toes on tile

The Five Times Bucky Picks You

Word Count: 2,084

Warnings: None.

A/N: Something quick I whipped up because my brain is too tired to write any series. Enjoy :D 

Originally posted by duckybarness

The first time Bucky picks you, you’re sitting at your dining room table, biology book opened as you try to draw a diagram of a plant cell. You have a half-eaten sandwich sitting on your plate beside the book and you take a bit, absently chewing as you frown at your paper. The proportions are all wrong and these are just notes, they shouldn’t be something you worry about, but here you are, erasing the cell wall for the fifth time and trying to be accurate this time around.

Being in honors classes, you’re pressured to do your best and graduate top of your eighth-grade class. Your parents beam with pride when they tell their friends that you’re doing so well in school, and you want to keep them looking that way for as long as you can.

There’s a knock to your door and your mom calls out your name. “Bucky’s here!” she says.

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part two

He’s a thinker, a planner, and a philosopher, dissecting life and the world’s inhabitants. He likes to study the girl in his Potions period. She always wraps her hair into a tight bun, never quite catching each strand or curl. Her eyebrows never seem void of emotion, constantly expressing each thought or concern. He likes to watch her think. She does this thing, licking a stripe along her bottom lip, then quickly sucking the plump, pink flesh into her mouth. She doesn’t intend to give him a raging hard-on, but then again, she doesn’t even know he exists. He’s like a ghost to her. Constantly watching. Constantly waiting for attention, yet never being seen, never being realized, never being noted. He has a ‘shrine,’ as Zabini calls it. Its nothing much, just a box of things significant to them her himself. She dropped a quill in a hurry towards lunch; he meant to give it back, but never felt the urge to separate himself from a thing she touched, used, cared for. He wants her to touch him. He wants her to use him. If she only cared- then the world would be perfect.
Everyone has a way to deal with things. Theodore swims in the Black Lake when he’s stressed. On a cold day, when the wind shouts and the moon beams, he floats along the water’s edge, staring into black nothingness, the chill of the liquid plunging into his bones. No one gets why he does it, but Draco suspects he finds some sort of peace, knowing that the cold and dark feeling is his choice. Pansy’s a whore and everyone knows it. She’ll spread her legs for anyone that calls her pretty. She once said, drunk and insecure, that sex was an escape from feeling emotionally raped. He’s never judged her since. Blaise, perhaps, is the most sane of the three. He sings in the shower. Sure, to other houses, it might seem mundane, but to Zabini, its something else entirely. He’s quiet. That’s all he is, really. He’s the quiet, winter chill no one can touch. He only even responds to three other people in the castle, simply because they’re the only ones who won’t shriek in fear. Even with Malfoy, he barely laughs. The only time Draco ever saw him gasp for air from a joke is when Theo peed on himself at the beach. Yet, when everyone has left quidditch practice, and he thinks he’s alone, by himself, Blaise will casually hum a Sinatra tune, soon expanding into a full belt. He actually has a nice voice, from what Draco’s heard. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if Blaise pursued in the art, behind closed doors, of course. However, floating in the abyss, drowning in sex, and singing into an empty loo didn’t really scream Draco. He found an alternative.

Dearest Y/n,

You don’t know me. I don’t quite know you. 
You see, I don’t even know your middle name. I don’t know if you like the colour blue, or if you’ve ever been stung by a bee. Yet, I know that when you’re feeling sad, you pick at your fingernails and get an unbelievably adorable pout. I know that when you’re happy, you click your toes along the tile floor and crinkle your nose like a bunny rabbit. I know that you’re grossed out by frog legs, and that you hate being partnered with Anthony Goldstein. 
I realize this all must be a bit odd, and even creepy, so I’ll tell you some things about me. When I’m upset, I close my eyes, and imagine you and myself dancing in a field of violets. You’re dressed in a pretty, white sundress, your hair soaked wet from our day in the ocean. The sun is drying us, and for once in my day, I smile, imagining what life would be like if you were mine. When I’m happy, I write. I write to you, telling you about my day. I tell myself you’ll read this letter, and that you actually care about how my existence. I’m grossed out by messy eaters, and I positively hate cockroaches. 
I believe you have the right to know I’m in love with you. I understand how hard it must be to understand. But, please know that I believe you’re beautiful perfection everything. You’re my Aphrodite, my Cleopatra, my Victoria. I feel like I’m flying with angel wings when you bump into me while reaching for an ingredient and I can feel my heart leap into my throat whenever I hear your voice. I know this is what love feels like, and I just think you should know.

Best Regards,
Draco L. Malfoy

Four of these were made per day. He would vent about how stupidly Gryffindors acted, or if Trelawney assigned a project over the weekend. At night, he’d dream of Italian honeymoons and promiscuous rendezvous in the Prefect’s bathroom. However, on a particularly gloomy, Friday afternoon in February, he was interrupted abruptly from a smutty letter on the fourteenth.

Dearest Y/n,

It is finally the fourteenth of February. Saint Valentine has separated a day from the year where couples and singles and friends and enemies can come together, spreading the sheer joy of love. I absolutely despise it. I’ve never been anyone’s Valentine, but I think I could be a good candidate. I know that if you were mine, I’d lavish you in chocolates and diamonds. I’d enchant the Room of Requirement to become a lover’s paradise, complete with a lofty bed. I’d spread you onto the silky, pink sheets, kissing your neck and ravishing your skin. I’d watch your lips pucker with a choked moan, rutting into the mattress as you claw my back. Slowly, I’d lift your delicate dress, trailing my hand up your-

WHAT?!’ Blaise huffed, throwing a book towards Draco’s head. ‘We have a Charms exam Monday, and I am not allowing you to waste the weekend studying when we could finish it all right now.’ He took one look at the undignified paper before willing away his erection, and marching out the dormitory with a slam. He really hated it when Blaise was right.
Macbeth, the Malfoy family owl, was making a round trip to Draco for the holiday. His mother delivered a fresh box of sweets, to ‘get through the lonely times,’ while his father restocked his Gringotts account. However, the eagle-owl spotted a letter on the desk of Master Malfoy, along with a heady stack of signed and stamped messages. Hooting towards Theo, the boy smiled, lazily, slipping into his pajamas. ‘Hey, there, Oh Great Ruler, Macbeth.’ The owl nearly smiled, landing onto the shoulder of its companion. ‘How’ve you been, you elusive thing? Good, I hope.’ Snatching a rat’s tale from his satchel, he threw it into Macbeth’s mouth, smiling as the bird happily nibbled on its treat. Theo jerked his thumb towards the letters, almost smirking. ‘Can you believe he’s been writing telegrams to Y/n L/n for nearly two years and has yet to say hello? All he really needs is a nudge-WAIT!’ The bird swooped down to the desk, swiftly picking up a dozen letters, including the dirty passage he had yet to finish. Theo was already a dead man.

a/n- part II or nah

mino; in every lifetime

Originally posted by choiseunghyunn

Based on a prompt for a Soulmate! AU: The last words you’ll ever hear them say are written on your skin, meaning that you’ll never know who your soulmate is until you lose them.

Sidenote: Angst, scenario of 3.2k words. 

They weren’t childhood friends, high school sweethearts or anything like that.   

“I wish I met you sooner.” he’d say, prompting a walk down memory lane of the first time they met –her favourite story out of the infinite they shared.

It was the July that fell on her last semester of college, a night that was never supposed to be but of thesis revisions and brain wrecking flash cards for finals that were just around the corner.  

“Oh have a bit of fun!” her friends disapproving her safe choice of plans, practically dragging her out through the dorm’s hallways in a midst of hushed giggles and careful footsteps.

She liked to think that she was socially acceptable for pretentious-frat-boy hosted parties and they weren’t all that bad if she managed to keep up with her group of friends, with the aid of a cup of cheap beer, or two. However, it wasn’t what she had in mind when they pulled over a beach house, already crowded by muddy four wheelers and huge SUVs parked by the vast perimeter of the property.

Her curiosity, spluttered out as a series of worried questions were dodged away by, “He’s our senior, remember? Of course you don’t. We’re all invited, now stop worrying will you please.”

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thetourguidebarbie  asked:

"both of us are trying out for the same chaser spot on the quidditch team and once it's clear we're the best there by far we start doing progressively crazier stunts to outdo each other" au

This went way off from the prompt! I have such a hard time with high school age sexy times, hence why they’re not in school.

No Time For Common Sense

Caroline’s limping when she makes her way out of the shower stall, her flip flops slapping loudly on the tile floors. The locker room is quiet since the other women trying out for the team had been quicker than she was. She liked them all, which was a bonus. They’d made plans to get together for brunch over the weekend, to compare notes about their tryout experiences.

She’d heard them file out a half hour ago, talking and giggling, while Caroline had still been wincing through shampooing her hair. Her left side feels like one continuous bruise and her knee is screaming bloody murder courtesy of a rough landing. She’d barely managed to pull out of a spin before crashing into the ground, had been thrown from her broom and hit the grass in a roll.

At least she’d managed to keep a hold of the quaffle.

That seemed like a small victory now that Caroline can barely bend her leg but she’d take it. Stairs are going to be a bitch tomorrow. She’s dreading the lecture she’s going to get when she drags herself to Bonnie, one of Caroline’s oldest friends and current mediwitch in training, to get it looked at.

It’s nothing she hasn’t dealt with before over the last few weeks. Tryouts for the New Orleans team are notoriously brutal, sabotage not uncommon. There was one chaser spot open this year and Caroline was determined to get it but she wasn’t the only one gunning for the position. She’d already made it through two cuts and there was only one other person left in the running. The worst possible person.

In addition to being a giant pain in the ass Kol Mikaelson was also the brother of the team’s captain which was why Caroline was pushing herself, and her body, to such extremes. She knew she was better than Kol, that she would work harder. She only had to convince Klaus.

And she would.

A throat clears, startling her, and Caroline hand flies to the knotted towel at her chest, checking it’s secure. Her jaw drops for a moment when she sees Klaus lounging on one of the benches, looking perfectly at ease despite the humidity, the tendrils of steam floating around the room. “Can’t you read?” Caroline hisses before she can even think about reconsidering. “This is the women’s locker room.”

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Coming Home x Soldier!Ashton

“(Y/N), why are you sitting alone?”

His broad stature was almost overwhelming as it stood over your own. He was intimidating in general although it was now as if your anxiety skyrocketed.

It was odd to be intimidated by him though as you’d known him for years, just never had you witnessed him like this.

He’d always been Ashton, little old Ashton Irwin with the gleaming hazel eyes and the floppy curls; the boy who you spent years with, the one who became your best friend.

Yet as he stood over you he was no longer just that boy who was two years ahead. He was no longer the neighbor boy that you met because mom had invited him over for dinner; he was a man, a respectable, all too changed one.

He’d turned out to be what no one had ever expected, leaving the second he’d graduated for basic training, returning home six months later for a mere two weeks. But after a year away since that short visit, he’d finally returned home to Australia, being greatly missed by everyone in town.

“I- , um- I can’t believe you’re here,” you muttered, throwing the napkin from your lap onto the floor, jumping to your feet, “You weren’t supposed to be here until the end of the month-”

It still hadn’t processed; Ashton was in the flesh, standing in front of you, blue fatigues and all.

“I couldn’t miss this moment, I made you a promise that’d I’d be here to dance with you, and I am.”

You couldn’t help but to tear up at his words. He was truly unbelievable.

“Ashton, I don’t know what to say,” you managed to muffle through the tears, his eyes trained on my own.

“Don’t say anything, just accept my apology that I couldn’t be here sooner, and that I couldn’t really coordinate with your dress,” he shrugged, grasping onto my hand only to pull me away from the small circular table, “You look beautiful by the way, I didn’t expect you to clean up so well.”

“Irwin, shut up and hug me, you haven’t even been home for five minutes and you’re already harassing me,” you sighed, looking down to the tan boots on his feet.

“Are those steel toed?”

“Yes- but wh-”

“Good,” you smiled, slipping off my heels, placing the balls of your feet on the rather grimy fabric. Arms extended toward his waist, you rested your head on his chest, “I never realized how much I’d miss you until you were gone.”

“Aww, did you just admit to me that you missed my presence, my best friend missed me while I was overseas?” His tone reeked of mockery prompting my quick yet weak rebuttal.

“Of course I did you loser, how could I not? I just can’t believe you were gone for so long, and I can’t believe you’re here with me now Ash.”

“That’s Leading Aircraftman to you,” he smirked. He was beaming with pride, well deserved gratification.

Everyone was proud of Ashton, some more so than others and you were at the top of that list.

“Did you miss me Leading Aircraftman?” you questioned, lightly running my finger over the insignia on his sleeve.

“Why else would I be here at your prom, straight off my plane back to the base?”

“Because you promised to take me to prom if I didn’t have a date, a promise you made when I was still naive, in Year 10,” you shrugged, moving my arms up around his neck.

“And I don’t break my promises, do I?”

“You never have and you hopefully never will Irwin.”

“That’s what best friends are for, I’ve always been here,” he paused, lightly pressing his lips to my forehead, “And some things never change.”

“But some do,” you chuckled, a hand tracing over the stubble on his face, “I like this, this should stay. But I must say, I miss the long hair.”

It wasn’t as bad as you’d anticipated, Ashton didn’t come back with the standard military buzz cut. He had what was a sort of undercut, few of his smaller curls still resting at the top. He didn’t look bad it was just peculiar for him.

“They didn’t quite appreciate the man bun,” he smiled, the one thing you’d missed seeing the most, “And I’m over that straightening phase.”

“That’s a shame,” you joked, “But sometimes change is needed.”

“Don’t you dare act like I’m the only one that changed in that time. You actually have a figure now,” he prodded, his hands squeezing at yourwaist, “Like you have a butt now, I’m surprised I’m not beating the guys off from you at this point.”

“Always a charmer, Irwin,” you sighed, rolling your eyes at his choice of words though still refusing to let him go.

You never wanted to let him go, and if it had been your choice, he never would’ve left in the first place.

It was selfish, you were selfish but he’d missed so much. It’d been almost two years without him, two years without a shoulder to cry on, almost two years without any sort of hope other than the occasional call and the many letters you’d received.

But now he was here and you were in his arms, having the dance you’d waited for since his senior prom.

“Why don’t you put your shoes back on, then I can whisk you away to the dance floor,” he suggested, looking down at your feet that still stood on his own.

“Or we could just dance like this,” you shrugged, steeping off from his toes onto the surprisingly cold tile.

“Do you want me to help you,” he groaned, looking down at me as you struggled to slip your swollen feet into the nude pumps.

“I would have you help but it will be pretty embarrassing since the shoe won’t fit right now,” you sighed, leaning onto Ashton for support.

“You know everyone can’t have that perfect Cinderella story (Y/N), and I may not be your night in shining armor but-”

“But you’re my best friend and your here, my knight in blue fatigues,” you gushed in response.

His hands steadied your frame as you stood up straight once again, “Can you walk in those Hun?”

“Shut up Irwin and let’s dance, they’re only going to play a few more slow songs,” you began only to hear the soft lyrics flooding through the speakers.

Ashton hummed along, his hand making its way to the small of your back.

“Thank you so much for being here,” you muttered. Your hands made way to their former place at the back of his neck, as you glanced directly into his hazel eyes that glimmered under the soft lights of the venue.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he finally admitted, as you made your way across the floor.

It was like time stopped as you reached the center, not a single soul seemed to be focused anything. It was just the two of you, in your dysfunctional friendship that had lasted longer than you’d ever imagined.

“Is it okay if I don’t let go of you Ash?”

“(Y/N), what do you mean,” he challenged.

“I just don’t want you to leave me again, it was too hard without you here, way too hard.”

His hand moved up to the side of your face, tucking the loose hair that’d fallen back behind your ear, “Do you realize that what happened the night before I left made my departure so much more difficult? It was like I left a piece of me here and I couldn’t wait to return.”

“But you’re here now, so that’s what we should focus on,” you blushed, “And you made my coming to prom worth it.”

It had been like pulling teeth for your mom to get you to purchase that ticket and more so the dress. You thought it was pointless, but now you understood why she’d made such a big deal out of it, she knew Ash was coming home and just neglected to share that information.

“That was all the plan, I didn’t want you to have to waste the night,” he finally replied, “And it gave me an excuse to take leave,” he shrugged, “But I’ll have to go back in three weeks so I don’t use all of my time.”

“For how long, Ash, please don’t say another two years -”

“That’s what I wanted to discuss, it’ll only be for a month and our campaign will be over. Then I’ll just have to go to our base.”

Only one month, 31 long days, although it couldn’t even hold comparison to the previous 18 months.

“Will you still write to me?”

“Of course I will,” he smiled, pulling your body even closer to his.

He began to hum once again, his soft tone was beyond comforting as it always had been.

“I missed your singing,” you laughed lightly, thinking of the countless times you'dwent to visit him after school only to find him belting his little heart out as he busied himself around his house.

“You love it, don’t deny it,” he continued, stopping rather abruptly to finish the song.

“Whatever you say, Ash, don’t get too cocky,” you groaned.

“I won’t, but I say we ditch this place after the next slow song and have one of our infamous sleepovers.”

“Just because you came home from overseas, you think you can already make your way into my bed?” You challenged, struggling to suppress the smirk on my lips.

Placing another soft kiss on my forehead, he pulled away insisting, “Chivalry isn’t dead (Y/N), I’d take you for ice cream first.”

“You’re the best Ash, we can leave right this instant because I’d like to change before you fufill that chivalrous act.”

“One more dance, just one more,” he smiled as the bass overwhelmed the room, “Maybe even this one,” he smirked as he recognized the lyrics of The Weeknd.

“Really Ashton, you’re still that pervy teenage boy that I managed to befriend?”

“Oh you love it and you’re the same way,” he smirked, “And give me some credit, I haven’t had physical contact with a girl since that first time home. I could be all over every girl in this place but I wouldn’t want to come off as a pig.”

You groaned as Ashton pulled you back onto the floor of handsy teenagers, the two of us quickly becoming additional ones.

As his hands made their way to your hips, you couldn’t help but to smile, “You definitely owe me that ice cream, especially after putting me through this.”

birthday | alfie solomons/reader

@ateliefloresdaprimavera requested alfie and the kids being cute to reader on her birthday with ‘how did you meet?’ story time

also ties the ‘fáilte abhaile’ verse to ‘the other one’ and ‘the peace process

You woke to a crash in the hallway and flung yourself up in the bed, reaching across to the cabinet to fish the gun out of the drawer. You stilled when you heard the kids laughing and let your fingers uncurl.


“Shit, shhh. Stay there!”

“What’s happening?”

You scooted closer to the edge of the bed, listening carefully.

“Just stay in bed!”


He popped his head around the door and you went to rise.

“No, bed, stay”

“I’m not the fucking dog – what’s happening out there?”

“We uhh” he popped his head back round the door to shush the kids as they laughed “we just need another 5 minutes, alright?”

“What are you doing?”

“Something, just” he motioned to you “stay in bed”

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mino; on the run (p.2)

Originally posted by cyphermaniac

“I would never hurt you, I hope you know that.”

WARNINGS: Violence and strong language, please don’t read further if you’re not okay with that. 

sidenote: Much shorter than the first part, hopefully there will be two more parts of the same length until the final! Again, I hope that this is not all word vomit. I have no idea what I’m doing. 

Hitman! Mino AU, 3.1k words

Others: Part 1

Lightning cracked the midnight sky then the thunder rolled in. Rumbling deeply into the distance and through their bones.

 “We should get going.” Minho clears his throat, walking away without sparing her a glance. “I’ll take you home.”

Their previous conversation dissolves, swept away by the sudden gush of wind that Minho silently thanked for. Her response left him tongue-tied, a reaction that happens almost every time they’re together and it terrifies him.

The absurdity is almost laughable. How he could barely bat an eyelash when pulling the trigger but to know that someone will be there for him has him foolishly shaken.

As if sensing his distress, she quietly follows suit, keeping her eyes to the ground when Minho fastens the helmet over her head. The usually precise movements of his fingers disappears, infuriating him further as he fumbles with the clasp longer than necessary.

It didn’t take long before the storm ruptures through, the downpour of rain smacking down the stretch of roads viciously, her grip on his shoulders digging into his jacket down to his flesh as Minho speeds his way like they’re losing time.

Everything is a blur, a projection of the state of his mind and trying to stitch back the edges of himself she unraveled is a futile attempt, feeling everything slip beyond his power.

Upon reaching her apartment complex, she hops off the motorbike, drenched hair plastered to her neck when she hands the helmet back to him. Minho looks at her through the exposed panel of his helmet, unable to piece his goodbyes together while the roar of the rain seals the silence between them.  

And when she leans in close to his ears, Minho can’t help but stiffen. Her voice raised yet muted by the chaos that surrounds them.

“Stay the night!”

She’s met with the widening of his eyes as she pulls back to face him, the rain intensifying with each pulsing second.

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Imagine coming home after a long day to find John reading in bed.

Warnings: None.

A/N: This was @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s idea XD

“John?” you called into the quiet house as you threw your bag onto the floor and kicked your shoes off, curling your toes against the tiled floor and dreaming of the moment when you’re finally able to get off your feet.

“In here, baby” John’s voice called from the bedroom.

It was typical of John to be awake at ungodly hours, but even you were a little surprised at his alert tone, given that it was nearly 3am.

You padded silently across the floor and peaked into the room, your breath coming out in a long, winded sigh as you lay eyes on him. He was propped up in bed, black rimmed glasses on his face and a thick novel in his lap. The smile that spread across his lips when he saw you warmed you down to your very soul and you were quick to close the distance between you and the bed, jumping in beside him.

“What are you reading, old man?” you teased him, much as you always did.

You pawed at the book he was holding, careful not to lose his place as you flipped it close to look at the cover.

“IT? Really? I never had you pegged for a Stephen King fan” you mused, cuddling up against his side to lay your head on his chest and drape your arm over his stomach.

The warmth of his body radiated against your chilled skin and you soaked it up happily, rubbing your face against him and deeply inhaling his intoxicating musk. The soft bedding seemed to form perfectly around you and hug your tired frame as it lay cradled next to John.

“It’s nice to read about fictional monsters for once” John replied in a short, huffed laughed as he set the book on the nightstand.

His strong arms wrapped around you and he kissed the top of your head with a long, slow kiss, followed by several short ones as he gently cupped your chin and turned your face up to meet his. When his lips met yours, you smiled against them.

“I need to shower, I smell terrible” you stated, laying a hand on his chest and leaning back to look him in the eye.

“I think you smell delicious” John pressed, burying his face into the side of your neck as he nibbled playfully.

You gave a squeal of delight but slipped out of his grasp and rolled off of the bed.

“Seriously, I’m disgusting” you repeated in a sad tone, wanting nothing more than to stay in bed with him.

“In that case, I should probably join you. Safety in numbers and all that” John suggested with a wolfish grin.

And you couldn’t argue with that.

Tags below cut.

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T E E N A G E  G I R L S  +  M Y T H O L O G Y: Rán

Her feet dangle over the edge, soft skin upon smooth tile, toes dipping into the cool water. The chlorine has filled her nostrils and is near intoxicating, a thick heady smell that tastes of victory and death. Her piercing gaze catches the other swimmers’ through wet lashes, gracing over their lithe, streamlined bodies. She is their captain, head of the swim team, and will show off her gala medals like war trophies for all to see.

To Have And To Hold

She is tired and everything aches, but he is there, because that’s what he does for her – what they do for each other.


She’d kicked off the beautiful but painfully high pumps before he even reached the door to greet her. Tony watched from across the room for a moment as she breathed a visible sigh of relief. He watched her bare toes wiggle against the cold tile floor and then she stretched, obviously trying to ease the back ache that was becoming more frequent now. Finally, Kerry met his eyes and smiled. It was a tired smile, and he hated that she didn’t have the luxury of simply spending a weekend sprawled out on the couch. It was still fairly early, and he knew she’d left the after party long before anyone else had even thought about going home, but nonetheless it had been a long day for her.

“Hey, beautiful.”, Tony smiled, crossing the room and pulling her into his arms. “Did you have a good time?”

“It was alright.”, she mumbled against his chest. “I got to catch up with some people I haven’t seen in a while, so that was nice. I’m just tired. And I missed you.”

“I know.”, he replied. “I missed you too.”

It was becoming more and more difficult for him to let her out of his sight, and it bothered him that he couldn’t accompany her to these events. Kerry had been tired before she’d even left for the award show, and as he’d watched her walk the red carpet and later present on stage, Tony had known that she wasn’t feeling her best. He knew it was normal, she was a woman pregnant in her third trimester after all, but he still hated not being able to be by her side when she was tired and aching.

“Come on.”, he spoke up after a moment.

Taking her hand, Tony let her up the stairs and into their bedroom. He watched as she removed her expensive jewelry carefully, before reaching back to undo the zipper of her skirt.

“Let me.”

He walked up behind her, and Kerry dropped her hands willingly. She had always loved how attentive he was to her every need, but now that she was pregnant, Kerry really appreciated the way he was always ready to help her and take care of her. It wasn’t something she had been used to and certainly not something that was easy to accept at first, but she had come to understand that it was nice to have somebody that cared for her as much as Tony did. It made her feel safe, like she had someone to fall back on – someone that would always make sure that she was okay.

She felt a single finger trail along the soft skin of her exposed back before Tony lowered the zipper and helped her step out of the billowy designer skirt. He eyed the thin, red, barely visible line that ran across her back and around her stomach where the skirt had cut into her otherwise flawless skin. Placing both of his large hands on her waist, he used his thumbs to gently massage Kerry’s skin, hoping to relax her tense body. The tension left her body only briefly before he felt her stiffen again, one hand flying to her ever-growing baby bump. She hissed in pain, and Tony brought his hand to rest on top of hers immediately.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”, she breathed, but another sharp pain quickly replaced her answer with a small whimper. “I have been kicked in the ribs more times tonight than I care to count.”

Almost as if to make a point, the baby delivered another well-placed kick against Kerry’s ribcage and she winced miserably.

I’m sorry.”, Tony whispered, removing her much smaller hand from her bump.

He returned both of his hands to her protruding stomach, placing one just above the hem of her underwear while he used the other one to rub large, soothing circles along the tender skin of her baby bump. The warmth that his hands provided never failed to remind her how blessed she was to have found a man like him. Tony felt the baby kick high on her stomach several times, and every time Kerry’s body would stiffen involuntarily.

“Come on.”, he hummed against her ear, placing a loving kiss there, then another on the skin of her neck. “Don’t make this so hard on your mommy.”

Kerry felt tears well up behind the closed lids of her eyes, because he was so incredibly sweet, and she was in pain, and her hormones left her with a rollercoaster of emotions to deal with on a daily basis. She loved being pregnant, and she was incredibly grateful to have a healthy, active child growing inside of her, but on days like this one, she wanted nothing more than to get the baby out. They stood there for a long moment, and with every caress of its daddy’s hand, the baby seemed to calm down until the painful kicks turned into light flutters and, finally, nothing at all.

“Better?”, Tony asked, and she could only nod, feeling relieved for the first time in hours.

He took off the pink crop top that had taken his breath away when he had first seen her wearing it, and Kerry smiled as he carefully placed it on a hanger. Returning to her, Tony finished undressing her until her beautiful body was completely revealed. Even after having seen her naked countless times, he’d never get tired of seeing her like this. Finally, he walked her into the bathroom. Kerry’s eyes widened and she smiled, because he really was the sweetest, most perfect man. A few of her favorite candles were placed all around the bathroom and the tub was filled with the scented bubble bath she loved so much. He’d bought it for her when the back aches and swollen ankles had first started, and now she used it after every long, exhausting day. It meant the world to her that Tony had been able to pick up on her mood even though they’d been miles apart and he’d only caught a few brief glances of her on his TV screen. Yet, he’d known exactly what she would need. He always knew how to make her feel better, both physically and emotionally.

“Thank you.”, Kerry smiled, turning around to face him.

She placed a sweet kiss against his lips, simply allowing herself to get lost in him for a moment. When they pulled apart, Tony guided her towards the tub and held her hand as she stepped into the warm water.

“God.”, she moaned as her body slowly submerged under the bubbles. “This feels so good.”

“I’m glad.”, Tony smiled. “You need to relax. And this kid needs to relax too.”

Kerry giggled softly, touching her stomach lovingly.

“Maybe we’re going to have a little soccer star.”, she smiled.

She loved imagining what their child would look like and be like, but at the same time, she could hardly wait for the day when they’d actually find out.

“Or a dancer.”

“If that’s the case I hope the baby gets its moves from me.”, Kerry teased, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“If it has my moves, it won’t be considered a dancer.”, he agreed with a grin.

She smiled, and then she reached her hand out to him.

“Come join me.”

“Are you sure?”, Tony asked. “I want you to relax.”

“I’ll be more relaxed when you hold me.”

He’d never be able to tell her no, and he was more than happy to join her in the tub. So Tony undressed quickly and slid into the water behind her. Kerry moved herself between his legs and rested her back against his chest. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and let her head drop onto his shoulder. Her achy, exhausted body finally calmed, and she could feel the tension leaving her with every deep breath she took.

“This is perfect.”, she whispered when his strong arms wrapped themselves around her belly, cradling their baby protectively.

“Yeah.”. Tony agreed. “It really is.”

one - discontent

Glass Heart
Rating: M
And he was in the darkness, so darkness he became. 
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

//starting this story because i couldn’t resist, the idea came to me and i fell in love.

Vision hazy, hair rising on the nape of her neck, the scent of blood looming around her; everything is vividly unclear as to where she’s at and what she’s doing here. Her eyes can’t adjust to the dim light, be it provided by a flickering flame, she can’t adjust enough to see exactly where she’s at.

The numb sensation in her head is overpowering, causing her weight to adjust while the tips of her toes remain brushing the cold slate of the floor. Beneath her, the floor is damp. A water leak, or sweat that drips from her body, possibly?


It makes sense now: the scent of blood, her head throbbing, the wet trickles that line the tips of her toes.

She moves her head to the point that she’s looking down over the tips of her breasts, trying to make out the dark figures that loom in the shadow of her body. She feels the slow drip ooze from her head, running through her hair and trickling down her face.

“Damn it,” the curse slides through her teeth. Her voice is shaky, trembling, tired.

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v | half-hearted pillow forts [c.h.]

Words: 951

Request:  Okay like for a one shot something super fluffy like dancing in the kitchen at 4am wearing calums clothes or cuddling with forehead kisses and rainy days and sorry but cal fluff gives me so many feels

Excerpt:  You felt content with the thought that he was there, giving himself minor injuries in the bathroom, no less, but he was right there and he was all yours.

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Stern Reminder

SUMMARY: Knowing Bruce Wayne as Batman is hard enough, but loving him is a task on its own. With his life on the line at every mission, you tend to forget yours is too. That is, until a sore reminder is spoken and Bruce slips up.

WORD COUNT: 1,815 words


NOTES: (y/nn) = your nickname. Enjoy!

(Y/n) doesn’t know what woke her. Maybe it was something deep inside screaming at her to get up, or a soft whisper from her mind telling her to rise. But she does as the unknown says, and blinks her eyes open as she takes the day’s first real breath.

She looks to her left and sees an empty spot next to her, making her sigh as she looks at the ceiling. Slowly, she sits up and stretches, looking at the clock that reads four am.

(Y/n) swings her feet over the side of the bed, letting her toes touch the cold tiles. She flinches a little but stands as her toes become used to the feeling of icy stone. She walks to the closet, not bothered by walking her own room in just underwear, and sifts through Bruce’s shirts. Her hand lands on a long black shirt and she pulls it off the hanger and slides it onto her body. It’s long, going just past her butt and the body of it wide.

She yawns as she walks into the hall. She knows where Bruce is, down in the lab where he always resorts to at these ungodly hours. She shuffles down the hall and carefully walks down a flight of stairs, holding the rail as she tries to shake off the sleep. As she enters the lab, she can see Bruce standing near his desk. She smiles to herself and walks with quiet steps to him.

When she reaches him, she wraps her arms around his torso and rests her head on his shoulder blade. He chuckles and turns around, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head.

“Why are you up, (y/n)?” he asks quietly, his voice deep in her ear.

“I came to ask you the same,” she tells him, looking up at him with a small smile. His eyes trace her as he recognizes the shirt.

“Isn’t that mine?” he asks and she nods. “Looks nice.” He smiles down at her and gives her a quick kiss before she steps back.

“What are you working on?” she asks as she sits in the chair. She watches as he works on small electronic pieces, Bruce looking under a magnifying glass to see better at his work.

“Just improving the mic on the suit,” he tells her and she nods, yawning. He sees this and looks over, watching her as she tries to rub the sleep out of her eyes. He walks to her and surprises her by picking her up bridal style, lifting her up and setting her on his lap as he sits. She laughs slightly, making his heart jump, and he pulls her close.

He turns the chair to the screens and leans forward, (y/n) with her face buried in his chest as he keeps her close, and turns on the news. He relaxes as he leans back and (y/n) curls up into a ball so she can fit. He puts his arms around her tight and watches the news flicker across the screens. Robberies, weather, traffic, repeat.

“Anything interesting?” (y/n) whispers into his shirt, and he runs a hand up and down her back as he sighs.

“Nope,” he answers, and she hums a response. “You should go back to bed, get some more sleep.”

“Not unless Batman comes to bed with me,” she says in a sing song voice. He laughs a little, kissing her hair.

“I have work to do, (y/nn),” he tells her and she sighs defeatedly, nodding.

“Okay,” she whispers sadly, making Bruce frown as he looks down at her.

“But I’m sure lying down for a bit won’t hurt,” he adds, and he can feel her smile. He chuckles as he turns the screens off. He picks her back up, letting her wrap her arms around his neck as he walks upstairs.

He has to kick the bedroom door open slightly, shutting it back the same way. He sets her down on the bed and kicks his shoes off, climbing under the covers next to (y/n). She scoots to him and he pulls her as close as possible. She lies an arm over him and rests her head on his chest, taking slow breaths as sleep begins to take over. Bruce watches her as he begins to feel the same effects of drowsiness, and soon he falls asleep with the image of (y/n) on his mind.


The phone rings, making (y/n)’s eyes blink open quickly. She sits up, Bruce’s arms still over her, and reaches for the phone. She has trouble reaching, Bruce groaning as he wakes. She grunts and gives up, climbing onto him and straddling his waist as she finally reaches the phone. He just laughs, his hands resting on her hips as she answers.

“Hello?” she answers, clearing her throat. Bruce watches her as one hands plays with the fabric of his shirt, the other holding the phone to her ear. She nods as someone says something and his fingers slide under her shirt, his skin warm on hers, watching her green eyes blink.

“I’ll have him check the report downstairs,” she tells the person in a defeated tone, looking down at Bruce. She sighs and hangs up, setting the phone on the night stand.

“Who was it?” he asks, his fingers tracing small circles on her hips.

“Allie XZ,” she answers, her eyes meeting his. “Said they sent a mission request to your inbox for immediate recovery of arms.” Bruce sighs, looking at her with tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says and she smiles weakly, leaning down and laying her head on his shoulder, kissing his jaw.

“Don’t be,” she reassures him. “The world needs Batman, and that means I have to go without Bruce Wayne for a bit.” He sighs and kisses her forehead, making her smile.

“I’ll be back sooner than you know it,” he tells her. “You won’t even know I was gone.”

“I always know,” she whispers. “Come back in one piece, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he answers, “loud and clear.”


(Y/n) walks through the kitchen, a piece of celery coated on top with peanut butter in her fingers. She takes a bite, the crunching sound filling the kitchen, and takes another so that the snack is gone. She hops on the counter and pulls out her phone as an alarm goes off. She looks around, the blue light over the door making her run to the lab.

“Bruce,” she calls out, sprinting down the stairs as he falls out of the car. There’s a large gash in his suit, blood leaking from between his fingers. “Oh my god!” she cries, dropping to her knees in front of him.

“What is it?” Alfred asks as he walks into the lab. He sees an injured Bruce, who grits his teeth in pain, and runs back upstairs for the first aid supplies.

“Come on, over here,” (y/n) says lowly, grunting as she helps him stand. He growls from pain as he shuffles to the chair, dropping into it with a sigh. (Y/n) reaches up and carefully takes his mask off, setting it on the desk and working to unclip his armour. She drops everything to the floor until he’s left in just his pants and a bloodied shirt.

“How did this happen?” she asks him as Alfred runs to her with the supplies.

“Caught off guard,” he groans, and she cuts his shirt away.

“Get towels,” she says softly to Alfred, who nods as he runs upstairs again. She stays silent as she drops his short to the floor, grabbing a needle and thread to stitch up the seven inch long gash. Bruce watches as she threads the needle, and goes to say something, but Alfred walks in.

“Here,” he says setting the towels next to her as she kneels next to Bruce. She nods and picks one up as Alfred takes a couple steps back, sensing her anger as he decides to head back upstairs.

(Y/n) takes a damp towel and presses it slightly to the wound as she sets the needle down. Bruce gasps from the pain, flinching back, and (y/n) puts a strong hand on his chest to keep him still. He takes a shaky breath and leans back as she cleans up the blood, her eyes finally meeting his.

“One piece,” she whispers. “I said one piece.”

“And here I am,” he answers.

“And if you weren’t here within the next hour, you would’ve bled to death, Bruce,” she argues, her voice cracking. Bruce just remains silent as she grabs the needle, pinching his skin and stitching the wound. He gasps and she keeps her eyes on the needle between her finger and the bleeding wound on the man she loves.

“I’m sorry,” he says as she reaches the halfway mark. She bites her bottom lip and nods once, stitching still.

Within the next ten minutes he’s stitched up. Twenty three stitches total, twenty three reasons for (y/n) to worry. She cleans the blood up with a towel and sets everything on the floor, looking up at Bruce.

“You never get caught off guard,” she says after a second, watching him as he finally takes steady breaths. “How?”

He pauses, his eyes trained on hers. “One mentioned you,” he says lowly, and she furrows her eyebrows as she shifts. She stills stays kneeling on the floor, one hand on his leg for balance.

“What?” she whispers.

“They said your name,” he explains. “(Y/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), one said it loud and clear.” He takes a shaky breath, dragging a hand down his face. “They said they we’re going to come for you next.”

(Y/n) blinks, an ounce of fear in her heart as she leans back a bit. “You killed them, right?” she whispers, her voice weak. “They can’t get me if they’re dead.”

“I got them,” he tells her. He leans forward, placing a hand on her cheek and brushing her skin with his thumb. “No one will ever get you, not under my watch.” She bites her lip to keep fearful tears from rising and he takes her hand, slowly standing with pain radiating throughout his body.

“No one,” he repeats, “will ever harm you as long as I’m around, (y/n).” He kisses her temple as they walk up the stairs slowly and she puts on a weak smile, nodding.

Batman X Reader

Hello all this is a little different from what I normally do but… I had an idea and I wanted to try it out. So I took this from the reader being with Bruce Wayne and the character named Carmen, from my previous story called Carmen and mashed them together. Give it a chance and leave me some feed back if you want. It’s greatly appreciated. I won’t be continuing  this unless requested. Until next time Same bat-time! Same bat-channel!

Bruce jumped up suddenly in bed running his hand down his face then shaking his head. I brushed sleep off of my eyes and turned to see if he was okay. He had nightmares almost every night, every night he slept that is. I rolled over in our bed fluffy white blankets on my body to look at him. He was sitting on the bed in his underwear with his feet firmly placed on the ground breathing heavily. My arms found their way around his waist and I buried my head between him leg and stomach. He lightly dropped his hand on my shoulder tracing small circles with his index finger. “Another nightmare?” I said He sighed getting up. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He stood up and walked out of the door leaving my feeling hurt knowing he would reject me like that. It was fair to assume I wouldn’t be seeing him anytime soon.

I sat on the bed looking out of the large windows that surrounded the room thinking. He had been in a typical scuffle with the Joker but  something had happened this time, different from the usual times. He wouldn’t say but it left him with multiple dark purple bruises and long gashes littering his toned body as well as a rope burn on his neck. I only sat quietly listening to what he was comfortable with telling me, no matter how concerned it made me with Bruce I learned it’s best not to push. I pushed the thoughts away not wanting to work myself up instead focusing on how quiet the night was. Gotham was usually a hustling and bustling city but tonight there were only the distant sirens and the seldom yelling from a drunkard somewhere in the city. Bruce’s penthouse was in the nicer part of town so it was possible the town was as it always was but I was disconnected. I sighed not liking the feeling of ignorance. 

There was a gentle rasping at the door. I perked up hoping it was Bruce. “Yes? Come in?” Alfred pushed open the door smiling tiredly “Mr. Wayne left this for you” He handed me a small white envelope  I smiled back taking the letter. “Go get some sleep Alfred” He nodded seeming to drag his feet as he walked out of the door. He was bothered by the slump Bruce had been in as well.  I dropped my body back down on the bed opening my envelope. “Y/n” had been written neatly in black pen on the front, the inside lettering looking the same. 

‘Dear Y/N,

Take off work tomorrow I would like to spend a day together. I’m sorry for waking you tonight, please do try and get some more sleep. 

Love, Bruce 

I closed my eyes feeling a little relief come over me. Even though I was swamped with meeting and paperwork at the asylum taking one day off wouldn’t hurt especially if this would mean Bruce opening up to me. Lightly I placed the letter on the nightstand on my side of the bed then letting my eyes close. Sweet images danced through my mind as I slept.

I felt a tender shaking on my right shoulder followed by his soft deep voice. “Y/n? I think it’s time to wake up.” I opened my eyes to be connected with his brown ones. I smiled lazily “Good morning” he nodded slightly. “Good morning” He replied back with a soft smile. I sat up in bed feeling the cold air bite at my shoulder. “Where did you go last night?” I asked looking him over. He was dressed in a black dress pants and a white button up shirt. “I was taking care of a few things” I nodded an awkward silence falling between us. I laughed trying to kill it. “I’m going to shower and get dressed. Then we can go out okay?” He nodded his brown eyes looking away in sadness. Exhaling harshly I got up tip-toeing a crossed the cold tiles to the bathroom. I heard Bruce snicker from behind brightening things up. “Y/n there’s someone here I want you to meet once you’ve finished getting ready” I nodded simply relying okay but something clicked in my brain. Bruce never allowed anyone individual person in the penthouse, ever. Only if there was a fund raiser or some sort of social gathering but never on their own. I locked the bathroom door turning on the water trying to brush the bad thoughts away but it kept coming back. “Could it have been another women? I thought to myself immediately feeling guilty about the thought. He wouldn’t do that Bruce was a good man. 

In a daze my clothes came off and I was in the warm working through the motions of taking a shower. Rinse, lather and repeat. I hummed to myself. Once I was done I got out making me way to the closet, putting on a floor length long sleeved black dress then quickly running a comb through my long black hair. When I finished up I walked out into the silent living room. “Oh Bruce?” I called out lightly. looking left and right for him. When he wasn’t in the living room I continued on into the kitchen. The sound of sizzling food rang through the air along with the smell of bacon, an unusual choice for Bruce. Confused I looked into the room. “Bruce??” At first I only saw Alfred in an apron gloves on his hands. Then I saw the small body sitting on a chair. Taken back I walked further into the kitchen. It was a small boy. His hair was messing seeming as if it had been slicked back but had come undone after a rough night. He has on little plaid pajamas that I assume Bruce had Alfred purchase. My eyes wandered to Alfred hoping he would provide some explanation. “Ah good morning Mrs. Wayne would you like  bite to eat?” He smiled holding up the hissing pan. I looked at the boy who sat still his head remaining on the counter then to Alfred again smiling. “Oh no thank you Alfred. I’m just going to have water.” He nodded “Very well Mrs. The offer remains on the table” I smiled warmly at his walking over to the fridge filling up a glass. “Have you seen Bruce lately?” 

Suddenly I felt two strong arms wrap themselves around my waist. “I’m right here” He said happily. I turned around pleased to hear the tone of his voice. “Oh I have been looking for you. Did you meet our new guest?” I motioned to the boy. Bruce nodded “Y/n this is Maddox, Maddox this is my wife Y/n” Bruce looked deeply into my eyes. “She is a very kind lady if you need anything let her know” I smiled touching Bruce’s shoulder. The boy looked up at me slowly. His eyes were a crystal blue and he had a tattoo of a ‘J; on his face. Worried I turned to Bruce but continued on when the boy stuck out his hand. I shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Maddox”  Curiosity roamed though his innocent looking eyes. “Daddy told me about you” He said looking further into my eyes. “Oh he did?” I said sitting down on the chair next to him. “Good things I hope?” Maddox nodded talking a small drink of the orange juice the sat in front of him. “Yep, he trusts you.” Bruce stood behind me placing his hand on my shoulder.  My eyes lingered on the boy trying to map out what I was dealing with. “Y/n could I talk to you alone” I nodded following Bruce into his study. He sat in his desk chair as I shut the door. “So when were you going to tell me you were pregnant?” I said comically. He smiled warmly but then lost the happiness in his eye. “What is it?” I said concerned. Quickly I made my way to his side kneeling down in front of him. 

“Bruce?” I said searching his eyes. He stood up making his way to the window. That night I fought him he surrendered only firing three shots. One at me and the other two at the cops behind me. Then he dropped his gun and put his hands up.” I got up walking over to be by Bruce’s side. “Where is he now?” I inquired seeing the pain shadowing his eyes. “he’s in Arkham” I rolled my eyes internally screaming. Joker was the biggest pain in the ass and my most frequent patient. “Fabulous” I muttered causing Bruce to laugh slightly. “What’s the story with the kid then?” 

He crossed his arms and exhaled loudly “It’s his son. I didn’t know he had one until we were sweeping through the warehouse we caught him in and…” He trailed off rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Bruce go sit down it will make it easier to talk about” He followed sitting on the coach that sat next to the door. I took a seat in his office chair waiting for him to continue on. “and… We found him in a room crying, his face was bleeding from being tattooed”  Bruce looked over at me dismay streaking his face. Sadness and shock pinged around in my brain but I masked it giving Bruce and encouraging nod. My personal feeling couldn’t interfere in this  “He was clinging onto who I am guessing is his mother. who was half dead with a belt strangling her neck.” He stared up at the ceiling seeming to zone out. “Neither Joker or Maddox know she’s still alive and they can’t know.” I nodded realizing what he was getting after by taking in the boy . “Are you hoping this will keep Joker in the Asylum?” Bruce nodded solemnly. “It sounds selfish but you should have seen it Y/N. He’s come completely unhinged. There were dead bodies everywhere just stacked on top of each other.” I furrowed my eyebrows. “Who were they?” He sighed rubbing his forehead again. “Thugs he broke out of Black gate, they were his own men” Bruce looked at me concern haunting his eyes. Part of me believed he cared for Joker not in a conventional sense of course but more in a way he wished  that Joker would let Bruce help him. I began to tread lightly. “Who is the mother?” Bruce sat on the coach seeming to mull the question around in his head. “Her name is Carmen” Images of a past patient echoed through my mind. 

She had long black hair and pale green eyes. She had come to Arkham from an asylum in California when she killed 5 doctors and 35 patients on some unstoppable psychotic rampage and was on a treatment plan for that of a paranoid schizophrenic with depressive tendencies. “Carmen from the asylum?” He nodded seeing to be relieved. “Joker requested to have you take Maddox or he would have he killed. I would rather him be here then anywhere else.” I clicked my tongue nodding. Thinking to myself why Joker would make that request. “Did he say why he wanted me to take Maddox?” Fear of going to work the next day clouded my mind. “No but as Maddox said he trusts you and maybe there is  a small part of him that knows you can turn around the damage and keep the kid off going down the path he took” My back began to ache and my mind was swimming with concerns. Bruce opened his mouth like he was going to continue talking but I  stopped him. “I need to go lay down. This is a lot to process” Without waiting his answer I left allowing myself to crash into the fluffy blankets. Bruce followed closely behind me quietly closing the bedroom door. “He can’t hurt you Y/n I will do ever-” I cut him off not wanting to continue on with the conversation. “Bruce please” 

He walked over to my side bending down to connect his lips with mine. I pulled him onto the bed wanting to feel his warmth. I knew that Bruce would never let anything happen to me. He pulled away momentarily whispering. “I’m sorry I never wanted to drag you into this mess” I smiled stopping him from continuing on only to devour himself with guilt. “Don’t be Bruce. I knew that by marrying Batman things were bound to get a little sticky sometimes.” He smiled so happily I felt my heart shutter. Quickly he pulled the blankets over our heads and began kissing my neck then my jaw until he found his way to my lips. 

Originally posted by baledaily

Originally posted by remember-redlips-rosycheeks

The Heater

this was born out of the idea that Harry and I would never be able to stop bickering over the cold and also that lingerie is strictly a warm weather luxury. 

You’d bought it on a whim a few weeks ago and you’re nearly surprised when the package finally arrives, almost completely having forgotten. LA had managed to drop 30 degrees overnight it seemed and now that pretty something waiting in your package seems less than appealing. Still, when you get back inside and see that Harry’s still preoccupied up in the attic you can’t help but try it on.

The soft baby pink lace feels like butter between your fingers as you rip away the many layers of tissue covering it. It’s a bodysuit, nipped in at the waist with a low low low dip down the center to showcase one of Harry’s favorite places to land more than a few well placed kisses on your body. It’s gorgeous, but it leaves your arms and legs tragically bare and even though it’s afternoon and the sun is still peeking out a bit you’re freezing. You hop with ice cold toes back across the tile floor to the bedroom and strip quickly out of the ensemble, pulling on leggings and Harry’s Packers jumper instead.

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The Path of The Right

[Please note the huge trigger warning on this imagine!]

Anon asks:

Can you make a Carl Grimes imagine where the reader is suicidal?

Anon asks:

Can you make a Carl imagine where the reader is hating herself and finds herself ugly ,and Carl show / tells her , maybe some smut too?

The Path of The Right

In a certain motived way, tangerine-summer licked kisses didn’t spark up lividly anymore and instead created a sharp-knifed air to my throat. A man running around with leather clad shoulders with a razor sharp weapon resting upon them spoke out words which were heavier than the weight of the world for Atlas. He stroked my cheek, called me pretty names with straight white teeth while grinning wide towards my citrus pecked lover.

The touch of his glove, the linger of his finger imprints somehow tattooing itself in invisible ink on my red cheek. It felt as if the strongest chemical acid wouldn’t be able to burn off the mark that brought up the ghosts in between the walls at night to haunt my night sleep. I sat on the end of our bed, now with a mark on my cheek and millions of scars from battles inside and outside my head. All filled with unspeakable horrors and despairs.

My feet were cold. Resting on the patch of the matrass where neither Carl or me warmed the fabric with body heat. A faint smell idled around the room of burned wood and charcoal, the flames that were making the room a shade of orange long gone. I crossed my arms and held on to my upper arms, refusing to give in to the chilled air and crawl back underneath the feather filled duvet.

“Babe?” I heard from behind me. Shit. My fingers hurriedly sprung to my cheeks, aggressively rubbing my cheek angry scarlet to cover up that invisible mark. I didn’t reply to him and continued staring at the burnt out fireplace. He said my name, sharper and vigorous. The blanket crinkling dully and a hand barely touching my skin. He waited, contemplating whether to crawl the hand around my arm or lay it over the texture of my spine between my shoulder blades. His fingers ended up taking loose strands of hair.

“Go to sleep,” he said, firmly. A hint of devastation lingering in his tone. A feel of déjà vu messing with my head, too many nights already having the same quotation. It starting off with a soft question and slowly blending in to be a demand. It hurt to see bags forming underneath his eyes. His hand slowly left my hair, and I instinctively leaned back to the bed. Letting Carl wrap the blanket around me and feeling him kiss my clean cheek. I didn’t want to poison him with the bad embedded ink on my other.

Tomorrow, I thought. Yes, tomorrow sounded better.

There’s a suffocating smell of cigarettes burning my nose when I slowly awaken the next morning. Daryl must’ve went in our room. Carl’s heavy cologne suppresses the smoke away, even though he isn’t in the room anymore. It’s become quite the daily routine, waking up to an empty bed. I know he is out to talk to someone, or helping someone. As long as he wasn’t reminded of Hadus lying in his bed, spitting pomegranate seeds everywhere as infected promises.

I look out the window, hoping to spot him somewhere. He’s there, showing Judith the world covered in mystery white. Thick, white snowflakes landing in their hair as she tries desperately to catch them in the steady arms of her brother. Slowly I get up from bed, my hands gripping the windowsill and my nails digging in the hard stone. I see him glancing up, the smile on his lips by watching his sister dropping just slightly. He looks back to her and helps catch the damned snowflakes while putting his laugh back up.

The drop of his laugh knocks everything out of my ribs. I back away from the window as if it turned into one of those monstrous things out there or even just Negan, a brick wall suddenly resting on my chest. I can’t breathe, God I couldn’t breathe. My lungs violently attacking my body, going faster and faster. I run for the bathroom, dropping on the ground in front of the porcelain toilet and heaving. Tears were mixing with snot and I kick the door closed behind me. If Carl didn’t want to look at me then he sure won’t want to now.

The noise of the door hitting the lock drowns out my hearing to a white noise static. I’m crying, at least, I realise that I am.  There’s a block in my throat and I can’t seem to swallow it away. Instead choking on it like it were Carl’s muttered words of comfort after that night I lost the respect toward my own self.

When my body stops bringing out electrocuting like shocks I slowly stand up. My knees shaking and my toes numb to the white tiles on the floor. On my right there’s a mirror, I turn my head left to look down over my shoulder instinctively, until I don’t. The cold air stings my lungs as if it were horned when I breathe in, looking right to see what I believed was the most horrific monster in this world.

“Gosh, this one is fuckin’ pretty! How do you keep that hidden from the shitty ass world Rick?”

My eyes are set inflamed, swollen with angry wet marks. Cheekbones and collarbones stood out as if touching them would cut the finger through flesh. Lips bitten and for the first time not from stickily sweet secret car rides that ended up with steaming windows or honey touched rendezvous between the sheets. There’s a wound from a knife running past the flesh and the metal taste suddenly breaks through my taste buds.

It’s not until I fully have turned my body towards the glass I dare to look at it. It’s scratched open and angry red nails from clawing are portraying a scar like a werewolves nailed paw. There’s irritation around the striping wounds screaming on what was my even skinned toned complex. It’s a hopeless remedy like a bandage against the aggression of a bleeding wound.

“It’s not your job to hide her I see, oh, I definitely see.”

And then he was touching me. His hand felt like the sting of a needle, my skin reacting as if it were allergic. Screaming and panicking and burning, he felt my cheek, oblivious to the blood thrumming in my veins and my skin scorching like a fire at hand. He was tattooing me as if we were young teenagers drunk on sugary sweet love doomed to end rotten-teethed.

It was wrong. It was like reading a book the opposite way and expecting to understand the words. It was like eating the wrong fruit in the wrong season. He was the false promise on the candy floss we used to buy. Lingering and burning to wipe Carl’s touch away like bleach to a stain. Laughing and pulling my lip down with his thumb, cracking the skin open to a minuscule wound.

My hand fell on the sink, tapping the water open and letting it run as hot as I could after chugging it messily. My throat and head protesting wildly and vocally when my hands turned a sickly coloured red under the stream. A loud searing voice in my own head telling its desire to drown my thoughts away in it. For the first time no panic swelled up to swallow the thought away, as if it were the daily kiss and good morning to give and say.

The cupboard is empty, it’s always empty. Ever since him everything around us is disappearing. Or Carl is hiding things, I don’t know. My hands are resting on the mirror, leaving handprints in cooled off water droplets in their wake. Slipping off abruptly when there’s a deafening knock on the door, my wrist catching and clinking on the porcelain of the sink. I curse loudly and the knock repeats, louder this time.

“Babe?” I try to reply, telling him the door is unlocked but my throat is clenching and stitching itself closed. The second time he calls for me it’s more panicked and for some reason my heart races and pumps panic throughout my veins, as if I’m doing something morally wrong. He storms in and I’m still clutching my wrist, his eyes go wide.

“What did you do?” He hisses, his eyes blank as empty mirrors. He steps closer to me like a snake threatening his kill with baring venomous teeth.

“First you scratch open your cheek, then you do this? You expect me to keep ignoring it?” He doesn’t speak in soft tones anymore, raising his voice a tone close to breaking my eardrums. My head as sensitive after a night drinking and sleeping together.

“Nothing I-,” I’m stuttering and acting like Judith when she’s caught with a hand full in the candy box. He glares at me, his usual gray eyes filled with red ablaze anger.  “I swear, Carl, I didn’t do anything –I swear, please,” I release my wrist and lean against the counter, my hands covering my eyes with a broken up mantra lacing my tongue. My legs dancing on their own accord.

His mouth was moving, my ears were clogged. He’s saying something, mumbling or yelling, I didn’t know. I felt myself sink to the ground, an arm wrapping around my waist and a sudden warmth attaching on my side. He kissed my cheek, all wet and noisily I let myself believe, just like he always does.

“Hey, hey,” His lips were moving against my cheek, ignoring the wet tears disrupting his words of comfort. It was like he forcibly pulled my head from a water tank, put all his weight on my chest so I could breathe again. “Calm down, it’s okay, I was wrong,” He shushed me and whispered my name. His fingertips stroking me with their rough, callused pads.

“Carl,” I sobbed out, resting my head on his shoulder and letting him wrap his arms around me. His hands strong upon my back, gripping and tugging on the fabric of my cotton shirt. “I’m so-,” I swallowed against his neck, “I’m so weak Carl, he touched me, made me so ugly- God, I’m so ugly. It’s there, it’s always there no matter how hard I try to remove it. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-,”

“What? That’s, bullshit,” He pulled back, my heart aching with my body when his warmth was stolen away from me. “You’re so pretty, you’re the prettiest fucking person I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he said, staring with harsh force in my own eyes.

“That’s what he said too,” I replied with my tongue thick and my throat stuck in my own goddamn pity. I was waiting for Carl to lash out, on edge as he was. “Negan, that’s what he said to me too. He called me all fucking pretty, Carl.”I spit out my words.

“No, sweet, no,” His hands moved towards my neck, his fingers braiding in the warmth of my hair. He pulled ever so slightly to make the hairs on my arms prickle upwards. “You’re so beautiful on the inside too, seeing you with Judith,” he looked down and grinned, “I see you with Judith and I just feel it you know? I just feel that I love you, I know I do, but feeling it is- it’s so much more.”

I smiled, all snot with teeth. My hair was stuck on my cheeks and wet because of tears. A blush suffuses on my neck and I knew I looked like a mess. But for the first time it felt like it was okay. It was fine because Carl promised me and told me all with cherry blossoms around his heart. His hand moved away from my neck again, and slowly hovered over the wounds on my cheek. Fingertips barely making contact as he solemnly concentrates on every bump and dip. I let him and stare up towards his focused eyes, all light and soft without a hint of harm.

“I love you,” He whispers before leaning in, his arm wrapping around my neck and leaving my cheek alone to heal. I didn’t reply and it didn’t feel like I had to, the air suddenly too hot and my knees not stuck anymore on a tiled ground. My hands flew for his waist, holding on as if he’d disappear when he finally kissed me. So soft with a blush staining the full of his cheeks.

His touch reminded me of our summer rides, alone and in secret. Warm sweat and softer moans to break the radio silence, his lover giggles whenever he indulged me to ask for more. Fingers twined in brown curls and belt buckles cling like a gun starts a marathon. His breath as gentle as his hands, stripping off clothing as if the fabric was as fragile as the wound on my cheek. It reminds me of campfires, Sunday barbeques with smiles, laughs and tanned skin.

My fingers played in his shirt as I rose up slowly, the both of us on our knees as he kissed harder. Rougher as if I’d provide him fresh air. He pulls back and clenches his jaw, I clench my fist as a fire plays around our stomachs. He looks at me and it doesn’t seem as innocent as before. Pupils blown wide as his gray is replaced with noir. He stares into my eyes as he slowly lowers his hands to the swell of my butt, grabbing as he pulls me up to my feet with him. A gasp escaped my throat and I feel blood rushing in my ears.

He pulls me closer to his body, eyes big and mouth agape. Slowly rolling my shirt up my skin, the soft cotton caressing and tickling me. I pull back to raise my arms, closing my eyes and feeling the cold air hitting the flesh of my back, stomach and breasts. Carl’s hands are stroking over my waist rapidly, roughly rubbing up and down as if he were to savour me. His nails dent half-moons in me and I moan the stars towards the whole empty sky when he presses me against him. He deserved all the stars I could give him.

I grip his shoulders hastily as he begins kissing down my throat. Warm lips and hot breaths making me inhale sharply as I arch my back, letting him pass the depression of my collarbones and the valley of my sternum between my breasts. He wraps his arms around me as he slowly licks his way back up, hands splayed wide against my back and ribs.

“Yeah?” He asks, lust filled and thickly laced on his voice. I nod, at this point following him everywhere. “Yeah, okay, c’mon,” He whispers, latching his mouth onto my neck and creating the galaxy to grip me around my throat. Backing up and I feel his arms tightening around me, making sure I won’t fall.

He led me straight to bed, laying me down on the soft rugs. Climbing over me in a fast and breath stopping motion. Immediately making his name a song like melody when he kissed back over my breasts. His tongue barely grazing my nipple and distracting me from the fact that his hands were placed on the rim of my underwear. I whined in disapproval. His shirt had to go first.

He laughed against my stomach, pearly white teeth blinding me. His brown curls falling in front of his sight, until he leaned back to drop the shirt on the ground. When he climbed back up between my legs the friction of his jeans pressed between my legs. He kissed me and bit my bottom lip with those pearly teeth, gasping and breathing harshly and violently in the cold, bitter air. I giggled.

Hence, before I knew it, both of our pants or undergarments met the floor. He spoke a promise with every breath he let out in my ear, my hand as his lifeline to hold on to so tightly. His lips were swollen and bitten and with every move he did the air in my lungs was knocked out. His hand telling languages between my legs I had yet to learn.

When reaching his climax, he looked down at me as if I were Aphrodite sprawled on his sheets. Mouth agape and eyes blown and yet, he looked as if I wasn’t real. The word love stuck on his tongue like some proclamation, forced to spit out his vow over and over. I could only laugh, the world felt like summer and he smelled like old cars and tangerine once more.

“I love you so much,” I whispered when reaching my own, arching my back under his hands and feeling him touch my backbone. He kissed down my neck, rapidly with his swollen lips and tongue from promising me. I was his, I was his and he didn’t have to claim me with poisonous leather-clad ink. Only with his summer kissed lips and golden brown locks.

I was his.


[I don’t know how I feel about this one, the transitions to scenes felt kind of awkward. Eh not my best!]

drabble of post break up/roommates au of ruby x reader; let me know if y’all like me to continue this

She always dragged herself in around six in the morning on a Saturday morning, breath smelling of vodka and lemons. She always started with taking her boots off then her jacket, following with her jeans and upper layers. She forced herself in the shower, tip toeing across the cold tiles, relaxing under the warm water. Ruby was always scared she’d wake you, and she always did. Not that she knew that.

You hear the rustling, the squeaking of the bathroom door, and you smell the pomegranate of Ruby’s shampoo Tears burned behind your eyes from it. Keeping one eye open, just barely, you saw her look the crack through your door, and she inhaled as she took her first step. You could see her wince when the floorboard creaked. The wall sconce in the hall was turned on and it made her glow. She was wearing a light blue tee that reached mid-thigh; you hoped she had shorts on underneath. 

Ruby lingered in your doorway, wanting but apparently not enough, or maybe too much, she turned away and you closed your eyes when she closed her bedroom door.

Dan x Reader - Dancing Around The Kitchen In The Refrigerator Light

It was summer time in the U.K and it was really freaking hot. It was only about midnight, but Dan and I gave up on surviving the heat and just tried to head to bed and sleep. However Dan likes to have the sheets fully tucked over us, because he feels too “exposed” which makes it impossible hard to sleep. I was dying already, even with only a camisole and cotton shorts on, while Dan lied beside me shirtless wrapping us in blankets. English homes don’t have any sort of air conditioners and the fan that was on didn’t do much, except make an annoying sound. I grumbled quietly, tossing and turning around, but the heat persisted to defeat me. So, I carefully got out of the bed and walked to the door. The hallway was even hotter than our room, but luckily I eventually made it to the kitchen. I grabbed a cup and got some water to drink. Yes please, refreshing water. I open to look inside the fridge to see if there was anything to eat. Some beans, strawberries, a sort of green and red vegetable in the drawer and milk, nothing I really wanted. I still left the door open, as I opened the freezer and hoped there was something type of cold dessert to cool me down. As I was was about to shut the door for the fridge, a figure came behind me.

“Oh my go—” I say, then realizing it’s Dan now dressed in a shirt. “Dan! You scared me.” I said as he laughed titling his head, so I could see the little redness on his cheek from the heat reaction.
“Whatcha doing?” Dan asked grabbing over me to reach a cup from the shelf for water.
“It’s too hot and I wanted some water.” I said closing the freezer door since Dan wants the water filter on that side.
“Ah, got it.” Dan nodded while drinking his water.
I put down my water glass on the counter, while I felt an arm snake around my waist.
Dan’s arm then spun me around right back into his arms. His stature was leaning over me while he smirked.
“What are you doing? I giggled, questioning his weird little sway. I blushed and he must have saw it, just before swaying me more.
“Nothing…” Dan said mischievously before whisking my toes off the kitchen tiles and holding me up in the air.
“Dan!” I shouted placing my hands on his shoulders for support. He just laughed gracefully trudging around the kitchen while gripping my legs carefully.
“Okay, I’m gonna fully lift you up. Put your arms up and out.” Dan said insistently with his big brown eyes cheering me on.
“Dannnn.” Was the only thing I could say before I was up in the air.
“Ah!” I proclaimed before laughing and putting my arms out, letting Dan hold me and whisk me around to his heart’s content. “Whoo!” I said louder, smiling and looking down to see Dan’s messy hair and gazing eyes, with his cute smile.

Dan smoothly placed me back down again, but I didn’t bring my legs down instead wrapping my legs around his chest. Dan was confused but then he caught on, he carefully gripped my hair and leaned me back in a half circle, while I held on as he carried me. Dan stopped and l finally placed my feet back, but right on his. Dan understood me wanting to continue our dance, and began to move around with his feet, then I separated to follow his lead. I put my right hand on his shoulder, as my left hand was in his grip. We took two graceful steps back before returning, and swaying as he wrapped his arm around me. I followed Dan’s gentle lead with in his arms perfectly on my waist.

My silhouette was pressed on his warm body softly, with both of us in a perfect daze. We were intertwined, foreheads touching, soft eye contact intact, and content lips. I quickly turned out of our stance, giving Dan my hand again as he tightly gripped it, puzzled but he understood as I spun out grinning and he spun me right back perfectly with my left hand brought to the air with his own hand. I twirled happily, as I looked into his eyes, then stopping to be back in his grip. Now he followed along, moving himself while I continued. Here we were, bodies moving together. It was the middle of the night as we danced around the kitchen, in the refrigerator light. Our silence was filled with giggles and laughs, as we continued on without a care in the world. As we both slowed down even more, I put both hands on his cheek and stroked his soft cheek and moved out his brunette curl, before he kissed me softly.

“I love you y/n.” Dan said deeply engrossed in this moment of bliss. He gracefully placed his arm around my waist again, and took us back towards the fridge
before closing the fridge door with his back. Leaned against the refrigerator and smiling, I respond with “I love you too Dan.”
I place my lips on his, that accept my offer and then we pulled each into a close hug. Dan lifted me up once more, but this time I was getting carried. My body was sitting in his arms while he walked us back into the bedroom. A final kiss placed and sealed on my forehead.