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beenbaanbuun · 2 months

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country boy w/ mingi

thinking thoughts about country boy mingi who talks to you in a southern drawl as he leans his upper body on the bonnet of his truck. he’s so shameless with the way he looks you up and down, and you really don’t mind at all. in fact, you almost wish you could swap places with that stupid toothpick he keeps dangling from his pretty lips.

“don’t you think you ought to be getting home, doll?” he croons at you as you push yourself up to sit on the hood. the way your thighs spread against the red metal makes him salivate, but he’s a strong man. he can control himself, “i don’t think your daddy is my biggest fan; he wouldn’t appreciate you hanging around someone like me after sunset.”

as much as you hate to admit it, mingi is right; something about the farm boy from the neighbouring ranch just didn’t sit right with your daddy. maybe it’s his cocky way of speaking, or the rumours that get passed around town by all the pretty buckle bunnies who had their turn with him. the cowboy had built quite a reputation for himself, over the years. he likes to fuck and chuck; he’d rarely beds the same girl twice, and never more than three times. those brief encounters seem to be enough for most of the women you come across in the local bars—they do nothing but rave about how nonchalant and uncaring the cowboy is in bed. apparently, the way he fucks them hard and rough makes him all the more attractive.

yet he was never anything but soft with you. soft smiles, soft words, soft touches. just soft. if only your daddy could see the way he grins at you as he pulls the hat from his head and settles it atop yours, or the way his lithe fingers tighten the string around your chin to secure the hat in place. the deep chuckle that leaves him as the brim falls over your eyes goes straight to your chest, your heart beating unhealthily quick.

“my daddy doesn’t control me,” you push the brim up so you can see his pretty face. his skin is gorgeously tan from all those hours he spends in the field with his boss’s horses. you often watch him from your window, sketchbook in hand as you messily draw him over and over. he doesn’t look quite as good in graphite as he does through the glass of your bedroom window. seeing him like this, so close that you could touch him, is even better, “and i’m not ready to go home yet. besides, didn’t you promise me a ride on mr campbell’s prize pony?

he smiles and it shines brighter than the sun that’s taking its time in sinking below the horizon. his laugh puts the sound of morning birds to shame. his skin is smoother than your daddy’s whiskey, and his eyes sharper than his switchblade. nothing compares to him, you figure as you gaze into his deep hazelnut eyes; you could watch him and never hunger for anything else. you’d be sustained for life.

“sure i did, doll,” he takes the toothpick out and flicks it to the ground. you watch as it lands in the dirt by his dusty leather boots before letting your eyes drag themselves back up his body to reach his eyes. every part of him is just as pretty as the next and you find that the more you stare, the more you want to have him, “but it’s getting to be dark soon, and like i said, your daddy doesn’t approve of me. i’m not quite good enough for his little princess, am i?”

“i think you’re good enough for me,” you blurt out, heat immediately rising to your face as you take in what you’ve just said. humiliating yourself in front of the man you’ve been dreaming about for years is never good, especially not when you see the man almost every day. you look to the floor, cursing yourself as you hear mingi hum in amusement. it’s not for long, though. he catches your chin on one long finger, drawing your eyes back up to his.

“i’m sure you do, doll,” his voice is teasing, as is his lopsided grin. it sends a shiver down your spine as he taunts you, “precious little thing, thinking i don’t see the way you stare at me from your window. i see the hearts in your eyes, y’know. the way they turn green whenever you see me with one of those towny girls. it's cute; you’re cute.”

a huge hand comes to rest on your exposed thigh. you freeze in place, eyes on his, heart in your mouth. then his other hand meets with your other thigh and without any resistance from you, he parts them just enough to shuffle his body between them. you swallow down the knot in your throat as he invades your personal space.

“part of me wants to agree with your daddy; you’re too good for me, doll. you deserve someone better,” his face is too close to yours. you’re holding your breath as if you might blow him away if you were to exhale. his own fans across your face, the scent of mint and menthol filling your senses. suddenly, it’s your favourite smell in the world, “but then again, i tend to be possessive over things i consider to be mine… and i don’t think i could bear it if i were to see my doll hanging off another man’s arm, hm?”

he whispers that last bit, the slow drawl of his accent echoing through your brain, turning your thoughts to mush. you’re sure he can see the effect he’s having on you; the shallow rise and fall of your chest, your swollen lip from where your teeth continuously tug against it, your glazed-over, thoughtless eyes. you’re also sure that it’s only serving to encourage him.

still, even if mingi currently has your legs in a gelatinous state and your heart ticking like a time bomb, your daddy didn’t raise a pushover. a princess, yes, but never a pushover. one of your (extremely shaky) hands finds its way to his chest, pushing at the linen-clad muscles ever-so-gently until he stumbles just a few inches back. despite your eyes not being able to find his face, you know you can do this.

“well, what about you?” your voice is feeble. you clear your throat in the hopes of making it stronger, “you think i like watching you flirt with other women? to hear all those nasty stories about what goes down in the bed of your truck?” the more you talk, the more your courage builds. you look him in the eye, only to see he’s still smirking. that beautiful, infuriating smirk, “you’re not the only possessive one, mingi. if i’m yours, you’re mine—”

the next few seconds happen in a flash, but you can pick out three key events. first, he bullies his way between your thighs again, pushing them wide and pulling you close until his pelvis is flush against yours. then, with a determined hand, he rips the hat away from your head, slamming it down onto the hood of his truck and making you jump. there’s almost no time between that and the final event, though, as before you can say a single thing more, a pair of determined lips find your own.

they’re hot as they trap you in a kiss, moving quickly and sloppily against your own. he’s quick to take charge, fingers pressing deep into the flesh of your thighs as he moves his lips against yours. it’s like he’s been waiting for this for years, and now that he’s finally got it, he’s not willing to let it go. desperate, and hard and fast, it makes your head spin in the most delicious way. so much so, in fact, that you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck to act as some sort of stability as you melt into his touch.

he pulls away for mere seconds, just enough for you to catch your breath, before diving in for more. this time, he leads with his tongue, bullying his way into your mouth as soon as his lips are on yours again. there’s no fight for dominance, the both of you already knowing that he’s the one in charge of this whole ordeal. you just let yourself sink into it, enjoying every second of him devouring your mouth.

all you can hear is moans mixed with the sound of lips smacking against lips. you can’t tell where your moans finish and his start, but perhaps it just goes to show how in sync the two of you really are.

he finally pulls away again, for good this time, and a heavy sigh falls from his lips, “i’ve always been yours, doll,” his wet lips meet your neck, and you tip your head back as a moan tumbles from your parted lips, “from the moment i met you, i was yours.”

“what about—”

“gossip spreads in a small town like this,” he cuts you off, “not everything you hear is true. you have a one-night stand to get over a girl once and suddenly you’ve slept your way through the whole town. honestly, i’m kind of glad the story focuses on how good i am in bed and not on the way i cried about you after i came…”

you can’t stifle the giggle that bubbles from your throat as he nuzzles against your neck.

“you cried about me?” you laugh.

“multiple times, doll,” he confirms, “what can i say, i’m a softie at heart.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fic #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #mingi fanfic

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darklydeliciousdesires · 4 months

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Baby Face - A John Shelby/Reader One Short Story.

Words - 2,742

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You and your girlfriends, you have names for each of them. Names the don’t know about. Tommy is razor cheeks, because of course. Those cheekbones. Arthur is angry fella, again, self-explanatory, and John is...

“Look, girls,” you chime, sipping upon your gin while discreetly nodding in the direction of the Garrison’s entrance. “Baby face just walked in.”

“He’s so adorable,” your friend Marjie sighs, turning to you with a look of pure adoration upon her face. “I don’t know what I’d like to do more, mother him or get on him!”

“Oh,” you snort, shaking your head, “it’s the latter for me. I would ride that man all the way to town and back!”

Your girls all cackle, huddling close, Joan the next to speak. “Would you, though? I mean, he’s a bit too sweet looking for me! Dunno if he’d have it in him, to be as much man as I’d need!”

You turn to view him again, catching his eye. He gives you an appreciative sweep with his eyes, winking. Turning back to your friends, you beam widely. “He’s got it in him. I know we call him baby face, but there’s a demon lurking beneath. I know there is.”

“A shilling says you’re wrong.” Reaching into her purse, Winnie pulls out the very coin itself, slapping it down on the table. Joan and Marjie follow suit. “Are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is?”

Rifling in your bag, you remove your dainty little purse, taking out the coin and placing it with theirs. “I’ll put my money there. My mouth has other plans.”

“Oooh, you dirty cat!” Winnie shrieks, her brother, the man you needed to accompany you to the pub in order to be served in the first place turning, tutting and shaking his head.

“All alley cats, the lot of ya!”

“Oh, pipe down, our Wilf,” she orders lightly, giving him a nudge where he’s turned in his seat at the next table over with his lad friends. “We’re only having a bit of fun!”

A bit of fun. You can guess with almost certainty you’d receive exactly that from John Shelby. Turning again, you see he’s still at the bar, drinking with a couple of the lesser famed Blinders, once again catching your eye. He lifts his chin, holding your gaze fast while sipping his whiskey, placing his glass down and making a motion with his fingers for you to go over. Smiling, you remain in your seat.

He can work a little harder than that.

The excited squeaks of your friends – who of course witnessed it – tinkle through the air, Joan holding out a cigarette, lighting it for you, her eyes suddenly widening.

“Baby face on his way over! This is not a bloody drill!”

Your heart somersaults, but you remain calm, feeling him arrive at your side. “Evening, ladies. Having a good time, are ya?”

Looking up at him, you’re near intoxicated out of your mind by his scent, his eyes so much more beautiful close up. God, he’s simply divine. “I could be having a better one.”

“Oh, ar?” he chimes, raising an eyebrow as he idly chews upon his toothpick. “Anything I can help with?”

Your girlfriends snort with giggles, John giving them a fleeting look of curiosity before his eyes fall back upon you. He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “How about I get another gin in that glass for ya, and we go from there?”

You stand, licking your lips, watching his eyes flit down, his pupils inking a little. You have to stop yourself from diving on him right there and then. “Lead the way.” He offers his arm, and you take it to a little “ooooh!” chorus from your friends, turning to give them a scolding look. After being escorted from the bar and furnished with another drink, one drink leads to two, two to three, the evening flying by as you get to know the third Shelby brother a little better.

You find him to be sweet and charming beneath the veil of hardened gangster, and, well, cheeky as hell.

“I gotta hand it to ya, bab. Those are some cracking legs you’ve got,” he compliments with a wink, looking down and back up again, his cocky smile broadening.

You lean in close to him, gliding a fingernail over his defined jaw. “Why thank you.”

His intense gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, turning to press a little kiss to your fingertip. “Yeah, your legs look amazing, but they’d look even better wrapped around me.”

The signals you’ve been giving to one another have all led to this point, your smile broadening in an instant. “I have lodgings above the shoe shop on Bennett Street. Want to come and see for yourself how good they’ll look around you?”

You’ve never seen a man see off a fresh whiskey quite so fast before. “Lead the way, love.” You know the Shelby abode is closer than your little room above Mr. Smedley’s Shoes and Leather goods, but you’d prefer to be in your own space with a man you truly don’t know well at all. Outside, you fall into step at his side, taking his arm again, thinking how gentlemanly he is, right up until he suddenly pushes you into an alleyway.

You feel a little anxious at first, but the way he looks at you. Oh, look. There’s the demon you knew was lurking beneath the surface, spitting out his toothpick before his mouth lands upon yours. His kisses are whiskey tinged and lust dripping, all sweet heat and need as he pushes himself against you. It’s imposing, but not intimidating, his want for you melding with yours as the sparks begin to crackle further into illumination.

“Come on, mister. You’re not shagging me in an alleyway.” Grabbing his hand, you lead him back out to the street again, John releasing it to wrap an arm around your shoulders instead, your own extending around his waist. The balmy summer evening still warms the pale, inky violet of night, the air pleasant, the birds still twittering as they sit on the viaducts above, turning three corners before you end up on Bennett Street.

John Shelby has never been so pleased to see a shoe shop in all of his life, and the spring in his step confirms it. If not, the way he begins to lay hot kisses upon your neck as you jiggle the key in the side door lock tells you plenty. The entrance to the two lodging rooms above the is separate from the shop itself, a narrow staircase taking you up a flight, turning right into an equally narrow passageway.

“Bathroom is at the end there.” you point, unlocking the door to the left and opening it to reveal your modest dwelling.

“It’s your bed I wanna know the way to more right now,” he breathes, shrugging his jacket off, his hands impatiently moving to you, smoothing over your body, mouth still furiously heated at your neck. God, the raw passion in him. It’s almost enough to make your knees buckle, feeling your dress come loose in his hands as you step out of your shoes, turning to kiss him.

He backs you against the door, hands pawing at you urgently, kisses full-bodied and blistering with heat. Your hands begin the desperate devouring of clothes, having his shirt unfastened in haste to feel his skin against yours, your body smoothed and squeezed in a touch that leaves you breathless. Your fingers rain trails of exploration over his chest, and the noise he makes as his tongue swirls with yours is pure sin, his touch slipping to your undergarments.

He fights against the lace, a hand slipping within, pulling a gasp from you when his fingers brush against the petals of your sex. You whine at the tease, and he smiles against your lips, pulling from the kiss to look at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, watching the need dance in your eyes. He relents his tease, his fingertips gently stroking the slick of your anticipation, your head thudding back against the door.

The wood feels cool and steadying against your body, skin heating up rapidly, a summer tempest beginning to swell as the stroking of your bundle has you purring softly, John’s lips returning to yours. His body melds into your curves, his cock hard at your hip, his touch rousing the little bolts that spark up your spine. He draws all manner of sweet noises from you, and he swallows back every one of them in each kiss, his free arm locking around your waist.

Lifting you, he carries your barely dressed form to the bed, throwing you down, removing the rest of his clothes as you impatiently pull yourself out of your undies, your stockings shimmied down, receiving his pale skinned, freckle flecked, gorgeous body between your legs. His kisses trail your eager flesh, shifting, hands wandering along the path his lips map, settling at your apex and delving within your folds with a keen, firm drag.

The wet of each lick has little pin pricks skittering over your nerves, the warmth of it catching quickly, your edges caught in the heat of his flame. The roll of his tongue over your clit is slow and full of heat, hands kneading in soft clench upon your thighs, the outline of him through the dimness of your room gilded in the last of the summer light still reasonably visible.

He is a feast for your eyes, his wide back and well-bounded bum so peachy, it invites you to sink your teeth into it, if you weren’t so lost in the delirium of his mouth pressed so keenly against your sex. The heat he evokes burns you to your marrow, the scald of your arousal growing as every flicker of his tongue sends flames skittering through you. The addition of his fingers pushing into your cunt has a sweltering flush of pleasure twining through you, your hands reaching to rest either side of his head.

Neatly shorn stubble prickles at your fingertips, your back arching as he works you with hunger, your dew sparkling upon his fingers. He twists them in a way that has your mouth dropping open, a sound you scarcely believe came from you filling the air, John’s lips wrapping your clit in a suck that is a gentle crush of pillowy heat to begin with, the pull intensifying, little glimmers rushing through you until...

“Oh!” It tears through you, sudden and overbearing, leaving you trembling, your release still rolling through you as his tongue slows, your fluttering walls pulsing around his fingers, withdrawing them as he sits up, inspecting his sodden hand.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he rumbles, shaking the trails of slick from them, chuckling to himself. “Proper enjoyed that, didn’t ya?” He brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean before grasping your thighs and yanking you closer to where he kneels, a predatory look glinting the blue of his eyes. “Think you’re ready to get fucked now, ain’t ya?”

“You bloody better,” you mewl, hands trawling his arms as he lowers to you, placing kisses at your sternum. You can feel the head of his cock pressing for entrance, the tip breeching you, but all he gives is a mere inch before pulling back. His mouth closes over your nipple in a warm suck, pushing again, opening you around him, slipping back once more. Oh... you certainly were right. He’s a demon.

“John, please,” you complain, and he has the gall to give you his most innocent, unassuming look. Damn that baby face.

“Please what, bab?”

You chuckle, but it’s pained, hissing a breath when his teeth close upon your nipple. “Please fuck me.”

“I will, love,” he murmurs, mouth moving to your neck, tongue pressing against where your pulse flickers madly. “Eventually.” His teeth lock in another bite, cock breeching you again, a couple of inches parting your needy, soaking walls this time, twitching before abandoning you again. “Gonna make you desperate for it before I do, though.”

“And to think, my friend thought you were so adorable,” you quip, body juddering beneath him, John laughing as his tongue swipes over the crescent of each breast, hands smoothing down your back.

“Your friend don’t fucking know shit.” Indeed, she doesn’t. Your bet? Won already... and he’s barely been inside you.

His merciless tease continues, and every second of it is agonising to your overstimulated body, your cunt streaming needily, yearning for him to simply fill you. When he finally does, you have to hope that Mr. Taggart, the other lodger there above the shoe shop is out for the night from the cadence of your wail, spread wide around the girth of the gangster who offers kisses steeped in sugared embers, fingers trawling through your hair.

No matter how dangerous he is, you desire nothing more than to slap him when he retreats once more, chuckling at your pain. “Alright, fine,” he begins, turning you onto your side, moving to lie behind you. “I suppose I’d better play fair, save spitting me teeth.”

He hauls your leg up so it rests in the cradle of his elbow, hand reaching to grasp his cock. He purposefully rubs himself along your slit, the gloss of your cunt smearing over his thick, veiny shaft, your whimpers reaching crescendo. You need him so badly, you are not above begging, but finally, he plunges into you fully, sating you beautifully. And oh, he feels sublime.

His other hand reaches beneath your neck, turning your head to meet your lips in kisses that scald you, like a summer heatwave cutting through an arctic chill, moaning against your tongue as he arrows you so deeply, you see stars. The rhythm of his fuck is contained to begin with, each daggering into your soft, dripping warmth allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock, falling then into a tempo that has you gasping against his lips.

The snap of his hips has your tits heaving, kissing back every little cry, telling you how good you feel around him, how beautiful you look while you’re getting fucked, moaning into your mouth as his hand slides down to begin stroking your clit in time with every deep thrust. You’re adrift from yourself, cast out onto the vast sea that begins to whirl, the storm that is John leaving you feeling unmoored entirely as he splits you deep and fucks you hard.

“Come on, darlin’. Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, mouth moving to suck a purple welt upon your neck with a deep groan full of smoke and salt. “Let me hear you scream for me.”

You feel the shiver in your muscles spread as he rails you relentlessly, his sweat slicked chest rubbing against your back as your voice breaks on the scream he fucks out of you, your waves flooding his shore as you come hard for him, every fibre of your being alight, twitching and beaming. He slows, giving you time to recover, sliding from you and turning you over, pulling your hips up before re-entering your molten core from behind.

Your pleasure is still warming your bones as he begins to fuck you in all out, brutal carnal fury, groaning deep as he splits you around him, hands clasped at your hips, eyes fixed upon the sight of his cock rapidly assailing your soaking little hole. He pants hard, each twitch of his cock tightened upon by the clutch of your walls as he rapidly has you ascending again, coming with him as he paints your insides white, growling cusses as his release blinds him completely.

You don’t even care about the three shillings you just won; all the prize you need is being turned and pulled into a set of strong arms, sharing kisses with your baby-faced demon as every drop of pleasure he so expertly bestowed upon you ebbs away.

“Fancy letting me do that to you again sometime?” he asks, and you smirk immediately, turning him onto his back and seating yourself astride him.

“You aren’t leaving here until you do it to me at least another three times,” you demand, leaning to kiss the centre of his chest, the vibrations from his chuckle tickling your lips.

“Oh ar, bab. You can count on that.”

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby smut #john shelby x reader #john shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #joe cole #john shelby #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders

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fikefries · 17 days

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wheels of fate (m.s) part one

part one: shadows in the dark

warnings: implied almost assault, swearing, mentions of alcohol

summary: when you find yourself in the face of danger, an unexpected character comes to your rescue.

1.1k words

you sit on your dorm bed, staring blankly at the incomplete essay on the laptop in front of you. today was not your day. partying the day before your thesis was due was not the best idea. the words blur together as your mind wanders, boredom gnawing at you, and an immense craving for salt-and-vinegar chips bubbling in your stomach. you look across your room to your tiny electric clock sitting on your desk, its blue hue slightly lighting up the darkness of your dorm.

1:37 AM,

you sigh, shutting your laptop with a small thud, rubbing your tired eyes, and pull yourself out of bed. you left out a soft groan at the state of your room, mini skirts, tube tops, and empty bottles of tequila sprawled out on the floor. the room feels stifling, and your hunger is rising. you need to get out, even if just for a little while.

grabbing your phone and hoodie, you decide to make a quick trip to the 24/7 convenience store down the street. it isn’t far, and the walk will do you good. you slip out of your dorm quietly, tip-toeing down the hall—not wanting to wake your roommates.

the cool night air is a nice change as you walk through the campus gates and onto the empty night streets. the city has a different feel at night—quieter and more solemn. you stuff your hands into your jacket pockets, trying to shake off the unease that creeps up your spine. you know that walking down a dark street in the middle of the night isn’t the safest thing to do for a girl like you—but hey, what are the odds something happens the one night you decide to go out?

as you reach the convenience store, you notice a small group of tall men huddled around the energy drink section. they are dressed in black t-shirts, black jackets, and have on fingerless gloves. you realise that most of them are holding motorcycle helmets, automatically assuming they are night bikers. the area you live in is notoriously famous for its biking culture—one that results in many police chases and gunshots. knowing this, you keep a safe distance away from the group of men, but one seems to catch your attention. a boy who looks around your age is holding a motorcycle helmet and has multiple piercings adorning his ear. you can’t help but stare at his sharp features and siren eyes, the way he looks with his jaw clenched, a toothpick resting in his mouth as he stands patiently, waiting for the rest of the guys to sort out their choice of drink. you don’t even realize you are staring so intensely until he starts looking around the small store, before his eyes catch yours.

shit.

you quickly avert your gaze and pretend to inspect the different flavors of chips. your embarrassment doesn’t falter, as you feel his sharp gaze burning into the back of your head. you turn to quickly grab a few snacks and head to the counter.

"just these, please," you say, trying to act normal and confident, not wanting to garner more attention from the possibly dangerous bikers.

the cashier barely glances at you, engrossed in his phone.

“have a good night,” he mumbles as you pay and leave the store.

you begin your walk back to your dorm, nervously munching on a bag of chips you bought. you decide to take a different route, hoping to enjoy the quiet streets a bit longer, distracting yourself from the awkward encounter you just had. your thoughts wander, and you find yourself lost in your own world, not noticing the ominous figure that has started following you.

“hey you,” a gruff voice breaks through your thoughts, making you jump in fear. you turn to see an old, ragged man approaching you, his eyes gleaming with something sinister, a creepy smile etched onto his face, revealing his crooked teeth. “what’s a pretty thing like you doing out here alone, hm?”

your heart races, and you quicken your pace, turning around occasionally to see if you lost him, but the man keeps following you, his grunts growing louder as he catches up to you. you begin randomly taking different paths and alleyways in hope of losing the man. you've heard stories of what has happened to other girls on campus before and you know how dangerous the situation you are in is.

god, i should've just stayed home.

you glance around at your surroundings, slowing down your pace, realizing you have run into a more isolated and unknown part of town, and are now at a dead end, with nowhere to run to as the creepy man catches up and starts walking towards you.

“leave me alone,” you manage to shout, your voice trembling in utter fear and desperation.

“come on, don’t be like that,” the man sneers with a wicked smile, closing the distance between you.

before he is able to touch you, the sudden loud roar of a motorcycle engine echoes down the street, zooming towards your direction. the old man halts his actions, his expression shifting from predatory to wary and he slightly backs away from you. a sleek black bike skids to a halt in front of you, and the rider jumps off with an air of cold confidence.

the rider removes his helmet, revealing the boy from the convenience store with sharp features and piercing eyes that seem to see right through you, his hair messy from being underneath the helmet.

how is he here? did he follow me? did he hear me screaming?

he barely glances at you before fixing his gaze on the old man.

“get lost,” he says flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, his blue eyes glaring coldly at the man.

the old man hesitates, clearly intimidated by the biker’s presence. “hey, boy, i don’t want any trouble,” he mutters, fully backing away from you, as you let out a sigh of relief.

“you already found it. leave before you actually fucking piss me off,” the biker replies, his tone cold and unwavering.

the old, creepy man shoots one last menacing glare at you before turning and disappearing into the night, knowing not to mess with a night biker—especially in this part of town. the biker turns to you, his expression unreadable.

“you okay?” he asks, his voice and eyes still stoic and devoid of warmth.

you nod, swallowing hard. “yeah, thanks. i—”

“be careful” he interrupts, already turning back to his bike.

“wait” you nervously call out, hesitantly taking a step forward. “what’s your name—i mean thanks for saving me, i don’t—” you stutter.

he pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “matt,” he says simply, putting his helmet back on and revving the engine of his bike before heading off into the night.

tags: @isasturns @sofieeeeex @scqrletsmadness

a/n: im thinking this will be a 10 or more part series! let me know if you have any ideas!

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zablife · 1 year

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Hello, Lee! ❤️

Ok, John. No request but imagine/headcanon/something.

John climbing through the window to meet his girlfriend or s/o in the middle of the night? And the next day he returns to Small Heath with leaves on his clothes or perhaps a thorn in his hands, but it was certainly worth it 😂. Probably Arthur finds that very funny, and Tommy "not again" but if his brother is happy...

Flor, I took inspo from your lovely ask and included it here, but perhaps not quite the way you meant. I hope you still like it! In this one Y/n is healed from her wound and is ready for trouble which is good bc she finds it with John right before Tommy's wedding! This is prob the closest thing I will ever write to crack fic so enjoy this bit of utter nonsense!

Read previous parts here.

Plus One (Partners in Crime AU)

John Shelby x Y/n Solomons

“Who’s your man, Ada?” Polly asked, eager to know everyone attending Tommy’s upcoming wedding. “He’s not from one of your political meetings is he?”

“Tommy would hate that, wouldn’t he?” she asked with a smirk. “But no, he’s not. I’m bringing a man from the library.”

“John that only leaves you, love,” Polly noted. “Grace doesn’t want uneven numbers so you’ll have to find someone.”

“Why don’t you ask Y/n?” Ada asked, trying to be helpful.

John pulled a face at her remark before exclaiming, “Are you daft? I can’t ask her!”

“Why not? You’re always together,” Polly pointed out.

“We work together, Pol. Thought this was supposed to be a night off. Besides, she’s a pain in my arse,” John replied, twisting the toothpick in his mouth with great agitation.

“I think you fancy her! Are you afraid she’ll say no and break your heart?” Ada teased, shoving her elbow into his ribs playfully.

“Fuck off!” John said, stomping away. The family had noticed he was spending more time with you recently even when you weren’t on the job and he was tired of the insinuations that there was anything more than friendship between you.

As he took a stroll outside the Garrison, he made a mental list of everyone he could possibly ask, but the only girls he could think of were whores. A few of the girls had serviced Tommy after the war so that definitely wouldn’t do. After careful deliberation, he hated to admit that you were looking like the best option after all. He just didn't know how to ask you, knowing you'd hold this over him for months.

————————————

Despite his predicament, there was work to be done. Tonight your brothers wanted you to report back on the Russian royals living in Hampton Court Palace and their jewels, an interesting task considering the orgy of epic proportions going on in the parlor.

John stole a glance at you from his position at the door, gun in hand in case a partygoer or member of staff should wander in unannounced. “Three minutes,” he reminded you of the time you had left before the guards would check the rooms again.

“Four! Get a watch that fucking works!” you hissed in return.

John tapped at the glass above the ticking hands, then held the time piece to his ear as you continued to pry at the case holding the jewelry Alfie instructed you to find. There would be no robbery tonight, only reconnaissance so you knew you had time for a bit of fun.

After taking a quick inventory of what was kept in the duchess’ bedroom, you took up one of the rings, admiring the biggest diamond you’d ever seen against your fingers in the dim light. “Look at this beauty,” you cooed at the gem.

“Stop playing dress up, Y/n! Do you want to get shot?” John warned you harshly as he moved away from his post.

“By the cossacks or you?” you asked cooly. Standing to your full height, you paced toward him so he could see the irritation in your eyes as you pushed his arm away from you carefully. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing! You know I don’t like it when you bring that one.”

“And what’s wrong with me Webley?” he asked, looking down at the gun.

“Jumps on the hammer, don’t it? Nearly shot your bollocks off last week,” you said at full volume.

“Stop talking so loud about my balls, alright?” Glancing down the hall, his eyes grew wide as he whispered, “Someone’s comin’” and began dragging you away from the door.

You tried to shake him off reasoning. “I been practicing my Russian accent. We’ll be fine. Let me do the talking,” you said, attempting to jerk your arm from his grasp.

John whipped you around to face him arguing, “What are you going to say? You brought me up here for a shag?” Looking at you doubtfully, he added, “No one here is going to believe you’re Russian.”

“Yeah? Well, no one’s going to believe I’d fuck a bellend like you either! Not for all the money in—” but John cut you off, shoving you out an open window. He came barreling out after you with a grunt, rolling toward you into the flower bushes.

Just as he did, two men went rushing past, unaware of your presence on the well-manicured lawn. You didn’t understand what they were saying, but the sounds echoing inside of their rough curses and heavy boots were enough to make you grateful you hadn’t attempted your plan.

————————————

As you drove home John stole a glance at you, a smug smile tugging at his lips. “That’s two for me,” he commented.

“Two what?” you said, picking leaves from your hair.

“I’ve saved your life twice, alley cat. Three if you count the lie I’m going to have to tell to keep anyone from finding out you stole that ring tonight,” he chuckled, gesturing toward your left hand.

You gasped as you realized that in the chaos of your escape, you absconded with the jewel you’d been admiring earlier. “Fucking hell!” you exclaimed, trying to wiggle it free. However, it wouldn’t budge and John watched you claw at your hand helplessly as he shook with laughter.

“That’ll teach you to impersonate a bloody duchess!” he roared.

In desperation to remove the ring, you began sucking on your finger to use your saliva as a lubricant, but John quickly pulled your hand away.

“Stop it! You don’t know where that thing’s been,” he said, disgustedly. “You wouldn’t believe the things Tommy’s told me about what they do with their gems.”

“Like what?” you asked in a distracted, far off voice, too busy watching your finger turn from red to purple as you squeezed at the metal band painfully.

John snickered as he replied, “Tatiana said that’s been inside her aunt’s dusty old cunt!”

“Get it off me!” you cried, thrusting your hand in his face and slapping at his shoulders as though the ring was burning your skin.

The car swerved as John batted you away, scolding you in his deep fatherly voice he reserved for his errant children. “Behave yourself, Y/n. I’m fucking driving!”

You slumped back in your seat with a frown, feeling the gem snag your dress as you crossed your arms over your chest. Thinking of Alfie’s explicit instructions not to take anything from the house, you lit a cigarette and began to ponder a way to hide your accidental theft.

It wasn’t long before John’s taunts drew you from your sulking. “So what’s Russian pussy taste like, Y/n?”

Exhaling smoke in his direction you retorted, “Probably the same as the cock you had to suck to get in the front door, you fuck wit. Now help me figure out what I’m going to do about this!” you cried.

“I’ll sort this for you,” John said confidently, eyes trained on the road once more. He knew Tommy would do anything to keep Grace happy, even concealing this massive fuck up from Alfie.

“Yeah, how?” you challenged him, exhausted and definitely not in the mood for his scheming.

“Let’s go see Tommy,” he announced.

“Now?” you shrieked. John just nodded. “Is he even awake?”

“You’re asking the wrong questions, sweetheart,” John said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him, letting your head drop back against the bench seat in frustration.

“So do you like weddings?” he asked nervously clutching at the steering wheel, though he had no reason to be. You’d have to say yes after a favor like this.

—————————————-

The light of the pre dawn hours had not yet breached the Shelby household when an ominous scratching noise woke Tommy and Polly. Giving up any hope he had of resting the day before his wedding, Tommy rose cautiously with his pistol in hand. Creeping toward the steps in the darkness, he held his breath as he heard the thud of a body tripping over the low windowsill.

“On your fucking feet before I put a bullet in your head,” he warned in a low growl. He readied his weapon, fearing the worst before seeing a lighter flicker to life before him and John’s face appear in an orange halo of light.

“For fucks sake, it’s me Tommy!” he called out, brushing off his jacket which was still coated in dirt and grass, a few leaves sticking out from his back pockets.

Tommy came forward to light a lamp and took in the sight of his younger brother helping you through the window, a large diamond ring shining brightly on your left hand. He blinked several times at the sight, rubbing his eyes to be sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“We need your help, brother,” John said cryptically.

Tommy stood still for a moment, running a hand down his face before exhaling a weary reply. “What have you two done now?”

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

Read next part Birthday Gift

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #John shelby #John Shelby x Solomons sister #John Shelby x you #john shelby x y/n #John Shelby x reader

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luminnara · 2 years

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Hear me out. Billy Hargrove falling for a gal with a toddler. This has been rolling around in my head for DAYS! Am I the only one that can see him just being completely wrapped around a 2-year-old little girl's finger? Or beating the shit out of a douchebag for insulting HIS family?!

Okay hear me out.

Billy doesn’t want to be a parent. As he starts healing from the abuse he’s suffered his whole life, he can’t stomach the possibility that he’ll turn out just like his father. He doesn’t LIKE kids, either, and besides Max and the little shits who run around at the pool and make his job harder, he doesn’t have any experience with them. He barely even got to be a kid himself, after his mom left, and he really doesn’t have any desire to ever have any.

But then he meets you one day, and he’s enamored. Maybe he runs into you at the store or something, and something about you just…clicks. So, naturally, he wants to take you out on a date, and you agree. He takes you out for dinner one night and everything is going so well, he doesn’t even try to Fuck you in the back of his car so he can get the intimacy he so desperately craves and then leave it at that. No, he takes you out on a second date, and a third…and at this point, he’s head over heels.

It’s also at this point that you decide this guy might be worth keeping around. You’re cautious, ever since your ex up and left, and at first, Billy seemed like he had the potential to be the same way. But he’s sticking by you and he isn’t even trying to overstep his bounds, reminding you more of a lost puppy than a sleazy dirtbag. So, you decide that he’s a keeper, and you tell him the truth:

You’ve got a kid.

At first, his eyes go wide. He’s surprised, because you don’t SEEM like a mom. You aren’t like Karen Wheeler or Susan. You’re his age, and you’re nice and you’re fun. It scares him a little, and you both think that he’s gonna run for it—until he pauses, and he asks himself WHY he’s scared. And he realizes that it’s because of himself, and his dad. And you don’t know anything about any of that, so how could he drag you into his own shit?

“I, uh, I gotta say…I don’t think I’m exactly father material,” he says, avoiding your gaze as he anxiously chews on a toothpick.

“Why?”

“Because…”

And suddenly he’s telling you everything. You, this person he only met a few weeks ago. And you’re not running, either, because you can see that he’s scared, but he’s trying to bounce back from everything life has thrown at him—and you don’t think he’s a danger. At all. You think he can break that cycle his father got so stuck in.

So, one hot summer day, you bring your daughter with you to the community pool, so Billy can meet her without the potential awkwardness of being stuck in your house.

He spots you immediately from his perch on the lifeguard chair, and he’s shocked at the way that he isn’t afraid of the interaction that he knows is coming. For some reason, his first instinct isn’t to run, but to yell for heather to come take his spot for a minute as he climbs down to meet you.

You’ve got your daughter on your hip, your tote bag over your other shoulder. You’ve got a wide hat that’s shielding both of you from the sun, and a swimsuit that’s a little too hot and trendy for a MOM to be wearing at the COMMUNITY POOL.

(Mrs. wheeler and the other mothers are watching you with judgmental eyes. When Billy walks up to you, their jaws drop. They can’t decide if they love seeing him kiss you because suddenly he looks like a family man, or if they hate it because it’s YOU)

You can tell he’s nervous as he says hi, both to you and to your daughter. She’s fascinated by the whistle hanging around his neck. He’s fascinated by the way that he isn’t terrified of holding her when you pick out a chair to hang out in and hand her off to him for a moment. When you glance back up at the two of them, you see that your daughter is grabbing at his curls, and he’s staring at her in absolute wonder, and you know that things are gonna go well.

And they do.

You and Billy get more serious. He moves in, and keeps you as far away from his dad as possible. Max is allowed over, though, because she’s a good (ish) babysitter. And Billy discovers that he’s kind of about this whole family life thing, after all. He keeps the Camaro, of course, because he’s not about to change his style and you’re not about to ask him to because it’s what you fell in love with in the first place, and the two of you are the coolest parents on the block. Your daughter sits outside as Billy works on his car. She grows up listening to Motley Crue and The Scorpions and everything else he likes. She never has to worry about bullies, because the other kids know who her dad is and they’re not about to incur his wrath. He never ever raises so much as a finger towards either of you, because he’s learned what love is and he’s learned to be gentle…but he’ll absolutely rock somebody’s shit if they make a snide comment about your little family.

#billy hargrove imagine #Billy Hargrove x reader

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juicesgf · 7 days

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I was wondering if you could do something with a teen sister reader and happy or juice, platonically. Maybe it could be like a lockdown and they had to bring her and no one knew she existed until then.

If you don’t want to write this just ignore it.

hi anon! ofc i can, i love this request! I hope you enjoy and feel free to send some more requests❕

Mini Killa {H.L.}

Warnings: fluff, swearing, age isn’t stated but reader is around 17, horrible writing

sister reader x happy

“You have to come with me to the clubhouse.” Happy murmured grabbing Y/n’s bag and putting some of her things inside

“What? Why? I thought you didn’t want them to know about me.” Y/n replied watching him pick up her pink bunny giving it a funny look before putting it in the the backpack before zipping it up.

He turned to look at her before holding out the bag. “That’s not true.” he responded keeping his words short. “It was always safer for you this way, until now. Come on.” He finished not giving her any time to respond before he left her room and headed outside.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Y/n hopped off Happy’s bike taking off her helmet and handing it to him. She looked around seeing tons of cars and other bikes in the lot. Her nerves starting to strike.

Happy noticed and placed a hand on her shoulder. before nudging her slightly so she started walking. When they walked inside all eyes immediately turned to them some small gasps being let out when they saw Happy with somebody.

“Brother.” A blonde man with longer hair smiled looking down at Y/n “who’s this?”

“I’m Y/n.” She replied giving the man a smile.

“Jax.” He looked between them

“Jax, this is my sister.” Happy finally spoke up shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Sister?” Jax questioned his jaw slightly dropping “Guys! Happy has a sister.” Jax practically shouted looking at the others.

Y/n started fiddling with her fingers at all the attention she was suddenly getting. Happy could tell she was getting nervous and decided to speak up. “Y/n why don’t we get you settled in my room yeah?” She just nodded eagerly at his words.

〰️〰️〰️〰️

The guys watched as something pissed Y/n off and she immediately snapped like Happy usually does.

“Damn, like brother like sister.” Juice snorted as she flipped off the person she was playing against in pool.

“Kinda hot.” Tig blurted the guys instantly giving him dirty looks.

Happy immediately turned in his seat giving Tig the nastiest look as he rolled the toothpick in his mouth. “Run.” He muttered.

Tigs eyes widened as he stood from his seat and started sprinting towards the door shouting apologies as Happy started chasing him, the guys dying of laughter as they all watched the scene unfold.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t kill him.” Y/n giggled walking over to the guys as she watched Tig scream like a little girl still running. “Last time he did that i had to help cover it up.” She joked.

Juice slowly backed away from her “Woah, Mini Killa.”

#sons of anarchy #soa imagine #soa gen fic x reader #soa juice #soa happy #soa #sons of anarchy imagine #happy lowman imagine #juice ortiz #happy lowman #theo rossi #david labrava #jax teller #chibs telford #soa chibs #opie winston

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gretavanbear · 1 year

Text

Silly, Little, Tease. (part one of two)

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader (18+)

[a/n ; for mads, i love you!]

You loved this job, being out in the sun all day, interacting with all kinds of different people, serving them and creating connections, and the tips were amazing. There was nothing you loved more but to spend your days at the golf course bar, your station. You loved bartending, the job keeping you so busy that time flew by without notice. With this amazing job, came its pros and… it’s cons.

Jacob Kiszka.

The ladies man, the tanned god that every girl wanted, the musician, the cocky bastard, and the arrogant asshole you had to share your bar with. You couldn’t deny that he wasn't sexy, because he definitely was. He was gorgeous, beautifully tanned with a chiseled jawline and chocolate eyes. He had bright white teeth that shined when he’d be picking up girls at the bar.

Today, you clocked in and prepared your station, tying up your hair in a ponytail as you sat down on a stool which was hidden underneath the counter. You only sat there when there was no customers, and at this time no one would be here for another thirty minutes, except Jake of course. The thought of him apparently summoned him because there he was, lifting the counter and stepping behind it.

“Well, well, well, isn’t it the witch” He smirked, his brown eyes scanning your face for a reaction.

“Hey, troll.” You scoffed, placing your right foot on the bar of the stool’s legs. “Late. As usual. Don’t you care about your job?” You sighed.

“Looking this good takes time. And, I need my beauty sleep. Can’t work my charm as well if I haven’t fully rested, hm? Doesn’t help that I’m stuck with someone like you ‘til I clock out.” He spoke, walking over to his side of the bar, on your left. You watched the way he rested his arms on the counter, his ass poking out a little as his back was a little arched. You hated him, as much as you liked him. Maybe that’s what made it worse; that the two of you could like each other if he wasn’t such an asshole. You watched him pick up a toothpick and place it between his lips, his gorgeous shiny teeth fidgeting with it as his lips were a soft pink, always wearing a smirk.

As the day began getting busier and busier, you served your customers and he served his, occasionally flirting with every girl who came across his side. It annoyed you so much to see him like this, mostly because he always flirted with them and never with you.

“Hey there” A voice distracted you from your staring, your eyes darting right to the customer at the counter. He had curly hair and brown eyes, a soft energy around him. He was sat on a stool facing you, his elbows resting on the counter.

“Hi! What can I get you?” You spoke to him kindly, he was very attractive. You wondered if you could try using your charm the same way Jake does; the thought of him getting jealous excited you a little even if it might not happen at all.

“Can I get a salty dog, please?” His voice was raspy which excited you. You grinned at his drink choice, it wasn’t ordered very often so you gladly made it for him.

“Coming right up.” You replied and began making his drink. “You coming from out of town?” You made small talk, it helped you get through your day, especially since the only other option was to talk to Jake and that was torture.

“Yeah, you could say so.” He replied. He pulled out his wallet as you finished up his drink.

“That’ll be 7$.” You said, sliding the drink over to him. As the man opened up his mouth to reply, Jake walked over to you and interrupted him.

“What are you doing?” He snapped, intercepting your hand from taking the money.

“Come on, little brother. That’s no way to treat a lady.” The man spoke, shooting you an apologetic grin before turning his head to Jake. Little brother? You looked at the both of them, inspecting the look they gave each other.

“This is my twin, Josh.” Jake sighed. “So he doesn’t fucking pay” he groaned out before going back to his side of the bar.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea” You breathed out. Luckily there was only you, Jake, the customer he was serving on his side of the bar and this mysterious man in front of you.

“Don’t worry about it. Take it as a tip, yeah?” He smiled. You reciprocated the action and he handed you the money. “Josh. Nice to meet you.” He added. You informed him your name and he nodded gently.

“How long have you worked here?” He asked, taking a sip of his drink and sighing out of content.

“Only a couple months. But I really like it, I meet new people every day and I also have lovely regulars who tip nice” You chuckled, wiping down the counter from the droplets of water which had splashed when you picked up ice for his drink.

“Well, thank you. I’ll see you around, darling.” Josh smiled at you before looking at Jake, who was glaring at him, and getting off the stool walking away from you both.

“That girl you work with,” Josh started, turning to his brother.

“What about her?” Jake sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

“Have you guys…” He hesitated on asking, from the way his brother was reacting he wasn’t sure he should have brought her up.

“Fuck no. She annoys the shit out of me.” He groaned out, looking over at his brother quickly before focusing back on the road.

“So.. she’s available then?” Josh asked. His eyebrow raised as he tried to figure out Jake’s expression. Usually, he could tell what he was thinking but this face was new to him.

“I guess. If you’re looking for a bad lay. She’s a goodie two shoes, probably boring as fuck. If you saw the women that come up to me during my shifts…” Jake sighed, putting the car in park as they reached their destination.

“I mean.. Good girls are always the ones that surprise you the most.” Josh spoke as he stepped out of the car, following Jake to his apartment.

“Whatever. She’s just going to disappoint you.” Jake dismissed him. He felt guilty about the way he spoke about you, because the truth was he just wanted you to himself. But he knew that couldn’t happen, and it was just easier to argue with you than to share the way he felt.

You clocked in with a sigh, first to arrive like always. This was a different shift though, an earlier one due to a shipment arriving early in the day. You knew you’d probably have to handle it all alone since Jake was never much help with any physical work, only flirting with customers.

You waited for the truck to come by your building, looking around the empty golf course for any sign of life but it was still too early in the day.

“Well, look who it is..” Josh greeted you, Jake looking at you with an annoyed stare as the two of them walked over to your building.

“Good morning” You smiled at him, looking over at Jake quickly before looking down at your shoes.

“I wanted to ask you something, before I go. I just came by to say hey.” Josh spoke, coming up to your side of the bar as Jake lifted the counter and went to his side.

“Sure, what’s up?” You spoke, curious as to what he’s going to ask.

“Can I have your number? I’d love to take you out. You have a beautiful smile and I’d love to know more about you.” Josh spoke, his phone in his right hand.

You nodded eagerly and looked down at his phone, he passed it to you and you typed in your phone number with a smile.

“I’ll call you later” he gave you a wink before going to Jake’s side of the bar, whispering something in his ear. You felt their eyes on you and tried to ignore it, but you felt seen by him for once. You turned to look at them and watched Josh smirk at Jake before waving ‘bye’ at him, waling away from your building.

“What did he ask you?” Jake spoke, as you walked out to open the storage room door for your scheduled delivery.

“It’s none of your business” You said, walking back to the bar. You grabbed a rag to begin your morning cleaning.

“Well, it is my business. That’s my brother.” He said. The two of you watched the truck park next to the building.

“What- are you attached at the hip? He can’t do anything without you having to be there?” You spoke. Jake opened his mouth to respond but you interrupted him. “How come you’ve never told me about him then, huh?” You said as you unlatched the hook on the back door of the truck, pulling up the door. You enjoyed the physical labor in this job since it helped you stay active when you didn’t have time to go to the gym like you used to.

“Well. I just don’t want him to waste his time on you. That’s all” Jake shrugged, walking over to you and shooting you a smirk before grabbing a box from the truck and bringing it in the storage room. You scoffed and grabbed a box as well.

“What makes you say he’s wasting his time?” You said, putting the box down on a shelf and turning back to him. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the truck, bringing another box in the storage room. You passed by him and the two of you filled up the room without speaking to each other.

As you set down a box on the ground, you closed the truck door and headed for the storage room, passing by Jake. “You haven’t answered me.” You said as you watched him set down the final box which you had set on the floor. Before he could answer, the storage room door closed quickly and hard, startling the both of you. As he rushed to open it back up, the door knob wasn’t turning.

“Fuck!” Jake groaned as the door handle stayed in his hand, detached from the door.

“Oh great.” You sighed, sitting on one of the cases of alcohol, staring down at your shoes. “This is just what I fucking needed.” You sighed once again.

“I don’t want to be stuck in here with you either” Jake said, sitting down on an alcohol crate next to you.

“I’m quitting.” You spoke. “Once we get the hell out of this room, I’m quitting.” Today was the last straw. You’ll find another job, a better one.

“What?” And for the first time, Jake’s tone wasn't harsh with you, it was soft and delicate.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’ve never done anything to you, Jake. Ever since my first day.. It’s like you saw me and knew you hated me right away. It’s exhausting. I can’t do it anymore.” You sighed and felt your eyes well up with tears.

Jake breathed out your name, his fingers making their way to your hand gently. “I’m so sorry” He sighed, his hand wrapped around yours. You looked up at him through your blurred vision.

“You see, how can I believe that, huh? You don’t mean it, at all. I just know. If it’s so easy for you to be horrible to me all day long then it must be just as easy to apologize and not mean it.” You said, wiping your tears with your free hand, ripping the other one away from his grasp.

“No.. please. Please believe me. What can I do to prove it? To show you I really mean it?” He asked, his eyes begging for an answer.

During this moment, your mind went back to all those times you found yourself checking him out at the bar, your eyes scanning his body; the way his shirts hugged his body perfectly, the way his smirk got him all those tips. The way he’d whisper things in customer’s ears and made you wish it would happen to you, and it never did. Well now was your chance, you wanted a turn.

“I know what you can do, Jake.” You spoke, your tears dried. Your eyes scanned his pleading face.

“Anything..” He responded.

“Fuck me. Show me how sorry you are.”

{taglist :

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the-oc-lass · 17 days

Text

A love letter to the Hunter girlies fr fr

I love this man so very much. Give him a baby.

Hunter and a Baby: Making me cry since I thought of the idea

Other "and a Baby" stories:

Crosshair and a Baby

Wrecker and a Baby

Gregor and a Baby

Echo and a Baby

Tech and a Baby

Full Fic Below:

They’re on Pabu when he gets the call. Rayona had the baby. He practically yells it when Omega and his brothers ask what’s going on, simultaneously excited and concerned.

“She said the baby wouldn’t be born for another month. Is it going to be okay?” he asks, just the slightest bit panicked. Tech adjusts his goggles, looking down at his datapad.

“The birth may be premature, but it should not impact the child’s health. While it is not a common phenomenon, it is common enough that it is no cause for concern. The baby will be fine,” he says. It soothes Hunter’s concerns for the most part, but not entirely. After all, this isn’t just Rayona Yothia’s child, it’s his child too.

“We should head to Pantora,” he says. Tech doesn’t look up from his datapad.

“It would be unnecessary and illogical to leave for Pantora now. Rayona will need approximately two days—if not more—to recover, and only then will she and the newborn return to base. We should wait for Echo to contact us and-”

“Tech!” Hunter and the others chorus. The genius finally looks up at them, then his gaze falls to Omega as she rushes up to him.

“Please, Tech? I want to be there when Ray brings home the baby!” Omega begs, hands clasped in front of her. Tech looks at her for a moment, then adjusts his goggles again.

“I suppose flying to Pantora in advance would not harm anything,” he says. Omega grins, then gasps and turns to look up at Wrecker.

“We should bring something for Ray and the baby!” she says. Wrecker grins.

“Great idea, kid! Come on!” he says. The two hurry out of the room and Tech mutters something about going to prep the ship for departure. Hunter resists the urge to pace, instead sitting down in a nearby chair.

“Relax,” Crosshair drawls, taking his toothpick from between his lips as he speaks. “Baby’s not going anywhere.” Well, technically, it is. It’s leaving Rayona’s body. But he’s also not wrong. If Tech is right—and he usually is—then they won’t even see Rayona or the baby for another few days. Going to Pantora now isn’t necessary, but…Well, Hunter’s just a little excited, okay? Omega’s his—their—kid, sure, but this is his first baby. He’s giddy and nervous about the possibilities. Omega may be a girl, but she’s still a clone. There’s still a resemblance between her and other clones. Will the baby look like Hunter and the other clones? Like Rayona? Tech would probably say something smart about genetics and traits inherited from parents, but all he can think about is being a father to a child who looks like the perfect mix of himself and Rayona. An adorable mini them. Hunter stands up again.

“I’m gonna…Get something for her too,” he says. Crosshair hums noncommittally, offering nothing else as Hunter walks away.

Though Tech assured him that they’d taken the quickest possible path to Pantora, it still felt like an eternity for Hunter. Then again, any speed probably would’ve felt too slow. Waiting through the days for Rayona and the baby to actually come home had felt even longer. They’d gotten a message from Echo earlier today, which let them know that they would all be returning to base today. Senator Chuchi had offered Rayona a safe space to give birth away from the base, and they’d all been grateful. The rebellion’s base of operations is perfectly safe and secure, but it’s in no way an ideal place to give birth. This act of kindness is just one of many that the senator has shown them, and Hunter is eternally grateful for her. Still, though, did this safe place have to be so far away? It feels as if it’s been hours since Echo sent the message informing them of their ship’s departure.

“She’s back!” Wrecker yells, jumping up and pointing as a ship begins gliding down toward the hanger. Hunter and the others rise as well, watching with varying levels of excitement as the ship slows down and lands. The engines start to quiet as the ship powers down, and the ramp starts to descend. They all gravitate toward it and linger at the bottom, several pairs of eyes glued to the door. Then, it finally opens and there she is. Echo is flanking her on her left and her best friend, Plaa Min, is on her right. Rayona herself has a small bundle cradled delicately in her arms and she smiles down at it with eyes filled with love and utter adoration. Plaa sets a hand on Rayona’s shoulder and the shorter woman lifts her gaze. Her grin widens slightly when she sees Hunter and the others at the bottom of the ramp, and she slowly starts coming down toward them.

“Hello, everyone,” she says. She stops when she reaches the bottom of the ramp, looking around at the group gathered around her. “I’d like to introduce the newest and youngest member of our rebellion…Echo Yothia.” Plaa puts her hands on Rayona’s shoulders while Echo smiles proudly behind her. Hunter isn’t entirely surprised by the name choice. Echo and Rayona have been friends since Echo’s ARC training. Barring Plaa, he’s known Rayona the longest of any of them.

“Ray! Ray, can I hold him?” Omega begs, pushing through the gaps between the others so that she can get to the front of the group. Someone gasps somewhere behind Hunter.

“I want to hold him too, General!” Gregor announces. Several more clones mutter in agreement, which makes Rayona chuckle.

“Of course, you can all hold him if you want to. But, first…” She finally meets Hunter’s gaze and smiles softly at him. “Hunter?” His eyes widen slightly and he looks down at the bundle in her arms.

“His daddy should be the first man to hold him,” Plaa says. Hunter swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, then nods, smiling slightly. Rayona smiles back, then nods toward some nearby crates. The group migrates over to them, letting Hunter sit down and watching intently as Rayona gently passes his son to him, showing him the best way to hold the tiny infant. He feels so small and delicate in Hunter’s arms, and the man feels an overwhelming desire to protect him with every fiber of his being. Little Echo yawns, squirming very slightly in the blanket he’s swaddled in, then he opens big brown eyes that match Hunter’s and-

Oh. Hunter’s heart is melting. He smiles tearily, feeling so much love for this child, for his son.

“Hey, ad’ika,” he coos softly. Rayona settles beside him, her hand finding his shoulder as she leans into his side to look down at their baby boy. Hunter lifts him slightly to kiss his tiny forehead, every movement careful and delicate. He’s going to protect this child with his life, and he’s going to love him and be there for him. He’s the first to admit that he isn’t prepared to be a father, but he’s going to give it his best shot because this baby deserves it. “He’s perfect.” Rayona reaches out to stroke a finger across baby Echo’s cheek, and Hunter doesn’t need to look at her to know the love she has in her eyes.

“He is,” she whispers. Her arms move to wrap around his bicep, and they both look down tearily at their son. “He’s everything.” The others watch the proud parents gaze lovingly down at their child, and everyone knows that they will do absolutely anything for baby Echo Yothia.

#the bad batch #the bad batch hunter #sw tbb #tbb #tbb hunter #bad batch #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #crosshair tbb #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #baby fic #baby fluff #hunter and a baby #dad hunter #the dad batch #I'm in love with him your honor

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allwaswell16 · 1 year

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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in March 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #48 | ko-fi | fic recs

—Louis/Harry—

✿ A Bright and Blazing Flame by green_feelings / @greenfeelings

(E, 23k, a/b/o, part 4 of series) Bonded, engaged, and moved in together — there’s nothing to daunt Louis and Harry’s happiness. Until the past catches up to them and everything comes crashing down when they least expect it.

✿ Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche

(T, 18k, a/b/o) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around. What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

✿ In the Strangest of Ways by SunTomato / @sun-tomato

(NR, 17k, ghost au) when the haunting sounds of a melancholy piano piece accompanied by the vague shadow of a beautiful male figure appear, Louis is determined to find out who this beautiful man was and what happened to him…

✿ anything you want until the morning by honey_beeing

(M, 12k, strangers to lovers) A Late Night Talking AU where Harry and Louis find each other on the way to work every night and then learn to not let go of each other ever again.

✿ Wed’n Walk (Or, We Went to Amsterdam Together) by @hellolovers13

(E, 11k, fake relationship) When Harry had first started planning his honeymoon to Amsterdam, he had not envisioned ending up there with his best friend. Or getting fake-married to him for 24 hours.

✿ Station 28 by @justahappycloud

(G, 10k, strangers to lovers) Darling, you are my favourite accident by far.

✿ Awaken As Mine by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 9k, a/b/o) Omega Harry was sure he had found his alpha, but how to get reading crazed, bookworm Louis to look twice at him was a mystery for the ages.

✿ Grow as We Go by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 7k, breakup) a fic about growing up and choosing each other.

✿ Catastrophe (Or Not) by grapenight / @louiswolves

(G, 5k, pet fic) Harry's a crazy cat person and Louis is the vet he keeps bringing his cats to with minor concerns like "she's been acting weird lately" and "he didn't poop today so I'm worried" but it's really just excuses to keep seeing Louis everyday

✿ Soft Wings by @kingsofeverything

(G, 4k, tattoo au) Harry is a Dolly Parton fan who wants to get a tattoo in tribute to her. Louis is the tattoo artist.

✿ Cookbooks and Toothpicks and One Lizard by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 3k, witch Harry) If there is one thing that Harry hates about Halloween, it’s what a spectacle everyone suddenly makes around him.

✿ when we're finished saying nothing by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 3k, girl direction) An alpha/alpha AU inspired by Written All Over Your Face.

✿ I Hope You Choke (on those words) by Imogenlee / @imogenleefic

(E, 3k, musician Louis) Harry Styles had been head of security for concert venues for over eight years.Never in his career had he seen a musician as reckless when it came to personal safety as Louis Tomlinson.

✿ Never Seen A Boy Like YOU Before by @jaerie

(E, 3k, trans Louis) Of all the housemates out on the ranch Louis had had over the years, none of them could even come close to Harry.

✿ Snow One Like You by cherrylarry / @beelou

(G, 3k, girl direction) The strangers to lovers stuck on a ski lift au

✿ Lapful Of Lou by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(M, 2k, friends to lovers) they are both idiots and it takes a drunk Harry (with no brain to mouth filter) to get things going.

✿ Oblivious by grapenight / @louiswolves

(G, 2k, uni au) Louis and Harry are roommates, and Louis is instantly attracted to Harry.

—Rare Pairs—

✿ neither wanting more, neither asking why (series) by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 40k, OT5) If Louis is the origin, Zayn the expansion, Liam the complication, Niall the solution, then Harry - Harry's the completion.

✿ The Hour of Us by sitandadmire / @niallziam

(M, 5k, Harry/Louis/Niall) the modern witches AU where Niall collects spell books, Harry is fascinated by plants, and Louis is ready to protect them at all costs.

✿ find our place by @nouies

(NR, 3k, Zayn/Louis) “Fuck!” Louis says as he hangs up the phone and turns it off. He hopes the call didn’t connect, otherwise he would have to change his number. Again.

#28th appreciation #1dficvillage #hltracks #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #larry fan fiction #one direction fanfiction

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

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Trouble in Paradise | 0.7 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Part | Next Part Synopsis: After the most painful break-up of his life, Rooster is stationed in Hawaii for the next six months. Alone, away from home and hurting, he finds comfort in the arms of a stranger.

Warnings: Warnings: no use of y/n, age gap (rooster is in his mid-30s, reader is in her early 20s), smut, p-in-v, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, angst, hurt, injuries and hospital stuff from someone who knows nothing about hospitals

…

“Hello?” Bradley’s brows are furrowed as he answers the call. You never call him, and especially not in the middle of the day — you know he’s working.

“Rooster, hi.” It’s one of your friends. He can’t tell which, he just recognises that it’s not your voice. He’s standing by his plane, having just come back down from an exercise. “It’s Kit.”

“What’s up? I’m kinda busy.” He tries not to sound irritated into the phone, but he has to admit that he isn’t thrilled about your friends prank calling him in the middle of the afternoon. If that’s what this is.

“Could you come get her?” Kit asks, sounding a little more urgent this time. Rooster realises she’s slurring her words slightly. “She hurt her foot really bad.”

He furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean hurt it? — where are you guys?” It’s only 3pm. He wonders how the hell you’re all drunk already.

“It might be broken,” Kit hiccups. Rooster pinches the bridge of his nose. This is the last thing he needs today. He looks up and catches Hangman looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “We’re a couple of miles up from her place. I can text you the location, will you come get her?”

“I’m working.” Rooster sighs, turning away from facing Hangman.

“She’s asking for you.” Kit whines. “Please. Her shitty ex-boyfriend is here and he’s being a fucking dick.”

Rooster checks his watch.

“Text me the location, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” He mutters begrudgingly. “Don’t let her move until I’m there.”

He slips his phone into his pocket and turns. Rooster gasps, finding Hangman now standing right behind him.

“Where ya headed?” Hangman teases, passing a toothpick between his teeth. Rooster rolls his eyes and nudges past him, not dignifying that question with a response.

“Seems urgent.” Hangman comments. Rooster can hear boots behind him, knowing that Hangman’s following him.

Hangman stumbles as Rooster spins to face him suddenly, catching his balance and standing upright again.

“I’m sick, alright?” Rooster announces sternly. “Tell Admiral Bates that I’m sick, and that I’m going to see a doctor.”

Jake’s stands there, watching his friend walk away. His brows scrunch curiously. If Rooster’s seeing someone, Jake doesn’t know why he’s going to such great lengths to hide it.

Amy broke up with him, Rooster’s free to do what he wants. Jake has to admit, he was shocked when Chloe told him Amy had dumped him. They always seemed so good together. He was more shocked when he got here. He was expecting Rooster to be a broken shell of a man. That’s how he knows that Rooster’s seeing someone new.

Blowing off work, however — that’s a new level of whipped in Jake’s books.

Rooster pushes his sunglasses up onto his head as he makes his way down onto the rocks. He’s never been here before and directions Kit sent him weren’t exactly gold standard, but he’s here. He can hear loud music so he knows he’s headed to the right place.

He rounds onto the beach and knows he’s definitely in the right place. It looks like every other party. There’s a group of drunk girls standing in a circle, so he guesses you’re in the middle of that.

“Oop, Daddy’s here. You’re in trouble.” One girl giggles as he gets closer. He’s seen her with you before but hasn’t bothered to learn his name. He realises he must look mad, trying to soften his features before he gets to you.

The girls get out of his way. You’re sitting on the ground with your ankle in a drinks cooler, resting your head on Ella’s shoulder. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks you over. You’re in the same pink bikini from the first night he met you, you’re drunk too.

“What happened?” He asks as he crouches down to you, lifting your chin and looking over your face. There’s an open cut above your eyebrow, it’s still bleeding a little but there’s also dried blood that has trickled down onto your cheek.

He looks at Ella expectantly.

“Rooster!” You smile, wincing in pain as your eyebrow raises and disturbs the cut. He puts his hand on the back of your neck, stroking your skin gently to let you know that he’s here.

“We were rock jumping, she —“

“I fell.” You interrupt Ella, pushing your good foot against the sand and grabbing her shoulder, trying to push yourself up. Rooster grabs your shoulder, planting you back down on your ass.

“That asshole pushed her, she fell and hit her head and her foot got caught in one of the rock pools.” Ella mutters angrily, glancing back over her shoulder. Rooster follows her gaze.

The boy she’s talking about is tall and skinny, a skater boy type. He’s smoking a joint and talking angrily amongst a group of other guys his own age. Under different circumstances, maybe Rooster would have found it amusing that there was no contest between him and this kid.

“He pushed her?” Rooster’s brows furrow. You groan. He kisses the top of your head delicately and nudges closer to you. He turns your head and examines the cut on your brown again. It’s wider this time, you for sure need stitches.

Ella squeezes your hand and that’s when Rooster notices the bruises on your arms too. It must’ve been a pretty bad fall.

“Yeah, Corey was trying to pick her up to throw her in — and obviously she told him to get the fuck off of her. He got mad.”

Rooster shakes his head. He’s furious, but that idiot isn’t his priority right now.

“Let me look, alright?” He skims his hand along your shin, curling his fingers around your calf muscle and lifting it so that he can look at your ankle. It’s swollen and a deep purple bruise is already settling in.

“Doesn’t even hurt.” You mumble. Ella rolls her eyes and squeezes your shoulder. She isn’t sure whether that’s the alcohol or just you trying to be brave in front of Rooster.

Rooster sighs. He’s no doctor but he has seen a fair few shattered bones through his life. He thinks that this looks pretty similar. It makes his blood boil. This isn’t just an accident — no one fucks their ankle up like this over an accidental push.

Still, he isn’t here to beat up some stoner that’s a decade younger than him.

“Alright, come on.” He sighs, tucking one arm around your back, hooking his other under your knees. “I’ve got you. Try and hold that ankle steady for me, alright?”

You grumble something incoherent, your head lulling to the side to rest against his black t-shirt. He lifts you up with him, tucking you safely against his chest.

“Give me her phone, I’ll text you and let you know what the hospital says.” Rooster holds out the hand that’s tucked under her back. Kit steps out from the crowd of girls and hands him your phone.

“No hospital.” You complain. “Please.”

He shrugs you closer to him, shushing you softly. You whine and turn your head to bury your face in the familiar warmth of his chest.

“How much has she had to drink? The hospital’s gonna ask.” Rooster sighs. He’s been here before. They all shrug. He nods his head.

“How are you all getting home?” After he’s gone, they laugh about him asking this. It’s adorable, that’s he’s concerned for them.

Rooster settles you into the truck, your back propped up against the passenger side door and your leg stretched out across the bench. You blink hard as you look him over. He’s still in his flight suit, it’s just tied around his waist.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as he begins to drive. He squeezes your good ankle.

“We’ve all been there,” His voice is so calm. His thumb strokes your ankle gently as he drives slowly to avoid the bumps in the road. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m sorry for making you leave work to come get me.” You frown. He looks across at you and smiles softly.

“No one made me do anything, baby,” He decides. “I’m here because you needed me. I want to be there for you.”

You don’t answer him. That’s a heavy statement for a drunk girl with a possible concussion to take in. He glances across at you every now and again, taking note of the way you’re watching him.

“Almost there.” He promises, catching your eyes start to blink heavily. He slides his hand up and squeezes your knee, “Come on, keep your eyes open. Stay awake for me, alright?”

“I feel really tired.” You complain, shifting against the uncomfortable truck door. He’s glad you aren’t comfortable, knowing that the manual window crank pressing into your back is probably the only thing stopping you from falling asleep right now.

That’s not good. There are a lot of reasons you could be tired. Sun exposure. Excessive drinking. A concussion.

“I know, baby,” He squeezes your knee again and shakes your uninjured leg softly to keep you awake. “Just a little longer.”

He wishes he had some water or something to give you. He’s stopped at a red light around the corner from the hospital. Rooster shakes your knee again, groaning in frustration at how long this is taking. You turn your head to rest it against the back of the seat and Rooster notices that the cut above your eye is bleeding again.

“Baby.” He nudges you. Nothing. “Hey, baby. Honey. Open your eyes, baby, two more minutes.”

You whine and push your good leg out, kicking at his hip. He sighs in relief as he realises you’re still awake.

“Tell me about your day.” It’s all he can think of to keep you talking to him. He’s expecting you to tell him about your asshole ex-boyfriend.

“It was fun.” You smile at the thought. Rooster laughs. He’s spent the whole drive here concerned for your well-being, halfway terrified that you’re going to pass out in the truck. Yet, here you are, smiling and telling him you had a good time.

“Yeah? — This is what you call a good time?” Rooster laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a space at the hospital. You smile and nod at him.

He gets out of his side and walks around to you, lifting you into his arms once again. You press your lips to his neck. He feels bad that he’s taking you into a hospital in just a bikini, but this is Honolulu so he expects you’re not going to be the only person in the ER in swimwear.

There’s an older lady behind the counter, who’s eyes go wide when she sees him carrying you. The blood from your brow has now continued down onto your jaw.

“Hey, she — she had an accident at some kind of party out on the beach.” Rooster shifts you closer into his arms. “She hit her head and her ankle might be broken.”

The nurse cranes her neck to inspect the cut on your head as she slides a clipboard toward Rooster. You look a little colorless, sick.

“How long has she been bleeding?” The nurse asks, reaching out and brushing your hair back to get a better look. Rooster shakes his head, “I don’t know, I wasn’t there. An hour, maybe two?”

The nurse’s eyes widen slightly. “Is she responsive?”

Rooster looks down at you, “She was. She says she feels tired. Her and her friends were all drinking.”

“Okay, come with me now.”

That’s never happened before. In his history of being in the emergency room, he’s never been just walked right through before. Maybe he has more reason to be worried than he thought.

Once you’re in a bed, he’s handed a clipboard and told that he can stay while you get stitches. That’s good, because you grab his arm and don’t let go the entire time.

“What’s your date of birth?” He whispers, furrowing his eyebrows as he stares at the dotted line. The nurse shoots a concerned look between him and you as you mumble out a date.

“Huh. I’m a cancer.” He pencils in the answer. His brows furrow as you press your fingers tight into his arm, worried that the stitches are too painful for you.

“Oh no.” You whine. He realises then that you’re upset about his star sign, and chuckles softly as he fills in the rest of your details.

You look him over. He’s so handsome. He isn’t even trying to be. Then you look down at the dried blood on your fingertips.

“Rooster,” He looks up expectantly at you. “Am I still pretty?”

The nurse looks like she’s about to laugh. He chuckles softly and nods, “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, honey.”

You close your eyes, happy with his answer. He continues on with the paperwork.

“Baby, who’s your emergency contact? — You want me to put me or Ella?”

“You should probably put my dad.” You mumble, hissing out softly as the nurse continues with your stitches. Rooster lifts his head and furrows his eyebrows slightly, confused.

“I thought you didn’t talk to him anymore.”

“But he’s on the island and I’m on his insurance plan.” You explain, gasping and pressing your fingers into his arm. Rooster’s brows knit closer together. He is? You look at the nurse, “He’s in the navy.”

She smiles politely and nods, letting you know that she’s almost done. Rooster pales. The nurse glances between the look on his face and the flight suit tied around his waist and connects the dots.

“Alright, sweetie. That’s all fixed up for you,” The nurse smoothes back your hair delicately, “I’m gonna get you started on an IV, get you some fluids. That’ll make you feel better, then we’ll see about getting you downstairs for an x-ray, alright?”

You nod tiredly and shift in the bed, pulling the covers closer to you.

“What’s up with you?” You ask, blinking at Rooster.

“What’s your dad’s name?” He leans forwards and rests his elbows on his knees. You smile across at him, then shake your head,

“Doesn’t matter. You probably don’t know him.” You sigh tiredly and shuffle down in the bed, laying your head back against the pillow. “He’s in Lemoore most of the time, he’s just here this week.”

The nurse returns with a small cart. You grab Roosters arm again as she lifts a needle.

“If your dad is on the insurance information, we’re going to have to call him to verify,” The nurse explains. She’s looking at Rooster as she says it. “That’s going to be okay, right?”

You turn your head to look at Rooster too. He nods his head at the nurse, “Yeah. Of course.” You lift his hand and kiss his knuckles delicately. He turns yours over and presses the back of your hand to his lips, holding it there and watching as the nurse inserts an IV.

“She shook start to come to a little more now.” The nurse explains. Rooster nods and thanks her. “The doctor needs to come and examine the ankle, then we get get her some pain meds.” He nods again and watches her leave the cubicle, drawing the curtain behind her.

“Rooster?”

“Hm?”

“I’m really cold right now.” You murmur, closing your eyes. He smiles softly, kissing your hand once more.

“I can go see what I can find, you gonna be okay on your own for a bit?” He pushes himself up from the chair and leaves the clipboard in its spot. You nod tiredly.

He leans over and kisses the top of your head, careful not to touch your fresh stitches. You look up at him, still looking kind of dazed after your fall. He smiles and brushes his thumb over your cheek. He really hopes your dad has never heard of him.

The gift shop doesn’t have much by way of clothes. The best that Rooster can find is an extremely touristy black hoodie with a tropical circle design in the middle reading Honolulu in graphic lettering. It’ll do. It’s better than the flimsy bikini you’re in at the moment. Plus, he figures pants are a no go anyway with the state of your ankle.

You’re sitting up when he makes it back to you, shivering as you sip on a glass of water. There’s a doctor pressing tenderly to your ankle. Your face relaxes as you see him, smiling as he holds up the hoodie.

“God, you’re such a tourist.” You smile at him as you take it from his hands. You decide to wait until the exam is done to put it on.

“Dr. Harper,” The woman extends a hand out toward Rooster. “Your relationship to the patient?”

“Boyfriend.” Rooster answers without thinking. The doctor looks towards you, but nods nonetheless.

“The good news is that I don’t think it’s broken. We’re going to take you down for an x-Ray to be sure, but you should be out of here in a couple of hours.”

Rooster waits patiently in the ER for you to come back. He keeps waiting for some four star Admiral to burst through the doors and attack him for screwing his daughter. But no one turns up. Out of sheer curiosity, he does ask the receptionist if your father is coming.

She shrugs her shoulders, “He just confirmed the insurance. Didn’t even ask if she was okay, or if she had anyone here with her or anything.”

Rooster furrows his brows as he sinks back into his seat. He rests his chin against his fist. What kind of parent hears that they’re going to be paying for stitches, x-rays, IV’s and a cranial exam — and doesn’t even ask if their kid is okay?

“Hey, Sailor.”

He looks up and grins. You’re wearing the hoodie and balancing on crutches, a nurse at your side keeping your stable. Rooster pushes himself up from the chair and wraps and arm around your waist, kissing your cheek.

“Hey, baby,” He smiles. The nurse smiles with him as she releases your waist, comfortable in that fact that he has got you. “How are you feeling? Is it broken?”

“Stage 3 sprain,” You shrug your shoulders.

“Grade 3.” The nurse corrects you, making you giggle and nod with her. “It’s a complete tear of the ligament. She’s gonna be wearing that boot for a week, she needs to stay off of it for a couple of days and then she’s going to have to go to some physiotherapy appointments to make sure it’s healing right. Worse case scenario, she’ll need surgery in a couple of weeks.”

Rooster shakes his head slightly as he looks down at the ridiculously bulky boot strapped around your foot.

“Painkillers?” He asks the nurse, tucking his arm around your back, the other under your knees and lifting you off of your feet. She smiles as you gasp and grab his neck. You keep your crutches in the other hand.

“Yeah. She’s got them all in her bag. 2 maximum every four hours depending on how bad the pain is.” The nurse explains.

Rooster nods and thanks her. He carries you back down to his truck and settles you in against the truck bench.

“Are you mad at me?”

His brows furrow, truly confused, as he turns his head to look at you. In fact, he almost laughs at the notion, “Why would I be mad at you?”

You shrug your shoulders, fiddling with the sleeves of the hoodie, “Because I made you leave work. Because I got too drunk and was an idiot.”

He leans across the bench and presses his lips against yours sweetly, “Wasn’t your fault. Interesting seeing your old boyfriend, though.” Rooster turns his head towards the road. You’re reminded suddenly that he called himself your boyfriend.

Does he think that he’s your new boyfriend? Does he call you his girlfriend?

“Corey?” You ask, shrugging the oversized hoodie tighter around you. He has the aircon up so high that it’s making you shiver again.

“Yeah, what a dreamboat that guy is.” Rooster scoffs, practically rolling his eyes. You smile.

“Is that jealousy I’m hearing?” You tease him, nudging him with your good foot. He grabs your ankle and squeezes it, then shakes his head. “Jealous, no. Mad that that idiot doesn’t even realise what a special thing he had, maybe.”

You tilt your head at him.

“Mad that he put his hands on you? Absolutely. Wanted to knock him on his ass.” Rooster announces. You smile at the thought of Corey getting his shit rocked by your new big strong boyfriend. You imagine how mad he would’ve been to see Rooster carrying you off of the beach today and smile more.

“Thanks.” You murmur, watching the way the his thumb gently stokes over your good ankle as he drives. “For being there today.”

“Anytime.” He answers. You feel like he really means it. It’s not just a passing comment. You realise it then. He really would do this anytime. Any time you need him, he’s willing to be there.

You have to shut your eyes before the gravity of it all makes your head spin.

Once he’s at your place, he carries you inside again. He sets your crutches by the bedside table and sits you down on the bed.

“What kind of pyjamas do you want? — Are you still cold?” He digs through the drawer, his back to you. You shake your head as you tug the hoodie off,

“Just a T-shirt.”

He nods and pulls a Rolling Stones t-shirt from the drawer, turning to watch you untie your bikini and throw it into the laundry basket.

“Arms up.”

You smile and do as he says, cheeks heating up as he slides the shirt over your head and kisses your hair.

“Can you stay and cuddle for a bit?” You ask, wincing as you stand with one foot lifted, struggling to wriggle out of the bikini bottoms. “Sure.” He agrees, grabbing on to you and untying the bottoms at the sides instead so they fall to the ground. “You want some shorts or something?”

You shake your head and rest your head back against your pillows, watching as Rooster kicks off his boots and folds his flight suit, leaving him in his black t-shirt and matching boxers.

He watches your eyes rake over his body. He pretends not to notice the way you swing one leg between his and press your lips against his jaw the moment he’s in your bed.

“Are you seriously trying to get lucky right now?” He laughs, smoothing a hand over your hair. You grin at him,

“Can you blame me? — Do you know how perfect you were today?”

He lifts your chin and kisses your lips. You hum contentedly into his mouth, grabbing the back of his neck. He pulls back and kisses the corner of your mouth, “Baby, I don’t want to fuck up your stitches.”

“They’ll be fine.” You breathe out, pulling his mouth back against yours hurriedly. His hand slides under your shirt and along your body, pulling you under him. He grinds his hips forwards against your bare core.

“I’ll go down on you instead.” He decides, shaking his head. He can’t imagine the embarrassment of having to drive you back to the ER because he fucked you and broke your stitches.

“I’m gonna have the stitches for a whole week, are you seriously not going to fuck me that entire time?” You complain, grabbing a fistful of his curls as he pushes your shirt up and kisses along your stomach.

He lifts your good leg up over his shoulder, pressing his mouth between your legs to avoid answering your question. He doesn’t want to go a whole week either, but you’ve also been out of hospital for less than an hour and he doesn’t want to put you back in there.

You gasp softly as his tongue drags along your core, his nose grazing against your pubic bone as his tongue presses into you. He drapes his forearm over your hips, holding you down. Then he lifts his head, spitting and watching it trail between your legs.

You swallow hard. That’s going to be one that has you zoning out, staring into space at work for sure.

He groans gently against your core, lapping up the excitement that’s already built between your legs. You whine out. Before him, you’d never been a facial hair type of person. But right now, your fucking love that moustache.

His hand slides up under your shirt to grab at your breast, kneading it in his hand as his tongue works miracles against you. Your breath hitches as you grind your hips against him, “Fuck. Bradley.”

It’s rare that you call him by his name, so this catches him off guard for just a moment. His tongue teases at your entrance as his fingers curl tightly around your hip.

“Aw, baby, I know.” He hums from between your legs as you take in a sharp gasp of breath. He slides a finger into you and curls it, feeling you take another sharp breath.

Your fingers curl into his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut. He presses his forearm harder against your hips to keep you steady for him. Rooster can’t help but look up when he knows he’s made you cum. It’s increasingly his favourite thing to observe.

He kisses your lips delicately, smiling against you as you grab the back of his neck to keep him there.

“I want you inside of me,” You whine, pressing your lips eagerly along his throat.

“What about your ankle?” He breathes. He wants it too.

You lift your knee and hook it over his arm, then smile at him, “The lady said keep it elevated.” Rooster chuckles softly. She did say that. He pushes the waistband of his boxers down, guiding the head of his cock between your legs.

You moan out as he slips into you, arching your back up against his chest. He pulls back quickly as you rest your forehead against his shoulder.

“Watch the stitches.” He chastises, sitting back on his knees, rocking his hips into you agonisingly slowly. You whine and press your nails into his thigh.

He presses his chest to yours again, taking his lip between his teeth as he fills you. You whimper. There really is no place you’d rather be in the world than here, with him, like this.

Rooster is always careful not to hurt you, you’ve noticed that. It makes sense, he’s big and strong and could probably crack one of your ribs if he really wanted to. He’s especially gentle today. Normally you’d hate that. You enjoy passion and intensity when it comes to sex, but somehow Rooster still brings both of those things to the table even when he’s not pounding his hips into yours.

Instead, he thrusts slow and deep, making sure you’re feeling every last inch of him. You’re stunned after it’s over.

He kisses your lips and rolls off to lie at your side, “You’re fucking incredible.” He breathes out, shaking his head softly. So are you. You think it, but you don’t dare say it. He’s getting far too comfortable putting these epic proclamations out there. You think that maybe if he notices that you don’t say them back, it’ll stop him from taking the next step.

He just needs to wait for you to catch up first.

Jake doesn’t see Rooster again until work begins the next morning. Bradley’s in the prep room, already neat and tidy in his flight suit. Jake walks on over to him and leans against the table, making Bradley sigh and look up at him expectantly.

“See, now you’ve got me curious, so I have to ask,” Rooster rolls his eyes. Jake absolutely does not need to ask. But they both know he’s going to anyway. “Where is it that you keep sneaking off to, Bradshaw?”

Rooster shrugs his shoulders, “Not sneaking anywhere. We all have free time, dude, this isn’t a prison.”

Jake’s impressed at how well Rooster has this cool guy act nailed.

“Hm,” Jake stands there and folds his arms over his chest, “So there isn’t a girl?”

Rooster’s eyes widen slightly. He composes himself and sips his coffee, “Other than Amy?” He thinks that that’s the best answer. Then, they get called for pre-flight.

Jake calls Chloe once he’s back in his room that evening, having already forgotten Bradshaw’s answer.

“Baby, you’re not going to believe what Amy told me today.” Chloe giggles excitedly over FaceTime.

Jake smiles, expecting to finally hear gossip on whoever this new girl is. He can’t wait to tease Rooster about this tomorrow.

“Her and Rooster are back together — they figured things out, they’ve been back together for like two weeks now.”

Jake wishes he wasn’t on FaceTime. He has to fight to not have his jaw drop open. No fucking way. Clearly, he doesn’t know Rooster as well as he thinks he does.

…

Tag List:

@unordinare

@shawnsthighs

@ycarlii

@alanadetigy

@marvelsvalhalla

@imdeadinsidesiriuslydead

@cherrycola27

@carolfoxs-blog

@thesewordsareallihavetogive

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@backinwonderl4nd

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@she-writes-sometimes-too

@ceiling-fann

@mak-32

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@perpetuelledaydreaming

@jakexfmc

@hootylou

@throwinsauce

@currentlybradshaw

@saramaple

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #miles teller #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #trouble in paradise

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svfttachi · 2 years

Note

can i get a genma x f reader where genma loves reader but reader doesn’t think she’s gemma’s type at all since he pulls a lot of females who are just different from reader (ex: body, height, style, etc) but he wants to make it clear to her that he loves her for herself and wants to be with reader 👉🏽👈🏽

we need more of genma plz😩

TYPE: Fem!reader, Fluff

WARNING(S): Insecurity Talk

WC: 1071

NOTES: This was a good idea and very easy to accomplish, but I hope everybody reading this understands that nothing anybody says to you should bring you down. We are all pretty and beautiful in our own ways, and nobody should be able to let you forget that. With that in mind, hope you enjoy reading this!

INSECURITIES occur in every shape, way, and form in almost everybody walking on the planet. Relationships are one of the ways that insecurities come up and prevail the most. At least, that was the case for you. It has been a year since the night that Shiranui Genma confessed to you with a bouquet of flowers, a candlelit picnic, and a shiny night sky. That night was the most romantic night you have ever experienced, but it also began the string of hatred that has followed behind you ever since.

Day by day, just walking in the village was enough to trigger your emotions because of the looks you get. Women younger and older than you judged you for being with the one and only Shiranui Genma, who was notorious for going out with half of the village’s population. When it comes to looks, he takes the gold star, and when it comes to romantic gestures, he takes the whole cake. You, on the other hand, did not feel like you could step up to the level of every girl he has ever gone out with, especially since people continued to look at you differently.

Frankly, you wondered what kept you in the spotlight in Genma’s eyes. When you were walking in the village gaining those staring eyes, you couldn’t understand what exactly Genma saw in you. You were just an average girl in your own eyes, and to some of those other girls, you were a little less.

“Hey, hon, are you ready for—”

Currently, you are sitting in front of the big floor mirror in your shared bedroom, staring at your reflection. As you prodded at your lips, eyes, nose, and cheeks, you were completely oblivious to the gentle and calming tone of Genma’s voice entering the room and cutting himself off halfway through his sentence. He stood at the door frame, watching as you viewed yourself in the mirror. “Y/N?” Genma called out to you, knocking lightly on the wall.

You snapped out of the craze you were in and turned your torso to look at the source of the knocking. His hazel eyes bore into your own E/C orbs, and it was clear that he knew something was wrong. “Is… there a reason why you’re sitting on the cold, hardwood floor, staring at the mirror?” Genma questioned with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Um… I—I was making sure there was no lint in my hair,” you muttered, immediately getting off of the floor, “It must have blown right off by the fan.”

A nervous giggle escaped your mouth as you began to avoid eyeing Genma. The highly experienced jonin wasn’t pleased with the answer you gave him, so he walked up to you. The toothpick stuck in between his lips shot out of his mouth and directly into the trashcan next to the mirror. You were caught off guard by the sudden action, but the hands that pressed onto your shoulders were enough to bring your focus back on Genma. Now, the eye contact was inevitable, and you can clearly see the sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Y/N, you can tell me anything, you know?” Genma whispered quietly, waiting for a response from you.

No verbal or physical response was given to the man, yet there was a small signal that showed you were suffering on the inside. A tear escaped from the corner of your eye and began to roll down the side of your nose. It wasn’t long before you were comfortably in the strong arms of Genma with a hand placed on the back of your head. You brought your own arms up to wrap around his torso as the tears began to fall faster thanks to gravity.

“Why do you like me so much, Gen?” you asked, words somewhat muffled against the soft material of his t-shirt. Genma furrowed his brows at your peculiar question and started to pull away so he could get a good look at your face. He could see the seriousness displayed on your face, but he didn’t know why you would ask such a question. “What do you mean, Y/N? Are people looking at you weirdly in the village again? If so, I’m going to have a word with anyone who looks at you differently than I do,” Genma spoke with tenderness in his tone.

“It’s gotten worse, Gen… sometimes I would just be getting the groceries, and someone would whisper about you and why you chose me out of all the pretty girls around here. And I keep thinking that it has to be my physical appearance that sets me away from everyone else in the village… and it hurts to look at myself in the mirror looking for the reason behind the gossip,” you said, mumbling some of your words through your sad tone.

Genma sighed and brought the hem of his shirt up to rub away the tears still protruding from your face, taking in the appearance of your red eyes. He was aware of the talks that go around, especially when he walks around the village as well. It always centered around Genma’s type and who he finds attractive, and everytime he overheard someone talking about it, he could only wish to talk some sense into those people either physically or verbally. But your face comes into his mind whenever he does hear these people talking about his relationship with you, and it would be enough for him to calm down. He just didn’t think it would get to you this badly, and it never has been this bad for you.

“Y/N, you’re the only girl I would ever want to be with. You’re the prettiest, beautiful, and sparkling ray of sunshine that has ever made its way in my path, and I am so grateful that we went official one year ago. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t get to wake up next to you every morning or eat lunch and dinner together everyday. Honestly… I’d probably go insane because there is this amazing girl that I could never imagine with anyone but me. And anyone who has anything to say about that can come say it to my face directly,” Genma said, beginning to caress your cheeks, “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you, too.”

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autumntouched · 1 year

Text

Day 11 of Ode to Phoenix

Inspired by Glen's tweet about Monica

"Monica Barbaro, who's representing female aviators everywhere in Top Gun: Maverick, gave my niece her own "Phoenix" Barbie on premiere day signed "keep your beautiful fire burning bright." The impact of "Phoenix" on young women is going to be incredible to watch"

Yes indeed, Glen, yes indeed

Summary: Natasha meets Hangman's family at an open house for the base

Pairings: Single Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

A/N: What do you do when need a little more time for your future Ode to Phoenix posts? Turn to a little real life inspo, apparently. No edits just straight from my brain to the page.

Open House

“Are you sure you’re not in for Six Flags?” Mash, one of the aviators from her squad, asks. Normally Natasha would be one of the first ones onboard for a day at the amusement park, but this Saturday morning she’s already dressed in her flight suit.

“Uh-uh,” she hums around the bobby pins held between her lips while she puts her hair up.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun, and we’ll have an even number.”

Natasha slides the last pin into place and checks the back of her bun in the bathroom mirror. “I can’t. I already have plans. Next time.”

Mash grumbles about having to ride by himself and lets her go. She pours herself a travel mug of coffee and checks her watch. Enough time to make a breakfast sandwich before Payback picks her up. English muffin, eggs, sausage, and cheese with Sriracha. He’s outside five minutes early, and she tosses everything in the sink to clean later before hurrying out to the car. She hands him the sandwich she made for him, knowing he’d only grabbed himself a granola bar for breakfast.

“Thanks,” he says excitedly. Natasha also passes him a paper towel so he doesn’t stain his uniform while cramming down the sandwich in four bites. She gives him a look of disgust and takes a reasonable bite of her own.

“I can’t drive and eat,” he says through a mouthful as he pulls off. “Damn, that was good, Phoenix.”

“Everything’s good with Sriracha,” she swears.

Fanboy can still smell the sandwiches when he gets in and pouts that he doesn’t get one. “Offer to drive some time,” Natasha teases, “and I’ll cook for you too.”

They get to the airfield and check-in, sliding their aviators on against the bright day. The skies are clear and the weather’s nice enough that their flight suits are comfortable. A range of aircraft is parked across the tarmac with tents set up in between for food vendors and family activities. Today is the base open house, part of the reason her squad is so eager to be elsewhere so they can avoid the traffic of military and civilian families coming to base.

But Natasha loves open houses. Getting to see children’s faces light up while they learn about what she does, hearing veterans’ service stories, or talking to families remembering their military loved ones are part of what makes her job meaningful. And there’s no moment more special than when little girls see there’s someone like them at the controls of such powerful machines.

The three of them take their time strolling toward the F/A-18 Hornet where they’ll be stationed for the day. Most of the time they’re absorbed in their own aircraft so it’s fun to get a chance to explore the others.

Her jaw nearly drops when she sees who else volunteered for the day. “Hangman! What are you doing here?” she sputters.

He grins toothily. As usual a toothpick dangles from his mouth. “I imagine the same as you, Phoenix,” he drawls. “Looking pretty for the cameras.”

She’s even more surprised to see Payback and Hangman go in for a man hug and him bump fists with Fanboy. Since when does he know her friends like that? Hangman and Payback give one another grief over their respective basketball teams and roll their eyes at her love for the Splash Brothers, Steph Curry and Klay Thompson. It is not just because they're hot or because Riley Curry gives stellar post game interviews, and it's not bandwagoning when you're from the Bay.

It’s not long before they have to break off their conversation to show visitors around the aircraft. As usual, the children get excited when they see aviators who look like them. Natasha can see them tug their parents over, pointing insistently. Along with Payback, Fanboy, and Hangman, she gladly crouches and gives high fives for pictures with the kids or joins in for family photos. A little girl is so excited to see Natasha that she flings herself around her thighs for a hug.

They meet a Korean War aviator and his family and two real life Rosie the Riveters who have been friends since their days building WWII planes together.

Natasha’s waving goodbye to a commander’s family when she hears high pitched voices squeal, “Uncle Jake! Uncle Jake!”

Three children come running full speed at Hangman. The oldest, probably no more than seven, gets to him first and launches herself into his open arms. He picks her up and hugs her tightly while she wraps her legs around him like a koala. The two boys go for his waist and leg so that he looks like a climbing tree of children.

He greets them boisterously, giving the little girl a big kiss on her forehead and ruffling both boys’ hair. “How are my favorite kiddos?” he asks. They all fight to speak over one another while a blonde woman and an amiable older couple catch up to them. This must be Hangman’s family!

“Is that your plane?” the little girl asks, pointing to the Hornet.

“It’s one like it,” he tells her. “Hey, Pheebs, you want to meet that cool lady I told you about?”

The little girl nods so hard that Natasha worries she might give herself a concussion. To her shock, Hangman turns toward her. “C’mon I’m going to introduce you to Phoenix.”

And suddenly, she’s surrounded by his family who greet her as if they’ve known her for years. The older couple are his parents. The blonde woman is his sister and mother of two of the children while the third is one of their cousins. Hangman waves over Payback and Fanboy to introduce them too.

“Phoebe, this is Phoenix. Phoenix, Phoebe.”

The little girl tucks her hair behind her ear and reaches out to shake Natasha’s hand. She’s wearing a flight suit with a patch that Hangman must have given her. “Do you fly with Uncle Jake?” she asks, leaning her head shyly against her uncle’s.

“Sometimes,” Natasha smiles.

Hangman grins at his niece and sets her down. “They can’t put all the best pilots on the same squad, sweetheart.” Has he really told his family that she’s one of the best pilots? “Didn’t you have something you wanted to ask Phoenix when you met her?”

Phoebe’s face lights up, and she turns to her mother. “Mommy, can I have it please?”

Noel, his sister, reaches into the large tote on her shoulder and pulls out a small helmet. She hands it to Phoebe who presents it solemnly to Natasha. “Could you sign the helmet Uncle Jake got for me please?”

Natasha’s still trying to catch up to this new side of Hangman who beams at his family and has a cool uncle fan club. “Of course, I’d be honored,” she promises. “I don’t have a pen though so–.”

His sister is prepared and hands her a sharpie. Natasha takes it gratefully and considers what to write. She glances at Hangman who’s watching her with a strange gleam in his eyes. Trying to figure out what’s going through his head almost distracts her from what she’s supposed to be doing.

Natasha uncaps the pen with Hangman’s help and writes as neatly as she can, Phoebe, Keep your beautiful fire burning bright. With Admiration, Phoenix.”

Phoebe’s mouth drops open and the helmet nearly tumbles from her hands when Natasha returns it. The Seresins gasp excitedly at the message. “Can you read what that says, sweetie?” Noel prompts her daughter.

Phoebe reads, following her finger along the words. Hangman gently adjusts it so she doesn’t smear the still drying ink. “Phoebe. Keep your be…”

“Beautiful,” Noel supplies.

Phoebe nods. “Keep your beautiful fire bur…”

Hangman helps her out. “Keep your beautiful fire burning bright. With Admiration, Phoenix. How’s that, skittle? What do you say?”

“So cool,” Phoebe says in awe. She looks up at Natasha, even more in awe. Natasha feels her heart bursting at how adorable and sweet Phoebe is. “Thank you, Phoenix.” Welp, there go her ovaries too.

“You’re welcome. Want to see what we have to do before we take off?”

“Gotta put my helmet on first,” Phoebe says, wiggling the gear onto her head. “Okay!” And without prompting, she slips her hand into Natasha’s. “Let’s go!”

His nephews, Connor and Declan, tag along at her side.

And the soaring feeling Natasha gets as they circle the jet together is the same one she had her first time behind the controls. Sharing her love of flying with them reminds her why she does this.

Hangman's family insists on pictures with all of them and adorable one of her and Phoebe that Natasha is too shy to admit she might frame.

He's just as shy when he thanks her for being so gracious to them after they've left.

"So you think I'm the best, huh?" she asks.

He bumps her shoulder. "Don't let it go to head. I was trying to inspire children here."

Natasha waves another family over. "Too late. I'm going to take every chance to remind you that you said that about me."

Hangman doesn't look at all put out by the threat.

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

#ode to phoenix #28 days of phoenix #natasha phoenix trace fic #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace fic #phoenix fic #jake hangman seresin

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lookingupatthesamemoon · 5 months

Text

janAUary #2 - fake dating

pairing: Beatrix x Ralph Cifaretto

summary: Beatrix has been told time and time again to never give Ralph the time of day. Of course, she thinks it’s funnier not to listen.

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this is essentially somewhat of a reimagining of part of a fic i wrote this summer. it takes place near the end of sopranos season 3. Mack, Tony’s gf in this fic, is the s/i of a friend of mine :) banner is from @saradika

“Let me think about that and I’ll get back to you,” Beatrix said smugly. “Now, are you gonna order something or are you just gonna pester me all night?”

“Oh! Is that what you think of me? I’m a pest?” Ralph teased. “Why don’t you pour me a martini? Extra olives, and I mean extra!”

“A martini?” She asked, stifling a laugh. “That’s kind of a girly drink, no?”

Shockingly, rather than getting mad, he just cracked a joke back. “Hey, I prefer to call it metrosexual. Goes with my whole look, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does,” Beatrix replied. “Is this enough olives?” She asked, sliding the drink over to him.

“Hit me with a few more.”

She obliged, plopping another two, three, four olives into his drink before he was satisfied. Eight olives? Maybe he was a mad man after all. She watched him curiously as he stuck one with the toothpick, grabbing it in his teeth and sucking it into his mouth. She almost shivered - she hated olives.

Bea’s thoughts were interrupted by the bar’s phone ringing. She held a finger up at Ralphie as she went to pick it up, answering as pleasantly as possible. Upon picking it up, she heard Mackenzie on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Beatrix! Got a sec?” Mackenzie asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah, Mack, what’s up?”

“Well, I was just talking with Tony about this dinner thing we were setting up, and we wanted to invite you,” Mackenzie explained. “I don’t know how busy you are, but it’s Friday night if you wanted to come. I figured it would be nice to catch up some more, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely! Who’s gonna be there?” Beatrix inquired, already putting the pieces together.

“Well, me and Tony will be there, obviously, and then, um, Paulie and Ralph and whatever girls they bring. Oh, and Silvio, but I don’t think you’ve met him yet.”

“Okay, yeah… I’ll be there, Mack, count me in,” she smiled.

“Yay! Okay, so, we’ll be at Nuovo Vesuvio at eight on Friday - you know how to get there, right?”

“Yeah, I know where it is. Okay, I’ll see you, Mack.”

As she hung up the phone, she turned back around to face Ralph, who had very clearly been eavesdropping on her conversation.

“Was that Mackenzie?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she was inviting me to the same dinner you just tried to.”

“Decisions, decisions, huh?”

“Well… I’m thinking we could kind of play around with everybody, you know?” Beatrix suggested, grinning deviously. “Look… I’ll just say, I’ve been advised against going out with you.”

“Oh, so they’ve been plotting against me here since I walked in the door, huh?” He chuckled.

“Exactly,” Beatrix nodded. “They know you’re coming with a date, they just don’t know who. So, I’m thinking… we should go together. It’ll freak ‘em out, you know? We’ll make sure to be the last two there, make an entrance, rub it in their faces a little? Let ‘em know they were wrong?”

“You know, I gotta say, Trixie… I like it,” Ralphie responded, taking a sip of his olive-overloaded martini. “Someone’s gotta remind ‘em that when you assume, you make an ass outta you and me, huh?”

“I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when we walk in together,” Beatrix laughed. “I don’t know why they’ve been making you out to be, I don’t know, a monster, or something. You’re more like a puppy dog I could keep in my purse. A feisty one, though.”

Ralph chuckled, taking another sip of his drink. He knew, perhaps, by the standards of other people, he was a monster. But what Beatrix didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right? He watched her as she scrubbed at the back counter, popping another olive into his mouth. She wouldn’t go out with him for money, but she would go out with him out of spite? “So, we callin’ this a date, or what?”

“I don’t know that I would call it that,” Beatrix scoffed, a small smile gracing her face. “But, if you wanna call it that, go ahead. I’ll wear something nice, you’ll get to live out your little fantasy… It’ll be fun.”

And so, as Friday night rolled around, Beatrix found herself waiting around outside the Crazy Horse on her night off for Ralph Cifaretto to pick her up and take her to dinner. She had dressed up a bit - not for Ralph, of course, but to help with her commitment to the bit. She sighed, feeling the straps of her silky red dress sagging off her shoulders within the sleeves of her jacket. She opted out of wearing tights, but as the winter wind nipped at her calves, she began to regret her decision. In fact, maybe this whole night was a stupid idea. Before she could make up her mind about bailing, though, Ralph’s car finally pulled up. She watched him as he swiftly got out of the car, coming over to greet her. As she took a step towards him, she stumbled, her feet still not used to the heels she was wearing.

“Fallin’ for me, huh?” He chuckled, offering an arm to keep her stable. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Beatrix smiled. “You’re not bad yourself.”

“So, what’s our plan here?” He asked, his hands on her waist, their faces dangerously close.

“Why don’t you get me in your car first and we’ll go from there.” She smiled as she lowered herself into the passenger seat, to which he had so kindly opened the door for her. There was a certain air of giddiness between them both in the car, almost like they were teenagers about to score. Ralph clearly wanted to put the work in, as if things would become real if he tried hard enough. As much as Beatrix didn’t want to admit it to herself, it might have worked if he played his cards right.

“We should park further back,” Beatrix insisted as they approached the restaurant. Ralph looked over at her quizzically, relatively used to having prime parking at Vesuvio’s. “Well, we gotta keep an eye out for everyone else’s cars right?”

“Yeah, yeah, but then we got a longer walk… Whattya want us to be late?” Ralph whined.

“Fashionably,” she smirked. “Come on, Ralphie,” she pouted.

“Alright, alright,” Ralph sighed, pulling into a spot in the back half of the lot. “See how easy I fold for you?”

“Oh, please… So, what’s our excuse gonna be for getting in late?”

“… We could tell ‘em we were fuckin’”

“Yeah, right,” Beatrix laughed. “As if they’d believe I’d let you touch me.”

“Whatever… You know, I could get just about any girl in Jersey, but it’s you I’m after - doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Ralph… I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, between Rosalie and your reputation… I can’t get involved. Besides, is it really that good to get all your girls with money? Don’t you want something better than that?”

“Sure, but, it ain’t that easy… I guess I’ve never exactly been the most lovable guy.”

Beatrix looked over at him, face full of pity. She put her hand on his knee as a sign of support, gently rubbing it with her fingers. By now, she was starting to care a little less about blurring the lines. Besides, she was about to play the role of his girlfriend for the evening - maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to start getting into character early.

“Come on, we don’t have to have this conversation,” he sighed. “I just saw Paulie go inside, we should probably follow suit, huh?”

“Yeah, let’s go. Let’s show them what they’re all afraid of. When we walk in there, I’m your girlfriend.”

He got out of the car, grinning slightly as he made his way over to the passenger side to help Beatrix out as quickly as he could. She couldn’t help but crack a smile, genuine this time, watching him get all nervous. She took his hand graciously, pretending for a moment that this really was serious as Ralph pulled at her. They walked briskly as they entered the restaurant, Ralph leading the way to he and his friends’ usual table, never dropping Beatrix’s hand. As the table came into his sight, he moved his arm to her waist, leaning down very briefly to whisper a “follow my lead” into her ear.

In the distance, Tony and Mackenzie immediately recognized Ralph as he weaved between other patrons. “Christ, here he comes, finally,” Tony muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I think I see Beatrix, too, coming behind him,” Mackenzie remarked. “Thank God she finally made it, I was starting to worry.”

It was only as Ralph and Beatrix approached the table, laughing together about God knows what, their hands already all over each other, that Mack and Tony began to put the pieces together.

“Ton’, everybody, I am so sorry we’re late,” Ralph sighed as he arrived at his seat. “This one’s just insatiable! We completely lost track of the time playin’ tonsil tennis,” he snickered.

Beatrix smacked him playfully in the chest in response, her cheeks turning a slight pink at the thought. As if. As the two of them took their seats next to each other, Mackenzie and Tony just stared, almost dumbfounded. Two empty chairs remained: one to the left of Beatrix, and one to the right of Ralph. Mack couldn’t believe what she was seeing - Beatrix and Ralph? Did his ridiculous attempts at wooing her actually work? How did that happen? Her jaw was resisting the urge to drop. Tony was sporting his classic unimpressed expression - this is exactly what he had hoped wouldn’t happen.

“That’s a waste of two chairs!” Paulie commented, shaking his head.

“We would’ve told you ahead of time, but uh, we didn’t wanna ruin the surprise,” Ralph said, glancing over at Beatrix. She offered him a hand to hold once more, displaying their “love” for the others at the table. Mack almost gagged seeing it. She couldn’t stand Ralph - but she couldn’t tell Beatrix why.

Throughout the night, there was clear tension at the table, but Beatrix and Ralph were so caught up in playing pretend that it just rolled off their backs. It was what they wanted, to freak the others out. Once they had some wine down their gullets, it almost felt like they weren’t pretending anymore. Beatrix found herself hanging all over Ralph later into the night, playing the part so perfectly that she almost forgot it was supposed to be a one time thing. As much of a pest as Ralph could be, and whatever bad history he had, she couldn’t deny that she was enjoying his company.

Not too long after the dessert round, the group decided to call it a night. The meal was through, and the tension between Tony and Ralph was becoming hard to simply ignore. Sometimes, as Beatrix was starting to put together, the DiMeo crime family had to be handled like a clique of high school girls - let whatever petty drama was happening play out, and within a matter of days, they’re having sleepovers and wearing matching outfits again. They would probably cool down by morning. As everyone was walking outside, saying their goodbyes to each other with hugs and handshakes, Tony pulled Beatrix aside.

“Hey, Beatrix,” he started. “Look, I know you don’t know me too well, but, uh, and any friend of Mackenzie’s is good in my book. I just, uh, I wanted to let you know… If you would rather, you know, not ride home with Ralphie, for whatever reason, Mackenzie and I can-“

Before he could finish his offer, Ralph strolled back over, slinging his arm around Beatrix’s waist. She smirked, turning to kiss him, perhaps a little too passionately for a fake date. He looked at her in shock, his expression quickly turning smug as he remembered Tony’s presence. “Whattya say, toots, you ready to go?” He asked.

Beatrix simply nodded, giving a short wave to Tony and Mack as she and Ralph began to head back to his car. His arm remained around her waist far after they had left everyone’s view. The cold air had sobered him up enough to drive, but as he helped Beatrix into the passenger seat, he decided maybe they should just sit for a minute.

“That was nice,” Beatrix smiled. “Maybe I should give you a serious try.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Call me next week, maybe we can go for round two.”

#janauary2024 #rye writes !#self ship #ship: gladiator's paradise #suggestive #< not like super just a brief mention but still tagging just in case

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