does anyone else feel like they can’t breathe sometimes? like things get so crazy and unreal that you think you’re dead so you forget to breathe. those few seconds of gasping for air makes you feel alive again. it’s funny, to feel alive you must feel like you’re dying.
I know it’s not biker friday but this gave me biiiig ari vibes
Pairing: Beefy Biker!Ari x reader
Warnings: Some feels, 6'6" Ari being soft for his girl.
|Masterlist| Ari Masterlist| Biker Masterlist|
"What do you need?" Ari softens his voice, crouching down until he's facing you.
Something in him cracks at the sight of your tear filled eyes. He would do anything to wipe away the exhaustion and the stress, to take your burdens and put them on his shoulders.
"I'm okay," you say, shifting in your chair. You're not.
And judging by the look he's giving you, Ari knows.
Ari takes your hand in his larger one, his fingers are all calloused and rough, so used to feel cold steel and sharp tools that he cant help but rub his palm over yours, marveling at how you soft you are.
"Ya know, you're not a good liar," he states after a minute. "You need to work on that."
"I'll add it to the list," you respond with a halfhearted smile.
He brings your hand up to his face, brushing his lips over your knuckles. "What do you need?"
The words linger between you like wisps of smoke, curling around the recesses of your mind. Ari waits patiently, running his thumb over the back of your hand.
"I don't know," you finally sigh out. It's true, you don't know why you're feeling like this today, why there's an ache in your chest.
It's just there.
His knowing azure eyes flicker up to yours, searching for something. His gaze piercing through you, stripping you bare, you want to hide but you captived by the depths of emotions lurking in his eyes. Ari finds whatever he was looking for because he nods once, his brow relaxing. "Okay, Sunshine. Let me help."
You didn't know what his version of help entailed until he guided you of the garage and into the adjoining clubhouse. Past the lounge, kitchen and long hallway to his room.
Ari let go of your hand, his fingers flexing from the loss of your touch, warily observing you wander around his space, taking in the decor he meticulously picked out years ago.
You're the first one to step foot in here since he claimed this room after his last tour of duty.
Everything in this room, sleek greys and dusky maroons, fits him. You see him everywhere you look, the tiny dresser with a few family photos, a guitar tucked in the corner, a half empty glass of water on the nightstand with his rings scattered nearby.
This is Ari.
He takes off his shirt and lays back on the charocol grey sheets and reaches out his hand. "Cmere beautiful."
You hesitate. Ari crooks his long finger and beckons you closer. "Sunshine," he says with a smile.
"I've been working all day, I don't wanna mess up your-"
Ari chuckles, the thought of you messing up anything is incomprehensible. "Don't worry about it."
You pad over to him, toeing off your shoes. As you climb on the bed, the scents of his fabric softner and his cologne rise up. Placing your head on his warm chest, you can't help but tease him. "I didn't take you for a lavender guy."
Ari grumbles under his breath, dragging your body over his and locking his arms around you. "Be quiet and let me help you," he orders.
For the first time in hours, you smile. And that ache eases enough for you take a deep breath in. His hands knead soft, soothing circles on the small of your back and the steady beat of his heart lulls you to sleep, you feel safe in his arms, like no matter what happens you know that he'll take care of you, protect you.
"Thank you."
Ari blinks, glancing up at the ceiling, swallowing thickly. Of course Sunshine, I'll give you whatever you need, I'm all yours baby, he thinks. Tilting his chin down, he kisses the top of your head. "Get some sleep."
Idk if this is what you’re looking for, but maybe lumberjack bucky (or really any bucky) being an absolute gem when you’re sick?
Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: sick!reader, Greta being herself <3
a/n: Here's a link to the series Undisclosed :) But this can be read separately if you're just looking for a sweet sick fic 🤍
____________________________________________
It was bound to happen eventually.
In a town constantly freezing and packed with snow, it was inevitable that you would get sick, especially during the winter. But you hated being sick—abhorred it, even. Your mother always shoved you in your room each time you showed even the smallest sign of a runny nose, sending a maid in to ensure you were well enough for whatever event she had planned next.
So it was ingrained in your being—hammered into your mind—that when you were sick, you kept it to yourself. Your sickness was a weakness, a burden. So you would knock back some cold medicine, pray that a fever didn’t accompany your headaches, and get through it all on your own.
Well, that was New York. This was Stowe Mills. And Stowe Mills afforded you a lot less… secrecy.
Luckily, when Bucky woke up beside you, he didn’t quite catch the warmth of your forehead when he kissed it on his way out to work. He didn’t notice the slow way you moved toward his touch, and he wasn’t even home to witness the way you stumbled over Alpine on your way to make a breakfast that you never even ended up eating.
So Bucky didn’t notice. That was good—he was your hardest obstacle.
But then came Greta.
You thought the extra strength fever-reducer and the three cups of peppermint tea this morning would have been enough to throw her off your trail, but Greta had taken a backseat in the library recently, content to simply watch as you manned the building on your own. Which, incidentally, gave her a lot of opportunities to catch you blinking too hard and struggling to stay upright.
“What’s wrong with you?” the older woman scrutinized, eyes narrowed and posture tight. “You keep tiltin’ over like a crooked fence.”
You snapped your gaze up from the book you weren’t even reading, the headrush that came after almost sending you to the floor. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
She clicked her tongue, looking unimpressed. “You think I’m an idiot?”
“What? No, Greta I—”
“Go home. I’m sick of looking at you.”
You leaned your forehead against the wooden counter, defeated and relieved within the same breath. Technically, Greta never acknowledged that you were sick; maybe she just thought you were tired or had a rough morning.
That thought was forgotten at the front desk when she intercepted you at the door, huffing out, “If you think I’m gonna let you walk home lookin’ like you're about to pass out then you’re wrong, girl. Call your boyfriend. I’m too old to be getting this annoyed.”
Unable to defy the older librarian, you fished your phone out of your pocket and pressed Bucky’s contact. You hesitated for a moment, reluctant to call him when he was always so busy down at the lumberyard, but then Greta’s brow raised and your phone was connecting the call.
It took a few rings, as it always did when he was at work. Sometimes the guys were being too loud or the ringer wasn’t on while he was loading a truck—either way, you hated bothering him. But also, as always, he never missed your calls.
“Hey, sweet girl,” Bucky greeted, a slight pant to his breath. “Everything okay?”
You gnawed on your lower lip, choosing your words carefully under Greta’s stare. “Hey, Buck. Everything’s fine. I was just wondering if you could maybe pick me up? Greta wants me to go home.”
A silent pause.
“She wants me to… drive you home?”
You shot your eyes to the ceiling, expecting the questions but hating them. The library was within walking distance to your house; there was absolutely no need to drive. Apparently, there was no getting out of this one.
“Yeah, I’m… well I’m just not feeling the best so she—”
“You’re sick?” Bucky interrupted. And you expected annoyance. You expected a huff and an unseen eye roll. What you didn’t expect was the quick, “Let me grab my truck. I’ll be up in a few minutes, okay? Sit tight, sweet girl. I love you.”
The line beeped before you could tell him there was no rush, that you would be fine sitting at the library all day if that’s what needed to happen. But as you sat on the stool and felt your body resist the medicine you took too many hours ago, you were grateful that he was on his way. Because the chills were starting up again, and the nausea. And your immune system must’ve been mad at you for walking to work in the snow because when you finally heard Bucky’s truck on the street, your head started pounding as well.
Your eyes were drooping shut when you felt him touch you, his cool hand easing the burn of your cheek. “Hey, sweet girl, you okay to walk to the car?”
You leaned into him as his presence loomed over you, your forehead pressing into his chest until his hand had to leave your cheek to rest on the back of your head instead. It felt better already—everything. The smell of Bucky and the coolness that still lingered on his clothes from the outside air combined to fill you with a comfort you so longed for when you felt like this. One that you never got back home.
“She been like this all morning?” Bucky asked over your head, his fingers lacing through your hair, his brows coming together in concern.
“Yes. Too headstrong for her own good. Don’t let her come back until she feels better. I don’t want sickness around the books.”
Bucky hummed, the sound resonating in every inch of your brain. You would have been content like this: sleeping against his chest as he rubbed comfort into your back, propped on a stool and lost to the world. But then he leaned away from you and you just about cried at the loss of contact, your body aching and tired.
“I know, doll, but I gotta get you home,” he comforted, leaning down to catch your gaze. He placed a hand on your forehead. “We need to get your fever down and get some food in you. I’m sure Alpine’ll help.”
“I tripped over her this morning,” you mumbled, letting Bucky guide you up from the stool and help you into your jacket.
“She’ll forgive you.”
“I hope so.”
He chuckled, keeping firm hands on your waist as you walked blearily to the door. “Promise she will.” He leaned down to press his lips to your overheated cheek, his grip fidgeting when you stumbled over your own steps. “You gonna be okay? I can take you straight to the clinic instead. Make sure it’s not something serious.”
The winter air hit you then, the library door jingling shut behind the two of you as Bucky hurried you to the car. But you still huffed out, “No, don’t inconvenience yourself. It’s just a little cold, Buck. I’m—fine.”
He ignored you for a moment, buckling you into the truck when your fingers lost their coordination. He swiftly yanked the beanie from his head and placed it on your own, letting his hand slide behind your neck after he did so. The pressure felt nice on your aching joints; the pads of his fingers were firm and sweet and directed you to meet his gaze.
“Never an inconvenience, sweet girl. Let me take care of you.” Followed by lips by your hairline.
You fell asleep before you even heard the truck start. You woke up wrapped around a man that seemed to show you, every day, how much you were wrong about the world.
If you've been following me for a while you know how this goes but for people who don't:
Send in no more than three prompts!
Give me a little concept if necessary with your prompts.
Reader description is allowed(race, ethnic, culture...) if there isn't a reader description I'll make the fics like I always make them
please be patient with me cuz I do write slow
Please don't ignore my close or open sign for the prompt list
People I write for here(ignore that closed and open stuff)
Please enjoy <3
Prompt list open | closed
you got me flowers?
seeing you happy is all that matters.
nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time!
good morning, sleeping beauty.
here we are, home sweet home.
Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting
I want you to be proud of yourself. I want you to believe that you’re good enough because you are. You’re so amazing.
Stop moving! I’m going to have to start counting all over again!
"can we wait a second? i wanna take a picture of you right now."
"who let you look so cute today?"
"am i your favorite?" "i like your dog a bit more than you, i won't lie."
"mcDonald's is open, wanna go get some chicken nuggets?" "it's 3 in the morning." "and?" "let's go."
"getting sleepy, aren't we?"
"i'm gonna hang up now, kay?" "wait...no."
"we're here, come on."
❝ can i stay with you tonight? i don’t wanna go home yet. ❞
“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”
finding their lover asleep on the couch, pushing their hair off their forehead, pressing a kiss to their skin, and carrying them to bed.
accidentally saying “i love you” too early, but the other pulls them in for a kiss and says it back.
helping their lover out of their clothes and into their pajamas/washing off makeup and taking their hair down after a night of drinking.
"i'm sad and i demand cuddles."
"your hands are warm..."
Person B being dazzled by Person A's 'pregnancy glow'
talking to the baby through the belly and telling them how excited they already are
Person B trying to teach the baby their first words and Person A is rolling their eyes because the baby is still much too small
“I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You are so important to me, you are such a big part of my life, that I just...I can’t imagine you not here.”
“Have you put his/her sunscreen on?”
“It’s three o’clock in the morning!”
“He/She’s so tiny.”
“You look so good with my hands around your neck.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot.”
“You’re not going out dressed like that”
“Can you feel what you're doing to me”
“ive never wanted to fuck someone as badly as i want to fuck you rn”
“were you masturbating?”
“would you like to go somewhere a little private”
"don't be shy now, sit on my face."
“here’s my hotel room number.”
want me to model these for you?
I’m hard // Sounds like a personal problem
Can you help me with this zipper?
“where should i fuck you? your choice.”
you’re sitting next to each other at a group dinner and they have one hand under the table caressing your inner thigh "You better eat quick because I'm not sure I can wait"
maybe you two are in a guests bathroom or somewhere in public"I need you to stay silent, babe. You don't wanna make a scene do you?"
“I’ve never done this before”
“I love it when you moan my name”
“Don’t be gentle”
“has anyone told you that your eyes sparkle in the moonlight?”
"surprise! we've been needing some alone time lately, today's the perfect occasion so let's go do something fun"
I just. my heart is so sad for Ukraine. If I have any Ukrainian followers reading this, I really hope you and your loved ones are safe and well and that everything is resolved with minimal bloodshed.
SUMMARY you storm out the house after a fight with tommy
REQUEST “ I love your writing! I was wondering if you could write an angsty tommy imagine where him and the reader get into a fight and the reader goes away from him and he can’t bear it so he finds her and it ends all fluffy ❤️🥰”
WARNINGS angst, fluff
WORD COUNT 1278
A/N this takes place at arrow house but not in a specific season. also this was kinda rushed so i hope i still did the request justice💛
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Verbix - This site conjugates verbs, because English is a weird language.
Graviax - This grammar checker is much more comprehensive than Microsoft Word, again, because English is a weird language.
Sorry for how short this is! I wanted to only include things I genuinely find useful. p>
The morning in Arrow house was nice and quiet for once in a long time. The children, Charles, Athena and Vincent were out spending some time in nature with their beloved aunt Polly. Frances, your maid, was also told to take a day off on the orders of Tommy.
Your bedroom faced towards the back of the house, making it perfect for the sunlight to seep in through the windows and cast its morning rays onto both you and Tommy. You moved your body towards him and just observe. Thomas Shelby was one beautiful man, that anyone could vouch for. In the mornings though, that was a scene only you got to admire.
His mouth was slightly agape, hair messy and his body cocooned in the blanket like a small child. His eyelashes sat delicately on his cheekbones. God you were so jealous of his lashes, he had the most perfect lashes you'd ever seen. Meeting him was by chance. You stumbled on each other in London where Thomas was for business and you for work.
You found it funny how on summer nights when the room becomes too stuffy for sweaty bodies to be pressed against one another, Tommy tells you to stay at a distance because it's too hot. Yet when you wake up, Tommy is curled up next to you, leg thrown over your hip and his head buried in your neck sleeping soundly like a little boy. Like how a young boy would cling to his mother.
He shifted a bit and you snapped back into reality, he shifted to move towards you. Even in his sleep, he sought out the warmth that you emitted. You smiled and basked in the silence of the morning, the only sounds to be heard was the nature outside.
It's mornings like these that make you miss the hustle and bustle of Small Heath, but it's also the type to make you so grateful for everything that you have. Your husband put everything on the line to get to where you are now.
He shifted once again, this time letting out a small groan at being woken up by the fresh sunlight that was streaming through a crack in the curtains. Thomas turned up and looked at you, and proceeded to bury himself back into the blankets. You snorted at that and then choked on the cigarette that you were smoking.
Thomas looked at you again and spoke " Are you okay? " his voice raspy from not being used for a while, you just smiled back at him. He rolled his eyes at your behaviour and tried going back to sleep, it was one of his off days and the kids weren't home. he was going to take this opportunity to be less stressed.
The two of you stayed in bed for a while, quite a long time really. Frances was surprised that the head of the house wasn't out and about before the sun even rose. Arrow house had quite a serene morning that day.
