#You don’t see me living in a dark closet and by this time tomorrow back in an abusive house | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arachine · 1 year

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. . . 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

— pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

general tags: college! au, established relationship, fluff, suggestive

content warnings: period cramps, reader is a baby, ellie is patient, kissing, allusions to sex, brief mention of dealer!ellie + not proofread and also not my best work bc i was in pain !

note: this is super self-indulgent bc i am, unfortunately, on my monthly, and so, i am making it everyone’s problem >.<

ellie’s annoyed. actually, she’s concerned—maybe, slightly, kind of more than that too, but right now, she’s annoyed. this wasn’t like you—not answering messages, not answering calls.

she’d understand it if you were busy, especially since finals season was steadily approaching as the days passed, but she knew you didn’t have any plans today. that much was confirmed the last time she’d spoken to you, which was, if she could recall (she could recall it perfectly), last night at 8:00 p.m.

future wife 👰‍♀️: gn baby, see you tomorrow for breakfast! get some sleep ok? <33

ellie: alr goodnight baby. i’ll come get you at 9 ok? don’t oversleep this time, wanna get some french toast before all the athletes take it :/

future wife 👰‍♀️: never gonna let me live it down, huh?

ellie: never!

future wife 👰‍♀️: god alr, i won’t oversleep!!! promise :3 now gn fr this time!!! gts!!!

ellie: ok bossy i’m going to sleep 🫡 love you

that was the last message she’d sent to you that night. this morning, however, she made an effort to send you a slew of follow-up texts before making her way over to your dorm:

ellie: good morning sexy, you up?

ellie: it’s french toast time ☝🏻

ellie: don’t tell me you’re sleeping…

there was five minutes sent in-between each message, and yet, still no response. that’s when she got the bright idea to call.

“alright, this should wake her up,” she raised the phone to her ear, pacing around her apartment while waiting for the line to go through. to her dismay, it rung a few times before going straight to voicemail—to which she almost got excited over because you’ve got one of those annoying ass voicemails that sound like someone picked up the line.

“hey […], this is (name). sorry you can’t reach me right now, but leave a message and i’ll get back to you as soon as i c—”

“fucking hell.” ellie pinches the knot between her brows and sighs, ending the call before voicemail you can finish your sentence. again, she calls, thinking this time you’ll answer, but to no avail. it goes right to voicemail.

“the fuck…” she doesn’t even bother leaving a message. beelines right to her closet and grabs her sneaks, a hoodie, and her wallet, then heads out of her apartment building and begins the trek to your dormitory.

when she gets there, she buzzes in with her student keycard, and pads right up to the security desk. just as she’s about to open her mouth, one of the guards sitting interrupts her.

“can i see your proof of residence, please?” he says blankly, raising a fig bar up to his mouth.

“randy, really? you know me, i’m here almost every other day—just without my girlfriend—who i’m actually here to see,” she raises a finger, forearms leaning forward over the desk. randy feigns indifference, and opts to stuff the last of his bar in his mouth.

“you’re not a resident here, ellie. sorry, but you know the rules.”

“how about you shove the rules up your a—actually, that’s alright. my buddy right here will sign me in as a guest.” she grins devilishly at the dark haired man across the lobby, blinking once, twice, before flashing him a smile.

“jesse! my life saver, my best-friend, my messiah, my—“

“what do you want, ellie?” he rolls his eyes, pulling out his student keycard to flash randy. ellie purses her lips as if she’s been found out, then pulls jesse aside by the cloth of his jacket. she leans in real close so that what she says is out of earshot.

“sign me in as a guest and i’ll give you free weed during your next visit,” she bargains, wiggling her brows like she knows the offer is too good to pass up. jesse doesn’t answer her right away. instead, opts to tease her. puts his index finger on his chin, and opens his stance as if he’s really mulling it over. ellie’s not impressed.

a beat, then, he shrugs, mumbling a quick ‘better keep your word williams’.

ellie grins, something real big and cheshire-like, because she knows him. who’d be stupid enough to pass up free weed? exactly, no one. especially not a stressed college student, that’s for sure.

“thanks man, you’re really doing me a solid, you know,” she pats his back, to which he mutters a knowing ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’. she watches intently as he signs her in under his name, then makes a face at randy when she hands over her student keycard for him to keep.

“see ya later rand’!” the auburn haired girl says with the flick of a hand, turning the corner of the desk to get to the elevators.

“yeah, whatever.”

. . .

once the elevator comes to a halt on your floor, ellie gives jesse a final thank you before departing. as she walks down the winding hallway, she can’t help but to think the worst. what if you were unconscious? what if you’d been axe-murdered? what if you’d been kidnapped? all very unlikely, she knows, but not impossible.

when her mind sifts through a few more frightening scenarios, she realizes she’s already made it to your door. should she knock? she feels like she should knock, but then she figures if all her previous attempts to wake you up were unsuccessful, then who’s to say a few measly knocks would do the trick?

she decides against it. instead, she unhooks her carabiner from her jeans and fiddles around with her set of keys until she finds the spare you’d given her. until now, she’d never used it. the day you’d given it to her, you’d told her it was strictly for ‘emergencies’, and what better time to use it than now? this was surely an emergency, right?

the door unlocks and she immediately goes to twist the knob, pushes the door open and then shuts it closed behind her.

“babe, you here?” she calls out, walking through the kitchen, “you alive?” turns down the hall, “you in one piece?”

a beat. silence—save for the heavy padding of her boots as she makes her way towards your bedroom. the door is cracked open, just by a sliver, but she can see—or at least somewhat make out—the beginnings of a sleeping silhouette.

she pushes the door open and ambles to your bedside. you were fast asleep. curled up into a tight little ball with the duvet pulled up to your chin, and a mean little pout on your lips. it was adorable, and it made ellie’s heart twang with relief. at least now that she was able to verify your safety, she could forget all those terrible thoughts that she was getting herself all worked up over.

“hey, sweet girl,” she cooed, brushing the pad of her thumb over your cheek. your brows cinched in response, but you didn’t move. not even an inch. “baby,” ellie drawled in a sing-song voice.

she let her hand fall from your cheek to your back, and she rubbed it in slow, steady circles in an attempt to rouse you. after a while of this—a combination of her rubbing and cooing—you started to react.

“mmm,” you groaned, curling your knees up higher, “it hurts.”

“what hurts? what’s wrong?” opening your eyes, you were able to pair the voice of concern with a familiar face.

“ellie? what are you doing here?”

she lets a small chuckle escape her lips, then raises a hand to rest atop your head.

“what am i doing here? what are you doing here? had me worried sick about you,” she smooths a hand over your head, “missed our breakfast date.”

sighing, you slap a clammy hand over your head, then reach over ellie to grab your phone from the nightstand.

ten messages. three missed calls.

“god, i’m sorry, bellie. took some midol and melatonin last night so that i could beat these cramps, but i guess they worked a little too good, huh?”

“yeah, you nut.” she takes a glance at your nightstand and picks up the bottle of pills, shakes them around before settling them back down. “how many did you take?”

“just two…maybe three?” ellie’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“three? babe, these are 500 mg. why would you do that? the bottle says take two every six hours, and here you are taking more than the recommended amount, on top of taking melatonin,” she chides, though, it’s more out of genuine concern than it is her actually being upset.

you laugh at your own expense, but it’s short-lived because a second later, you’re clutching for your belly and writhing in pain.

ellie sighs, kicks her boots off and fully climbs up onto the bed and under the covers. once she settles into a comfortable position, she pulls you into her side.

“i know, baby, let me take care of you,” she strokes your back soothingly, “but next time, please don’t take that much. were you planning on sleeping forever?”

“maybe.” you jest, snuggling further into her warmth. admittedly, mixing both of those drugs was kind of stupid—maybe really stupid, but in your defense, you were in pain!—and really desperate. when you have cramps this bad, sometimes death sounds like mercy.

“oh, yeah?” the laugh she lets out is a deep rumble, and you can feel the vibrations of it as you lay on her chest. it’s soothing. a remedy that you should’ve utilized sooner, and you would’ve, had you been in the right headspace.

“mhm…” you purr, looking up at her, at her lips. ellie scans your face for pain, then dips down and pilfers a kiss from your lips. it’s slow, and sweet, and ends far too soon for your liking. before she can pull away, you tug her by the collar of her shirt. look up at her with pleading eyes, and fist it tighter between your knuckles.

“more,” you drawl, pulling her back down to meet your lips. she indulges you, because of course she does, and pushes you onto your back.

“thought,” a kiss, “your,” another, “cramps were bothering you?” she queries, breathless as she holds herself up above your sprawled out body. she thumbs with the hem of your shirt, waits expectantly for you to answer.

“they are,” you say, “so why don’t you make ‘em go away?”

and what kind of girlfriend would she be if did otherwise?

#:: — LEXI WRITES !#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams fluff #ellie william x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams

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st7rnioioss · 2 months

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౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ arguments with bf!matt headcanons pt. 2

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: fluff, idk??😫 some are kiiind of suggestive, sorry i cant help it

a/n: hello hello, long awaited part 2😛 enjoy😇 i fell asleep btw HELP i’m so sorry i took so long

part 1

౨ৎ

- Wanting to sleep on the couch because you got into an argument? Not happening. Matt is picking you up when he’s sure you’re asleep, gently placing you in your shared bed, pulling you closer (angry cuddles - pt. 1). Even tho you’re still upset with each other, he’s not going to bed without you beside him.

- (suggestive!!) Matt noticed you had gotten jealous because he posted a picture with a past girlfriend. He’d laugh it off at first, laughing at your stern face, pulling you in to kiss you. He quickly made sure to show you how much he loves you. (as in spending the whole night in his room, making sure when you wake up tomorrow you’re sure he’s the only girl he could ever want).

- I can never imagine Matt fighting for real with his girlfriend. I feel like both of you would realise it was built up stress or tiredness and had nothing to do with each other. After yelling for a bit he’d pull you in for a hug, whispering ‘sorry’.

- (suggestive!!) If he’s cocky enough he’d have make-up sex with you. Soft, slow sex, whispering countless times how sorry he is and how much he loves you. He wouldn’t do this all the time as he prefers to talk it out. Getting to understand exactly what you’re feeling and why, and the other way around.

- Taking you on late night drives!! He’d pull you into the passenger seat even tho you protested, driving around town, maybe getting food, talking it out like this. You didn’t protest though, deep down this is one of your favourite ways to spend time with Matt.

- One time you had gotten so upset you left his house to go to your own, even tho you practically lived with the triplets. Friday rolled around, and Thursday night there was no car video recorded yet. Saturday morning you checked your phone, realising they hadn’t posted their Friday video. You got concerned, going to their house to find Nick and Chris in the living room.

‘Is everything alright? I noticed you guys didn’t post anything yesterday.’ you asked as you sat beside Nick, Chris looking up from his phone.

‘Yeah, Matt is fucking miserable. I don’t know, he said you guys got into an argument this Tuesday. He haven’t left bed.’ Chris mumbled, looking back down on his phone.

Immediately you sat up, finding Matt huddled up in his bed. There was dark, the curtains still shut, no light from his phone. You tiptoed closer, realising he was asleep. He looked peaceful, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Your clothes was in Matt’s closet, taking a hoodie and a pair of pyjamas pants to cuddle up against Matt’s back. He must’ve waken up, because he mumbled a low ‘is it you? y/n?’, turning his head.

‘Yeah, it’s me. I’m so so sorry, Matt.’ you smiled apologetically, caressing his cheek with your thumb. His expression softened, leaning in to kiss your lips.

‘God, I’ve missed that.’ he whispered, a smile tugging on his lips before he leaning in again.

- After having an episode like this (literally one time), he’d take you out the next day. You insisted it should be the other way around since you had been in the wrong, but Matt insisted on taking you (in reality he just wanted to be ‘friends again’).

- I CANT STOP MAKING SCENARIOS, BUT FOLLOW ALONG.

‘Matt, you’re annoying. Go away.’ I hissed, pushing Matt away from attempting to kiss me with a hand on his chest. I was keeping my gaze on my phone in front of me. I had moved to the couch after our tiny discussion.

‘Oh, come on. Are you still mad?’ Matt smirked, kind of amused by your reaction. It seemed like nothing to him, but you were pretending to be pissed.

‘You’re not funny. Move, I can’t see my phone.’ I pushed his head away. Matt stood up, looking at me for a second before returning to his room.

After a tiny hour, I felt my eyes getting droopy. It was scrolling mindlessly, my eyes half closed. I decided to stand up as my head was literally tilting to the side.

Almost falling over my own feet, I stumbled into Matt’s room, dropping to my knees onto his bed. ‘Someone changed their mind, hm?’ Matt teased, looking up from his phone.

‘Shut up.’ I mumbled, closing my eyes as my head hit his chest, cuddling up in his covers. I almost instantly fell asleep, the last thing I noticed being Matt turning off the light, pulling me closer with a kiss on the top of my head.

- If Matt had to leave early the next day after an argument, I’m so convinced he’d leave a small note or letter along with a flower (or two) on the kitchen counter

a/n: if you couldn’t tell, i was running out of ideas🤩

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost let me know if you'd like to be added!

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brokenpieces-72 · 25 days

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Repairing Bridges

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TW: gang stuff, past trauma, mentions of death, tell me if there is anything else.

Graves shifts in his chair in the dark of his apartment. He figured this day would come. The tv illuminated the small living space in harsh light. You were safe, he told himself. You told him as much. When he saw you turned off your location he considered texting you. Now he was glad he hadn’t.

Makarov was back. That monster was back and now Graves worked for him. He thought back to when you told him about getting jumped by a few officers. They were his, he could tell. You didn’t tell him, didn’t rat them out. He’d asked them to keep an eye on you while you were having a week to yourself. In that time, he had kept checking up on you. It wasn’t just for you to report to him but to see you were safe. He kept it professional not wanting to get too attached, and vice versa. Losing his partner was bad enough, but he wasn’t about to lose his partner’s kid too.

With you gone and somewhere not even he knew, there was less to worry about. Now he needed to figure out his own next steps. Time would tell for now. Maybe he would take some long vacation, but Makarov was thorough. Could he trust his own officers, after they hurt you?

He switched over the channel not wanting to see the man’s face. The tv continued playing, as he got up, to get a drink for himself. Day off tomorrow. He had a little more than 48 hours. Graves texted Alex. Wouldn’t be surprised if Alex already knew but Farah would need to know as well. Then he thought about Price. Price would already know by now, word would spread to other gangs like the Los Vaqueros easily enough.

As he took more sips of his drink the memories came back. Ones he told himself he wouldn’t let bother him. Makarov’s words of warning, your father’s body, Price’s glare, Soap holding him against the wall… and your scared, sad face full of tears after he had to tell you your dad wouldn’t be coming home again. He blamed himself, wishing he had stepped in, stopped your father, done something either in that moment or before.

Graves texts you.

You didn’t see the text until the next morning. You got up, asked Simon who was already up if you could have a shower.

“I’m not your parent.” He replies. “There’s a towel in your closet though.”

After the shower you come back out, and find Simon crouched in front of black cat eating at some leftover tuna. It’s interesting to see Ghost in a much more calm state. You hadn’t seen him in action but you’d heard he could be lethal, sending more than a few cops to the hospital. Now here he was in dark jeans, a black hoodie and the same scarf over half his face from last night, petting a scrawny feline, who wasn’t intimidated at all.

“Are they yours?” You ask trying to keep your voice down. When you left the bathroom, you could make out snoring in another room. Didn’t want to wake anyone.

“Seen her a few times. People don’t like black cats, so they try to get rid of them.” He says, scratching the cat between the ears. The cat raised its head, welcoming the scratches. When Simon stopped the cat circled him rubbing up against his legs. “Cats don’t get to choose what they look like… owners don’t deserve to be cruel.” He adds in. Simon stood up and turned to you, seeing clean clothes. Black pants, baggie hoodie, a white tshirt. Your wet hair was covered by your beanie, and you already had your red scarf on.

Both of you stand there in awkward silence. Simon’s feline friend was still rubbing against his leg and purring.

“Hungry?” He asks finally.

“Kind of.” You say. Ghost shakes his head. He could understand you being weary still, he wasn’t exactly a bunny rabbit.

“Diner across the street does take out. Ask them what the price is for breakfast. Get yourself something too. You got money?” He asks. You nod, getting your shoes on with another word, taking your card and phone in your back pockets.

Once you get outside into the cold winter morning, your phone buzzes. You check it and find a text from Graves. One sent last night and the other just now.

G: Keep your location off.

G: We need to talk.

You stare at the text message while you walk through the alley, to get to the diner. Your steps are slow as you try to decide what to text back with.

Y/N: getting breakfast right now.

G: Take it back to your place.

G: or where you’re staying.

Y/N: why what’s going on?

G: is anyone with you?

Y/N: not right now.

G: staying with you?

Y/N: Why?

G: Tell me.

Y/N : Tell me why!

You weren’t about to let him get away without giving you answers. You finally reach the diner, and repeat what Ghost told you to, while ordering something for yourself. While you wait at the counter, you look around the quiet mostly empty diner. You notice a larger man in a booth staring at you. At first you turn to look in the same direction he is, then back at him. Definitely staring at you. Keeping your hands in your pockets you look back at him. Two can play at this game. He scoffs after a bit of you both staring.

“Can I help you?” You ask with some attitude. He scoffs again finally looking away. You take a moment to pull out your phone and snap a photo of the guy. Thankfully your food comes and you’re able to leave. Something about his stare made you uncomfortable, like he was sizing you up. You take a longer route back to the hideout. Couldn’t hurt to be safe.

By the time you arrive Soap is up with a coffee in hand, and at the bar counter of the kitchen. You close the door behind you and set the food on the counter, before sitting next to Soap at the bar. You take out your own container with your breakfast inside, and start eating while Soap gets his. You notice three containers remain. Ghost retrieved his and Gaz emerges from the hall way. Soap is wearing the same clothes as last night, while Gaz just changed his shirt.

“Last one for the cat?” You ask, through mouthful of food.

“Still feeding it?” Soap chimes in, while Ghost rolls his eyes.

“He’ll be here soon.” Gaz says.

“It’s a girl.” You say, thinking you’re still discussing the cat. Only when the door to the unit open do you realize what Gaz meant. Price walks in wearing a long coat. You notice he seems rushed as he takes his jacket off, and makes his way to the kitchen. He gives a quick and curt morning, before getting his breakfast. He too seems to be wearing similar clothes from yesterday. Off white shirt and faded pants.

Ghost is staring, his container hardly touched. He’s watching Price as he looks up and back at him. Price’s eyes look to you, and you look away to take out your phone. You look back to see a silent conversation happening between the two bosses.

Price keeps moving his eyes to the floor while Ghost’s body language goes tense. Ghost clenches a fist, body now facing more to Price and away from you. Ghost shakes his head before pouring a cup of coffee for Price.

“What’s wrong?” You finally ask. Gaz hops up on to the other side of the counter you and Soap are seated at. Price sips the dark coffee sighing, and looking at you.

“Before I answer, I need to know how much you understand about your father.” He says. Before the case you would have said you understood everything. Now though… you weren’t as sure as before.

“I know he did things for good reasons. Trusted you guys.” Not much else you could say.

“Do you trust us?” Price asks, folding his arms and leaning against the counter behind him, staring at you. There was still so much they hadn’t told you. It would take time for you to get the answers that made sense. For now, you didn’t have much of a choice.

“Yes.” You say. There’s a hint of uncertainty in your voice but Price wasn’t about to be picky.

“…Makarov is back in town, and he’s got his old position.” Price says. Everyone freezes in place going dead silent. You’re confused. You didn’t know who Makarov was. The name felt familiar though. Maybe something you heard in passing.

“Unfucking believable.” Soap says.

“News report was last night.” Price confirms.

“Who’s Makarov?” You ask a little nervous now.

“Mafia, has his dirty lil’ fingers everywhere.” Johnny says.

“And he’s the former police commissioner.” Ghost adds. You fidget in your seat. More questions but those could be addressed later.

“What about Milena and Nolan?” Gaz asks. Great more names you were in the dark about. Well, Milena’s you’ve heard before, she’s a businesswoman and socialite. There has been some small rumours about her and her late partners, but no one seemed to pay it any mind.

“More than likely.” Price said. “Alex, Farah and the Los Vaqueros have been made aware and to lay low for now. Don’t need Nolan getting set on anyone until we know what’s going on.”

“What does he look like?” You ask. When you get a loose description you unlock your phone and show Johnny the man you saw at the diner.

“Steamin Jesus…” he says, while Kyle leans back getting a look at the photo. You hold it up to Simon and John. John straightens and comes over to take your phone and get a better look.

“How long ago was this?” He asks.

“Maybe an hour or two by now. Took a longer way to get back just in case. He kept staring at me.” You explain.

“You see him again, you tell us but don’t go near him if you can.” Price orders. You nod and he looks at his everyone in the room. “Right here’s the deal. Makarov is back and he’s gonna have something planned, underground shit and we need to keep our eyes open so nothing goes unnoticed. We need to expose anything and everything he does or is connected to, I don’t care how hare-brained.”

“Yes sir.” Was said by everyone including you. You swore you saw the corner of Price’s mouth turn up for a moment to a smile. Loyalty. If there’s one thing Price had it was that.

Then your phone buzzes in Price’s hand. He notices the name but makes no comment as he hands it back to you. You check the name, and excuse yourself, getting you boots on and stepping outside.

You answer it just before it goes to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? We need to talk.” You hear Graves on the other end. He sounds tired, and nervous.

“Yeah what is it?” You answer, trying to keep your hesitation out of your voice.

“I mean in person. Are you able to meet with me, or have you skipped town?”

“No no… I’m just uh… sorry was just eating breakfast. What’s wrong?”

There’s a long pause in the other end. For a moment you wonder if the signal is lost. Then you hear a sigh.

“Y/N… there’s a lot I’ve got to tell you. In person. When can you meet?” He asks.

“Couple hours maybe?” You say uneasy.

“I’ll send you my location. Come alone.” He instructs before hanging up. You pop your head back into the apartment. Everyone looks at you from the kitchen.

“Can someone give me a ride?”

Rudolfo helped Alejandro back into their hide out, both of them exhausted and bloodied. They expected some resistance during their shipment raid but not that high.

Rudolfo gets Alejandro into a chair before making his way carefully and slowly to the first aid kit.

“You broken Hermano?” Alejandro asks. Rudolfo almost chuckles. Man was nearly on a his death bed, and asking him if he was okay.

“More intact than you.” Rudolfo says, focusing on the injuries. Alejandro, still running on adrenaline gives a large grin, chuckling painfully. His mind was racing and clouded at the same time. The shipment was a big one but holy hell, the amount of security, and their weapons… he’d seen swat teams less armed.

Rudolfo helps him get his jacket off, to a bloodied white tank top underneath. Rudolfo assesses the damage before getting up and going to the bridge, giving Alejandro a strong bottle of liquor. Full the pain now. He winced himself feeling a couple of casings in his arm. Alejandro had taken the brunt of it though.

“You think that little cop told them?” Alejandro wonders aloud.

“Not likely. They haven’t talked to us. Unless Soap has told them something.” Rudolfo says, starting to tend to the bullet wounds.

“Or we have yet to be told something.” Alejandro speculates.

Kyle gives you a ride to the address you’re given, parking some distance away. He’s insistent on coming with you but you’re firm. No one comes with you.

You meet Graves by a river, with small boulders along the edge. Near the shore of the river you see Graves pacing. Thinking back there was never a time you could recall of Graves sitting still. He’s wearing casual clothes, along with a coat and leather gloves. Looks nervous too. Slowly you make your way down to him. As you get closer, he looks up hearing you approach. You don’t look up at him until you reach the shore focused more on your footing.

Then he hugs you. It’s a protective one, a relieved one like you just came out of the hospital. You squirm out of it, feeling annoyed. He was giving you shit not that long ago, and now he was acting all protective? Yeah no, he didn’t get to do that without talking.

“You okay? You’re safe?” He asks. You nod.

“What do you want?” You ask him, wanting to get this over with. Graves shifts a little looking around.

“How much time you got?” He asks.

“If this is some bull shit to get me beat up again-“

“That wasn’t supposed to happen!” He says.

“Wasn’t suppose-the hell does that mean?!” You demand.

“Y/N, a lot has happened and a shit ton is about to happen, so can you please just-”

“No.”

“What?!”

“No, you need to tell me what the hell is going on and what has been going on! I was nearly beaten to death by a bunch of blues, and out of nowhere you want to meet in private. Tell me what the fuck is going on!” You tell him. You’re done. You want answers and Graves clearly had some. He looks down at his feet. Wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or proud of your backbone.

“I asked some of my buddies down at the precinct to check in on you, that was it, and only it.” He says, firmly. You cross your arms. “When you told me about them attacking you, I was pissed off.”

“You knew about dad and the 141?” It was hardly a question. Graves solemnly nods.

“Why the fuck was I put on this case then?!” You ask. “I was going to find out.”

“…because I hoped you would be the key to bringing your dad back.” Graves admits.

“What…?”

“Your father opened up cases we couldn’t get access to because of warrants and policies and laws. If it weren’t for your father there are cases we would never have looked into. We needed that again. The 141 don’t trust me, but they would trust you. When you told me you wanted off the case, I realized I screwed up, you weren’t ready. I was worried about you still, but didn’t want to risk tipping off the gangs that we knew each other.” He explains.

“…you were using my dad’s name basically.” You said not wanting to show any empathy. “So what changed? Why are you telling me this now?”

“…your father’s killer is the new chief commissioner.” He puts bluntly.

It’s like a big rock was thrown at your chest. You knew Makarov was back…you didn’t know he killed your father. Graves kept that from you. Makarov was mafia, maybe he was paid. Did the 141 know? This was almost too much and you felt yourself running out of air, the world spinning around you. Suddenly Graves is holding you up by your shoulders leading you to a rock to sit on.

Graves helps you through your sudden attack, helping you breath and keeping you from passing out. Naming your surroundings by your senses while you fight the memories. You weren’t there when he died. Graves came to you one night while you were home alone. You greeted him at the door with hug around his waist. Usually he would gently peel you off of him, but on this night he got on his knees and hugged you when you came over to him. When you asked him where your father was, he nearly broke down himself. You remembered him hugging you and picking you up to take up to bed, and asking the same question.

“You doing better…” he asks finally. You take deep breath and nod your head.

“I promised your father I would look out for you… encouraging you to be a cop meant you would stay under Makarov’s radar and no one would go after you. Makarov left I thought that would be the end, but it wasn’t, he’s back now, and I have to keep you safe, do you understand.”

“No.”

“Y/N-“

“I’m not running away… I’m not going to be a cop either. You can’t keep me out of it anymore. I’m a fucking adult, I’m not a child.”

“I made a promis-“

“I’m in this now! I’m not running from it!” You yell at him. Graves sighs, frustrated.

“…where are you staying?” He asks.

“None of your business.” You say crossing your arms. Graves is starting to get fed up with your attitude. He almost chuckles, giving you a smile.

“You’re right it’s not.” He confesses. “Do me a favour then. Adult to adult.”

“Sure.” You shrug.

“Stay safe. Now I don’t need to know what you’re doing, in fact the less I know the better. Keep me semi-posted. Made a promise to keep you safe to your dad before he passed. I can’t stop you from being your own person. Should have known that day one of meeting you, but be careful. Makarov has his hands in a lot of places, and I’ll be on a leash. If I try leaving who knows what will happen. Can at least try to keep the others in check.”

“Got it.” You say. There’s silence with only the rushing water to fill it. He sits down next to you on the rock, thinking of how to change the subject.

“Saw the mural you made on Soap’s Turf.” He says, over the rushing water. “Shit you are talented with a spray can. Should never have told you to change, could’ve made a good life for yourself.”

“I have one now.” You tell him. “One with good friends.”

“You need any of your stuff out of the apartment? Dropped off or anything?” He offers.

“Could probably go pick it up now, before I head back.” You say.

“It’s my day off.” He mentions. “If you really want we can get something to eat, give you one day of normalcy before shit hits the fan. Show me the other murals.”

“I have one I still need to make… got interrupted the last time, think I owe them one.” You exclaim.

“Think you could do it tomorrow?” He asks.

“I should start it today… but I could eat first.” You know Graves is going through it to, whether it’s his own fault or not. Graves while not the best father figure, was there for you. He was there for your dad. In the end he was still the one who stood up for you in precinct. You wanted to give him some normality before you both parted ways.

“Let the gang know we may be a bit. Otherwise I think Gaz will be sitting and waiting in that car for some time.” Graves says standing up. You watch him slowly climb the boulders back to the top where the road was. You follow after him after texting Gaz you would be going with Graves for a bit.

Graves is nice enough to drop you off at your apartment and let you grab a couple things, including your art supplies. Then he takes you to a specific location.

There you get to work on the mural you had offered the Los Voqueros. Bridges need to be remade and rebuilt. They may not be the most sturdy, but it was simply a matter of creating more support.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y_l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies

#john soap mactavish #cod au #task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #gn reader #phillip graves #cod gangster au #gangster au #it’s back #been working hard #thank you for enjoying my stuff

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suddencolds · 4 months

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The Worst Timing | [2/?]

happy (late) new year :') after a month (and a lot of editing and dissatisfaction), i am back with part 2 of the 'yves has had too easy of a time' series (6.4k words). you can read [part 1] here!

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I've written w these two!

Summary: Yves invites Vincent to a wedding, in France, where the rest of his family will be in attendance. It's a very important wedding, so he's definitely not going to let anything—much less the flu—ruin it. (ft. fake dating, an international trip, downplaying illness, sharing a hotel room)

—

When they get to the hotel Aimee’s booked for them, it’s already late enough to be dark out. Yves helps unload their suitcases from the back, while Leon loads them up onto a luggage cart.

It’s an exceptionally nice hotel—picturesque brick walls, glossy windows all in a row, slanted red rooftops rising up into the sky. He’d looked at it briefly when Aimee consulted him about the bookings, but it looks even more like a castle in person, like something straight out of a storybook. Yves will have to remember to thank Aimee and Genevieve again for picking such a nice place for them to stay at.

They check in at the lobby. Yves makes sure the suitcases make their way up to Leon and Victoire’s room, which is on his and Vincent’s floor, but at the other end of the hallway. (“Don’t be late to breakfast tomorrow,” he tells them, sternly, and Leon—who has slept through his alarms for as long as Yves has lived with him—laughs. “I’m especially talking to you,” Yves adds, looking straight at him).

Then he wheels the luggage cart down the hallway. “I’m so ready to crash,” he says, to Vincent. “It’s been a long day. Are you tired?”

“I’ll be tired once I lay down,” Vincent says. He carefully extricates one of the key cards and holds it out to the door card reader.

The interior of the hotel room is a little colder than the hallway is. Vincent flicks on the light, slips the key card back into its designated slot, and leaves his shoes in a neat line at the door. Yves follows him in.

Their room is a standard suite—there’s a small sitting area just next to the entrance, a bathroom off to the side, and a door frame—though not a proper door—which leads to the bedroom. On the far end, translucent white curtains give way to a sliding door which opens up to the balcony. It’s a nice room, Yves thinks, with a nice view of the rest of the hotel, its pool and gardens, the circular sun umbrellas stretching out floors below them. It’s only when Vincent hesitates, standing in the bedroom, that Yves realizes what’s wrong.

The bedroom has a singular queen-sized bed, and nothing else.

Of course. It makes sense for this to be the living arrangement, if they’re really dating.

“I can take the couch,” Yves says, clearing his throat, which doesn’t feel any better than it did earlier.

Vincent turns to look at him.

“I mean, this whole pretend-relationship thing doesn’t have to extend to us sharing a bed.”

Mentally, he kicks himself for not having the foresight to predict this. Just because Vincent is fine with putting on a show in front of his friends—and in this case, family—doesn’t mean that Vincent will be fine sharing a bed with him when they’re in private.

“You can have the bed,” Vincent says. “The bed will probably be warmer.”

Whether that’s a comment about how Yves has been too cold all day, or whether it’s just an offhanded appraisal which has nothing to do with him, Yves doesn’t know.

“It’s fine,” Yves says. “I don’t mind the sofa. Besides, hotels usually have extra blankets. I’m sure they’re just hidden in some drawer somewhere.”

He rummages through a few of the cabinets and looks through the closet until he finds what he’s looking for—a feather comforter, folded neatly on the top shelf. He takes it down, keeping it folded under his arm.

“See,” he says, flashing Vincent a smile. “I’ll be perfectly warm, like this.” Vincent still looks a little unconvinced. “You should wake me if you’re not,” he says. “I don’t mind switching.”

“Duly noted,” Yves says, even though he has no intention of waking Vincent for any reason.

“The couch probably extends into a pull-out bed,” Vincent says, already heading back into the living room. “It should be more comfortable. I can help you set it up.”

“I can do it,” Yves says. All this talking is not helping with his throat. Worse, somewhere over the course of the past couple hours, there’s a faint tickle that’s managed to settle into his sinuses.

“It’s the least I can do, if I’m taking the bed,” Vincent says.

Yves is about to say more, but he finds that he really needs to sneeze. He lifts his arm to his face, his eyes watering, his breath hitching—

“Hh-! hHehh’IIZSCHh-IIEW!”

“Bless you,” Vincent calls, from the next room over.

“Thanks,” Yves says, turning into his shoulder with a small cough. His breath hitches again, irritatingly. “hHeh-! HEHH’IiITSHHiEW! snf-!”

When he heads into the living room, Vincent is already almost done setting up the pull-out bed. Yves helps him lock down the legs of the frame.

“Thanks,” Yves says, fluffing out the blanket he’s holding so that he can lay it out over the mattress. “All set up.”

He looks the bed over. It looks inviting enough—a little smaller than the bed in the bedroom, the mattress thinner, but fluffy and clean regardless. Vincent steps past him to duck into the bedroom and emerges a moment later, carrying two pillows.

“Are these your pillows?” Yves says.

“They’re yours now.”

“I can sleep without pillows.”

“They gave me two sets, anyways,” Vincent says. “I wouldn’t have made use of these ones.”

“Okay.” Tentatively, Yves takes a seat at the edge of the mattress. From the doorway, he gets a limited view of the bedroom—he can see the curtains at the far end, the desk pushed up against the wall, and the very foot of the bed. “Do you think this is what couples do when they’re traveling and they get in a fight?”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Vincent asks.

“It might as well be,” Yves says.

“If your family walks in and sees that I’ve banished you to the sofa, I don’t think I’ll ever be forgiven,” Vincent says, so seriously that it almost doesn’t register as a joke. Yves laughs.

“You can just say I snore,” he says. “Or, worse. Maybe I kick you in my sleep.”

“Do you?”

Yves doesn’t—at least, he’s been told he doesn’t—but it’s of no consequence. They’re not going to be sharing a bed. “Luckily for you, you won’t have to find out.”

He gets settled—sets his suitcase out on one of the side tables, sets out all his toiletries in the bathroom, puts the clothes he’s planning to wear for tomorrow in a neat stack, and hangs up the suit he’s going to wear for the wedding in the closet. He’d been careful folding it, but he’ll probably have to give it another good iron before the wedding date. By the time he has everything accounted for, the bathroom door is closed, and the shower’s running.

The hotel has left them a couple bottles of water on the nightstand but he heads downstairs to buy a couple more from the on-site convenience store on the first floor. Victoire had them exchange dollars for euros at the airport, which Yves thinks he might have forgotten to do in their haste. Even though she’s the youngest of the three of them, sometimes he thinks she is the one with the most common sense.

He strikes up a brief conversation with the cashier, in French that he thinks is fairly fluent but probably accented—it’s been awhile since he’s gotten any practice with it. His speaking is good, but there are some colloquialisms and some idioms that he’s not familiar with and ends up having to ask about.

By the time he gets back up to the bedroom, bottled waters in hand, Vincent is done showering, his hair still a little damp.

“I got us extra waters,” Yves says. “There’s a convenience store down on the first floor.”

“Oh,” Vincent says. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.” He looks nice, even with his hair damp, even though he’s wearing just a t-shirt and shorts to sleep, Yves thinks, and then immediately tables that thought.

“It was nice to stretch my legs,” Yves says. “And nice to have a chance to practice my French. My relatives are going to be disappointed in me if I sound worse than I did last year.”

“Are you fluent?”

“Fluent enough to hold a proper conversation. Not fluent enough to not sound like a foreigner. I grew up speaking French and English, but obviously in the states, there aren’t as many opportunities to practice French.”

“I don’t think you would have lost much of it,” Vincent says, as if from experience.

Yves laughs. “For my own sake, let’s hope not.”

When he steps into the bathroom, the mirror is still fogged up from the steam. He swipes a hand over the glass to clear enough of it so that he can see.

He looks fine, still, at least outwardly—a little tired, maybe, if the dark circles under his eyes are anything to go by. There’s a faint flush to his complexion, too, which is strange, because he doesn’t feel like he has a fever. He’s just a little colder than usual, is all.

All in all, he still looks passable. At first glance, it doesn’t seem very evident that anything is wrong at all.

He takes a shower, cranks the water up until it’s almost scalding, and stands under the hot water, shutting his eyes. The warmth is a welcome change. It’s the first time today that he’s been really, properly warm—if only because he’s turned the water up a couple degrees higher than he usually has it at.

The water splashes over his shoulders. He leans his head back, taking in a deep breath of the steam.

It’s fine. It will be fine. He’ll drink tons of water, take all the vitamin C he can find, and sleep this off tonight. He’ll be good as new tomorrow.

—

When Yves blinks awake, it’s still dark out.

The first thing that registers to him is that he’s cold.

What started off as a slight headache has turned into something much worse—his head is throbbing, and even with the blanket, he’s freezing. The air conditioning in the room is on—he can hear the low hum of it through the vents—and everything feels unbearably frigid. Even the bedsheets, which are at the very least warm from his body heat, seem to always be losing heat, unpleasantly, when he shifts.

When he checks his phone, the time onscreen is 3:45 am. Too late to call the front desk and ask them to send up more blankets, probably—even if they are technically in operation, he doesn’t want to be that one asshole to ask for a favor at this time of day.

He’ll ask tomorrow, he thinks, at a more reasonable hour. It’s almost morning, anyways. Maybe if he manages to get back to sleep, he won’t feel the cold as much.

There’s a dull pressure to his sinuses, a slight tickle that seems only to sharpen as he rubs his nose. His breath catches, too quickly for him to do anything to attend to the subsequent—

“Hheh—! hHEHH’iISHHhi-iEw!”

Fuck. The sneeze is loud enough to echo a little within the confines of the living room. Vincent is in the next room over. Vincent is asleep, presumably, like Yves should be.

And Yves’s nose is starting to tickle again.

He raises the blankets to his face, presses his nose to them to muffle the next—

“hhEH— hehh’IZschhH-IIEW! snf-!”

The sound is marginally quieter this time, muffled into the cotton, but it’s far from silent. He hopes, desperately, that it’s quiet enough, or that Vincent is a heavy enough sleeper for it not to matter. There isn’t even a proper door between them.

He reaches up to swipe a hand over his eyes. How did this get so bad so quickly? His head feels heavy, and every sneeze that tears through him is harsh enough to scrape at his already-raw throat—whatever hope he’d had for sleeping it off seems to be diminishing with every passing minute.

He listens, for a moment, for anything: any shifting from the room over, any motion, any footsteps. But to his relief, there’s nothing.

His head is swimming. Worse, he still has to sneeze. The tissue box is on the nightstand in the bedroom Vincent is in, but Yves thinks that it would be too unwise to make a trip right now and risk waking Vincent up a good three hours before sunrise.

“hHh-! hhH-!...”

Fuck. He stays frozen like that, for a moment, one hand hovering over his nose and mouth. His nose tickles, badly, kept just narrowly on edge. It feels like one wrong breath would be enough to set off a sneeze, but sometimes it seems to evade him at the last second—he can’t seem to get his body to settle on something decisive. “hhHEh-!”

The sneeze is unexpected, when it comes, at last—loud and forceful and vicious.

“hehH’NGKT’shhH’EEW!”

A short burst of pain shoots through his temples. Yves can’t claim he’s ever been good at stifling, and this attempt is no exception. It’s not much quieter than the others, even muffled into his pillow, and the attempt to stifle has only made the pressure in his head feel worse.

“Hheh… hh-!” He sniffles. His eyes are watering so much he thinks they might spill over. “hHeh… hh-hHih-HEHh’DJJSHh’iEEW!”

This one he muffles into his hands, ducking forward into his chest. The relief he feels from letting out the sneeze is unfortunately short-lived. He’s nowhere close to done. He can feel it, in the tickle in his nose which refuses to let up, in the pressure to his sinuses which only seems to worsen with each sneeze.

For a moment, Yves contemplates spending the rest of the night just outside their room, out in the hallway. It will almost certainly be colder, he would be quieter there, at the very least—there would be a proper door and a wall between him and Vincent, and that’s something, isn’t it?

Before he can seriously consider it, he’s snapping forward at the waist, muffling another loud sneeze into the covers.

“hhHeh-iIDDSHHhh’YyiiEW!”

He finds himself coughing, after, muffling the coughs tightly into the feather blanket in an attempt to cough more quietly. He shivers, huddling deeper into the covers. His head is pounding. Every time he swallows, sharp, hot pain lances his throat.

He hears nothing from the room over, even when he listens carefully. This much is a relief—truthfully, he would feel awful if he were keeping Vincent up because of this. Yves has survived on less sleep—back in university, 6am crew practice meant waking up early even when he’d been up late to finish projects or coursework, or otherwise out late with friends—but the thought of keeping Vincent up makes something uncomfortable settle in his stomach. Vincent hadn’t slept at all during the flight. He must be tired, now. The last thing he needs—after the stress of being surrounded by strangers in a foreign country, after traveling for almost 10 hours straight, after being assigned to room with his coworker, of all people—is to be woken up at an ungodly hour just because Yves can’t keep this damn cold under wraps.

Yves thinks he should try to sleep too, if only because it means he won’t be awake to succumb to the next sneeze that threatens to tear through him.

But if he’s entirely honest with himself, he’s not sure if sleep is going to come to him anytime soon.

—

Yves doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes up to his 7:30am alarm so tired that he feels like he hasn’t slept at all

“Morning,” Vincent says, emerging in the doorway. He’s fully dressed already, his shirt crisply ironed, the collar upright, his hair neatly styled.

“You’re fast,” Yves says. His voice sounds a little hoarse—all the sneezing last night probably hasn’t done it any favors. But if Vincent can tell that it sounds off, he doesn’t say. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Not really,” Vincent says. “We have time.”

“Give me a few minutes to get ready,” Yves says, hauling himself out of bed. “I’ll be out in five.”

He changes in record speed, washes his face, brushes his teeth, and stuffs everything he can see himself needing into a backpack to take down to breakfast.

When he emerges, Vincent is waiting for him in the hallway.

“How did you sleep?” Yves asks.

“Fine,” Vincent says. “You?”

“I slept well enough,” Yves says, before muffling a yawn into his hand. At Vincent’s pointed glance at him, he adds, “I’m just a little tired. It’s probably jetlag. It’s what, like, 2am over in New York?”

“1:42,” Vincent says, checking his watch. “Is your whole family going to be at breakfast?”

“I’m not sure if everyone’s up,” Yves says. “But Leon and Victoire will be. I told them to be downstairs by 8, so obviously they’ll kill me if I’m not there first.”

The breakfast lounge is on the first floor, a few hallways down from the reception desk. Yves saves a table for them.

He isn’t very hungry, for some reason. Still, he fills his plate with breakfast pastries and scrambled eggs and grabs a cup of hot tea while he’s at it. He really doesn’t want to lose his voice entirely before the ceremony. Even with his jacket on—which is probably even excessive, considering the temperature of the lobby—he isn’t as warm as he’d like to be.

Victoire joins them next. She waves to Vincent as she passes. “Hope you guys got some sleep,” she says innocently.

Yves says, “We got perfectly good sleep, thank you.”

“Morning,” Leon says, appearing in the doorway at 7:59.

“You’re really cutting it close,” Yves says, sniffling.

“It’s 7:59,” Leon says. “Whether I’m on time is a binary, not a sliding scale. I’m entirely on time.”

The table Yves picked can fit more than four, so they spread themselves out through the seats. “Mom and dad said they’re having breakfast at one of the cafes nearby,” Victoire says, shrugging her sweater off and leaving it perched on the back of her seat. “They said they’d report back if it’s anything life changing.”

“There’s a welcome party tonight,” Yves says to Vincent, “For everyone who’s flown in. You’ll get to meet them then.”

“Is there anything your parents hate in a partner?” Vincent asks.

“Don’t worry too much. I don’t think— hEHh…” Yves scoots back from the table turning away as he reaches blindly for one of the cocktail napkins he’d taken. “HEHh’DDJJSHh-iiEW! Ugh, sorry.” His nose has been running all morning—he’d made sure to take a generous stack, and stuff some of them into his pockets for later, but it’s been all of fifteen minutes and he’s already nervous that he might run out. “I don’t you could get them to hate you even if you tried.”

“Mom and dad met in college, at a bar,” Leon says. Yves, who has heard this story many times before, busies himself with eating, and tries hard not to visibly shiver. In a way, he’s grateful to the two of them for filling in the space for him—the less he strains his voice today, the better. “Mom was super drunk, and for some reason when she started talking to dad the conversation topic turned to, like, something super specific and not at all romantic.”

“It was whether or not it’s ethical to clone extinct species,” Victoire says, idly folding her napkin into a pinwheel. “Though this was before it had ever been done.”

“Apparently she was drunk enough to ask his hand in marriage mid argument, and he was drunk enough to say yes, because he thought it was a joke,” Leon says. “And it was a joke. But he proposed to her seriously a year later, and all she said was ‘at least you kept your promise.’”

“But now they’re happily married,” Vincent says.

Leon nods. “They’ve been happily married for almost thirty years now. Anyways, my point is that whatever relationship you have with Yves, you don’t have to try and impress them. There’s no need to overthink it.”

“I understand,” Vincent says. “My parents got married because my dad did well in a business competition at the time, and my mom thought he was going to make a lot of money.”

“And how did that turn out?” Victoire says, interested, propping her head up on one hand.

Yves watches Vincent cut a pastry into four even pieces. “Better than you might expect,” Vincent says.

—-

The welcome dinner is held at a local restaurant—Aimee and Genevieve have rented out the outdoor space for seating. The table—a long table that seats thirty, or so—is set with tall, elegant white candles, all in a row; wine glasses with delicate stems; vases spilling over with flowers—lilacs, pink and white roses, orchids.

Above them, string lights are strung up in neat lines. When Yves sees Aimee, he doesn’t drop all of his things to run over and hug her, but it’s a close thing.

“Yves! You made it,” she says.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he tells her, in French. “God. Did you plan out all of this? It looks gorgeous.” “Genevieve did a lot of it,” she says. “She has a good eye for decorations.”

Genevieve is off to the side, talking to someone who Yves recognizes as her sister—Yves follows Aimee’s gaze over to where she’s standing. When he looks back, Aimee is smiling in a way Yves has never seen her smile before—the sort of fond, private smile that he feels like he isn’t sure he’s supposed to be seeing.

Yves is stricken, for a moment. It’s so clear that she’s in love. It shows all over her face, plainly, the kind of love that’s uncontestable; the kind of love that makes love, of all things, look simple. Has he ever looked like that, to someone else?

“How have you been?” he asks. “I imagine preparations have been hectic.”

“Never better,” she says, turning back to face him at last. “You’re right—it’s been exhausting. But I feel like the adrenaline is carrying me through, you know? Like I’m so happy this is happening.”

“You two deserve a perfect wedding,” Yves says, and means it. He clears his throat, sniffling. It’s a little cold out, even though the sun hasn’t gone down yet; he really hopes his nose doesn’t start to run visibly. “If you ever need any help—with last minute preparations, or if anything comes up, or if you need someone on transportation or moving things—let me know. Even if it’s like, 3am or something. My hands are completely free.”

She laughs. “Thank you, that’s so kind of you to offer! It has been hectic, but I haven’t been up at 3am this week, thank God.”

“I hope to keep it that way.” Yves turns away from her, raising an arm to muffle a fit of coughs into his sleeve.

Aimee takes a step forward, her eyebrows furrowing. “Are you okay? You sound a little off. And you’re coughing.”

And Yves thinks: she can’t know. He has his toasts to give at her wedding. He has the wedding rehearsal tomorrow and the wedding ceremony on Saturday to attend. If Aimee finds out he’s coming down with something, she’ll probably tell him to sit things out—to get some proper rest, to disregard virtually everything she has planned, and to not leave the hotel room until he’s feeling a hundred percent better—even if it’s at her own expense.

Worse, she’ll be worried for the entirety of his illness, he’s sure. As if she doesn’t have enough on her plate already, between the setup and all the accommodations and the last minute changes.

Aimee deserves a perfect wedding.

That’s the bottom line in all of this. This is a once in a lifetime thing for someone he cares and cares deeply about. Yves is not going to ruin it. He’ll get through the next few days, even if it means pushing himself a little past his limits. He can crash afterwards, on the plane ride home, after all the festivities are over and everyone bids farewell.

“I’m fine,” Yves says, clearing his throat. “I’m—” This is really the worst possible timing. He takes a few steps back, craning his neck over his shoulder. “hH-! hHhh’kKTSSH-IEEW! snf-! Ugh. I’mb just getting over a slight cold.” Getting over might be a bit of a stretch, and a slight cold might be even more of one, but other than that, it’s not entirely dishonest.

Aimee frowns at him. “Bless you. Does your throat hurt? There are cocktails on the side table, if you want anything to drink. Wine, too. I can get something for you if you’d like.”

“Nice try, but there’s no way I’m letting the bride go and get things for me,” Yves says, grinning. “Do you want any cocktails?”

“I need to be sober until I’ve officially said hi to everyone,” she says. “Can’t make a fool of myself just yet. Speaking of which, where’s your boyfriend?”

Yves waves Vincent over. “Come say hi!” he says, in English.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Vincent says, in slightly accented French, which is a surprise. He seems to hesitate, thinking hard. “Congratulations on your wedding.”

“Oh my gosh!” Aimee says in English, pulling him close for a hug. Vincent hugs her back. “It’s good to meet you too, Vincent. Thanks for always looking after Yves. I’m glad to have someone keeping him out of trouble overseas.”

“Thank you for having me here,” Vincent says, hugging her back. “I know it was really last minute with the flight and everything. I hope it wasn’t too stressful for you.”

“It was no trouble at all!” Aimee says. “Yves is like a younger brother to me. Last summer was pretty rough for him, I think.” she doesn’t mention Erika, but Yves is sure Vincent knows what she’s referring to, regardless. Aimee smiles, a little wistfully. “I’m just so grateful that he met you. I’m glad to see him happy again.”

“I don’t think I can take credit for that,” Vincent says, blinking.

Aimee smiles warmly at him. “He’s the happiest he’s been in months,” she says. “I think you are selling yourself short.”

After Aimee asks Vincent how his stay has been (good, Vincent says, it’s actually my first time in France, to which Aimee excitedly lists off places he absolutely has to see while he’s here) and Vincent asks Aimee how the wedding preparations are going (nothing’s gone terribly wrong yet, Aimee laughs, which I suppose is all I can ask for), they find their way to their seats at the table. Someone has set out little name cards with all of their names written in calligraphy. Yves realizes, faintly, that the handwriting isn’t Aimee’s. Maybe it’s Genevieve’s, then.

“I didn’t know you knew any French,” Yves tells Vincent, in English.

Vincent looks away, a little sheepish. “I took a crash course into it when you mentioned the wedding would be in France,” he says, which Yves finds somehow disproportionately endearing. “I know maybe five sentences total, plus a few common terms.”

“Five sentences is impressive given that you had, what, just a few weeks to learn them?”

“I’m not sure if they are very coherent,” Vincent says. “The vowels are different from English. I’m still trying to get the hang of saying them.”

Yves is about to respond, but he’s cut off with a sharp, unexpected gasp. He pitches forward, raising his elbow up to his face just in time to muffle a—

“Hh… HhEHH-!’IihH’DZSCHh-IIEW!”

He’s glad, for once, that he’s not wearing the suit he’s planning on wearing for the wedding. His nose is running again, which is embarrassing, especially because he can still feel Vincent’s eyes on him.

“À tes souhaits,” Vincent says.

Yves laughs, rummaging through his jacket pockets for one of the napkins he’d taken at breakfast to blow his nose into. “Merci. Is that one of the common terms you learned?”

“No,” Vincent says. “I looked it up last night.”

“Last night?” Yves asks.

For a moment, he’s afraid that Vincent might reveal to him that Yves had kept him up last night, after all, despite all of his efforts to keep quiet.

“On the car,” Vincent clarifies. “During the trip to the hotel. I was just curious.”

“Oh,” Yves says, relieved. He blows his nose into the napkin he’s holding, which he’s sure he has reused at least a couple times already—but with his nose running so much, he doesn’t exactly have the luxury to be picky. “Well, you’ll be an expert at saying that phrase by the end of this trip, at the very least.”

It’s easy to lose himself in the throes of conversation, after that. Aimee and Genevieve have arranged it so that he and Vincent are sitting directly across from his parents. Leon is right—his parents have never really been the type to subject the partners he’s brought home, over the years, to any sort of interrogation. It’s a fun night, especially after everyone’s a couple drinks in.

“I think it’s a good thing that you guys are in the same line of work,” Yves’s dad says, conversationally. “Yves won’t have to explain why he’s always working overtime.”

Yves’s mom says, “Isn’t that a bad thing? We shouldn’t be encouraging their workaholic tendencies.”

Yves neglects to mention that he’s pretty sure Vincent (who worked the entire flight here)’s workaholic tendencies will persist, even without any encouragement.

Vincent tells them how they’d met—it’s the same story as he’d told the first time they’d done this, during Margot’s new year party a few months back, but Yves’s parents seem to find it extremely entertaining.

Yves’s mom says, “I told you Yves was the one who asked him out.”

Yves’s dad says, “I didn’t know if he had it in him.”

Yves’s mom says, “I remember hearing him say something about having an attractive coworker. It wasn’t that much of a logical stretch to assume he’d make a move at some point.”

(Yves thinks he sees them exchange a twenty dollar bill under the table, but he can’t be sure.)

Vincent practices his French with Yves’s parents—Yves fills in for him when he stumbles on a word, or when he hesitates, wracking his memory for a term he can’t quite translate.

“A fantastic attempt,” his dad says, when Vincent is done talking. “I can’t believe you learned so much in just a few weeks. I can only hope you’ll keep learning..”

“I will,” Vincent says. “Maybe next time we can have this conversation entirely in French.” There’s no uncertainty to the way he says it. Yves doesn’t mention that there’s a real chance Vincent won’t see them again, after this. It’s not a thought he particularly wants to confront.

At some point, Leon rises to his feet and shouts, in French, “Let’s toast to Aimee and Genevieve, everyone’s favorite couple!”

They all stand and raise their glasses. Yves finds he feels a little unsteady on his feet—maybe he’s had too much to drink. He feels warm, through the flush of alcohol in his cheeks, despite the evening chill.

He’s marginally worse at covering when he’s tipsy—and worse, too, at anticipating that he’s going to sneeze in the first place. At some point during the night, someone—maybe Vincent, or maybe one of Aimee’s friends from work that are seated nearby—sets down a stack of cocktail napkins in front of him.

Yves just hopes whoever’s put it there knows how grateful he is. The night is getting colder, even though he can’t quite feel it, and his nose is running so much that he finds himself grabbing a new napkin every couple minutes to blow his nose. It’s strange, he thinks, how such a small thing can be so comforting.

At some point, too, Vincent takes the glass of wine out of his hands and switches it out with a different glass. Yves thinks it might be a cocktail, at first, but when he takes a sip, he finds it’s just orange juice.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” Vincent says.

“I haved’t had that much,” Yves says. But come to think of it, his head feels hazy in a way that suggests he’s just a little drunk. “Just a couple— glasses— hh-! hHhEH’IIZSCHh’iIEw! snf-!” He barely manages to cover that sneeze in time.

“Bless you,” Vincent says.

“Ugh.” Yves reaches for another napkin from the stack. He feels a little dizzy, now that he’s paying attention. “I swear, my toleradce - snf-! - used to be a lot better before I graduated.”

Vincent hides a laugh behind one hand. Yves is too tipsy to pretend he doesn’t find that a little endearing.

“What?” he asks, faux-affronted.

“Nothing,” Vincent says. “I should’ve known that you went to parties and drank irresponsibly.”

Yves laughs. “Along with every other college student in the world.” He turns aside to muffle a cough into his sleeve. Perhaps he hasn’t been especially conscientious about saving his voice this evening—with all the talking he’s been doing, it will probably sound even worse tomorrow. “What, don’t tell me you’ve ndever gotten irresponsibly drunk!”

“Once or twice,” Vincent says, which is a bit of a surprise—he can’t imagine Vincent being drunk enough to lose the air of… well, composure isn’t the right word, perhaps. Professionalism? Self-assuredness? But maybe even drunk Vincent is professional and self-assured, all the same. Yves wonders, faintly, if he’ll ever have the chance to find out.

—

Dinner winds down slowly. Yves helps Genevieve collect all the name cards, gathers everyone’s plates to set them in a couple neat stacks at the end of the table, says hello to the relatives he’s closer to, and strikes up a conversation with some of Genevieve’s friends, who look to be just a few years older than he is. They talk first about the planning she’d kept them in the loop about, and then about the planning that she’d pulled off behind the scenes. Yves tells them about the many aesthetic and managerial decisions Aimee had consulted him for early on over text. The common consensus seems to be that Aimee and Genevieve are vastly overqualified when it comes to making sure that everything is logistically sound.

“Do you want to head out soon?” Vincent says, after some time, when Yves returns to his seat and some of the other guests have begun to filter out.

“That might be a good idea,” Yves says.

He says his goodbyes—to his parents, to Leon and Victoire, to Aimee and Genevieve, whom he’ll see tomorrow. Then he follows Vincent out. The hotel is a fifteen minute walk from where they are—some of their relatives have cars, but they’d walked here, and Yves thinks it’d be more work to try to coordinate a ride with someone.

Everything feels bright, Yves thinks, blinking.

“You’re cold,” Vincent says. It isn’t a question.

Yves realizes, faintly, that he’s shivering. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t feel it that much.”

“That’s because you’re drunk.”

“I’m ndot drunk.”

“Tipsy, then.”

Yves can’t argue with that. “Just a bit. I’ll probably— hhEh-!” He turns aside to direct the sneeze over his shoulder, away from Vincent. HH-! hHEHh’iIITSHh-IIEw! Snf-! —sober up soon.” The end of the sentence catches wrong on his throat and suddenly he’s coughing, a little harshly, into his wrist. The coughing fit is harsh enough to leave him faintly lightheaded, which is a surprise to him.

He thinks it shouldn’t be visible, but Vincent reaches out and grabs his shoulder to steady him. For a moment, Yves contemplates how nice it would be to lean into his touch.

Then he catches himself. He’s tired, but not so tired that he can’t sustain a short walk from the dinner venue to the hotel. It’s dark, but they don’t have any early obligations tomorrow, and it’s not late enough that he won’t have time to shower, get changed, and get a good night’s sleep, with time to spare.

Yves shifts out of Vincent’s touch. “Sorry about that,” he says, with the most convincing smile he can muster. He’s sure Vincent would be understanding if he brought it up, but truthfully, it feels like a waste of time to say anything at all.

Vincent doesn’t reach for him again, but his eyebrows furrow. “Are you okay?”

“What?”

“You almost fell,” Vincent says.

“I just tripped. The roads aren’t very even, and it’s dark.” They’re standing in the middle of a small, winding cobblestone street. None of the roads around here are very flat for very long.

“Are you saying that because you believe it?” Vincent says. “Or are you saying that so that I stop worrying about this?”

Yves stares at him for a moment too long. He’s sobering up a little.

For a moment, he contemplates telling Vincent everything—about how tired he’s been, all day. About how much it’s taken out of him to keep up this front, the whole day; about how he feels worse than he did waking up this morning—tired and cold and congested, a little unsteady on his feet. If he’s not mistaken, he thinks he might be running a slight fever; it’s hard to tell through the jacket, through the brisk evening air.

Maybe Vincent would understand. Maybe Vincent would insist that he get some rest, tomorrow, before the wedding. Maybe Vincent would tell him that this is all going to be fine—that this wedding that Yves’s been looking forward to for months, that he desperately doesn’t want to mess up, is going to be perfect, just as Aimee and Genevieve has planned it, even if he isn’t feeling his best.

But this is not Vincent’s problem to solve. Yves’s bad timing and his unfortunate circumstances are not Vincent’s responsibility, and Yves extended the invitation because he wanted Vincent to have fun on this trip, and no part of that entails having to look after Yves. Vincent has always been reliable, but Yves can’t start to expect things out of him—to take his kindness as a given, to take more than Vincent is willing to give.

He already asks more than enough of Vincent, as it stands.

“I’m fine,” Yves says, a lie, as easily as any other lie he’s ever told. The smile that follows comes easily, too, though he’s not sure if Vincent can see it in the dark, can’t tell if it’s more to fool Vincent or more to fool himself. “I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

[ Part 3 ]

#sneeze fic #snz fic #snz kink #snz #i edited this for a week straight #and now i have given up officially #i hope this doesn't feel too much like a filler/otherwise uneventful 😭#next chapter i promise yves is in for a bad time #yvverse #my fic

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joesanrio · 10 months

Note

stop it cause your last fic was so good!! i wish i could rb but i have minors following me:( anyway i was wondering if we could have a little joey fluff? just some tooth rotting fluff if yk what i mean:’’)

Really :D I’m so glad you liked it, and it’s totally understandable 🩷 Of course, I need to take a break from the nasties anyway lol

I don’t Share | R.R

Summary: Joseph is used to being the only one with your attention, but what happens when there’s competition?

Pairings: Joe Anoa’i {Roman Reigns} x fem!reader || established relationship

Warnings: Fluff 101, Time skips, mentions of alcohol, small sexual innuendos, Joe is drunk, stubborn!Joe, understanding!yn, cuddling

Word count: 1215

Ratings: Fluff | 16+

A/N: None of the friends mentioned relate to anyone in real life. Just pure fiction.

———————————————————

Listening to my music as I sat at my vanity getting ready to go out with Joe, he walks in wearing his usual button up and jeans. “Curly hair tonight?” he asks as he sat behind me on the bed, nodding as I finished styling my hair. “Let me see your hair...” I request as he turns his head to show the little ponytail he put in, “So cute!” I smile as he turns around and looks at my face in approval. Getting up from the vanity, I look at my outfit and compare it to Joe’s to see if I am over-dressed.

“Where do you buy these little dresses?’ Joe asked while playing with his wedding band, “I don’t know ask my credit card, I just get the packages.” I shrug jokingly before heading to the closet to put on my shoes. He gets up from the bed to stand at the closet entrance, after admiring my outfit, he finally walks away to get his keys. “Y/n… remember it’s just some of my work friends we are meeting with.” Joe reminds me as I walk out the closet with my purse, I hum in agreement before grabbing my phone off the charger.

Joe turns off the lights, as we leave the room. “My car?” I ask as I look through my purse for the keys, “No- actually yeah.” He hesitates before putting his keys on the counter once I pull out my own. We headed to the door, before I remembered to go back and turn on the alarm.

[Restaurant 7:50pm]

“Hi, I’m Y/n” I introduce myself as one of the fiancés of Joe’s friends, Ryan, comes up to me. “I am Charlotte. It’s nice to finally meet you! Joe talks about you all the time.” Her dimples popped as she smiled sweetly at me. “Really! Nice to meet you too!” I respond before she tells me that the rest of the girls are at the outside bar, “You’ll fit in perfectly!’ She says as she guides me through the restaurant to outside.

It was beautiful, string lights hung up above us with little flowers complementing certain tables and the wooden tables having small candles on them. “It’s gorgeous! Why don’t the guys come out here?” I question as I admire the scenery, Charlotte shrugs before introducing me to 3 other girls. Brianna, Alondra, and Aaliyah. They were all beautiful, having distinct features that even the most forgetful person couldn’t mistake.

“You live around here?” Alondra asked as she moved her long dark hair behind her shoulders, “Yeah about 15 minutes away actually.” I engage in the small talk with a smile. “Lucky! It’s so gorgeous here!” Brianna exclaims as she looks back to the scenery behind her, giggling at her reaction we all tell small personal things about ourselves. “And you’re married to Joe, right?” Aaliyah recounts as she tries to remember who’s who. “Yup!” I nodded as she clapped excitedly.

After about 25 minutes the guys walked outside to find us, Joe’s eyes at once landing onto mine before making his way over to the bar where we were sitting. “I missed you.” Joe whispers into my ear as he stands behind me with a beer in his hand, “You having fun?” I turn to face him and notice the faint smell of alcohol. He nods tiredly before wrapping his arms around my shoulder when I turn back around to the girls, “Y/n girl, you should totally come to the mall with us tomorrow!” Charlotte requests as everyone agrees but waits for my response. “Yeah, of course!” I agree as Joe let’s out a low grunt in disapproval that luckily only, I can hear.

[Home 10:06pm]

“You can’t go!” Joe whines drunkenly as we enter the house, “Why not?” I question amused by his childish behavior. Turning off the alarm, I turned around to see him with his arms crossed and sitting on the couch. “Because… I don’t know right now. Ask me again later.” He mumbles as he rubs his face, while laughing I decided to sit beside him. “Want to shower with me?” I ask as his face lights up and he nods before standing, “Just showering.” I warn as his smile drops once, he realizes that I’m not tolerating his funny business.

I follow him to the room before leaving to get undressed in the bathroom, “You need help?” I ask when I hear the door open to the bathroom. “No.” He shakes his head as the most he did was unbutton his shirt, I turn on the shower as he leans on the back of the door. “Help me Y/n! I was lying.” He exclaims as his arms flop down in distress, I laugh as I walk over to help him finish undressing. “Better?” I giggle before turning to get in the shower.

“It’s so warm.” He hums as he gets in behind me, “Here we can switch.” I say as I go to move behind him. “No, stay there.” He holds my hips to prevent me from moving.

----

After the shower, I got ready for bed and luckily the shower helped Joe sober up a bit. “You’re so pretty.” Joe smiled tiredly at me as I brushed my teeth. I grinned at his complement as I finish my task, “Okay let’s go.” I say as I pull him into a hug. His arms wrapping around my waist tightly as he leans down to put his face in between my neck and shoulder, “Do you really need more friends Y/n?” he asked, causing me to burst out laughing. Pulling away from the hug, I go to the room to finally lay down after the long night.

“To be honest, I don’t even think Charlotte was even that cool.” He shrugs after crawling into his side of the bed, I laugh at his attempts to make the girls seem boring. “Hush already.” I say as I cuddle up into his arms, “I’m just saying that maybe, you should go to the mall with me instead.” I can hear the smirk in his words. “You remember the last time we went to the mall and the aftermath- “, “You loved it.” He cut me off before letting out a small chuckle causing his chest to vibrate. “I did.” I smile before turning away from him, so his chest is now pressed against my back.

Joe continues to rant about little stuff as I doze off in his arms, “Seriously Y/n, I really think you shouldn’t go. Don’t you love me?” He plants small kisses onto my neck. “Joesph. You know I love you. Why are you making it such a big deal.” I giggle as his hand holds onto my hip gently.

I turn back around to face him, the low light of the TV hitting his facial features perfectly. “Because… You only met them tonight.” He speaks with a matter-of-fact tone, “The whole point of me going is so we can get to know each other more.” I try to reason as he shakes his head stubbornly.

“Luckily, we know all about each other.” He teases as his hand moves from my hips to my ass, “Go to sleep!” I giggle as he pulls me into his chest.

#roman reigns #joe anoa'i #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns fluff #wwe superstars #roman reigns x reader #joesanrio

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shadyruinskryptonite · 6 months

Text

Insecurities

Warning: Disordered eating, insecurities, depression, anxiety, self-loathing, references to s*x but no descriptions and not smut, unemployment, language, super negative self-talk (reader calls herself a bitch and fat), pet names (babe, baby, love), not proofread

Genre: hurt/comfort, established relationship, Modern AU!Eren x fem reader

A/n: Italics mean it’s the reader’s thoughts. Sorry that this is very dark and sad. As with any of my writing, it’s very self-serving. I promise that I’m alright, just feeling a bit insecure (I’m on the bigger side) and this will be comforting for me and therapeutic. Take care of yourselves <3

WC: 2390

y/n, texting: Hey Ren! You think we could hang out after work?

Ren: Sorry, I’ve gotta go to the gym and have some errands to run so I don’t think I can tonight 😢I should be able to tomorrow though if you’d like!

I sigh, feeling the familiar pressure settling on my chest as my stomach growls.

y/n: Oh, yeah. That’s fine. Tomorrow works! Love ya!

Ren: Love you too, babe.

I toss my phone to the side, heaving another sigh as I flop my head back.

I can’t expect him to realize something is wrong if I don’t tell him. How can you be both so good at hiding how you feel AND expect Eren to see through it? Dumb bitch, this is why you are disappointed so often, people can never live up to your unrealistic expectations.

Tears prick my eyes and I decide that the growling of my stomach is too obnoxious to ignore, so I walk to the fridge knowing I won’t find anything satisfactory. Settling on some cheese sticks, I fill the gaps with a bit of sparkling water.

If you want to like how you look in pictures, this better be the only thing you eat today.

Nodding to myself, I go back to my bed to finish my snack before sliding under the covers. Having not had more than one meal each day for longer than I can remember, I’m definitely exhausted. I’ve been searching and applying to jobs so often that I’m mentally just shot.

You should’ve never left your job. Sure they treated you like shit, but at least you had a paycheck. You’re so stupid for thinking you’d get a job quickly. And any place you work is going to be the exact same since you’re so fucking lazy.

I squeeze my eyes together before I turn on my white noise in the background hoping to drown out my own thoughts. Slowly, I drift off to a nap.

---

When I’m snapped out of my sleep, the room is dark. I rub my eyes, extremely disoriented because something that wasn’t my alarm is what pulled me awake. I glance at the time and realize I had been asleep for at least three hours. There’s a knock at the door, and it dawns on me that this is what must have pulled me out of my sleep.

Wearing just Eren’s hoodie, I stretch before calling out, “One minute!”

You’re not really going to answer the door like that are you? Even though the hoodie covers your ass your fat thighs with their stretch marks are out. You can’t have someone seeing that!

I groan before stepping into my closet briefly. I pull on a pair of leggings but quickly realize they’re tighter than the last time I wore them.

Ugh! You’re better off having your fat out. Just look at how these show the shadow under your gut! It’s disgusting.

For what feels like the hundredth time today I fight off tears not wanting to open the door looking like a crying mess on top of how shitty I already feel. I pull off the leggings in a huff and go to the door, too tired to care anymore.

When I glance through the peephole, I’m surprised to see Eren standing outside my door. I fling it open, confusion evident on my face. It’s only as he’s looking me over that I realize how messed up my hair must be so I quickly pull out the hair tie that was realistically only hanging on by a thread anyway.

His warm smile that crinkles his eyes and his musky scent envelope me, momentarily lifting the cloud off of me. But just as quickly as I felt better, the doom and gloom returned along with guilt.

Look at how handsome he is, it’s so unfair of him to be stuck with you. You were too obvious about how you felt and now you’ve forced him to come over here instead of doing the things he was planning on doing. Always a burden.

Fighting off the thoughts, I smile up at my boyfriend, trying to convey that I really am happy he’s here. A little worried about his response, I ask “what happened, I thought you were going to the gym and had errands to run?”

There’s an almost imperceptible furrow to his brow and I can tell he knows something is wrong.

Fuck! Don’t make him worry about you!

“I got off a little early so I’ve already gone to the gym and I decided that my errands could wait. You seemed off over text so I wanted to come check on you, and…I think I’m glad I did. What’s wrong baby?”

I pull him into my apartment and say, “nothing Ren, what makes you think something is wrong?”

I don’t want to worry him but, god, there’s nothing I need more than him right now.

As the door closes, the room is once again enveloped in darkness. “Well,” he says as he flips the light on, “for starters I can tell you just woke up from a nap.”

“I nap all of the time Ren, that’s nothing special” I say with a giggle, and to an untrained ear it sounds so very genuine. Not to Eren though. Wanting desperately to change the subject I ask, “Have you had anything to eat? If you went to the gym you must be hungry.”

As I go to walk towards the kitchen, he gently grabs my arm. “I had a smoothie, so I’m fine.” He’s still holding my arm when he looks behind me and sees clothes discarded on the floor of my closet, only he’s almost certain that they aren’t dirty. When he looks back to me, I can tell the expression on his face has bloomed into full-on worry.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he almost whispers.

I can’t hold his eyes so I look away, his thumb now rubbing loving circles on my arm. I steel myself so I can try to keep up the already fragile wall and look back at him with a softer smile this time. “I’m okay love, I promise. I appreciate you making sure I’m okay, though,” I say before getting on my toes to peck him on the lips. His eyes narrow slightly but he doesn’t press the matter.

Moving to the couch, Eren lays down with his head resting on the arm of the chair and invites me into him. I happily oblige. He has some random show on in the background, but as soon as I settle onto his chest and into his arms, my lip starts to quiver. My face is hidden in his chest, and I can tell he’s looking at the TV and not me, which is good because this time I couldn’t hold back the tears that had been brewing the entire day and, honestly, for the last nearly month.

I lay there, crying quietly as some stupid sitcom plays. Only there came a point where my crying wasn’t so easily hidden anymore. I move my hand to my mouth in hopes to cover any noise but there was no hiding the sob that racked my body. This got his attention.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

“Hey, hey, look at me baby, just look at me,” Eren says with increased urgency as he shifts so I can comfortably look up and make eye contact. When I fight looking at him, he changes strategy. Holding me impossibly close with one hand on the back of my head and the other on my back, he rubs comforting circles anywhere he can. “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay baby. I’m right here. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.

My sobbing gets harder before it starts to calm down, and if I could’ve seen his face I would’ve known how each new cry broke his heart all over again. When my crying had mostly subsided, I tried to choke out an apology which only made me begin to cry harder.

Now, Eren insisted on me looking at him. As he held my chin he asked, “Why the hell are you sorry? I don’t even know what you’re upset about yet.”

Through shuddering breaths, I manage to say, “I-I’m sorry for c-c-crying and I’m s-sorry for making you w-worry and f-f-for being a burden and, and, and… just for everything!” I try to bury my face in his chest again but he stops me.

“Baby! You never have to be sorry for crying. Where the fuck did you get the idea that you’re a BURDEN?” As he speaks, he looks almost hurt that I would say such a thing.

“I-I took you away f-f-from your plans,” I whine out.

“That doesn’t make you a burden love,” he says as he strokes my cheek. Shifting again to get us more on eye level, he continues, “this is not what’s making you cry this hard though. Please talk to me, y/n. I just, I feel so helpless if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” By now he’s holding my face, so I can only glance down to escape his eyes.

I know what I’m about to say will make him mad, so I keep looking down as I whisper, “why do you even care?” I feel his hands get tighter on my face. Not so tight that it hurts, but tighter nonetheless so I know he IS mad just like I was worried about.

What I wasn’t expecting was to be met with silence. When I look up, his eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open. Wanting to escape the situation, I say, “close your mouth, you’re going to catch flies like that,” but as I reach up to his face to gently shut his jaw, he grabs my hand hard.

“Why do I even care? I really can’t believe you just asked me that.” Mistaking his incredulity for annoyance, I frantically begin to apologize again as fresh tears spill over.

“Please stop apologizing, y/n. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” This shuts me up and for a moment we just sit in silence before it’s his turn to look away and he asks, “Have I not been doing enough to make you feel like I care? I’ll do anything you need, I-”

“What?! No! That’s not what I mean at all, you’re an incredible boyfriend and you make me feel so loved every day, it’s…it’s just that…” I pause to sigh. The last thing I wanted was for HIM to feel guilty. But how do I even begin to articulate what the problem is?

Eren waits patiently as I battle internally. Finally, I look down and continue, “It’s just that I don’t understand why you care about ME. I’m…I’m…I’m repulsive! I mean, just look at me!” I gesture to myself, still not making eye contact. Now I’m getting really worked up as I say, “We have no good pictures together because I ruin them all! I haven’t been able to contribute to a date in months because I have no money and on top of that you’ve had to bail me out financially more than once! I’m just…I’m useless! Fat, and lazy, and useless, and-”

I’m suddenly pulled into a crushing hug. Tangling one hand into Eren’s hair, I cry into the crook of his neck. For the first time in a while, I’m able to feel some of the weight lifting off of me. We stay like this for a moment and as my crying begins to subside, I can hear Eren speak through gritted teeth. Anger radiates off of him as he forces out, “did someone say something like this to you? Because if this is someone’s fault I’ll ki-”

“No one said this to me, Ren.” I lean back and realize he’s got tears glistening on his cheeks. I feel so bad for making him cry, but his silence implies he wants further explanation. I cup his face in my hands to wipe away his tears before I kind of chuckle and say, “No, no one said something to me. It’s just, I mean, I have eyes.”

“Well maybe you should get them checked then!” he bursts. I’m taken aback but it doesn’t stop him from continuing, “Because we must be seeing different things! Because when I look at you I just see happiness and love and sunshine.”

I chuckle again before I say, “Thank you Ren, but, to be fair, you’re my boyfriend. You’re supposed to say that kind of shit.”

Without an ounce of humor, he interjects “Well if I’m supposed to say it, then I must not be saying it enough. There are so many things about you that I love, like how smart you are and your humor and your kindness, but I never would have even wanted to get to know those things if I didn’t find you jaw-droppingly attractive. Your hair that looks soft and shiny no matter if you leave it natural or style it, your eyes that I find myself getting lost in every time we make eye contact, your smile that can genuinely turn my day around. And you’re every man’s dream because I don’t have to choose between tits and ass,” he squeezes both as his says that, making me genuinely laugh which reflects in his own smile before he continues, “and while I know you don’t like your stretch marks, I love them both because I think they’re like pretty tattoos but also because the skin is more sensitive so it gives me another way to drive you crazy any time we have sex.”

Before I can respond, he finishes off by saying, “You asked why I even care, but the answer is simple, and it’s because I love you. You are the greatest person I’ve ever met, and I will spend the rest of my life proving this to you if that’s what it takes.” He then kisses me softly yet passionately, conveying exactly how deeply he means everything he just said.

“It’s not something I’m just immediately going to believe about myself, but thank you. That really helped, Ren.” I kiss him one more time before saying, “I love you so much baby.”

“I love you too y/n.”

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kendallroydefender · 30 days

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Somewhere only we know - Chapter 15 (Kendall Roy x Reader)

Masterlist

Series summary: You met Kendall when you were six years old. You have spent every summer together and now years later you and him are still just as close.

This story follows Kendall and his best friend through their lives. Will they realize their feelings for each other before it’s too late?

Chapter summary: Willa and Connor’s wedding is coming up but it will end differently than you had expected.

Authors Notes: Well… we all know how this will turn out

Wordcount: 3K

'You coming to the rehearsal?‘

Kendall texts you

'Yeah ofc‘

'You?'

You double text

'Be there late'

'Do I see you after?'

He sends and you can’t help but smile,

'I hope so'

you type fast

'Let Fikret take your dress to mine. Don’t want you to have to go back.'

You arrive at the event before any of the other Roy kids arrive. "Willa you look amazing.“ you smile at the woman and she gives you a hug ”Thank you, you look good yourself.“

The dinner goes on for a bit before things start to get tense. You sit with Connor as you watch his fiancé getting more and more nervous as she sits with her friends.

After she went to the bathroom with her friends for forty minutes, you watch her head for the exit.

”Could you, maybe..?“ Connor starts and you understand what he’s trying to say ”Yeah Con, don’t worry.“ you give his arm a squeeze and hurry to catch up with them.

When you finally reach Willa and her friends you see that she’s talking to the siblings. Kendall’s eyes find you and you smile at him. ”Hey“ you greet him and his siblings quickly as Willa is heading for the exit now and you tell Kendall ”I’m gonna stay with her, do something with Con. Please. He’s worried.“

”Yeah, uh okay. We will figure something out.“ you press a quick kiss against his lips before you head of hurrying after the girls.

You sit in some bar her friends are laughing loudly behind you on the small dance floor, you sit next to the bride to be at the bar.

”Do you want to get out?“ you ask and the blonde nods

”Okay, let’s go.“ you tell one of her friends where you’re going.

You walk in silence through the night for a few moments.

”Hey, Willa if you want to call the wedding off you can do that.“ she inhales ”I don’t know. It’s just all so… tense? And when I envisioned my wedding it wasn’t… like this..“ she confesses and you nod at her ”Yeah, I get what you mean.“

”How do you do it? Dealing with all of this?“ you hum at her question and think for a moment ”Honestly? It is hard sometimes and you will see the person you care for get hurt and mistreated and try so hard to make it better for him but it will come back and back again. But I guess for me Kendall is worth it.“

You come to sit on some bench

”But you have been in this family for decades and it’s working?“

”Well kind of I guess? I mean I’m keeping away from Logan most of the times - especially now, you know… but the other option meant living without Ken, and I couldn’t do that. He’s my best friend.“

She stares into the nightsky for a bit before she says ”It’s different for you I guess… our relationship is… it’s different.“ she pauses ”But I do care about Connor.“ she says finally ”But things between us are good.“ she adds

”That being said, he would understand if you don’t want to do it. Getting married.“ You tell her sincerely. You sit for a few moments

”Okay, I think I’ll go home now.“ she hugs you and says ”I’ll see you tomorrow.“ with a smile that tells you she will not cancel the wedding.

You come home before Kendall does and slip into one of his shirts. It’s soft and dark grey. Your dress for the wedding is already hanging in his closet.

”Hey, where are you?“ Kendall asks as you pick up ”I’m at your home where are you?“ he smiles even though you can’t see him. ”Okay I’ll be there soon.“ now you’re smiling too ”Can’t wait.“

He’s home fast.

”How’d your night went?“ he asks once he sits down next to you on the bed. He’s still in his suit.”It was good, I think.“

”Is she..?“

”She’s doing it. We talked a bit, it was nice.“

”Good, good.“

”How was your night?“ you ask and he chuckles a bit

”We went to a karaoke bar.“

”Oh I wish I was there.“

He looks at you ”No, no you don’t. Connor murdered famous blue raincoat. And uh Dad came.“

Kendall notices how your jaw clench slightly. ”Oh.“

”You okay?“ you ask

”Mhm, yeah.“ he says ”He tried to, uh, gaslight us into saying yes to the deal and said some other fucking shit.“

Your fingers lightly traces up his forearm.

”So you didn’t sing at all?“ you lighten the mood, knowing his love for a performance.

”Yeah, no uh Dad kinda ruined what was left of the mood.“ you nod knowingly ”He has that quality.“ you tell him with an apologetic smile.

”Come on, get ready so I can have you all to myself.“ You tell him

”You always have me.“ He adds before ”Always had.“ He tells you with a twinkle in his eyes. Yes, it is cheesy but you have waited long enough to not be cheesy. You kiss him quickly before he heads off to get ready.

Kendall gets ready and joins you in bed afterwards. You settle down in bed for the night. You lay your head onto his chest. Kendall plays with your hair and you can tell there’s something he’s thinking about.

”Are you, uh, are you sure this is what you want?“ Kendall asks and you look up at him. His eyes are fixed on his hand wich is holding your hair.

”Yes. Of course, Ken.“ you assure him

”Why? Are you having doubts?“

”No, no! God, I’ve never been so fucking sure in anything. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, honey.“ he says and you melt inside

”You’re all I’ve ever wanted too, Kenny.“ he kisses you then, it’s soft and full of emotion. You’re sure Willa’s doubts made him wonder if you ever felt like that.

When you part you look into his eyes and find nothing but honesty in them.

”I love you.“ you whisper and he gives you another kiss

”I love you too.“

You lay your head back down onto his chest.

It’s silent for some time before either of you speak up again.

”You asleep?“ he asks and you make a humming sound to tell him you’re still awake. ”Uh, I know it’s fast but I thought we could- we could move in together.“ Kendall says. You look up from where you’re laying on his chest ”You want that?“ he nods ”Yeah, I do.“ you grin and press a kiss to his lips ”I’d like that.“

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You step out of the closet and see Kendall standing before you, he’s already in his suit and he looks so good. "Hello handsome.“ you joke with a smile and his eyes snap up from his phone. He gives you a once over, his eyes running up your body and you feel your cheeks getting warm. "Wow you look stunning.“ he says and you walk closer to him. His kiss is long and soft but it doesn’t take long before it turns breathless and hungry. Then again you had starved for kisses of the other for far too long. You pry yourself away from him when his hands start to roam your body, even though you don’t want to. "We have to leave, Ken. But we can pick up right here after we come back, okay?" You ask and he steals another kiss in wich you can feel his smile. "Okay but I hope you know I’d rather keep you here the whole day instead of going to this fucking weird wedding." He tells you while he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "It’s so weird.“ you tell him and he chuckles before saying "So fucking weird.“ you laugh now too thinking about Connors wedding. "Ours gonna be nothing like that.“ Kendall says and your heart skips a beat. Normally it would be weird if someone told you this only two months into your relationship but you knew Kendall for most of your life so you found it wasn’t weird, you had so much time to catch up with. Still you go kind of shy on him and he absolutely loves it, he loves having an effect on you. "God I love you.“ he says as he presses a few kisses against your lips again. You love to see how much better he’s been doing the past months. And you’re so happy to finally be with him in this way. After all these years it feels like something inside your heart was able to settle. This felt right, this was how it was supposed to be.

When you finally are able to get away from each other for long enough to get downstairs and into the car

You meet Roman and Shiv before you go on the boat.

Once on the ship you see Willa and you hug her as a greeting. Her mother is also there, she seems very excited. Willa tells you about the "looney-cake" and Kendall explains that that was the cake they gave Connor after his mother was admitted to the mental hospital.

You meet your parents, who are also invited to this wedding. They know Connor for a long time too. ”We want to tell you, Kendall, that we’re happy for the two of you.“ your Mother says wich makes a smile creep on both your faces. This was the first time they saw you two since you got together. "Thank you.“ Kendall says and he actually looks so happy in this moment, wich warms your heart.

”Well, you’ve always been part of our family.“ your father says before your mom says ”And we always thought you would be our son in law someday.“ you hide your face with a hand ”God, mom please.“ you feel like you’re sixteen again, even though, yes they weren’t wrong. Kendall kisses your head then and you want to melt. ”I would be really, really glad to be that, officially, one day.“ Kendall says and you think what is happening to yourself. You see your mom smile and your father says ”Well son you have our blessing.“ you know your parents don’t care about blessings, Kendall could marry you without asking them. But it makes you happy to hear that they support your relationship so much. ”And who knows, maybe the next wedding we’ll attend will be yours.“ your mom says with a wink. ”Mom, please we haven’t even been together for a year.“ you say slightly embarrassed but she shrugs ”But you know each other your whole live.“

”So I guess you just promised my parents to tie the nod one day, they’re not going to let you go now.“ you chuckle once you move on with Kendall and he stops you, his hazel eyes looking deep into yours ”I’m planning on it, trust me.“ your mouth is agape. ”But let’s not ruin the surprise now.“ Kendall says giving you a quick kiss. You look at him then absolute mesmerized, eyes slightly widened and a smile on your face and Kendall would like to push Willa and Con away from the altar and marry you right now.

The siblings ask if they could get a more private room to talk about the deal. "Uh I think I have to go with them.“ Kendall tells you and you smile at him "It’s okay, Ken." He kisses you again then; still not believing this isn’t a dream and he can kiss you in public whenever he wants. He feels like he’s a sixteen year old with his first crush again. He loves the way your arms wrap around his neck as he holds your waist. "Okay could you two stop dry humping each other we kind of have a job to do." You hear Roman say behind you and you have to fight the urge to let out a laugh. "I’m gonna kill him.“ Kendall mumbles against your lips and you smile before pecking his lips once more before he goes.

You spent some time chatting with the guests. You’re talking to Willa when you see Ken coming. You notice instantly that something is wrong. He seems distraught. He goes over to Shiv, they talk while they’re going back to where he came from. You tell yourself this must be something about the deal, even though you’re not sure if he would look this disturbs over it. Something must have happened to it, something bad.

Shiv sees Kendall looking out of the window. They’re waiting on anything, Hugo just came. She clears her throat before saying "You can go get her, you know?“ Kendall doesn’t answer. So Shiv turns to Hugo "Hey Hugo can you get Y/n?“ she tells the older man and not even Roman is protesting. You are kind of a part of Kendall, you should be here. You two always had been part of the other but now you were dating and Shiv thought he could need you right now.

You’re talking to a friend of Willa, who has left after Connor asked to talk to her. It seemed urgent, maybe another cake emergency. You see Hugo approach you. He says your name before asking you to follow him. He tells you Kendall wants to speak to you. You go through the floors of the boat behind him. He brings you to a room away from the wedding. The first thing you notice is that Shiv looks like she had been crying. This is definitely not about the deal. You look towards Roman, then Kendall they look exhausted and almost panicked.

"Uhm- so Dad- he- he’s-.“ Kendall stops talking, his voice breaks and tears gather in his eyes. And you just know what had happened. "Oh god.“ You say while you take a few fast steps towards Ken and hug him tightly. He buries his head in your neck and you can feel him shake. Hugo comes back with Gerri and they get Tom back onto the phone. You don’t know if you’re expected to leave but in this moment Kendall takes your hand and holds onto it tightly. You rest your intertwined hands on your leg and lay the other over them, rubbing soothing circles on his skin. While Frank and Tom give constant updates about the situation on the plane you have to wipe tears from your cheeks too. When Kendall notices he squeezes your hand. This day started so beautiful and now it turned for the worst.

Before the boat arrives to take you all away you go over to the bride and groom to say sorry for leaving.

Connor hugs you and stays close afterwards ”It’s okay! It means a lot but you should go be with him now.“ you nod X

”I’m glad he has you. And I’m happy you two are together now.“ you smile ”I’m happy about that too, took us long enough huh?“ you both chuckle before you say ”Thank you Connor.“

You feel bad for them, not being able to have a celebration with their families. But you can’t stay either, you jump into a smaller boat and then into a car once you arrive at the coast. You stay with Hugo while the others prepare themselves to go over the statement.

You walk up to Kendall and keep your distance for a bit, you want to let him have his moment. Afterwards, when they got Logan’s body out of the airplane, Kendall comes and find you. Roman walks down the steps of the private jet and you spot Shiv walking over to Tom. It’s time to go, you feel a little bad leaving Roman by himself, knowing he will go home alone. Still feeling for the little boy outside on the steps of the summer house back when you were sixteen.

”Can we-" Kendall starts before taking a shaking breath ”Can we go home?" He asks and you nod ”Of course, just one second.“ You tell him and jog over to his little brother. ”Hey Rome.“ the younger Roy looks at you. You touch his arm carefully before saying ”If you need someone to play catch with in the garden, call me." You tell him and he nods slowly, a little hesitant but the look in his face tells you he knows what you’re talking about.

You walk to your waiting car and drive to Kendalls place. You hold Kendall the whole night and he feels bad for you - it seems like you always have to take care of him. You don’t mind of course, you would do it everytime and you hope that somewhere inside him he knows. And you know he would do the same for you, he had done the same for you.

In the middle of the night you wake up to an empty bed. "Ken?" You ask into the dark. You see the door slightly open and hear him talking. You can’t understand what he’s saying but you don’t want to disrupt him from whatever he’s doing. You drift off again and wake up as the sun is just rising. You rub your eyes, Kendall is still missing from the bed and there’s no voices to be heard anymore. You get up and walk towards the the living room. Kendall is sitting on the ground a blanket wrapped around his back. He notice you and motions for you to sit. You settle next to him, he looks absolutely exhausted. But of course he does, who wouldn’t after their father died. He wraps an arm around you and you rest your head on his shoulder, his coming to lay on yours a moment later. "I was talking to someone, my therapist recommended.“ he tells you

"I think that was a good idea, Ken.“

You sit for a hour more, without talking much. Before he says that you should probably get ready for the wake.

#kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x you #kendall roy fic #kendall roy fluff

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emberenchanted · 10 months

Text

For Keeps (3/3)

Pairing: Dark!Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Summary: Carol sees you. Carol wants you. Carol gets what she wants.

Series Warnings: extremely dubious consent, strap ons (r receiving), sex (oral, vaginal), anal fingering, Dom!Carol, orgasm denial, spanking, violence (not really towards reader), manipulation, forced relationship, rough sex

18+ ONLY

Link to Chapter 1

Link to Chapter 2

A/N: Ok party people, we've reached the end of this short tale. There really isn't much plot here, it's mostly smut 😅. This fic is my first time writing smut so hope it isn't terrible. Thanks to everyone who read, liked, commented, and reblogged! Let me know what you think about this chapter. I really appreciate the support and motivation.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Chapter 3

When you wake up the next morning, it is to serious regret and a text from Carol telling you that she’d pick you up at 6:30pm that night. You make one last effort to get out of the date and text back that you aren’t feeling well. Carol responds and says that if you aren’t feeling well, she’ll just come over and take care of you until you’re better.

The response makes your stomach drop. You shudder to imagine how domineering Carol would be alone, in a private space that has a lock. She already forces every interaction into the outcome she desires in public. If she managed to get into your studio, you would be at her mercy, and after the way she’d finger fucked you against the alley wall before you could get a word in, you were sure you wouldn’t get her out of your apartment before she got what she wanted, which was most likely you in bed with her. You definitely weren’t ready for that yet, if you’d ever be. No, much better to go out.

Hours later, after considering the contents of your closet, you settle on a black knee length bodycon dress with long sleeves and chunky black boots. You style your hair into an updo, and add chunky gold hoop earrings; a bit of concealer (to cover the marks Carol had left on your neck the night before), and a swipe of lip gloss complete your look. You don’t want Carol to see where you live so you decide that you’ll head down to the bar around 6:25pm and meet her there. You’re already nervous, so when you’re ready by 6pm you decide to indulge in one glass of wine to settle your nerves. It definitely can’t hurt, right?

At 6:20pm, Carol walks up the steps to your apartment, which is right over the bar. If she’d known last night that her baby lived just upstairs, she could have dragged you there during her break and made your first time riding her fingers much more comfortable. Though to be fair, if she had known, you might not have made it back for the rest of your shift. Oh, well. That’s what she gets for not having complete information. She won’t let that happen again. Carol intends to find out all the important bits about her baby’s life tonight, so simple slip ups like that don’t happen anymore.

After spending her morning “talking” to some of the other business owners who have recently missed their monthly payments, Carol is feeling relaxed and eager. Situations where she got to flex her physical...skills always got her blood up, and she was ready to show her baby a great time. The concerning information Carol’d received from three of the people she visited could be handled tomorrow. Apparently, all of them had also been told there’d be a change in payment method and none of the dumb fucks had double checked before paying in cash at that bench. She needed to talk to Steve about how to move forward and he wasn’t an early riser. If things went according to plan, she wouldn’t make it back to the Avengers’ headquarters from her date until mid-morning tomorrow.

She bounds up the last two steps before quickly walking to your door. Carol knocks two times before taking a step back. When you open the door, Carol is absolutely thrilled. You look fucking delicious and Carol can’t wait to eat her little baby alive. Your soft breasts are perched high in a tight black v-neck dress, and the smooth expanse of skin from your neck to dressline is flawless. Whatever you'd applied made your skin gleam and shimmer in the light. It's all Carol can do to not hook her finger into the neckline of your dress and tug to see if your pretty little nipples shine in the same way. You look surprised to see her and Carol uses your temporary shock to crowd you, pressing her body to yours and lifting her hand to stroke your cheek gently. “You look incredible, baby,” Carol husks out, dropping a soft kiss on your shiny supple lips.

“Oh.” The little sound of surprise pops out of you before you can help it. When you take a step back, Carol takes that moment to step around and into your apartment.

Carol slowly takes in the small two room apartment. It was rather cramped and a bit dingy, but you obviously take good care of your belongings. Old bookcases line the walls and sink under the weight of fat, squat books. An obviously used green velvet couch takes up most of the open floor space and a TV on a chipped wood table stands across from the couch. But multiple small clusters of flowers in mason jars are perched on several surfaces, brightening the space. And in the kitchen, directly behind the couch, several bright prints and images are hung.

Carol was proud of you for making it on your own this far. She knew how many young girls struggled, but you had found a job and place to live in a new city without any family support or connections. Her baby was hard working and industrious. Thankfully, you wouldn't need to do that anymore. Carol would be taking care of all that for you soon enough. Carol was just happy that through your obvious struggles you'd remained innocent and pliable. Watching you stammer and flush when Carol gave you her full attention was exquisite and it made her eager to command that submissive spirit in the bedroom. You would be so fucking pretty whining and squirming under Carol in bed with a sore and tender ass.

After Carol had seen her fill of the apartment, she turned to face you once more. Stepping close, Carol slid a hand up and down your arm. “Your apartment is so cute, baby. I wish I’d known you lived so close. I would have come over sooner.”

You shudder at the thought. “Ready to head out?,” you ask hurriedly.

By the time Carol slips into the booth seat next to you at the restaurant, you’ve calmed just a bit. While she’s been just as handsy at the show and on the way there, she’s also been charming. Being with Carol was like being on a rollercoaster. The breakneck pace she pushes things along makes your stomach churn and drop, but it also makes you excited and breathless. As with a roller coaster you’re pretty sure you’ll make it off alive, but there’s always the chance that you’ll slip past the safety restraints and tumble to your end. It was exciting and scary. Carol was exciting and scary.

The restaurant Carol has chosen is quiet and dimly lit. Floor to ceiling brick walls enclosed several small tables situated around the room. A few booths were also tucked against the back wall creating private enclaves. Each table is topped with a burning white candle. After you’d both ordered, Carol begins asking about your life. Where you grew up, familial relationships, your past romantic partners, what you liked to do in your free time, your favorite places in the city (so far); everything was fair game. There was a part of you that wanted to hold back, not to divulge everything about yourself, but another little part of you was flattered. You’d never had someone so interested in hearing about you. Of course, Carol might not have had a completely altruistic motive, but she did seem genuinely interested. After finishing your main course, Carol’s hand gently touches your knee, pushing the fabric of your dress up your leg and swirling patterns into the ticklish skin there. It's hard to believe that this was the same woman who’d brutalized Mel. But, you try to remind yourself that it was.

Carol seems to be in a good mood, and she’d said at the beginning of your dinner that she wanted to know everything about you. That went both ways, right? You thought you should also be able to ask her about her life. If this was going to be a...relationship, there had to be some give and take.

You take a deep breath and ask, “Carol, can I ask you a question?”

She squeezes your knee, “Anything, baby.”

Your question comes out quietly. “Do you hurt people, like you hurt Mel, often?”

Carol turns her body to you, meeting your eyes and she takes a beat before answering. “You want to know more about my work?”

You nod.

“I fix problems,” she begins. “Almost any problem. I do that all over the country and all over the world. And there are different...methods for fixing problems. It’s my job to identify the most expeditious method for resolving any issue I’ve been hired to fix. People pay me a lot of money to do that well.” Her hand slides up your thigh and kneads. “What happened with Mel was unfortunate, and I’m so sorry if I scared you, but you'll get used to it.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. That was not what you were hoping to hear. And you definitely didn’t think you’d get used to it. You look into her eyes and see what looks like affection there as you brace yourself to ask another question. “Would you ever hurt me like that?”

She chuckles softly. “I would never hurt you in the same way that I hurt Mel.” The tightness in your chest releases just a bit. “But I do have certain expectations of you, baby, and I will enforce boundaries with and for you. But never that harshly.” she rushes to finish. Your heart continues to beat a rapid rhythm against your ribs as you take in her words. You’d known that Carol had certain proclivities after your previous interactions with her, but to hear it stated so plainly was something different. You simply didn't want that kind of relationship. One with rules and punishments. You are even more sure you'll have to find some way to end things with Carol before they go any further. At that moment, the waitress clears the table, sets down your dessert and heads back to the kitchen.

The hand gently stroking the inside of your thigh creeps up a bit higher, tickling delicate skin. You move to shift away from her, uncertain of how you're feeling at the moment and hoping for a bit of time to think. But as you begin to close your thighs, Carol gives the inside of your leg a sharp pinch. “One of those expectations is that you do as I request, and another is that you don’t move when I’m touching you--or about to touch you--unless I give you permission. Ok, baby?”

You nod slowly and Carol nods back at you. “Now why don’t you just lean back and relax, sweetheart? This will feel good. I promise.” Carol was blocking you inside the booth so you couldn’t get out without making a scene. You rest your back fully against the back of the bench and close your eyes.

“Look at me while I’m touching you,” Carol murmurs against your ear. You drop your head to the seat behind you and roll your head to face her, eyes fluttering at the sensations coursing through your body at her gentle stroking.

“Carol,” you sigh.

Another pinch. “Ma'am!,” you quickly correct. “Ma'am, we’re in public. Someone might see.”

“Don’t worry,” Carol purrs. “Nobody is going to see you. Nobody gets to see you like this but me, ok?”

You murmur affirmatively and give yourself over to the pleasure she’s inciting in you. Her slender fingers find your panty covered core and stroke over your damp slit. Her gentle caresses send fissures of pleasure shooting through you and you whimper softly. Carol hums approvingly. Her fingers pull your panties to one side and she slides one solitary finger inside your slick warmth to the second knuckle. Your body twists at the sensation, and you try to slide further down the bench to get her finger further inside you. Carol laughs gently as she thrusts her finger in and out. In and out. It’s not enough. “More, please, ma'am” you sigh breathily.

Carol chuckles.

“My baby needs a little more? Do you want to come?,” Carol queries.

You nod frantically. “Do you want to come here at the table or back at home?” Your mind races. You really don’t want to lose control at the restaurant despite Carol’s assurances that nobody will see you. But, you also don’t want her in your home. As you ponder, Carol pushes her finger deeper inside you and the slick sensation makes you gasp. “Home!”

Carol pulls her finger out before slipping it in her mouth to suck gently. “Hmm, delicious,” she intones. Carol stands up quickly and strides over to the waitress, credit card in hand as you try to gather yourself and your senses. She’s back before you know it, quickly packing up your dessert into small takeout containers, and grabbing your hand to drag you out the booth.

Just as you’d suspected, Carol was just as forceful in bed. She’d essentially dragged you to her apartment (or at least where she was staying while in the city), before pouncing on you. Her apartment was modern, but understated, largely empty of decoration. Her hands dragged, unzipped, and shifted until you were left in only your underwear.

She pushes you into her room and onto her large bed before climbing on top of you. Her lips meet yours and her tongue strokes the inside of your mouth sensuously. She sucks and nips sharply at your lips before slowly making her way down your jawline to your neck. As her lips travel to your clavicle, Carol slips one hand underneath you to press your back into an arch. Her other deftly unclasps your bra before tossing it aside. Her teeth gently scrape at your skin before moving to your nipples. Latching on, she gives you a hard suck, immediately laving the skin with her tongue with small strokes to soothe the now aching bud. She continues to suck on first one nipple, then the other until both are sore and puffy and you are whining and squirming underneath her. Seemingly inspired by your strained noises, her teeth continue worrying the taut bud of one breast as her fingers slip into your panties and begin to rub your clit.

She releases you with a soft, wet pop as her fingers continue exploring, first one, then two of her fingers pushing all the way into your tight hole and making you moan incoherently. “This little pussy is perfection, baby, I can’t wait to fuck you,” Carol rumbles, mouth still against your breast.

”Wait,” you bleat out.

Carol rises to her knees and smacks your pussy hard. “Ouch,” you shout.

"No, baby. I’m not waiting anymore. I was supposed to get to fuck you on our last date, but you stood me up. You've been teasing me long enough. Now get undressed and get on your hands and knees."

Carol pauses her words to cock her head and pin you with a hard gaze when she notices you aren't moving. "Now, baby," she says harshly while reaching over to give your thigh a hard pinch. You yelp at the blooming pain, then take a few deep breaths and resign yourself to what was about to happen. Your heart pounded in your chest at how fast, again, Carol was getting her way. You felt so overwhelmed and helpless that you couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and threatened to spill over your lower lids. Hands shaking, you removed your simple white lace underwear and began moving to your hands and knees.

Satisfied that you were following directions sufficiently (though you were still moving too slow in Carol's opinion, --something she would let slide tonight but would train out of you soon enough) Carol reaches over to open her bedside drawer and pulls out an intimidating strap on. Your movements pause as you catch sight of her maneuvering it onto her body, and your eyes widen in fear. It's as thick as your wrist, frighteningly long, and has a wicked curve. Thinking of that splitting you open makes you sob. But Carol is having none of it. With herself situated, she turns her attention back to you. She manhandles you into her desired position, ignoring your breathless pleas to pause for a moment.

Your eyes are glued in fear to her linen duvet as you feel the fat head of her huge cock run through your slippery folds, stopping to nudge at your clit before continuing back up to your hole. Carol rests her hands on the flare between your waist and hips, before tightening her grip and starting to push into you.

You moan pathetically as you feel the head of her cock pop into you. Even this first inch is a stretch and you know there's a lot more coming. Carol gives you no reprieve as she continues sliding into you, splitting you open at a slow but steady pace. Your cunt flutters frantically around the invading cock, trying desperately to create space where there previously was none. When you're sure you can't take any more, you begin to whine and try to move away. Carol tuts softly before giving your ass a sharp smack, and leans over to murmur in your ear. "I told you not to ever move away from me when I'm touching you." Her words send shivers down your spine.

With that, she tightens her grip on your hips, before lifting you and giving you a rough tug back, impaling you with the last few inches of her cock. You sob into the sheets at the pain coursing through you. Carol threads the fingers of one hand into your hair, yanking back to ensure you can no longer move away from her. "Gotta keep you nice and close, baby. " You shudder as Carol's free hand begins to explore your body while she gives you a few slow but deep experimental thrusts. Though you still haven't adjusted to the fullness of your cunt, Carol begins to increase the pace, drawing heat and an intense pleasure to your belly. Her touch is everywhere -- sliding over your shoulders, rubbing and twisting at your nipples until you sob, tickling down your back to rub over your ass, pinching your inner thighs before moving them apart, forcing your back into a deeper arch and making the heavy cock inside you slide that much deeper.

You're barely holding on. Carol is everywhere and there is only Carol. Since you'd met, Carol had been pushing every interaction and every conversation the way she wanted it to go. There was no room for disobedience, no room for hesitation at one of her many orders, and no room for negotiation. Everything has to be Carol's way, and you'd seen the potential consequences firsthand. That first night you'd seen the violence she'd casually doled out, and hadn't ever wanted that to be you. Now you were wishing for a few simple broken bones. This was so much more violating.

Her cock is rubbing against every inch of you, making you feel stretched to the limits. As much as this hurts, it brings an equal amount of pleasure. Your body hums at the intensity of Carol fucking you. Every nerve ending is alight and you can feel the beginning of that coil tightening in your gut. You feel sick, and scared. You're sick at your body's enthusiastic response to Carol's rough handling. You can hear the slick, wet noises you make each time she thrusts into your raw and battered pussy. But you're too scared of the immediate punishment to try to resist or adjust your body to make yourself a bit more comfortable. So just as you begin to let your mind wander from this place and try to relax into the pleasure and ignore the pain, Carol removes the hand that's been roaming your body. The sudden lack of sensation gets your attention.

She gives your hair another yank, twisting your head so you're awkwardly looking at her. She looks...depraved, but beautiful. Her piercing eyes take in every expression on your face and flick from the bouncing of your tits, to the cock disappearing inside of you and back to your face at a rapid pace. When a particularly rough thrust forces the curve of the cock into your g-spot and you part your lips to yowl at the ecstasy she shoves her pointer and middle fingers into your mouth and tells you to suck. You know better than to disobey. You suckle at her fingers as they rub over your tongue, reaching further back until they press into the back of your mouth. As you choke on the intrusion, and Carol continues to rub at your tongue as you gag, her eyes light up in glee, and you worry about the plans she might have for your mouth. You don't think you can take the hefty cock down your throat if Carol demanded it, but you know you'd have to try. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to escape the intensity of Carol's gaze and put that potential nightmare out of your mind, but Carol gives your hair a sharp tug before demanding you "look at me."

When you do, she finally-- blessedly-- pulls her fingers from your mouth. They're covered in your saliva and a small string of spit connects her fingers to your lips. She murmurs that she wishes she were close enough to lick the drop of saliva off your lips, and you can't help but be thankful she isn't. You don't think you can take much more of this. More of Carol everywhere.

But you've never been lucky, and just as you begin to relax again you feel a light stroking pressure at the opening of your tight puckered hole.

You start and your mind begins to race as you feel her spit slick finger begin to press into you, stretching your ass open in an insistent burn.

"You ever let anyone fuck you here?" Carol asks. You gather your wits about you before she has to repeat her question. "No, ma'am" you mutter out in a broken moan.

"Good," Carol responds. "I'm going to be the last person in this tight little pussy and the first and last in this little asshole." She sounds pleased. Despite knowing the uselessness of trying, you plead for her to stop, to give you a short break. She hushes you gently, more gentle than she had been, as her finger slips deeper into you and she murmurs "Both holes baby. Gotta get you used to this. I'm not going to fuck you here with my cock tonight but it's happening soon so we've gotta get you trained. Wouldn't want to hurt you."

Carol removes her hand from your hair and uses it to brace your hip in place as you wail and try to buck at the intrusion.

"Ah ah ah, baby. Hold still. One more,” she murmurs as she pushes in a second slender finger. “You can do it. There you go. All done. You don't move unless I tell you to, remember baby?" Your fingers scramble for purchase in Carol's sheets as you pant. You thought you'd been full before. You thought Carol had violated you as much as possible but you should have known she'd find another way to possess you. You cry into the sheets before feeling Carol smack your ass twice and dig her fingers into your hip making you yelp sharply.

"I asked you a question, baby. Answer me."

You sob out a miserable "yes, ma'am." Satisfied with your response, Carol begins to alternate thrusting into your ass and pussy, both pushing deeper into you than you thought possible. Your body quivers at the push and pull of her inside you and her free hand is back to roaming over your body. After twisting at your sore nipples her hand coasts over the soft skin of your belly to your slippery folds. She begins to rub gently at your clit. Light teasing touches that send you hurdling toward an orgasm but aren't quite enough to send you over the edge.

You hear Carol's smooth voice behind you "are you close, baby? I can feel you squeezing my fingers and can see that sweet little cunt of yours fluttering around my cock."

You nod, before remembering to answer affirmatively verbally. Desperate to ease just a bit of your discomfort, you shift forward a tiny bit, resting more heavily on your arms and slightly relieving the pressure of Carol's cock pressing against your cervix and the deep press of her fingers in your ass.

Carol didn't have to-- she could tell you were trying so hard to be a good girl for her--but this time she just wanted to. She smacked your already sore ass cheek hard three times for forgetting to answer her verbally. Carol knew she would enjoy seeing the bruises tomorrow as much she was enjoying putting them there tonight. Carol slips her free arm under your stomach and drags you back toward her, more than making up for any marginal ground you may have gained in your attempt to adjust and mounting you more firmly on her cock and fingers.

You whimper and stop moving, simply shuddering and moaning in time with Carol's thrusts.

Her fingers return to your clit, rubbing and pinching until your body is tight with tension, ready to snap and tumble into the orgasm she's been building you towards. Carol's fingers quicken their pace, drawing small tight circles over your bud as you feel your cunt tightening and the coil inside you snaps. Carol continues her thrusts, more forceful now to get past your quivering flesh. Your body shivers and shudders as the pleasure courses through you, made all the more intense by Carol's continued movements. She forces you right through this climax and violently into another. All the while you hear her voice saying how happy she is that you're together now, and that she can't wait to do this everyday.

You're overstimulated; sore and tired. Carol slows her thrusts before pulling her fingers and cock out of you. Your body sags in relief. She removes her strap and positions herself at the head of the bed. She grabs you from your prone position and pushes you down until your head rests between her legs. Hands weave back into your hair, and she pushes your face into her slippery wet cunt, telling you to lick. You're exhausted and horrified and scared, but you lick her gently- running your tongue up and down her slit, suckling at her clit as she moans. She grabs your head in both hands and continues to maneuver you as she pleases.

Later, after Carol comes on your tongue twice, you lay curled in her bed, shocked and softly crying. She returns from the bathroom and sits in bed beside you, stroking your hair and back. Though you know better than to question her, you simply can't process that this might be your new reality.

Occasionally Carol slips her fingers over your chest to rub and twist at your sore tits. After a while, she leans over to whisper in your ear. "You cry so pretty baby, but I only want to see you cry on my cock. So if you keep crying, I'll put you there."

A wave of horror runs through you as Carol gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek before sliding into bed behind you and tugging you close into the cocoon of her body. You wipe your tears on her pillow and pray for sleep to take you.

#dark fic #tw dark fic #dark carol danvers x female reader #dark carol danvers x reader #dark!carol danvers #tw smut #dark!carol #avengers smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x reader #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon #for keeps series

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apocalypse-shuffle · 2 years

Text

VALKYRIE | KING VALKYRIE (the mcu)

────────────────────

“Is This Okay?” (Valkyrie x Fem!Reader)

| Tired from covering for Valkyrie while she’s on her mission to save New Asgard’s children, you go into her house for something and end up falling asleep on her bed.

| Reader is always black unless I say differently

| SFW, establishing relationship, it’s just fluff/kissing and some shy!reader

| 1k+ words

At the sound of a knob turning you stir and blearily lift up your head. A woman’s silhouette stands in the door.

“You warming my bed?”

In the near darkness of the bedroom, the only light sources are coming from the now open door and the cracks in the window blinds, you make a quiet amused sound.

“Not on purpose,” you rub your eyes with a sniff. “I just came to get something and passed out.”

“Oh? What were you looking for?”

You look around the room but absolutely nothing rings a bell.

“Honestly, I don’t even remember, but I’m sure it’s in my itinerary somewhere.”

She laughs softly. You can just barely make out the glint of metal as she shifts.

You yawn, eyes flitting over her some more. Despite having literally been hospitalized you could tell from her voice alone she was more lively than she’s been in a while.

“Nope. I’d much rather stick to helping make all this easier for you as your assistant.”

“Which you do brilliantly, Ms. L/n.”

“Thank you,” you incline your head at her. “Now did they let you out or did you let yourself out?”

“You know I don’t like infirmaries. Hate being inactive for that long.”

You bring your hand up to scrunch your hair briefly, it’s going to be knotted and dry as hell tomorrow without your wrap. You don’t even want to think about the friction on your edges.

“Yeah, I know.”

The both of you stare at one another before she walks in and shuts the door behind her. She takes a good look at the way the moonlight illuminates the brown of your skin and you sit up to see her better.

A grin takes over her face, her eyes traveling over your body.

“So is this going to be a regular thing?”

You blink up at her, “Is what going to be a regular thing?”

Still dressed in her armor your King chuckles before walking over to the closet. She bends over to shuck off her boots.

“You could keep playing coy with me, or you could get me in that bed faster,” she shrugs off the top pieces of her armor with a glance over her shoulder at you. Getting undressed in record time. “Your decision.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, mind obsessing over what exactly to say. You’ve been “seeing” Valkyrie for almost two months now. She had tossed you a key to her place when you were still in the shuffling-around-each-other stage for official purposes, and you’d never used it till now. And now you were in this situation together.

“You don’t want me to leave?”

Her eyebrows go up and down as she leans against the wall in shorts and an Oklahoma revival shirt.

“No,” she flicks something from under her nail before meeting your eyes again. “I just want a straight answer from you Princess.”

You duck your head, nails clinking together as you fiddle with the edge of your top.

“I mean,” you shrug. “I’d like it to be.”

Valkyrie’s silent for a couple beats right until the bed dips down and one of her knuckles is placed under your chin. You blink up at her, mouth parting slightly as she lifts your head.

“You’d like…what? You’re a big girl, use your words.”

You swallow at her intense regard. She glances down from your eyes to the plush of your lips while licking her own, before they bounce back to meet your gaze and your breathing gets just that much harsher.

“I’d like to, um- I’d like to make waking up in your bed a regular thing,” your voice drops into a whisper. “My King.”

Valkyrie makes a quiet noise in the back of her throat as you breathe in the same air.

“See,” she murmurs. “That’s all you had to say.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. The finger on your chin shifts and her hand moves to splay across your cheek.

“I’d like that too,” she breathes out before her lips are on yours.

It’s a simple kiss. Your mouths lock together naturally for a few moments before you gasp for little breaths and then automatically meld back together. Her tongue pushes for entrance and you grant it after only a few beats.

Valkyrie groans and then you’re being pressed against her. Capable hands grasp at your hips and bring the two of you closer together. You come up on your knees for her and the kiss deepens at the better angle, making you shiver.

When she eventually pulls away due to your incessant need for air the way she’s looking at you from so close makes your face warm. After a few awkward moments of catching your breaths a chuckle pushes past your lips and you pull back, hands dropping down to once again fiddle in your lap.

You force yourself to meet her eyes before you speak. “So does this mean we’re actually dating now?”

Valkyrie hums and leans forward, hand coming up to cradle your face so you can’t run away again, and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“If you’ll allow it, I’d love to,” she smirks. “Especially if dating means having you in my arms more often.”

“Gods above,” you exclaim softly before pushing at her.

She laughs at your embarrassment as she lays down next to you under her blanket. Feeling her thigh brush up against the length of your own ratchets up the heat in your face even more and the way she pulls you down into her makes you feel like you’re about to explode.

Your throat clicks before, in a bid to calm down, you bring up something that’d crossed your mind earlier.

“Why’d you have your armor on if you were at the hospital?”

“Just in case,” her hand rubs down your side. You only shiver a little more.

You nod your head minutely where your forehead is pressed against her shoulder.

“Of course,” she pinches you on the hip for your glibness and you giggle. “I’m just saying. What do you want to do now?”

“Cuddle,” her hand briefly brushes over the curve of your ass before wrapping around your waist. “For tonight at least.”

“Really?”

You’re throwing your hands over her middle and snuggling more into her body regardless of your question though. She definitely wasn’t acting like she wanted you gone so you might as well take advantage.

“Fuck yes. I was stabbed, I want to cuddle.”

NOTES: Valkyrie’s was the highlight of Thor: Love and Thunder for me so obviously something had to give. I thought about the phrase “warming my bed” and built everything else around it. Please ignore any typos I’ll catch them eventually.

Hope you enjoyed!

#thor love and thunder #valkyrie x black!reader #valkyrie x reader #black!reader #black y/n #king valkyrie x black!reader #valkyrie mcu #valkyrie #king valkyrie #valkyrie imagine

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stargirlstudio · 2 years

Note

How would Enzo react if you stole his clothing 🤲

Memento

Dmitri “Enzo” Antonov x Reader

Warning: depictions of violence

Part 1 (you’re here!)

Part 2

When you came out of his room, you were wearing one of his old shirts. It was probably the oldest shirt in his closet, worn with little holes and a tear at the shoulder. “It’s cold. You know better than to wear something like that, you’ll freeze,”

“Dmitri, it’s not that cold,” You said, chattering your teeth. “I’m fine,”

“I’m starting to think you do this on purpose,” He said as he held your hand. He looked through what little clothes he had. He picked up a dark sweater and some smaller sized pants. “This should be okay, no?” He said. You began taking off your shirt, Dmitri quickly turned around. “I will…wait for you outside,” He said quickly. Rushing out of his room and into the kitchen. Fuck fuck fuck. He should occupy his time. “Maybe I’ll get us some cold water,” He said aloud. “Wait no, I should go heat up some soup,” He said again.

Dmitri was too preoccupied with his thoughts he didn’t hear you come out. “I’m sorry, did I scare you?”

“No no it’s my fault, I should have left sooner. I was just spacing out. I mean I didn’t even see anything I swear,”

“I meant when I came out of the bedroom,”

Dmitri mouthed a silent “o”. You laughed at his predicament. You have never seen this side of him. It was refreshing. “Are you okay now? Feeling warm yet?” You nodded. “Do you want soup?”

“I’m okay,” You waited. “Can we go to bed?” Dmitri agreed. He followed you to your temporary shared bedroom. You both snuggled together, huddling for warmth.

“You should steal my clothes more often…you look cute,” He said softly. “Looks better on you than me,”

“It’s not stealing if you let me have it,” You joked. He draped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I can’t wait to though,”

“You better. If you want, you can take something of mine,” He whispered. “Maybe something to remember me by,” He droned, his voice growing weary. Your time with him is limited. He was risking his life to make sure you went home. He knew the risks, but as he laid with you in his pajamas, he’s never felt safer. If his life were to end tomorrow, there would be no regrets.

“I’ll just steal all your clothes later! You don’t need something to remember me by. I can get you something else,”

“The thought of you is enough,” He thought.

——

“Go (y/n)! You have to go now!” Dmitri yelled, pushing you towards the helicopter. “It’s dangerous for you, go go!” You could barely hear him over the blades whirring and the gunshots firing. No matter how many men were shot down, the chaos never backed down. Not even once. You both hid behind some bramble and rocks. He took off his coat, making you wear it. “If you go along the tree line, you’ll blend in more. Head straight to the helicopter and you should be free,”

“But what about you, aren’t you coming too?” You asked. Dmitri said nothing, just brushing your hair from your face. “You have to come with me it’s the only way you’ll live. You’ll be a dead man if you stay behind,” You pleaded. “You can’t!”

Dmitri guided you towards the path. “Go ahead I’ll catch up I’ll distract them,” You doubted his words, until gunshots sprayed near you causing you to run faster. Joyce and Hopper called out to you, grabbing you and pulling you up.

You turned around, horrified to see the helicopter so high. Dmitri with his knees buried in the snow, his hands up in defeat. This isn’t right. “Go down! We have to get him, we have to help him”

“We need to go,” Joyce told you. “I’m so sorry,”

Dmitri watched as the helicopter disappeared beyond what he could see. The lights were so bright it consumed him. You were safe now and so was he.

——

It was time to move on, to pack up and leave. It had been years since you last heard from Dmitri. Almost a decade. You had almost forgotten about the jacket he gave you.

“You’ll blend in,” You vaguely remembered him saying. It no longer reminded you of him, it wasn’t familiar, it lost its smell. Every speck of dirt and blood was wiped away years ago, it might as well been someone else’s. But it wasn’t, it was supposed to be Dmitri’s.

Yet here you stood, in your almost empty bedroom, clutching the jacket he gave you.

Something you can remember him by.

——

A/N: The ending is left up to your interpretation. I think I was supposed to do headcanons, which I can do (so if someone wants that let me know) I don’t know why I was in a mood to write something heavy or at least a bit angsty. My apologies anon!

#stranger things #dmitri antonov #dmitri antonov x reader #enzo stranger things #fanfic #fanfiction

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vermillionbun · 2 years

Note

hello!!!!!! i read ur cat xiao fics and ugh just *chef kiss* 😭🤌 and i have a request? brainrot??? ask???? i guess????????

so after a not too long of living together, xiao maybe slips up and mentions that his birthday is coming soon and reader decides to surprise him with a little party at home and get him a gift but the catch is, reader is super bad at choosing gifts so they decide to enlist the help of their friend(s). one day xiao accidentally overhears the reader talking to their friend on the phone but only small little snippets like “hybrid, shop, money” and he immediately assumes the worst but decides to wait a while and see if the reader’s planning smt. soon he confronts us abt it bc he just can’t take it anymore and we have to awkwardly explain him everything and cue a flustered, on the verge of tears, kitty xiao bc he misunderstood it all😔

I'm so sorry it took so long T<T. I rewrote this thing multiple times, since I didn't like how it turned out and then there was Ani-fest this weekend in my town, so I also went there. Also (F/n) stands for 'Friend's name'. I know, very creative, but what else could I really put?

But, without further or do, hope you enjoy ^^

<---------------------------------------------------------------------------->

‘Hmm, I wonder when Master will be back’. I don’t track the exact time they come home, but they’re back before sunset and it’s almost fully dark now. *Tap* *Tap* *Tap*. Footsteps. Someone is coming up the stairs outside. I straighten my ears and raise my body as the footsteps get closer to the front door. “...I don’t know… hybrid shop… money…worth it?...”. I feel a shiver run down my spine. ‘What was that?…’. What do they mean? It’s obvious the conversation is cut off, but these words… Something doesn’t feel right. ‘Wait… Are, are they going to get rid of me!? No no no, it can’t be, can it? They promised, th-they…’. I could feel the fur on my face getting wet. Master wouldn’t do that, would they?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“(F/n), you aren’t helping. Not only is everything overpriced, but it’s usually garbage quality. I was thinking of getting him a small accessory or something more sentimental. Sure the toys and extras at the store could be entertaining for normal cats, but he’s a hybrid. He didn’t look interested in any of the toys when we went there the first time, plus, one of the few things he plays with is yarn, which, you guessed it, I can buy at a craft store. Anyways, I’ve been standing in front of my door for 15 min now, we’ll talk tomorrow. Have a good night.”.

I sigh, closing my phone. I’m still lost. Xiao doesn’t have a lot of interests. The few things he likes are almond tofu and yarn, but I’m not about to buy him that for his birthday. He already sees small things like that as a privilege, I’m not going to make him think he’s restricted to things he enjoys only on special occasions!

Twisting the key, I enter my apartment, expecting Xiao to be looking at the door from the corner, but… he isn’t? ‘Huh, weird. Maybe he fell asleep in my room? He doesn’t seem to be in the living room.”. I take off my shoes and head to my room. As expected, Xiao’s laying on my bed, but something doesn’t feel right. He’s curled up a lot tighter than usual and his face is tucked in his paws like he’s trying to hide his face. ‘This doesn’t feel right’.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I can feel myself giggle again. Tomorrow is finally Xiao’s birthday and, admittedly, I've been way too giddy the past few days. I’ve hidden his gift in my backpack in my closet and I have almond tofu at the back of the fridge ready for tomorrow.

Coming out of the bathroom, I stretch and continue to dry my hair with a towel. ‘Wait, it’s Friday night now. I can spend the whole day tomorrow with Xiao!’. A smile tugs at my face as I enter my bedroom. Xiao is sitting on my bed in his catboy form, wearing a loose gray shirt and black shorts. His brows are furrowed, mouth in a frown and eyes staring at the floor. He seems to be deep in thought. "Achem, Xiao, is something wrong?". His head snaps up, as his body suddenly tenses up. His mouth keeps opening and closing, trying to say something. ‘Are…are those tears!?’. His eyes get watery as a tear slips from one of them.

Dropping the towel in my hand, I rushed to his side. “Xiao, baby, is something wrong?”. His body turns slightly, hands grabbing onto my shirt and clutching it tightly. “You-you promised!”. He said through choked sobs. His whole body is shaking as he’s burying his face in my shoulder, tears soaking my shirt. “Sweetheart, everything is alright, no need to panic.”- I say as I pat his head.

Little by little his choked sobs are reduced to quiet sniffles. By this time my hand has settled by the end of his head, twirling a lock of his hair between my fingers. “There there, a bit better?”. He nuzzled his head closer to my neck, hugging me tighter, as he let out a low hum in agreement. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”. He lifted his head, red, puffy and teary eyes looking at me. “You won’t abandon me too, right?” “Of course not, why would you ever think that?”. He looked down in shame, blush creeping up his cheeks from embarrassment. “A couple day ago, I overheard a conversation you had over the phone…It was something about the hybrid shop and if something is worth it, so I-I th-thought…I-I’m sorry…”. Xiao was tearing up again.

Tucking him into my chest, I kissed his head. ”Oh sweetheart, I would never. I was talking about something drastically different”. Getting up, I head to the closet, taking a small teal box with a black and yellow ribbon wrapped around. “I was supposed to give this to you tomorrow, but I suppose I can do it now too. Happy early birthday Xiao”.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taking the box in his hands, he undoes the ribbon, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Opening it, his eyes widened. There layed a silver necklace of a vermilion bird, black stones engraved at the tips of it’s tails and wings and a green gem for it’s eye. It seems you noticed the tattoo on his arm. Memories come flooding back as tears appear in his eyes again. “Thank you”. Was all he said and that was all that needed to be said.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Safe to say he still hasn’t, nor does he plan to, take the necklace off. You spend the rest of the night cuddling until you both fell asleep and the next day was spent in a similar fashion, along with almond tofu and having to untangle Xiao from yarn a couple times.(You may have gotten a bit annoyed after the 3rd time, but could you REALLY deny the way his eyes sparkle every time he starts messing with the yarn and when Xiao looks at you with those cute wide doe eyes as an apology and an ask for help yet again)

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And that's all for now for our lovable catboy <3 Also, apparently while writing this my brain decided to expand on the lore even more, so would anyone be interested in those 'memories' that flooded Xiao's mind when he saw the neckless?(May or may not lead to future angst)

Taglist: @vault-of-reblogs @sweet-almonds @venyan @traumamakesmefunnier @nillajhayne @apyrose @crowbird @reisinnie @sweetsandwichgardener @mizutatoes @clxudy-sky3z @moguu0

#genshin xiao #xiao #xiao fluff #catboy xiao #catboy!xiao #genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao x you #twilight theater

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lolitaa-17 · 1 year

Text

-compass; R.braun x f!reader

warnings; angst idk,fluff,cussing, not romanticizing mental health.

Not proofread

Music was softly playing through your headphones as you looked out the window. The sun was starting to rise. You blinked as you felt as if your eyes were going droopy. You don’t know how many months it’s been since you’ve had a good nights rest.

“Y/n what the fuck are you doing awake so early” you roommate spat out a little spooked.

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked pausing your music and taking off your headphones.

“No not at all you just spooked me out.” She rubbed her face with hands trying to wake herself up. “I have early classes today anyway”

Which reminded you that you needed to start getting ready for work since you had to open today. “Oh okay, I’m gonna head out to the bathrooms.”

You grab your towel and the basket that had all your hygiene stuff.

After returning back from the bathrooms you put on some jeans a black tee shirt. You grab the apron sitting on the chair and the hat you had to wear for work.

It was like a repeating cycle. Work…school…”sleep”. You just wanted it to end already. You were tired of this and you felt as if there was no point because in the end you will always be doing the same cycle no matter what occupation.

Your phone alarm rang signaling you that it was time to head to work. You grab your car keys and the pack of cigarettes that had been sitting next to the keys and you head out.

You really didn’t have much of a social life on campus. You just wanted to get school over with so you didn’t involve yourself much of the parties. Of course you went to some but just small ones here and there. The only “social life” you really had was at work. Your job consists of you, Sasha, Niccolo and Reiner. They were your work buddies but it was only mainly just small talk.

You enter the dark coffee shop and start setting everything up for the day. After setting everything up you heard the bell of the front door jingle. You look up to see Reiner.

“Hey y/n!” He lets out a small smile

“Hey”

He starts setting up some stuff here and there. He was honestly a very sweet boy. You thought of how attractive he was and how he’d cheese over some cheerleader who he was madly in love with her. Once he told you about her you immediately knew you stood no chance.

“So what do you plan on doing this weekend?” He asked as he’s unpacking some new cups.

“Probably go to the beach and just sit around” It was one of your favorite things to do especially in paradis.

“It’s still pretty chilly out though, don’t you think?” He asked.

“I prefer it like that”

“Well I have an extra ticket to this amusement park-“

You nod your head before he could even finish.

“What why?” He was basically begging you to answer him.

“Reiner I don’t do amusement parks, plus I don’t wanna third wheel.” His smile dropped.

“Well it’ll just be the two of us.” He goes to the storage closet as you felt the mood change.

Had something happen between him and that cheerleader. You then thought about how he hasn’t really been bringing her up at work at much, or at all even.

The door bell jingled again revealing Sasha and Niccolo. They always arrived at the same time especially for the fact that they had been living together in their small apartment. They were honestly really cute and you envied them.

After a long five hours of your shift you could finally leave as you four switched with the other four workers who had just started checking in. You said bye to Sasha and Niccolo. You didn’t know where Reiner was so you just left.

After reaching your car you hear your name being called out.

“Y/n, wait up!” Reiner was running toward you.

“Oh hey”

“W-wanna go to the um beach?” He asked trying to catch his breath.

“I have class in like 30 minutes.”

“No no not today. Tomorrow”

“But I thought you were gonna go to the amusement park” you were a bit confused

“I gave the tickets to Sasha and Niccolo”

“Are you sure? I’m kind of boring out of work” you forcefully laugh.

His gaze soften “yeah I’m sure I want to go”

“Okay I’ll um text you when I’ll be going, I’ll pick you up” you wave at him as you enter your car and make your way to your dorm to change into something more comfortable for class.

There you were again. But this time you lie down facing the wall in hopes you wouldn’t freak out your roommate again. You thought you slept a good hour or so but it had only been a 5 minute nap. You check the time.

3:45am

You sigh and sit up from your bed. You slipped on your slippers and grabbed a lighter and the pack of cigarettes on the counter.

You sat right next to the door outside of the building of the dorms. It was pretty cold as you sat out there with a pair of blue checkered boxers and a large white tee. You inhaled the smoke from the cigarette. This felt like peace. Just nights like this. But for some reason you still felt some void that needed to be filled.

As you leaned your head back and blew the smoke out your mouth you felt car lights pull up in the parking lot right in front of you.

“Y/n what the hell are you doing out here in the cold.”

You look up and see Reiner getting out of his car.

You lifted up the cigarette to show him.

“I told you to stop smoking the other day y/n” he walks over to you as he took off his jacket and put it over you.

“Well why are you out so late?” you asked him in hopes of changing the subject.

“Couldn’t sleep so I went to the pharmacy to grab melatonin.” He reached in his back and opened the pack of the melatonin gummies.

“You think those actually work?” You bitterly chuckled.

“They always do for me” he said popping two or three in his mouth.

“That must be nice” you put the cigarette up to your mouth again but this time Reiner took it and threw it to the other side of the grass.

“What the fuck man” you softly punch his leg.

“Here I got something better.” He reaches in the plastic bag and grabs out a pack of gummy worms.

“Fine.”

“Here let’s head to my room” Reiner says

“But your roommate.” You say looking up at him as he got up.

“He’s at some interview for a couple days, he’s not here right now.” He reaches his hand out to help you up.

You guys make your way to his dorm. It wasn’t how you expected it. It was cleaner than you expected. Cleaner than your dorm.

You threw yourself on reiners bed.

“How come your bed is much more softer.”

“Shit I bought a whole new one, no way was I gonna sleep on that piece of cardboard”

You softly chuckle sitting up to let some space for Reiner.

You shove a few gummies in your mouth. He looks at how you’re destroying those gummies.

“Mentally noted that you fuck those gummies up”

You roll your eyes and hand him one.

“Shut up.”

The silence was getting really loud when suddenly you remembered he had bought melatonin to sleep.

“Wait I’m sorry I should go, you probably wanna knock the fuck out right now.”

He laughs “nah you’re good.”

“No really you look tired as shit”

“Nah I like the company” he says as he laid down next to you while he stared at the ceiling.

“Reiner I have to ask you something.”

“Hmm?”

“What happened with you and that cheerleader chick?” You asked him while popping s gummy worm into your mouth.

“Oh her. Yeah um turns out she has a girlfriend.” He softly laughed at himself.

You stopped chewing at the sudden news.

“Your over her though right?” You asked breaking the silence.

“Oh definitely, ever since she told me we’ve been chill.” He sighed as he closed his eyes.

“Sorry for bringing it up.”

“No you’re good. I was planning on telling you anyway.”

“Can you sleep with me?” Reiner spoke again.

“What?”

“Never mind sorry. There’s just been so much going on lately and-“

“No I get it. I’ll stay” you smile and lay down next to him.

“Sometimes we just need people when we’re at our lowest.” You whispered

Maybe you needed someone too. Maybe that’s why you’ve always felt empty. You never bothered talking to people out of work on your free time and your roommate? You guys would have little “sups” here and there but that’s it. But right now you felt. Filled. Like you didn’t feel empty anymore. And you liked it.

You grabbed Reiners hand and rubbed it. You look over and he had knocked out. You smile to yourself. How peaceful he looked sleeping but what was he feeling? Was he hiding the fact that he was hurt by the girl he liked rejected him? It hurt you just thinking about it. A little jealous, but you never made a move so how could you be jealous?

“I think I like you Reiner. I think you are worthy of saving me” you whispered while he was soundly sleeping.

Soon enough you heard the birds chirping and but the sun wasn’t out. It was cloudy. You sighed hoping today would be sunny when you went to the beach.

The whole night you laid there with him. Admiring his features as he slept like a baby. His eyes fluttered open and he looked over at you.

“You’re awake already ??” His voice was a lot deeper.

“mhm”

“You look like you didn’t even sleep holy shit” he cupped your face to have a good look at it.

You pull away and pinched his cheeks “hurry up and change so we can go to the beach already.”

He got up and started looking for clothes as he was still half asleep.

“Let me go change too, meet me at my car” you told him as you step out of his room.

You both entered the car after making a quick stop at the gas station to grab a couple snacks. You took a sip from your energy drink while you could feel Reiners gaze on you.

“Y/n…when was the last time you actually slept.” He asked causing you to brake really hard at the stop sign.

“Im sorry i didn’t mean to press on the brakes that hard”

“You gonna answer me or what?”

You sighed “I don’t really…remember Reiner”

“I mean I wanted to sleep yesterday but..” you slowly stopped trying not to confess your feelings towards him.

“But what?”

You parked the car. “We’re here Reiner”

You got out the car before Reiner could even speak. Was this gonna be the day to tell him that you needed him? Did you need him? He made you feel better. His company was warm.

You walked close to the shore as the waves seemed slow but heavy. You loved it. They grey tint to the sky was beautiful. And no one was here just you two.

You sat down and took in a deep breath.

“Isn’t this nice” you look at Reiner who still seemed to be waiting for an answer.

“Y/n…can you talk to me about this? I want to help you” you look at him and his gaze softened.

“Reiner im scared” you whispered.

He sits next to you and pulls you into a side hug. He never let go.

“Scared of what y/n”

“Im scared you’ll push me away…after I tell you what I feel.”

“No of course I won’t, you stuck with me what makes you think I’m gonna leave you.”

You took a deep breath as you felt Reiners hand caress your back.

“Reiner, I’ve always thought there was no point in living if it’s just an endless cycle. Everyday for me is the same. I can’t sleep. I’ve tried everything melatonin,Tea, warm milk, everything Reiner. But I can’t…it’s like I feel empty and my thoughts are just keeping me awake stopping me from sleeping. But yesterday I was with you and it changed. I felt warm and quiet and I was genuinely tired and I wanted to sleep but I was scared that if I close my eyes just for one second you’d be gone. And I just wanted to admire how peaceful you looked and I realized that you made me feel a type of way I’ve never felt with anyone. And I think I like you Reiner.” You look over and see that he tries to process it all.

He smiled “So you’re saying I make you feel better?”

“Basically”

“Listen y/n”

Your heart dropped…you didn’t know if what he was gonna say was either gonna be good or bad.

“I’ve been really off these days lately too and I found myself always getting up extra early to go to work and spend my time with you. And if you want me to be honest. I bought those tickets for us, not me and historia. I wanted to get to know you more and see you outside of work. And yesterday night you made my week feel so much better. I’ve fallen for you too y/n”

You sigh in relief as you dropped down on your back as you felt Reiner lay down next to you.

“So I want to spend more time with you and go on more little dates with you.” He smiled pulling you in as you guys cuddled in the sand.

You felt your eyes slowly drift. You let out a breath before soundly falling asleep in the arms of Reiner. You loved it and you were happy that most days we’re gonna consist of you two being together and Inseparable.

The end

I don’t know if this was good, I’m sorry if I made any mistakes. My head was aching the whole time making this but I just wanted to get it over with so I hope you all enjoy!

#reiner x you #reiner braun #reiner braun fluff #aot #anime #angst #fluff #Reiner Braun angst

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imonlyhereforthexreaders · 2 years

Text

Gold Rush (part 3)

(Benny Watts x reader)

Warnings: the overused “only one bed trope” and the “huddle for warmth trope”

Summary: Sharing a bed with your biggest rival is hard enough, in a freezing room it’s even harder

“Hope you brought thick socks”

The question seemed to catch Benny by surprise as he paused in the process of rubbing his hair dry with a towel to raise a questioning eyebrow.

“I went to turn on the heat, you know, because it’s January and we’re on Canada’s doorstep. But there’s only a space heater in the main bedroom and even though it’s fighting for its life, it’s not achieving much” you clarified, nodding toward the heating unit which was rumbling like a locomotive.

He chuckled lightly, “so you’re telling me I get to choose between a warm floor or a cold couch?”

“I’m telling you that although those two options are available to you, a third option stands” he cocks his head,

“I’m interested”

“You could be in a warm bed with the downside being sharing with me” his eyes widen ever so slightly at the offer “I wouldn’t want to ruin your decency though” you add with a teasing tone, hoping to lighten the tension you could feel building. Despite practically growing up beside Benny, you had never spent this much time together in this private of a setting, and you didn’t want to push it into uncomfortable territory. Luckily he laughed at your remark,

“Oh forget my decency, I was thinking you were going to offer to sacrifice your comfort for mine and take the floor. Seeing as I’m the reason you have a place to stay and all.” His voice dripped with a playful sarcasm which you returned readily with a scoff.

“As if, you’re the gentleman here, I’m cutting your expenses in half, and I need my beauty sleep; I don’t think any amount of rest will fix that damage” you tease, nodding towards him. He feigned hurt, pressing a hand dramatically over his chest.

“I guess we’ll both take the bed and wake up beautiful and indecent tomorrow” you smile and agree to the compromise, already grabbing extra quilts from the laundry room, which you had taken the precaution to wash after seeing the state of the rest of the amenities provided. They were warm and welcoming coming out of the dryer and you took full advantage of the fact, wrapping your body in a cocoon of wool and shuffling back towards your now decidedly shared bedroom.

“Any of those for me?” He asked in amusement, looking back at you from the closet where he was unloading the contents of his duffel bag.

“My magic 8 ball says that it’s unlikely” you reply through a content sigh as you curl up in the center of the bed. He now stands at the foot of the bed, gazing over your form with a mix of amusement and adoration.

“I bet your magic 8 ball didn’t take the possibility of force being used into consideration” he replies wickedly, collapsing over you and wrestling one of the blankets off your body. You squeal in defense, rolling wildly out of his grasp, tugging all your blankets even closer to your body. However, with his leverage from above he’s able to pry your arms open, allowing himself access into your tight cocoon which you immediately weaponize. Wrapping the blankets tightly around the both of you.

“The blankets and I are a package deal I’m afraid” you laugh into his chest which your face is uncomfortably pressed against from below, bodies flush against each other and legs entangled. There’s something familiar in the scent rising from his skin under the dark tee shirt he wore. Had he used your soap? Maybe he just forgot to bring his own.

“I suppose I can live with that, that heater really isn’t doing much anyways” He was right, the air was getting colder by the minute now that the sun had set, and despite the labored growl of the heating unit proving its power, it’s effects couldn’t be felt.

“Yeah, I think I’ll go get ready for bed and move the heater closer for what that’s worth” with that thought you somewhat hesitantly untangle yourself from Benny to head to the bathroom. You grab your pajamas from the opposite closet where Benny had unpacked as well as any toiletries needed. You tried to go through your routine as quickly as possible, the satin button up shirt and pant set not doing much to warm you on the cold tiled floor.

Once finished you practically jumped back into bed, clenching your teeth to mask the incessant chattering of your teeth. Benny moving from beside you to complete his own routine, likely with the same sentiment as he returned just as quickly although between his thicker sweatpants and shirt he looked substantially more comfortable with the temperature of the room.

“Let me in (y/n) we had a deal” you hesitantly raise the blankets, allowing both Benny and the cold air to join you in bed.

“Goodnight” you whispered, trying to disguise the shake in your voice as you turned your back to him curling into the fetal position in an attempt to retain warmth. It must have worked as he returned the goodnight, switching off the bedside light and laid down onto the pillow. You tried to control the shivering of your body until you finally heard his breathing even out to the point you were sure he was asleep. At that point you allowed your body to shake as you pulled the mountain of blankets tighter into your body as an attempt to warm yourself, it seemed to work a little but not enough to be comfortable. You tried to subtly rub your hands and feet together as well to create some heat in your blanket cocoon.

“You alright over there?” The question was quiet and groggy, coming from behind you. You froze and focused once again on steadying your voice.

“Yeah, sorry, just trying to get comfortable” he mumbled some form of understanding, reaching out to pat your shoulder as an acceptance of your reasoning. “Jesus..” he mumbled, you thought this was in annoyance at having been awoken from his sleep, but you felt the bed shift in addition to the statement. His chest pressed up against your back, tucking his legs into the bend of yours and slinging an arm over yours, gently running his hands over the goosebump ridden skin of your arm.

“Benny?” His name falls from your mouth in a confused manner, freezing under his touch.

“Shh, just relax and go to sleep. This is warmer” his voice was creaky and relaxed, you wondered if during his whole ordeal he had even bothered to open his eyes or his body simply worked to pacify the issue keeping him from sleep which happened to be you. Whatever the reason, you were grateful, his body was warm and fit against yours comfortably. Taking his advice you relaxed into his touch and allowed yourself to drift into a much easier sleep.

#readerinsert #fluff #xreader #benny watts #benny watts x reader #the queens gambit #queens gambit #one bed trope

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mery-cm99 · 2 years

Text

In the Stars (Cp. 9)

In the Stars Masterlist

Description: Harper doesn't want any pilot near her, at least as far as possible. But that's really difficult when you work around them. She has managed to keep her “no pilots'' rule to date. That's until Bradley Bradshaw enters the Hard Deck like a great wave, destroying everything in his way and smashing all the walls Harper had built all this years ago.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x plus size!OC

Warnings: Mention of trauma, blood, crashes and sad stuff in general. There's some spice and mention of sex, but nothing too explicit. English is not my first language, so sorry in advance for any grammar or spelling errors.

Rating: Teens and up

Chapter: 9/11

Word Count: 2,083 words.

NOTE: There's some spice at the end, iykyk. But nothing too explicit.

Harper looked in the mirror frowning. She had put on a blue summer dress with daisies, sandals and wore her hair in a braid, but now she was considering her decision. She didn’t want to look too dressed up to go have a few beers with a bunch of pilots. What did you wear for that occasion? She sighed and walked back to her closet intending to pull out some short jeans and a blouse, but she heard her bell ring. She cursed under her breath and pulled out her denim jacket to come down to open. On the other side she found a smiling Bradley. He wore a Hawaiian shirt (What a surprise!), although this was a dark green with red flowers, which highlighted his tanned skin. He wore it closed, only with the upper buttons open, which glimpse of his naked chest. In addition, he wore jeans and his aviators. He lowered his glasses with his index finger to look at her.

“You look gorgeous” he assured, and Harper could almost see him drooling. Apparently it had not been such a bad idea to put on the dress.

“Thanks!” she replied, entertained in picking up her keys from the entrance so he didn’t see that he had made her nervous.

The man waited for her to close the door and then accompanied her to the car and opened the passenger door for her, earning a new “thank you” from her. The short trip to the Hard Deck felt even shorter while they listened to music and sang the lyrics, Bradley loudly and Harper low but with a smile on her face. Music had always been important in her life, she liked how you could express a lot of thighs with the righst song, how your mood could change and you could feel everything the artist had felt while making the song. And hearing Bradley’s voice only made it better.

Once at the Hard Deck, Bradley gestured for her to enter first and then guided her with one hand on her lower back to the darts area, where some of his colleagues were already.

“Guys, this is Harper, our doctor. I guess you don’t need me to tell you their names”

“It’s not necessary” she confirmed amused.

“Harper, come. Sit here” Phoenix offered, pointing to the stool beside her. Next to the woman was Bob, who seemed to never part from his pilot. “Rooster told us you will come with us tomorrow” she began.

“Yeah. I’ll be your doctor in case you get a migraine while deciding whether to fly with or without sunglasses” she joked. After Bradley had confessed that pilots were terrified of not coming back and didn’t talked about their fears, Harper had decided not to mention the dangers of the mission that night.

“Or if we have a hangover after tonight” commented someone else. Harper turned to look at the blond man, recognizing him as Hangman, the man who apparently wanted to drive Bradley mad. At least it had been before, now they were simply ignoring each other.

“For that too” she nodded with a smile.

“Why Top Gun? Isn’t it a little… boring?” Bob asked this time. “I mean, a doctor at FighterTown doesn’t have much work, you’d have more action in a hospital or on the battlefield”

Harper shrugged her shoulders.

“FighterTown is my home. I’ve always lived here, and I like the atmosphere of the base, so that counteracts the boredom of my work” she explained. The brunette turned when a beer appeared right in front of her face. It was Bradley, who brought many bottles in the other hand, for the rest. Harper thanked him with a smile, accepting the drink, and watched him pass through the rest of his friends repeating the action. Then, he leaned against the pillar next to Harper’s stool and took a sip of his drink.

She was grateful when the conversation drifted away from her and the pilots started joking with each other while playing darts or pool. She was occasionally brought back to the conversation, explaining some anecdote so she could continue the conversation. A while later, Fanboy offered her his cue when he lost to Hangman and she accepted it with a smile as she watched Coyote and the blond man place the balls back on their place to start again.

“Have you ever played?” asked Hangman once they were ready, indicating he let her throw first.

“Sometime” she replied shrugging before hitting the cue ball, which hit the other and sent one straight into the corner net. She changed position and hit another one, getting it in the net too.

“A pilot?” asked Bradley, arms folded, but with a smile. Harper laughed, not noticing the confused looks of the rest.

“Yes. I was taught to play when I was ten. I didn’t even reach the table, I had to use a chair. We played at the base pool when they had some free time. I always thought they let me win so I wouldn’t feel bad” she told them, moving around the table and hitting balls. She got two more before missing.

“You weren’t that bad, apparently” said Phoenix, amused to see Hangman’s frown, who seemed much more focused on the game than before.

“You’re a Navy brat, aren’t you? One of your parents was in the Navy. That’s why you lived on the base” said Halo, the other female pilot. Harper nodded leaning on her cue.

“Yeah, I’m a descendant. Well, I don’t know if I can be considered one because my father was a pilot and I’m a doctor. The funny thing is that when I was a kid I wanted to be like you, like him. I wanted to be a pilot” she told them. Not even Bradley knew that.

“What changed your mind?” asked Bob curiously. Bradley was about to change the subject to save her, assuming it had to do with her father’s death, but she beat him to it.

“I guess I realized I was more into medicine” she replied sincerely. “That and the fact that I’m afraid of heights” she added half-joking, making the rest laugh.

Bradley had to admit that he was surprised by her answer. Her natural way of admitting her fears, her elegant way of deflecting the questions that she didn’t want. He followed her with his eyes as she continued to play pool with Hangman. Watching her shy smile as the rest jumped to celebrate with her that she had beaten the blond pilot. And he couldn’t but smile when her eyes met his in the commotion. He was really smitten by that incredible woman.

At one point in the evening, they saw Maverick arrive, but instead of approaching them, he headed to the bar to talk to Penny. Harper imagined what was happening. She knew those two had history together, as Amelia had explained to her, so Maverick was saying goodbye to her because it was his last day ashore for a while.

A couple of hours later, Harper began to notice the effect of the three beers she had had. She wasn’t drunk enough to have a hangover the next day or to not know what she was doing, but she did felt lighter, freer. At the time, she was with Phoenix, who was telling her her story at the academy and how she got to be the first of her class. After so long, Harper had to admit she had missed hearing the pilot’s stories, getting out of FighterTown through a story narrated by the protagonist theirself.

“You’re awesome. My father would have liked to have known you and taught you” she assured her, without realizing what she could be revealing with the comment. Phoenix caught it, but didn’t ask her, didn’t want to bother her by asking if her father was dead.

It was really late, and some of the pilots had already gone to rest for the important day they would have the next day. That’s why Bradley approached them after saying goodbye to the rest.

“Come on, Harper. I’m taking you home” he said, offering her a hand to help her get off the high stool. Harper took his hand and after getting down, she turned to look at Phoenix again.

“It was nice to met you, Natasha. See you tomorrow” she said before saing goodbye to Penny and then followed Bradley out of the bar.

The travel back was similar to the one before, with Bradley singing to songs on the radio while hitting his fingers on the steering wheel. Harper, on the other hand, was too focused on controlling herself and not letting her temptations get out of control because his beautiful voice. The alcohol wasn’t exactly helping. Once at her home, they both got off and Bradley walked her to the door.

“Thank you, for tonight. I had a great time” she told him once she had her door open, turning to look at him. He had leaned on the frame like that morning at the base, with his hip and shoulder, arms crossed. But this time Harper was close enough to notice the muscles in his arms tightening the fabric of his Hawaiian shirt and the tanned skin that peeked through the space of his chest.

“It was fine” he confirmed with a small smile, which provoked a new shot in Harper’s nervous system and she squeezed her thighs unconsciously, looking for some friction.

Like on the beach, he didn’t miss the movement and looked up and down as his smile grew bigger. That was the last straw. Throwing her self-control out the window, Harper dropped her purse and keys on the floor and grabbed the fabric of his shirt with a fist to reach up to kiss him once and for all. Bradley let out a surprised noice, which drowned in Harper’s mouth, but instanty kissed her back, wrapping her in his arms and pushed her so that they could enter the house and close the door with his foot. Then he turned them around and pushed her against the locked door so he could keep kissing her.

They parted because of the lack of oxygen and Bradley looked at her with a smile.

“I didn’t know you wanted me so bad” he joked.

Harper gave him a sarcastic laugh before putting her hands up to his neck to pull him down and kiss him again. This time, Bradley was expecting it and it didn’t take him long to keep up. As she entangled her fingers in his curls, he slid his hands down, reaching down to her thighs. He was really obsessed with them, always in his head, imagining how it would feel to have them around him. He took one of her legs up to his hip so they could be even closer. Harper groaned in his mouth as she felt him move between her legs, which ended up turning him on even more.

“Room?” he asked between her lips.

“Room” she confirmed likewise, sliding from his arms to guide him upstairs and to her room. Once inside, Bradley was the one to lured her back to his body to kiss her, and as he did so, he stroked her down her sides to her thighs before climbing again, this time under her dress. “Rooster…” she groaned when she felt it, but he stopped to look at her.

“Don’t. Don’t say that. You can’t call me that” Harper smiled amused. She’d been listening all night to his friends call him Rooster, so it had come out like that. She preferred his real name anyways.

“Okay. Bradley” she whispered close to his ear, getting the man to shiver. She felt powerful, more than ever. Bradley lifted her softly and put her on the bed gently before climbing on her to kiss her again. This time, when he put his hands under her skirt, it was she who stopped him.

“Wait” she murmured nervously.

“What is it?” he asked worried.

“I’ve never done this before” she confessed.

“What? You…” he started confused, and quite surprised.

“Do I have to remind you that I haven't dated any pilot and that’s the only thing I have around?” she pointed out. Bradley smiled and kissed her again, this time more softly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. If something bothers you, don’t hesitate to stop me”

Harper nodded and let go of his wrist, letting him continue.

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@chaoticassidy

#top gun maverick #top gun #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster #rooster fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfic #miles teller #bradley bradshaw

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