforter moved, Elias’ scowl poking out from beneath it to look at you, waiting for your proposition. You smirked, reaching out a hand to brush your thumb over his bottom lip. His eyes widened in understanding.

“Your lips look very kissable,” you stated. 

He was on you in an instant, leaving the comforter to bury his hands in your hair as he connected his lips with yours. Elias was never one to pass up an opportunity to taste you — touch you — no matter the circumstances. You looped your arms around his neck, allowing him to set the pace as you sunk into the soft pillows, melting under his touch.  

“Your lips are salty,” he murmured, giving you another chaste kiss to reexamine his claim. “Salty and sweet.”

“Popcorn,” you answered, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. His kisses left you breathless, aching for more as his lips trailed over your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your throat before traveling to your cleavage. 

You could feel him rubbing against you, his cock hardening more with every inch of skin he kissed — his mind already conjuring up images of your arching back when he thrust into you just right, the sound of your breathy moans spurring him on to make you feel good. He could not believe how lucky he was to have you. 

“May I?” he asked, hands stopping at the waistband of your pyamas. The top had ridden up, and you shivered at his soft touches over the exposed skin of your stomach. 

You nodded eagerly, spreading your legs for him after he pulled them off. 

“Wow,” he breathed, mouth watering at the sight of you. This was not the first time he had seen you like this — far from it — but you stole his breath every time regardless. He would never get used to the way you looked, aching for him. “You’re so gorgeous.”

The comment made you smile, triumphant in this method of distraction from the fear the movie had instilled in him. You wiggled your hips, watching with mirth as his eyes followed your every movement, his cock straining against his pants. 

“Shit, why are you always this pretty?” he groaned, palming himself as his eyes fixed on you. “I can’t wait to be inside you, babe. Can I? God, can I?”

His words made you shiver, already imagining yourself stretching around his cock. You needed him just as bad, the eagerness you could hear in Elias’ little pants as he continued riling himself up reflected in your expression. “Please, yes,”you said, a yelp escaping you as he set his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs more. 

“You’re ready for me, yeah?” he asked, pulling down his pants and boxers to free his cock. He was painfully hard, already leaking from the thought of you clenching around him. Elias positioned himself, kneeling before you as he teased your entrance with his cock. 

Your eyes were squeezed shut, savoring the blissful torture as you fisted the bed sheets. “Elias, please,” you whined, rocking your hips to grind on his cock, impatient for him to enter you. 

“Look at me,” he demanded softly, making your eyes flutter. “I want to look into your eyes when I— ahh—” he moaned, sheathing himself into your warm heat. Your eyes rolled back, your face twisted in an expression of ecstasy as you felt him stretch you out. “When I sink inside,” he finished, taking a moment to ground himself before leaning forward to kiss you again. 

You threw your arms around his neck, losing yourself in the feeling of being joined together like this. Slowly, you began to grind your hips, wordlessly encouraging him to move. 

Elias caught on to it immediately, bracing himself against the mattress as he began thrusting into you. It was divine, feeling his pace pick up as he succumbed to the pleasure. You wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your heels into his lower back and making him go even deeper as his thrusts picked up in intensity. 

Every roll of his hips made you bounce, your thoughts and breath slowly slipping away until all you could do was pant and moan and wonder absentmindedly which parts of your insides were getting bruised by his cock slamming into them deliciously. 

“Take me— so well,” he said, placing a hand on your waist to pull you back onto his cock, making your toes curl as the pleasure coiling in your lower stomach climbed to its high. “So fucking— mhm— so good— ah!”

You could feel him twitching inside you. Your hold on him tightened as you clenched around him, coming undone with a cry of his name. He wrapped his arms around your chest, clinging to you tightly as he went over the edge, his face buried in your shoulder to muffle his moans. 

You were still trembling, thighs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Something told you that there would be an ache deep inside you that made walking a little uncomfortable tomorrow, but that thought felt far away as you brushed Elias’ black strands from his slick-covered forehead. 

“Do you want to take a bath?” you asked, ignoring the gentle pull of your eyelids that beckoned you to sleep. 

Elias still had you gathered in his arms. “Yeah,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder delicately. “I’ll run it in a minute. Just let me hold you for a while longer.”

[starkenobi]

Dracarys | Tony Stark x fem!reader

masterlist — warnings: mcu; drabble; fluff.

Summary: A little adventure with the science bros. [same universe of Draw me like one of your french girls and menace]

“Holy shit, we need to go now.”

Y/N knew that she shouldn’t have agreed on going to Bangkok. Unfortunately, she thought that everything would be fine because Bruce was going too. He was the responsible one between their little group. Well, she was wrong. So damn wrong. The plan for the night was to rest after a long day of lectures and reunions at the scientific convention. And Y/N was naive to think that it would really happen.

Oh no, her reality was the complete opposite: going to a crazy party with a bunch of nerds, Bruce getting his ass drunk after drinking with others nerds and accidentally bumping into a stupid mafia boss' girlfriend.

Quickly on her feet, Y/N took Tony's hand and grabbed Bruce by his shirt, forcing them to run through the busy streets of Bangkok to escape the upcoming fight.

While running, she couldn't stop thinking about how she should be in a delicious bubble bath, maybe drinking some wine and reading a book, or even making out with Tony if she was feeling frisk. But no, there she was surrounded by too many gangsters.

They were screwed.

“I'm not feeling good.” Bruce groaned, trying to escape from her hold, but one look at Y/N's serious expression, and he sat down on the floor with his arms crossed over his stomach.

“Stay down, cutie. No green for you." Y/N ordered, her mind already calculating and making a good but hard escape plan. “Okay, I don’t have my weapons and can't use my powers here, but I have my kungfu. So I’ll distract them. Tony, honey, get Bruce out of here, okay?”

Not hearing an answer, Y/N turned to look at Tony, but he wasn’t by her side anymore. Y/N panicked for a second before she heard a scared scream on her left. Tony was dressed in his nice suit, holding in one hand a wood stick with the tip on fire, and in the other, the whiskey bottle he bought from the bar. Y/N frowned. What the fuck Tony was thinking?

And then she saw him drinking the whiskey before fire breathing in the gangsters. Y/N really wanted to kiss that man. Unfortunately, she had to concentrate on beating the others to get over with all that shit.

“It was a hot magic trick." Tony said, sitting dutifully while Y/N focused on taking care of his wounds.

"We can use it at the parties." Clint chimed in, happy to be the one chosen to rescue the trio.

“Oh, yeah! By the way, Bruce thought Tony was a dragon.” Y/N said, trying but failing to hold her laugh.

“What? Don’t tell me that Bruce called you that.” Clint chuckled, throwing a pillow at Bruce, almost asleep again on the sofa, making him grumble in disapproval.

“No, he did something even better.” Tony answered calmly, holding Y/N's hands and kissing her lips tenderly after she finished patching him up.

“Straight to the point.” Clint urged in anticipation.

“He kept yelling dracarys.”

comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading and supporting my writing 💜

note: english isn’t my first language, and i don't mind if you call me inbox or dm to point out errors or typos. but please be kind!

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

The gang + Tim & Curly dealing with a dark feminine lady who is oblivious to the fact she’s so seductive

<3

Ofccccc pookie

Ponyboy Curtis

-he gets so flustered by you

-with your low, sultry voice

-seriously you could ask him what time it is and he’d be like 🥵🥵🥵🥵

-and your dark but not quite gothic, feminine outfits

-he doesn’t know many other people like you

-he feels so immature next to you

-but you have a crazy ability to make him feel things he’s never felt before

-memorized different things about you

-he asked you out with your favorite kind of chocolate and you said yes

-super cute together

Johnny Cade

-whoa

-you’re like… his dream

-he’s really attracted to you

-he thinks about you a lot, especially late at night in the lot

-he never has enough courage to go up to you and do anything about it tho

-if you ever talk to him in school he’d be so quiet while internally screaming

-one day you see him with a black eye

-you put a delicate hand on his cheek, making sure he’s ok

-he never really got fully over that

-definitely touched his own cheek after you let go like wow

-until one day dally mentions you and Johnnycake

-well

-he gets a bit defensive

-which is when dallys like you like her don’t you

-and Johnny doesn’t answer, only the tips of his ears turning red

-so dally literally pushes him towards you

-and he finally asks you out, and you say yes

-you guys are so in love with eachother

Sodapop Curtis

-he sees you walk into the DX one day

-he’s immediately interested

-I mean,it’s not every day he sees a girl like you

-you have this certain confidence

-a suggestive smirk and perfect eyeliner

-it’s attractive to say the least

-before long he asks you out

-yall are cute though

-red rose x sunflower vibes from you both

Darry Curtis

-he sees you walking by the house

-fully pops his head out the window to get a better look

-hot damn

-you’re on his level

-I mean, he’s very attracted to you

-he started asking around about you and no one seemed quite to know much

-so he went up to you and found out for himself

-and even talking to you made his knees weak, you so effortlessly came off as seductive

-after a while you two become close friends and before long

-he asks you out and you ofc say yes

-very cute couple 10/10 you’re both very mature and supportive of eachother

-ponyboy would have a crush on you tho lowkey 💀

Dallas Winston

-holy shit

-it’s not often he sees someone like you around

-you two definitely met whenever he harassed you on the street

-you simply cross your arms, and turn to him with a coolly neutral stare

-“Talk like that again to me and I’ll cut off your most valuable asset.” You’d snarl, walking away

-and leaving him with a smirk on his face, but he stops making the remarks

-over time he asks you out and you eventually say yes after several rejections

-but you two are a good couple

-pretty scary to run into though

Two Bit Mathews

-he sees you and

-you honestly seem so… grounded it’s hard to make jokes about you

-but he somehow manages

-but whenever you let out that low chuckle in response to his stupid jokes

-oh girl you don’t even know what you’re doing to him 💀😭💅

-that’s when he realizes like oh my lord he has some feelings for you

-when you two end up dating

-you make an amazing couple

-you keep him grounded, and calm and he keeps you laughing and having fun

Steve Randle

-he didn’t even think you realized

-what you were doing

-leaning against that car in that low cut, short dress

- you raised your eyebrows

-and he realized he’d been staring for a solid five minutes

-he’s dumbstruck by you

-your car had broken down and he was helping you fix it

-when it was done you simply said “Thanks, handsome.”

-and tipped him quite well

-after a while of friendly banter you two get pretty flirty

-end up making out in your car

-then dating

-super cute together 🫶

Tim Shepard

-it’s giving mobster/gangster wife tbh

-he was in love with you as soon as he saw you

-seducing eyes, a charming nature, cunning… never hot headed but always aware

-you were absolutely gorgeous

-and you make his knees weak in a way that most people aren’t able to

-with the most everyday things

-you’d also make an amazing trophy wife

-but you were so much more

-clever, you knew how to get anyone down on their knees in less than a minute

-he knew you’d be a valuable ass…. Asset to him

-you guys are a power couple fr

-he catcalled you when he met you like Dally 💀💀

Curly Shepard

-you both clash

-you were seductive, dark, mature, with deep eyes and a sharp look that could kill

-him…. Well he was a reckless punk

-you two ran in the same circles though

-and became quite good friends

-you kept him out of a lot of situations

-and looked good doing it too

-he doesn’t think you realize how crazy you drive him

-even just looking at him, biting your lip whenever you patch him up in concentration

-he checks you out when he thinks you aren’t looking

-you’ve known this entire time

-and whenever you confronted him about it you two end up making out

-the rest is history

[haggishlyhagging]

Images of blood are all around us, everywhere in our modern, urbanized society blood is depicted, spoken of, displayed: the blood of wound, of death and to a lesser extent birth is part of daily viewing in television and films; we are completely familiar with the bloodlines of kinship, and with the blood of violence, of murder and vengeance, of sacrifice, suffering, and of IV drug users; the blood of warning, of wounding, of threat; the danger attached to the blood of AIDS; the blood of life, of transfusions, and of redemption; the blood of Christ; the blood of martyrdom, of St. Sebastian, of the prize fighter depicted in the movies. Blood is genealogy in bloodlines, family blood, the blood that is thicker than water. Blood is in name and in common expression, in the blood of the lamb, in the blood of blood, sweat, and tears, in the blood of the Sangre de Christo Mountains, in the blood of blood brothers, the blood of the stigmata, the blood on the moon, the blood that cannot be squeezed from turnips, the blood dripping from the mouth of the vampire, the bloodstain on Lady Macbeth's hands, the blood gurgling down the shower drain in horror films. Real blood is everywhere in our society, Saturday-night blood, drive-by-shooting blood, the blood he was covered in after he was shot, or stabbed, or blown up; the pencil thin line like a necklace across her throat, the great spread of it when she was chopped up, the bloody nose, the bleeding ulcer, the sting of hemmorrhoids, the blood on the surgeon's gown and the butcher's apron, the many rivers of battle and massacre that have run with blood, the battlefield soaked, the sand reddened, the blood on the child's ear and the wife's mouth and the young man's cheek. In the cities the gutters are streaming and sidewalks pooled and car seats puddled and emergency rooms smeared and police clubs stained. When gangster John Dillinger's body fell on the street, shot by the FBI and spouting from numerous holes, passersby instantly leaped as though to a holy stream, to dip a handkerchief, newspaper, even a sleeve, into the blood of his wounds, to take a bit home with them. Blood is magic, blood is holy, and wholly riveting of our attention.

Menstrual blood is the only source of blood that is not traumatically induced. Yet in modern society, this is the most hidden blood, the one so rarely spoken of and almost never seen, except privately by women, who shut themselves in a little room to quickly and in many cases disgustedly change their pads and tampons, wrapping the bloodied cotton so it won't be seen by others, wrinkling their faces at the odor, flushing or hiding the evidence away. Blood is everywhere, and yet the one, the only, the single name it has not publicly had for many centuries, is menstrual blood. Menstrual blood, like water, just flows. Its fountain existed long before knives or flint; menstruation is the original source of blood.

Menstrual is blood's secret name. All blood is menstrual blood.

-Judy Grahn, Blood, Bread, and Roses: How Menstruation Created the World