Coming Into A Fandom Late

This is too cute I might just die

Thinking about how all the moms r prolly drooling over mafia steve when he’s out with his daughter and he’s completely oblivious but how would his reaction be when he sees how his wife catches the attention of others (and he gets all jealous) 🫣

those pesky sugar bugs!

Summary: "Thinking about how all the moms r prolly drooling over mafia steve when he’s out with his daughter and he’s completely oblivious" or Steve takes his daughter to the dentist!

in the universe of the super seller patch! & mafia daycare (read before!)

Warning: none!

Pairings: dad!mafia/gang!steve rogers x wife!reader

-

It’s early in the morning as Sabrina adorns her scrubs, watching her son enjoy himself in the small ball pit in the play area of the children’s dentist’s lobby. Kai is four, but this would be his second visit; something he’s enjoyed so far. 

However, the sound of the dentistry’s bell catches her attention and wow. That is not a man you see everyday, she thinks to herself.

Her eyes follow the bewitching man walking through the door with an equally beautiful little girl by his side. Who is he?

Steve Rogers strides through the door holding Four-Year-Old Elysia’s hand as she toddles along with her father. He’s clad in a handsome burgundy suit, his soft hair styled. 

Sabrina wasn’t the only person in the room gawking at the man. Along with the other mothers that sat in the waiting room. The receptionist couldn’t help but stutter over her words at the sight of Mr. Roger’s. His icy blue eyes pierced into hers. 

Y/n was meant to bring Elysia to her clean up, but couldn't at the last minute as something had come up with her mother. But Steve still had work to do, so he’d drop Elysia with you afterwards. 

Steve really shouldn’t have to go through the bullshit of getting checked in, signing a bunch of papers, and waiting some more. He knows many dentists he could call to the house. Even so, his adorable wife has her heart set on Lys growing up with a normal childhood.

Y/n loved the dentist as a child. She loved the gentleness most carried, the gift bags they gave, and the coin you got for the gumball machine that would dispose of tattoos. 

Elysia’s eyes are captured at the brightness of the room and the television in the corners of the room playing Paw Patrol. But as she enters and sees many of the other kids and adults in the room, she can’t help but shuffle herself closer to her father’s leg. And when her father passes his hand over the top of her head, she can’t help but feel a little at ease. 

Elysia is all dressed up in a Moncler cream, ruffle hemmed polo dress; cream Leather Mary Janes; and a rose-gold teddy bracelet she received for her second birthday (from her aunt nutty, apparently natty was hard to say so it stuck) with matching earrings. 

Sabrina finds it inevitable to stare at this man (really an adonis, if you will) as he checks in. His jaw could cut diamonds, his eyes are a charming, intense blue, (exceuse her language) but fuck are his hands nice. He looks like he’s made of the highest bill. No way he isn’t cut up under his dress shirt and tie. 

Fuck. 

There’s a band on his ring finger.. but she can’t stop staring. It’s only innocent, it’s not like she’d ever walk up to a married man. That’s insane. 

Sabrina watches the two take a seat across from her. The little girl is quick to cuddle into her father.

The man points to the play area, most likely asking if she wanted to play. But his little girl is quick to shake her head, cuddling into her father closer as if it was possible.

So, until Sabrina and Kai are called up, the little girl stays on her father’s lap as the man kisses her forehead from time to time, a hand rubbing her back at all times. 

-

Kai is tilted back, maybe about half way done when the man from before is walking behind the receptionist and assigned to a seat right next to them. Sabrina sits up in her chair, across from Kai, when the man sets his daughter in the dental chair, but stands next to her. 

Sabrina thinks she’s going crazy, but her stomach flutters a beat at the thought of him having to sit right next to her. 

“Daddy, I’m afraid,” his daughter looks up at him hesitantly. 

“Awh,” he cooes, kneeling next to the chair. His Amedo Testoni loafers crease, but that’s the least of his worries. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, baby doll, just gonna get your teeth cleaned so they’re nice and pearly,” he nudges her chin, smiling. 

“Remember what mommy said? You’ll get a goody bag for being so brave!” he exclaims to get her excited. 

“Goody bag? Will I get ice cream?”

“We’ll get ice cream afterwards, but don’t tell mom”

She giggles, nodding her head as she stretches her pinky for a pinky promise. Once they’re pinkies interlock, Steve pecks his thumb just as Elysia does.

He knows it isn’t the smartest idea to take her to get ice cream right after a dentist appointment. But those puppy dog eyes that resemble her mother’s, undermine him every time. He’d get her something sugar-free, he decides, as a compromise. 

Sabrina’s heart cries at the scene in front of her. 

-

Closer to the end, the little girl becomes too ansty and tense at the prospect of the sharp objects, covering and keeping her mouth shut at every chance. In result, the man is advised to sit with his little girl during the cleaning to help her get more comfortable. 

Steve does just that: scooping up Lys so she’s sat with her back to his front, as he’s sat up against the dental chair. He wipes her tears and coddles her until she relaxes. 

Parenting hasn’t come easy to Steve, but with Y/n and the endless classes they take together it has. In the back of his mind he thinks about how his father would’ve scolded him for acting like a baby. He loved his old man, but he definitely lacked the empathy any parent should carry. 

“There’s nothing to be scared of, honey, I promise. We just gotta get those sugar bugs out”

“I want my sugar bugs!” She exclaims, muffled from her hands. 

“You don’t want those sugar bugs, baby doll, or they’ll make your teeth ache.”

“Elysia” Dr. Platt says, “Can I show you something?”

Elysia nods shyly. 

Dr. Platt pulls out a toy dinosaur, with a mouth full of plastic teeth and a toy dentistry bag to go with it. “This is Mr. Dino, he’s scared of the dentist too, but he’s learned that going to the dentist is fun.” She pulls out an excavator (what Elysia was initially scared of after getting her teeth brushed.) 

“So this,” she holds up the tool, “Is an excavator, this is what I’ll use to get all those pesky sugar bugs out,” she demonstrates the tool. “Do you wanna try it and see?”

Elysia replies, taking the excavator. She becomes intrigued as she cleans the dinosaur's teeth. 

“You see, it’s really important that Mr. Dino gets all the sugar bugs out because he really needs his sharp teeth to eat… Dad, would you like to try?”

Steve is handed an extra excavator and cleans the toy’s teeth along with his daughter.

Never in a million years would Steve imagine himself playing with a toy to get his daughter comfortable at the dentist. 

Steve has always wanted a family. But he never would’ve guessed it would end up like this, with him being so involved in the life of a precious little girl he spoils the hell out of. And a wife who basically tells him to jump, and he’d be quicker to ask how high. 

There’s no other way he’d have it. 

Sabrina thinks how hot it is that a man that looks so rough, can be so gentle and loving as he plays along with his daughter. The two giggling with each other. 

At some point, the little girl is able to get her teeth cleaned without any trouble. The man takes out his phone (the newest model) to record and take pictures of the whole thing. 

Steve had promised Y/n he would. 

The two kids finish at the same time, surprisingly.  

At the end, Steve sits his daughter up so she’s facing him. He asks to see her teeth and she smiles excitedly and laughs when he acts blinded, “Look at how pearly white they are, almost blinded your old man,” he tickles her tummy and she squeals. 

Sabrina doesn’t know what it is but seeing an attractive, attentive, caring father is the hottest thing ever. 

Before Steve leaves, he’s stood up with Elysia sat on his hip, one arm wraps around her middle while his other hand holds up the phone awaiting his wife to pick up his facetime call. 

When she does, his wife’s beautiful face expands on the screen. 

“Hi baby, hi gorgeous girl! Are you all done at the dentist?”

“Hi mommy!” She waves her palm into the camera then. 

“Let me see those teeth!” You beam. 

She smiles wide! displaying every tooth. 

“Wow! They’re so clean, I bet you got all those yucky sugar bugs out, huh?” 

“Yeah! Look! I got a goody basket” she holds the bag filled with trinkets and dental hygiene items. 

“Very nice, gorgeous! I’m so proud of you,” you blow a kiss through the screen. “Steven,” your voice evens out. 

“Yes, honey” he smiles sweetly into the camera, already knowing what she’d say. 

“I know you, handsome. She just got her teeth cleaned, don’t get her anything too sweet. Please.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll. We’ll see you shortly alright? Love you.” 

“I love you guys, see you,”

“I love you!” Elysia exclaims. When her mother hangs, she turns to her father. "Daddy, can I have strawberry and cookie dough, please?"

"Of course. You can get whatever your little heart desires, sweet pea." he kisses her temple, making way towards the exit.

-

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

diamonds & pearls // anthony bridgerton x reader

summary: diamonds and pearls do not make up for the lack of love in your marriage

warnings: typical misogyny and sexism, anthony being kind of a dick. guilt ridden anthony, mentions of cheating, kinda angsty

masterlist

you knew exactly what your duty was as a woman. you completely understood that you needed to marry well and provide and heir. so when your father had arranged for you to marry the viscount bridgerton, you were more than willing.

yes, you were marrying a man you didn't really know, however, you could have been worse off. the bridgerton name was good and respectful. you had adored his family and they you. and the viscount himself was young and handsome. you very well could have done worse. and he was a kind man. you knew you could grow to love him.

or so you thought.

the viscount proved to make that task very difficult. he seldom left his office long enough to spend a significant amount of time with you. and when he did seem to have the time to spare, he didn't spend it with you. when he wasn't in his office, and not in the parlor spending time with his family, he was at the gentleman's club. and when he'd return, reeking of perfume, he'd set down a box on your nightstand and leave your chambers.

you were afraid to think of what the jewelry meant. and you were afraid to ask him. so instead, you'd walk downstairs wearing your new necklace or your new bracelet or new brooch and avoid the conversation entirely. greeting your husband in the drawing room during afternoon tea after spending the morning running your errands or maintaining the home while your husband was locked away in his study. everyone in the home knew exactly how your marriage with the viscount was. violet sighed every time she watched anthony walk out the door in the evenings while you sat alone in the drawing room. benedict and colin could hear him stumbling in half drunk. eloise noticing on the nights he stayed out particularly late, some new shiny thing found it's way into your jewelry box. francesca noticed that much unlike her parents, you two did not share a room. but luckily, the youngest children were none the wiser.

overtime, you grew more and more lonely. frequently finding yourself attempting to distract yourself with anything you could possibly think of. first, it was embroidery. it was one of the things you hadn't quite mastered. so you sat in the drawing room with lady bridgerton, her happy as ever to have someone to teach her embroidery skills to now that daphne had gone and eloise being far too disinterested in such things. you'd perfect your pianoforte skills. you'd read every book in the bridgerton library. and now, here you were, in the kitchens with the staff, spreading flour across the table and plopping dough atop it.

"my lady, you needn't do this. we have cooks." your lady maid pleaded.

"i know that. but a lady must have something to occupy her mind, should she not?"

she just sighs and allows you to continue kneading the dough in front of you. she was well aware what you were doing. everyone was. but they allowed you these freedoms in attempt to grant you some kind of mercy.

as you shaped the dough, you could hear lady bridgerton arguing with anthony as they both stomped down towards the kitchens.

"she is a lovely woman and i'm sure if you were to pull your head out of your-"

"mother! i will not have you telling me how to run my marriage."

"anthony, the fact that you think a marriage is something to run is not only heartbreaking, but disappointing." lady bridgerton says as they reach the bottom of the steps and emerge from the doorway into the kitchens.

you cleared your throat and they both turn to look at you.

"m-my lord, lady bridgerton." you stutter softly, bowing to your husband and mother in law.

"what're you doing?" anthony asks, looking down at your dirty hands.

"oh! um...baking. i've....taken up baking. bread. baking bread." you nod awkwardly.

"we have chefs for that."

"yes but i...i've always wanted to learn. and i've mastered my embroidery and the pianoforte. so i thought baking might be- i'm sorry. it's very improper of-"

"not at all, darling. i think it's wonderful." lady brigerton smiles, interrupting your nervous ramble.

"thank you" you smile, your shoulders relaxing slightly before you turn back to your shaped loaf.

lady brigerton makes her way back up the stairs and anthony attempted to follow, but his mother quickly pushed him back silently scolding her son. he steps back into the doorway, staring at his wife.

"how is it going? the baking?" anthony asks after awkwardly clearing his throat.

"well, i think." you nod, a tight smile on your lips as you glance up at him briefly before you turn your attention back to the dough you were placing into the pan.

you hand the pan to the chef to place in the oven and you walk over to anthony, pausing in front of him. you look up at him and his eyes catch yours, and for a moment you catch a glimpse of the love you could have had.

"y-yes?"

"the water basin, my lord. it's behind you."

"oh!" he exclaims, moving aside and watching as you washed off your hands.

he watches as you dry off your hands and is caught off guard by a sparkle on your ear.

"your new earrings suit you."

you pause momentarily before you hang the towel on the edge of the basin.

"thank you, my lord."

"you know, you don't need to call me-"

"yes i do." you quickly interrupt.

anthony's mouth stays agape fro a moment before he recomposes himself.

"i only mean that i am your husband and-"

"are you? i would've been none the wiser."

you walk past anthony as he stands there, taking in what you'd just said to him.

the rest of the day neither of you had attempted to talk about what was said. and as per usual, he'd gone out that night, and in the morning, a box was placed on your nightstand. you'd stared at the box the entire time you'd spent getting ready and there you were now, standing in front of it.

"my lady? is everything alright?" your maid asks.

you just nod your head, grabbing the box and opening it to see a small golden chain, a single pink pearl dangling off of it. the same pink pearl that matched the earrings you were wearing the day before. you slam the box shut and walk out of your chambers towards the dining room where breakfast had most likely already begun.

normally you'd never do something so bold, but you'd grown tired of this routine of his. of this routine that had now become your life. if your husband didn't want to speak to you or love you, that was fine. but you wouldn't accept these lukewarm apologies any longer.

you'd walked into the dining room and before anyone could say good morning, you'd placed the box beside anthony's plate, not even bothering to meet his eyes. and you'd taken your seat next to him, not bothering to look at anyone as they all stared at you and anthony and the box you'd returned to him. as you adjusted the napkin on your lap, and the chef placed a plate of food in front of you, you let out a quick breath.

"good morning." you smile, nodding your head at the family, who still sat staring at you and your husband.

"y/n-"

"oh, forgive me my lord, i've forgotten to mention that my dear friend lady amelia has requested to visit for tea. would that be alright?"

anthony just stares at you for a moment. you'd always accepted his gifts. it was his attempt at an apology, and wearing his gifts was your sign of forgiveness.

"yes, of course. this is...your home too."

"thank you" you smile, turning back to your food.

"sleep well, y/n?" benedict asks.

"wonderful, and you?" you smile.

"great. and this bread is beautiful. well done." he smiles.

"thank you, benedict. kind of you to say."

"seems she married the wrong brother." eloise mumbles, and violet gasps while colin kicks her underneath the table.

anthony's face turns red and he quickly excuses himself to his study, taking the box with him. you pause for a moment, but recompose yourself and continue on with breakfast.

these encounters went on for the next week or so. a box would find itself on your dresser, and you'd place it beside anthony's plate in the morning at breakfast, or on his desk in his study, or even sometimes the box would find itself on his dresser. after the 10th day of this, anthony had had enough.

he barged into the parlor where you were sitting with lady bridgerton, working on an embroidery.

"is there something wrong?" anthony asks, his breathing slightly erratic as he waves the box around in his hand.

everyone in the parlor pauses, looking at their agitated brother. violet was quick to usher the siblings out of the parlor to give the couple a moment of privacy.

"something wrong?" you scoff, shaking your head.

"yes, y/n. something wrong. everything was fine-"

"fine!? my lord, you never spared me a second glance. you spend all day in your study and all night somewhere else. and when you come home smelling like another woman-"

"i have never done such a thing. i am a man of honor and i honor the vow i made to you."

"ha! the same vows that claim you will love and cherish me? i am just short of being a stranger to you! a pair of earrings cannot excuse your absence. gold necklaces will never replace the loneliness i feel everyday in this house. diamonds and pearls do not make up for the lack of love in this marriage. and i've grown tired of pretending that they can." you cry, your emotions getting the best of you as tears begin streaming down your face.

anthony stood in front of you, feeling frozen and unsure of what to do as your breath hiccuped.

"i'm sorry." he breathes out.

you shake your head, quickly wiping the tears away.

"no, i'm sorry. you provide for me and that's all that should be expected of you." you begin walking out and anthony grabs your arm.

you look up at him and he scans your face. he thought you were beautiful even when you cried. he lets out a small sigh and his chest tightens at your confession. he hadn't truly realized how much his actions had affected you. he hadn't wanted to marry, and he hadn't wanted to fall in love. but he couldn't stand being cruel to you. regardless of anything else, you were kind and you were good. you deserved better than what he'd been doing. he pulls his handkerchief out and dabs your cheeks softly with his right hand, and holds you face gently with his left.

"i'm sorry. i'm going to do better. be better. if you'll let me."

you began to fill with hope. hope that he was telling the truth. and as you melted into his soft brown eyes, you knew that you were done for. even if he didn't fulfill his part, the thought had become enough. and you knew you'd forgive him over and over again.

"okay."

***

the next morning you'd awoken half expecting a box on your bedside table, but instead, a flower. you smiled as you twirled the flower between your fingers. you'd stared at it the entire time you'd gotten ready and you shook you head at your foolish joy over a single flower.

it began with little things. for example, one morning, you'd made it to the table before anthony had during breakfast. everyone had said their good mornings and as you looked down to place the napkin on your lap, you felt a pair of lips hit your cheek.

you jumped at the contact and looked over at your husband who was smiling at you.

"good morning, darling."

your cheeks reddened and you couldn't contain your smile.

"good morning"

then it graduated to afternoons he'd taken off spent on a picnic or on a promenade with his family. to trips away to aubrey hall together. eventually, he'd asked you to stay in his chambers, and you did.

and here you were, laying beside him, your bare shoulders exposed to the cold breeze coming in from the open window. his finger tracing the outline of your body as he nudged your nose with his own.

"we're expected for breakfast soon." you smile, and he shakes his head.

"they can wait. i'd like to spend some more time with my beautiful wife on this fine morning." he smiles, grabbing your waist and pulling you him closer.

"you know, there was a time when my idiot husband didn't spend any time with his beautiful wife." you teased before bringing him into a kiss.

"truly, a fool." he smiled.

"a fool feels too kind of a title."

he laughs before flipping you over so that he was hovering above you.

"your idiot husband promises to never let a day go by without letting you know just how much he loves you." he says softly against your lips.

you smile as he leans down and presses a soft kiss on your lips.

"well, my idiot husband should know that i'll love him even if he forgets one day."

"he never will."

taglist:

@luvr-bunnyy @inas-thing @glowstick-lesbian @anothersworld @fuck-goes-on @mrbillymontgomery

natasha romanoff x ftm!reader

request: Can you write a wanda or Natasha x ftm reader fic? I don’t really see any of them

A/N: got another request for specifically wanda x ftm!reader so i’m doing nat for this! she’s so freaking cute 😭

gif from @santa-xx

- no one expected you and natasha to get together

- including you

- she really intimidated you at first

- although she didn’t talk to you much, she enjoyed watching you as you ambled around the tower. she’s a spy, after all

- with your flannels, your bright eyes, and your adorable smile

- you were like a dog

- (i mean in the best way possible, you’re cute you don’t smell like wet dog)

- natasha couldn’t help but feel warm when she saw your charming smile

- and she always laughed at your jokes

- you were usually a goofy, friendly, happy energy around the tower

- and natasha didn’t realize just how much she enjoyed having you around until there was a day devoid of you

- she casually asked clint where you were and he was like “🤨 girl ur bf isn’t here today”

- and he received a glare from her. “just bc we’re two friends who are the opposite gender doesn’t mean we’re a couple, sexist asshole”

- go off bae

- but ummm she did have a crush on you so she went off for no reason

- clint’s a literal spy so he can tell that you guys like each other. he wanted you two to get tf together so he let her in on the fact that you were stowed away in your room today

- she gave him on last glare before leaving for your room. you were laying in bed, under a ton of blankets

- she gave you the cutest little smile :> and tilted her head. “found you.”

- she was surprised when you invited her into bed. you looked so wholesome and tired; she couldn’t refuse. she was laying on her side with her face to yours, her hands tucked under her cheek

- god she was cute. the way she looked at you made your heart swell

- when she asked what had you laying in bed all day, you explained that you felt really dysphoric

- she sighed sympathetically and asked if there was anything she could do

- all you wanted was cuddles tbh

- so you shuffled closer and nuzzled your head into the crook of her neck

- and she hoped you couldn’t hear her heart speed up

- eventually she got more comfortable and started playing with your hair, absolutely glowing when you made little happy noises

- after that, her crush on you got even worse. she couldn’t believe she was letting her emotions get the best of her. she was usually more professional, and she never wanted to complicate things if one of you got hurt, but she had never felt this way before

- she just couldn’t stay away. you were more important than any mission, any concerns about professionalism or detachment—anything

- you two often went on walks in the evening and got take out. usually one of you got sleepy, and you took the food back to one of your rooms, and ate it while watching tv and laughing with each other

- you painted each other’s nails

- and helped each other pick out outfits

- (ur a very bi4bi couple—sorry if ur not bi but that’s a very self insert hc for me)

- you made her feel normal, happy, giddy. around you, she forgot her worries and could completely be herself

- and god she was cute when she was in pj’s in your bed, giggling until she snorted, her hair in a messy braid

- your first kiss happened after you were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe, and you simmered down, and you were gazing at her like she was the best thing in the world

- and all she could think was “i love you”

- and you leaned in, and it just felt natural

- you guys are so cute cause ur her golden retriever bf and she’s the badass “i’ll hurt u if u hurt him” gf

- especially if someones transphobic

- she’ll beat their ass

- she didn’t love pda, but kissing each other hello or goodbye became habit at some point

- so one morning when you went into the kitchen, and she was buttering toast, you gave her a quick peck

- i mean how could she resist. you had this sleepy smile on your face and your hair was all messy

- and the members of the team that were in the kitchen were like ummmmm qué?

- she glared and pointed her butter knife at them. “don’t,” she snapped

- clint was about to absolutely burst with i told you so’s, but even he was a little scared of what nat could do with just a butter knife, so he kept quiet

- but his face was so smug anyway

- ufhfhhff whenever u fall asleep on the couch, she puts a blanket over you and kisses your forehead <3

- you’re the only person that can make her flustered or feel shy

- you don’t even realize you do

- when you kiss her cheek in passing and she has that tiny fond smile

- or you hug her from behind and her words fumble and she can’t even remember how to talk

- y’all are just so sweet and open with each other

- she comforts you when you feel dysphoric

- she talks to you about her worries that she would never tell anyone else

- y’all are SOULMATES the end

Enamored 36 - Sneak Peek

“Tomorrow,” you said. “I still need to go over the invitation list.”

Keep reading

Stating a petition so people stop writing love triangle… why choose when you can go to Paris 🙃

I love your Instagram imagines so much! I have a concept with Nawal Sari (nawalsari on Instagram and Pinterest) where Reader is Harry’s best friend and the fans love her so much and she always interacts with them and stuff? No pressure though! 💕

i love love LOVE this request !!! i hope you enjoy, i had a blast making it !

you can send me ideas for ig blurbs here (and feel free to talk to me about anything)

masterlist | don’t forget to like and reblog please !!

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yourinstagram NIGHT ONE OF LOVE ON TOUR IM NOT READY

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harryfan1 THE PRETTIESTTT

harryfan2 WILL YOU BE IN THE PIT TONIGHT?

↳ yourinstagram BET I WILL

jefezoff Stole the show already

↳ yourinstagram ikr fire harry and make me the front man of the tour

harrystyles 🙄🙄

↳ yourinstagram jealous because everybody likes me better, I KNOW

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yourinstagram HONTENT FOR MY HARRIES TO WARM UP FOR THE SHOW HERE’S AN UNSEEN

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harryfan1 SHES THE BEST

harryfan2 SHES ALWAYS GIVING US CONTENT

harrystyles Stop leaking my stuff, plase.

↳ yourinstagram stfu and go get ready you have fans to please

↳ harryfan3 IM CRYING

liked by annetwist, pillowpersonpp and 20,867 others

yourinstagram ugh he can’t live without me

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harryfan1 will you be there for the ny shows ??

↳ yourinstagram OF COURSE BESTIE

jefezoff Thing One and Thing Two 😂

↳ yourinstagram whatever you say cat in the hat

harrystyles You irk me

↳ yourinstagram NOT THE OLD MAN WORDS 😭

↳ harryfan2 i love them so much bye

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yourinstagram IM BACKKK SEE YOU ALL IN THE CHERRY PIT TONIGHT

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harryfan1 HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE

annetwist Have fun 😍

↳ yourinstagram love you mom

harryfan2 she travelled all the way from LA to be there tonight i’m going to cry

↳ yourinstagram shhh don’t say it out loud harry is going to think he’s special

↳ harrystyles Heyyyyyyyyy

↳ harryfan2 WHAT JUST HAPPENED

liked by mitchrowland, harrystyles and 22,509 others

yourinstagram even tho he annoys me most of the times, this dude has been my best friend for eleven years now and i just can’t imagine my life without him, and i’m beyond proud of him 🥺

in 24 hours i’m going to delete this caption and put that he’s a pest tho

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harryfan1 CRYING

harryfan2 MY FAVORITE DUO

jefezoff 😂😂

harrystyles Aww, you’re cute xx

↳ yourinstagram you’re okay ig

harryfan4 i want what yn has

This story is golden !!

MASTERLIST

Flipped

The reader is Aberama Gold’s eldest daughter, Esmeralda Gold in this fic.

This fic might have dark themes which may irritate or offend some readers. But if you’ve seen Peaky Blinders and are familiar with Thomas Shelby, you’ll be okay. The story, plot, character histories and back stories might not be relevant to the original “Peaky Blinders”. Warnings will change per chapter.

Update: every 2-3 days

Synopsis: Your father’s one mistake shall alter your life’s direction forever.

Chapter 1: The coin

Chapter 2: Kitten

Chapter 3: Distraction

Chapter 4: Dawn

Chapter 5: Fook Linda

Chapter 6: Sybill

Oh this is going to be perfect

Wingman {1} || Retribution MC AU

Sam Wilson x Air Force!fem!reader

Summary: You and Joaquin served together, starting as his wingman, but the long overdue reunion doesn't go quite to plan. Warnings: 18+ only, reader PTSD, violence, blood, panic attack WC: 2.6k

Sam's Masterlist || Retribution MC Masterlist || Part 1 ||

It had been years since you last saw Torres, back when he was discharged from the Air Force, but you spotted your wingman the moment you stepped out of the terminal at JFK. His boyish smile stood out, as much as his leather kutte, among the business people strutting through the airport with determination. He also couldn’t help holding up a piece of cardboard with a picture of a fire drawn so badly it could have been a five year old’s artwork.

“Look at you, trading one uniform for the next.” You smirked as you dropped your bag to hug him.

“This is freedom baby, no uniform here.” He grinned, grabbing your back and chucking it over his shoulder before frowning. “Where’s the rest of your stuff?”

“I travel light.” You shrugged. “A few changes of clothes do me just fine.”

Joaquin seemed unconvinced but let it go and led the way out of the airport to a beautiful Harley that was parked illegally. “Still a daredevil?”

You grinned as you looked at the beast. “Hell yeah, you gotta promise to go fast.”

“You know me, I don’t do anything slow.”

“That’s not what that RIO, Chantelle, said, second tour wasn’t it?” You teased, earning a friendly punch to the shoulder.

“Please don’t mention that in front of my brothers, I’ll never hear the end of it.” He begged as he swung his leg over the bike and patted the leather seat behind him. “We have a party to get to.”

You could see the attraction to spending your days riding a motorbike, it equally gave you a sense of freedom but also a thrill knowing it was only the rider's skill that kept you upright through the hard and fast turns. You had served with Joaquin so you knew you could trust him with your life but it was one thing to say it and another to put it to the test. 

“Where’s this party?” You shouted over the throaty growl of the engine and the wind.

“Clubhouse.” He shouted back, chopping down a gear as he slowed down and turned into what could have been an old roadside tavern decades ago. “Welcome to Retribution.”

Joaquin kicked the stand out after parking next to a line up of bikes and grabbed your rucksack from the saddle bag before you could. Classic rock spilled out of the open doors and you were taken back to the days off you spent in the desert, cold beers, steaks on the bbq and a boombox playing cassette tapes that had been hoarded since the Fall of Saigon. 

“Hey, you okay?” Joaquin frowned as he saw you frozen beside his ride.

You were jolted back to the present by a hand on your shoulder and you tensed up to stop your reflex reaction of dropping the person who had touched you. “Sorry, must be the jetlag. So this is your new family?”

Your question did its job and distracted him from probing into your reaction as a bright smile lit up his face. “Yeah, most of the guys served too so it’s just like the old days.”

“Just slightly illegal.” You joked but his smile dropped and he sighed.

“It's easier to stomach than the legal shit we did over there…”

“Don’t remind me.” You muttered before doing what you do best and deflecting. “Is there a bar here or what? What kind of hospitality is this Wacky?”

He chuckled at his old callsign and nodded his head to the door with an affectionate wink. “Come on, you’ll need some hard liquor to deal with this lot.”

You were only halfway across the crowded space when a sharp slap burned across the back of your jeans. Almost as if there was a built in radar that detected fights, the entire crowd turned and the music cut off as you took a deep breath. Joaquin had dropped your bag on the closest table and narrowed his eyes at the man behind you, not knowing the mistake he had just made. 

“Take that shit elsewhere.” A man ordered as he stepped into the ring of space that had appeared around the offender, the flash on his chest reading Sergeant at Arms. “We treat women with respect ‘round here.”

“Thanks, boss.” You said as you turned to face the guy who stared at his red palm like it was the one who betrayed him. “But I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“Blaze…” Joaquin stepped closer as he saw your fist clench but it was too late.

You smashed your fist into his face and felt the crunch of his septum breaking from the force before you raised your leg and kicked him square in the chest. The man stumbled backwards into a table and crashed it to the ground with a pained groan, Joaquin rushing in to catch you around the waist before you could get in for another shot.

“So this is Blaze, huh?” The Sergeant at Arms laughed as he held his hand out for you. “I’m Sam Wilson, welcome to our clubhouse.”

You couldn’t help grinning back and you broke Joaquin’s hold to shake his hand. “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“You know, ya boy here failed to mention the Blaze he spoke so highly of was a fine looking woman.”

“He’s been known to do that. Is that gonna be a problem, Wilson?” You cocked an eyebrow but his smile only grew and your stomach clenched at the sight.

“Hell naw, we love pretty ladies ‘round here.” A chorus of agreements echoed around the room before the music was restarted and Sam stepped in beside you, his body so close but not touching and the heat his lips warming your neck. “What are you drinking, sugar?”

His warm brown eyes caught the light and you spotted flecks of amber swirling around his irises, it was almost unfair that he had such pretty eyes and thick eyelashes surrounding them. He watched with fascination as you stared at him, your eyes seeming to search for his soul as he waited patiently for an answer. He didn’t mind, he was enjoying the view. 

“Something strong.” You finally answered before biting your lip. “Wacky’s watching isn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s totally planning on giving me a big brother speech as soon as I step away.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you patted his hard, broad chest beneath the leather kutte. “Goodluck, he’s got this routine locked down.”

You slipped into the crowd and grabbed your bag from the table as Joaquin made a beeline towards Sam. You loved how protected he was over you, there was so much good in his heart that you let him have his moment and went to get a drink. 

“I’m not gonna hurt her.” Sam said before Joaquin even opened his mouth.

“Not intentionally.” 

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Sam crossed his arms, offended by the notion. 

“Blaze has been through some stuff alright, she’s…fragile.” 

Sam looked at the broken table where the man had been dragged out from and scoffed. “Doesn’t look that way to me.”

“That’s just her default defense mechanism, that’s Blaze - the hot headed soldier.” Joaquin tried to explain but he sighed as he couldn’t find the right words. 

“I get it bro.” Sam clapped him on the back and started making his way towards the bar. “We all put up a wall to survive over there.”

Joaquin watched Sam approach your bar stool and waited for the inevitable elbow to be thrown but you didn’t even flinch when he dropped his arm over your shoulder and reached over to grab a glass. You were so often trapped in that head of yours that if anyone startled you or snuck up behind you, you dropped them to the floor before even realising who it was. He couldn’t blame you for it, even after four years he still had nightmares - he could only imagine how much harder it was for you.

You were savouring the whiskey on ice, taking little sips as you listened to Sam boast about his club. You would have thought he was cocky but from the scars he was showing off he proved that he could back up his tales. It only made them more impressive and brought out the competitive spirit that tended to get you in trouble.

“An IED went off outside a school we were helping rebuild.” You pulled the waistband of your jeans down slightly to reveal your hip and Sam winced at the puckered scar tissue that disappeared below the denim. “It was packed with shrapnel.”

He reached out and gently traced his thumb over the scar, scorching heat trailing his touch. “How far does it go?”

Maybe if you had drunk more of the whiskey you would have jumped at the opening and let him take you to one of the rooms out back. As it was, you really were starting to feel the jetlag seeping in and with his devilish charm he would probably disarm you until you had laid all your secrets bare - he just had that trusting sense about him. “Maybe one day you’ll find out.”

You finished the now watery whiskey and placed the glass on the bar top before slipping from the stool in search of Joaquin. He was easy to find once you heard his laugh, the sound bringing back memories of the good times before it went bad.

The taste of whiskey, scent of smoke and the heat inside the clubhouse threw you back to a humid tent a few miles west of Kabul. It was supposed to be a time to relax before the next projects were assigned so you cut loose, drank too much and forgot for a moment that you were thousands of miles from home. Insurgents hadn’t known it was your time off, they hadn’t cared that you were a part of the mission trying to help rebuild infrastructure.

You could still hear their bullets ripping through the tent, see the glint of their machetes and they hacked their way in to find survivors of your team.

Light reflected off something beside you and ducked for fear of the blade burying itself in your neck. Your heart hammered in your chest as you heard the screams of your team calling for backup that would never arrive in time.

“Blaze!” Wacky called out and you reached blinding, still feeling the cold blood of your teammates running down your face as you hid beneath their bodies like a coward. “Let me through.”

“Hey sugar,” Sam’s velvet voice broke through the sound of your heart echoing through your head, “whatever that pretty head has taken you, you’re not there anymore.”

Your vision was hyper focused and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the boots you wore, military standard issue steel cap boots. They weren’t the same boots that you had worn that day, these soles weren’t soiled with the blood that had seeped into the dirt.

“Here.” Sam said as he took your hand and placed it on his chest. “No uniform.”

You watched your fingers run over the smooth leather and the thumping in your head was replaced with thoughts of the steady beating under your palm.

“What was that?” Joaquin asked, concern dripping from the question as he knelt beside you.

You were ashamed that you had let the past bleed into your present and you were especially sorry that you had knocked over a bartender who had been collecting empties on a steel tray.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here.” You muttered as you pulled your hand back and rose to your feet. “You’ve got a good family here Torres, I don't want to mess it up.”

“You won’t.” He said as he reached for your arm, catching himself as he saw you reel back. “Please, stay.”

You backed away to the door with your bag on your shoulder and your eyes darting around to make sure no one could attack. You knew in your heart they wouldn’t but your mind was your worst enemy most days. You had hoped that wouldn’t be the case once you were out of the war zone but ghosts had a way of following you.

“She’s got PTSD.” Sam said to Joaquin as they watched you leave.

“Yeah.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead roughly. “I tried to get her to talk to someone but she’s stubborn, she won’t listen to me.”

“She listened to me.” Sam pointed out. “Let me go talk to her.”

“I know you mean well Sam, and no offence, but I don’t want you getting involved if you can’t see it through. You just met her.”

“I know what she’s going through. I think I can help her.”

“But what if you can’t?” He snapped. “Are you gonna abandon her too, like everyone else has?”

Sam clicked his teeth and started making his way after you. “Thought you knew me better than that.”

Heavy boots quickly caught up to you and you cast a short glance over your shoulder, stumbling as you realised it was Sam. You took a second look, expecting to find Joaquin behind him but there wasn’t anyone else along the dimly lit street. Stopping under one of the few streetlights, you turned and waited for Sam to close the distance with long, purposeful strides.

“How’s Joaquin?” You asked, seeing the confusion on his expressive face. “I assumed you had to beat him into submission to get out the door.”

“You two know each other pretty well.”

You could hear the suspicion in his tone, something you heard a lot in past relationships and you were beyond the point of caring if you came across as rude. “He’s my best friend. I would take a bullet for him and I would put a bullet in someone for him. End of story. If that’s gonna be a problem for you then turn around and march that nice ass back to the clubhouse.”

His lips parted with a laughing smile and he buried his hands in his jeans as he leant against the lamppost. “I knew you had been checking out my ass.” 

“That’s all you got out of that?” You chuckled, tipping your head back to see the sky full of stars. 

“The only thing that matters to me.” He said as he sobered up. “And you can’t wander these streets all night so how about you crash at mine tonight.”

“What’s the catch?” You asked as you tightened your grip on your backpack.

“No catch.” He promised. “But if you’re up for it tomorrow, I have some people I’d like you to meet.”

You pursed your lips in consideration but knew you didn’t have a lot of options aside from going back and finding Joaquin but you weren’t ready to face him again just yet. Nodding tentatively, you let him take the bag off your shoulder and slip his hand into yours. 

“It’s a nice night for a walk.” He commented as he started heading further away from the clubhouse. “I only live down the block.”

“Thank you for all this.” You mumbled as you tried to ignore the comforting warmth of his hand radiating up your arm. 

He pulled you to a stop and waited silently until you had the courage to look up from your shoes. “It’s no problem, really. You’re like family to Joaquin, and we take care of our own.”

Fire and Ice || b.b

A/N: this is how I imagine reader and Bucky from The Fire Within met…

Warnings: fighting, training, swearing

Word Count: ~1k

"You need to rotate your hips more and follow the punch through."

You rolled your eyes at the man Stark had hired to train you. You briefly wondered how long he would last before you followed his advice and hit the punching bag. This was your first training session together and it had been a long day before you had even stepped into the gym on the property. The man hadn't even introduced himself, it was just 'do this, then do that.' He seriously needs some bedside manners.

"What did you do to get relegated to training me?" You asked between hits.

The man just ignored you, focusing solely on your technique.

"Can you tell me your name at least?"

You huffed in annoyance at his preference for silence and took your frustration out on the bag again. After your arms felt like they were going to fall off, you moved to the shooting range and you were handed a heavy Glock 17. You smiled as you imagined your trainer’s face on the target and unloaded the clip into it.

To finish the session, and make matters worse, he joined you on a two mile jog around the compound. Still annoyed that he wouldn't talk to you, other than to give orders, you sped up to get away from him. Unfortunately, his longer legs easily kept up the pace and that just pissed you off more. You looked over to him and he was smiling lazily back, like he didn't have a care in the world so you struck your leg out but the asshole sidestepped making you nearly tripped over yourself.

"Are you done being a brat?" He asked.

"That would depend on whether you have the capacity to hold a conversation."

He didn't reply. Big fucking surprise. Glaring at him, you continued to run. Finally, you went to go your separate ways as you passed the pool, almost back to the start of the track. You looked at the pool, it was cold and grey in mid January, upstate New York and you imagined it had to be less than 50F. You inched closer to the man as you approached the deep end and pretended to stumble, him raising his hands automatically to steady you. Taking the opening, you shoved your hardest into his chest and watched as he fell backwards. His hands flailed as he tried to regain his balance and he almost did but then his heel slipped on the tiled edge of the pool and he was gone beneath the surface.

You laughed and crossed your arms over your chest with a wide grin as the man came up to the surface and quickly pulled himself out. You couldn't help but notice how his wet shirt hugged his body, defining the muscles beneath it.

"Are you always such a bitch?" He hissed.

You laughed at him again, thinking he was either brave or stupid.

"Always. Did no one warn you?” You fired back. “Ready to tell me your name?"

Muttering a string of curses in a language you didn’t recognise, he disappeared inside and you hoped he wouldn’t show at your next session. You weren’t that lucky though.

"Your pattern is too predictable." Your trainer criticised you. "It would be harder for an opponent to take you down if you change your style."

"No one has been able to take me down before." You mumbled as you continued to dance your way around the punching bag, striking out harshly.

"Then they weren't trained well enough."

His words angered you more and you spun around, throwing a wrapped fist to his face. Quick on his feet, he dodged your attack and took a defensive stance.

"Do you really want to do this, doll?" He asked with a smirk you almost found sexy, except it was attached to his face. "I'm not like your friends here, I won't go easy on you."

"I have been waiting for this since I set my eyes on you."

You attacked first. You had been lazy during your training, using the same combos because you wanted him to underestimate you. The tension had been brewing since the pool incident and now it was finally coming to a head.

"If I win, you have to tell me your name." You said between punches and blocks.

"Fine." He smirked as if he had already won. "But if I win, you tell me why you are such a bitch."

You nodded before ducking the arm that tried to pin your face to the mat. You swept your leg out and watched him as he began to fall to the ground. He managed to turn the fall into a roll and quite gracefully came to a stand again. You had to admit the man was a great fighter, maybe even better than Natasha.

Your breath was starting to strain from the workout and now the fight so you knew you had to end it soon. Feinting left, you watched his body quickly react before you grabbed his arm and swung your body up behind his back to land on his shoulders. You wrapped your legs around his neck and tried to ignore the feel of his breath on your skin, the shorts you wore no longer a good idea. Finally you remembered what you were doing before throwing your weight backwards and pulling him to the ground.

Before he could recover, you planted yourself across his waist and pinned his hands above his head. You were both breathing hard and for the first time you saw something other than resentment in his eyes. He actually looked impressed as he stared up at you with his crystal blue eyes.

"James."

It took you a moment to realise he was telling you his name, you had been too distracted by his eyes. He was quite attractive when he wasn't giving you orders.

"James, I would say it was nice to meet you but…" you climbed off him and made your way to the shower room, stopping at the door to see him get up on his knees, “it would be a lie.”

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Fuck No sleeping is overrated !

Hands That Heal - Ch. 2

Bucky Barnes x mechanic!fem!reader

Chapter Summary: Bucky knows all about having a past and doesn’t judge you for yours. Series Warnings: 18+ only, canon-typical violence, swearing, fluff, misogyny/degrading comments from some men. (smut will come later) Word count: 3164

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 coming soon

RECAP: “Do I know you?” Axel asked as he pointed the weapon at Bucky. “You look familiar but I know you don’t belong ‘round these parts.”

“Nah.” Bucky smirked, not showing an ounce of fear as he looked down the barrel of the gun. “I’m just here for her hands.”

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

“The fuck did you say?” Axel growled as he stepped closer to Bucky but you moved in to intercept him.

“Ax, I’m just fixing his bike.” You said as you placed your hand on his gun arm and tried to lower it. “That’s all.”

“Not that it is any of your business.” Bucky commented.

You wished he would go back to being quiet, you didn’t understand why he was suddenly talkative but you would certainly ask if you all made it out of this moment alive. For now you had to try to stop your ex from putting a bullet in Bucky’s brain. That goal was getting harder by the second as he glared down at Axel and neither man looked ready to back down from the staring contest.

“You are not helping, Bucky.” You pointed to him before poking Axel in his leather clad chest. “And you, you know better than to come here. Go home to your wife and fix your fucking fence.”

“When did you grow a set of balls?”

Axel sneered at your sudden confidence but there was something about knowing Bucky was there and fearless that gave you the courage to talk to him in ways you never had before.

“Just get off my property.” You sighed and pointed out the garage door. “You’re not the only one with a gun, remember.”

“You’re lucky I’m late for church.” He growled before getting up in Bucky’s face. “You touch my girl, you’re dead.”

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