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mlmxreader · 1 year

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Scoundrel | Grady Travis x m!reader

Anonymous asked: Great got it!

So i was wondering if i could request a fic whit Grady Travis and a male reader where they are having an argument over a game of cards and while their arguing they get called an old married couple by another member of the Crue, wich they deny profusely but it makes them realize some feelings they have for eachother for the first time.

Thank you sm

-🧷

summary: oh, Grady is a fucking asshole when it comes to card games - but maybe you could live with it.

tws: swearing, smoking, gambling

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Grady cheated. Whenever it came to playing cards with you, he always cheated to try and get one over you, but it never worked as you could see right through him; gambling for cigarettes, gambling just to pass the time while Collier made the tank stop for a while in allied camps. He would try to secure food, fuel, ammunition - pretty much anything he could get his hands on - which always gave you and Grady time to kill.

But he was cheating something awful at the moment, and although you usually just laughed it off and told him to stop, you couldn’t take it anymore, and sighed heavily as you set your cards down, glaring at him; he glared back, those big brown eyes so fucking hard to resist that you nearly shut up immediately and forgot what you were about to say. But then he smiled, a shit eating grin on his face, and you remembered every fucking word that you wanted to say to him; you leaned back, lit a cigarette, and shook your head.

“You are a fucking awful cheater, Grady.”

“I’m not cheating,” he scoffed. “You’re just a shit player.”

Your glare was harsh, but Grady knew you far too well; he knew you would sit there and seethe and wish that you could rip his throat out, but that you would never do it in a thousand years. You would just shout at him until he made you laugh. He always found it easy to make you laugh, especially when he flirted with you - his secret little weapon. He grinned.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” you grumbled. “You’re a fucking cheat.”

Grady scoffed. “You’re just a shit player, I keep telling you that.”

“I’m not even that shit a player,” you bit back. “Or at least, I wouldn’t be if you actually played by the fucking rules.”

“I’m not pulling my fucking punches for you,” he couldn’t help but to laugh a little. “What? Do you think you’re special just ‘cause you’re the hottest guy here?”

“Oh fuck-”

“Quit it,” Collier huffed as he walked past. “You’re acting like a married couple again.”

“Me?” You scoffed. “Married to that cheating bastard? Never!”

“Oh, please,” Grady growled. “You’d fucking love to marry me!”

You shook your head, thinking that your heart was only pounding at the thought solely because you despised him that much. “You’re a scoundrel - I’d despise being married to you!”

“And I’d despise being married to your uptight ass,” he hissed. “Fucking getting all huffy at a card time all the time.”

“I do not get fucking huffy!” You huffed as you turned away from him, shaking your head again as you finished your cigarette and threw the butt at him. “Asshole. I’d hate to marry you.”

Grady quirked a brow, tilting his head to the side as he examined your features for a moment; he had you exactly where he always wanted you. He couldn’t deny that he did find it cute when you bickered with him, when you got so huffy and started to sulk; he knew that you liked his big brown eyes, he had caught you looking enough times to realise that you would always look away when he gave you his attention. He knew that you liked his jokes, always the loudest laugh in the room whenever he told the most disgusting ones. He knew that you had a soft spot for him.

Of course he didn’t want to admit that, though, as it would mean having to admit that he… kind of felt the same way, he guessed. He liked your eyes, he liked it when you glared at him and he got a really good look of the colour, nearly getting lost in the process every time. He liked that you laughed so loudly whenever he told his grossest jokes, he liked to hear the sound more than anything, as well as the sheer joy on your face. He liked that you had a soft spot for him. He liked a lot of things about you, but those were absolutely his favourite in the world. Especially when you got flustered and ended up storming away when he flirted with you.

But what Grady didn’t know was that you were starting to doubt yourself as you sat there.

Sure, he was funny, with his stupid disgusting jokes. Sure, he had those big brown eyes that you could always get lost in whenever you glared at him for too long, and those far too kissable lips just to make matters even worse. Sure, you liked it when he laughed, and you liked it even more when he spoke with that kind of growl to his voice. You liked it when he teased you, more than you could say, and maybe you did like it when he bickered with you so much and always made you laugh at the end.

Maybe you wouldn’t mind being married to him so much. Maybe Grady was just the kind of guy that you wanted to be with in the end, even if you would never give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Maybe belonging to Grady wouldn’t be so bad, even if he did cheat at cards whenever he had the chance; even if he was a little gross and he was a little bit of a bastard, but… but maybe you could live with that.

It wasn’t even like he wasn’t attractive, if anything, he was probably the most attractive man you had ever met in your life. He was still an asshole, though.

“Y’know,” Grady said quietly. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“What?”

“Being married,” he murmured, shrugging. “Maybe I could live with a husband who gets huffy at a little bit of cheating.”

You glared at him for a moment, then shook your head. “You wouldn’t settle down.”

“Maybe for the right guy… maybe for a guy who’s uppity.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you tore your gaze away from him again. “Don’t be a teasing asshole.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, well…” you shrugged, swiping a hand down your face. “Maybe I could learn to live with a guy who cheats at every fucking poker game.”

“Even if he’s a scoundrel?”

#mlem writes #grady travis x reader #grady travis imagine #grady travis #fury fanfiction #fury fanfic #fury imagine #fury x reader #fury 2014 #jon bernthal imagine #jon bernthal x reader #Jon Bernthal

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bowdre · 6 months

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Dear, Don. My beloved

February 7th, 1942.

Dear, Don. My beloved.

You haven't been gone for very long, but it already feels like a lifetime. The baby moves a lot, I think it misses it's daddy more than I do. I'll be sure to write you as soon as I give birth.

How are you? Are they treating you okay? You've always been a strong man, I have not a doubt you'll be okay. Please, try not to think about the accident too much. About your brother, God rest his soul. He would want you to carry on, he was never a vengeful person.

I miss you terribly. The house is so lonely. My dad and brother came by to finish painting the nursery and building the crib. Alex tried to enlist in the Army after you went away, but because of his eyesight he wasn't approved. I have a feeling he envies you, because you get to fight for America. But he's only 19, so naive still.

I'm sure you're very busy, I won't eat up any more of your time.

I love you so very much, Don. Be safe out there, wherever you are.

Your beloved, Susannah.

February 20th, 1942.

Dear, Susannah. My beautiful wife.

No words can express how much I miss you and our baby. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you, and the mistakes I made.

I haven't touched a drop of alcohol since the accident.

My crewmates are named Boyd, Gary, Gordo and Red. We call Boyd Bible, since he was in divinity college before he was drafted. Gary is called Grady and Red prefers his nickname over his real name.

We are being shipped to Africa. My crew fights in a tank, I'm the sergeant. We call the tank Fury. The guys found your picture when I accidently left it in the tank. They say you are quite beautiful.

I love you more than anything, my darling, Susannah. Take care of yourself and our baby.

Your beloved, Don.

March 10th, 1942.

Dear, Don. My beloved.

I gave birth today, to a healthy and happy baby girl. Her name is Anastasia Grace Collier. She weights 6 pounds and 2 ounces. My parents are here, my mother will stay with me for a few weeks to help with Ana. Your parents haven't visited or called.

I hope I can go home soon. It hurts to walk. I wish you were here.

How are you? How's Africa? I bet it's hotter than the sun. Try and make sure you boys are eating and drinking water, though I can't imagine it's easy.

I try not to imagine the conditions you're in. My sweet husband, you don't deserve this. Come home to me, I beg you. Baby Ana deserves to meet her father.

Much love to you and your crew.

Your beloved, Susannah.

May 5th, 1942

Dear, Susannah. My beautiful wife.

Anastasia Grace, my beautiful daughter is very lucky to have such a wonderful mother. I wish I could hold you both right now.

There's word we'll be leaving Africa soon, but no one truly knows. It's hot here, disgustingly hot. I can't seem to find the words to tell you much else than that.

Bible says he'll pray for you and our baby girl. He also says he prays for our crew to all go home. He means well, but ever since the accident I find it hard to believe in faith. Though, I hope you continue going to Sunday Church. I do miss the church, it always reminds me of our wedding day.

How long are these dear babe letters supposed to be?

I miss you.

Your beloved, Don.

April 10th, 1942.

Dear, Don. My beloved.

Ana is growing like a weed, and she smiles a lot. She cries all night, I'm not quite sure what to do with her during those hours. I fear she'll get sick, my momma says it'll happen eventually.

My dad was in the hospital, I think it had something to do with his lungs. Those damned factories, he ought to retire.

I don't have much free time, my love. Ana is a full time job. I hope you're doing well, I miss you more than anything.

Your beloved, Susannah.

May 30th, 1942.

Dear, Susannah. My beautiful wife.

We're in France now. We spend a lot of time in little towns.

How's your father? I hope he's well. Grady caught a bad bug on the boat and shit himself practically every night. It was quite funny.

How's our little Ana? I bet she's growing to be as beautiful as her mother.

There's a lot of work to be done here. I don't have much time.

I love you, my darling.

Your beloved, Don.

June 25th, 1942.

Dear, Don. My beloved.

Daddy died today. The funeral is next week. Ana babbles a lot, I think her first word will be dada.

Momma said I should get a job at the factories. She says I won't be able to live off daddy's inheritance forever, and with you being away, it's almost guaranteed we'll lose the house.

I'm always sad, Don. I hardly have enough will to feed and change Ana. What's wrong with me?

I hope you're well. Be safe.

Your beloved, Susannah.

August 6th, 1942.

Dear, Susannah. My beautiful wife.

We're still in France. I think we'll be here for a while. I miss you. Please take care of yourself, and our baby girl.

There's so much to do, I hardly have time to write.

I love you, my precious girl.

Your beloved, Don.

January 1st, 1943.

Dear, Don. My beloved.

Our first Christmas and New Years without you. Almost a year since you left us.

Momma sewed Anastasia a lot of different clothes. My favorite is a little pink dress that she's still a bit too small for.

It snowed a lot during the holidays. It was lonely without you and daddy. Alex spent Christmas in the hospital, he broke his leg on a ski trip. How was your Christmas?

I think I'll get a job at one of the factories, my mom said she'll take care of Ana during the day.

I love you so much, my handsome husband.

Your beloved, Susannah.

February 3rd, 1943

Dear, Susannah. My beautiful wife.

Christmas and New Years was lonely. Bible sang hymns and Gordo got drunk.

Why haven't you sent a picture of my beautiful daughter yet? I love her more than my own life and yet I don't know what she looks like.

This war is hell.

Your beloved, Don.

May 25th, 1943.

Dear, Don. My beloved.

Here's a photo of our beautiful baby. She's growing and changing everyday. She looks just like her daddy. She's already 14 months old, can you believe it?

I work a lot. I volunteered as a nurse at the hospital but it was just too much blood. Blood and screaming. I can't imagine what you have to endure, my love.

A new neighbor moved in. Madame Smith passed away nearly 6 months ago, and this new neighbor took over her house. A young man, not married. Mama thinks he's handsome. Mama practically lives with me and Ana now.

I love you, Don.

Your beloved, Susannah.

July 4th, 1943

Dear, Susannah. My beautiful wife.

Anastasia Grace is beautiful. I think about you two often. Bible prays for Ana a lot. Gordo and Grady say she's the cutest baby they've ever seen. Red says she reminds him of his own daughter, Mary. I've hung her picture up in the tank. She's my motivation. I think she's everybody's motivation, even though the boys have their own families. Ana is lucky to have such caring uncles. I hope we can all meet her soon.

Your beloved, Don.

January 1st, 1944

Dear, Don. My beloved.

I haven't received a letter from you for months. I fear that you've died.

Please, write to me.

Your beloved, Susannah.

March 10th, 1944

Dear, Susannah. My beautiful wife.

Happy second birthday to my darling daughter, Anastasia Grace.

Your beloved, Don.

June 3rd, 1944.

Dear, Don. My beloved.

It's my birthday today. Did you forget? I turn 26 today.

Your parents called. The first time since you've left us. They wished me a happy birthday and requested to meet Ana. I'm seeing them next weekend. They want to visit your brother's grave.

Our neighbor, Mark Blanch has invited me for dinner. I told him no. I think that made him quite angry.

Come home to your family, Don. You're missed very much.

Your beloved, Susannah.

October 24th, 1944.

Dear, Susannah. My beautiful wife.

We're in Germany now.

This war has ruined us.

Your beloved, Don.

December 25th, 1944.

Dear, Don. My beloved.

Merry Christmas. I miss you.

Ana asks lots of questions about her daddy. I don't know what to tell her, what's appropriate to tell her. Your father has told her that her daddy is away in a fantasy land, fighting bad guys. I wish he didn't tell her that.

I hate this war. Probably not as much as you do, but I hate it. I have a hard time getting out of bed most mornings.

Please, come home.

Your beloved, Susannah.

March 10th, 1945.

Happy 3rd birthday to my darling daughter, Ana.

The boys wanted to send her a gift. Gifts are hard to come by in Nazi Germany.

I love you both.

Your beloved, Don.

April 24th, 1945.

Dear, Susannah. My beautiful wife.

I'm going to die. I know it. Gordo, Grady and Bible are dead. Red died a long time ago. We got this new kid, Norman. He looks like my Norman. He reminds me of my little brother.

I want to die, Susannah. My time has come. I have done nothing right in life besides make you my wife. I killed my brother. I couldn't keep my crew alive. I never got to meet my own daughter. I deserve to die.

I have loved you since we children, Susannah. I have never loved anyone more than you. I miss you so much. I've missed you for the last 3 years. I thought about you 24/7. You were my light, my will to keep living.

I'm sorry I can't keep living. Keep living for me.

I love you, Susannah.

Your beloved, Don.

Susannah received Don's final letter in the mail nearly a month after it was written. She wrote dozens of letter back to him, never getting a reply. She tried her darndest to find any information she could about her husband, and his crew mates. Upon her failure, Susannah fell into a two year long depressive state.

Ana's grandmother raised her for these two years.

Susannah never forgot her beloved husband, Don Collier. When Anastasia was old enough, in 1957 when Ana was 15 to be exact, Susannah told her everything there was to know about her father. That he accidently killed his brother, that he went to war instead of prison, that he died at war.

Susannah remarried in 1960 at the age of 42. She married Mark Blanch, who was 50. Anastasia never called him dad.

Susannah never changed her name to Blanch.

She died in 2004 at the age of 86.

She was buried beside the gravestone marked for Don Collier in their home town in Oklahoma.

Her gravestone read;

Here lies Susannah Collier. 1918-2004. Beloved wife and mother.

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