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desert-fern · 9 months

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Ring Around My Rosie - Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw X Fem!Nurse Reader (WWII European Theatre AU)

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw X Fem!Reader

Summary: The year is 1944 and the Second World War rages on. You have been a nurse in Belgium for nearly three years, having seen the effects of the worst things human beings can do to one another. One day, like always, an injured man is brought in. An American sailor too far from the ocean he came out of on D-Day and you both are entranced.

Warnings: blood, bullet removal, mentions of Nazis (it is a WWII AU so…), probably inaccurate depictions of wartime nursing, most likely factually incorrect WWII history, fluff so fluffy I gave myself a cavity just writing this, 1940s Bradley Bradshaw (yes, he is a warning)

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: If you can’t guess, this oneshot is a WWII AU inspired by a cover of Ed Sheeran’s Nancy Mulligan that I have linked here! I’m 90% I fucked up my Spotify Wrapped for this fic so I hope you enjoy!

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Well, I met him at Guy's in the second world war

And I was working on a soldier's ward

The scent of blood was thick in your nostrils as you dragged yourself out of the field hospital in Les Annais, Belgium. The Germans had been menacing your location for weeks, baiting your troops and sending fractions limping back into your capable hands.

You knew nothing of the tactics being used, very few did. You were here as a nurse, not as a tactician, not as anyone of note, save for being the longest serving nurse at the 51st Field Hospital. The others had bailed out as soon as they could, doing their duty but the gruesome fighting months earlier at the Battle of the Bulge had sent many fleeing.

It wasn’t like you could blame them.

You were still new, having joined up as soon as you could convince your father and while you were a month shy of 23, you had never experienced anything like this. Your grandmother had told your father off, reminding him that it was his own stubborn streak that raced through you.

But you were unprepared for everything you would have to do out here, hundreds of kilometers away from home, with the least amount of training that they could spare. At the beginning, you could only offer comfort to some of these men, being unable to save them from their wounds, as they cried for their mothers, wives, children, begging for the pain to end.

Sometimes - well, most times - these men were boys your age or younger. Lives that had only just begun were snuffed out in the most violent of ways and you were left to piece together your shattered heart day after day.

So you closed yourself off, choosing to help as many as you could. The conditions were brutal, the wounds you saw even more so. A year and a half ago, you didn’t know how it felt to hold down a screaming man so a doctor could try and save a septic leg. You were a shoulder to cry on, a smiling face despite the bleakness, and more often than not, an object of flirtation and admiration.

The sky was a miserable gray, like it always was. It seemed like the sky was trying to match the color of the tents scattered around the outside of the main camp, doing its best to hide you from the prying eyes of the German aerial patrols.

The Luftwaffe were always around. Luckily for you, they couldn’t aim for shit, but you couldn’t deny that the German movements had been far more frequent. Sometimes a young man crawled through the borders surrendering to the English and American forces and begging for help.

No one else would treat him, refusing to even get close to him.

You had chastised them all, reminding them of their promises to help those in need, and slowly you had gained some help in the care of these young men, though they were few and far between.

Shouts caught your attention, sending you racing through the muddy field back to the hospital. A group of soldiers, Americans by the sound of them, were calling for help and you would be a hypocrite if you didn’t help.

Hurrying through the door ahead of them, you saw a small group, maybe seven or so men approach. They were muddy, beaten and bruised, but your eyes fell upon the man being held up by his compatriots. “What happened?” You asked, quickly replacing a red headed man and half-carried the brunette towards the only open bed in the corner.

“A bunch of Krauts caught us by surprise, caught Rooster here with a few shots and some ass- pardon me ma’am, idiot jumped out of a tree and landed on top of him,” the man explained, helping you lay this Rooster on the bed.

You focused on the brunette’s bloody uniform, eyeballing the few bullet wounds in his arms, but you were the most concerned about the broken leg. It only took one infected wound and that limb would be gone. Not today, you thought. “Dot, I need the suture kit and a basin. You,” you stated, standing up to face the man standing next to you.

“Mulligan, ma’am,” he told you, standing up straighter. “Lewis Mulligan, US Navy.”

“Lewis, can you help me hold him down? I can’t stitch him up and hold him down at the same time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dot hurried over with the makeshift kit, placing it on the bed along with a basin of water. Unbuttoning his shirt, you found that two of the three bullet wounds still had the bullet in them and that the third had begun to clot against his shirt. Pulling the scissors from the pants pocket of your uniform and cutting the shirt away, you finally had a better view at what you were working with. “Fucking Krauts. Guess they must be really desperate to keep using shitty ammunition,” you remarked dryly, dipping a set of tweezers in a basin of cheap spirits.

Lewis didn’t say a word, clearly stunned by your foul language. “Ma’am?”

Sighing, you turned to face him. “Lewis, I need your help holding him down. The longer this takes, the bigger the risk of infection. I can’t do that if you are going to be shocked when I cuss and swear. Can you help me or not?”

He nodded, coming to stand on the other side of the unconscious man. Hands placed on his friend’s shoulder and hip, Lewis gave you a nod and you began.

The bullets were soft and slippery. They slid out of your tweezers more times than you could count, but you made it work, finally prying the two out of his shoulder and side. Lewis wasn’t looking at you, his face green by the time the last bullet clinked into the porcelain tray. “I can take it from here, Mulligan. Go back to your group, tell them…”

“His name is Bradley.”

You gave him a smile. “Tell them Bradley should be okay unless he does something stupid.”

He left you alone, perched on the side of Bradley’s bed, stitching him up. You saw his eyelashes flutter as you finished the last stitch and quickly stood up. If he lunged at you, you had to be standing. Enough men had grabbed at you when they woke up and you had quickly learned not to make that mistake again.

Too many bruises, too many sprains, too many punches thrown.

To your surprise, Bradley let out a groan and his eyes slowly blinked open. That groan turned into a hiss of pain as he tried to sit up. “Stay down,” you said gently, approaching slowly with your hands up. “You’re in a field hospital in Belgium.”

His eyes flicked to you, taking in your bloody uniform and trailing over your face. “The others?” He said in a panicked voice. “Where are the others?”

“Lewis and the redhead are outside, they carried you here. Seven of you came up to us, that’s all I know Bradley.”

A nod. “Thank you Ma’am.” Relief was written all over his face, in the way his eyes fell closed for a moment and his shoulders dropped.

“I just finished stitching up your chest, but I need to look at your leg. Can I do that?”

“Anything for you doll,” Bradley replied with a wink as he tried to lay down. But he winced and you were there, your bloodstained hands firmly holding his shoulders and neck while you guided him back down.

Never had I seen such beauty before

The moment that I saw ya

You moved quickly to treat his leg, finding that thankfully it was just a broken ankle and not somewhere further up. The number of men that had come in with a broken leg and left with one and a half was a number that you didn’t like to think about. It was far too high.

But Bradley wouldn’t be one of them and you couldn’t help but send up a prayer of thanks. The minute he’d opened his eyes, you’d been transfixed by the deep amber of them. A deep brown like the whiskey that was saved for special occasions and sparkled like a polished gun barrel or belt buckle. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen handsome men. Quite the opposite. You saw all kinds of men at their worst. Lots of them lookers, but you hadn’t felt a connection to one until him.

His gaze made it hard to focus as you fumbled with his boot lace, finally undoing it after what felt like hours. The smell still made you recoil a little, even after nearly a year in the nursing corps. Regardless, you still had to do your job. So you worked quickly, removing both boots and socks and compared both sides to assess where the break was.

A soft touch to his foot had him chuckle and you glanced up at him curiously. “Sorry, just ticklish, is all,” Bradley said sheepishly, hand coming up to rub at his mustache.

You gave him a smile before returning to work, splinting his ankle and cleaning the blood, sweat, and mud from his skin. “Better now?” You asked him, tucking a blanket over his body and helping him into a clean-ish shirt.

His eyes met yours and despite being in pain, Bradley shot you a small smile. “Better now that I can see my guardian angel.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that one, sailor? More times than you’ve used that line on anyone in stockings.”

Bradley just grinned at your retreating form and let his eyes slip shut. The pain in his body was getting to be too much, but as he dozed off, he found himself listening to your voice as you reprimanded a soldier barely older than yourself for getting out of bed. You intrigued him, that’s all.

He said I was his yellow rose

And we got married wearing borrowed clothes

Weeks had passed since that first interaction and both you and Bradley had been writing to one another as often as you could spare. While in the hospital, you learned that he and his friends had been separated from their landing crew as they made their way inland from the coast. He’d been on Omaha Beach during what had become known as the “D-Day” landing in Normandy.

Not that he’d been allowed to tell you that, but he had anyways, trusting you implicitly. He’d had to leave after nearly a month under your care, but made a promise to come back.

You hoped he would, but neither of you knew what would take place.

The fighting had drawn closer to your hospital as the Allies fought for Belgium, liberating it in 14 days and wrestling it from German hands. There had been some celebration amongst your ranks, but your heart ached for Bradley, praying every night that he came back to you.

For now though, you had to settle for letters. Bradley’s smooth voice seemed to read every letter aloud to you, each word wrapped in that gentle, flirtatious tone he had used every day you had looked after him.

Doll. My darling Rosie, the most recent letter began. They usually started out with some endearment, God knows he had used enough of them as he tried to win you over despite your colleagues warning him that you wouldn’t fall.

You remember Lew? Well he told me that writing to you was a waste because I wouldn’t get any letters back, but I know you. You wrote me back like you always do. Means I’m going to have a nice big stack of letters waiting for me the minute the post catches up with us.

We’re still marching. It’s been hell on my ankle, but you patched me up nice and neat so I’m not too worried. At least the view is nice. I think you would like it where we camped tonight, crickets are chirping now as I write this and it’s peaceful. Kinda like those nights you spent sitting with me when we’d talk about everything and I would always get worried that you would get sick of me jawing and talking your ear off, but you never did. Spoiled me for a good listener. The boys here don’t talk much. Battle fatigue is crawling all over them and it is always quiet around these times cause no one says a word.

It’s awful lonely though, sweetheart. I miss your laugh, especially how you would have to cover it when it was the middle of the night. Closest thing to home I had in a while. I hope you can hear my voice in this letter because I know I hear yours every time. And I mean every word, Doll, I hope you know that.

When I come back, I want to take you somewhere nice. Get you all dressed up in something pretty but you would still be the most beautiful dame I ever saw if you came out in your uniform that I know you are wearing now. Maybe I’ll take you dancing like you talked about, holding you close for song after song and if I’m lucky we would be going steady after that. That kiss on the cheek you gave me before I left is just haunting me because I had a taste of the future, if you feel the same of course.

Call me a flirt, doll, but I’m just sweet on you. I’m doing everything in my power not to go AWOL and come all the way back to find you, but I hope this letter finds you well instead.

Thinking about you, my English rose.

Yours always,

Bradley.

Wiping a tear from your cheek, you carefully folded the letter back up and placed it with the others. They were all like that, yearning to be back here instead of wherever he was, thoughts of the future and he always, always, signed it off with “Thinking of you,” or lately “Yours always.” Every letter gave you hope and while you knew some of yours had likely been delayed, you always jumped up like you’d sat on a tack whenever the post arrived.

Dot had started teasing you the second that Bradley left, but one reminder of Lewis and she too was blushing. The two of you sat in your quiet fear, praying that neither one of you would get a letter from one of their unit mates saying that one or both was gone.

Your next letter went out the same day.

Hopefully, it would all be alright. So for now, you let yourself dream of dancing in Bradley’s arms, Glen Miller playing softly in the background as he held you close, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Hundreds of miles away, huddled under a thin blanket, Bradley pulled a creased letter from his pocket, finally having the chance to read it. As the letter slid out of the envelope, a sweet smell burst free and filled his nostrils. He recognized your perfume, the scent having filled him with joy every moment he spent by your side as he recovered.

Shifting a little and adjusting the blanket, he opened it up, catching a second page that tried to escape in the sudden breeze. Bradley moved his lantern over and began reading your tight script that had his heart skipping a beat each time he saw it fill a page.

Bradley,

I received another letter from you today and I thought I had best get writing so I don’t miss the post truck. I do remember Lewis. Hopefully he remembers Dot because she is patiently waiting for a response to her letter. I don’t think it matters, the sentiment is still the same and I would rather see you at the end of this harrowing ordeal than have you replay thoughts on paper.

I had been meaning to ask about your ankle. If it ever gives way, splint it like I showed you. I don’t want you to break it again, even if that would mean you have to come back to me. But for the moment, I am glad for your letters. They make me feel closer to you. Describe the view for me, please. I see nothing but muddy fields, canvas walls, and wounded men. Is it raining a lot on your march? I know your boots were ruined when you were brought here. Did you ever find new ones? He had, but the source of them sent his stomach twisting in knots. Pulling boots off a man killed in battle felt savage, like they didn’t matter as a person.

I miss our talks as well. I learned so much about you so quickly and I feel like I know everything about you. I miss the snort you make when you laugh, especially when I told you that the other nurses called me Rosie because I was the only English nurse here. I was worried you would stop breathing some nights the way you clutched your chest as you laughed like you had never heard anything so funny. But I would give anything to see your smile, the one where it reaches your eyes and it seems you swell up with joy. I know there isn’t much time for smiles now but if I could just give you one of mine, I would.

Send my love to the boys with you. War is hard enough without having to deal with loneliness at the same time and you all are in my thoughts and prayers. I miss you terribly and find myself daydreaming of you every spare moment I have, which is not often anymore, but I drift off to sleep with your past letters in my hands and your words in my mind.

Your confessions for after this war sound like heaven. I hadn’t let myself dream too long about what will become of us. We have both heard the stories of wartime romances often enough to know how precarious they can be, but if you have hope, dearest, then so do I. I’ll wear my best dress and you in your uniform, we will be the best dressed pair at the dance hall. Nothing sounds better than dancing close with you. I don’t care how presumptuous it is, the way my heart yearns for your nearness, I can give my answer to your most secret hopes without hesitation.

If you asked, dearest, I would be yours in a heartbeat. So long as you are mine as well. Bradley breathed out a laugh, trying not to wake his comrades. He had been kicking himself ever since he had sent that letter, hoping you felt the same and by the grace of God, you did. I may be English but we aren’t always prim and proper when angered. I could and would write a million pages with barely any thought, but the truck is waiting for me, so I must end this letter here. I hope my words keep you warm in this autumn weather and please, if you can, come back to me.

Stay safe, dearest.

Your Rose

The letter crinkled in his grip as Bradley bit back a wide grin. You were okay. You wanted to go steady. You cared for him. Fuck the war, he though. His doll was waiting for him back in Belgium and not for the first time, he hoped that the war would end for purely selfish reasons. You were waiting and his mama had raised a good boy who never left a woman waiting, he wasn’t going to start now.

The radio in the small hospital crackled as the BBC broadcast announced Germany’s surrender as Russian troops poured into Berlin. Cheers went up amongst the nurses and the men they were caring for, but you knew that the casualties were high on both sides. The United States still fought with Japan in the Pacific, chasing them back towards their island, and you knew that the fighting would go on for a long time.

The only thing? You hadn’t heard from Bradley in months, not since March of this year; 1945. It was now May.

The worry in you grew every day, trying and failing to hide it from Dot and the others around you. It hadn’t affected your work, but it affected nearly everything else. You were hardly sleeping, rereading his letters so often you had them memorized. “Thinking of you” was written in his neat handwriting against the back of your eyelids, and everytime you blinked, you thought of him.

A few days went by since that monumental announcement of the war’s end and some fighting was still happening but Germany’s surrender had a lot of Nazi sympathizers fleeing like rats. But world leaders were acting quickly and you knew that while it would be some time before you would return home to England, it would also not be enough time for Bradley to come back to you here in Les Annais.

So, like always, you went to work. The soldiers around you were still flirtatious, some even outright admitting that they were sweet on you, but you politely told them that you were waiting for your man to come back to you, and that while you were flattered, you just couldn’t.

Sweet smile after sweet smile. Bed bath after bed bath. Infected wound after infected wound. And still, no Bradley.

Then you heard your name shouted from outside. You had been packing your things, having received your letter to head back home, when Dot yelled so loudly you thought a hoard of Nazis were marching toward you. Racing outside dressed in your one non-uniform dress, you saw a Jeep full of men pull up. They too were yelling, and when you ran up, you saw a familiar face not half a meter away.

He was covered in dirt and grime, his hair longer than you had seen and his cheeks were covered in stubble like he hadn’t shaved in a few days, but it was still your Bradley in every way that mattered. “Bradley…” you breathed, coming to a stand-still with your hands over your mouth. You stood stock still, your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you took him in disbelief. “You’re safe…”

“Hey doll,” the rasp in his tone gave you shivers as you met his eyes. They were still the same color as the whiskey you all had drank the night the war was declared over, the same sparkle twinkling like the stars as he took you in. “Look at you. You look beautiful.” Bradley clambered over Simon, nearly elbowing him in the face in his haste to get out of the Jeep. “Prettiest picture I ever saw.

You blushed, ducking your head a little at his compliment. Bradley’s heart soared as he took you in, marveling at how his imagination had been unable to capture the picture perfect moment of you in that dress. You had lived in his thoughts for months, each letter sending pangs of loneliness through him as each moment without you passed. Now, standing in front of you, your hair curled and dressed like a million bucks, Bradley felt his love for you grow infinitely larger.

“You…” you began, looking up at him, your eyes wide in shock. “You came back, sailor.”

“‘Course I did. What kinda man would I be if I left my best girl waiting.”

Dot and the others were still watching intently, keen on seeing what happened when you both finally let your resolve snap. “Come on Rosie! Give your man a kiss!” Lewis hollered from where he stood with Dot in his arms. “He’s only been dreamin’ about this since forever!”

“Mulligan, I swear to God, shut your fucking yap for one minute,” Bradley yelled back, shifting his focus from you to his friend. “Sorry doll, Dot, shouldn’t have said those words with you around. Can you forgive me?”

Shooting Dot a wink, you caught his hand. “If you kiss me hard enough, sailor, I just might forget the whole thing.” You weren’t sure where the boldness came from, but it was worth it when Bradley’s face lit up.

“Is that right?” He said in a low voice. “Just one kiss?”

You shrugged as your gaze fell from his amber eyes to his lips and back again. “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”

That was all it took because next you knew, Bradley had picked you up in his arms and let his lips fall against yours, kissing you so soundly your breath left you in a rush. His hands around your waist held you so securely you didn’t fear falling. Your own hands cradled his face, subconsciously brushing away the tears that fell from his eyes.

He set you back on your feet, but his hands didn’t leave your hips. “So, did you forget about it yet?”

Smiling cheekily back at him, you replied “Forget what?” He chuckled and you let your palms slide down his neck to rest on his chest over his heart. “All that being said, dearest, I leave today. And I know you aren’t down yet.”

“We got separated from the Navy landing crew, doll. Kramer sent a telegram to the high ups and they are sending us on leave for a little while. Especially since we weren’t supposed to be in Berlin,” Bradley told you, a big hand running up and down your back. “So as long as I get to port at a reasonable time, I’m still doing my duty.”

“And when is that, Bradley?” Toying with his jacket, you found yourself chewing on your lip in thought.

“Hey.” His gentle tone had you looking up at his face that was filled with compassion. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ve got it in writing and up here,” Bradley told you, tapping his temple. “My mama always said I had a mind like a steel trap.”

You leaned up onto your tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I’m still going to worry, Bradley. I don’t know how not to. But I trust you. If you say you have it, then you do.”

Bradley leaned down to kiss you again, this time the fierceness of the gesture had you gasping against his mouth. “God I love you.”

The world stood still as you looked up at him. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course, Rosie. Unless you have some other beau running around London that I don’t know about.” He paused, looking down at you. “Wait, you don’t have a beau waiting on you, do you?��

Looking shocked, you shook your head. “No. No, I don’t. My sister was the looker of the two of us.”

By now, Lewis and Dot had run off somewhere and the other men traveling with Bradley had scattered throughout the camp offering help to the pretty young nurses still there.

The two of you were alone.

“Come on,” you said, tugging him towards your tent. “I have something to show you.”

“You could lead me off a cliff, Rosie and I’d follow you happily,” Bradley chirped, relishing in the pretty blush that dusted itself across your face. His body hurt from sleeping sitting up, he hadn’t had a shower and probably smelled terrible, yet even just being near him flustered you to no end.

And he loved it. Maybe not as much as he loved you, but how could he deny you? Your grip on his hand tightened as you pulled him to you, your other hand coming to rest on his jaw. “I didn’t want to do this in public, but I’ve been daydreaming about you kissing me like I’m all you have ever wanted, Bradley.”

The words raced through him, excitement building as he let you guide his face to yours. The first gentle touch of your lips to his had him smiling broadly, and he knew that you were smiling just as hard by the way you pulled back just a little. The next attempt went similarly; the two of you too giddy in the other’s nearness to kiss the other properly.

But he made it work, catching your chin and kissing you soundly. The gasp that fell past your lips gave him an opening and he took it, slipping his tongue past your lips.

Bradley had anticipated some kind of resistance, the feeling probably new to you, but he found none as he continued to kiss you like you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. If anything, you brought in your own fierceness to the gesture, your tongue tangling with his.

When you finally pulled back, cursing your need to breathe real air and not just Bradley’s closeness, you found that his eyes were still screwed shut. “Pinch me,” he breathed out. “This has to be a dream.”

“This is real, dearest,” you replied with a giggle. “Would I lie to you?”

“You promise?” The tone of his voice seemed so young to your ears, reminding you that for all your 25 years, and his 27, he was still too young to have seen everything he likely had seen.

“Of course.”

His eyes fluttered open, shining brightly with unshed tears. “Thank God. I don’t know what I would do if I had imagined you.”

“I’d say that you have a very vivid imagination then, dearest,” you replied softly, turning his face back to yours. When he’d looked away, you didn’t know, but you loved the sight of those warm eyes looking down on you and you would do anything to keep them in your life. “Besides, where would I go then? If I weren’t real, as you say.” Your fingers ran along the back of his neck, gently playing with the short curls. That was something else you hadn’t noticed until now; the natural curls that had emerged once his hair had a little length.

“Marry me.”

You froze, shock filling you from head to toe. “I beg your pardon?”

“Marry me, Rosie. I don’t have a ring, hell, I don’t even know if I’m going to have a home when I get back stateside.” The words poured out in a rush, but the emotion in his tone was palpable. This wasn’t just a wartime distraction to him. “All I know is that if I don’t tie you to me, if I don’t make every effort to keep you near, I’ll regret it forever doll.” Bradley’s eyes held nothing but sincerity, truth seeping from every pore as he held you, his big hands pressing you to him.

A deep sigh left your lips, the silence thundering in Bradley’s ears as he waited. You glanced up at him, your eyes misty with tears. “If I say yes,” you began, swallowing thickly. “If I say yes Bradley, you don’t get to leave because this is hard. I would be your wife, and you my husband. We do this together or not at all.” Tears had begun falling and you didn’t know if this was an accumulation of emotion from finally having him close or if it was fear. Fear of being wed and left in a heartbeat.

“Rosie, I would find the Chaplain now if it meant that I could spend the rest of my life with you. I would march to the Pacific now to end this war if it meant I could marry you faster. I fought for us just as much as I fought for my country and my mama would come down from Heaven like a shot if I even so much as thought about leaving you behind.” Bradley had ducked his head down, holding your teary eyes with his own. In the growing darkness, you could barely make out the ring of his honey-coloured iris, but you knew that he meant what he said.

How could he not?

“So, doll. What do ya say, hmm? Feel like being Mrs. Rosie Bradshaw?” The usual humor in his tone returned when he saw the meaning behind his words sink in. You understood him and trusted him deeply, after all he’d come back, hadn’t he? In what world would he do all of this and not mean it, not swear by it? Bradley had taken a step to close the distance between you both for the rest of time, pulled his heart out of his chest and held it out to you.

You met him halfway. “I’ve certainly been called worse, Mr. Bradshaw,” you teased gently, as you toyed with the collar of his jacket. “What makes you think I’ll come running when you call that name?”

“Because I’ll come running if you promise to call me that everyday, Rosie doll.” A giggle broke loose from your chest and the matching smile seemed to split your face in two as you watched Bradley’s face light up once he heard your reaction to yet another sweet name he could drop. “You never did answer my question, doll. Are you gonna leave me standing out in the cold like some sort o’ schmuck or are you gonna let me in to get all the good lovin’ my weary bones need?”

You slapped his chest, cheeks burning under his attention. “My mother raised me to never let a man starve nor grow cold, therefore I believe I ought to marry you, dearest. How else am I to go on living when I have a very handsome sailor practically begging for my hand?” You were still smiling broadly and as you watched your words get processed.

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Bradley let out a whoop of joy, grabbing you suddenly before picking you up and twirling you around the yard. “Well dammit all! Rosie said yes!”

Cheers broke out from around the hospital. Nurses and the G.I.s were clapping and whistling in celebration that only got louder when you brought your hands to his face and kissed him so hard you could feel your lips bruise from trying to pour every ounce of feeling into it. “God, I love you,” you mumbled against his lips.

Setting you back on your feet, Bradley dipped you over a strong arm, bringing you into another sweet kiss that had you wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself as close as you could to his chest. “So,” Bradley mumbled. “When I find my mama’s ring, it’s yours. She would have loved you, Rosie. My pop too.”

You leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. “I’m certain that they’re very proud of you, Bradley.” The softness of your tone combined with the sincerity filling every word was a shot straight to his heart. Tears sprouted in his eyes and Bradley brought you back up, hugging you tightly.

“I really lucked out, didn’t I? Meeting the most perfect girl this side of the Atlantic.”

A week later, you married Bradley William Edward Bradshaw in a simple ceremony at a small chapel outside London. His mother’s simple diamond and gold ring had slipped into your finger on the voyage across the English Channel while you had been staring out at the ocean around you.

You had scarcely noticed it at first, but when your eyes fell upon it for the first time, you swore that your heart had nearly fallen into your shoes at the sight. Bradley had laughed at your reaction, pulling you close and wrapping you in his arms for the remainder of the journey, all the while watching you trail your eyes over your hand time and time again.

It was all he could do not to press a kiss to your left hand every time he saw the ring catch the light, which was often, especially by lantern and lamp light.

Needless to say, the pair of you were very happy, and while Bradley had been tapped for deployment into the Pacific theater, his ship had only just made port somewhere in Spain before the US detonation of their super weapons in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Japanese emperor had surrendered almost at once and from your position in London, you couldn’t blame them. You had always hated the unnecessary violence, the casualties just because and this was no different. The innocent civilians hadn’t needed to die in such a way as they had, though you couldn’t see a way of changing the course of the war.

But Bradley was safe and on his way home to you. In the end, you couldn’t help those affected by the tragedy any more than you had during the war in Europe. You would be trying to wrap a wound made by a cannonball with a tiny sliver of fabric, so you set about waiting for him to come back to you.

Now though, you needn’t worry as much. You were Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw and he had made many a promise yet never broken a single one. So the mere sight of his form on the dock eased it all.

Today started the rest of your life.

We got eight children now growing old

Five sons and three daughters

She and I went on the run

Don't care about religion

I'm gonna marry the woman I love

Down by the Wexford border

She was Nancy Mulligan

And I was William Sheeran

She took my name and then we were one

Down by the Wexford border

===

A/N: So, I hope your heart has a big ass cavity in it and that you enjoyed the cotton candy level of fluff that I just threw at you! Big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 for being the best beta reader ever and @sarahsmi13s, I’m sorry for making you sob when I was sharing snippets

Read Roo and Rosie’s Christmas fic here!

Tagging: @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl @roosterforme @@eli2447 @nobody7102 @gigisimsonmars @dcyllom @bobgasm @multifandomlover4life @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls

#fern writes #Ring Around My Rosie #wwii au #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #American Sailor Bradley X English Nurse reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader

254 notes · View notes

peakbys · 8 months

Text

TAILORED

Pairing(s): Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader, Luca Changretta x Wife!Reader Summary: Your little double life starts to unravel when your husband shows up to avenge his father. Request: Yes. Sorta. → @alana000 requested the reader in a love triangle between Tommy and Luca, I ended up combining that with my idea for Tommy's poll result and my brain kind of just ran away with it. So, it may not be exactly what was requested but I hope it's enjoyable regardless. 😅 Warnings: Long post, cheating, tension, mentions of arranged marriages, poor Italian, friends to lovers to enemies (if you want to interpret it that way, ending is left as it is.) Eye contact (for the gif?) Note: This is hard to wrap up in a one-shot, so I'm sorry if the ending is less than ideal. Still, I've been working on this thing for weeks so I hope you all enjoy.

You had just wanted to ride horses.

Of course, life was never so simple, yet it really didn’t need to be as complicated as it was currently. You had left America feeling uncertain, but excited. You wrote back home whenever you could, especially once you managed to make a bit of a name for yourself in horse racing. Really, you wanted to move onto training, yet you knew you could race those horses too. It was extra money, of course, but something you earned on your own. It wasn’t passed down from your family, your husband’s family. Though, in hindsight, you had to wonder if this really was the place you were going to end up all along.

When you had made a bit of a reputation, it brought the attention of some people that operated in a way you were all too familiar with. Crime was in your family, and it was certainly in the one you married into. It didn’t take long to figure out what was being asked of you when you were asked to take the fall sometimes. Horses lost races, yet that didn’t mean that you couldn’t benefit. At least, that was how it had been explained to you back when your pride was too stubborn to accept that you’d participate in fixed races.

Yet, the opportunities got harder to turn down after a while.

Your involvement with the Peaky Blinders was something you left out of your letters outside of vague gesturing toward ‘buyers’ and ‘bosses.’

Tommy Shelby was definitely a person you didn’t write back home about, as much as he was a very common face in your life over the last couple of years. In a strange way, Tommy had a demeanor that was overly familiar too. You had associated it with controlled movements, sharp grins and the chewing of a toothpick. With him, it was a neutral expression and a stare that felt like he was looking through you at points. Yet, both your husband and Tommy had the same commanding air that pulled your attention to them as soon as they stepped into a room.

Outside of the wounded pride that came from losing a race you were certain you could win, that alone had almost been enough to call off working with him. You had more than enough of that back in America, and you didn’t want it here for however long you were planning on staying.

Though, Tommy proved up to your expectations in that he was very hard to ignore.

It had started off friendly enough–professional, despite the nature of what you were doing. More races won, a few lost with a wad of cash tossed into your lap with a vaguely smug look also tossed your way. It was profitable, so it was easy to stick with. Tommy brought horses to you, sometimes, too. Beautiful creatures. If there was something that easily bonded you to Tommy, it was the horses. The conversations got easier and more frequent. Longer, too. You could remember the mild surprise that crossed your expression when he asked about something more personal than the horses and the races.

That was what had you both sitting outside your little ranch home that you were living out of currently, talking about your family, America. Your late brother, especially, given that he had passed in the war and Tommy revealed that he had fought as well. Your brother had joined in hopes that maybe it would be something noble–something that wasn’t crime and making his living from getting involved with the families in New York. Dying in a trench so far from the people who loved and knew him didn’t seem very noble in your mind, especially with the memory of how your mother wailed when she got the news.

Yet, you got a sense of understanding from Tommy that you hadn’t expected to find. It opened the door to some…very troubling feelings.

You had initially tried to dismiss them as the similarities with your husband causing you to feel homesick, but that really wasn’t the case and you knew early on that you were lying to yourself about that. Given that the majority of letters that you wrote back home were to your mother-in-law, outside of the odd one you got directly from your husband when it seemed like he had the time, it was hard to ignore the growing distance that had festered. It had lingered in the background before you left America, and it only grew once the physical distance was there.

Still, you had been quick to state that you were a married woman when it felt like Tommy was catching on to your conflict. Didn’t change much, however–it was a weakening defense and you both knew that.

It resulted in a moment of weakness that haunted you, one that had your loneliness and conflicting emotions taking control. When it came to money, you knew things could get rough. In the back of your mind, you knew there could be some volatile tempers. Yet, you figured some people might not take that out on the riders.

A man cornering you in the stable one night proved you wrong about that, however. Your feet barely scraping against the stable floor, his hands wrapped around your throat while you tried to talk him down through what little space he gave your windpipe. Between the pressure on your neck and the tightness in your chest from your lungs begging for more air, Tommy’s arrival was lost on you until the man released his hands from around your neck.

You could remember the way you crumpled onto the ground, coughing harshly and gasping in air. You had registered the threats uttered and the shine of Tommy’s pistol, yet it wasn’t until he helped pull you to your feet that reality had come back around to you.

–

“Come on. Sit over here.”

You were used to his usual calm, straightforward approach to most things, yet at the moment it seemed at least vaguely caring. It was hard to tell with Tommy, yet you didn’t have the energy to really dig too deeply into that. As much as your pride wanted you to hold your head up and shake off the guiding hand on your arm, you were focused on trying to still the racing of your heart and ease the tightness in your chest.

“He really wasn’t here to talk,” you commented once you were sitting down in a chair, holding a hand to your neck still. “I should’ve known better.”

“Don’t think it would’ve stopped him any,” Tommy replied, “Least I’m not down a good rider.”

“I appreciate the concern,” you commented around a bitter huff, though the touch of amusement in his gaze settled that feeling easily enough.

“I was comin’ by to give you this, anyway,” Tommy continued after pulling up a chair and passing over your cut of the winnings from the race. “Just in time, too.”

You nodded lightly, carding lightly through the cash as you counted quickly in your head. Something you had always done since you started working for him–suspicious at first, more like a force of habit now. In the current moment, however, it was more like an excuse to not have to look at him while every swallow and movement of your head reminded you of the forming bruises that you’d have to cover for the next while.

It had never been in you to enjoy being rescued, yet you certainly knew that could have been worse if he didn’t show up when he did. You could feel a ‘thank you’ forming on the tip of your tongue the more you thought on it, though the feeling of his fingers under your jaw had you stilling. He tilted your head up somewhat, the action pulling a small wince from you as he examined the marks on your neck.

Your gaze remained locked on his face as he did so and even after he shifted his hand to let you lower your head again. The tight feeling in your gut cropped up again, a familiar sensation when you looked at Tommy these days. A fluttering feeling that was both familiar and unfamiliar in a sense. Something that you had talked yourself into feeling over time with your husband, yet with Tommy it had formed on its own.

It scared a part of you, yet you found yourself unable to pull away. Especially when you felt his hand shift along the back of your neck, a few seconds of hesitation and a sinking feeling until his mouth pressed against your own.

If it had been you who leaned in to kiss him or if he crossed that line himself, you didn’t know. Yet, you found yourself returning it all the same, a hand coming up to cup the side of his face. You lost track of reality for a few moments–it was just you and Tommy, his lips, his tongue. His hands on your shoulders, waist, lower back. The excitement about the kiss made your gut twist, heat in your face. There was relief in there, too.

Finally, you felt like someone wanted you. You weren’t an obligation, or worse a charity case. Your first kiss hadn’t been forced, yet it felt more like it was something you should do. To prove a point, an intention. It wasn’t like this with your husband.

That thought hit hard, sinking into you like a heavy stone just as you could feel both your own and Tommy’s hands venturing further. You were married–and kissing your boss in the stable of a racetrack while your husband was an ocean away.

Shame burned hot in your gut as you pushed Tommy back, standing quickly to put some distance between the two of you. The look he shot you was calm, as if he expected this. Your marriage wasn’t a secret, he knew what he was doing too.

“I…shouldn’t have done that,” you said after a few moments, tucking your earnings into a pocket. “Thank you for the help, Mr. Shelby. Goodnight.”

–

Naturally, you didn’t talk to him much after. You wanted to, the thoughts tumbling around in your head, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to. The situation didn’t stop you from feeling relieved about his attention shifting away from the races after a while, however. You still raced, listened to the directions that would come in about certain horses and races. Things were normal, stable, and it was like you could just forget what happened. Things were calm. That was, until word got back to America that Sabini was having issues in London. It was a bit of a surprise to you that you weren’t asked to get involved. At the time, that is.

It was something that was brought up in some of the letters–more of a warning at first, just keeping you informed in case you did need to make a move in the name of your husband’s family. You usually weren’t set to do those things, however, so you didn’t expect much outside of a possible trip to London to see what information you could get from the Italians there.

That was, until your brother-in-law was killed. Things were a bit of a blur after that.

Everything had escalated well beyond anything you had imagined and it seemed unavoidable how the two sides of your life were now overlapping.

It was what had you pacing around the lavish room that you had been told to move to. It was very similar to the one that you had stayed in when you had joined your husband for a family wedding. The very event that put the idea of moving away from America for a couple years to begin with.

A maid had been in and out over the last couple of hours, leaving you food and drink when you asked but otherwise gave you a polite distance. You appreciated that, despite the fact that no amount of food or tea could settle your nerves.

You hadn’t unpacked, your little suitcase sitting by the door. It would look a little odd, you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

All you could do was wait, wondering how all of this would play out. The letter had been vague, just the address that he said he’d be staying at and that you should be moved there by the current date. It didn’t do anything to reassure you, obviously. A part of you just wanted to know. Another part of you just wanted to see him–as if seeing your husband would clear all the muck from your head and it would be easier to think.

So, naturally, you were jumpy by the time you heard the door open. The maid always knocked, so it was clear who it was.

Luca hadn’t changed much in the three years you had been away, dressed in his typical dark attire. Expensive, tailor-made and you knew how much he seemed to care about his appearance. That had initially struck you as pompous when you had first met him, yet you had quickly grown used to how connected his family was and it seemed to be more so about bragging about his family’s reputation. You knew it pleased him when you humored the expensive clothing and gifts–a little less common as the years passed, you had noted.

At the moment, you couldn’t help but feel almost…underdressed. A number of things had changed, in more ways than one. You still didn’t know how you felt about the situation or what you even felt in the moment you saw him again.

Regardless, you worked up a somewhat tight grin and approached him, Luca removing his hat to place on the desk nearby.

The rings on his fingers were cold as he cupped your face, pulling you in to press a lingering kiss to your mouth. Your hands came up to rest on his wrists, finding an odd sense of comfort in the familiarity of it. Yet, it was lacking now. You knew that. The memories of Tommy that cropped up made that sharp edge of shame known in your gut, yet you still managed to keep the small grin on your face as Luca pulled back.

“Carissima,” he said, hands still cradling your face as he ran his thumbs along your cheeks, “Non sei invecchiato di un giorno.”

“Nemmeno tu,” you replied, the words heavy and cumbersome on your tongue. Luckily, Luca just grinned, dropping his hands to wag a light-hearted finger at you.

“You promised me you’d still practice your Italian.”

“I don’t get to use it often,” you replied, “Not a lot of Italian speakers around.”

“Should’a listened to me about movin’ to London,” Luca commented, “Be with the family. Though…well, maybe it was good you didn’t.”

“Right…”

You let out a soft exhale through your nose, watching as he circled around the desk slowly as if he was looking for something. The atmosphere shifted as soon as the topic was brought up, your gaze following his movements as you tried to gather together something to say about it all. Killed his brother, his father, and you weren’t naive enough to believe that he was there to drag you back to America. Luca glanced back up at you, almost studying you for a moment.

“Ma’s told me a few things she’s learned about you, too,” Luca stated, a cold sweat breaking out across the back of your neck as your heart jumped.

Still, you held his gaze, expression impassive. It didn’t seem likely that she would know about what happened while you were staying overseas, yet it didn’t ease the feeling like you were looking down the barrel of a gun.

“I told her quite a bit in my letters–you, too. In the ones you read, at least,” you replied, crossing your arms as he moved to lean against the front of the desk.

“Left out some details,” Luca said, “How you’re racin’ horses in the tracks managed by the Peaky Blinders.”

“It’s hard not to if you’re looking to fix races,” you said with a nod, feeling that tight not in your stomach loosen somewhat. “I didn’t make it a habit to dip my hand in that. When your horses get a reputation, there’s some interest. I might have been approached, but I can’t say I’ve had any personal interactions with them.”

“No Tommy Shelby?”

“Not personally,” you lied, “I know of him.”

He met your gaze without a reply for a few moments, arms crossed in a way that almost mirrored your own. A part of you wondered why you were protecting Tommy–of course, you didn’t want Luca to know of certain details, but clearly you didn’t swear any loyalty to him or his gang. Yet, you did so anyway. Luca eventually nodded lightly, pressing his lips together in thought for a moment before he stood up to approach you once again.

“I was hopin’ you might have some information that might make this easier, but you’re just racin’ horses.”

You could almost hear a touch of something to his tone, yet it didn’t seem he was willing to make that clear or say what he was thinking. It didn’t sit all that nice, but you figured if he was suspicious of you, you would’ve known. (You hoped.) Still, you gave him what you hoped was a convincing enough apologetic smile as you reached out to rest your hand on his cheek.

“I know what you’re here to do. I wish I could give you more information than that,” you said, “As I said when I left, I didn’t want any involvement in that business and it’s been kept that way. If I had known…”

“I wouldn’t want you catchin’ a bullet anyway,” Luca replied, “Though, you remember anythin’ or might be leavin’ anythin’ out…”

“I’ll tell you,” you said with a small grin, “I wouldn’t want you catching a bullet.”

“They can try,” he stated before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “Quicker this is done, quicker we can get back home.”

You hummed in response, not quite agreement. As much as you were uncertain about the outcome of all of this, you had a sinking feeling that it wouldn’t be dealt with so quickly.

*****

As much as you knew you shouldn’t be out by yourself, especially with the fact that this vendetta business could escalate at any moment, you didn’t think too much of it.

There was an issue with one of your horses back where you were staying, and you knew suddenly disappearing would look odd to anybody who was paying attention. You were on edge and alert, yet you figured it would be best to look as if things were business as usual. Family was visiting, you were staying in a hotel.

Yet, you couldn’t help but notice the quietness of the home. If there was an issue, you figured there would be a few different people running around. You frowned as you pulled up to the property, noticing that the stable was empty. You clenched your hands around the steering wheel of the car, ready to pull out at a moments notice. Though, the familiar figure standing outside the home, near the very chairs you had sat in when you chatted over the years.

You debated leaving, but thought better of it. While it seemed unlikely that he didn’t know the people he was up against, you didn’t want to appear too suspicious if he hadn’t pieced together your involvement.

Regardless, your approach was guarded, eyeing Tommy with a questioning gaze as he moved to step down from the porch.

“Long time since I’ve seen you last,” you greeted, “...It’s very quiet out here for the emergency I was told to come see.”

“Right…” Tommy replied, his expression unreadable as he approached you. “I had to get your attention somehow. Someone here said you are staying elsewhere for a few days.”

“Family’s in the country for a while,” you replied casually enough, “I didn’t want to drive back and forth.”

“Family. Well, I guess you really should see this, then,” Tommy stated, finally pulling a hand out of one of his coat pockets.

He extended what looked like a photo, folded at a particular edge. You paused for a moment, looking into his impassive stare before you reached out to take it.

Unfolding it completely, you were greeted with a wedding photo filled with familiar faces. The family wedding from a couple years ago, a seemingly routine celebration for the most part at the time. For the Changrettas, at least. Of course, standing just along the folded crease was you standing next to Luca, a faint smile on your face with your arm interlocked with his own. You had only seen the photo once when you had returned to New York after the wedding, yet it really turned out to be a terrible reminder that you weren’t as well hidden as you thought sometimes.

“I did tell you I was married,” you stated, finally glancing up to meet Tommy’s gaze, “Though, with what your family’s done, I guess this really changes quite a few contexts.”

“My family…” he repeated, you catching a glimpse in his expression that you never really saw. It was sharp, angry. It had you propping a foot back in case you needed to step away from him as he stepped a little closer to you. “Your family…killed me wife and my brother.”

“Yes. You killed my husband’s father and brother. Spared his mother, which was a mistake. If you’re here to kill me to think you’ll get a leg up in this, I wouldn’t. Luca’s old fashioned–wants this done by tradition. As I’m sure you know. Yet, you kill me, I can’t say he’ll not just put a bullet in your head on principle. Considering you had to lure me out here, you have no idea where he is, right?”

He didn’t say anything, lingering close as you looked up at him. As much as you knew he could kill you where you stood–there was enough spilled blood on his side to warrant it. Yet, there was that part of you that was fond of him. Felt something–might not have been deep or fully developed. It might never be. Yet, you knew you had a bit of a leverage here. You knew how to survive–keep your head down, do things for the sake of connecting your family, and taking advantage of opportunities when they presented themselves.

“I like you, and I didn’t come to this country with the intention of getting wrapped up in a vendetta between you and my husband’s family,” you continued, “So, I’ll say this. I’m not here to be your enemy, yet I will do whatever I need to in order to get out of this alive. Luca, on the other hand, knows how to hate and will not stop until one of you is dead.”

“I don’t need a lecture on the vendetta,” Tommy stated, “If you have no involvement, you’re a citizen in my eyes. I would be very careful about crossing that line.”

“I’d be careful about crossing Luca Changretta,” you replied, “As it stands, I don’t know enough about you to give him anything of value and I have no obligation to tell you anything more about him. Give me a chance to get out of this alive, and I may change my stance on the latter.”

“You’d sell out your own husband, eh?” Tommy asked, tilting his head somewhat as you continued to meet his gaze.

“Arranged marriages can be tricky.”

“I can’t make any promises, Mrs. Changretta.”

“Then I guess we’ll see how this all plays out, Mr. Shelby.”

#peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #luca changretta x reader

192 notes · View notes

shayyprasad · 6 months

Text

waiting | peter parker

summary: you're trying to be paitent with him, the war with thanos can't possibly have been easy to deal with, much less the trauma. you've given peter all you have, but it's gotten too much.

angst? mentions of past ed, mentions of purging, mentions of sex (like one), cursing a bit, mean petey, panic attck kinda

after the war with thanos, peter had grown distant. and you didn't blame him, you figured that he was giving himself a break, he was taking time to heal. and you understood that, peter was grieving.

you always tried to be there for him, but he made it hard sometimes.

never did you hold it against him.

peter had lost his mentor, his teammates, and beyond that- his family. you didn't expect him to move on, it was a lot at once, even more so with the blip. he was still adjusting (you were too, but this was different).

he spent nights on the couch, outside who-knows-where, and sometimes... sometimes he would drink. you took note of the fact he tried not to do it around you.

but some nights he would come home late, stenched in the strong odor of beer and sweat. peter would be drunk and snappy, and yes, at times it scared you.

not that you'd ever tell peter that.

but his "grieving" grew unhealthy, and who were you to let that slide? he wouldn't eat or drink properly, god knows about his hygene, and he wasn't getting enough sleep. so you made him cooperate, which did result in many arguements, but it did work for the most part. but your relationship, you felt, wouldn't ever be the same.

date nights? what were those?

kissing? nope.

sex? no. never. (not that it was a big deal for you, you could care less about that.)

no hand-holding.

and no cuddles. cuddles. none of those.

peter snapped at you often. he struggled to contain his temper, and easily grew annoyed. it was like even the smallest remark could lead to something big.

"peter, you have to eat. you didn't have breakfast."

"you didn't either."

"that's different. i haven't been skipping my meals."

"why? you've been throwing up instead?"

he watched as your face twisted into disbelief and pain. but you pushed it away, dead-set on getting peter to eat.

"this isn't healthy, love."

"neither is you getting on the scale a hundred times a day."

you had been checking your weight more frequently again, part of the reason being the fact that you were scared peter didn't love you anymore because you were getting fat. but it wasn't unhealthy.

you recognized the problem. you told your therapist, stopping it from becoming something bad.

but peter wouldn't know that. he wouldn't know anything.

"please don't go there," you whispered quietly, "i just want you to be happy, okay? and healthy." that must've been where he felt like the conversation had ended, so he left. you didn't know what to do anymore. so you cried. because that felt like the only thing you could do right.

(first person)

"i just don't know what to do-"

"you know you have, like, an actual therapist for this, right?" mj asked, raising an eyebrow.

"well, yeah, but she doesn't know peter like you do."

she sighed, locking eyes with me, "y/n, peter's being a dick, and i don't know when he'll see that you aren't somebody for him to take his anger out onto. you shouldn't be taken for granted."

"mj, it's not like that. he's just-"

"what? grieving? is that what you've been telling yourself? babes, this isn't even that anymore. it's unhealthy. not just for him, but for you. yeah, he lost people. i did, too. my mom died, y/n, she died. and i wasn't in that hospital with her while she was on her deathbed. why? because of the fucking blip. but i've moved on. everyone has, because where will moping around like an alcohol addict get you?

"know what? i'll answer that for you. nowhere. it'll get you nowhere. i get it, you want to be there for him-"

"no! you don't get it! i love him! i-i need... i need to be there for him," my sentence broke into quiet sobs, and mj pulled my close to her, rubbing my back.

"i know, i know," she cooed. soon enough, my crying ceased, and i pulled away with red eyes.

"what do i do, then? just leave him? he doesn't have anyone."

"talk to him. maybe he'll change."

"and if he doesn't?"

mj gave me a look, because i already knew the answer. yes, in a way she was right. it was an unhealthy, toxic relationship. peter was pulling me down, and he was breaking off a piece of my heart every passing day.

thinking about not being with him, left me with a dull ache, but at the same time, it was a crushing sensation, one that broke me down completely. i couldn't imagine a life without him.

he was my life. he... is my life? was it too late to be speaking in the present tense?

maybe mj was right. maybe i needed to talk to him.

but i was scared. i was really, really scared. what if...? what if it ended horribly? and i never saw him again?

what if i left him, and no one was there for peter... and he'd- he'd die? because he wasn't sleeping right? or eating enough? or staying hydrated?

what if he needed someone to help patch him up? but no one was there? would he simply bleed out?

my heart sped faster at the thought, and my breath came out ragged.

"woah, hey, breathe."

i pushed away any and all thoughts of him, focusing on inhaling and exhaling, trying to get my heartbeat to normal.

(peter's pov)

"peter!" y/n chirped, a grin on her face. i sighed, already feeling a migraine come on. i didn't want to talk. i wanted to sleep, or... i don't know. just not talk.

"you know that book i've been reading? it's really good, by the way, i think you'd really like it. there's this boy who reminds me of you," she wiggled her eyebrows, "he's like, super scared of spiders. which is ironic."

i tried to tune her out, but her voice was loud. really loud. my head was blaring, and i kind of wanted to puke.

stop talking. please.

"-coming here! they've got a convention and everything? can you believe it? and, get this, i got us both freaking tickets! we can, like, have a date or something. it's from 2:00-6:00, so we can get food at this fancy new diner that just opened up-"

has y/n always been this annoying? there's no way. if i'd known before, i doubt i would've started this.

i gritted my teeth, ready to pull all of my hair out. how much would it take for her to fuck off?

"oh my god," i muttered, completely done and exasperated. "do you ever consider carrying around a plant for all the oxygen you waste everyday?"

i watched her smile drop instantly, satisfied. for once, it felt good to hurt someone. i was so goddamn tired of always helping everyone. this was barely a tenth of how i felt. she blinked rapidly, and i went back to the web shooter.

damn thing just wouldn't-

"can we talk?" i inhaled sharply.

"what, y/n? what? what could you possibly have to say that you haven't already said yet?"

"i-i, um, i-"

"is that all you know how to say?"

"no, i'm sorry. no, wait, no i'm not. you're the one being a dick. which is precisely why i wanted to talk."

"jeez. what do you want me to say?"

"you don't have to say anything. not yet. can you- can you just listen?"

i didn't answer, going back to tinkering. if this would make her feel better, then whatever.

"i just... i feel like we aren't the same. you aren't, at least. and maybe i've changed too, i don't know. i can't really dicate that for myself, that wouldn't be fair," she laughed, and i could practically feel her nervousness. y/n's heartbeat was loud, too, so loud that it felt like it was banging the in the back of my head. i could smell the sweat on her hands, too.

what did she possibly have to say that was freaking her out like this?

"i love you, peter. i haven't stopped."

"...okay?"

"i'm trying to say that i want things to go back to normal. i don't know if that's even possible, but i know we can try. because i'm willing to make things work, and give you another chance."

i spun around, narrowing my eyes at her. ""i'm sorry, 'another chance'?"

"um... yeah?" y/n said, and i could tell she was getting less confident.

"why the absolute, and i cannot stress this enough, the fuck would i need another chance?"

"do you hear yourself? the way you're speaking to me? how- how did we go from that... to this? my gosh, you used to be the sweetest boy ever. you apologized for things that weren't even your fault, and you said 'thank you' for things you didn't need to say to. what happened to that?"

"spider-man happened. and why are you making me sound like the bad guy? i save lives because i can, out of my free will."

"i miss you," she whispered. "i miss my peter. this isn't- you aren't-"

"aren't what? go on. because i-"

"shut up. shut the fuck up and let me talk. for once in your life, listen," i snapped my mouth shut, waiting, and shocked.

"a memory. a faded picture. a failed potential. because that's all we are now, right? why fight for something i know will go nowhere? why fight for someone who can't fight for me back? you know what i've realized?

"i've realized there is so much more to the world than this, than you. i realized how much love i could give to the world and how stupid i was for only giving that love to you when you didn't even deserve it.

"this is what i feared the most. this moment right here. the transition between having something and having nothing but regret. and it's happening right now, right in front of my eyes, and there's nothing i can even do about it.

but, peter, this is for me. this is so i can grow and let go. because now i know that you won't change. if this is the way that it's going to go now, i want no part of it."

she was crying now, and i scoffed. "what the hell are you even saying? what do you mean?"

"what i mean is, i'm going to stop watering a dead flower, expecting it to grow again. it's over. this is over."

i didn't know what to say, so i gaped at her. what did she mean "over"? y/n wasn't going to just leave, i knew she didn't have that in her.

"so that's it? because once i get out of that door, what we once had will perish. i'm afraid i'm not ready for that yet. maybe i never will be."

"fine, then. leave. you'll be back anyways," i shrugged, and she sighed, shaking her head.

so i let her. i let her leave.

and then i waited for her to come back.

i waited a long time.

i still am.

that's when i realized how she felt.

she'd been waiting, too.

the only difference was that we'd switched roles.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x you #angst #peter parker x reader #reader discretion advised

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catt-leya · 1 year

Text

Fucking Brat || Rick Grimes 18+

This one was requested by an anon and I think it's not my best work but anyways I'm wishing you a lot of fun hihi 💗

Summary: Rick and you aren't going along well because you can't accept him as your leader. Until you catch him masturbating and he shows you what you'll have to do to get fucked by him.

Trigger: throat fucking, degrading, humiliation, dirty talk, masturbation and my usual smutty stuff

The sun burns pleasantly on your skin as you sit on the grass in front of the prison and let yourself fall onto your back.

It's been a long time since you've had a moment to yourself since you and your people joined the group in this prison.

It's not that it's a bad place and you're forced to work hard, but in the world you live in now, hard work is inevitable. Everyone has to do their part and you too have your hands full most of the time.

That's why you enjoy every little free moment you can get, especially now when no one else is in your immediate vicinity either.

For a long time you were outside with your people and it was important to always have someone around to protect each other, but when Rick found you a few weeks ago, a lot of things changed.

Rick.

The man who's been acting like the man in charge around here and has driven you up the wall more than once.

You understand the position he holds with the people who have lived here for some time, but just because he gives them orders and they are obeyed doesn't mean you will immediately comply either. When you lived in the forest, they were your people and they still are.

At least they are to you.

During the first few weeks, your people still asked your opinion when Rick ordered something, but the more time has passed, the less frequent the visits have become and you realize that they have accepted Rick as their leader.

That butthead.

The more they all defer to him and his bullshit speeches, the more you kick around and usually do the exact opposite of what Rick asks.

You'll do almost anything to get on his nerves while maintaining your pride.

It's gorgeous to see how close you can get Rick to the brink of insanity and sometimes blow a few fuses on him. The good thing is that while Rick is an ass, he's certainly not a wife beater. That's why you're not afraid to let him go nuts and didn't even flinch the one time he rammed his fist into the wall next to you.

Sure, Rick is taller and wider than you, but you're certainly not afraid of him.

Even as a shadow slips in front of the sun that was warm on your skin, you don't flinch.

Instead, you open your eyes, blinking, and immediately roll them when you see Rick standing in front of you.

Rick clenches his teeth tightly as you arrogantly raise your eyebrows and grumble, "You're standing in my sun, asshole."

Oh God, those words alone make his body shake with tension.

He hates how you lie on the grass in front of him and look up, only to make it sound like you're superior to him anyway.

He hates how you never do what he asks of you and always put him to the test.

He hates how fucking hot you look in that tight top, which shows off your breasts ridiculously well as you sit up and shoo him aside with your hand to get back to the sun that's now warming his own back.

With anyone else, he'd take a step back now, but with you, he only builds himself up more, completely blocking out the sun.

You stroke your hair on your face and he notices how he starts to stare, but that's when you open your mouth and no matter what you're going to say now, every bit of attraction to you is going to suck out of his bones.

Yeah, you're hot, but you don't know when to shut up, "Are you just standing here to bug me now, or do you have something specific you want to tell me?"

You watch him push his chin up a little and sigh out loud. Especially with you, he always lets the leader hang out and plays damn often with his physical superiority over you.

Yes, he's a good bit taller, and yes, he has a natural aura that makes him seem competent, which makes people listen to him when he talks, but that doesn't mean you'd ever defer to him.

You can hold your nose just as high as he can. Well, not literally, but metaphorically.

Rick looks at you from narrowed eyes, "If you did what I wanted you to do, we wouldn't be having this conversation at all."

You know exactly what he means, but bat your eyelashes innocently, "You gave me an order? I didn't catch that at all. Usually, in your presence, I only hear such a low and penetrating whirring. Hmmm, that must have been it."

You drop back onto your back, "But don't worry, my ears are otherwise perfectly fine, so it must be you."

You can literally feel Rick's body vibrating with anger and can't suppress a grin.

Rick squeezes his fists so tight his knuckles are sticking out white and he growls, "You do what I tell you."

"Nope," you let the "p" pop and know he's about to lose it, so you stretch out on the grass and calmly say, "I'll ride with Daryl."

Still Rick is shielding the sun and you feel like you won't get much of the slowly setting sun soon.

It's disturbingly quiet for a moment and you look to his tall stature.

He looks like he's having to decide whether to jump down your throat or rather throw you to the walkers as he says creepily quietly, "You're going to climb that damn tower and do the shift I assigned you to."

You'd never admit it out loud, but a slight chill coats your arms at the pitch of his voice and you clear your throat quietly, "You know, maybe I'd consider going up on the tower, except I also know you have absolutely nothing to do today and might as well take over while I go off with Daryl."

Rick lets his gaze slide over your small body, wondering if he'd be quick enough to grab you and throw you over his shoulder to take you to the lookout tower single-handedly.

It's clear you'd be kicking around and calling him the nastiest names, but that way you'd finally do your job and submit.

Annoyed, he puts his hands on his hips, "I've got enough on my plate and arguing with you is just taking up unnecessary time. YOUR job is the lookout tower, not mine."

Snottily you reply, "Because YOU assigned me."

He groans and puts his head back because, unfortunately, that takes your mind off things for a moment.

Rick has a nice neck.

In fact, he's really gorgeous in general, and you'd be lying if you said your little caboodle didn't turn you on a little.

You watch him as he growls, struggling for composure, "Just do it and don't act like a fucking brat."

Your eyebrows go up and he stares at you again with his blue eyes, "I have to take care of my people here, after all, and that means everyone has their jobs to do to keep us safe."

You clench your teeth and slowly straighten up to at least not look quite so small next to him, "Your people? It's MY group. MY family and you're acting like an asshole."

He takes a step toward you so you can feel his breath on your cheek as he leans down to you and hisses, "You lost them when you stepped through the gate. They've accepted that everything works when there's a chain of command and that's how you can ensure everything goes right. So get used to it already."

You jerk your head around and stare at him with a deadly stare.

Normally you're never at a loss for words, but right now, you don't know what to say other than "Son of a bitch" and you turn around to look for Daryl.

You're not going to do shit and you're certainly not going to stand on the lookout tower.

Rick watches you stomp away.

Your hips swing from right to left and he can't stop staring at your ass. At least this way he doesn't have to think about how good you smelled when he was just this close to you.

Shit, he's sure you'll never go to that lookout tower and is actually forced to take your shift now, even though he promised Beth he'd practice shooting with her. But then she'll have to wait for tomorrow, because he's now stomping off to the tower in his turn, and when he gets to the top, he slams the door.

He doesn't care at all that the door swings open a little crack again in the process, and he sits down furiously on the chair that is supposed to make the shifts more comfortable.

With his arms crossed, he sits there and stares out into the forest.

Why the hell can't you just realize that you have to listen to him?

You're acting like a fucking brat and shit, he's dying to put you in your place.

He doesn't even notice as he loosens his arms at the thought and reaches over his pants for his hardening cock.

He wants you to crawl before him and finally do what he wants you to do.

He reaches harder for his cock.

He wants you to look up at him with your big eyes and ask him if there's anything else you can do for him.

Rick winces briefly as he realizes what he's doing with his hand and who he's thinking about.

But instead of stopping, he curses harshly and tugs at the belt of his pants.

The thought of you kneeling in front of him with your mouth open, begging for him to fuck your mouth, never leaves his mind and he pulls his pants down to his thighs and reaches again for his cock, which is now slapping against his stomach.

Rick moans hoarsely as he runs his hand down his length, thinking of how you would look at him and breathe his name.

Your name slips from his lips as his hand speeds up.

What he doesn't know is that a guilty conscience is starting to get the best of you, because Rick wasn't wrong about the division of labor and that's why you let Daryl know you wouldn't be accompanying him after all.

Instead, you go to the lookout tower where Rick must have taken your shift and even though it goes against the grain, you want to apologize to him.

You're certainly not going to grovel before him and beg for his forgiveness, but you do owe him an honest apology.

So you climb the stairs and see that the door is only ajar.

You frown in confusion when you hear your name.

Actually, he shouldn't have seen you yet, but with Rick, many things are possible, so you shrug and pull open the door to the room.

The door doesn't make a sound and that's why Rick doesn't hear you stop rooted to the spot as he thrusts his hips up, thinking about fucking your pussy.

Again he curses harshly and moans your name as you take a step back and loudly ram the door frame.

Rick flinches and jerks his head around, his hand still wrapped around his cock.

You stare down at his crotch and just can't take your eyes off it.

Fuck, he's big.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier," you barely recognize your own voice and speak to his cock, which you're still staring at.

He should be slumping in shame, but his heart is still beating way too fast and your eyes, completely focused on his cock, are only turning him on more.

He sees you blush and a crazy idea takes shape in his head.

Instead of pulling up his pants and panting at you to get you to go away, he just keeps looking at you and slowly continues to jerk off.

The fact that he doesn't have to imagine you anymore only makes the feeling that much more intense, and he has to pull himself together to keep from groaning out loud when he asks hoarsely, "You wanted to apologize for acting like a brat?"

You barely notice his snooty choice of words and nod silently, no longer trusting your own voice.

Your eyes follow Rick's fist and the urge to touch him grows stronger.

Roughly, he says your name and you can't suppress a soft whimper.

Shit, when did you get so weak?

"Yes?" your voice is, as you expected, way too high to sound normal.

You should leave.

You should turn around and pretend you didn't see anything.

Like you didn't see the best dick in the world.

Like you didn't see Rick jerking off while thinking about you.

You should go.

He runs his thumb over his tip, which is glistening wetly, and growls, "Come here."

Only now do you look him in the face again, and the excitement you see in it makes you tremble, "What?"

The door is only a step away, but you just can't move and he knows it. You could have left by now, but instead you're still there.

Rick lets his eyes wander over your body, then hisses, "Come here and apologize properly."

Your head is screaming to go. It screams to turn around and defy him again, but your body does what it wants.

With soft knees, you walk up to Rick and stop in front of him.

His normally bright eyes, are noticeably darker now that you are standing so close to him and he lets go of his cock.

Immediately your eyes are back on his crotch and he pushes his legs a little further apart, "On your knees."

A thousand thoughts buzz in your head and he sees your hesitation.

Sluggishly, he tilts his head and repeats with dangerous pressure, "You get on your fucking knees now or I'll make you."

He doesn't touch you, but you flinch and fall to your knees in front of him.

With huge eyes you look at him and he can't believe how easily he can direct you.

Usually you fight him off with everything you've got, but right now you're looking at him like you're just waiting to get the next command from him.

And that turns him on so much that he could cum at the slightest touch from you.

Your whole body is electrified and you bend over to reach his cock with your lips, but he's faster and grabs you by the hair.

Just inches from his cock, he yanks you back and that puts some clear thoughts in your head about what you're doing.

Completely overwhelmed, you don't know whether to pull away from him to get away, or try again to get his cock in your mouth and let him cum down your throat.

Do you even have a choice?

You blink frantically, realizing how you're panicking from this unfamiliar submissive you've never known on you before.

Your voice is squeaky as you whine, "Rick, I-" your voice breaks and he mocks you softly, "Use complete sentences."

Oh god it's so humiliating as you actually try to get at his cock again, but his grip is so tight you miss a few inches that make him laugh harshly, "Look at you. Have such a need to suck my cock that you're about to start crying. That's just how I always wanted to see you."

Your voice is low and weak, "Stop talking to me like that."

You squeeze your legs together, realizing how wet you already are.

At that, Rick raises an eyebrow and grins at you, "Oh, it turns you on? If you could just see yourself. Big mouth a minute ago and now all meek and on your knees in front of me, huh?"

You close your eyes and he pulls your hair, "That was a question I want you to answer now."

Shit, shit, shit. You should have gone with Daryl.

Muffled, you mumble, "Yeah."

It turns you on when he talks to you like that, and fuck actually, he always turns you on.

You scrape together the last bit of dignity you have left and look him in the eye, "You were jerking off thinking about me."

The setting sun casts long shadows in the tower, making the silence seem that much more oppressive.

Rick just looks at you and you brace your hands on his thighs to straighten up a bit and are actually a little surprised that he lets you and doesn't reprimand you again.

At the back of your head, he presses you closer to him and murmurs far too softly, "I was thinking about how I was going to break you."

An unusual sound slips from your lips and by then he's already pressing your face to his cock, "Suck."

Willingly, you open your lips and let Rick push you down on his cock.

With your eyes closed you try to relax your throat to get as much of him in your mouth as you can and you hear him moan harshly.

Your mouth is warm and wet and his eyes roll into the back of his head as he pushes the tip against your throat.

Once he's sure you're going to suck him off, he releases the back of your head and crosses his arms behind his head to watch you do it under lowered lashes.

Your small hands cling to his thighs and you keep taking him so deep into your mouth, as if your life depended on your nose bumping against his pubic bone again and again.

His leg muscles tighten and he growls, "That's a decent apology. Plugging your pert mouth is the right thing to do, don't you think?"

Your words make you moan around his cock and you look up at him with tears in your eyes.

He looks down at you as he did before in the meadow, only now you don't have a clever line in store, instead you dig your fingers deeper into his legs and run your tongue over the prominent vein on his cock.

With a jerk, he pushes his hips further toward you and then grabs your hair again to tug you off his cock.

Pathetically, you try to lick him again and at the sight, he hisses, "Fuck."

Your lips are swollen and you realize your throat will be overstimulated tomorrow, but you mumble softly anyway, "Let me keep going."

He sits up a little, "What was that?"

His cock shines wet from your saliva and you try again, "Please, let me keep doing it."

Mockingly, Rick grins at you, "Are you begging to suck my cock right now?"

It almost physically hurts, but you nod and he rewards you with, "Good girl." And pulls you back to your feet, "Show me how wet you are for me."

Rick stares at your pants, but you don't know what he means by that and when you don't respond he sighs, "Take off your pants and show me your cunt."

At the last word you wince, but do what he asks and that you follow his orders makes his eyes glisten with pleasure and when you then also stand half naked in front of him and wait, he can no longer deny himself the comment: "You're pathetic. You already realize that, don't you? Just had to see my cock and gone is any resistance from you."

Your pussy clenches excitedly and that he talks to you like that makes you tremble again.

Never would you ever let someone talk to you like that, but Rick has this innate aura of respect and the more he talks to you like that, the easier it is for you to accept his superiority in that regard.

Shit, you actually enjoy him doing that to you.

You bite your lower lip as he murmurs, "Show me."

Jesus.

Slowly, you spread your legs a little, and you know your thighs are already glistening. It feels so dirty to feel his gaze right there.

You feel so incredibly vulnerable, and you see Rick's cock twitch as you slide a finger through your wetness and hold it out to him so he can see how wet you are for him.

He sees your knees shake and lifts his chin a little, "That's good and now you do exactly what I want you to do and then you'll get what you need from me."

With your heart pounding you nod and he grins dangerously at you and the way he looks at you makes you nervous.

It looks like he's about to pounce on you as he leans in and purrs, "I want to see you vulnerable. Humiliated and pathetic."

Rick wants everything from you.

He wants to break you, and he knows what will be enough humiliation for you.

His tongue darts across his bottom lip, "Hold your cunt open with your hands while I fuck you."

The words rush through your body and he looks at you sharply, "Do you understand or is it just another buzz in that pretty little head of yours?"

"No, I mean yes...I" you get the words stuck in your throat and he tilts his head slightly, "If you play dumb and let go then I will continue to use you to cum in your cunt, but you will not. If you're a good little girl, I'll let you cum on my cock."

You hesitate and he hisses, "Go on, or I'll fuck you and you'll get nothing out of it."

Your hands shake as you frantically climb onto his lap and reach between your legs with your hands.

The smacking sound as you open your lower lips with your hands is so incredibly humiliating that your cheeks grow hot and he laughs mockingly, "Just the prospect of my cock in your cunt makes you so fucking compliant. What did I struggle so hard to get you to do your assigned work when all I had to do was fuck you to make you my whore."

Your mouth is slightly open and you fall forward a bit before he holds you up by your shoulders so you stay upright and he pushes you down on his cock.

You feel his cock against your fingers as it presses into your spread cunt and you groan far too loudly to be considered decent anymore.

Your first reflex would be to release your hands and hold onto Rick, but you dare not let go of your pussy as he puts his hands on your hips and fucks you as promised.

He's big and hard inside you and almost makes you pass out.

Rick is so...good.

He's so fucking good and without warning you lean forward and press your swollen lips to his parted from moaning.

Kissing him is like a drug as he moves you on his cock the way he likes and you are wide open for him.

His voice is rough and husky, "You're inviting me to fuck you."

It's true.

It's humiliating and fucking hot to present yourself to him like this, and your pussy throbs hard on his cock as he continues to take you, growling, "This is my pussy, you understand?"

You breathe weakly, "Yours." And he penetrates you harder and deeper.

Your pussy is so fucking wet that he can barely think straight and slips almost completely out of you every time.

As he feels you clench tighter and tighter around him, he knows you're about to cum and lowers his lips to your neck to suck on it, eliciting a fucking loud moan of his name from you, "Rick...Oh God, I can't hold it in. I..."

He growls, "Beg me and when I'm satisfied, you can cum."

His thrusts get messier and you howl, "Please, please, please. May I cum?"

Rick's cock twitches, "Will you do what I ask of you from now on?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

He laughs, "Always resisting me, but when my cock is in your pathetic cunt, you suddenly become quite compliant, huh?"

The knot in your stomach becomes almost unbearable and you squeeze your eyes tight when he finally says, "Now."

With the first wave, your pussy clenches so hard that you almost crush him, pulling him with you.

Your body tears up and you release your hands to grab Rick's cheeks and turn his head so that you're kissing him hard and desperately.

You swallow his harsh moan as he comes inside you and you frantically ride out your climaxes, getting as much as you can.

Shivering, you collapse on top of him and press your nose into his neck to catch your breath and take in his scent.

Fuck, he smells so good.

Surprisingly gentle, he puts his hands on your back and pulls you closer to him, his cock still lingering inside you.

You're afraid to look him in the face after letting him do this to you, not knowing what's going to happen now.

Slowly Rick's hands slide to your round butt and squeeze lightly, "You're going to do your shift here on the tower, understand?"

Of course he would want you to.

After all, it's been your job and now he can always tease you about begging to cum on his cock as you held your pussy wide open for him like a cheap whore.

Tears well up in your eyes from shame, "Yeah, you can go do what you wanted to do in the first place, Rick."

He feels your body stiffen and has to laugh softly, "Relax. I'm staying here too."

Surprised, you lift your head and look into his blue eyes, "Yeah?"

His gaze slides down your face to your neck where there is now a dark hickey and nods again, "I'm not going anywhere."

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston @bloodycherry22 @vane28282 @bamslover @revesephemeres @emo-potato-virgil @tropodyn @mrsashleybarnes18-blog @igotbasicdrag @starsaroundmyscxrss @moonshine147 @1-800-isabellapotter @starkstiless @marvelfan789 @eternalrose81 @daryl-dixons-crazy-woman @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead #request #andrew lincoln

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tmntxthings · 1 year

Note

would you ever consider making a donnie version of the fanfic oneshot you made with leo? :)

∑一Literature At Its Finest*･。

author’s note: long time no see ( ´▽｀) idk if this has been noticeable but i’ve been slowing down with posting overall, im struggling with motivation to write esp with the semester starting up, maybe i’ll get back into it once things have settled down c: with that being said I hope you enjoy dear anon

warnings: fluff, short drabble, donnie pov, unedited

〈 leo’s 〉

—————————————————————————

Donatello Hamato was many things, an inventor, a scientist, and obviously a genius. So he would say it’s in his nature to be curious about the unknown. Now whether that unknown be of the scientific nature… or perhaps whatever it was that had your eyes glued to your screen for approximately one hour and twenty seven minutes..? Was there really a difference between the two? Donnie didn’t think so. Neither did his growing curiosity.

He had gotten halfhearted responses from you, like “yeahhh” and/or “cool Dee,” any time he tried to broach one of his latest and greatest projects. Usually you gave him your undivided attention and Donnie loved to just soak up your beautiful gaze. Sometimes he’d lose track if he glanced up into your eyes for too long, to which you would kindly tell him where he had left off.

So what was so important (on that stupid iphone 11 that could totally be upgraded by Othello Von Ryan himself if you ever let him) that you would dare ignore him for over an hour! In. His. Presence. He cleared his throat once more,

“Dearest? Are you listening?”

You didn’t glance up but you hummed in a tone that said, yes. Donnie narrowed his eyes. You were so absorbed you couldn’t even part those gorgeous orbs of yours off of your phone for a second? Just a tiny glance his way? He huffed, and pushed out of your chair. His usual spot when he came over was at your desk. You never really used it so Donnie had a few of his things there, it was like his own work place outside of his lab. He frequented this desk whenever you couldn’t make it to the lair.

He ventured to your bed, where you lay on your back, phone in front of your face unaware of your surroundings or your boyfriend.

“Then what did I just say?” Donnie challenged and you murmured something along the lines of “listening?” The purple turtle was quick to rephrase, “No, no! Earlier Y/n, my project!” He whined, getting a little desperate now for even just a crumb of your attention. Donatello watched with baited breath as you were as still as a statue. Eyes growing wider as you looked at your screen. A tiny smile forming on your face. Completely ignoring him. And that was Donnie’s breaking point.

One of his robo hands quickly unsheathed from his battle shell (yes he wore it everywhere) and snatched your phone right from under your nose. Funnily enough your hand was frozen in a state of holding the square device as you blinked and shock overcame your expression. And finally, finally, those eyes of yours met his. “Donnie!” You lurched forward almost falling out of your bed to reclaim your phone. “Yes darling?” Donnie feigned innocence as his robotic hand moved out of your reach. He smirked as he watched you steady yourself. You breathed in a quick breath.

“I was reading!” You said as if that explained everything and made grabby hands for him to return your technological property. “Must be pretty enthralling writing for you to ignore me, your handsome boyfriend!” Donnie sniffed and his metal hand moved to allow him to peer at your screen. It was like all hell broke loose, you screeched “No no no you can’t read it!!!”

Now as a full fledged nerd, he knew these were the telltale signs of someone reading something embarrassing.. and he deduced it was fan fiction. He may or may not have had his own similar experiences… Atomic Lass was his weakness. One that Leo loved to make fun of him for. “Well now I’m intrigued!” He saw you were using one of the main sites for such literature, ao3. His smirk only grew wider, “Doth mine eyes deceiveth me? Darling what are you reading hmmmm?” He continued to tease as his eyes roamed for more information. All the while ducking and dodging your mad grabs for your phone.

“Donald!!” You gave him your warning tone. But he didn’t care. You had ignored him for too long and if this is what it took to get your attention, by Newton he would do it! Plus, truly he wouldn’t shame you for your tastes in reading, it wasn’t like he was a pure soul when it came to reader x atomic lass..! “Let’s see,” Donnie cleared his throat dramatically and you audibly gasped thinking the worst: he was about to read aloud.

“I’ve waited all my life to find someone like you,” Donnie caught onto the scene and the emotion immediately growing more romantic (and dramatic). “You are the only one for me, in this life and all the rest! His hands unclenched from fists as he gently cupped your face-“

Donnie almost got a face full of pillow if a second robo arm hadn’t shot out to bat it away. He stole a glance up from your phone finding your face heated in a pretty blush, which only goaded Donnie to continue. “He only hesitated for a moment, looking into your eyes to find love and joy overflowing, he kissed you so heatedly, drawing out a—“

“DONATELLO!!!!!!!” You howled and finally snatched your phone away from his green grasp. Quickly closing your phone and the screen darkened. Donnie raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “That won’t stop a tech genius like moi” he said hand covering his chest. “Donnie!!” You exasperated, eyes pleading for him to stop the embarrassment. He threw in the metaphorical towel, robo arms hiding back in his shell as he sat down next to you on your bed. “Dearest you must know I read such things too,” he placated you, even though his cheeks felt warm admitting it out loud.

“So you must know how I feel!” You said insinuating that reading such private things aloud were a no-go. He sighed, “even amongst us?” You wavered and that was all it took. Donnie eagerly reached forward, wanting to prove to you that you needn’t be embarrassed.

“You are the only one for me,” he quoted from the dialogue he had just read earlier. His hands caressing your cheeks gently as he leaned forward. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to touch/kiss/hug as was the customs of dating, but it may have been odd for Donnie to be the one to initiate. So you were in a sort of frozen state as his lips murmured, “in this universe, and all those after it. I am yours,” he put his own little spin on it and sealed such romantics with a soft kiss.

You were moving after that, he was rewarded with a shy smile and your lips chasing after his. Making the heated kiss from the story come to life. “Okay maybe I won’t be so embarrassed..” you admitted after the both of you pulled away. It was quiet for a moment and then you continued, “Now what was that about your project?” A twinkle in your eye told him that maybe you had been paying more attention to him than he originally thought!

“Welllll, since my darling one is oh-so curious!” Donnie winked, making you smile brighter. The two of you moved to lay back against your pillows and he restarted his speech from the beginning. Getting all excited and making lots of hand gestures, with his real and robo hands! You were attentive once more, on your side and eyes never leaving him. He maybe blanked a couple of times, truly he lost himself within your gaze. But that was okay, you knew exactly where he left off!

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nico-di-genova · 2 months

Text

Okay, heading to bed soon, but here’s some more ultra specific FGCU frat boy Lance lore that may or may not make it into the fic:

Fgcu has this event called Winter Wonderland they hold during the holidays. There’s a booth where you can stuff your own stuffed animal. Lance chooses a reindeer wearing a sweater and leaves it at Fernando’s place because he goes there after the event. Fernando keeps it, and it kind of just is this little thing he has that makes him think of Lance.

Lance can fuck up a pizookie at BJ’s (yes, an actual restaurant name), he likes the classic one the most. Just look at this thing, delectable.

Frequent visitor of the keys (bar). He sits outside at a patio table. Sometimes his weird ass brings his laptop and just does homework out there while he’s sipping a beer.

Late night target runs in his sweats, slides, and a hoodie where he makes impulse purchases because he’s a little bored. Many a blind bag keychain and collectible has been bought out of boredom and insomnia.

Volunteers at the cat cafe close to campus to get his hours done, sometimes goes to the animal shelter like 30 minutes away if he’s feeling like hanging out with the dogs. He’s usually the go-to for getting cats to come out from hiding, something about him is safe to them, idk.

Wiped out on his bike once going on a chick-fil-a run and his fraternity brothers (Pato especially) have never let him live it down.

Lance sends Fernando a photo every time he comes across a gator (very frequently, the school is literally built on swampland) because he’s still kind of shook there’s just little dinosaurs chilling around the campus.

LOVES going to the beach to watch the sunset, especially this little place just off the main bridge where you can have a perfect view but usually avoid people/tourists. He keeps a blanket in his car for when he drives out to Fort Myers beach to watch it.

Suuuuper active. To the point his friends don’t know whether to be impressed or intimidated. He’s got a private tennis instructor he works with at the North Lake (student housing) courts Wednesday and Saturday mornings. He goes for runs around campus, starting at his off-campus housing. Since his apartment is close to the new student gym he walks there in the mornings and works out until his classes start (intentionally chose later in the day classes). He golfs too, you know, since it’s his major and all. He’s got access to two different courses regularly. His dad is a member of a country club nearby and Fernando’s mansion is built in a community that has an onsite course.

#im being normal about this au #can’t you tell?#strollonso #a lesson in braking

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mermaid-trash · 1 year

Text

CEO!Diluc x GN!Reader (SFW)

CEO!Diluc who hired you as his assistant because not only were you the most qualified candidate for the position, but you had also been the only candidate not to fawn over the young tycoon during the interview process.

CEO!Diluc who is caught off guard by the warmth that you bring to the office every day, and quickly becomes the one fawning over you; admiring your appearance from behind important papers that hide his flushed cheeks, waiting impatiently for the next time you enter his office with paperwork or a fresh cup of coffee in hand, all while trying to ignore the unfamiliar pounding of his heart.

CEO!Diluc who, against his own beliefs, engages in small talk with you every morning, asking how your weekend was and listening attentively to your response for the smallest scraps of information about your life, your likes and dislikes. Unbeknownst to him, the soft smile present on your face as you speak is mirrored on his own as he listens.

CEO!Diluc who more and more frequently catches himself thinking of you outside of work, when he drives past a café he thinks you would like or sees someone wearing a piece of clothing he thinks would look better on you, but convinces himself stubbornly that it doesn't mean anything.

CEO!Diluc who invites you to join him for lunch one day, simply so that he doesn't have to eat alone of course, and enjoys your company so much that he asks again the next day, and the next, until eventually he doesn't have to ask anymore. It becomes an unspoken part of your routine, to spend an hour together uninterrupted by work, sometimes chatting and sometimes just unwinding in a comfortable silence together.

CEO!Diluc who accidentally asks you out on a date during one of these lunch breaks. You had mentioned a restaurant in the city that you wanted to visit, and the words had escaped him before he could stop them: "We could go together tonight, if you like." His heart freezes at the stunned look you give him, but then you smile. It's wide and genuine, and Diluc realises that he desperately wants to see it again.

CEO!Diluc who spends the rest of the day panicking, suddenly aware of how underprepared for romance he feels. He isn't even certain that this is a date since neither of you had used that word and he doesn't want to presume anything, but still, this may be his only opportunity to spend an evening with you outside of work, and so he wants to make sure it's perfect for you.

CEO!Diluc who is obviously uncomfortable sitting at the small table opposite you, his eyes scanning the room constantly for anyone who may be watching him, judging him for this travesty of a date; he can barely even bring himself to look at you, so beautifully dressed up for him and lit by the flickering candle atop the white cloth covered table. He fears if he looks at you now, he may never want to look away.

CEO!Diluc who starts at the sound of your voice calling his name softly, his gaze suddenly jumping to your face and the concern written plainly on it. Biting your lip, you voice the question that had been playing on your mind all day until this moment: "Diluc, is this…is this a date?"

CEO!Diluc who freezes, warmth flooding his face as he searches blindly for the right answer. He fumbles, stuttering and stammering like a fool under your attentive gaze. In the end, he settles on a half answer: "I suppose that depends on what you would prefer." His head drops a little shamefully at his own hesitation; he was a coward, too afraid of rejection to take charge of the situation and affirm that yes, he wanted this to be a date.

CEO!Diluc who is pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of your hand grazing his, soft fingers intertwining with his in a firm, grounding grip. Shocked, he glances up at you and is greeted by a shy smile that makes your eyes twinkle far more beautifully than they had in the candlelight.

CEO!Diluc who's heart still hammers against his ribs erratically, but the young man finds it within himself to squeeze your fingers lightly in an unspoken assurance of his affections.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact modern au #diluc modern au #genshin impact headcanons

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lyrenminth · 2 months

Text

Quiet love 4/?

+18 some parts are smut. Proceed with caution.

You must know already. You could notice it underneath the stern frown and the politeness.

Justin was touch-starving.

He would touch you every time he was closer to you. He loved cuddle time and making breakfast together so he could grabbed your waist or touch your butt and pretend it was an accident. He would stand behind you, his warm chest glued to your back, to help you to reach something from the cabinets.

Since his job was so demanding he was trying a better quality time. You went for walk around the neighborhood or things like that. You couldn't wait for the off-season.

Things changed a little bit. For example, the kisses and hugs. His body was free to touch as well as yours. In the house, it was your little paradise.

Outside, he was different more tense and reserved. You still haven't meet his teammates.

You were ok with that. The season was three months away to finish and you didn't want to put pressure.

He was almost never home. You texted more, or make video calls when he was available.

Justin was so kind to explain you his moods during the season and how to handle it. And you were so grateful for that. You already knew things about the NFL, the schedule and administrative stuff so he didn't have to explain everything to you.

"If we lose, just hug me" he said one night when you were cuddling together. Your head was on his chest, and he was touching your arm absentmindedly "If we win, we can have something delicious to eat. Sometimes I just want to be here and pretend I don't have to play a big game on Sunday"

"It's very stressful, isn't?"

He nodded, and you couldn't resist to kiss his pouty mouth.

"I'm proud of you"

"Thank you"

"Really, Justin"

"You make things easier" a shadow crossed his eyes. "What?" you asked him.

"I remember when you told me you were leaving to Michigan" he stated in a low voice "I...felt butthurt for a while. To be honest, I felt I was losing you"

"Yeah? I know we agree to go to Oregon together" you remembered, feeling bad. "Sorry"

"No, no. I understand now"

"Did you miss me?"

"Yes" his voice sounded hoarse.

"I missed you too. But you were so busy"

"When I saw you again, during the dinner..." he left out a shaky breath "Mitch can tell you"

You laughed. "Tell me what?"

"I couldn't stop looking at you, seriously" even in the dark, you blushed. "You were like a beautiful ghost. He scold me later because I was creepy"

"Really? For me you were being your usual self"

He laughed. "Yeah, I don't know"

"To be honest, I change a lot during my time in Michigan" you confessed "But it was for the best"

"I notice you talk more" he pointed out. He put you closer if possible. "You are...more...confident? I don't know how to describe it"

"Yes, I worked a lot on me"

"Do you think I have changed?" he asked, like he didn't want to hear the answer.

"Yes, you have changed. Everyone does" you sighed and touched his pointy nose "Somehow you are still the same in certain aspects like your introversion, your sense of humor, your love for nature"

He nodded in agreement.

"I think you are right"

"I have know you for a looong time babe"

"Dont you get bored of me?" he asked, you kissed him "No, never"

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

The sex wasn't frequent but pretty passionate. He had a way with his mouth that made you shake and gasp for air. He had a beautiful body he didn't like to show so much even in his house, and his ass? Good God, you wanted to bite him so badly.

That morning you were making a green smoothie when he appeared in a rush only to stop when he saw you standing in the kitchen with a tank top and some shorts.

"Those are new?" he asked, getting closer and touching your ass.

You giggled your butt at him. "No"

"Damn, you legs look great"

"Yes?"

"Bend over"

"Justin" you warn him. It was Wednesday, he arrived late yesterday and now he was heading to practice. "You need to arrive early today?"

"No"

You bend over the counter, just a little so he could watch your ass better.

"Beautiful" he whispered in awe.

You stood straight again. "Do you want a smoothie?"

"Nah, I'll have breakfast there"

"Oh, okay"

"I can eat something else though" he grabbed you by your waist and put you over the counter.

"I would love it too, but you seriously need to go to practice, the team needs you" you said against his mouth. He groaned, frustrated.

"Okay"

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

The Chargers got eliminated during the playoffs. And this was the first hard moment in your relationship with Justin. He didn't want to hear anything, he was sore and frustrated but somehow he understood the situation. The injuries and bad calls kill them.

You were trying to comfort him as he said, and since his schedule wasn't clear he still was busy doing interviews and commercials.

It was during an interview that he kinda mention he wasn't single. You weren't expecting it.

"Yeah, you know it's tough but I think you need to surround yourself with people who care about you, in this case my family and partner so the process is easier. I reminds you to stay grounded"

The following questions were about the team and so, but some fans catch up the "partner" and entire forums on internet started creating articles with crazy headlines and speculations. You couldn't resist the temptation and checked on one blog or two. You never exposed Justin on your socials, and you tried to be discreet while out but in the era of the camera nothing was private.

There was a blurry pic of you two outside a restaurant. Justin was talking on his phone and you were looking at yours.

Your stomach dropped.

Your face wasn't clear enough but Justin was recognizable for a mile away.

"This is the chick"

"I can't see shit"

"Oh my god! All my chances are ruined"

"They are standing like two feet apart I don't think they're dating"

It was true, at the time that pic was taken you were still friends. However...

"She's after the money for sure"

"She is tall like him but she seems basic"

"He deserves better tbh"

"If he starts playing bad we know why"

"THIS IS WHY WE GOT ELIMINATED???"

You stopped reading after that. The rampant misogyny made want to cry.

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

Justin had the day off. And you were more than happy to have him home. The energy between you was strange though, more for you than him. During the evening while he grilled some meat you spoke about it.

"I saw the interview you did with Henkins" you mention casually "I think you broke a thousand girls' heart with that comment"

He raised his eyebrow, his side grin starting to grow.

"I think it would make you happy"

You blushed. "Yes, but it's scary. I'm not sure if I want people to know me"

"Bet they would love you"

You weren happy with that. The anxiety was creeping in. "I mean I fear my privacy, my job is kinda scrict about that..."

"Don't worry, we can keep our relationship private, I like it that way"

But still wasn't enough. You change your weight between one foot and the other. He sense you uneasiness and asked: "What?"

"I just commit the mistake of reading online" he rolled his eyes and cut you "Ohh, I told you not to do it" he said displeased, your stomach twisted "Those are strangers, don't let their invalid opinion affect you"

You sighed, gulping the tears. "I don't know, I never thought how it would be...don't be mad at me"

He put the tong on the table and gave you a hug, that was enough to make you feel supported. "Sorry it's just that is something silly to do that babe. I'm not mad, just worried"

"Because you are a social media quaterback" you said recalling that critique. He laughed "You cruel, no grilled meat for you then" he slapped you ass and sent you away.

And you had a better mood.

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

You were standing up between his legs, he was sitting comfortably in the couch. You were talking about...you don't remember, you said something bad and he got mad then you got mad, and you went to your room to vent. In your silence you realize you were wrong, an you were acting bratty so you went down to apologize. He was mad first but then look at your legs, a dark glimpse in his eye.

Ok, he was so hot when he was angry. Hot and scary. Like he could hold you with those strong arms and manhandle you until you were all on fours...Oh, yes, you needed to say sorry first.

"Sorry, Justin. I...yeah"

"Yeah? Thats all?"

"It was wrong to get mad over something like that"

"Baby, we were talking about cats, what the hell happened?"

"I don't know" you bite your lips.

"Ok" he pondered his next move for a few seconds. "Strip" he ordered.

"What?" you said.

He was going to spank you? Like right know? and why you were reluctant to the idea? You knew he was dominat in bed, but never like this. Your heart was beating so fast and you were so wet. His eyes were feral roaming your body like a lion before eating his prey. He put a hand on his bulge, squeezing himself.

With shaky hands you obeyed, piece by piece, your lace panties were the only barrier now. Without hesitation, Justin leaned in and kiss your lower belly sending a wave of heat direct to your core. You almost squirmed.

"Justin" you pleaded.

His hand traveled across your breasts and below, until they stopped in your mount of Venus. You were shaking, horny as fuck.

"You smell so good" he said, inhaling your scent. "Let me see" his voice was low, thick and grovel. With one finger he moved your panties aside, only to see how soaked you were. "Oh, my poor girl. I've leave you unattended, don't I?"

"Yes" you moaned when his fingers touched your clit.

"But you deserved it after acting like that?"

"Please" you sounded so needy that if you weren't so horny you would feel the shame.

His finger started rubbing your clit in the motion that make your knees weak. You started moving your hips to match the touch.

"So damn pretty"

Your uneven breath and the slick sounds were the only thing you could hear. Your legs started shaking your walls clenching around nothing. When you came apart Justin made you sit on his strong legs.

You looked instinctively for his lips, but he held you steady against his legs.

"Justin" you pleaded, touching his bulge. You wanted him in your mouth. You wiggled your ass to move away and kneel in front of him. When he let you, you didn't waste time to pull down his pants. His erection stood up, and you take the shaft with your hand, you gave him a few pumps before looking at him. His eyes were darker but he was fully confident.

"Do you like my cock, don't you?" you never could have guessed Justin was a dirty talker, but he was and excellent at it.

"Let me show you" you tongue made to job.

You licked his shaft up and down. Enjoying the little sounds he made. He was thick and hot in your mouth. He grabbed your hair and guided your mouth so you could take him deeper, until your eyes started getting watery. You loved when he was in control. He released you, and you took a few breaths before going down again. "Oh, yes...oh my god" he groaned. Justin stood up taking you with him and kissed you ferociously. "Show me that pretty ass, don't you?" he demanded. You obeyed, sitting on the couch carefully trying not to lose your balance. He stood up behind you, so he could see everything. You wiggled your ass to tease him, but suddenly stopped when he spank your ass kinda hard. You gasped, feeling hot the spot he hit. "Oh, my..." he started caressing your ass again. "Tell why do you apologize?"

"Because I call you an unreasonable prick" you cried. Another spank that made you flinch. Your walls were clenching around nothing and you couldn't understand why this was turning you on so bad. "And leaving without talking" the soft caresses after the spank were the best.

You felt long finger opening your folds, looking for your clit. "Don't look back" he ordered. You cried helpless. Two fingers were inside you now, pushing gently. It felt so good you almost purred from contentment. "You're so wet" he said again. He was using both hands, one to stimulate your clit while the other finger you. You were growing hotter and hotter by each minute. Whimpering and moaning. Your gaze started getting cloudy when he stopped.

He. Stopped.

"What? No, no, no" you cried "please continue this feel so good"

"I don't think so" he stated, calm.

"What?" you said getting angry. He took his pants down and move behind you, and spank you one last time then you feel his cock in your entrance "I'm an unreasonable prick, remember?"

"I said sorry" you cried.

"And I forgive you" he said sliding in, you felt stretched and full, but you missed his hand touching your clit it was better, more intense. You had to grab the edges of the couch when he started thrusting so hard into you. He was so fierce that you forgot how to talk or think properly. You could only feel the wonderful friction between your bodies.

"Yes, yes, yes" you said, your face against the couch. When his pace slowed down and his hand searched for your clit, rubbing it gently you were in a state of ecstasy. You clenched your walls around him, he hissed and spanked you again. But you were ascending to heaven for the second time to even care. You moaned his name, and he increased the rhythm. "You. Are. Mine" he said between every thrust.

"Yes, yes!" you cried. You felt his cock twitch inside you confirming his climax, and he laid down over you for a second . His heavy breathing was on your neck, and he hugged you from behind.

You stayed like that for a few minutes.

It was too early to say "I love you"? You wondered because that's what you were feeling. Justin slip out and turned you around. Your lazy smile made him laughed. "Do you want water?" he said, standing up in all his naked glory. What a man. He was a Michelangelo sculpture for sure.

"Yes, please"

Justin was into aftercare too. And your heart couldn't handle his attentiveness. He cleaned you and help you to put your clothes on. Brought you water and snacks, and cuddle with you.

When you both were in your little bubble, you felt like nothing could go wrong.

#justin herbert #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert imagine #nfl

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lulublack90 · 4 months

Text

Prompt 28 - Remain

@jegulus-microfic February 28 Word count 666

Previous part First part

“Maman, I thought you and Papa were still at the country mansion.” Regulus tried to cover his shock at his mother’s sudden appearance.

“The Dark Lord requested the assistance of The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, and so I immediately returned to our ancestral home.” Walburga recited proudly. Regulus was glad his emotionless mask had automatically slipped into place when she’d uttered her first word, as he wanted very badly to roll his eyes at her.

“What did The Dark Lord require?” He asked, hoping he wasn’t being too obvious with his questioning. Walburga narrowed her eyes at him, and he felt her force her way into his head. He let her in. Everything of importance was locked away where she could never find it.

“You’ve been to the Rosier household frequently recently.”

“Yes, Maman. He is a friend from school, and we have been a successful team for The Dark Lord. He has been pleased with our work.” She seemed appeased by his answer.

“Good, good. Then you may continue your acquaintance with the family.” She turned to walk up the stairs.

“Is Kreacher with you?” He called before she completely disappeared.

“That is the reason I have returned. The Dark Lord required him for a task of some sort.” Regulus froze. It was never a good thing when Voldemort asked for house elves. A lot of them never came back.

His hand went to his pocket again, checking everything was still there. He would have to be a lot more careful now that his Mother had returned. He did not yet know how long she would remain at Grimmauld Place, but he was eternally thankful they’d had their meetings at Evan’s rather than here.

He went to his room and carefully put as many silencing charms on it as he could remember, and even then, he whispered into the mirror.

“James?” He only had to wait seconds before James’s face was grinning back at him.

“Couldn’t go without seeing my face for more than an hour, huh?”

“James, shhh, be quiet.” James’s expression changed to worry.

“What’s happened?” He asked seriously.

“My Mother was here when I arrived home. She started asking questions.”

“Shit. Are you okay?” Regulus nodded.

“Yes, she didn’t find anything. But she did tell me that Voldemort wanted Kreacher for something important. I’ll have to wait for him to return before I find out what. I don’t want to appear too interested.”

“Yeah, keep your head down. How long do you think he’ll be?” James said quietly.

“I don’t know, she didn’t say. There’s a meeting in two days. He should be back by then if Voldemort is.”

Regulus heard a creak outside his bedroom door and watched the handle rattle. He snapped the mirror shut and removed his silencing charms as he slipped it inside his pocket. He grabbed his book and reclined lazily on his bed, pretending to read it.

The handle rattled again, this time allowing his Mother to enter. Walburga stared at him suspiciously.

“Why was your door locked, Regulus?”

“It wasn’t Maman. The latch is sticky. Sometimes, it doesn’t open unless you force it.” He hoped she bought it. He didn’t have any other excuses.

“Hmm,” If she suspected him of lying, she didn’t voice it. “Goodnight, Regulus.”

“Goodnight, Maman.” She shut the door carefully behind her. Regulus made a note to mess with the latch to make it stick for the next time she came to his room.

Lily had agreed to pass messages from James and Sirius to the rest of the team at Rosier House, so he hoped James would warn them that Walburga was back. His friends didn’t try to contact him, at least.

Apparently, Orion had opted to stay in the country while the weather was still fine, so it was just Regulus and Walburga for the next few days. Regulus didn’t think he’d long for a Death Eater meeting, but the next one couldn’t come quick enough.

Next part

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thesassypadawan · 5 months

Text

The Jedi and The Waitress (Master Obi-Wan x FemReader)

Summary: It feels like forever since you’ve seen your “jedi boyfriend” and you’re missing Obi terribly. What started out as a sweet reunion, quickly turns into something just a tad more heated…better get back to your apartment fast for that week full of “fun” activities.

Warnings: A little bit of the fluff, and a bit of the smut.

“You, my dear, are the most ravishing creature in the whole galaxy,” he muttered, cupping your cheek. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss.

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

It seemed like it had been forever since you last felt his soft lips on yours. His large, calloused hands caressing the curves of your body. His thick –

“All right, missy, you can head on out for the day.”

Your head shot up at the sound of Dex’s booming voice. “Oh!” You squeaked, trying to hide your very apparent blush. “Is it that time already?”

The besalisk gave you a knowing smile from the kitchen window. “Thinking about that jedi boyfriend again, weren’t ya?”

Your eyes went wide, and you began to stutter. “I, um – well, I -”

Dex shook his head and laughed. “Go punch out and round up your things. I’ll walk ya to the shuttle stop.”

“Yes, boss; thank you!” You awkwardly replied, before swiftly escaping to the back.

You had been waitressing at the diner for just over a year now. All your coworkers were absolutely wonderful. Dex, your boss, was the kindest soul you ever worked for. Plus, you got to encounter all sorts of very interesting individuals.

That’s how you met him. The jedi master was apparently one of the diner’s regulars and an old friend of Dex. He would pop in usually about once a week for a cup of caf and a slice of whatever cake you had on special. Sometimes he would even stay well after closing time, catching up with Dex and getting to know you better.

When your shifts had changed to the lunch rush, you were worried that you wouldn’t see him as often. Your concerns only lasted for a week or so.

He began showing up early afternoon and stopping by more frequently. He would still converse with Dex, but it was very clear that he came only for you. Your dear boss reserved a special seat at the counter just for him.

You found him to be very charming and he thought you were ‘absolutely delightful’. One thing quickly led to another and soon something beautiful had blossomed between the two of you.

It had been a difficult path to navigate at first. The jedi code was the biggest obstacle, it wasn’t easy going against centuries old rules. And now this whole war business had not helped either, taking him away for long periods of time. Despite all of this though, you both made it work.

Opening the door to your employee locker, you couldn’t help but smile at the oversized brown cloak that hung inside. He had given it to you before his most recent mission. Saying he hoped you would wear it and think ‘fondly’ of him.

You could feel your face heat up once more, as you hastily pulled it on. Instantly you were enveloped in his scent, wood with faint traces of leather and caf. Bringing a long sleeve to your nose, you inhaled deeply. A small sigh escaping you.

“Let’s go, missy! The shuttle is gonna be coming soon and this new driver doesn’t wait around long for stragglers!” Dex hollered, standing by the alley door. One set of hands on his hips, bemused look on his face.

“Coming!” Snatching your bag, you hurriedly ran to meet him. Silently cursing to yourself when you nearly tripped on the cloak’s hem. Hoping it went unnoticed.

“I think ya might want to consider dating a shorter jedi!” He laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder to help steady you.

You gave Dex an appreciative nod and mumbled a small thanks.

Dex just shook his head and laughed again in response.

A thought occurred to you as he began guiding you outside. “Hey, boss, how do you know this new driver so well?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder.

“Suppose ya could say he’s a good friend of mine.”

“And you certainly have a lot of those,” you giggled. Turning your head back around, you suddenly stopped stunned in your tracks.

Standing before you… Leaning against a speeder bike… Looking as dashing as ever was… “Hello there.”

“Obi!” You cried out, running to him and throwing yourself into his open arms.

Holding you tightly, he smiled down at you warmly. “It’s good to see you, darling.”

Tilting your head up, you took a good look at Obi-Wan. Your heart ached as you noticed the still healing bruises and cuts on his handsome face. And fluttered when you saw the mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

You lifted your hand and gently cupped his cheek. “I missed you,” you whispered.

He happily leaned into your touch, nuzzling affectionately against your palm. “I missed you as well.”

Standing on your tiptoes, you boldly captured his lips in a searing kiss. One that you poured all your need and love into.

His lips moved passionately against yours. Hungry and desperate. Obi slipped a hand under your cloak, slowly sliding down –

“All right ya two, time for ya to be heading off!” Dex interrupted loudly.

Immediately breaking the kiss, you buried your face into Obi-Wan’s chest. So grateful to have your back turned to the besalisk.

Obi gave you a comforting squeeze. “Thanks, Dexy!” He laughed. “I’ll be sure to have her back to work in a week!”

“Yeah, yeah! Just don’t go too crazy!”

Hearing the door slam shut, you peeked up at Obi-Wan. “What do you mean in a week?” You asked meekly.

“Surprise!” He chuckled. Lifting you with ease and placing you on the bike. “I have some downtime between missions, and I am going to spend every minute of it with you.”

Your eyes lit up. “Really?! I get you all to myself?!”

Slotting his much larger frame between your legs, he caged you in with his arms. “Yes, sweetheart, all yours,” he muttered huskily, his mouth inches away from yours. “To do whatever you want.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Just barely brushing against the growing bulge in his pants. “What are we waiting for, General Kenobi?”

He rolled his hips in response and pressed a quick, heated kiss to your lips. Obi then gave your butt a good squeeze and sat himself on the speeder in front of you.

“Shall we continue this at home?” He wickedly grinned, placing your helmet on your head.

Holding on to him tightly, your body firmly pushed up against his, you purred. “Yes, let’s.”

Not wanting to waste another moment, the two of you sped off into the evening sky…heading to your shared apartment for a week full of ‘fun’ activities.

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