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elliesbelle · 11 months

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nobody compares to you

chapter 1

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you’re in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, use of marijuana, use of alcohol, sexual speech and content, anxiety attack, homophobia, brief mentions of predatory men, potential smut in the future so minors do not interact, a little bit enemies to lovers

word count: 3.6k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

You lean against the living room wall, holding three of your friends’ purses along with your own. The intoxication from a cup of jungle juice from an hour ago was beginning to wear off. You didn’t mean to become the unofficial mom friend of the group tonight, but your reluctance to endure more close-quartered gyrating cemented the position. If you had to utter another “excuse you” to an incredibly handsy frat boy, you’d be getting kicked out for an aggravated assault attempt.

You didn’t really mind sobering up a bit, not tonight. Whether it was your hazy thoughts or the particular ambience in this frat house, you just weren’t in a huge mood to socialize.

Earlier this morning, your friends had flooded your group chat with enthusiastic messages about yet another party happening later that night. It was a regular fall Saturday at your university, which meant there was always a rager or two.

You were perfectly fine tagging along with your friend group to these events, though. You were well aware of your friends’ ulterior motives in pushing you to come out, but you chose to ignore it. Instead, you’d allowed them to hype you up while getting ready earlier that evening. Some pre-gaming had ensued in the form of vodka shots, and sharing of eyeshadow palettes & lipsticks had occurred when dolling up pre-party.

“Babes, if you don’t teach me how to do my eye makeup the way you do, I swear…” Your friend Sidney whined next to you as she watched your steady hand apply finishing touches to your eyes.

You chuckled but said nothing as you set your liquid eyeliner down and reached for your setting spray. There was no need for such meticulous styling to your makeup for some trivial frat party. You mostly did it for your own satisfaction, but a particular memory had tugged at your brain with every brush stroke. But this memory remained unacknowledged as you fanned your newly set face.

You’d allowed yourself a revealing outfit tonight: a lacy black bralette peaking from underneath a maroon leather jacket and a tight black miniskirt that flounced with the slightest movement. Peaking from underneath your shirt was a pair of fishnet stockings. Topping it off was your favourite pair of knee-high black boots. This particular attire garnered squeals and wolf whistles from your friends in their equally slutty outfits.

A couple of hours later, however, your appearance was a contradiction to your spiritless demeanor. You were tired and sweaty, the majority of your foundation having been perspired off in this sauna of a gathering. Feet blistering as a betrayal of high-heel boots, you struggled to keep yourself upright against the wall.

“Hey, hot stuff.” An approaching voice says.

Your eyes darted to the sound, ready to hurl a harsh “fuck off” at whatever creep decided to enter your sobering bubble. But upon spotting the culprit, you relaxed immediately.

“Hey, Jesse.” You exhaled.

“Damn, you looked like you were gonna rip me a new one just now.” He chuckled.

“Sorry, sorry. You know how it can be at these shit parties.”

Jesse was a rare guy friend of yours. You didn’t make a habit of befriending boys at college, but he was an exception.

You’d met him freshman year when your friend group merged with another on the way to some start-of-the-year party. After some mutual friends introduced you, you hit it off almost immediately.

Jesse was easy to talk to, never a creep or too invasive. You loved his dumb dad jokes and loyal nature. He never hit on you, even before finding out you were a lesbian. During tough times in recent years, he was there for you. He was a genuine guy who you’d instinctively trust your drink with. And right now, he was good company to have when you were alone and wistful at these stressful shindigs.

“I get it, dude. But mom friend again tonight?” He asks, gesturing to the mass of purses in your hands.

You shrug and reply, “It’s cool.”

“Man, you’ve danced probably a total of three times at one of these things since last year. Are you even having fun?”

“Eh. After three years, I’m a senior citizen.”

“So what does that make me, since I’m graduating this year?” He asks, mockingly put his hands on his hips.

“Ancient,” You reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

Jesse places a hand on his chest and gasps dramatically, replying, “Fucking rude.”

You chuckle.

“I’m really okay, though.” You reassure him. “The girls wanted to go out tonight, but I’m just a bit tired.”

“Tired or overstimulated?”

You smile at his understanding.

“Both.”

He chuckles.

“Some cool people are passing around a fat ass joint outside. Wanna join?”

You hold up the handful of purses you were tasked to guard as a response.

“Alright, gimme,” He says, reaching his hand out. “Mom friend substitute while you go get high.”

“You don’t wanna smoke?”

“It’s cool, that’s where I’ve been for the last half hour or so. I should cool off for a little bit anyways.”

You feel guilty for leaving Jesse to watch your belongings, even for a few short minutes. But his fingers wiggle expectantly and you know there was no point in arguing.

“Thanks, dude.” You exhale as you hand off your weight. “Probably been needing a few hits of a j all night, anyway.”

“Looks like it. Go ahead; D’s out there smoking with them if you wanna say hi.”

“Oh, nice. Haven’t seen her tonight yet. Be back in a sec, then.”

You tear yourself off from your spot on the wall and will your blistered feet to move towards the door. Not absolutely sober yet, you stumble across the living room before you could push past the screen door and into the brisk October air. Following the smell of pot laced with lavender in the air, you see a circle of people hanging out by a parked Jeep, illuminated slightly by the embers of a joint being passed around.

Lavender?

“Oh, fuck.” You say a little too loudly.

A few heads turn towards your voice, one of which was Dina’s.

“Hey, babe! I didn’t know you were here!” She says enthusiastically, approaching you with a bounce in her step. She pulls you into a brief but tight embrace.

“Been here for the past hour, D.” You laugh nervously. “Where have you been?”

“Been helping El’s lazy ass roll a fuckton of j’s for the past half hour that she was supposed to roll for customers before the party. But now, we’re just chilling. Want a hit?”

Dina’s chin tilts towards the Jeep. Your eyes follow her aim to the girl sitting on its hood. Your breathing stops when you see the very person you were hoping not to encounter tonight.

She was unmistakable in a simple grey, unbuttoned flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves to show off an arm tattoo, slightly distressed jeans, and her old Converse sneakers. A few strands of auburn hair fell in front of her face out of the usual half-bun. You watch as her eyebrows—the right one with its notable slit slashed through—furrowed in concentration as she attempts to relight the joint in her pursed lips.

Your throat closes up and you feel your heart clench tightly in your chest.

Ellie.

You immediately redirect your eyes back to Dina before Ellie can look up from behind her left hand shielding the lighter from the slight breeze.

“Uh, no. I’m good. Just needed to step out for a hot sec. Needed a breather from the sea of raging hormones in there.”

Another breeze suddenly hits your exposed skin, colder than the last. You figure this was a good way to excuse yourself back into the house.

“I’m about to freeze my tits off out here, though. Gonna head back in.” You hug your arms around your bare stomach, goosebumps starting to form.

You begin to turn right back around, but Dina grabbed your arm.

“Oh! You came with Sidney and them, right? She said you were all planning on going to Sterling’s after this.”

“We were?” You ask, thrown off and a little irritated that your friends hadn’t consulted you in this change of plans.

“Yeah! We’re gonna come with ‘cause I’m craving a blueberry pancake bad and Jesse’s deranged self wants a strawberry milkshake.” Dina affectionately rolls her eyes. “Just let us know when you leave? We’ll head out with you.”

“Um, sure.” Your heart begins to pound twice its normal speed.

By “we,” did she mean—?

“Okay, yay! We should go soon ‘cause I feel the munchies creeping up on me. I blame El for smoking me out as thanks for my rolling services.”

The auburn-haired girl smirks at Dina’s comment, but you refuse to look at her this time. Instead, your eyes trail after the joint that Ellie was now passing to the girl to her left.

The girl looked unfamiliar, but something in her face and posture screamed “freshman.” A brown motorcycle jacket was laying on top of her shoulders. Joel’s old motorcycle jacket. Ellie’s jacket.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and settle for pursing your lips.

Chivalrous fuckboy graciously offering her jacket to a beautiful lady. Typical Ellie Williams move.

You don’t allow yourself to dwell on whether Ellie had decided to lend her dad’s old jacket to a pretty stranger or a new girlfriend. You certainly don’t allow yourself to settle on which scenario would hurt your feelings more. And you definitely don’t dwell on the fact that she’s pulled this move on you more than once in the past.

The girl takes no notice of your gaze as she accepts the joint, taking a hit.

“I love that you always add lilac to these, Ellie. It smells so much better than a regular j.”

Biting back the impulse to correct the girl, you merely look back at Dina to say, “Right. I’ll see y’all in a bit then, D?”

“Sounds perfect. We’ll be here!” She replies happily.

You give her a quick smile before returning inside the house, ignoring the green eyes now watching your departing figure.

You don’t know how, but you know for a fact that Ellie’d been staring at you ever since she heard you mention your freezing tits and unintentionally pushed your breasts together when you’d grabbed your exposed stomach.

You walk through the front door and head straight for the bathroom that was just to the right. It wasn’t clear at the moment why you’d known that there was a half bath in this direction, but you were busy catching your breath to care.

The bright, ugly fluorescents illuminating from the bathroom ceiling was sobering you up quickly. You wished you had gotten drunker. Trying to recall some breathing techniques an old therapist had taught you, your eyes fall on your appearance in the mirror.

Not awful. I still look kind of hot.

You reassure yourself that Ellie had only gotten a dim glimpse of you and hadn’t gotten a chance to notice how flushed you looked.

Is it from the alcohol or was it from seeing her again so close after all these months?

You could bail from the party now. Tell your friend group chat that you were heading home and text Dina separately, saying you weren’t feeling well.

I can’t…

It takes you about five seconds to scrap that plan. You weren’t that type of friend to just bail, especially not when you’ve got drunk friends who were all girls surrounded by creeps or creep-adjacent frat boys. Plus, you’ve barely seen Dina and Jesse since the start of the school year. You could set aside your selfishness for one night and endure Ellie for just a little while.

It’s okay. It’ll be like old times, except I ignore her the whole night.

You hadn’t noticed that you were tearing up a little. Quickly but delicately, you wipe any tears threatening to fall, carefully avoiding smudging your eye makeup.

I shouldn’t be letting her get to me tonight.

You give yourself a half-hearted pep talk that works, to an extent. Using your fingers to brush out strands of hair off your sweaty forehead and straightening your skirt out, you convince yourself to emerge from the bathroom and hunt down the man who led you to face Ellie.

You find him easily, not far away from the spot you had previously occupied from the wall.

“Jess…” You begin as you approach the raven-haired boy.

He was conversing with a frat boy, yours and your friends’ purses now either draped on his shoulder or slung around his chest. You would have giggled at this adorable image if you weren’t slightly ticked off by him.

Jesse sees you approaching and calls your name, beckoning you towards him and his conversation partner.

“Yo, tell Adam about Ellie’s dope ass joints that she laces with that lavender shit.” He points at you with his thumb. “Her idea, originally.”

“Huh,” Adam says. “Kinda cool. Not something I’d do for myself, but I know she’s always got primo shit. Must be a nice touch with the strains she got.”

You let out a noncommittal “mhm” and look back at Jesse, who has a sympathetic and apologetic smile on his face.

“You irritate my life, Jess,” You say, leaving out the guy Adam from the conversation.

“Sorry. It’s all out of love, my friend.” He replies, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Did you end up taking a hit?”

You glare at him and he chuckles.

“Thought I’d try. I’m sorry.” He says, sighing in defeat. “Dina tell you we’re going with you guys to Sterling’s after this?”

“Is she coming along with us, Jess?”

“We’re a codependent trio, so yes. Hey, that rhymed.” He snickers at his own joke.

You groan.

“I think I’ll head home instead.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. Just hang out with me and Dina. We really miss you and we’ve barely seen you. You don’t have to talk to her.”

“What happened to being a codependent trio?” You challenge.

“Our marriage counselor said to work on boundaries,” Jesse says jokingly.

You sigh.

“You wanna go now, then?” You say, relenting.

“Sure, I’m craving a strawberry milkshake real bad.”

You roll your eyes.

“Let me go round up the girls. We’ll meet you outside?” You say, reaching for the purses.

He waves you off and says, “I got it, girl. See you in a sec.”

You give him a tentative smile and proceed to the basement of the frat house.

After you successfully herded your friends, all of whom were at different levels of drunkenness, you ushered them upstairs to the living room and towards the front door.

You had your arm around one of your more intoxicated friends, who all of a sudden exclaims in her drunken stupor, “Babe, we should come to this frat’s parties more often! We haven’t been since freshman year!”

This stops you in your tracks, almost pulling your friend into you.

Ahh, you thought.

That’s why you’d been apprehensive about this house since arriving. This was the very same frat house where you’d met Ellie Williams for the first time. You met her the same night you met Jesse. You’d spent an hour or two conversing with her on a shabby couch in that same living room. The same house where those ocean green eyes pierced yours for the first time. The same house where you’d begun a “friendship” with someone who ultimately broke your heart.

Uttering a quick apology to your friend, you nudge her forward to exit the house you had no desire to remain in.

The twenty-minute journey from the frat to Sterling’s Diner did not seem long enough to you. Though you were longing to sit and rest your sore feet (you gave up a seat on the bus to one of your drunker friends who could barely stand upright), you preferred moving in a rather large group of friends where you could easily situate yourself away from Ellie if need be. You remained at the front of the group with your friend Astrid, arms linked as you trekked towards the bright lights of Sterling’s.

You all sit at a long makeshift table formed by three smaller tables pushed together. Your anxiety ramps up when Ellie sits across and a seat to the right from you. Refraining from glancing her way would be much more difficult now that you were both in each other’s line of sight.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

Your group was embarrassingly loud, disrupting the peace of the few restaurant-goers nearby. You silently make plans to pardon yourself to the bathroom and hide out for a good 15 minutes before you make an excuse to go home to your apartment.

Some of them are sober enough. As long as I check up to make sure they all get home safe…

Deciding not to order anything to avoid waiting til the end to pay, you tell the server that you don’t need anything. But before they can walk away, Dina, who was sitting directly across from you, interjects.

“Oh, she’ll just get a hot chocolate.”

You look perplexed.

“Dina, I don’t need anything.”

“I know for a fact that your tits are freezing cold and you need to warm up. Besides, I know you love hot chocolate.”

“D!” You whisper, embarrassed at the loud comment about your tits in front of the server. Dina snickers.

You smile at Dina’s thoughtfulness, though you’re slightly annoyed that your escape plan was thwarted. In the corner of your eye, you think you see Ellie make a certain facial expression. But refusing to look her way, you can’t make a guess as to what it was.

Not wanting to hold up the server’s time by arguing with Dina, you give a quick thank you and glare at your nosy friend.

“You and Jesse are really competing to see who is my number one tormentor tonight.”

Dina rolls her eyes playfully, “Why? What did our sweet Jesse do this time?”

You have to catch yourself from blurting out Jesse’s earlier endeavour. Despite the commotion your friends were making, you’re certain that your voice is still within Ellie’s earshot.

“Uh… ask him later.” You say, making eye contact with Jesse, who sat to Dina’s right.

He smirks and you grimace.

It feels like a lifetime waiting for everyone’s order to arrive. You sat awkwardly sandwiched between your friend Astrid to your right and Frat Guy Adam to your left. You stay quiet, not engaging in much talk. Dina and Astrid would attempt to pull you into their respective conversations, but you merely give slight nods and smiles and an occasional “mhmm” before going back to scrolling on your phone.

After exhausting all forms of social media that no longer entertained you, you sigh and place your phone down on the table.

Frat Guy Adam notices your movement and glances at your lockscreen.

“Boyfriend?” He suddenly asks, nodding towards your phone.

“What?” You say, startled.

“Dude on your wallpaper. Where is he tonight?”

Your lockscreen photo was of you hugging your favourite cousin, Rafael, and it was taken after your high school graduation.

“Oh.” You gulp. “No, uh. Older cousin. No boyfriend.”

“Really?” He says suddenly interested. He turns in his seat to face you better.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“Not really the boyfriend type of girl…” You mutter.

“Why not? You’re pretty hot. Can’t be that hard to get a date.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a lesbian. Don’t need a boyfriend.” You say quietly but assertively.

Adam tsks, saying, “Man, really? Didn’t clock you as a queer.” He adjusts in his seat to his original position, chatting instead with his friend on his left.

You freeze. You knew Adam didn’t exactly intend for his words to be malicious, but you’ve heard enough comments like this in your life to understand its meaning.

No one else around you could hear his comment over the buzz of conversation. Except…

Your eyes meet Ellie’s, you having momentarily forgotten that this was what you were trying to avoid. It was strange to look into a familiar face and see an unfamiliar expression.

What was she thinking? Is that concern on her face? No, that’s something else…

You break her gaze, deciding that she’d only looked at you because you accidentally looked her way. She probably didn’t hear what had happened; and even if she did, it was none of her business.

Before you can even decide whether or not to say anything to Adam, everyone’s orders come flooding out. Your hot chocolate was placed in front of you, and ignoring Ellie’s piercing green eyes, you just stare at the steam rising from your cup.

You were growing more uncomfortable every second that passed. Being neither drunk nor high, you sit soberly in your seat and wish you hadn’t come out tonight in the first place. You suddenly feel tears welling up in your eyes, unsure if it was from your anxiety or Adam’s comments.

Muttering a brief “be right back” to nobody in particular, you quickly make your way to the two-stall women’s restroom. You nearly collapse against the bathroom door once it closed behind you. Burying your face in your hands, you try not to break down into tears of frustration.

After several moments, you pry yourself off the door and dare to look at yourself in the mirror. You look like a more tired, sweatier version of yourself from earlier in the night. Sighing, you grab a paper towel and dab it underneath your eye to remove any dripping eyeliner.

You nearly jump and poke your eye when the bathroom door suddenly opens. You feel your throat close up and your heart clench once more.

Ellie.

author’s notes:

this is the first ellie fanfic i’ve written and posted on here so be kind pretty please but feedback is very much welcome! i actually have more than one chapter written out already shdjfjf but hopefully this does well and i’ll post the rest if people would like!

i plan on making this a kind of long series, so i hope people will like that sgdjfjf (sorry, i know i should just post and not apologize and look for validation, but i haven’t written in a while!)

@lonelyfooryouonly asked me on my main to be tagged when i finally start posting my own fics on here, so here bby ty for the push! can’t wait for the next chapter of selfish to come out hehe

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes

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hanjisunglover · 6 months

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pairing: boyfriend!Han Jisung x reader genre: smut warnings: oral receiving (f), pet names (sweetheart, good girl, love, pretty girl, exc..), eat cumming, biting kink, soft Dom!jisung, sub!reader.

from everything that jisung likes about you, your thighs are his favourite part. he doesn't care if they are thicker than his, or the way that they are just squeeze in your jeans, even better.

I know for sure that jisung was staring at them at the first date that you wear that jeans that just fit your waist perfectly but squeeze your thighs a little bit more than usual. but of course, he didn't say anything.

and then when the dates started to be sleepovers, it was about time. "may I ask you something y/n?" his voice arrive at your ears softly, like that inside him he's not ready to really ask you about this.

you move your gaze to his, finishing to fix your shirt, pulling it more down on your thighs, trying to cover them as much as possible, "you don't have to if you don't feel about that."

"shut - please. can, can I lay between your thighs?" You knew that was coming, the long stares at your legs during the dates, the casually caress on your thighs, that was pretty clear but you were too coward to ask for more. because you want more. "you want what?"

Jisung sigh. "can, can I lay between your thighs?" his eyes are on you, just looking carefully at your movements, the small change of position would make him go crazy, and then you just spread your thighs, to make room for him in the middle. You never had someone that loves your thighs as he does, never had a boyfriend to be honest, he was the first for everything.

With his brown doe eyes he just put himself between your thighs, his head on your stomach, your thighs on his shoulders and his hands start to massage it. That's it. you think, that's it.

You knows where this is gonna take, but you can't just stop yourself from stroking his black hair, his features relax under your touch, the whole room get quiet for a bit. But you can feel your cunt start to pulse for the feeling of having him this close of your pussy that makes you squeeze his head lightly. Jisung bite your inner thigh playfully, "what's wrong sweetheart?"

Moans leaves your mouth as he bites your thigh, the boy look up at you with his chubby red cheeks, "ugh, jisung it's hard when you are, right there."

"right where? — oh." As Jisung turn to look better at you his nose can smell your excitement, it's clear and strong, his arms slowly hugs your thighs, "do you want me to, do something for you love?"

You starts to whine, nodding and hoping that he's gonna do something and quick, because you can just can't keep it quiet. "yes please."

His big smile slowly get hide when his face get closer to your inner thigh, he start to leave slowly kisses, just some pecks in the area that he bites before, "fuck, saying please like a good girl, makes me hard."

You chuckles but then suddenly your breath catch your throat when his nose press against your panties, making your mind start to feel dizzy about it, "shit."

"na-ah babe, no bad words, you're too pure for that," jisung laugh quietly as he grab with his hands the sides of your panties, ready to take them off straight away. Your hand slowly reach down between your legs, moving aside your panties, showing your pussy to him, "I don't have enough patient for teasing Jisung, please."

Jisung cover his face a little with one hand as his cheeks get reddish, but he nod, moving your legs spread for him, "so impatient."

"yes I am, — just please."

"please what?" you groan feeling tears in your eyes for how badly you want him, and he notice, starting to stroke your thighs with his hands, leaving a light kiss on your clit, "I was just play around love, I'm gonna take good care of you." Jisung stick out his tongue, taking a slow taste of your excitement.

He moan softly of pleasure, he's not even touching himself, but your cunt it's making him already loosing it, "tasting amazing, amazing pussy for me," he murmurs as he close his eyes. He looks like a thirsty man, drinking from your hole as he never taste something that good.

Your hands between his hair, grabbing them and pulling them lightly when he touches the most sensitive spots around your clit, you can tell that the fact that he's a rapper and he can hold his breath for longer time that the others, works good on this. He just can't get enough, his tongue moves back and forward from your clit to your hole, his breath gets heavier.

"please cum in my tongue, wants everything you can give me," he mumble totally focus on his action, you gets shivers all over your body for his soft but firm licks. Jisung looks like he just want to do this for hours if you give him the chance to.

"fuck — sorry, baby, baby please I'm, 'm so close.." His tongue start to create circles around your clit, sucking it gently as he squeeze your thighs closer to his face, you follows his movements, squeezing your thighs around his face, making him moan against your cunt and you just can moan louder for the intensity.

Your legs start to shake a little, arching your back and all you can think it's jisung's skills in your pussy. Jisung suddenly open his eyes, for the first time since what feels for you hours of eating you out. He wants to see your expression when you cum on his face.

Closing your eyes, moving your head back as you give a last higher moan before cumming on his tongue, his mouth open as he's pulling your hips closer on his face, his eyes rolls at the taste of you. Too good to be true for him.

He move his tongue against your hole for the last time before moving back just enough to be away from your cunt, you're breathless as you look down at him, stroking his cheek with one of your hand, smiling weakly from the intense passion. "thank you ji." He let his head rest on your thigh, stroking your hips gently as he breath heavily.

"you're such a pretty girl, next time you're sitting in my face." Jisung says with such a cheeky smile, biting your inner thigh with a giggle, you moan contrary as you squeeze his head again with your thighs, "stop biting!"

"tasting too good to not do it."

author note: I just love jisung pussy drunk + thighs lover that was a need 🙏🏻🙏🏻

@imastraykidsfan

#han jisung #stray kids #han jisung stray kids #han jisung skz #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung smut #han jisung x y/n #han jisung headcanons #han jisung fluff #jixauro

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ladymunson · 7 months

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Mile High 18+

Fic summary: You Spot the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in the business class lounge at the airport and then he happens to be on the same flight as you. Things are about to get very interesting.

A/N: This is a short one shot Drabble, there will be no additional parts. No use of y/n. No minors, shoo!

Warnings: strangers to lovers, SMUT 18+, mutual public masturbation, public nudity, airplane bathroom, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) cream pie.

Word count: 1244

I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

Support content creators by hitting that reblog tab.

You arrive at Boston Logan airport an hour earlier than you need to, and spend time in the lounge after checking in. It’s mid evening so they offer you a glass of wine, business class sure has its perks. You take a seat at the bar and sip on your wine as people come in and out of the lounge. While waiting for your flight to be called, something catches your eye. He enters the lounge and stops, standing over by the door, his expensive suit opening up as he stretches revealing his tight and broad shoulders. He’s fucking gorgeous! And possibly the sexiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. His beard full and luscious, his eyes a sparkling blue matching his tie.

He looks around the lounge and stops when he sees you. The top button of your white blouse is open, he catches a glimpse of cleavage, his eyes widen as he continues staring at you.

Your black skirt was short enough to reveal your thighs and he looks at your legs, the black stilettos on your feet... Hunger in his eyes. You both eye fuck each other across the lounge, he keeps his distance and doesn’t approach, at which you quickly glance down at his left hand that is holding a briefcase. He’s not wearing a wedding ring.

The flight is called so you pick up your handbag and head towards the door, brushing past him. Making sure there was a little contact. You can feel the electricity as you touched, had he felt it too? Doesn't matter you think to yourself, because you won't see him again.

You board the plane, the flight attendant pointing you the the right direction. After settling in your seat, you feel someone was standing next to you, you think it might be the flight attendant. But it isn’t... It’s him.

He smiles at you, and you return his smile.

The flight attendants go through the preflight routine which you’ve seen many times before, so you concentrate on the book you’re reading.

As the plane takes off, the rumbling of the engines starts to turn me on. A dampness in you underwear causing you to shift. You haven’t realised, but you’ve been caressing your collarbone and the contours of your breasts (you do that sometimes when you’re thinking about sex). But he’s noticed and been staring at you.

He looks a little uncomfortable; you look around to see if you can figure out why.

Then you see it...

The hard on he had been trying to conceal with his copy of 'The Boston Herald’.

You look him in the eye, and smile. A boldness building within you, so you kick off your shoes and rearrange yourself into a more comfortable position with your legs crossed. So, he can see your black lacy French panties. You pull the gusset of them side to side gently, enjoying the friction against your pussy.

His hand disappears underneath the paper and you hear the sound of a zipper.

He was stroking himself under there, and you couldn't see.

You pull your panties to one side...

For a few seconds you just let him look at your Pussy, wet and pulsing, aching for his touch but having to make do with your own.

You begin to rub your clit, gently at first but soon that wasn't enough. You raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

He lifts up the paper to show you his cock, it’s large and thick and looks like it could give you immense pleasure. His hand works up and down on his shaft, as you work mine on your Pussy. Doing this in such a public setting is so naughty but so exciting, it’s heightening the pleasure you’re feeling.

You’re seconds away from coming; he must've sensed it cos he snatches you hand away and transfers it to his cock...

When your fingers close around his warm skin, you hear him moan.

Then he throws your hand away, zips himself up, and moves out of the chair.

Why?

Disappointment must've shown on your face because he winks and nods towards the lavatory door.

You can’t follow straight away; you don’t even bother to put your shoes on when you get out of your seat and walk down the gangway towards the lavatory.

You knock lightly on the door, the door folds to one side and a strong arm pulls you in...

He’s got his pants down round his ankles, his beautiful dick standing to attention before you.

He pulls you close and kisses you, urgent and probing around in your mouth.

He sits down on the lavatory seat and pulls you towards him; he rolls your panties over your hips, and you step out of them.

You part your legs so they are either side of his lap and lift your skirt so he can see how wet you are....

You lower yourself down onto his cock, letting the head rest against your dripping cunt for a moment. You had meant to hover, teasing him but you can’t. You desperately need him inside you.

You lower yourself down, letting his cock prise open your wetness and penetrate you. Filling you up, giving you what you need.

You lift yourself and begin to pound your Pussy onto his cock, hard and fast.

He bites your hard swollen nipples through your blouse, which sends thrills through you...

One hand on the mirror steadying yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. Your other hand on his shoulder.

You kiss again. His hands on your hips, guiding you up and down, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

He starts rubbing your clit making you moan, you started squeezing your cunt around his cock, making him groan as he starts to shake...

You can feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, and from the look on his face he isn’t far off either.

"The plane will begin its descent in ten minutes, please return to your seats" came over the tannoy. It was now or never, you grind your pussy down hard onto him, his pubic hair tickling your clit and triggering your orgasm..

You come hard; the contractions of your cunt sets off his climax. You come together, his cock filling your pussy with hot white cum. He lets out a long moan, your head buried in his shoulder, muffling your screams of pleasure.

You take a moment to catch your breath before you stand up and he helps clean you up and rearrange your skirt down, gives you a quick kiss and shoves you out of the bathroom into the corridor.

Walking in a straight line after such an intense orgasm is a challenge but you manage to get back to your seat. By the time you check your make-up and straightened your blouse he was back in the seat next to you.

When you disembark the plane, he walks straight past you and gets into a car that’s waiting for him.

'There he goes' you think 'The best fuck of my life.'

You smooth your skirt down and stop, feeling something, so you reach into the pocket of your skirt and pull out a business card, Andrew Barber; Assistant District Attorney. His cell phone number is written on the back, along with the hotel he was staying at and room number.

'I know what I'm doing tonight' you think to yourself smiling.

THE END

Tags: @cevansbaby-dove @patzammit

#andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #ladymunson

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sunlightmurdock · 8 months

Text

The Odyssey | 0.6 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

In Verona, you’re an outcast. Bradley’s determined to make up for the day before.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance, professor / student relationship, age gap ( 22 / 33), will be smut, virgin reader, swearing, infidelity, them actually getting along for once?, kissing, bradley has a corruption kink and doesn’t know it. wc: 7.35k

…

“I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now.” His voice grew agitated on the other end of the line. Understandably, he expected a delightful update on your sunny summer in Italy and was blindsided by you bringing up a fight from last year. “It’s been months. We’ve moved on.”

The phone pinned between your cheek and your shoulder, you fidgetted nervously with the band around your finger, inspecting the expensive diamond that sits on top of it. Hearing the annoyance in his voice, you should have stopped there, and told him that it didn’t matter. You hadn’t.

“I know, I know we have,” Your voice trembled. Your fiancé sighed hard on the other end of the line. “But the last thing I remember is being at that party with you. If I hurt you, Malcolm—“

“I asked you to marry me.” He blurted out, abrupt and biting. There was no point lying to you. There never had been, you would never let something like this go. He was upset. You could tell. You had continued anyway.

Your brows knitted together. “No… you proposed to me at my parents’ house. O-On Christmas Eve.”

“I did,” Malcolm breathed out through gritted teeth. Thinking of how you had humiliated him that night isn’t a fond memory. “But I asked you to marry me that night, at that party, without a ring. I told you that you’re the love of my life and I asked you to spend the rest of your life with me.”

You had closed your eyes, trying to force yourself to think. You still don’t know how anyone is supposed to reply to that.

“And you cried your eyes out, then left me standing there like an idiot.”

This morning, you’re sitting silently in a library with a notebook in front of you, trying to fathom how you could have done that to him. You wonder if he told anyone but you about that. You had spoken with your mother about marriage not long before he had proposed on Christmas Eve — you had agreed to marry him enthusiastically that day.

How is it that less than a month before, he could have asked you the same question, and your instinct was to run? — Not only to run, but to kiss another man. To spite Malcolm maybe. To act out. Whatever it was, you can’t pretend that it isn’t a relief to know that Bradley wasn’t the reason.

You hadn’t kissed him because he mattered, just because you were drunk and scared.

He’s standing at the end of the table now. Is long and wooden, not dissimilar to the one in the university library. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and faded blue jeans, speaking confidently in Italian to the restoration technician that you’re here to work with today.

This is one of the first pieces of actual research that the students have been allowed to engage in so far on this trip. You’re not thrilled about it. Trying to piece together some old man’s memoirs so that Bradley can write about it.

Bradley’s in a world of his own anyway, deep in conversation about what’s in front of him. Since he got here this morning, all that he has done in terms of being a teacher was to list eight roles and tell you to decide amongst each other who would be doing what.

Deemed the least intelligent by all of your peers simultaneously, you’re just the scribe. Taking notes on observations that they have, that Bradley could one day use when he writes about this. It’s bullshit, and it doesn’t seem fair, but you won’t argue with them on it. They already dislike you enough.

And you’re still reeling from last night. No wonder Malcolm wouldn’t speak to you for three days. No wonder he hadn’t followed you out into the snow. You’d just broken his heart.

The day of no work passes by exceptionally slowly. Your only reprieve is Pasquale, telling you stories about his mother’s farm. It’s not something that you would care much about if you were back home, but here, it’ll do.

“So, what do you think of Verona?” Pasquale asks as he flicks through an anthology. His role is more important than yours and he isn’t even here for a grade.

You shoot a look towards the end of the table and watch Bradley pull a loose pair of glasses from his pocket, setting them on the bridge of his nose and leaning closer to examine a text. He doesn’t even have a case for his glasses.

“I, uh — haven’t seen too much of it yet. I stayed in last night, and I’ve been here all day today.” You explain to him, tapping the end of your pen absently against the page.

Bradley takes the page carefully from the technician and frowns as he brings it closer to his face. When he’s serious, faint creases appear between his brows, his lips point down. His eyes narrow slightly.

“You really should. It’s the city of love, you know. You could find your husband a souvenir, maybe. When we have time off tomorrow.” Pasquale tells you with a big grin. You offer him a weak grin in return. You’re lucky to even have someone that wants to be your husband after what you did. Either way, Pasquale seems to like you.

He’s about the only person here that does.

That’s only confirmed later when Bradley steps out of the bathroom in a towel and finds Luke buttoning a salmon coloured Ralph Lauren button up.

“Going out?” Bradley questions, walking over to the desk for his cigarettes before he thinks about his clothes.

“Uh-huh. We’re all going for dinner in the city.” Luke confirms as Bradley scrunches his nose at the obnoxious cologne smell coming from that side of the room.

“All of you?” Bradley checks as he puts the cigarette between his lips and lights it. Luke scoffs, angling himself towards the awkwardly short mirror on their vanity. He rolls one sleeve up to his elbow and squints.

“I’m not inviting her. They’ll kill me.” He shakes his head, glancing over at Bradley and trying to remember how Bradley wears his button ups. Sleeves rolled, definitely.

“She wouldn’t be as bad if she had friends to keep her occupied.” Bradley notes, stepping into a pair of blue boxers and draping the damp towel over his shoulder, exhaling through the corner of his mouth.

“And I wish her the best of luck in finding some. It’s not gonna be me. Anyway, I have to go. See you later!” Luke pats Bradley’s bare shoulder and steps around him, heading for the door before they can discuss this further. It swings shut behind him.

Bradley sighs, leaning his head back towards the ceiling, the lit cigarette dangling between his index and middle fingers.

As much as he would like to avoid you after you’d thrown him off of you last night, the thought of you eating alone in your room just doesn’t sit right with him. Or, even worse, you venturing out by yourself.

The thought of last night makes him want to drive to the nearest beach, dig a reasonably sized hole, and bury his head in the sand. He’s never felt dirtier. The thought that he went further than you wanted him to.

The fact that you’re his student. He doesn’t do that. He isn’t one of the creeps that drools over the girls on campus. Christ, you’re the first girl he’s ever kissed that’s more than a year younger than him. He just needs to put it behind him.

So, he pulls on a pair of faded, light blue Levi’s 501s and a white button up that’s tolerably ironed, then heads up a flight of stairs and down the hall.

You flinch at the knocking on your door.

Bradley blinks as you tug it open moments later. Then, looks you slowly up and down. You’re wearing a cute button up pyjama set. He furrows his brows at you.

“It’s 6pm.” He points out disapprovingly. He really can’t help it. He could have told you that he actually thinks the little hearts on them are kind of cute.

“So? I don’t have anywhere to be.” You answer back, frowning up at him as always.

“Yeah. About that, uh — me either,” He’s trying not to be patronizing about this. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s taking pity on you. This isn’t necessarily pity. You also just started trying in his class and it would be a shame if you quit now. “Do you want to get dinner?”

“With you?” You gawk.

He shrugs. This is more awkward than he hoped it would be, but he can’t blame you after the way things went yesterday. “Yeah. Unless you know anyone else who’d like to join us.”

“I’ll get ready.” You decide quietly. He gives you a small nod and starts to step back.

“Alright. I’ll meet you in the lobby in… twenty?”

It’s a good thing that he gets down there early, because so do you. You’re more dressed up than he was expecting, but then, so is he. His shirt doesn’t even have any wrinkles in it today.

Bradley looks you slowly up and down as you walk towards him. He doesn’t know what to call the style of dress you’re wearing. Thin straps that tie at the shoulders, a sweetheart neckline and a lightweight georgette fabric. You’re wearing a pretty necklace that compliments the neckline, elegantly small hoop earrings with pearl drops. Those are probably real pearls.

You’ve dressed the outfit down slightly with summery loafers instead of heels. All that does is make Bradley have to tip his chin down to look you in the eye when you’re up close.

“So. Do you know a place?” You exhale, hugging your purse closer to your body. It matches your shoes.

Bradley shakes his head dumbly.

“No,” He answers quietly. Then, he realizes he’s being ridiculous. He’s been on plenty of dates, there’s no reason to be nervous. Except this isn’t a date. Because you’re getting married. And you’re his student. He clears his throat like that will help clear the momentary fog in his brain. “No. But there are a tonne of places around here. We’ll find somewhere.”

The two of you step out into the still warm evening, the sun still pretty high overhead. It’s quiet out, quieter than when you had first arrived. It makes you feel exceptionally alone next to Bradley.

As the two of you walk in a painstakingly heavy silence, you consider briefly if you should apologize for calling him an animal yesterday. After all, you were the one to kiss him. But his hands are big, and they’re heavy, and you could feel them starting to trail along your skin.

You swallow at the thought, shooting a quick glance at the back of his head. His shoulders look wide, and strong, when he’s not wearing a shirt that’s a size too big. Not only could you feel his hands starting to roam, but his tongue too. That, you remember well.

It hadn’t been forceful, or even really too intrusive. Just like he would push his tongue out to wet his lips, he had pressed close to you and gently trailed his tongue along the seam of your lips. That hadn’t ever happened before. Malcolm doesn’t kiss like that. Really, he’s your only point of reference.

So, when Bradley’s tongue had flicked knowingly against your bottom lip, maybe you had parted them. Just a little bit. But then his tongue was in your mouth, trailing against your own and — nice girls don’t kiss like that. Not any nice girl that you’ve ever known anyway.

“How’s this place look?”

You’ve been following him blindly and daydreaming about his tongue long enough now that he has led you down a side street. Peach coloured stone buildings on either side, lanterns on the walls that aren’t lit yet and a string of mostly empty restaurants.

Bradley’s standing by one covered in plants. The awning is practically entirely green with foliage. The railings outside are the same, flowers tucked into small vases on each table. You’re surprised, honestly, that he picked it. It’s pretty.

You turn your head and he’s looking right at you. The first thing to cross your mind is his hands flexing around your waist, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips.

“This is fine.”

He doesn’t untuck your chair for you, but you wouldn’t have expected him too. This is the same man that would have happily had sex with a married woman on a balcony on a work trip. God, and you let him kiss you.

Bradley catches you grimacing at your menu. “What? — Not a fan of Italian food?”

You look quickly back up at him. There’s a caught look on your face that he can’t quite place. Like you’re waiting for him to tell you that you’re in trouble. “Huh? — No. I like Italian food. What are you getting?”

Bradley looks between you and the menu, wondering if he’ll ever get to a point where he understands you.

“Uh…” He has no idea. He hasn’t even read the menu, he’s just been looking at it so that he doesn’t have to look at you. He exhales. “Do you drink wine?”

Whether the wine helps is debatable. In terms of loosening the two of you up to the point that you can actually have a conversation without burning with embarrassment, it’s a great success. In terms of professionalism and keeping up with boundaries, it is not.

You’ve both eaten, you’ve finished an entire bottle of Malbec and you’re a glass and a have into the second bottle — and Bradley’s a lot funnier tonight than he is normally. There’s a connection between those two things, you’re sure.

Even if it’s just that he’s feeling relaxed enough to actually tell you something interesting about himself for once.

“I was taking a still life art class in Tuscany,” He brings the glass to his mouth and takes a drink of the sweet, red liquid. Relaxed back into the chair, it’s like you’re watching a movie star give an interview when he smiles at you. “Staying with a family outside of Siena. They had a daughter, Maria. She was about a year and a half older than I was, and um…”

He trails, biting his cheek as he sets the glass down on the white table cloth again. The candle flickers in its glass jar between you. With one leg crossed over the other, you’re watching him with your own glass sitting in your hand and a smile on your face. The pale blue of your dress makes your skin glow, your hair is tucked back on one side with a pearl barrette. Verona looks good on you.

Bradley chuckles and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, she — she taught me a lot.”

There’s a brief moment of sense where he sits back and pushes fingers through his curls, shaking his head. Where you can see it in his face that he’s telling himself that this isn’t right. You’re his student.. He exhales amusedly, “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

He shouldn’t have had his tongue in your mouth yesterday.

“You can’t leave it on that cliffhanger! Come on, I won’t tell.” You grin across the table at him and he bites his lip, visibly grimacing at the memory.

You laugh at him, watching his cheeks turn red on the other side of the table. Breeze catches your hair and brushes it back off of your shoulders. Bradley feels himself grimacing as he thinks back to that time. He can’t believe he’s sharing this with you.

“Y’know, I was in the middle of the Italian countryside but this girl was… she was experienced enough long before I met her. But her father was the town’s butcher, and he had some livestock of his own, and one day Maria and I were… fooling around in the granary…”

“Oh my god, Bradley, no.” Your eyes go wide and you sit upright, breaking into a fit of laughter again. Red faced and reliving every moment of the embarrassment he had felt on that August day eleven years ago, he can’t help but laugh with you as he covers his face with his hands.

“He came after me with a meat cleaver, screaming about how I’d, uh, deflowered his little angioletto.” Bradley admits finally from behind his hands. Even with his face covered, that red blush is already spreading down his neck and onto his chest. You watch it go between the open buttons at the top of his white button up.

The sound of your laughter in front of him is the only thing that makes him pull his hands away from his face. He’s got to see the smile that goes with it. Blinking, he’s quiet for a moment. Candlelight from the lanterns overhead and from the table bathe you in a warm light. The centuries old buildings behind you. The smile on your face. He smiles back at you.

“You know what I find hardest to believe about that story?” You ask him, smiling as you lean forwards and set the wine glass down, propping your chin against your palm.

“What’s that?”

“That you were taking an art class for an entire summer.” It just seems so out of character. He’s all about facts and analysis, using sources to come to a conclusion. Sure, his focus is literature, but so far he hasn’t seemed especially creative.

Bradley chuckles, giving a quick shrug of his broad shoulders. “I can draw. I learned some interesting stuff, got kind of good. Painting… not so much. I failed that class.”

The admission makes your jaw go slack, eyes widening in excitement. He just sits back, lips quirked in amusement as you hit the table and point across at him.

“You hypocrite! Putting love before your studies!” You accuse, grinning at him. He laughs, really laughs, leaning his head back and shaking it at you. Your mind starts to wander in the absence of his eyes on you. Him, at your age. Here in this place, taking an art class.

Maybe the two of you would have liked each other. Maybe in another universe, you would be the kind of girl to be kissing him hard in a granary on a summer day.

“I wouldn’t call what Maria and I had love.” He’s still smiling as he makes the decision. If there was ever much of a decision to make in the first place. Bradley knows what being in love feels like, both in written fact and in personal terms. Head over heels, heart-thudding devotion.

“Sex. Putting sex before your studies.” You correct yourself, still grinning as you take a sip of the wine. Bradley watches your tongue leave your mouth to catch a droplet of the aged red intoxicant from your bottom lip. He studies you from the short distance between you. Sun kissed and with the kind of smile on your face that threatens to have you spilling over into laughter again any minute now.

There’s a small silence between the two of you. The bustle of Verona at night just a few streets away. The two of you, tucked away here. It feels private. Even with the wait staff, the few other guests, Bradley hasn’t looked at anything but you in a while now.

“I just don’t get it,” Bradley says softly, staring across at you like he’s searching for his answer on your face. On a good track to finishing this second bottle of wine, you take another drink from your glass and simply raise your eyebrows at him. “Why you’re waiting until you marry this guy.”

The wine sits on your tongue, still, as you blink at him. Shit. Bradley lifts his palm in defense. This is nice, the last thing he wants is to argue with you.

“It’s none of my business, I know — and it’s your decision. I just don’t get it.”

He watches you swallow the wine in your mouth and look down at your knees, silent for a moment. While you’re thinking, Bradley’s thinking too, of a million ways to apologize and change the topic as quickly as possible.

“There are two reasons.” You tell him quietly, sounding uncertain in yourself already. Bradley’s watching you intently when you look up. “But if you tell anyone then I’ll call you a liar to your face and make this entire trip hell for you. Understood?”

His lips twitch, almost smiling. “Understood.”

“The first reason is that it’s what’s expected of me. I’m a nice girl, from a nice family and nice girls don’t have bad reputations.”

“Having sex with your long-term boyfriend would give you a bad reputation?” Bradley questions, brows drawing together. It’s times like these that you believe he grew up in California. He doesn’t understand the social lives of these North-Eastern socialite mothers.

“Yes.” You deadpan, sitting up a little bit straighter. “And the second reason is that we tried, once. And never again since.”

“Tried.” Bradley repeats to you, squinting his eyes slightly. He mulls over the word, then wets his lips with his tongue. He’s preparing to speak again.

You beat him to it, giving a calm shrug. “We were eighteen. I wasn’t the problem. That’s all I’ll say.”

His lips quirk upwards into a small smile. Your hot shit boyfriend couldn’t keep it up. Bradley’s smart enough not to say anything else on the matter, and instead asks you how you’re liking the book that Pasquale gave you. The two of you finish the bottle of wine in polite conversation.

Bradley calls the waiter over and asks for the bill. It sounds like he’s polite about it. Once it has been set down between the two of you, you’re both quick to reach for your wallets.

“I’ve got it.” Bradley waves you off, opening up a brown leather wallet. You look at him through your lashes, squinting dubiously.

“Since when are you a gentleman?” You play, lips quirked. A week ago, this would have started an argument. Maybe you’re growing on him. He just smiles and shoots you a quick wink, dropping the notes onto the bill.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He jokes back, starting to close his wallet on the other side of the table.

“What’s that picture in your wallet?” Your eyes linger on the black and white photo booth picture in his phone. Bradley’s gaze shoots between the picture and you. He pulls it from the sleeve and passes it across the table to you.

Briefly, your eyes widen. The man in the picture looks so much like Bradley that you think the woman in the picture must be an ex. And then you look across to the woman, and somehow he looks even more like her than he does the man.

He watches your lips quirk softly into a smile as you inspect the grainy picture. No explanation needed, you know exactly who they are.

“You look like your mom.” You tell him gently. Her blonde hair is settled into short curls in the picture, the man at her side is practically beaming. He looks happy in a way you’ve never seen Bradley match, maybe that’s it.

“Really? — Most people say I look like my dad.” He comments, resting his forearms on the table to lean over and examine the photo for himself. You smile at him, lifting the picture up and holding it next to his face.

There’s a brief quiet between the two of you. Bradley’s still, trying to keep his face neutral as you study the differences. His lips twitch. The serious look on your face just makes him smile. Once he’s smiling, your decision is made.

“You do,” You nod, glancing between him and the picture. “You’ve got your mom’s lips. And her eyes, I think. She’s really pretty.”

You look up, picture still between your index and thumb. He’s pretty. Tanned from days strolling around northern Italy, the golden colour to his skin just makes his freckles more pronounced. It makes his eyes less dark, more of a golden honey colour. Everything, just a little bit warmer.

Bradley’s silent for a moment, watching you watch him. You can see the idea cross his mind. He smiles and reaches out for his picture back, pushing up from the table as he sets it into the wallet.

“You want to see something cool?” He pushes the wallet back into the pocket of his faded blue jeans and the look in his eye tells you that this night is far from over.

Your instinct should probably be to reconcile with your fiancé. To apologize, maybe. But, Malcolm told you to come back with stories to tell, and hiding in your hotel room isn’t much of a story.

The smile on your face is answer enough, Bradley nudges his elbow into yours and rests his hand against the small of your back to guide you in the right direction.

“It’s not that far, I promise. Across the bridge and up some steps.” Bradley tells you, dropping his hand from your back once you’re walking at his side.

He’s right. It’s really not that long of a walk at all. Not with him being your tour guide every step of the way. He walks you across the Ponte Pietra, which is a stone bridge built in 100 BC, making it the oldest bridge in Verona.

From there, it’s a short walk through some more paved streets and up some steps to the Castel San Pietro. Of course, not without first hearing a brief recount of its history. Bradley doesn’t really know much about this spot, much more than he has picked up as a visitor in past visits anyway.

Still, he’s a firm believer in leaving a girl impressed on the first date. He’s able to answer every single one of your questions with ease. As he had hoped, you sit at his side on a stone wall, facing the city, impressed.

It’s after a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you that you ask him a question of your own.

“Do you believe in fate?” Your cheek presses into the muscle of his shoulder, staring out over the lights of the city. Bradley exhales an amused noise from beside you. Like the notion itself is something to laugh at.

“No. Do you?”

“I haven’t made my mind up yet,” You tell him, kicking your feet just slightly. There’s more of a breeze up here, a slight chill now that the sun is down. “Plenty of intelligent people believe in fate.”

He nods at your side. “Of course.”

“Shakespeare did. Romeo and Juliet’s all about fate.”

He makes a sound, but doesn’t shake his head. “It’s about human will and making the wrong choice.”

Bradley has a way of replying when it comes to discussions like this that makes it sound like he’s correcting you when he’s just stating his opinion. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and instead lift your head to look at him.

“Okay, so the prologue of the play tells the audience exactly what’s going to happen. It doesn’t just foreshadow, it explicitly tells us that the two families hate each other and that the lovers will die. Right?”

“Right.” He confirms to you with a brief nod.

“‘Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife’. The feud would never have ended if they weren’t to fall in love and die. The entire structure of the play is this tragic fate that neither one can escape from.”

Bradley’s eyes flicker over your face. He turns his head towards the city and smiles. “I know. I wanted you to explain it and I feel like I can’t get a straight answer from you unless I piss you off sometimes.”

Your mouth gapes. Bradley flinches as you jab a finger into his ribs and laugh at his side, making him turn back towards you grinning. He chuckles along, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you just quoted Shakespeare at me. I’ve been busting my balls trying to get you a C in my class and you’ve got passages from Shakespeare memorized.” He muses. When he turns his attention back to the city this time, he leans back on his palms to observe it. Your cheek presses softly into his shoulder once more.

He feels you squeeze closer to him for warmth.

“My grades weren’t ever bad. I still got into an Ivy League. I’m not dumb.” It’s playful in the way that you say it, but you’re not joking.

“No, you’re not dumb.” Bradley agrees. You’re just wasting your potential on being nothing but that kid’s wife. He keeps his mouth shut. Even though the two bottles of wine are telling him that you need to hear it, he’s got enough sense not to.

Bradley lifts his palm and drapes his arm around your shoulder. You shift closer, pressing into the warmth of his torso. Silently, the two of you look out over the city.

You set the curve in your English literature classes once upon a time. Back when you were still trying. Your work was showcased at school fundraisers. It’s easy to convince yourself that you have wholeheartedly believed in every decision you have made so far. That at this age, you have no regrets.

If that were true, you would have been happy the first time that Malcolm had proposed. You wouldn’t have kissed Bradley. You wouldn’t have done it again yesterday.

This doesn’t feel like the right decision either. It can’t be, when it would cost you everything back home.

A light turning on in a bedroom across the river catches your eye. From here, you can’t see much other than her silhouette. A woman, changing alone in her room.

Turning your attention instead towards the sky, you think about the fate Shakespeare wrote about. Ill-fated love that ultimately leads to death, but is inevitable.

Malcolm wouldn’t lead you to your death. Life with him would be safe and comfortable. Close to home with a pleasant income — in-laws that get along with your parents just fine. And yet, that fate does nothing but make your heartbeat thud in your ears.

“You know that Shakespeare wasn’t the first to write about the Montagues and the Capulets?” Bradley interrupts the silence and almost makes you jump out of your skin. Your fiddle with your cuticles, staring down at your knees.

“Really?”

“Dante.” Bradley answers quietly. “This poem he wrote in the fourteenth century that he wrote, the Divine Comedy, he wrote about two warring Italian families. The Montagues and the Capulets.”

His thumb strokes softly at your shoulder as he nods his head. “Like two hundred and fifty years before Shakespeare did.”

“So?”

“So?” Bradley scoffs, pulling his arm back from your shoulder and squeezing playfully at the nape of your neck. You turn and find him looking at you. Your lips twitch. “So, I��m sharing a fun fact with you. So. You’ve got an attitude, you know that?”

The sun is down now and the thin tie straps, the soft georgette fabric, neither does much to ward the chill of the evening air from up where you’re sitting. Even pressed into Bradley’s side, the cold grazes you suddenly and makes you shiver.

“Come on. Let’s go.” He squeezes your nape playfully once more and gestures his head back the way you had come. Standing up, he almost drapes his arm around your shoulder again out of instinct. He pushes his hands into the pockets of his faded Levi’s.

Neither one of you really says anything, but the walk is far from quiet. It’s like he can hear you thinking. The soles of your cream coloured loafers are quiet along the paved streets, you trail just slightly behind him. He knows you’re just taking in the scenery, but it’s not in his nature to let someone walk alone in a foreign city after dark. He finds himself slowing to the point that he’s dawdling by your side.

“You know we have three more days here, right?” He tells you.

“I know, it’s just pretty,” You answer back, not bothering to turn your gaze back towards him. He watches you taking everything in. “Why, you have somewhere to be?”

“No, but you’re cold.” Bradley points out.

You just roll your eyes and stop walking to correct him. He bumps his shoulder into yours and grabs either side of your waist with both hands, guiding you abruptly forwards.

“Don’t argue. You’re shivering.” He leans forward to tell you softly. Biting your cheek, you push your elbow back into his stomach. He scoffs and nudges you forwards again. His hands are still on your waist when he’s guiding you through the hotel lobby and up the stairs.

Your floor is one up from his, but neither one of you says a word when he skips his all together and keeps walking. Bradley wouldn’t dare call this a date, but he has never let a woman walk home alone after a first date. He walks you to your door wordlessly.

As he opens his mouth to thank you, and tell you goodnight, he watches you pluck the silver key from your bag and push it into the lock. The latch clicks compliantly and you walk inside, leaving it open behind you. Bradley glances down at the threshold, and back at you.

“Here,” You breathe out, crossing to the small dressing table in the corner and picking up the sheets of lined paper there. Bradley rests his forearm against the doorframe, apparently taking the vampire approach after his overstep yesterday. “I finished the practice exam.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He blinks. The expectation is that you’ll turn and bring the paper over to him any second now. Instead, you turn your head and look at him over your shoulder.

“Are you going to come look?”

Fuck. Bradley nods. He swallows and dips his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans as he walks inside, a silent reminder to keep his hands to himself. You had told him no yesterday, and one mistake is more than enough. He’s old enough to know better.

His shoulder brushes yours as he leans around you to get a look at the paper. Reaching out, he rests his thumb beside the line that the first question begins. Glancing back, you watch his eyes scan the paper for a few moments.

“The first three are right.” Bradley notes. All that he can focus on is your perfume. The sweet notes, the expensive, layered undertones. You turn towards him, sitting down on the edge of the vanity. He swallows.

“When you failed that art class, did you know you were going to fail it?” You ask him. It’s eating you up, the thought that this might all be for nothing. You don’t know what you’ll do if you fail again. This time, it’ll hurt that much more. It’s one thing to fail because you hadn’t even attended. To fail after you have actually tried, that’s another thing entirely.

“Yeah.” Bradley breathes out, offering you a smile. He nods his head just to provide additional confirmation. “I couldn’t even paint a sunflower. I knew.”

For once, he doesn’t take a shot at the effort you’ve put into this class. You’re trying. He sees that.

“But you could draw.” You recite back to him.

“Yeah.” Bradley smiles. The top three buttons on his shirt are undone, you can see that he’s still wearing that gold necklace. His father’s necklace, his dad is wearing it in that photo. His cheeks are terracotta red, warm.

“Could you draw me?” Maybe it’s not the best effort at flirting, but you don’t have much experience with that. Your first kiss was with the man that you intend to marry. You shouldn’t flirt with him. Most days you’d rather hit him than kiss him.

But, your bed is right behind him and yesterday he had you pressed into that mattress by a fraction of his weight, and his hands on your waist, in your hair. You inhale softly, met with the increasingly familiar scent of his cologne.

Bradley doesn’t touch you, but he might as well have. His hand curls around the vanity beside your knee. He leans in just a little closer and gives a small shake of his head, smiling like something’s funny. “Sorry, honey, my specialty was human form. Posing nude.”

He’s just trying to get under your skin, see how old-fashioned you really are. Maybe you’re growing used to that by now, it doesn’t take you a second to come up with a comeback.

“Did Maria teach you that?”

Bradley’s eyes don’t move, staring right at you with that smirk on his face still. He chuckles softly, then taps your knee softly. “Alright. I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you—“

“Wait,” You close your eyes and ransack your brain looking for what comes next. You know he’s still standing there, you can’t hear him moving. “What, um, what did she teach you?”

Bradley’s not stupid. Nor is he oblivious to the fact that for one reason or another, women seem to like him. He’s used to being flirted with. And he knows exactly what you’re asking of him. He’s smart enough not to tell you that the things he did with Maria would have you clutching your pearls.

Still, he’s not going to tell you no. Not when you’re looking at him like that.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he looks downwards at your knees politely pressed together. Bradley reaches out tentatively, glancing up at your face as he curls his fingers into the hollow of your knee. Your eyes are just on his face, compliant as he tugs your leg just slightly to the side to make room for him to step closer.

Between your knees now, Bradley’s hand abandons your leg. He brings both up to cup your jaw, angling your head so that you’re looking up at him. He exhales softly. You close your eyes in anticipation. He doesn’t keep you waiting long.

He leans in close and kisses you softly, tenderly. Nothing like yesterday. It’s slow, just his lips on yours. Once more, another. Then, he pulls back and gently strokes his thumbs across each of your cheeks.

He swallows softly, opening his eyes. His intention is to search your face for doubt, annoyance — whatever had caused your freak out yesterday. His mouth twitches. Your eyes remain closed, lips pursed ever so slightly, waiting for him to kiss you again.

You lift your hands cautiously from your sides, resting them against his stomach over the cotton of his button up. Bradley kisses you again, just as soft. Building into it with gradually modern generous pecks. His hands keep your face exactly where he wants it as yours ball loosely into the fabric of his shirt.

This time when he pulls back, you chase after him, a small sound slipping your lips. Bradley bites his cheek, tenderly tracing over your jaw, reminding himself to be polite.

“You really want me to show you more?” He murmurs, lips grazing your cheek. Your daren’t open your eyes, fearing that it will give away your entire being. If you look at him, he’ll be able to tell how much your heart is pounding in your chest.

He’s already got a good idea, given the fact that you still haven’t uncurled your hands from his shirt.

“Mhm.” You manage, quiet.

He leans forwards once more and kisses you again, soft, slow. You lean into him, fighting a frown as he pulls away all too soon.

“Open your mouth, just a little, sit still.” With your eyes closed, all you’ve got is his voice. You’re okay with that. It still makes you shiver. You obey, parting your lips just a fraction.

Bradley’s eyes fall down to your lips. He blinks, studying the plush skin. But again, he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He presses closer, as close as he can get to the vanity, and tilts his head just slightly. He kisses your bottom lip, trailing it with his tongue this time.

Your thighs bracket his as you try to press them together. The next kiss he comes in for, it’s the same thing. His tongue doesn’t dare venture into your mouth, or brush yours. He’s just teasing you.

His hands are still cupping your jaw, keeping you exactly where he wants you. Then, finally, he kisses you again, deeper this time. His tongue dips just a bit further, slowly, gradually.

You’re taking the sit still instruction a little bit too literally.

“Copy what I’m doing. Just slowly, like that.” He mumbles against your mouth, his lips on yours again the second that he’s done speaking. Slowly, gradually, and his tongue touches yours once more.

It strokes along the tip of yours and curls just slightly. Nothing to complex to keep up with. One of his hands slides from your jaw to the nape of your neck, sliding his fingers into your roots.

Your tongue lets his do most of the work. He’s surprised when you’re brave enough to actually copy him and curl the tip of your tongue into his. All too soon, he pulls back and goes right back to the pecking. More urgent this time, still he finds time to be tender. Soft, with you.

And yet, you pull away from him with a soft frown.

“What? — What’s the matter?” Bradley’s face creases with concern, his thumb swiping softly over your jaw as he looks for the answer on your face.

“You stopped. Was I doing it wrong?” You ask meekly.

He almost smiles, but decides against it. A sincere shake of his head works instead. He leans in and kisses you once. “No. No, you weren’t doing it wrong. I just… like to go between tongue and no tongue, I guess.”

Bradley sounds uncertain. He hasn’t ever had to explain himself like this before. This is clearly a foreign process to the both of you.

“Okay.” You breathe out. As long as you’ve got the hang of it, you like the sound of that too. You sit upright, stretching up to kiss him again. Bradley leans down. You are rendered silent once more as he kisses your forehead.

“I should go.” Before this goes any further. Before you ask me for more, because I’m really not sure I could say no. Bradley blinks as you look up at him. He almost leans in one last time.

“Yeah,” You breathe out, barely a whisper. He’s more than close enough to hear you perfectly. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest. “Okay.”

He swallows. “I… I had a really nice time with you tonight. Thank you.”

You’re acutely aware that he still has one of those giant paws of his on the back of your neck. That he’s still standing between your knees. That he’s close enough to kiss if you reached for him.

“So did I.” You answer.

Bradley trails his thumb down until he reaches the top of your spine. He finally lets go, dropping his hand back down to his side.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Right.” You agree, curling your fingers around the edge of the vanity as he takes a step away from you. Bradley offers you a small smile, and takes another big step.

And you leave it at that. He leaves, closing the door to your hotel room behind him, wandering back down to his own room. He should probably feel guilty.

Any guilt that he should feel hasn’t hit him yet. It won’t. If it doesn’t go any further than teaching you what french kissing is — then, what’s there to be guilty about?

…

Tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @thecitysgraveyard @sugarcoated-lame @kmc1989 @cherrycola27

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw x female reader #Bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #the odyssey #professor bradley

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engie-ivy · 6 months

Text

(I wrote a 'day-after-Sirius'-birthday' fic! Totally not just me being late for Sirius' birthday. Nope, not at all. This was planned. With a very Fluffy ending, because Sirius deserves happiness for his day-after-his-birthday!)

@wolfstarmicrofic 3rd: gather

862 words

Remus is doing his semester abroad, and Sirius goes to surprise him with a visit and a confession.

At Your Doorstep

Sirius tries to gather his courage. Not for the first time, he curses James Potter's name, while simultaneously thanking his lucky stars to have someone like James Potter in his life.

Yesterday was Sirius' birthday.

His birthday plans consisted of sitting at home playing sad songs on his guitar while wallowing in self-pity. James came to visit anyway. Sirius wouldn't have blamed him if he hadn't, as Sirius hasn't exactly been fun to be around lately.

Remus left two months ago to do his semester abroad. Of course, Sirius knew he was going to miss him, but god, he hadn't expected it to be this bad! He's been a shell of his normal self, acting cranky, short-tempered and withdrawn.

James did, however, manage to pique his interest with his birthday gift: plane tickets to go see Remus.

When Sirius immediately wanted to grab the tickets, James had quickly pulled them out of reach. "Uh-uh, if you want them, you must first accept the terms and conditions."

"And what are those?"

"You can only go if you promise that when you're there, you're going to tell Remus how you feel."

The prospect of seeing Remus again was too much for Sirius to resist, so he had accepted James' terms. He had promised, solemnly sworn even, something they do not take lightly, to confess his feelings for Remus.

Sirius got on a plane yesterday, flew all night, took a cab giving the driver Remus' address, and now here he is, standing on the doorstep of some student housing appartement getting ready to put it all out there for the person he can't deny anymore he's terribly in love with.

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

The door is thrown open and a lanky guy with bouncing red curls appears.

Sirius realizes this must be Fabian, Remus' roommate. Despite never having spoken with Fabian, or even having seen Fabian before, Sirius does not like Fabian. Remus talks about his new roommate just a tad too much for Sirius’ liking. 'I was having dinner with Fabian yesterday… Fabian took me to this coffeeshop the other day… Fabian and I are going to watch this movie…'

Fabian looks Sirius up and down, and then a flirtatious smile appears on his face as he leans against the doorpost. "Why, hi there. How may I help you this evening?"

"I… uhm, I'm looking for Remus?"

"Oh." Fabian visibly deflates and he straightens. "I'm sorry, Remus is unavailable today, I'm afraid."

"Unavailable?" Sirius repeats.

"Yes, he made it clear he is not to be disturbed from his utmost important task of feeling sorry for himself," Fabian says. "Apparently, his guy back home had his birthday yesterday, and when Remus didn't hear from him, he spent the day convincing himself that his crush has forgotten all about him and must have been out partying with other boys all night." Fabian rolls his eyes. "I've tried to get him out of his room, but he has opted to wallow in his misery about his unrequited crush instead."

"His…crush?" Sirius manages to say, his brain still trying to catch up.

Fabian squints his eyes and looks at him more closely. "Wait… 'tall and broad-shouldered', 'Hair the colour of the night sky falling in soft waves over his shoulders', 'bright eyes with an ever-present sparkle'..." He gasps and clasps his hand over his mouth. "Oh my god, it's you! You're Sirius Black!"

Sirius nods dumbly.

"Oh, no, no, no." Fabian hides his face in his hands and groans. Then he looks at Sirius again, pleadingly. "Please, please tell me you're here to confess your undying love for Remus, so that he isn't gonna murder me for spilling the beans?"

"Uhm, yes?"

Fabian's mood changes instantly, and a relieved grin spreads over his face. "Excellent!" He exclaims, and before Sirius can say another word he turns around and shouts "Remus! There's someone here to see you!"

Sirius hears a door open and close, some shuffling, and a moment later, Remus appears in the hallway. He's wearing pyjama pants that are too big and his most worn-out jumper with both old and new food stains, he has chocolate smears around his mouth and his hair is sticking up in all directions.

He looks perfect.

"Fab, I told you, I don't want to see anyone today. I'm-" His eyes fall upon Sirius and he immediately goes quiet, his mouth falling open.

Sirius has spent his whole flight thinking about what to say, rehearsing the words in his head, but now that Remus is looking at him, and he's looking at Remus, he's overcome with just how much he missed him. Words suddenly don't seem necessary. He rushes towards Remus, and Remus snaps out of his daze just in time to take a step towards him, before Sirius gathers him in his arms.

"What are you… How are you… Is this real?" Remus stammers, clinging to Sirius' shoulders.

"I missed you," Sirius whispers into Remus' hair. "I missed you so much. I just had to see you."

Remus lifts his head and searches Sirius' eyes, and what he finds there is really all he needs to know.

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar college au #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #supportive james potter

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nyxwanderland · 7 months

Text

♡ everything about you

pairing → gojo satoru x reader genre → fluff warnings → stretch marks, mentions of pregnancy (nothing bad) tbh idk what's the difference between being self-conscious and insecure since english is not my first language so i have no idea what to classify this word count → 1315

satoru was thrilled to finally take a break and spend his time with you and his three-year-old daughter on a vacation after all those tiring missions that caused him to come home late at night—sometimes even early in the morning—only for him to go back to work a few hours later. you definitely were as well; you couldn't wait to have your husband more to yourself (and your daughter). however, there was just one problem.

you looked at your body in the bathroom mirror with a disappointed look in your eyes. you wore a light blue bikini which satoru insisted on getting you along with ten other swimsuits that would look stunning on you—his words, despite telling him you wouldn't be needing that many.

it was perfect. it fit you just right, and your body looked better than you had expected. the color complemented your skin tone, and the bikini accentuated all your best features. you loved it.

the real problem was the stretch marks on the lower part of your stomach. you couldn't help but feel self-conscious about them, as they seemed to stand out against the flawless backdrop of your bikini. despite knowing that stretch marks are a natural part of many people's bodies, especially after pregnancy, you couldn't shake off the nagging insecurity they brought.

"i'll just wear a shirt over it," you mumbled as you walked towards the suitcase and took out a white oversized t-shirt, wearing it over your bikini. you sighed as you took a look at the mirror again. although you really wanted to go out without the shirt, you didn't feel confident enough to do so.

you heard giggles entering the bedroom, causing you to smile a bit and almost making you forget the self-consciousness you felt just a moment ago. you exited the bathroom to see your husband wearing a floral beach shirt with buttons undone, revealing his abs, and his signature black glasses, and your daughter held in his arms, wearing her swimsuit and her hair tied into two ponytails. "we're ready!" satoru exclaimed happily.

"let's go, mommy!" d/n said, her voice unable to contain her excitement.

you went closer to them and took d/n from his arms for you to hold her. you attacked her face with kisses. "you look so adorable, my love!" you said. "i love you so much."

"i love you too—ah! it tickles!" d/n said between her cute laughs and tried to move her face from the attack, unable to bear the feeling, when satoru came and copied your actions behind her. "daddy, not you too!"

you stopped the 'torture' a few seconds later, so did he. you gave your little girl one last kiss on her forehead before letting her go and making her stand on the floor. "oh, I forgot my toys!" d/n gasped and ran to her room. "how are we going to make a sandcastle without them!? please don't go without me!"

you laughed at how your daughter looked adorable running away and quickly reassured her, "don't worry, sweetheart. we'll wait for you!"

you turned to face satoru, who looked quite sulky all of a sudden. "what about me, baby?" satoru pouted, his lower lip stuck out. "i also need my kisses."

you chuckled as you cupped his face in your hands. "come here, love." you brought his face closer to yours in order to close the gap between yours and his lips.

"there," you said, smiling. satoru was indeed satisfied, as you could tell from his grinning like a child getting candy. "now let's go, shall we?"

"you're not wearing your bikini?" he noticed.

ah shit, you thought. of course, it's impossible to get away with stuff when it's satoru you're dealing with.

you nervously let out a laugh. "um, I don't feel like wearing it today..." you muttered while playing with the hem of your shirt and looking at his feet.

"but you were so excited to wear them," he said, suddenly becoming worried. "are they not to your liking? do they not fit? are they defective? you could've told me while i was—"

"it's not that, satoru," you interrupted his babble. "it's just..." you trailed off, debating whether you should actually tell him or come up with an excuse—

nah, the excuse wouldn't work. not even in your dreams.

you sighed defeatedly. instead of telling him, you took the shirt off to show the root of your worries, revealing your body.

satoru's blue eyes widened and his breath hitched a little. although he had seen everything of you, you never fail to make him go crazy and take in all of your beauty as if he was looking at you for the first time.

you were looking at him expectantly, waiting for his response. your husband cleared his throat. "what's wrong with it? you look gorgeous."

you couldn't help but blush. you receive compliments every now and then from him, but they make your heart flutter every time. you never got used to how he articulated his words just to praise you, and never will.

"can't you see?"

"see what?"

"the stretch marks."

satoru's eyes scanned our body for the marks until he spotted them. he knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. to say he was frustrated was an understatement. "what are you even saying? those marks are the best part!"

now it was your turn to be puzzled. "what do you mean? how can you possibly think these stretch marks look beautiful on me?" you asked, as a lump appeared in your throat and you felt tears collecting in your eyes.

satoru smiled softly and gently held your hands, looking into your eyes. "to me, they are a reminder of the strength of your body," he explained. "they remind me that you carried a life—our daughter—for months to bring her into this world. they make you ten times more beautiful." he went on his knees to be eye level with your stomach.

you didn't understand what he was trying to do at first when he started leaving trails of kisses, tracing the marks on your body. "i love everything about you, baby. you don't need to worry about these little things. your stretch marks are beautiful. you are beautiful, y/n."

you couldn't help but let the tears fall, trickling down your cheeks. you felt so loved, and now you were overwhelmed with gratitude. you already knew it, but it was in that moment that you again realized how lucky you were to have someone who saw the beauty in every part of you, flaws and all. the weight of self-doubt and insecurity lifted off your shoulders as you embraced the unconditional love he had for you.

your husband stood up and looked at you lovingly as you sniffled and wiped away your tears. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a warm embrace, kissing the top of your head. "thank you, satoru. i love you.."

"i love you too, y/n."

"i found my toys!" d/n entered the room enthusiastically. "let's go!"

when you and satoru let go of each other, she saw you completely and gasped, jumping up and down. "mommy, you look so pretty!"

your cheeks turned light pink. "really?"

"yes!"

you went towards her and held her, kissing her face repeatedly once again. "you look prettier, sweetie."

you felt yourself being lifted off the ground until you realized satoru picked you up bridal style, with d/n in your arms. "let's get going, ladies." he announced.

with a smile, you nestled closer to satoru, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. "lead the way," you said playfully. as satoru carried you and d/n out of the room, excitement filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for this beautiful moment.

✩

you're beautiful how ever you are! i love you!

#hehe i love satoru #dw shibuya arc never happened #oh to be married to gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #satoru x reader

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kenposting · 8 months

Text

Every Night is Ghoul's Night

Summary: Ken leads the way to the Real World to join Barbie for a new holiday he doesn't quite understand. Once he arrives, he learns that most things in this place are hard to understand.

WC: 1.4k + there's a few 4th wall breaks so if that is hard for u don't read this!! ken goes to the real world for a Halloween party and people there have seen the barbie movie

AN: i'm leaving town for like 9 days on the 18th and i just wanted to write something silly before i left!!! after seeing the movie my friend and i talked about being barbie and ken for halloween and it crossed my mind that that would probably confuse him lol. ps thank u for all ur kind words omg!!! i love ken so much and u guys make me want to just keep writing about him CRYING EMOJI!!! thank u seriously wtf u guys are so nice to me wtf .

Read other Ken stories here: Masterlist

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀ ⋆｡°✩ 🕸⋆｡°✩⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He really was trying to understand it all. This felt like Patriarchy all over again. Turns out Halloween is not about tiny black sky dogs coming to bite you to assert their dominance (allegedly called “bats” like baseball), nor is it about evil vegetables that come to life and are filled with fire. Wild, I know.

“It’s okay you guys, I know what I’m doing, I’ve done this before.”

Ken stuck out a dismissive hand, reminding the rest of the Barbies (and the Kens and Allen) that he’s been to the Real World (and even found his way back all by himself!) as he led the way. He wanted them to feel at ease – he remembered how worried he was the first time he went to the Real World. It was not like he expected at all.

He reassured them he definitely knows what's up. Except that he doesn’t. And he didn’t last time either.

One (very long, as the passenger Barbies and Kens and Allen well exceeded the hundreds) car-rocket-boat-rv-bike-jetski-rollerblade trip later and Ken was met with Barbie in Venice Beach, just like last time.

“Hi Ken! Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! Hi Barbie! Hi Barbie! Hi Ken!”

He was so happy to see her and wanted to hear all about how she’d been and what she'd been up to (as well as thank her for inviting him and everyone over), but that must wait, lest he misunderstands Halloween any longer.

He was on a mission, that’s for sure.

All of the crew skated alongside Barbie, following her to her sorority house. Ken didn't know what that was, but he figured it didn't have to do with Halloween, so he wasn't interested. They were throwing a giant blowout party with all the students (and planned choreography, and a bespoke song) for 'Halloween', whatever that was.

His original costume was a vampire but he scared himself in the mirror and cried so he settled instead for a cowboy (not that that had to be a costume, he liked to look like that anyways).

It would’ve been more fitting to dress as a detective the way he wanted so desperately to know what all of this meant. The decorations were… so dark, literally zero sparkles, all of the people at the party looked badly injured, the music had words he’s never heard before, and the fruit punch tasted horrible – like a burning kind of horrible – none of it made any sense to Ken. And the girls were scary too.

They were all touching him and laughing. He couldn’t tell if they were laughing at his confusion or just having fun, but something about it felt weird. They were looking at him in a way he didn’t understand, and he very much sensed an undertone of violence.

“You were soo good in the movie, Ken!”

He couldn’t tell you how many times he’d heard that tonight because he had stopped counting after 20 (he can’t count higher than 20). All the girls saying that to him were wearing Barbie’s clothes, like they had borrowed them from her. He didn’t know why. Wasn’t tonight about dressing up? That’s just what Barbie wore everyday back home. Even the Palazzo pants!

And what movie? The God Father? Why did everyone keep bringing up The Movie™ like he was supposed to know what they were talking about?

He excused himself to further analyze the situation, his eyes squinting and shifting, taking in all the information. The books he read back home said a lot of stuff about magic and evil spirits, but all he knew about magic was from Magic Ken’s earring, let alone what an ‘evil spirit’ was. None of this was appealing, and if he was honest, it all sort of frightened him. Who wants to hang around waiting for Patriarchy guys to jump out and scare you all night?

Which they did. For who knows how many times (he stopped counting at 20). He knew this time they were definitely laughing at him, so excused himself.

The air was cold and the lull of the music and people talking from inside spilled everywhere he went. He couldn’t escape it. It hurt his ears, but at least it wasn’t as loud out here.

Sat on the front step outside under twinkling orange lights was a girl wearing nearly the same costume as him.

He noticed she looked like she wasn’t enjoying herself much either, her chin resting in her palms folded over her lap. The flowers embroidered on her Cowgirl shirt matched his. Even the pattern at the base of his bell-bottoms was the same on her suede skirt.

He stood beside her hesitantly, careful to not disturb her – and also worried she would try to scare him like everyone else had.

“Sorry, is it okay if I sit here? This isn’t going how I thought it would.”

“Oh, parties are for sure the worst part about Halloween.”

Ken’s head tilted to the side, curious.

“Worse than bat?”

You smiled at him, patting the porch next to you, gesturing for him to join.

“You mean bats? Like fruit bats? I think they’re cute.”

“Cute?! Bats are much more dangerous than people realize. Even I know that. You know, Zoologist is not even my job. And it is not Pumpkin Carver, which is a common misconception. Yeah – ‘cause actually my job? It’s just–”

“Beach? And what a good job you do at it? I saw the movie.”

You watched as his brow furrowed.

“What movie? Everyone keeps talking about some movie, did I miss something? All we have at home is The Wizard of Oz and The God Father and neither of those have beach.”

“Oh my gosh, you haven’t seen it? You don’t even know?”

“Know what?”

“Is that even legal? Can Mattel release this without, like, asking for your permission?”

“Permission for what?!”

You took his hand, standing up. He followed suit, proving to be much taller than you’d expected. He kind of towered over you – and you had boots on (to complete the Ken look, of course).

“C’mon, I’ll show you, but it’s going to be really weird to watch yourself and it will probably make you have some sort of existential crisis where you realize you were created by someone in the 60s.”

His face screamed confusion, but he followed you anyway, the two of you strolling through the damp rain-soaked streets from this afternoon’s storm. The theater was only a few blocks away so you didn't mind walking – and it was nice to see the decorations and lights through the windows from parties.

“Hey, did you notice we’re matching!”

“Yeah, Ken, I’m dressed as you.”

He stopped walking, his boot spurs scraping the pavement. You stopped too, turning to face him.

Tears were welling up in his eyes.

“You… You dressed up… as me?”

“Yeah. So did he. And him, and her, and them too.”

You pointed to some of the trick-or-treaters (and even their parents) that walked on the sidewalks beside you. He hadn’t noticed, but you were right. All of them… All of them were dressed as him. And even he knew choosing a costume was a very important – maybe the most important – part of Halloween.

“You mean… I’m cool enough that people here in the Real World want to look… like me?”

His eyes were shiny and huge like a cartoon character. He looked ridiculous, falling apart right here in the road, the glow of the streetlamps glittering around him, but it did pull at your heartstrings a little.

“Ken… You don’t get it. You’re an icon right now.”

“I don’t know what that word means.”

“Like… this movie. Everyone saw it to just have fun with their friends but you really changed a lot of people’s perspectives on some really important stuff. Mojo Dojo Casa Dreamhouses were flying off the shelves – gosh, you were even the most popular tattoo! You taught people something here – showed them a part of themselves they didn't know how to put words to.”

“What is a tattoo?”

You remembered it too, the first time you saw it and laughing before watching your friends bawl their eyes out towards the end. Here in The Real World you had heard about Skipper (although N-SYNC was a surprise…) so you knew it was possible, but it never dawned on you that the Barbies and Kens had no idea that you were all watching. Except Allen, for some reason.

You watched as he just got more and more confused, taking his hand once again and guiding him to the theater.

“Hey… is that a picture of me?”

“Yes, Ken, that’s an advertisement for the movie.”

He really didn’t have any idea.

“Two tickets for Barbie please!”

The guy in the booth was dressed as a vampire, Ken’s decidedly mortal enemy as of the last 24 hours. He looked awestruck.

“Is that Ryan Gosling?”

The two of you replied in unison;

“Who’s Ryan Gosling?”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀ ⋆｡°✩ 🕸⋆｡°✩⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

#ken #kenergy #barbie #just ken #ken x reader #ken x you #ken x y/n #halloween #<3

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kyleoreillylover · 4 months

Text

Anger Management

Summary: Sami is sick and tired of you and Kevin's temper tantrums. He decides to do something about it.

pairings: Kevin Owens x Fem!Black!Reader x Sami Zayn

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff!!

word count: 3,651

tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius @whatdoeseverybodywant

a/n: I love zowens. they are so babygirl and have been my brain rot for so freaking long. Hope ya'll enjoy!

"And joining me are the Undisputed Tag Team Champions, Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens, and the WWE Women's Champion, Y/N!"

You walked over to Byron with your best friends on either side of you, the three of you wearing a smile to the camera. Albiet, at least a forced smile on your face. You had too much shit on your plate and an interview was the least important thing on your list.

"Thank you for having us Byron." Sami sensed that something was bothering you and rested his elbow on your shoulder, his touch conveying comfort as Kevin wore a similar forced smile on his face. He knew the two of you were on the brink of snapping as you had over the past couple weeks, but he hoped he didn't have to call you out in front of the cameras.

"No problem. Now, I have to ask you guys, how are you feeling with the Bloodline implosion that happened and we all knew would happen." The fake smiles dropped from you and Kevin's faces ,replaced with scowls that could melt steel.

"Oh my god Byron! Who cares about the stupid Bloodline? Cause I don't care! Don't you get sick and tired of asking these stupid questions about the stupid Bloodline, cause I am!" Kevin quite literally screamed in your ears, his face already flushed red with the force of his frustration.

"Kevin, calm down," Sami said, placing a hand on his arm and attempting to diffuse the situation as the tension in the room escalated.

But you thought Kevin was right. These stupid interviewers should be asking questions about things that actually matter, like I don't know, your championships?

"No, why should he calm down! Every time we're here, it's the same damn questions. 'How do you feel about the Bloodline? What are your thoughts about the new thing happening with the Bloodline?' It's like they don't care about anything else, even though we are the champions!" You glared at Byron, frustration boiling over as you vented your pent-up irritation.

"Y/N, calm down!" Sami was like a broken record, now grabbing your shoulder and trying to ease the rising tension.

"I-I'm sorry, I just asked because of the impact that the Bloodline has on the WWE since their inception-" Bryon's apologetic crap was cut off by Kevin, who was unable to contain his frustration any longer.

"Impact? Impact? You wanna talk about impact? How about the impact we've made as champions, huh? Y/N here is the Women's Champion, and Sami and I are the Undisputed Tag Team Champions! Doesn't that matter to you guys at all?"

"Yeah, doesn't that matter instead of this constant obsession with the Bloodline?" You chimed in, huffing at the repetitive nature of the interview questions. Byron, visibly taken aback, attempted to salvage the interview.

"I-I apologize if it seemed that way. We just thought that given the recent events with the Bloodline, it'd be relevant to—" Byron stuttered, trying to justify his line of questioning.

"Both of you, calm down!" Sami's loud voice echoed in the room, finally making you and Kevin be quiet and stop losing your shit. He took a deep breath, looking at each of you with a calming yet worrisome gaze.

"Look, I didn't wanna talk about this in front of Byron." Your eyebrows furrowed and you exchanged confused glances with Kevin, unsure of what Sami was about to address.

"No no, don't hold back for Byron's sake. Say it." You urged Sami, expecting another defense of both your frustration.s

Sami let out a sigh, looking between you and Kevin. "Alright, fine. You guys have an anger problem."

"......."

"What?" both you and Kevin exclaimed simultaneously, your voices dripping with disbelief.

"Yeah, right!" Kevin snorted, shooting a disbelieving glance at Sami. "I don't have an anger problem. I just don't tolerate nonsense, especially when it comes from idiots."

"Exactly," you chimed in, crossing your arms. "I don't have an anger problem either. I'm just passionate and talk loudly, Sami. You know this!"

Sami shook his head, his voice calm but assertive. "Guys, come on. Remember last week, Y/N, when Shayna accidentally spilled water on you? You nearly went off the rails, ready to take her down."

"She did it on purpose!" you exclaimed defensively, crossing your arms.

"The janitor accidentally pushed her! You saw it!" Sami countered, frustration creeping into his tone.

Turning to Kevin, Sami continued, "And you, Kevin, remember when you nearly went after Vinci for simply walking past you?"

"That baldie shouldn't have been walking past me all smug!" Kevin defended, his agitation evident.

Sami shook his head, a mix of concern and exasperation on his face. "See, that's what I'm talking about. You both have a tendency to overreact to minor things."

"That's ridiculous!" you protested.

"Yeah, we're just passionate about what we do!" Kevin added, crossing his arms defiantly.

Sami sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, here's the deal. If you both can get through the rest of tonight without snapping at anybody or anything, I'll drop it. But if either of you loses your cool, you have to admit to me that you both have a problem."

You exchanged a glance with Kevin, both of you wearing expressions torn between determination and skepticism. You guys totally did not have a problem, and you were gonna prove Sami wrong.

"Y'know what, fine. This is gonna be so easy anyways, you know why Y/N?" Kevin asked, a smug smile on his face.

"I know why. Because we don't have an anger problem in the first place!!" You paused with a smug grin on your face as you caught sight of Sami's knowing expression, the challenge set before you. "Let's get through this night without a single outburst, and then we'll see who's right."

The evening progressed, and Sami remained by your sides, observing the situations with a subtle smirk, occasionally looking at his watch as if counting down to something. You and Kevin did your best to keep your composure, but as the night unfolded, it grew increasingly challenging.

The three of you were walking down the hallway, when a technician accidentally bumped into Kevin, spilling water on him. You and Sami looked at each other in bated breath, anticipating Kevin's reaction. Surprisingly, Kevin's jaw clenched, but he managed to keep his cool, wiping the water off his jacket and giving the tech a fake smile.

"Oh, and it's ice water! You hate being wet and cold!" Sami's words seemed to make Kevin's eye twitch as you grabbed a towel, handing it to Kevin.

"Nah, it's all good! You're all good, dude." Kevin wiped the water off his shirt and forced a smile, much to the surprise of both you and Sami. You exchanged a glance with Sami, impressed by Kevin's composure.

Riddle strolled up to the three of you, flashing his trademark grin. Internally, you groaned, knowing Matt's tendency to spark off conversations at the most inconvenient times. As expected, he turned his attention to you, his relaxed demeanor exuding a laid-back vibe.

"Hey there, champs! Y/N, you're looking absolutely fabulous tonight. How about after the show, we grab some pizza and talk about the universe, man?" Ride flashed a grin in your direction, his relaxed and carefree attitude making your nerves jump.

"Umm, I'm good, Riddle." You tried to give Riddle the hint that you didnt wanna talk to him, but he didn't seem to catch it.

"Bro, c'mon, we can hang out, chill, and vibe together. It'll be totally awesome!" Matt continued, undeterred by your attempts to politely decline his offer.

"I'm really good, Riddle." You tried to signal your discomfort, but Riddle's obliviousness persisted.

"And then we can just kick it, grab a slice, and-" You cut Matt off mid-sentence, unable to take it anymore.

"Riddle, shut your mouth before I-" , Before you could say more, you glanced at Sami's expression, your words faltered mid-sentence. Panic flashed across your face as you realized what you were about to say.His raised eyebrow and warning look stopped you in your tracks. God, the hold this man has on you.

"I, uh, mean, shut up! I was just thinking of grabbing a bite with Kevin and Sami, thanks but, uh, never mind," you stumbled, trying to salvage the situation. Matt, oblivious to the tension, simply chuckled and shrugged, sauntering away in his usual carefree manner.

Sami looked at you with an amused yet knowing expression, clearly enjoying the struggle you were facing to keep your cool. "Smooth recovery there, Habibti. Real smooth."

You rolled your eyes as Kevin patted your shoulder, reassuringly. "You did the best you could with Riddle. That man does not know when to shut up." At Sami's look, Kevin shot his arms out and said defensively,

"Hey, it's true!"

Then, when you were busy doing your makeup backstage, Sami and Kevin sitting with you gossiping with themselves, Vinci and Ludwig Kaiser walked in, their smug expressions instantly causing a change in the atmosphere. You continued to focus on your makeup, hoping they'd leave without any confrontation. But that was just wishful thinking.

“Well well well, look who it is, Vinci sneered, glancing at Sami and Kevin before his eyes fixed on you. "The so-called champions, huh? How's it feel knowing that your reign is coming to an end soon?"

You clenched your jaw, internally cursing their timing. Sami linked both his hands with yours and Kevins, leaning closer as if trying to create a barrier between you and the duo. “To what do we owe this pleasure, Vinci?" Sami replied, trying to maintain a composed tone, though a hint of annoyance slipped through.

Vinci and Ludwig exchanged smug glances before Vinci continued, "Oh, just thought we'd remind you lads and the pretty lady here," Vinci smirked, his gaze lingering on you, "that our time is coming. The Undisputed Tag Team Championships are practically ours for the taking."

“Pretty lady?” Kevin muttered under his breath in disbelief, face scrunching up at the thought of someone like them flirting with you in front of him.

"You two again," You grumbled, visibly frustrated but trying your best to keep your mouth shut.

Vinci chuckled, clearly enjoying getting under your skin. “Oh, that reminds me, I got you a gift, darling.”

Kevin’s eye twitched when Vinci brought his arm out from behind his back and presented you flowers with a mocking smile, his tone dripping with condescension.

“A little something for the lady, you know, before I take your championships and her too."

You clicked your tongue sarcastically, refusing to take the flowers. “I’m good, baldie.”

Sami’s eyes darted between Vinci, Ludwig, you, and Kevin, sensing the tension thickening in the room. He moved swiftly, stepping closer to you and placing a hand gently on your shoulder, attempting to stop the escalating situation.

"Vinci, enough. Take your gifts and your talk somewhere else," Sami interjected, his voice firm trying to steer the conversation away from an inevitable explosion.

But Vinci persisted, pushing them closer to you. "Come on, don't be rude. A lady always accepts a gift."

That was the final straw. Kevin's patience snapped like a stretched rubber band. No one talks to you like that. He lunged forward, snatching the flowers from Vinci's hand. With a glare burning with fury, he threw the flowers onto the ground, stomping on them without any remorse.

“You wanna know how she feels about you? This is how she feels about you!” Kevin stomped on the flowers, his voice raised with anger as he directed his fury at Vinci. “This is how we all feel about you!”

Sami immediately stepped in between Kevin and Vinci, trying to defuse the situation before it escalated further. "Kevin, stop!"

But Kevin was seething, his chest heaving with anger. “No! I’m sick of these guys! I just wanna punch them in the face! So you know what?” Kevin grabbed his titles, pointing a finger in Vinci’s shocked face. “I am gonna punch you in the face! Me you, in that ring, right now!” Kevin left angrily, huffing and puffing. You and Sami watched in disbelief as Kevin stormed off, his frustration palpable, taking your titles and chasing after him.

At least Kevin waited until the bell rang to unleash his rage. This didn’t count, right?

As the night wore on, you both managed to navigate through various situations that tested your patience. However, the ultimate test came when Rhea, your long-time rival, interrupted you and your best friends promo in the ring.

Everyone knows you hate being interrupted!! She made her way to the ring with a smirk on her face, and her presence alone was enough to spike your blood pressure.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the overrated Women's Champion and her two sidekicks," Rhea sneered, eyeing you with disdain before turning her attention to Kevin and Sami. "And you two, still sticking around with her? Pathetic."

You bit your fist, and it was almost comical the way you were trying so hard to hold your frustration and anger bubbling beneath the surface at Rhea's derogatory remarks back. You exchanged a tense glance with Kevin, who clenched his fists but managed to maintain his composure. Sami stood between you and Rhea, sensing the rising tension.

"Rhea, there's no need for this," Sami interjected, attempting to defuse the situation.

"No need for what? To state the truth?" Rhea shot back, her words laced with venom. "It's quite clear, isn't it? Y/N here is a paper champion, and you two," she gestured dismissively at Kevin and Sami, "are just carrying dead weight. Champions? Ha!"

You struggled to keep your cool, your fists tightening at your sides. Sami shot you a warning look, silently urging you to maintain control. You tried to hold back the boiling rage at Rhea's words, but you were barely hanging on. Rhea got in your face at your lack of a response, smirking smugly, her words laced with malice.

"You know, you're just proving everyone right by staying silent. Can't handle the truth, can you?" Rhea taunted, her voice dripping with condescension.

"Shut up, Rhea." She ignored you, smiling devilishly.

"You are nothing but a fake champion."

"Shut up Rhea."

"You and your boys are nothing but a joke." Rhea's voice raised an octave, emphasizing each word with deliberate malice.

That was it. The last straw. No one talks about your boys without getting their ass kicked.

In a split second, without thinking, your hand swung, delivering a resounding slap across Rhea's face. Rhea quickly punched you in retaliation, causing chaos to erupt in the ring as Kevin and Sami tried to separate the two of you, but it was like trying to separate wild animals.

Hair pulling, name-calling, and nail scratching ensued before Sami and Kevin latched both your arms and finally grabbed you, dragging you out of the ring as security rushed in to separate the brawl between you and Rhea. The backstage area was a frenzy of commotion as Sami and Kevin struggled to restrain your boiling anger.

"Let me go! She had it coming!" you shouted, struggling against their grasp, your rage still uncontainable.

"Y/N, stop it!" Sami's voice was firm, but there was a hint of concern. "This is exactly what I was talking about."

"I don't have an anger problem! She insulted us!" you retorted, trying to break free.

The security guards stepped in, helping to separate the chaos. Rhea was being escorted in another direction, both of you yelling insults and threats back and forth.

"You psycho bitch!" Rhea screamed at you as she was being escorted away.

"Takes one to know one, bitch!" You yelled back, trying to break free of Sami and Kevins' grip, but they literally dragged you out of the arena, the camera capturing the chaotic scene as the broadcast switched to another segment.

They finally let go of you once you were outside, breathing heavily, seething with frustration, and the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

"I can't believe she said those things about us! She had it coming," you muttered angrily, pacing back and forth. Kevin was equally as angry for you, pacing with you, and Sami just about had enough.

Sami sighed, rubbing his temples, clearly disappointed but not surprised by the outcome. "Y/N, that's exactly what I was afraid of. We need to talk about this."

"Talk about what? I defended us!" Your voice raised defensively, refusing to accept the possibility of having an anger issue.

"Y/N, you lost control. And so did Kevin, with Imperium. We can't keep denying this," Sami explained, his tone firm yet understanding.

Kevin crossed his arms, looking away with a stubborn expression. "I don't have an anger issue. That was just... Imperium being Imperium."

"Guys, come on," Sami pleaded, trying to reason with both of you. "It took you both one night to prove my point."

Sami's expression was a mix of disappointment and concern. "Y/N, Kevin, this is what I was afraid of. You both need to admit that this is a problem."

"No! She insulted us! She had it coming!" you protested, grabbing Sami's hand and trying to make him see reason.

"Yeah, you know how annoying she can be, Sami. You can't expect us to just stand there and take it!" Kevin interjected, his frustration evident in his tone.

"Guys, this isn't about her. It's about us," Sami said firmly, trying to make you both understand. He squeezed your hand, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe your agitation.

"Look, I understand why you both reacted the way you did. But it's not about just this one incident. It's a pattern. We've had multiple instances where both of you have almost crossed the line," Sami explained, his voice filled with concern.

You sighed, feeling the weight of Sami's words sinking in. "I just... I hate when someone talks trash about us. I can't help but react."

"I get it, habibti. I really do." Sami put his arm around your shoulders, trying to comfort you. "But we need to find a way to handle situations like these without losing control. And the same goes for you, Kevin."

Kevin sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Fine. Maybe... maybe I overreacted a little."

Sami let out a little smile, it wasn't often the two of you admitted any fault. "That's a start, Kev." He brought him into a tight hug, rubbing soothing circles into his back as a silent thank you for his admission before turning to you, his expression softening. "Y/N, what about you?"

You sighed, not wanting to admit it but knowing deep down that Sami was right. Sami sensed your hesitation and gave you a tight but relaxing hug that left you momentarily speechless. When he pulled away, he looked at you with a gentle yet firm expression, waiting for your response.

"I... maybe I did overreact," you admitted, reluctantly conceding to Sami's observation. "But she was out of line."

Sami nodded understandingly, a small smile making its way onto his cute face at the way you were trying to come to terms with it. "I know she was, habibti. But that's what she wants. She wants to get under your skin, and when you react, she wins."

Sami paused, his eyes meeting yours, his gaze gentle yet firm. "I know you are protective of us, and I love you for that. But I don't want it to be at the cost of your well being. And my ears can't take any more screaming."

You chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Okay, okay," you relented, leaning into Sami's embrace. "Next time I'll just think of ripping of the face of whoever annoys me instead of actually doing it."

"That's all I'm asking for," Sami giggled, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. He then turned to Kevin, who stood there with a thoughtful expression.

"Kevin?" Sami's tone was encouraging, yet serious, awaiting Kevin's response.

Kevin scratched the back of his neck, his expression softening. "Yeah, alright. I'll work on it too." Sami smiled at him and leaned down to give him a platonic kiss on the cheek as well,, Kevin's anger melting away with every touch.

There was a peaceful silence until you and Kevin exchanged a glance, both of you having the same train of thought.

"But what if Rhea-"

"No."

"But what if Vinci tries to-"

"No."

"But what if-"

"No buts, guys!" Sami stopped your questions, laughing at your predictability. "Nothing is gonna happen tonight and if it does, we'll handle it together, calmly." Sami emphasized the last part, looking between the two of you with a serious look, as if daring you to object.

Kevin and you exchanged a knowing look, both of you thinking how this adorable puppy dog of a man could scare you more than any opponent in the ring when he's serious. You nodded in unison, accepting Sami's terms, knowing he wouldn't allow anything else.

Sami beamed, pleased that you both agreed. "Thank you. Now, if the two of you don't fight in the car, we can get Waffle House on the way back. Deal?"

"Deal!" You and Kevin chorused, sharing a smile at the thought of enjoying some delicious waffles after the intense night. You linked your arms with Sami and Kevin, walking to the rental car, ready to put the night behind and embrace the comfort of waffles and each other's company.

The two of you knew you'd have to eventually work on your anger, but you ignored that with the promise of delicious waffles in store for you tonight. (And maybe you'd break your promise to Sami by fighting over the bill, but that was future you's problems).

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writingsforwhatever · 5 months

Text

magnolia (m.s.) part 3

part 1 part 2

summary: reader has a friends with benefits arrangement with matt (what is there to explain?)

genre: heavy ANGST

word count: 2k

a/n: hi! please read this before pressing 'Keep reading' ~ this story was written years ago, it was for my creative writing and same as all the stories I posted here. I used different inspirations for this, from stories I've read before whether book or online. Again, this is fiction.

It's like the world had gone quiet, and she stood there, engulfed in a silence louder than any words could express. Matt's pleas echoed in the air, his distressed face begging for a response. "I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened," his words pierced through her, yet she felt numb, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Baby, please say something. I need you to say something," Matt pleaded, his voice echoed in her ears, passing through as if they traversed from one ear to the other.

She remained fixed in place, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. What could she possibly say to this revelation? Offer congratulations? As the weight of the situation bore down on her, she grappled with an overwhelming sense of speechlessness, unable to navigate the shattered fragments of their once-shared reality.

Matt stepped closer, reaching out to comfort her, desperate to alleviate the pain, she felt his arms encircle her just before her vision faded to black.

When she regained consciousness, she saw Nick sat beside her, visibly alarmed as she attempted to speak. "Oh my god, thank goodness you're awake," he gasped, gripping her hand tightly. "Matt and Chris are outside. Matt's still crying his eyes out."

She ignored Nick's intense gaze fixed on her face, feeling as though he wanted to ease her pain somehow, yet knowing deep down that nothing could do that this time. "Did you call my mom?" she asked, already starting to stand up and leave.

"No, not yet. You've barely been here for 15 minutes. You were out due to a lack of oxygen caused by the immense stress you've experienced," he explained with a worried tone, his concern evident in his eyes.

Nick knew this was something she had to accept soon; the reality Matt had created, but he could not blame her as well. It was as tough for her as it is for Matt.

"I need to go, Nick," she declared, attempting to rise despite his efforts to stop her. "I have to leave."

When she yanked the door open, the scene of Chris comforting a sobbing Matt intensified her emotions. She bolted through the hospital corridors, she heard matt's pained cries, calling out her name, but she shut them out, her own tears streaming down her face.

She couldn't return home; she knew he would come looking for her there. She went to her friend's house, 30 minutes away from the city. There, she poured out her heart, crying for hours without any sign of relief, even as her friend insisted she rest.

She was determined to distance herself but Matt persisted, bombarding her with calls and going so far as to break into her apartment, almost crossing the line. He needed to see her, just a glimpse of her. Despite his relentless attempts, she remained resolute in her decision to stay away and forget the pain she never thought is possible to endure.

The first thing she did was move out of the state. However, this did not deter Matt's persistent calls; they continued relentlessly, he had never stopped calling her, going as far as 15 times a day, which made her change her number. Every hour of every day.

His once bright apartment turned into a gloomy space, mirroring the depth of his sorrow. Though Nick and Chris tried to comfort him, Matt's agony remained a daily occurrence. When Nick mentioned hearing from a friend about her move, Matt sobbed even harder leaving Chris in a state of silent sympathy, understanding that no words could soothe his brother's pain.

As days blurred into one another, Matt felt like he was just going through the motions. Despite his family's excitement for the upcoming arrival of his daughter, he struggled to embrace the joy. What is he going to do with the photos of them on his wall? He could not believe life has turned out this way for him. He loves her so much, cut him and he'd bleed her. He found things she left behind all over his place and in his car—a few hair ties, towels, and a forgotten backpack. It felt like she had been there just yesterday, sipping coffee in his t-shirt, before everything changed.

Grace returned to Boston to be with her own family, allowing Matt the opportunity to spend time with his daughter without any hassle in visiting her. The overwhelming guilt Grace felt was beyond words upon learning the demise Matt and his love were in. Grace didn't know what to do except care for her daughter.

Both she and Matt had agreed upon a plan: they would take turns caring for the baby. Mondays through Wednesdays were dedicated to him and his family, while the remaining days were for Grace. This excited everyone despite the lingering gloom looming on Matt. His mom tried to talk it out with him what her silence means and her reasons for leaving, but he didn't want to hear it.

She was taken by surprise when fate dealt her a harsh blow, a reality she never saw coming. In the months leading to the arrival of his daughter, she felt lost—often crying, sometimes just drifting through the days. She felt numb.

She left her job in Boston and sold her apartment, a place that held memories of their love. Cutting ties completely, she changed her number and blocked everyone connected to him. When her mother visited her in her new place in Los Angeles, she enveloped her in an embrace, cradling her as though she was two years old again, consoling her like she was a child over a wound that seemed destined to never heal.

Despite the persistent ache in her heart, her sister encouraged her to visit him and his newborn child who now filled his world, claiming it was the least she could do to begin moving forward. So, she obliged, taking a flight from the West Coast, the sweltering summer heat hitting her the moment she arrived in Massachusetts.

Fate had it that his daughter was born in the summer—clear, sunny skies and laughter-filled streets. It perfectly matched the season. But for her, it was a different story. Every street she knew contained traces of their past, and every building and landmark was a reminder of memories that she wanted to forget. Her eyes welled up with tears, a silent testament to the heartbreak she carried inside.

Matt had been in touch with her sister, the sole link he had to her world. It was the only strand connecting him to any semblance of her presence—a fragment he'd clung to desperately for months. As she stood before the familiar wooden door of his childhood home, the only thing separating her from what was to come. The door swung open after just two knocks, revealing Matt at the other side, as if he had been waiting for her arrival for an eternity, almost as though he had sensed her presence long before she had even approached the house. It was as if he knew she stood outside, hesitating for the past five minutes to step forward.

Surrounded by familiar faces—Matt's brothers, his parents, and Grace tenderly cradling the baby on the couch—she felt a surge of emotions. "You came." Matt let out a breath.

She blinked at him, nodding. Not a word. None of this felt ordinary; everything was painfully surreal. Nick and Chris enveloped her in warm hugs, their knowing looks bringing a tinge of comfort in the situation. Slowly, the room emptied, leaving her alone with Matt and Grace.

"Hi," Grace greeted warmly, rising from the couch to greet her. "I'm so glad you came."

Her gaze met Grace's, her genuine welcome felt like a fragile attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between her and Matt. It was not Grace's fault that they were not official when it happened, it was his. All of this was because of him.

She reciprocated Grace's warmth, reaching out for a hug. Unbeknownst to her, Grace had been eagerly anticipating this moment—a chance to express her apologies and explanations, to reassure her that there was no cause for concern. Grace also intended to announce and let her know that she was getting married this upcoming December to her high school sweetheart with the hopes of inviting her and Matt, together.

"How are you? Congratulations," she offered with a gentle smile, attempting to break the ice. Handing over the thoughtfully chosen gift for the baby, she could feel his stare at her.

"Thank you," Matt whispered, an attempt to break through the barriers that silently stood between them. She didn't look at him. She couldn't even.

Watching the interaction unfold, Matt couldn't help but feel the weight of his breaking heart, knowing that this situation was equally tearing her apart and more.

"I've been better. Oh, and thank you so much for this! This will take time, but I'm sure she will be excited to read this," Grace said, excitement in her voice as she unwrapped the gift some more. "Oh my god! I love it."

"Yeah, it's for when she's a bit older and can already read. I remember already loving books from a very young age," she explained.

Matt's silence lingered, he wanted to say he knew that. He knew everything about her. Grace nodded appreciatively, sensing the weight in the air and offered, "Well, do you want to meet Sophia now?"

Nodding in response, she felt her heart racing as she carefully cradled the baby in her arms. As she held her, tears welled up. Sophia was a breathtaking sight—beautiful in every way. She had her father's eyes and nose, while her mother's lips and hair adorned her delicate face. Sophia's resemblance to her father was striking, almost every feature mirroring Matt's. She sat there, holding the most beautiful little girl she had ever seen, a sad reminder of what could have been with him. A life she's supposed to have.

She couldn't move, she felt rooted to the ground. "She's beautiful," she whispered softly, her voice trembling slightly, as she handed her back to her mother, fighting to contain the tears that threatened to spill over.

"I need to go. My sister—she needs me for something," she said, her voice strained as she struggled to compose herself.

"What? Stay for dinner. His mom would love to have you," Grace insisted warmly.

"No, I can't. I don't want to intrude," she declined weakly, already rising to her feet, eager to distance herself from the overwhelming ache that filled the place. Her heart throbbed painfully, yearning to be far away as possible from the man who had once been her everything. Each step away felt like a necessary retreat from the heartache, a desperate attempt to shield herself from the flood of memories and emotions that threatened to engulf her completely.

Matt's plea cut through the tension. "You're not intruding. Stay," he urged, his voice soft but desperate. Their eyes met briefly before she averted her gaze and replied, "I would love to, but I really have to go," she uttered, her tone heavy with reluctance. The air grew heavy, both of them painfully aware of their hearts breaking in each other's presence.

Without another word, she made her way to the door, already stepping onto the porch when Matt rushed after her, his hand clasping her arm tightly. "Don't go. Please," he pleaded; his voice filled with desperation.

She pulled away, continuing to walk, with Matt trailing behind. "Matt, please," she choked out between tears streaming down her face, her composure shattered.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say or do," Matt choked, reaching out to her once more.

"Please, stop apologizing," she cut him off sharply, turning abruptly to face him. Frustration evident on her face. "Just stop."

"You didn't have to leave, you know? I needed you, you know that! I need you. I looked for you everywhere!" his voice trembled, pleading for answers.

"You don't understand," she cried out, her voice shaking with emotion. "I can't handle this."

"Why? Many people make it work. Why can't we? I have Sophia now. So what? It doesn't change anything. You're the love of my life. It doesn't change anything," he pleaded, his voice cracking.

"It changes everything. It changed everything, Matt!" she replied, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and pain.

Once more, Matt tried to reason, his voice heavy with sorrow. "How? Tell me how?"

She sobbed; her voice filled with hurt. "Because Matt! It was meant to be me. I had thought this was going to be my life! This is the life you promised me!” Her words quivered. "I know it's been tough for you too, but I just can't do this."

Matt tried speaking again, but she cut him off immediately. "You just don't understand, Matt," her frustration evident, eyes wide with exasperation.

"Try me, c’mon. Tell me-" Matt's voice faltered, his brows furrowed.

"She made you a father!" she yelled, her voice quivering making Matt widen his eyes. A moment of stunned silence followed. He was frozen, tears streaming down his face, wrecked by the realization.

"I can't measure up to that! No matter what I do!" she cried out as mascara runs down her face.

"I-I," Matt struggled to find words, the impact of her revelation hitting him like a tidal wave.

With that, she walked away, leaving Matt behind, tears pouring down his face. She can hear the front door open and a concerned Chris rushing to his brother.

</3

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic #yes im crying #nick sturniolo #Spotify

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krav3nn · 10 months

Note

what iffff

you and bill had a cute little self care night! like full of kisses, face masks und little massages. just taking care of each-other after tour??

sorry if it’s bad i really am not great at requests- but i do have maybe 1 or 2 more if you need/want them💕

༉‧₊˚🕯️SELF CARE NIGHT ༉‧₊˚🕯️

UGHH I LOVE THIS REQUEST!!!! This is the best prompt ever, idk how I didn’t think of this! Your GENIUS! Thank you so much for requesting I love you pookie. Anyways, you ask you shall receive!

BILL KAULITZ X GN!READER

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

I’m so bored!” You groaned rolling onto your back on the floor “I have an idea of what we could do.” Bill said with a smirk on his face. You sat up and threw your pillow at him with a groan. “phff sorry baby I can’t help myself.” Bill says with a chuckle “yeah yeah whatever billy, do you have any REAL ideaa.” You said playing with his hair. “Hmm.. I don’t know but if anything I wanna do somthing relaxing. This past month has been exhausting.” Bill said with a sigh

You and tokio Hotel had been on tour for the past 31 days. You and bill were the singers in the band and had it rough. During the signing you would get unwanted comments, (which bill did NOT let slide) And y’all did a bunch of different concerts. Moving from place to place just tired you out. You and bill were just so glad to be back home.

At his words you sit up and gasp. “THATS IT!” You say running to your bathroom where you kept your skin care. Grabbing two silly face masks, moisturizer, and two cute little animals headbands to hold your hair back. Bill was just sitting on the couch in confusion, hearing you rustling in the bathroom.

You quickly ran bad and jumped next to him, showing him the face masks in excitement. Bill laughed loudly. “Can we do these billy?” You say shaking him. “Ughhh fine only because I love you.” Bill said kissing your head. You squeal in excitement as you hand him the two face masks. Asking him which one he wants. The dog or the cat face masks. Bill obviously choose the dog because he’s a dog person.

You also grabbed the headbands and put one on bill but his long hair with still going in his face a bit so you run back to the bathroom and get a black and red scrunchy. You run back to bill and giggled as you put bills hair up with the scrunchies. “Do I look stupid?” Bill says with a laugh. “You could never look stupid” you say kissing his lips.

You ripped the mask sheet open, at sit on bills lap to put the mask on him. “Scheisse! That’s so cold!” Bill says. “Ugh stay still you big baby.” You say with a chuckle as you smooth out the mask on bills skin and quickly burst out into giggles. Running to get your camera to take a picture of him, he just looked so silly! You ran back and took the picture of bill sitting on the couch, making a funny face with the dog face mask on him.

“Okay okay! I wanna put yours on now!” Bill said, grabbing the cat face mask and opening it. You sit crisscrossed and close your eyes getting ready for the cold that was about to envelop your face. Bill puts the mask on your face and it was indeed cold. Once it was on, you opened your eyes. Bill looked at you and laughed. “Now we look silly together!” Bill says grabbing your hands and pulling you off the couch, jumping up and down with you and just being giddy.

After 15 minutes you both took the face masks off. Bill grabs your waist and pulls you down on top of him. “Bill!” You say with a laugh as you wrap your hands around his neck and sigh in content. Bills hand massage all over your body, rubbing your shoulders, your back, your butt, you’re legs, exc. you find yourself dozing off to sleep. Every few seconds you would feel a kiss on your head, and comforting words in your ear as you and bill finally fall asleep in each others arms….

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

A/N: Again thank you to this person for requesting this. I’m sorry this took so long for me to write this and it was so short. my adhd brain kept getting distracted. Buttttt I hope this lives up to your expectations, your royalty ‼️

#bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz x reader fluff

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yuanf3 · 1 month

Text

VIXEN — HAN SEOUL-OH

2. chapter two — "heart-to-heart"

series masterlist

A/N sorry everyone for the delay, got caught up with school - anyway, here's chapter two, hope you like it <3

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The sun bore down relentlessly, casting waves of heat that seemed to dance off the cracked pavement. Beads of sweat formed on my brow and I let out a breath but remained focused, my hands steady on the wheel of the 86’ Honda Civic. I sat patiently, my eyes fixed on the men across the street, their movements deliberate as they loaded duffel bags into the sleek black SUV.

Come on, let's go already.

As they finally finished — thank fucking God — and climbed into the vehicle, I fired up the engine of my own car and reached for the burner phone, fingers dancing over the screen to dial Dom's number.

"Four's on the move," I murmured into the receiver before hanging up, my attention shifting back to the road as I subtly tailed the SUV.

Minutes ticked by, the world blurring past as I kept a safe distance and weaved through the bustling streets, the black SUV never far from my sight. Then, like clockwork, I spotted a familiar 70s Dodge and beat-up Nissan idling at the intersection ahead, and I briefly glanced to my left, catching my brother staring at me. A sudden sense of realization crept into the back of my mind. I shook my head, scoffing. Our plan was working.

Another heartbeat later, and we split off in different directions, each of us playing our part. My heart raced, fueled by adrenaline cursing through my veins when Tej's voice crackled through the radio on the passenger seat, his words slicing through the tension.

"I know y'all said they were consolidating the money somewhere, but, y'all ain't going to believe this."

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I stood under the scorching midday sun, squinting against its relentless glare as it beat down on the streets of Rio. The heat was oppressive, mirroring the tension that hung thick in the air around us. My eyes narrowed as I caught sight of the imposing building ahead, its stone facade gleaming in the sunlight — a freaking Police Station.

The irony wasn't lost on me, and I felt a wry smirk tug at the corners of my lips. Police officers bustled in and out, seeming oblivious to the criminal activity unfolding right under their noses. I wanted to scoff at the whole situation. Hernan Reyes, the notorious drug lord, hiding his ill-gotten gains right under the nose of the law. It was audacious, I had to give him that. But it also made our job that much more difficult.

"Well," Brian muttered under his breath, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, "this job just got a lot harder."

“No kidding,” I chimed in, standing beside him and crossing my arms over my chest, my expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, “We’ll have to get even more creative.”

Rome's voice cut through the tension, his disbelief palpable. "If he's moving it into a police station, he's got some serious brass in his pocket."

"Looks like this is going to be a shorter trip than I thought," Santos said in Spanish, his tone heavy with defeat and resignation. Leo's agreement was swift and vehement, "Hell, yeah, we can't do this."

“'Can't'? You mean, 'shouldn't,'" Han’s words sliced through the conversation, drawing my attention. I turned to him, a flicker of surprise at his perspective dancing in my eyes. A small smile passed between us before I quickly turned away, squashing any flicker of conflicted emotion this man’s smile stirred within me.

Before I could dwell on it further though, Dom's voice broke through the internal turmoil. "I say we stick to the plan."

"You say what?" Roman's incredulous voice broke the silence, injecting his trademark skepticism. His words drew my attention, and I turned to him, intrigued by his reaction. He looked at Toretto as if the man lost his mind. Couldn’t blame him.

"This just went from Mission: Impossible to Mission: In-freaking-sanity," he continued to exclaim, his frustration evident in his tone.

I exchanged a knowing glance with Brian, a small smirk playing at the corner of my lips. Roman's dramatic outburst never failed to entertain.

"Whatever, man. I ain't scared, I'm just letting you all know, going in that building is crazy," he finally declared. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked away.

My brother followed his suit as he muttered, "I got this.”

Aware of the moment of silence and a whispered conversation between Leo and Santos, I stepped closer to Dom, the midday sun beating down on us, casting harsh shadows across the pavement.

"Don't worry about him," I said, my voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Pearce is a full-time drama queen, but he'll come around. Besides, we’ve faced crazier situations than this before."

Dom nodded, his expression still serious. "Yeah, but this time we're walking into the lion's den. Reyes isn't going to make it easy for us."

I couldn't deny the truth in his words, but I had to maintain some semblance of optimism.

"True, but that's never stopped you before. You've always found a way to come out on top,” I replied, my tone firm, injecting a note of reassurance into my voice that I hoped would bolster his resolve.

"We gotta make sure everyone's on board before we move forward,” he said, his gaze scanning the scenery ahead of us. He seemed lost in his thoughts as if this job put more pressure on him than anything ever before but he’s been like that since I’ve met him. I guessed losing the love of your life had that effect on you.

I’ve never gotten a chance to meet Letty. It was ironic actually because my brother met up with her quite often in our apartment during her undercover work to take down Braga but I was either out with friends or working. Brian sometimes shared a few stories about her from the time when he wanted to make a detective, how he always thought that Letty had seen right through him but she never said a word. Things would’ve been different if she did. That’s why in some kind of a twisted way, I owed her.

"Agreed," I affirmed, crossing my arms on my chest and then shrugged, following Dom’s gaze. "No biggie. Just remind them of the 11 million they're getting."

My attempt at levity didn't go unnoticed. I grinned and watched as a brief crack in his serious demeanor appeared and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Bullseye.

It was good to loosen up a bit, especially during moments like this, so I liked to think that sometimes optimism was the best thing one could ask for in times of struggle. And I was here to provide it.

Because God only knew how much I needed it.

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The dimly section of the warehouse cast shadows across our faces as we gathered around the table. Out of pure coincidence, I stood beside Han, my senses on high alert while the place seemed to shrink with every second that went by. I felt like I was sixteen again, having a crush on a boy who helped out in Brian’s garage part-time, only to find out he was gay and worked there to ogle my brother. Tough times. Learned my lesson, never again.

That’s why irritation grew inside me like a parasite and the uncomfortable feeling of awkwardness washed over me as the scent of his perfume lingered in my senses and my attention was divided between the man to my right and the task at hand. His presence was like a magnetic force I couldn't ignore, even as I desperately tried to focus on Mia’s briefing.

"The beauty of public offices?” She leaned over the table, a roll-up in hand, exposing the blueprints of the Police Station we wanted to break into. I was aware of the fact of how ridiculous it sounded. “Public records."

Brian's finger jabbed at a point in the labyrinth of walls and measurements. "This is where he's keeping the money. The vault in the evidence room."

“Um. Uh, yeah. Can I get everyone's attention, right here, for a second?” Tej interjected, raising his finger. “We're talking about breaking into a police station.”

Silence fell upon us as everyone waited for him to elaborate. “Is anyone listening to those words? Anybody? Popo? Five-O. One-time. Pigs. People we don't like.”

He’s got a point.

"You know, police stations are designed to keep people in, not out,” Han spoke calmly, glancing toward Dom, who observed with a cautious and sharp gaze. I could almost see gears turning in his head like the man was coming up with a detailed plan on the spot.

My brother nodded in agreement. "That's why it's a stealth mission. We'll be in and out before they even know we were there."

"Well, we'll need to get eyes in there,” I chimed in, already getting an idea of what we could use. Or rather who. “At least to find out the make and model of that vault."

"So the vault and then, so…” Roman muttered probably to no one specifically, seemingly lost in thought, making a sudden, weird gesture towards the papers. “It's crazy. Who's supposed to do all this?"

Without missing a beat, I exchanged a knowing glance with Brian before turning to Pearce. Another wave of silence settled between our group as the man in question looked around, bewildered by our sudden focus on him. I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to realize what was going on. His eureka moment occurred a second later.

"What do you mean? Why me?"

"Because you got the biggest mouth,” I stated matter-of-factly as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. My smile was sweet as honey when I earned a scoff from Tej, a couple of snickers from the others, and a very offended stare-down from Rome.

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The sun cast hues of orange and pink across the sky as I stood alone on the rooftop of the warehouse, the wind whispering against my bare skin. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to relax, even if just for a second. It was moments like these that made me forget the troubles that constantly haunted me.

Brian, Tej, and Rome had gone to the station to get an idea of what exactly we were about to encounter and it was nothing that we hadn’t expected already, so Santos and Leo had taken over to blow up a few pipes in the main bathroom. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see these two smiling like Cheshire cats when they heard what their job was. It was safe to say that I had my doubts but hey, gotta be positive, right?

Just as I began to lose myself in the beauty of the scene unfolding in front of me, my phone interrupted the moment with a sharp ding.

“There goes my peace,” I muttered to myself. Sighing, I pulled the phone out of my pocket and glanced down to see a text from an unknown number flashing on the screen. My brows furrowed and I quickly unlocked the screen, my eyes going back and forth as I read the message that immediately sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine.

Have fun in Brazil, love. I’ll see you soon.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, igniting a surge of anger and panic within me. It was like the wind got knocked out of me and my heart sank as painful memories flood back, memories I've tried so hard to bury from a time when I had been naive and desperate. I never told Brian how badly I’ve struggled after I’ve moved to London. I didn’t want him to know about that part of my life where I made mistakes that almost cost me my life.

Those first few months after my move, when I was vulnerable and alone, struggling to make ends meet and juggling between studies and two jobs, were terrifying. My brother was gone, disappeared without a trace, I was hit with the enormous amount of assignments and I was about to be evicted from my apartment.

Then I met Owen. He appeared like a savior, dazzling me with his charm, his sophistication, his extravagant gestures that seemed straight out of a fairy tale. Back then, I had been naive, craving affection and stability in a city that felt alien and hostile.

I thought I loved him. He had swept me off my feet with his lavish dates, his expensive gifts, his promises of a life I had only ever dreamed of. And as simple as that, I had fallen. Oh, how I had fallen, head over heels, straight into his trap. I hadn't even stopped to question the sincerity of his words or the intentions behind his actions. I was too enraptured by the illusion he had crafted around me, too desperate to believe that someone like him could truly care for someone like me. Someone so insecure and scared.

I didn’t realize who he was until it was already too late. The facade had slowly begun to crack, revealing the darkness lurking beneath the surface. And then, when I finally dared to confront him, to demand the truth I had been too afraid to seek, he’d shown his true colors. The subtle manipulation, the way he always seemed to know just what to say or do to keep me ensnared in his web. I was so blinded by the illusion of love that I never stopped to question the price I was paying.

And I’ve paid a fortune. I’ve paid in tears shed in the dead of night when I thought no one was watching. In missed calls from my friends, whose concerns were silenced by Shaw, and in the gradual erosion of my self-worth, chipped away bit by bit until there was almost nothing left. It was a miracle I’ve managed to leave him, but I wouldn’t be able to if it wasn’t for Hilly and Jessie.

Now, a fury surged through my veins. I wanted to throw my phone against the concrete floor, to scream out in frustration and defiance. But instead, I took a deep breath and forced myself to ignore the message, to push it aside like I've pushed aside so many other reminders of my past. If he was going to try and get me, I’d welcome him with open arms and a gun pointed at his head.

With a sharp exhale, I dismissed the text, refusing to let fear consume me. The hatred I’ve felt towards Shaw had reached a level that could no longer be described with words but with actions.

As I stared at the vanishing sun, lost in my thoughts, I was abruptly startled by the sound of footsteps approaching behind me. Instinctively, my body tensed, ready to defend myself against any potential threat. But before I could react further, a familiar voice broke through the tension.

"Quite the view, isn't it?"

Han's voice was calm and reassuring, instantly soothing the frayed edges of my nerves. Slowly, I turned to face him, my heartbeat gradually returning to its normal rhythm. He had a small smile engraved within his stoic expression.

I nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, it is."

"Brian sent me up here to find you,” he said and stepped closer, his presence comforting yet electrifying all at once as he stood next to me. “They're looking for you,"

Sorry. My crazy ex just texted me and almost scared the shit out of me. I felt like that would’ve been a conversation breaker, so instead, I sighed, tearing my gaze away from the horizon with a pang of guilt for disappearing without a word. Should’ve told someone I was coming here. "Well, you found me."

My gaze caught with his as his gaze lingered on me with an intensity that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. There was a brief silence between us, but it was not uncomfortable. Instead, it was filled with an unspoken understanding, a sense that Han saw right through the walls I've built around myself, and at that moment, I couldn't help but wonder what he saw when he looked at me.

I felt exposed under his scrutiny. It was as if he saw through the facade I'd carefully crafted, glimpsing the turmoil that lay beneath. Panic threatened to claw its way back into my chest, but I pushed it down, refusing to let it surface.

Swallowing the bitter taste that formed in my mouth, I decided to break the silence, my voice steady. "I just needed a moment alone.”

"I get it," he replied simply, his tone gentle yet reassuring. His dark eyes met mine, and a shiver ran down my spine. But beneath the surface, there was a tension, a hesitation that I couldn’t quite shake. This was dangerous. This… This whole situation was a disaster waiting to unfold and I couldn’t afford to let myself get too close. I burned myself once and I got a reminder of the consequences not that long ago. Fear gripped me tightly, twisting my insides into knots as I tried to suppress the memories of my past but I wasn’t brave enough to do so.

Instinctively, I step back, creating a safe distance between us. It's not that I didn’t trust Han, despite meeting him only a few days ago. I didn’t trust myself and there was something about our connection that both enticed and terrified me.

God, I was a mess, wasn’t I?

"Come on," Han's voice interrupted my tumultuous thoughts, breaking the spell that bound us in this moment of uncertainty. "Let's head back down."

I nodded silently, torn between the urge to flee and the longing to stay. But as I took a step forward to walk past him into the warehouse, heading towards the stairwell, I fought to ignore the ache that spread in my chest.

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series masterlist

#brian o'conner #deckard shaw #dominic toretto #f&f #fast & furious #fast five #fast x #han lue #han lue x reader #letty ortiz

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