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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months

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Merry and Bright

Day 9 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (The Rookie)

Summary: You invite Tim over on Christmas Eve, but he says he's working. A Christmas miracle occurs and Tim knocks on your door, presents in tow.

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Warnings: so much fluff. How the Grinch Stole Christmas references. Tim is probably OOC. I made up some stuff about Tim and his sister.

A/N: I haven't written for Tim Bradford yet, so please feel free to leave feedback and let me know what you think! I'd like to keep writing for him and try to capture his amazing character better so please feel free to send requests if you have any!

Masterlist Directory | Request Info (& full fandom list)

Since you inserted yourself into Tim’s life, barging your way in with a basket of goodies after moving in next door, he has quickly become one of your best friends. If he’s undeniably handsome and one of the most caring men you’ve ever met despite his grumpy exterior, so what? You asked yourself that the first time you invited him over for dinner, but now it’s a weekly occurrence, and it is your week to cook.

Your favorite one-pan dish is in the oven, and the game is queued on your television, but all that’s missing is Tim Bradford. As you decorated for Christmas this year, you thought about him and how his sister isn’t coming to LA for the holidays, leaving him alone. You’ve since decided to do something about that.

“Anyone home?” Tim asks as he opens your door. “Because I know I’ve told you more times than I can count to lock your door.”

You look around the corner and smile at him as you argue, “My neighbor’s a cop, it’ll be fine.”

“Sergeant, not a cop.”

“My apologies, Sergeant Bradford.”

He smiles at you, less rare than it used to be, but a moment you take the time to appreciate, never knowing when he will grace you with another one.

“So, I know your sister isn’t visiting,” you begin, “and I was wondering if you’d be interested in spending Christmas here?”

Tim glances at your Christmas tree before answering. “I would love to, and I can’t thank you enough for thinking of me and offering, but I’m working Christmas Eve.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding as you smile. “I just wanted to extend the invitation.”

You turn around to remove dinner from the oven, and Tim places a hand on your arm, stopping you.

“Thank you,” he repeats quietly and bordering on reverent. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. You’re always welcome here.”

“I’m sorry. I would come if I could.”

“Tim, it’s fine. I’ll just have to give you your giant stack of gifts later,” you tease.

Tim nods, removing his hand from your arm and watching you turn away, his heart trying to decide whether it wants to shrink or grow.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bradford, are you good?” Wade asks as he leaves the station.

“Fantastic,” he mumbles. Wade looks at him, unconvinced, and he sighs before saying, “I just wish I could be somewhere else. I’m glad I could help out the officers with families, with kids, and give them the night off, but…”

“You’re regretting it?” Wade finishes.

“Not exactly.”

“Well, if you want to come over when you get off, we’ll leave the lights on,” Wade offers.

“Thanks,” Tim says. He doesn’t add: I’ve got somewhere else I’d rather be.

Someone walks up behind Tim and places a Santa hat on his head.

“Cheer up, Grinchy,” Angela calls, walking out of the station. “Merry Christmas, Tim!”

“Yeah,” Tim says, more to himself than her.

“Dude, we need to find you a K9 named Max, finish off the Grinch look,” Aaron teases, sitting next to Tim as his shift begins. He’s working tonight for the same reason Tim is: to let the officers with families spend Christmas with their loved ones.

“Oh, should we get him a little heart pin, too, and try to make it grow?” Nolan chimes in.

“Sorry, Bradford, but you’re just so… Grinchy,” Aaron says.

Tim laughs, shaking his head as the Santa hat shifts with his movement. Nolan and Aaron look at each other in horror and amusement at the fact that Tim Bradford, who is wearing a Santa hat, just laughed. Tim, however, is only thinking of you and how you’d absolutely agree with them. Although, if you were here, or if he was with you, he wouldn’t be quite so Grinchy.

“Merry Christmas, LAPD!” Officer Jan announces, entering the station in a full Santa costume. “I have come to relieve one lucky soul of Christmas Eve duty.”

“Bradford!” Aaron and Nolan yell. “He has somewhere to be.”

“How do you-?” Tim asks.

“It’s all over your face,” Aaron says as Nolan answers, “Go get her… whoever she is.”

Tim looks at Jan, who nods encouragingly. Tim jumps to his feet and runs to his locker. He’s heading home for Christmas, but he has one stop. As he changes before climbing in his truck, he makes a mental list of everything he needs. Merry Christmas to all, Tim thinks.

✯✯✯✯✯

You smile at the ending of the Christmas movie on your television, your thoughts drifting to Tim as you wonder what it would be like to have him here. As you try to focus on the movie again, someone knocks on your door.

When you open it, you don’t expect to see Tim in a Santa hat and holding several gift bags. Your eyes widen, and your smile returns as you let him in, closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly before he gets the chance. His arms wrap around you, loosely at first, before tightening when a Christmas song begins playing through your speakers as the credits roll.

“I brought gifts,” he says against your shoulder.

“You didn’t have to. I just wanted to see you,” you reply.

He squeezes you once more, and you slowly step back, pulling out of the hug and looking up into Tim’s eyes.

“You brought hot chocolate?” you ask, stealing a peek into one of the bags.

“It’s Christmas,” he answers, as if it’s obvious.

“Didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

“I’m not always.”

You smile and gesture for him to follow you, leading him into the kitchen and pulling two Christmas-themed mugs from your cupboard.

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After making the hot chocolate, you return to the couch and turn on A Charlie Brown Christmas as you resist leaning into Tim’s side.

“This is one of my favorites,” he says quietly, “my sister and I watched it every time it was on cable growing up.”

“It’s a classic,” you agree.

“We would watch it, drink hot cocoa or cider, whatever was in the kitchen, and exchange one gift on Christmas Eve,” Tim adds.

“Do you want to open a gift?” you ask, facing him. “There’s only a few hours until Christmas anyway.”

Tim thinks for a moment and then smiles at you. “Just one.”

You stand, retrieving a small box from under the tree while he pulls a gift from one of the bags. When you sit back down, you sit a little closer than before. He opens his present first, smiling and leaning in to hug you as he thanks you. When you open yours, you see a gift you’ve wanted for years but no one ever remembered. You start to thank him, but something happens along the way, and instead, your lips land on his. His hand raises to your arm as he reciprocates, but you realise your mistake (was it really a mistake? you ask yourself) and pull back.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

His hand slides up your arm to rest at the back of your neck. You see a new smile as he pulls you back in. Pressing your hand against his chest, you stop yourself.

“Are you sure?” you whisper.

“Have you ever seen me so merry and bright?” he asks, his smile the widest you’ve ever seen.

You pick up the pompom at the end of his Santa hat and chuckle. “You are pretty cuddly,” you reply, noticing his other arm has wrapped around your waist.

He rolls his eyes, still smiling as he kisses you again. You shift backward, your hand landing on the remote and resuming the movie. Tim laughs as he pulls back, pulling you against him.

“How’d you get off work?” you ask.

“Jan came in and offered to cover for one of us, and I was volunteered because I was being too ‘Grinchy.’”

You gasp in faux surprise. “Tim Bradford? You? Grinchy? I can’t imagine it.”

He smiles, and you lean in to kiss him again, your new favorite pastime.

“Thank you for coming. This is the best Christmas ever,” you say against his lips.

“Until next year?” Tim asks.

“What happens next year?”

“We’ll see.”

“And for now we’re merry and bright?” you respond.

“The merriest and the brightest,” Tim jokes, pulling you against his side as Charlie Brown appears on screen.

Merry and Bright, indeed.

#fluentmoviequoter12daysoffics #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x you #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie

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kedreeva · 11 months

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On one side of me is an elderly couple I never see, and to the other side down the road is a little 4-spot apartment complex we call The 4plex. It's very small- I've only been in one of them, but it was basically a 1-bedroom apartment. I have only met a couple of the tenants, ever, since I mind my own business and they mind theirs. A long while back, there was a couple there that used to have screaming matches in the middle of the night (11pm-1am usually). They disappeared shortly after I stormed the castle at 4am because someone was blasting her horn trying to get the tenant to come fight her. at 4am on a workday.

I have also never met the person who actually owns the 4plex. Today I heard a bunch of commotion over there, construction sounds or at least lots of sawing, and big machinery, so I took Bug out to go see what we could see. We found a bunch of trucks trimming and cutting down trees. Not bad, the pines over there cause me problems if a bird gets out. So I turn and go to get the mail before heading back in.

I'm about halfway across my property when I hear someone calling me. not by name, so I turn to see Some Guy bolting across my orchard to catch up to me. I stop, and he comes up slower and introduces himself as the owner of the 4plex, and explains that he's cleaning up the property, the trees and removing the old sheds no one uses, and getting ready to sell it. I introduced myself, and as if we are in a grocery store checkout line, he begins to tell me a bunch of information while I nod along, and when I notice Bug is under his feet, I ask him to hold still, and point her out. He had not noticed her at all.

I scooped her up and introduced her, and let him hold her. He took a few pictures and I said, she's a baby peacock. That's when something clicked and he went from kind of tired and polite to excited and happy. He took more pictures. I offered to let him come see the other birds, so he came back and pet Stan, and fed Indie some peanuts out of his hand. I gave him the peafowl eggs I found in the pens we visited, and a dozen quail eggs from the quail, and sent him on his way, assuming I would likely never see him again.

just now I was out in Indie's pen, lying in the grass with Bug, watching the puffy white clouds inch across the clear blue sky, and listening to a little finch sing his heart out on a mulberry branch above me. Indie was preening nearby. Absolute peace.

Someone starts shouting my name from my driveway. It's Some Guy 4plex owner. He has returned. I call that I'm out in the pens, without getting up at all. He comes out and he's got a bag with him and he tells me I had got him an eggcellent breakfast, and really made his day (his week, his month), so he'd brought me a steak for dinner, and some corn. He sets down the bag and crouches to say hello to Bug again, and then tells me he showed his pictures to his sister in Texas and she didn't know what baby peafowl look like, either. Then said he's off to pay the tree removal folks, and disappeared again.

This is like the third interaction with neighbors I've had this month, after not talking to them for 10 years. I don't know what is going on.

#stories about ked's life #there's zero chance I cook this steak without Bug throwing a fit #also it's a NICE steak too from our local butcher #I assume the corn is too #it was very sweet of him to come back #he told me several times that I lead a strange life out here #and on the one hand I feel you buddy #and on the other you do not know the half of it

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scarlet-fangs · 3 months

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For the protective prompts: "You’d defy the gods, only for me?” "! would destroy the gods for you." 🤍🦢

Thank you for the ask my darling friend, I hope you will like this 🦇🖤 I’ve wanted to write for a while some forbidden romance thing for Felix, and this is perfect for it! This is some kind of Black Swan related because it fits perfectly with their dynamics. The music they listen to is from my Black Swan Spotify playlist (under the black swan tag!) Some warnings are very much needed – But it’s Felix after all so it has to be expected: Cullen bashing, Size kink, some nswf talks, mention of blood (kink) Felix’s very lovely hands…

Fic under the cut

Ever since I met him while driving my younger sister to the Cullens, they’ve been trying to keep me away from him. “He’s a monster, Black Swan! He kills people, Black Swan! He feeds of humans, Black Swan!” Who cares that he’s scary-looking and kills people? He’s tall and hot! He’s my mate! He complimented me about my patch jacket!

Carlisle was a little bit nicer about it than the rest of them. He felt maybe that it was his fault, because before Felix even said anything it was his “son” Edward who revealed the secret to me. On our second meeting, Felix himself admitted that he would not have told it to me this soon, he would have made things smoother even if I seemed to enjoy the vampire part. It was quite intriguing to him; how much I was fascinated by his fangs and the terrifying gleam his skin had in the sun, but it relieved him when I didn’t run away. When I did not pull back from his touch.

He had quite the reputation, my mate, and the Cullens, especially Edward and Alice made sure I was aware of it, how cruel and brutal he was, how he was not called the executioner for nothing. But it did not scare me, because I knew even if he was that, he wasn’t only that, my Felix was so much more! So I texted him every time I had the time, called him at night if he was available, we could stay on the phone for hours, even if his voice did not sound exactly the same it was still enough for me. All of this was rather easy to hide from the Cullens, Alice wasn’t really focused on Felix in Italy, rather on a decision of him visiting Forks, with what it would entails for Bella. Because if Aro trusted my fate in Felix’s hands, it was clearly not the same kind of trust placed in the Cullens. So like in Romeo and Juliet that Bella liked so much, Felix and I had to hide, the Cullens even managing to make me miss one of his visits thanks to Bella’s help. I was really bitter, they caught us chatting one time in Seattle and now were watching us even more closely. They would even check my home once in a while, pretending to pick up Bella that was oh so conveniently spending the afternoon at my place, to smell if there was trace of Felix’s scent. But I was his, and he would not give up on me that easily. In facts, he would not give up on me at all, he told me one night over the phone. And I’d learned that he was quite stubborn, my Felix, when he wanted something.

I had come home late from work, that night. The Cullens weren’t there, they were visiting the Denali Coven, and Bella was visiting Renée to celebrate Phil’s birthday. She felt guilty about having to give up her human life, so she tried to make everyone happy as much as she could. It was nice, to not have them on my back this week. I quickly prepared and ate dinner, and took a shower, putting on a more comfortable attire. I’ve always liked some fresh air in the house, so I tend to keep some windows open. I was doing some cleaning downstairs when I heard some noise from my bedroom. I thought that it was maybe the neighbor’s cat that came again through the window by climbing the tree, he already did it twice. I liked having him around, the little ball of black fur and soft meows, even if I liked it more when he would enter the house by the windows downstairs. I climbed the stairs, really to scold the kitty when I entered my room and realize it was not a black kitty that I would be scolding, but a hulking vampire.

“Felix! What are you doing here?!” “I was expecting a little more enthusiasm from you little love.”

“You’re lucky the Cullens aren’t in town! They don’t want me to see you! They’d try to fight you if they knew you were here, sneaking in my bedroom like that!”

« These Cullens, they are nothing for me. You shouldn’t worry about them tesorina. They should be the ones afraid to put themselves between us. As if those vegetarian vampires could defy me! I’d defy gods if I had to protect you.

"You’d defy the gods, only for me?” I looked at you, so softly.

“Oh darling, but I would destroy the gods for you” Felix answered, oh so sure of himself. And he was strong, very strong my mate, I knew he’d win a fight even against a god. My handsome mate…

“I lost you, didn’t I?” Felix said, having recognized that look on my face. “No!” I looked very much embarrassed, he knew damn well how to tease me and get a reaction from me. It did not make me love him less… I could only love him more, my darling Felix, that currently had a smug smile on his face.

“So what do you suggest?” “We could ignore everything that isn’t us, and I could spend the night in your bed…” “Felix!” “You belong in my arms little one, nowhere else. And if anyone decides against it, they’ll see the true definition of anger…” Felix answered me, menaces laced in his tone, so sure of himself. He looked particularly imposing, hulking figure with the backlighting of my bedroom.

He fits so well here, my Felix, with the band posters hung on the walls, the shelves full of dark movies and alternative music, leather jacket reflecting the dim lights, his shiny silver rings on his big hands…

“You’re staring at my hands again, don’t you? Do you know how they could look better? With my fingers buried inside you, my hand glistening coated in your…” “Felix please! Not that I wouldn’t enjoy it but…“ Now I’m very embarrassed, and I’m sure it’s very visible.

My reaction makes him laugh, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world, and it completely makes up for my embarrassment.

“I’m only teasing you amore mio. I know you said you wanted to wait, and I will respect your desire. Always. I’m up for anything with you as long as it’s within the boundaries you’ve set.”

Felix gets closer to me, slowly, and wraps his strong arms around me. He totally dwarfs me, and it’s no secret that we both are very into it, another proof that we were made for the other.

“Cuddles and metal?” “Cuddles and metal. But can you… take off your leather jacket please?” “Sure, if it makes my little darling happy…” With a smirk, he takes his time to remove his leather jacket, placing it on the back of my chair on top of mine. He’s only wearing an Iron Maiden tank top underneath, the logo a bit faded telling he’d own it for a while, that shows off all of his perfect muscles. Damn, to think that this man is all mine… He turns on the stereo, and then join me on the bed, the mattress digging with his heavy weight. He makes himself comfortable, setting up a few of my pillows behind his back, and then he opens his arms. I don’t need anything else, and nearly jump on him, making myself comfortable on his lap, his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer against him. I softly trace the muscles on his arms, looking at the scars that cover his skin. Most were from his fights as a vampire, but he told me while that some were from his human life, being a gladiator must have been a nightmare for he was a slave without a choice in the matter.

“This song makes me think of you, now every time I hear it, I see your face.” Felix’s voice shake me out of those dark thoughts. I focus on the song, and recognize Wasp.

Her eyes reflect like the rain on the pavement I take control, she explodes, sink into her depths I'm the tremble in her voice when she attempts to speak Fixate on the frailty

“Motionless in White sure has good love songs. I must admit that every time I hear Wasp or Eternally Yours, I think of you.” It makes the both of us smile, the songs fitting us oh so perfectly, especially the lewd lyrics of Wasp. Felix has always been… quite explicit.

So come to me No sense of restraint So come for me I will wait endlessly

I will break you carefully So take me harmfully You fit so perfect I will wait

I let my fingers trace the scars on his arms again, I know how fond of physical contact my Felix is. I must admit that I am too… He grabs the remote of my stereo, and lowers the sound of the music to a cozier one.

“Lost in the shadows?” I giggle. “What’s wrong with the Lost Boys? It’s a good vampire movie. I’m still bitter at the fate of the boys… Besides, you’ve got the vibes” It makes him laugh, but we both know I’m not wrong. He’s kind of got the look and music taste, and some of the brutality when it comes to protecting whom he loves. And he would look very hot and sexy covered in blood too…

“You’re imagining me covered in blood, aren’t you?” “How do you even…” “I know you, little love” “Too much, you know me too much…” “I could never know too much about you, not even after a few decades, centuries, never.”

It makes me smile, and I curl up further in his embrace. It’s getting late.

“We should listen to something softer to help you sleep…” “First, I’m not even dressed for bed yet, and second, ,what’s heavy about L’assasymphonie?” “It’s about a man who can’t sleep and is drowning in despair because of his demons. Not really the type of songs that put you to sleep.” “Do you realized I used to fall asleep blasting Maiden when I was younger?” “Yes, and now you enjoy softer songs before going to bed. This is much better, get in your night attire now.” Felix has changed the music to eyes without a face by Billy Idol, and I must admit it’s a good choice. This man knows me too well. I strip of my black jeans, and take off my shirt. I put on a Black Veil Brides tee, one that’s a size too big and go back to bed. I slip under the covers, and realize Felix had taken off a few layers too so I would be more comfortable. He brings me close to him, his arms wrapping around my waist once again, pressing me against his muscular body.

“Sleep now, tesorina. I’ll keep you safe.” Felix whisper in my ear. “Goodnight my love”, I whisper back. No matter what these idiots Cullens say, nothing will stop me from wanting this, fighting to get this, my Felix. I belong in his embrace and nowhere else.

#felix volturi x reader #felix volturi #felix volturi ❤️#volturi #black swan #my post

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patdkoala · 1 year

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Part Two: New Neighbor

Pairing: Sam Claflin x female reader

warnings: Smut, nickname use (baby, honey I love Harry Styles), riding, unprotected p in v, cumming inside, bottom!Sam

Sam and I visit each other all the time now that we are close to each other.

There was even talk of taking down the one main wall that connects our two apartments. That way we would have just one big apartment.

Sam used his big-time Hollywood pretty boy actor face to convince our landlady into letting me do what I want.

She still hasn't had the time or money to fix the building's washer and dryer.

I was carrying my large bag of laundry down the stairs into the creepy cellar room that holds the washer and dryer captive.

"Fancy seeing you here," I said to Sam as I walked in and saw him standing in the room at one of the tables folding what looks like dress pants.

"Why do you say that?" He asked as he smiled his cheesy grin at me,

"Because I just assumed that Sam Claflin the pretty boy actor has someone else to do his laundry for him."

"I prefer to do my own laundry so that I know where everything is," He said as I looked over and saw his pile of clothes all in perfect stacks corresponding to what each clothing item was.

One pile for shirts, one for pants, one for socks, one for underwear, and one for miscellaneous items.

"Why are you carrying a trash bag? The trash shoot is in the other room," He said as I looked and realized my laundry bag is in fact just a large black trash bag.

"No, these are my dirty clothes. I'm not living off of Daisy Jones money so I have to use a trash bag for my clothes. And guess what the real kicker is. When these clothes are clean they get put back in the trash bag and I just pray the bag doesn't rip."

He laughed as I then I picked up my trash bag and put it on the table next to his neat piles, slightly jostling the piles.

We stood there in silence and did our laundry together.

"Do you have any plans tonight?" I asked as Sam looked up at me with the most puppy-like eyes I have ever seen in my entire life.

"Uh, no. Why? Are you asking me out?"

"God no. Not out, at least. I'm asking you if you'd want to stop by my place tonight and get a bite. I was thinking of ordering something nice tonight."

"Sounds great. What's the occasion?"

"I sold one of my books to a publisher and I figured we should celebrate since I wrote some bits of it about my new neighbor, Sam Claflin."

"You wrote a book about me?"

"No, I wrote a book about the people I meet and you just happened to show up in part of it," I said as I threw some clothes in the washer.

"I'll have dinner with you but only if you let me pick what movie we watch because you never let me pick anymore," He said which was true.

Sam and I have been spending most nights together after our first quote on quote date.

We aren't a couple but we have grown pretty close to each other.

He insisted on showing me romance movies since I shared how much I despised them when we first met.

"You just haven't seen the right ones," Is all he had to say about it. Before I knew it, we were hopping back and forth between apartments watching every rom-com that Sam thought I would like.

We found a few that I did end up liking.

"Fine. But, you have to tell me what type of movie we are going to watch," Sam said as I smirked at him.

"Don't tell me, Sam Claflin is scared of horror movies."

"I'm not, I just am not too fond of them," He said as he everted his eyes at me so I couldn't see that he was lying.

"Well, I will see you later. I was just coming down here to drop my laundry off. I will see you later, Sam Claflin," I said as he smiled at me and then he just continued to fold his clothes.

I went upstairs to get ready. I brushed my teeth and hair after taking an EVERYTHING shower. (Ifykyk)

I then called Sam and asked what he wanted for dinner. He said Chinese so I went on doordash and ordered some.

I made the couch all nice and then I sat on it and waited for Sam to knock on my door three times like he always did.

"Come in!" I yelled as I stood up and Sam opened the door since I left it unlocked for him.

"Wow, this place looks great."

"Yeah, I cleaned up a bit," I said as I played with the ends of my hair.

"It smells good in here too. Did you light a candle?" He asked as he looked around trying to find a flame.

I shook my head. "No, why? What does it smell like?"

"Vanilla and cucumber," He said as I then sniffed myself and realized he was smelling me because I had just showered and let the apartment get all steamy. The scent probably lingered.

"Oh, you must be smelling me. I showered. Who knew a pretty boy actor like you had such a good sense of smell," I said as he walked over to me and leaned in close.

I swear to God. Sam Claflin was sniffing me.

"You smell amazing. This apartment looks amazing."

I just looked up at him into his beautiful green eyes. "What are we doing here?" I asked as I leaned into him but not touching him, just leaned close enough to be near him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," He lied. I knew he was lying because he everted his eyes again. He can never look at me when he's lying.

I grabbed onto his chin with my thumb and index finger. I moved his face to look me in the eyes.

"Tell me what we are doing here," I said again.

This time, he didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned closer filling that final amount of space left between the two of us. He kissed me so deeply and passionately.

His hand found its way into my hair where it seemingly got lost and tangled.

My hands found their way to his face where I cupped his jaw and pulled him closer to me to fill any unwanted gaps.

"Uhm, excuse me. Where do you want me to put this?" The Doordash guy asked as he walked up to the door, which was still left open thanks to Sam.

Sam and I broke apart from our kiss and Sam walked over to the guy and took the bag of food. Sam then dug into his pocket and pulled out a 20 handing it to the guy.

"Thanks have a nice- Holy shit. You're Finnick Odair!" The guy yelled at Sam as he took the 20.

"Yeah, I am. Thank you for delivering my food," Sam said trying to get this guy to leave. "Have a nice day and drive safe."

"Hey, man. Do you think I can get a picture with you? My girl is gonna freak," He asked as he took out his phone.

"Sure, just promise me you won't come back here again," Sam said as the guy shook his head. "No, of course. I would never do that."

Sam nodded and then put his arm around the guy getting ready for a selfie.

"Oh, do you mind taking it of us?" The guy asked me as I rolled my eyes and then took the phone from the guy.

"Okay, everyone say Cheese!" I said as Sam smiled comically big next to the delivery man. I took one picture and then handed the phone back to the guy and he left.

Sam set the food on the kitchen table and I went and sat down on the couch trying to catch my thoughts on what had just happened before the guy showed up.

I kissed Sam Claflin. Pretty actor boy Sam Claflin.

"Nice, you got a lot of good stuff," Sam said as he took out each item that was in the bag.

"Are we just going to ignore what happened?"

"I get a lot of fans like that all the time. Don't worry he won't come back here. And even if he does, I can just call my security guy and ask him to stay here a couple of nights," Sam said as I just sat there looking dumbfounded.

"No, I- wait what? No. I meant the kiss. Are we going to ignore that we just kissed?"

"No, I wasn't planning on ignoring our kiss. I just would like to eat the food while it's still hot. We can kiss again later," He said as he got a plate filled up with food.

"So, you want to kiss me again?"

"Of course I do," He said as he sat down next to me and started eating. "So, what movie did you pick out?"

We ate and talked and laughed while watching Scream. It's my favorite horror film and I knew Sam would be scared the whole time and I enjoyed the thought of comforting him.

We started to move closer and closer to each other. Soon enough I felt one of his hands on my lap. Underneath the blanket.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I kept my eyes laser focused on the movie.

"Watching the movie. What does it look like I'm doing?" He asked as I looked down at my lap and saw the blanket move. I saw his hands reach further up.

"Sam, please," I slightly moaned out as he touched my inner thigh.

"Use your words, honey," He said as I melted into his touch along with his words.

"Please, fuck me, Sam."

"As you wish."

He then pulled me by the waist and had me in his lap facing him. My legs were wrapped around him and I tangled my fingers into the root of his hair as he moaned into my mouth and our kiss deepened.

He removed my shirt and tossed it across the room. I then removed his and did the same. A small giggle escaped from his lips. I stole the giggle by entrapping my mouth onto his.

His hands found their way onto the clasps of my bra and he quickly took it off in less than a minute. I can't even get my own bra off in 5 minutes.

He left hickeys all over my chest and neck. Good thing I don't leave the apartment because if I do then people would see all the markings that he was leaving on me. Like he was a dog and I was his tree.

He moved us so that he was on top of me and we were horizontal on the couch.

He was wearing a simple gold necklace and it hovered above my face as he kissed up and down my body.

He started to remove my pants and I slid them off with ease. He started to undo his jeans and as he was sitting over me I traced my fingers along the beautiful tattoos painted across his chest.

"Is this okay, honey?"

He was moving closer to being inside of me. "Yes. Everything you do is okay with me," I said as he smiled at me softly and then before I knew it.

Sam Claflin was inside of me.

We both moaned out at the feeling of each other.

"Oh, honey. I can't believe you feel this good," He moaned as he slid a finger inside of me along with everything else going on.

We went on like that on the couch for a solid 5 minutes but then he got off of me.

"Why'd you stop? What's wrong?" I asked as I sat up on the couch, reaching for a blanket because I was just sitting there completely naked.

"I'm too old to be fucking you on the couch like this. My back is about to give out and not in a good way," He said as I nodded and then wandered off.

"Uhm, where's your bedroom?" He asked as I smiled and stood up, taking the blanket with me, and dragged him into my bedroom.

I got a new bed and it's a slightly bigger bed with a nice wooden frame that I painted to make me feel like it wasn't the cheapest one I could find in IKEA.

He got in bed first. And I mean IN bed.

He got under the covers. Might I mention this guy was also naked,

Sam Claflin, fully in the nude, and in my bed.

"Oh, are we going to bed now?" I asked as he put his arms behind his head.

He looks so yummy. Lying in my bed. Arms behind his head. The only thing he is wearing is a simple gold necklace with a small charm.

I crawled onto the bed and got on top of his lap. I was sitting on his lap just far up on his waist enough to feel his raging boner under me.

"Please, honey," He moaned out as I touched his face gently.

"Use your words, baby," I said as I reached down and gently rubbed him.

"Please, (Y/N)," He said as I then got under the covers and straight up sat on his dick.

He and I both moaned as I rode him.

I held onto the headboard behind him and he held onto my hips, trying to steady me.

"Oh, fuck," He moaned as he bit his lip. I leaned forward and kissed him. I bit his lip as we released our mouths from each other.

"Honey, I'm close," He said as I moved in a faster motion and felt every bit of him hit me in all the right places.

"Don't stop, please baby," He said in a sort of whimper.

I came on his dick and then I felt him release in spurts shortly after.

He pulled me off of him after a few minutes of me just sitting on him panting like crazy together.

He held me close to his chest and I continued to trace his tattoo with my finger. He held my other hand and clasped it tight.

"There is no way I'm ever letting you go," He said as I pushed him off of me and started to get dressed.

"Wait, did I do something wrong? Why are you leaving?"

"I have to go finish my laundry," I said as he smiled. "Wanna join me?"

#sam claflin #sam claflin imagine #sam claflin gif #sam claflin smut

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jesussavemenow11 · 4 months

Text

Winter's the Only Season // Smosh

Pairing- Amanda Lehan-Canto // Fem!Reader

Warnings- I don’t think any but if there is let me know and I will add them!

SO MUCH FLUFFY STUFF

NO USE OF Y/N

Word count- 1716

Summery- You love your close friends and family, especially when it comes time for the excitement of winter parties and feasts. But ever since your childhood best friend moved away, it’s never quite felt the same.

Winter’s in Boston are brutal, always have been brutal, will most likely always be brutal. From the wind to the constant snowfall. And don’t get me started on the irritable individuals that live in this city. I have a big family, they all come together during the big holidays like Christmas. It’s nice to have them all together. Friends and neighbors will get together and enjoy one another's company in the many parties my parents throw. The nights get rowdy and drinks get shared along with secrets about anyone and everyone. The moms gravitate to one side of the room, while the dads crowd to the other.

It’s been this way since I was a kid. But ever since Amanda moved away, things haven’t been the same. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy she got out of this god forsaken city, but I can’t help but be devastated with the truth of her not being around anymore. Amanda and I grew up as neighbors, our moms being highschool friends and our dads being forced to enjoy one another's company, and the constant playdates since we were babies, we couldn’t help falling into some sort of friendship. Amanda really only comes back into town for the winter excitement, due to her moms constant nagging and begging for her to at least visit during Christmas. Though I see her yearly, I still crave the day she flies back in and everything would feel normal and at peace again. Today was that day.

I drove home yesterday, returning back to the house I grew up in. I went through the typical emotional greetings. Now I sit by the window, picking at the loose fabric on the cuff of my jeans, waiting oh so impatiently for Amanda to show up once more. It had been a full year since I last saw her, hugged her, felt her arms wrap around me and smelled her signature honey and tea tree perfume.

My mom walked into the living room, a wooden spoon in hand, she sighed contently at me perched by the window. “Oh, honey.” She giggled slightly. “Hm?” I hummed back, not daring to move my eyes away from the view of the end of the street. “She’ll get here soon, I promise!” My mother tried reassuring me.

“While you wait, why don’t you help Cindy and I in the kitchen?” She said as she returned to the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes, my impatients eating away at me. The anticipation for Amanda to get here was killing me. I didn’t want to miss her arrival, but I also would feel awful If I didn’t go help my mom. So reluctantly I left my spot in front of the window, making my way to the kitchen. Immediately I was hit with the smell of warm rolls, turkey keeping warm in the oven and many other yearly feasts. My dad stood beside the fridge complaining to Cindy about how my mom won’t let him cook the turkey anymore because last year he cooked it for too long and my mom sent him out to get something else.

“She’s never Cooked the Turkey Cindy!” My dad complained, throwing his arms up, to an annoyed Cindy who stood chopping veggies while my nephew sorted them on a platter beside her. “I know Scott, but you have to have more faith in your own wife.” Cindy reassured the man.

I tried squeezing past the two, not sneaky enough though, my dad stopped me saying, “Candy! Help your dad out, tell your mom she has nothing to worry about.” I rolled my eyes at my frazzled father. “No thanks daddio, I don’t want to get caught up in between you and moms arguments.” I responded. My dad shook his head and mumbled under his breath. I reached over my nephew grabbing some celery. “We aren’t arguing, just bickering!” My mom giggled and patted my dads back.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to be a part of it. Dad please stop calling me Candy, I turned 34 this year, It’s not the same.” I said through a mouth full of celery. “Not the same as what?” He said as I squeezed past him. “As when you were 33?” I went to glare at him until I heard the front door open and a screech from my mom. “Amanda’s home!!” She shouted.

I practically threw my celery on the counter, sprinting to the front of the house. I looked out the window to see Amanda and her dad getting out of their car. My heart picked up, my excitement bubbling in my stomach and to my chest. Suddenly I felt sweaty and out of breath. I ran to the front door pushing it open. There she was, her hair up in a low pony-tail to be out of her face. She wore a ‘Smosh’ hoodie and blue jeans. She stretched as she got out of the car. Her long limbs reaching for the sky. I took in her beauty, even from here she was flawless. I have liked every part of her for so long, she was back home. She had let her hair grow out since I last saw her, her bangs longer and her skin seemed so tan compared to the falling snow.

I ran off the porch and straight into her, wrapping my arms around her neck. She stumbled back slightly, the impact startling her. Once she regained her balance, she wrapped her arms around me. I immediately melted into her embrace, she lifted me off the ground just barely to emphasize the love poured into the hug. This hug was shared yearly, typically on the same day, and nearly always at the same spot. Yet every time it feels so fresh and new. Amanda means the world to me, and I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing her again. This moment right here, her hugging me, the faint feeling of her lips secretly pushed to my neck, the scent of her floating around us, my chest pounding with content, this moment was an unwritten law. We were to share this moment last year, this year, and the many years to come.

~~~~

Hours passed since Amanda returned home, the sun had set by now and we had all enjoyed dinner around the table. Per usual Amanda and I sat side by side. Her hand squeezed my knee from time to time under the table. I sat back and let the others reunite with her as I admired her from afar. My favorite is watching her play card games with some of the family and friends. The pure passion she has for winning, I love when she gets so into it she will start screaming and slamming her cards down in anger. Her and my dad will get into full blown arguments about what play was wrong and how the other is cheating. She’ll point at him and say: “How is that cheating?!” As he accuses her of a perfectly out of hand play. At the end of it all I will remind them both they forget rules way to easily.

Now, the both of us sit in the living room, wine glasses in our hands, and the bottle that I stole from the kitchen, stands on the floor just close enough to reach when either of us needs a quick refill. Everyone else either already went home or still sat chatting in the dining room out of sight, we could still hear them though, their loud banter and the faint christmas records creating a gentle ambience.

I shared a gentle moment of peace with Amanda, just the two of us in the living room on Christmas eve night. She took a sip from her wine, I watched her lips as she did so, so delicate, so soft. Her eyes shimmered in the light of the Christmas tree.

“How has work been?” I asked, really just using it as an excuse to hear her talk again. She shrugged. “Pretty good.” She started, her voice raspy from all of her shouting. “The fans seem to be taking a liking to our long story series stuff so we’re doing a lot of that lately.”

I nodded along listening to her every word. “I think they have been taking a good liking to you!” I pointed at her, wine glass still in hand. She quickly shook her head, but I could see a small blush cover her face. “I mean I can’t blame them!” I giggled.

“Oh please!” Amanda rolled her eyes. “Yeah I’m a real hot commodity!” She laughed with me. Our fit of giggles fading slowly into the background noise. “I really missed you.” I said suddenly, my heart skipping a beat when she looked over to me, her smile lingering on her face. “I always miss you.” She replied.

A silence fell over us once more, I couldn’t help but admire her. “You stare a lot.” She said, “You have a very stare-worthy face.” I replied quickly. Her smile dropped, and I inched forward, I had been waiting to feel this again, was the the moment?

“You too.” She replied before leaning the rest of the way.

I kissed her, slow and tender. She returned the gentle kiss, treating me as if I were made of the finest marble and she didn’t dare make a scratch. I pushed deeper into the kiss, wanting to live in the moment all the time. Wanting to have her during all seasons, I want to have her near me everyday. I don’t want to wait for that one time of year that she comes home and I only get her for two weeks. I loved these two weeks, but I also despised them because I knew at the end I would have to say goodbye again.

I knew that at the end she would go back to California and I would go back to my 9-5, as I counted down the days of her return. Winter was the only season we could be together.

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I hope you enjoy this, this is my first EVER smosh fic. I hope you like it, leave critics and requests I am open to anything. I used to be a huge fanfic writer but haven't done it in a while so I'm a little rusty. Love you all!! - DOT

#smosh #amanda lehan canto #smosh games #fanfiction #smosh fanfiction #smosh squad #female x reader #female x female #smosh shayne #shayne topp #angela brainrot #angela giarratana #amangela

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sixofpomegranates · 2 years

Note

Okay I loved the Eddie Munson one shot! Do you think that maybe we can get one with a metalhead reader too? Maybe angst cuz she thinks Eddie's into Chrissy the cheerleader but hes really into her..?

I love the cheerleader trope.. But I'm a metalhead and I can't really relate to it 😅

Love you and your work! Keep it up sweetheart 💕

☠︎ 𝙳𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 ☠︎ -𝙴.𝙼.

⚡︎{Eddie’s Masterlist}{Requests/Feedback}{Guidlines}⚡︎

A/N: !Body, Ethnicity & Skin color Neutral! Hehehe that's my first Eddie Smut.

CW: Fluff, Angst/Comfort, Smut 18+ | !Best Friends to Lovers Trope! | Mentions of Bullying/Friends with Benefits//Underage Drinking/Eddie's Parents(abuse/neglect), Hippy Parents (y/n), Talk about PMS/Period, Drugs & selling & use of (Weed), Pining/Childhood Crush, Heartache/Crying, Fighting, massive insecure jealousy, Smut ~ Penetrative Sex (semi-public, unprotected, creampie)

*picture does not describe the looks of the reader*

Eddie Munson is my best friend. We became friends shortly after my parents and I returned to America when I was six. Until then, we'd lived in an ashram in India.

My parents raised me quite unconventional—as children in the ashram were raised. I was free to do as I wanted but was always told that I have to be ready to accept the consequences as they come. I grew up knowing right from wrong, social norms, and how to listen to my own gut rather than peer pressure.

My parents let me listen to the music I like and dress how I see fit. I like rock and metal music. I dress mostly in black, like my make-up heavy, and go to parties or get drunk and high with Eddie on the weekends.

There is no sneaking out, no lies, no fights about rules. Though most parents disagree with their method, my mother can always tell you exactly where I am, who I am with, and what I am doing. How many mothers of an eighteen-year-old can say that about themselves?

My parents also like Eddie, which is a rare one for him. When he still lived with his parents, we were neighbors, and for two weeks, he lived in my closet and under my bed – right after his mother had died, and his father started using him as a punching bag and scapegoat.

When my parents found out, they were mad. Not because I hid Eddie, making his father believe he was kidnapped, though. They were mad because I didn't tell them right away, so they could've helped earlier. They were proud of me for protecting my friend.

After talking to Eddie's father and child services, he officially lived with us for a week until his uncle Wayne took him in. That made visiting each other a longer trip with our bikes, but Eddie finally stopped being covered in bruises, and that was worth it.

Eddie is my best friend. Today, we're still as inseparable as we were when he lived under my bed at twelfth years old.

We listen to music, get high together, play Dungeons and Dragons, taught ourselves to play guitar, and when he bought Sweetheart, I bought Baby.

Eddie is my best friend.

He was my first friend and my first kiss.

He was my first love. The one love I'll never get over.

He was my first.

When I was a freshman, we'd started experimenting with each other. That was also the same year Eddie had fallen head over heels for Chrissy, and she had fallen for Jason Carver. So for him, it was obviously just two best friends fooling around, but for me...

I'd love him to love me, but I am just his friend. So I took him in all the ways he was willing to let me have him.

By now, there are no secret make-out sessions anymore, no petting. We only ever slept once with each other, losing our virginity to the other, and after that, we never did anything or spoke about it ever again.

As the years went on, Eddie collected more and more experience with all sorts of people, while I never did something in that regard again. I still spend my nights fantasizing about my best friend and the days I spend daydreaming in my classes.

I could just move on and sleep with somebody else, but that wouldn't change that I am in love with Eddie... So, where's the point?

As I walk down the hallway to my next class, I notice Chrissy Cunningham putting a little pink note into Eddie's locker, the bell rings, and I have to hurry to my seat, but what I saw nags me for the entire hour.

She never talks to Eddie. What does she want from him?

I quickly feel myself becoming irritated by the preppy cheerleader, although I know she's a nice person. She has a boyfriend. Why is she coming after Eddie all of a sudden? I need to know what's in that note.

The second the bell excuses us, I dash out of the room and to Eddie's locker. We know each other's combinations, so that's no issue for me. I search through his stuff but can't find the little note I am so sure Chrissy put in here.

"What are we looking for?" a voice whispers into my ear, and I jump, almost having a heart attack.

"Jesus. Fuck, Eddie," I exclaim, while he can't help but laugh loudly.

"Sorry, Sweetheart," he chuckles, putting some books into his locker, and taking out his lunchbox. "So, what were you looking for?"

I shrug, and he chuckles, pulling out a folded pink paper from his pocket. "Were you looking for that?" I try grabbing the paper, but he is quicker in pulling it away. "Now, aren't you just nosey today?"

"What- What did she write?" He raises his brows, amused, "Oh, so you know who this is from?"

Usually, I am not visibly jealous and am thick-skinned when it comes to Eddie and other women, but Chrissy managed to get under my skin. She is friendly and sweet; she looks like an angel, is popular...

Between sixteen and seventeen, Eddie was head over heels for her, and as much as he deserves to be happy, the thought of them together makes me want to vomit.

She is literally the only woman that ever left a deep mark on him, showing him that being himself could drive who he wanted most away from him. If they became a couple, it would be game over for me.

Chrissy would be Eddie's forever.

"Just tell me what Chrissy wrote," I demand, and he nods at my aggravation. "Okay, you little hellfire. Jeez."

With his lunchbox in his hand, he walks outside to the parking lot with me. "She wanted to meet me at my usual spot in the woods."

She wants to meet him alone... In private. My eyes snap at him, and I almost trip over my own feet. "What? Why?" He shrugs, "I assume the usual."

"Cunningham doesn't do drugs," I say, internally freaking out about all the reasons she could want to meet him alone in the woods.

The worst being to confess her feelings for him, to make a move. I am not stupid; she and Jason aren't doing well at the moment. They're not the happy preppy couple they were a few months ago.

"We don't know that," Eddie gives back, relaxed.

As we pass his van, I grab his wrist, and we stop walking. I don't know what to say, so I just say, "Please don't go meet her."

He starts frowning. "It's just business, Sweetheart."

"Can- Can you take me home?" I ask, thinking of what I can do to make him stay. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of what could happen if he meets with her.

His hand reaches up, brushing my hot cheek and resting on my forehead, checking my temperature. "Sure, you can nap in the van until I'm back."

"No, no, please now."

Practically throwing his lunchbox aside, he cradles my face in his hands and studies my pupils. "Did- did you take something from my lunchbox? I know I gave you free excess, and we agreed years ago to only smoke pot, but if that's the reason and you're not feeling good, you need to tell me."

"I didn't take anything," I answer, unable to force down my hysteria. "Just please, please, please don't meet Chrissy."

Eddie lets go of me; his face drowned in worry. "[y/n], What is going on?"

"Nothing!" I almost yell, feeling tears in my eyes. "Just please let us go home."

I try taking his hand and pulling him to the van, but he refuses. "Eddie, please," I beg, but to no use.

"You're acting so strange today... What is going on? You're never like this," he tells me, pretty face pulled into a frown.

"Like what?" I ask, and Eddie tries to force a smile on his lips. "Irrational. You're normally the cool and collected one of us. I'm the nutjob."

"I just don't want you to meet her." "Then give me a reason why not," Eddie says before asking, "Did she or her friends do or say something mean to you?"

His body tenses up in the same way it did years ago when getting into a fistfight with me. A boy had harrassed me all summer for the way I dress and then tried groping my butt. Eddie had lost it, becoming highly protective over me.

I shake my head, jealousy pouring out of me in the most toxic way I've ever experienced. "No, but- but she's stupid and preppy, and- and-"

Eddie interrupts me, shocked, "Hey, she's still a person." I ignore his interruption, repeating, "Don't go."

"You're acting so hysterical right now..." Looking around, he steps a little closer, asking me quietly, "Are- Are you on your period? Is that it? Are you in pain? Do you need something? I have some pads and tampons in the van."

As an upset sigh leaves me and I try to contain the tears stinging in my eyes, he continues, "I- I also have some spare clothes for you. I should've thought of that earlier, but you're wearing black; nobody saw anything, Sweetheart."

"I'm not on my fucking period, Munson. I- I don't want you to go because I don't like her," I groan desperately, but Eddie shakes his head. "That's not true. You don't mind Chrissy."

No, I said she's nice because you're head over heels for her and don't like me critiquing miss perfect.

"You don't know who I like and don't like," I hiss. "Our twelfth years of friendship say differently," Eddie says calmly. "Ten minutes, okay?"

I follow the few steps he takes after him. "No. Fuck, no," I exclaim, trying to stay in control over a situation out of my control. "If you go now, I won't talk to you again."

Eddie looks at me in disbelief, "You're kidding?" as I don't answer, he says hurt, "I'm not letting you manipulate me like that."

Stubbornly, I shake my head. "No. Chrissy or me."

"I'm not playing that game, [y/n]," the metalhead tells me sternly. "Whatever's going on right now, you better have calmed down when I'm back."

"You're still going to meet her?" I ask, and as he shrugs, I shrug as well. "Kay," I say, starting to walk away.

It was stupid to think I'd have a chance against perfect, sweet, lovable Chrissy.

"Where are you going?" Eddie calls after me. "Home," I bite out between jealous, heartbroken tears.

"Come back. I'll drive you." I turn around, look at him shortly, and scoff, "Go drive Chrissy home."

Before he can say another word, I put on my headphones, turn up the volume of my walkman, and go home.

*****

Now today wasn't a toxic masterpiece delivered by me at all. After a shower and faceplanting into my bed, I realized that I maybe overreacted a little.

To be fair, it fucking kills me to think of Eddie being with the girl he has longed for, for years now. He's sweet and loving. Once he loves you, he'll never let go of you. He's as fucking loyal as a dog.

And if he ends up with Chrissy, it'll always be them. I'll have to face the reality of never being more to Eddie than his best friend and watch him be happy with somebody else.

I start crying again. The last time my heart hurt this badly had been after our first time when he decided to let us become friends without benefits again and dated this metalhead chick that looked like she came straight from one of his magazines.

I cannot hold up with a woman with professional stylists that make her look like a metalhead's wet dream.

I cannot hold up with preppy, perfect Chrissy Cunningham.

Those are the women he wants. I'm simply not it.

"Hey, Sweetheart," Eddie suddenly coos, sitting down next to me on my Black Sabbath sheets.

I hadn't noticed him coming in, but he also roams my home as though it is his own. "Go away," I mumble, trying to wipe my tears away without him seeing.

He sighs, making himself comfortable and simply pulling me into his lap. "What's going on, [y/n]?" "Nothing," I whimper, losing all self-respect as I bury my face in his chest and inhale his scent.

"You picked a fight with me," he says, still confused about my irrational behavior but also holding me tight since it worries him. "We don't fight."

That's true; we don't. Never have had any reason to. Sometimes we bicker, but I know I shot way over the target today.

"What did Chrissy want?" I ask as his thumb dries my tears, and he rocks us back and forth a little.

"You won't believe it, but it was drugs," he chuckles, and I physically relax in his arms.

I overreacted. There is no reality I have to face, and we could still happen in my fantasy. Chrissy isn't going to take Eddie away from me.

"Nothing else?" I ask, able to look at him without crying.

He shakes his head. "Nope. But she is definitely not as sweet and innocent as she pretends to be," he chuckles. "She wants the hard stuff, so we're meeting after the game tonight, and I'll take her back to my place to get high."

I feel dizzy from the verbal whiplash I just received. Within a second, I sit on the other side of my bed, looking at Eddie and exclaiming, "What?"

Looking at me confused, he answered, "That's where my stash is, and she has nobody to watch her, so I offered-"

I shake my head, interrupting him. "Go." "What?" "Get out of my room," I repeat, feeling anxiety starting to make me sick.

Situation already forced me to be realistic today as Eddie chose her instead of me, as I forced him to. There will never be anything between us. Eddie will be himself around Chrissy when they're alone, she'll see how sweet and amazing he is, and I'll be fucked.

"Sweetheart-" The nickname burns in my lungs as he'll never mean it the way I want him to. "Don't call me that. Go away, and fucking leave me alone," I cry, wrapping my arms around myself.

Eddie nods, getting up from my bed. "Okay... I- I'm gonna pick you up later for the campaign." I crawl up to my pillows, rolling into a ball. "I'm not going."

He looks at me, confused. "What? But- But the cult of Vecna and-" Hugging one of my pillows, I whimper, "I don't care. Just invite Chrissy."

Eddie walks to my bedroom door, holding the doorknob as he says, "But I don't want her there; I want you. Look, I- I don't know what I did, or what Chrissy did... But please don't be mad at me."

The sadness in his voice hurts me. It isn't his fault that I love him, and his feelings lie elsewhere. But I'm in pain, pain I caused myself, and the cure can only ever come to me in a fever dream.

As Eddie leaves, I begin crying again. I will ruin everything between us if I continue like this. I don't even like the person I was today. I don't tear other women down; I don't use Eddie's affection for me as a bargaining chip...

When my mother comes home from the meditation class she gives once a week, she finds me crying in my bedroom. As I said, there are no secrets between us, so I bawl my eyes out and tell her about today.

"Honey, I hate telling you this, but if loving Eddie turns you into a person you don't like or even recognize... maybe it's better to come clean about your feelings and, if necessary, let him go," she sighs

"Don't wanna lose him," I say as she begins massaging my neck, stiff from all the anxiety I felt today.

"I think it's better to risk and lose him than end up losing yourself and hating what remains of you."

I don't answer because I hate that she's right. Despite my metalhead appearance and all the cliches associated with it, I am balanced. I am friendly, calm, and rarely angry.

Today I was somebody I don't want to be. I don't want my feelings for Eddie turning me into this person forever.

Maybe it is better to let him go...

*****

I wait outside the school until the Hellfire Club meeting ends. When everyone except Eddie has left, I walk into the drama class's prop room that doubles as the Hellfire Club's room.

"Hi," I say gently, staying at the door and watching Eddie clean up. We usually do it together and then go for fast food.

Eddie turns to me and, although surprised, also answers with a soft voice, "Hey."

I came up with a plan at home, and though I feel like every bone in my body is getting broken, I have to follow through with it.

I'll confess my feelings. I will take Eddie's answer of how he only ever saw me as his friend, and then I'll leave this friendship in the past.

There is no logical reason to continue hurting myself and Eddie with my aching heart.

"How did it go?" I ask, stepping closer and helping collect his notes. He smiles sweetly, "They defeated Vecna. Wish you would've been there. It was so cool."

"I'm sorry for today. I- I wasn't..." "What was the reason?" he interrupts me. "I- I just want to understand what freaked you out so much."

"I- I- It's... I don't know," I chicken out, unable to finally bite the bullet and speak up.

Like he can see my internal struggle, Eddie lifts one of his dice. "You know what that is?" "A D20," I reply, looking at the twenty-sided ember-colored dice in his hand.

He shakes his head. "Uh-uh. It's a dice of truth. If I roll it and it shows any number over 10... You'll have to tell me the truth."

As I shake my head, too scared of the dice forcing me to speak, he changes his offer, "Everything above 15. That's a 75% chance we'll just forget today and move on like nothing happened."

"That was some quick math for someone hating it so much," I giggle, hiding that this is the ideal way for me to chicken out. "Okay."

"Do you want me to roll it?" Eddie asks, and I nod.

I don't believe in destiny. I do believe in karma due to my parents, but destiny is bullshit. Yet, the dice lands on twenty.

Only a 25% chance, and the 20 still looks at me, laughing triumphantly.

Eddie grins at that, the boyish grin I've always been so smitten with. He leans against the desk, crossing his arms and waiting for my answer.

For the truth of why I was acting so strange today.

"I- I just don't understand why you want to be with Chrissy when..." I bite my lip, taking a deep breath. "When I'm right here?"

His brown puppy eyes become wider, his smile fading. I continue to speak since I know that if I don't do it now, I never will.

"I love you, always have, and you just see me as a friend." My throat tightens, and tears run down my cheek as I exclaim, upset, "That- That just fucking hurts, okay?"

"Is that why you never dated anyone after we had sex?" he asks, frowning. I nod. "I just wanted you, but you didn't want me anymore."

At that, Eddie closes the distance between us. "Sweetheart, that wasn't the reason I stopped being with you," he says, cupping my cheeks and wiping away my tears. "Not at all."

My embarrassingly hot cheeks burn under his cool rings. "Then- Then why did you stop- Why did we stop...?"

He shakes his head. "You don't want to know..." "Yes, I do," I insist.

For a moment, he looks at me as though I am a piece of art and all of his damnation at once. His hands never leave my face, but he slowly backs me against the table.

"Nosey, nosey, little thing," he lectures me, a grin parting his lips. "Now listen here, when I was sixteen, I had a small little crush on Chrissy. Nothing more. And after you and I had sex, I never even looked at her again..."

The metalhead chuckles darkly, self-deprecating almost. "That night, my little hellfire, you fucking cursed me, put me under your spell," he says, pressing himself against me, so my body is trapped between him and the table. "You made me fall in love with you... so much."

His cheeks are tinted in soft pink, our breathing hangs heavily between us, and there is a slight stutter of nervousness in his voice. "I- I didn't want to ruin our friendship, so I just- just decided to never act on any of those feelings again."

A sigh sounding more like a soft moan, escapes me. "I wish you would've," I tell him, and he raises his brows. "Yeah?" he asks tauntingly, and I nod, making him chuckle, "Me too."

Eddies face comes closer, replacing one of his hands as it moves to my waist. I can feel his lips against my skin, his warm breath tickling me and making me lose sanity.

"P-Please..." I whimper, unsure what else to say but willing to say whatever he wants as long as it makes him stay this close.

"You know," he whispers, "All I could think of whenever I fucked somebody over the years were those little whimpers and moans of yours."

His low voice has me become a puddle in his hands. I feel myself becoming desperate for his touch as he confesses to me, "They haunted me, Sweetheart. It was like I needed to imagine them to even come."

All these years, it nagged on me that I would never be one of the women he dated or slept with, never be what he wanted, but Eddie had to think of me when he was with them.

He presses his pelvis against me, letting me feel the erection hiding in his ripped jeans. My hips jolt up, moving against him in a search for friction.

"You need it that badly, baby?" he chuckles, and I nod, breathing out his name like a prayer.

Eddie helps me onto the desk, spreading my legs and stepping between them. As he does this, a cool breeze creeps under my black skirt; I am so wet I have already soaked through my panties and tights.

The hand he'd placed on my waist moves down to my butt, harshly groping it and moving me to the edge of the table. There he begins to grind his clothes hard-on against me, giving me the friction I was looking for.

"More," I demand greedily, moving myself against him. "Please, please."

Eddie grins, the hand on my cheek leading me to his lips. I sigh into the kiss, which is so soft that it takes me back to our very first kiss. Like it did years ago, his hand is shaking.

Mine move up, wrapping around his neck. I hear Eddie chuckle into the kiss, his tongue licking against my bottom lips, asking for access I am more than willing to grant him.

There is no chance I'll ever let him go. It would be like giving away my ability to breathe.

Our kiss becomes sloppy, wild, and unhinged. Both his hands now groping my butt harshly as we hump against each other like the horny teenagers we once were.

A loud moan of mine lets Eddie pull away and ask, "That feel good?"

I nod, grabbing his Hellfire Club shirt and pulling it out of his jeans. "Please, please fuck me, Eddie," I beg, brain short-circuiting as my hand comes in contact with his happy trail.

He steps back, unbuckling his pants. "Your wish is my command," he tells me in a British accent he learned for one of his campaigns' characters.

My eyes don't shy away from starting at his throbbing cock as he pulls down his jeans and boxers. "Fuck," he cusses as I reach out, pumping his length, head falling back for a second.

Grabbing the thin fabric of my tights, Eddie gives them a harsh tug, ripping them at my center. He pulls my panties aside, replacing my hand with his own, and guiding the tip of his cock along my dripping pussy.

I feel him plus against me, whining noises leaving me as he enters me with one solid thrust. "There we go," he mutters pleased as he bottoms out inside me.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, we giggle almost stupidly before kissing. Eddie thrusts himself slowly into me, moving as gently as possible to have me grow accustomed to his cock.

"Please, don't stop. Feels so good," I whimper, having him pick up the pace while clenching his jaw. "Shit, I know, baby."

I am on cloud nine as he pounds into me, crying his name out loud and not caring who might hear it. Then Eddie pushes me onto my back, dice piercing my back, the pain adding to my pleasure while he loses himself in my pussy.

Animalist growls escape him; he throws his head back, exposing the delicious vein poking out there under his skin.

I reach out for it, but Eddie grabs my wrists with one of his hands, holding them above my head. I arch my back while his nails dig into my wrists and the soft skin of my butt.

It's ethereal. The pain and the pleasure dance together to the sound of the table scratching against the floor beneath it.

I feel myself tighten around his cock, the pressure inside me evolving to something more addicting than any drug we ever tried together. "I- I'm gonna- please," I whimper, not caring for the tears running down my face.

"So close for me," Eddie praises. "Shit, you're so hot like that, spread out on the desk, only for me. Only for me to see, to love... Only for me to fuck."

His words make me clench around him. "Eddie, I-" I whimper instead of finishing my cries, the lewd wet sounds of our doing clouding my mind.

He nods, eyes looking at me softly. His hips stutter for a second before he continues the brutal rhythmical assault on my pussy. "Show me, show me how good I make you feel. Come," he encourages me firmly. "Come, baby."

Suddenly, the coil inside me snaps. My legs shake violently as I come around Eddie, my eyes rolling into the back of my head before closing entirely.

His hips stutter again, thrust harder into me while losing all of their rhythm. "Fuck. Shit, shit, shit-" he curses, interrupting himself with a groan, hot cum, claiming me as his from the inside.

Letting go of my wrists, Eddie drops to his elbows. We're panting heavily, and I involuntarily clench around him as he begins to kiss my neck.

"You're still on the pill, right?" he asks softly, his eyes fixed on mine as I open them. I nod, both is us giggling, still drunk from our orgasm high.

Eddie is the first one to collect himself. He gets up and tucks himself away before pulling my panties back into place.

After helping me to sit up, he gives me space and takes a couple of steps back. I get off the desk, legs feeling like jello.

"Can- can you hold me?" I ask carefully, not knowing where we now stand. He smiles, nodding and taking my hands. "Of course, come here."

Eddie walks us to his thrown, sitting down in it and pulling me into his lap, arms wrapping around me. I feel safe as he holds me, kissing the top of my head. This for eternity would still be too short.

"Did you mean it?" I ask, propping myself up against his chest and looking into these beautiful chocolate brown eyes I love so much.

It's a leap of faith I have to take as I know that I can no longer be his friend, especially not after this.

He nods, a lopsided smile forming on his kissable lips. "I meant everything I said. I love you."

My soul almost exits my body. I feel like I could cry from joy. I waited forever to hear these words from my best friend, and now I know they sound more beautiful than imagination has made me believe.

"Did you mean it?" Eddie asks me back, insecure. I begin smiling. "I love you too."

He brings our lips together, kissing me gently. Every bit of insecurity has left my body. Let him spend time with Chrissy if he wants, and let her get high while he watches over her.

Eddie loves deeply—always has. That's why he always hoped for something in the long-term, retreating to affairs without feelings as he couldn't find it. If he says he loves me, I'll never have to fear as though he loves forever.

As he pulls away, his eyes sparkle like never before. Giddily he asks, "I- I'm right to assume that we're- we're..." I continue his sentence, giggling, "Boyfriend and girlfriend? Bonnie and Clyde?"

"King and Queen of Hellfire Club," he states proudly, looking over the mess we made on the table.

"You wanna roll the dice to check?" I ask cheekily, and he nods, letting me turn around in his lap, grab the ember-colored D20 from before, and roll it.

"Sixteen," Eddie sighs, relieved, and I giggle. "That was so close." He shrugs. "Still counts, though."

Kissing down my cheek, jaw, and neck, he asks, "You wanna come with me when I give Chrissy her stuff? Afterward, we can take a long hot shower and spend the night cuddling."

I grab the dice again, announcing, "Four." I shrug apologetically. "Eh. Sorry. Dice said no."

Eddie promptly loses his smile. "Don't listen to the dice; it's a liar," he asserts dramatically, tossing the D20 across the table. "I'm the Dungeon Master; what I say goes."

I giggle, his stern gaze almost breaking. Pressing another kiss on his dramatic pout, I say, "Well, if that's the case, let's pack our stuff and go home."

•

☞ Remember to Like, Reblog and/or leave Feedback!

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things s4 #stranger things #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #x reader #reader insert #x female reader #fem!reader #eddie munson angst

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deandoesthingstome · 9 months

Text

Welcoming Committee - Pt 2

Pairing: Captain Syverson X Reader/OFC (Drea); August Walker x OFC (Genevieve/Neve); Captain Syverson x OFC (Genevieve/Neve); August Walker x Reader/OFC (Drea)

Word Count: 447

Series Summary: You and Sy have been together for three years, but you still like to mix it up. The new neighbors down the street give you a chance to do just that.

Masterlist for series warnings. Heads up: this is 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings: Just some sexual innuendo. Nothing's happening yet.

A/N: No cut because it's short and sweet.

"Yeah, but don't act like it took all that much to convince me, Sy," I countered, shaking August's hand with a mischievous smirk.

"Shit, Sugar. Of course you're right." Sy dropped Genevieve's hand with a wink, one he usually reserved for real special occasions. Then he hooked his arm around August's shoulder and maneuvered him deftly down the hall. "Lemme tell ya. She went down on..."

I knew that the next words that would come out of Sy's mouth would be a proud divulgence of the way I'd begged to go down on him practically the minute we met. It had taken no time at all for me to show him I was the kind of woman he'd been searching for all along.

Not too clingy, not too jealous, yet completely ready to accept all the love he wanted to bestow on me every single day for the rest of his life. If sometimes that love consisted of him watching me get railed six ways to Sunday by the town's police detective or helping me bring home the dark haired, luscious lipped beauty at the bar so we could both give her pleasure before she returned the favors, then so be it.

It was so rare to find one of each at the same time. A man and a woman who would be both willing and able to take us on, give us what we both craved. Let us each watch the other fucking another and getting completely off on it.

I couldn't at the moment tell if Genevieve was into it. August's sly glance back to me told me he'd heard Sy's recount of our first meeting and he'd found it as arousing as Sy had wanted him to. Which was a lot.

"You can call me Neve. August does when we're alone. He loves to have something private between the two of us when everything else feels like it's for everyone else."

Neve was speaking my language. For no other reason would she share such an intimate detail about her relationship with August than to let me know she was already aware and intrigued at the possibilities the night would bring.

Had I been set up? Did Sy know all along who had moved in down the street and had he conspired with August already, giving him a chance to fill Neve in before I'd ever even met the Walkers properly? More importantly, with the way Neve's hands caressed the bare skin of my shoulders visible in the top Sy had picked out for this visit, did I even care if I was going to end up getting what I wanted without any drama anyway?

Part 3

#captain syverson x reader #syverson x reader #august walker fanfiction #captain syverson fanfiction #august walker #captain syverson #captain syverson x ofc/reader (drea)#august walker x ofc (genevieve)#henry cavill characters #i don't know guys #is this anything #part 2 of ?#welcoming committee

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kayhi808 · 8 months

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Neighbors - First Date

Bucky's Masterlist

You did some stalking on your new handsome neighbor. He's none other than Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Not exactly who you were expecting. You've watched the news; you know about the Winter Soldier. Maybe you shouldn't have been so flirty with him. He was an assassin after all. But...he must be good now, because he's an Avenger, right?

You shake your head to stop your daydreaming. You're at the Flatiron Room & just completed your set. The changing room in the back is little more than a closet, but you'll make do. You took extra care in getting ready for tonight, in hopes that Bucky will show up. You're all 1940's glamour. There's a knock on the door jamb & in the mirror's reflection you see Bucky there & you let out a gasp, "Bucky."

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he frowns at the floor.

You quickly turn in your chair, "I wasn't scared. Just surprised."

"You told me I should come down to see you."

You laugh, "I did, but I didn't see you in the audience, so I thought you couldn't make it. I'm happy you're here."

He nods as a small smile plays on his lips. "You were really great up there. Do you have another set? Or are you done for the evening?"

"I'm done."

"I got a table out by the fireplace if you'd like to join me for dinner."

Catching your bottom lip with your teeth to try & prevent your smile from being too big. "Sure, I'd like that. Um..." nervous laughter. "Let me change & I'll meet you outside?"

"Yea! Sorry, of course," as Bucky backs away from the doorway. "I'll meet you outside," and awkwardly leaves.

*****

You change out of your dress and back into your clothes from work, slacks and a sweater. You don't want to keep Bucky waiting. You sing at the Flatiron, once a week, but you've never visited here as a patron. You're quite excited.

Bucky is seated by the fireplace, but once he sees you, he jumps up to pull out your chair for you. It's small things like this that reminds you he's from another era. "Thank you. Sorry to have kept you waiting."

"Not a problem at all. It was worth the wait." You hide behind your menu, giddy from the compliment. "So, what's good here? What do you suggest?"

"I haven't actually eaten here. I only come in to do my set & I go home." Bucky gives you a disbelieving look. "But from what I hear, everything is pretty delicious. Oh! I take that back. I did have their 28 layer chocolate cake."

"28??"

"Decadence at its finest!" Bucky shakes his head. "If we don't have one tonight, I can always bring one home for you to try some other night." Bucky's eye muscle ticks at how casually you used the word home. He hasn't had a place to call home in such a long time. Let alone share it with anyone. "Are you ok?"

"Yea. Fine." Embarrassed, he turns back to his menu. You didn't mean anything forward or presumptuous by it. The building is your home & now that Bucky is your neighbor, it's his home too.

Once your orders are placed, and the waiter leaves, and Bucky makes another attempt at conversation. "What made you want to sing this type of music?"

"I adore 30's & 40's music! When I was little, my great-grandpa loved...it..." You trail off & look wide eye at Bucky. "Um...if you don't mind me asking. How old are you?"

"106." That proved to him that you know who he is. Part of him appreciates that you treated him like some regular guy.

Bucky has on his grumpy face & you bite your lip and nod. "You don't look a day over 35." He frowns more. "You're like the handsomest great-grandpa I've ever met." Nodding, "You're hot. Like sexy..."

"Stop," Bucky bites out.

You stop but can't help but give him a huge smile. You raise 3 fingers and swear, "I swear it."

"That's a boy scout salute."

"Girls can join the Boy Scouts now. They are just called Scouts."

"What?"

"Since 2019." Bucky squeezes his eyes shut & leans back in his chair. "Sorry," you whisper. Bucky sits back up and takes a long pull on his scotch. "I'm sorry I was teasing you. I can't image how difficult it has been for you to navigate everything." He huffs & gives you a smirk. "Anyways, my great grandfather was a musician, so when I'd visited, he'd aways have his music playing. We'd sing and dance together. I fell in love with it too. It brings back happy memories for me."

Bucky runs his tumbler across the table & admits with a sad smile, "Same. A life before the war. Before things got...crazy."

You stare at each other, silently for a moment. "Excuse me for a minute." You stand and Bucky stands as well. Another old mannerism from the past. You brush the lapel of his jacket. "You really do look nice this evening."

You walk away leaving Bucky to think if you're going to ditch him. He beats himself up about coming out at all. He moved out of Avenger's Tower to get away from people. Bucky likes his solitude and it got to be too much living in the Tower, so he thought he'd find a place to call his own. And he met you and you immediately got under his skin. He suddenly feels melancholy. Maybe the supper club reminds him too much of the past.

You made a request from your friend, Calvin, at the piano and make your way back to Bucky. He sees you approaching & he quickly stands to get your chair for you.

You place your hand on his arm to stop him, not realizing it was his Vibranium arm. The metal hard & cold under his jacket comes as a surprise, but you hope you masked it well. "Sargeant Barnes? Will you do me the honor?" You hold your arms out to him & he just stares at you with his now familiar frown. "Uh...will you dance with me?" You keep your arms open.

"Doll, I haven't danced in decades."

"Then it's the perfect time to start up again." He still hasn't moved to take you into his arms. "Bucky, people are staring at me. You're seriously just going to leave me hanging like this?" Your smile starts to waver, when you swear Bucky growls & pulls you up against him. "Thank you."

He's a very good dancer. He's a little stiff to start off with, either from being mad at you, or out of practice. He quickly warms up & you catch him smiling. He tries to spin you in a twirl, and you barely succeed in pulling it off. That starts him laughing and you're amazed at how laughter transforms him. He's even more handsome & boyish. You like brooding and sexy, but something about his laughter, fills a void in your chest.

It's still the same old story A fight for love and glory A case of do-or-die The world will always welcome lovers As time goes by

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur. The meal was excellent. Bucky relaxed more after the dance. You avoided talk of Avengers or the past. You kept conversation to "getting to know you" questions. Figuring out each other's "favorites". The Winter Soldier is really one big nerd and no one will convince you otherwise.

You make it back to your building, "I'm so glad you came tonight. Thank you for dinner, Bucky."

"Thanks for inviting me down to begin with."

You stand on tip-toes to place a soft kiss on his lips. You try to think of 1940s etiquette...you probably shouldnt be kissing him. He's going to call you a floozy. You smile against his lips.

Bucky grasps your face in his hands and angles your head to deepen the kiss. He tastes of chocolate cake and scotch. You sigh as he pulls away. "It's late. I gotta be heading home."

You look down the hallway at the door next to yours. "Yea. Get home safely. Don't get lost."

Laughing, he kisses your cheek. "G'nite doll."

"Night, Bucky."

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader

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streets-in-paradise · 1 year

Text

Where Are All the Gods? - Thor x (Fem) Quill!Reader/ Loki x (Fem) Quill!Reader

Word Count 1.7 K

Warnings: MCU styled standard pop culture references ( the reader is Star-Lord’s twin so...)

Summary: Loki has an excentric neigbor in the dungeons of the asgardian palace that quickly catches the attention of Thor during one of his visits. She seems to have a past that resonates with their own experiences and the god of mischief keeps himself skeptical about the veracity of her saids, but his adoptive brother is willing to listen her.

Notes: For the sake of this, let’s pretend Thor visited Loki at least once before the prision break that happened during the invasion of the dark elves.

Tags: @nocturnest @spngingerbread21

The prince of Asgard was in the dungeons for an informal visit to his brother. Nothing obliged him to do it, he told himself many times that he was going to give up on him. However, actually putting that idea to practice wasn’t easy because he still cared for Loki despite stumbling with his hate over and over again. Thor only wanted to make him company for a while fearing that the extreme isolation would make him even more deranged and there weren’t many others willing to make the visits. No one else, only him and the queen had some amount of attachment to him.

It didn’t take long for him to regret coming, as soon as the sarcastical verbal aggressions started. The situation progressively escalated into one more of their classical fights.

“ You are pathetic, as much of a simplistic sentimentalist as the species you adore so much.” Loki was rambling his hate away. “ Can’t you see that you need of me more than I have ever needed you? You are here for yourself, Thor.”

The god of thunder wasn’t listening anymore. Not only was the reproach old, but a noise in the background was catching his attention. One that Loki got used to after many days hoping to learn how to ignore it. A mindless environmental inconvenience that didn’t justify the use of magic, but was enough to annoy him pretty frequently.

You were singing in the cell right in front of his, acting like you would have been ignoring the argument when in fact you have been pendant of every word because you were bored. Extremely bored, and Loki wasn’t a very chatty neighbor. Singing to yourself for hours was a coping mechanism to keep your sanity, but also an easy way to get attention whenever possible. Even if it would start with him yelling at you to shut up, he would have to talk with you. Annoying the two asgardians into paying attention to you seemed more fun than being passively exposed to their family drama.

“ That the walls were shaking, the Earth was quaking “ You sang as if you would be back fooling around with Peter. “ My mind was aching and we were making it … “

Thor turned back following the direction of the sound and Loki was even more infuriated than usual when he realized you created a successful distraction midway into his venting.

“ Mind to give us a minute? I have been FORCED TO HEAR YOU for the ENTIRE DAY!!”

“ Your song… “ His adoptive brother inquired with unstoppable curiosity. “ I think I have heard it before.”

“ No way! The son of Odin is into AC/DC? Things are getting crazy!” You answered with excitement. “ … And you shook me all night long …”

You sang a little bit more into the short chorus and brought to him the needed realization.

“ STARK! That’s a song he likes,” He cheered the awakening of his musical memory.” it was hard to decipher without the music. This is outstanding, Loki! I think your companion of imprisonment must be from Midgard.”

“ Curious detail, it must be part of the punishment. Her constant singing will drive me insane.”

It was your opportunity to properly engage in their conversation and you didn’t waste it.

“ Hey, god of thunder and rock and roll! I heard you protect people from Earth. Would your code of honor make you be my lawyer? Spending quality time with your maniac brother has been fun, but I really need a way out of this.”

“ Excuse me, but even as a prince of Asgard I can’t interfere with a verdict given by the Allfather.” Thor calmly informed you. “ I fail to understand how a human found such an unlucky fate.”

Loki bursted into laughter.

“ Wait until you hear it, she has broken all human measurements for stupidity. It’s humiliating to serve sentence close to someone like her.”

“ You underestimate everyone the same way you overestimate yourself.” The son of Odin recalled. “ Which was your crime, midgardian lady?”

“ Theft.” You simply explained. “ I tried to take a valuable piece from the asgardian treasure.”

Loki’s demeanor was intimating you to give a complete confession.

“ Tell him which of the many artifacts in the palace was the target of your greed.”

You hesitated, then replied.

“ Odin’s Gungnir, the only thing this place holds that’s almost as valuable as your untouchable Mjolnir. Nothing personal, I just wanted it for its worth. I’m not planning to use it to destroy a planet like this one did with an Infinity Stone.”

It wasn’t precisely what Thor expected to hear and it raised even more questions.

“ The objects you mention are beyond the reach of any mortal, it makes no sense. Not even hearing the name of my hammer angers me because I am aware you would have never accomplished such an impossible heist.”

“ Did you sincerely think you were going to steal the most heavily guarded weapon in Asgard and walk out harmless?” Loki followed, the airs of superiority in his tone quickly increasing. “ You were imprisoned by your own moronic recklessness. Why did you want it, in the first place? The palace is brimming with treasures that are easier to obtain, heading for the spear of Odin is like screaming to the guards to lock you in a cell for the rest of your life.”

“ The client I got only pays for unique shit, Loki! He is not interested in a golden statue from your banquet hall.”

Thor witnessed the altercation with amusement. Insulting people to entertain himself in endless arguments was the closest Loki was to making friends.

“ If you ask me, that feels to me more like desperation than foolishness. “ He added in your defense. “ Not so long ago I thought myself capable of successfully invading Jotunheim all on my own because desperation to prove myself made me commit a reckless mistake.”

You showed him a half smile that Loki noticed with annoyance.

“ Nobody asked you, Thor. You shouldn’t even be here. “

The blond ignored him and gave a few steps closer to your cell.

“ From one desperate fool to another.. May I ask for the motivation behind yours? ”

Thor was soft spoken and sweet, so you found no problem in opening up just a bit to him.

“ My brother, I did it for him. For both of us, we want to start over away from the asshole who raised us.”

“ You have be kidding me!” Loki interrupted with frustration. “ Are you going to believe her? She is clearly trying to manipulate you using what she has learned by listening to us against you.”

“ I’m not, I swear. This is all a great irony. “ You defended yourself right away. “ Your pity is useless, you can’t get me out, so why would I lie to you? I do have a brother I love, Peter is all I have. It’s always the two of us against the universe, no one else cares for us... Well, Kraglin does, but the point is that we don’t fit in where we are. I wanted to make that sale so we would have enough to make it alone without having to worry. The man who raised us made us thiefs, it’s the only life we know since he stole us from our home as children.”

“ Is that the addition you make meant to move my emotions?” Loki mocked you with cold skepticism. “ Now is when I’m supposed to empathize with the tragedy of those who suffered from my fate. Let me be the first one telling you that you fail as a liar as you have failed as a criminal, your tale is unrealistic. The stealing of midgardian children serves no useful purpose. “

“ Sneaky advantages ideal for stealing.” You corrected him. “ We were smaller than most alien kids and if you would have read The Hobbit, you would know that little people make excellent burglars. Instead of a company of thirteen dwarves at our doorstep asking us to join for an adventure, my brother and I got kidnapped by the forty thieves of Ali Baba.”

Neither of them understood what you were trying to exemplify, but their confusion was fun to see.

“ Fate mocking us because Pete and I have the kind of bond you two never had is out of my control. “ Was your honest conclusion. “ How about having a few counseling sessions to pass time? Thor can come once a week and I can help you solve your problems. I failed as a criminal, but I’m good at being a sister for my bro.”

It was a subtle invalidating point for Loki’s insults that you delivered flawlessly

“ I refuse, I don’t need advice from an inferior creature. “

“ Then why are you here? If humans are so inferior, why aren’t you ruling us? We are cellblock mates because you failed as a dictator, you are a loser doomed to hear me. “

Thor stifled a chuckle to avoid making things worse.

“ You are not the worst company that can be found in this prison. Loki doesn't appreciate it, but he should.”

You exaggerated a lovely expression receiving the neutral compliment.

“ Thank you, Thor! He doesn’t value me in the slightest. Would you keep coming to visit me? I can tell you many awesome things about Earth if you want.”

Loki rolled his eyes, avoiding looking at you.

“ Don’t waste your time, he already has a midgardian and she isn’t a constant source of annoyance like you are.”

To his brother’s disgust,Thor felt comfortable with you. Your ways reminded him a bit of Darcy, quite funny and nice to be around. He was also curious about your story, which you began to tell but didn’t finish.

“ It would be my pleasure.” He answered directly to you, ignoring the insidious side commentary. “ The eloquent and heartfelt way in which you speak of your brother is a comfort for my troubled mind and I would like to learn more about midgardian traditions to surprise my friends.”

The agreement was sealed sharing polite smiles, then Thor turned back to face Loki.

“ See you soon, try to be a nicer companion.”

As he was heading out he could still hear the usual bickering between prisoners restarting.

“ Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods?” You were singing once more.“ Where’s the streetwise Hercules to fight the raisin odds?”

“ SHUT UP!!”

“ Don’t you like it? Too bad, it's from Peter’s favorite movie. Do you know how many times he made me watch it? I know it by heart so get ready.”

#mcu imagines #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #thor odinson x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader

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lostloveletters · 8 months

Text

Bruised Fruit Chapter 5 (Michael Corleone x OC)

Summary: No child feels as though they'll ever live up to their parents' expectations of them, but it's almost worse when their fiance doesn't. Both Gloria and Michael find this out the hard way.

Note: Just a little clarity, there’s no “J” in Italian, and the name Giacomo is pronounced almost like “Jah-koh-moh” making “Jack” or “Jackie” a common nickname for Italian-American immigrants with that name. It’s obviously less common of a name now among Italian-Americans than in the past. In reference to the brief discussion about Laika between Gloria and Jackie, the truth about Laika’s fate wasn’t revealed to the public until the 2000s, after the fall of the USSR. Prior to that, Soviet accounts implied the below.

Warnings: A lot of family-related angst, and period-typical slut-shaming, but that's about it.

Chapter 4 | AO3 Link | Masterlist

Do not interact if you're under 18 or post thinspo/ED content. I will block you.

By the end of April, their lives had been packed neatly in boxes and transported to New York. Almost the entire family had relocated to the Long Beach area. Michael told Gloria that before the family’s move to Nevada, the entire block had been like the Lake Tahoe compound, walled off and closely guarded with only family living inside the perimeter. After the move, the wall was torn down, and all of the houses except theirs had been sold off to strangers.

Gloria appreciated the change in the neighborhood’s occupancy, excited at the prospect of socializing with people other than Corleones and their associates. Some of the neighbors she’d met on her morning walks up and down the street were especially friendly and welcoming. She could hardly keep track of the number of invitations for coffee or dinner she’d tentatively accepted on her and Michael’s behalf.

After all, a few of the housewives didn’t hesitate to tell Gloria how odd the old neighbors were. Nice enough, but kept to themselves. Always had people coming and going at all hours of the day or night. ‘Isn’t that so strange?’ they’d ask Gloria, eyeing her as if hoping for some insight on the situation. All she could do was shrug, promising that her family wasn’t antisocial and she’d just have to check with Michael when they’d be free to visit. At the very least, she could bring Anthony and Mary over in the afternoons for playdates. The mid-school year move hadn’t affected Mary much, but it was clear Anthony missed his friends back in Nevada. Still, it seemed like everyone on the block had kids around their age.

“I ran into a few of our neighbors on my walk,” Gloria said one morning. “They want us to come over sometime and—“

“What did you tell them?” Michael asked.

“Just that we moved back here from Lake Tahoe because you thought it’d be better for the kids. Why?”

“That’s fine, just be careful what you tell people outside the family.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. In their years-long affair, she’d hardly told anyone about him. The only people who knew even any details had been his family. Her own family didn’t even know he was in her life until she called to tell them about the engagement.

“Do you think I want these people to know about me ? ‘Oh, the slut moved into the neighborhood. Hide your husbands.’”

“Don’t call yourself that.”

“Michael, I was just—“

“I don’t care,” he said sternly. “I’ve never called you that. I’ve never let anyone else call you that or anything similar.”

Gloria fell silent as ‘let’ hung heavy in the air. Such revelations made her uneasy, reckoning with how she and Michael could have been on such different wavelengths in how they regarded their relationship for so long. She wondered who had called her that, or tried, at least, and what he’d said or done in response.

“They only know what I want them to know,” she said. “I understand you’re busy, but it wouldn’t hurt to be friendly. People noticed how whoever used to live here never bothered with anyone.”

He sighed. “Why don’t we work on seeing your parents first, and then we can socialize with the neighbors, alright?”

Her parents. Only two days until she and Michael went over to their house for lunch, her parents begrudgingly agreed to host her and their future son-in-law for a meal that wouldn’t be as significant as dinner. She wondered how he fared with Kay’s family, whether they had any clue as to what Michael did for a living the way hers did.

She was quiet until he left for the day, giving her a soft kiss. She sat at the kitchen table, scanning over the day’s newspapers until her back began to ache from the hard wooden chair. As she made her way into the living room, she tried to think of how to occupy the rest of her day. The house had been almost completely unpacked and all of the new furniture delivered. Anthony and Mary were in school, and as much as she loathed the idea of housework, that was mostly taken care of by the hired help who puttered around the place, seemingly reluctant to socialize with her. She’d expressed to Michael that she felt uncomfortable being waited on, which to him meant that they should simply avoid unnecessary interactions with her.

She hadn’t bothered keeping in touch with any of her old friends when she moved to Las Vegas for the job at the casino, not expecting to move back to New York. After the novelty of her postcards had worn off, they’d simply lost touch. Not that it would have mattered, they were probably all in different houses with new phone numbers anyway, vastly different people than when she’d left them. She had surely changed over the years, too. So her greatest hope were her new neighbors, solidly middle class and her age or older, with their PTA meetings and Avon parties, nothing like the nightclubs and shows that had been at her fingertips in Vegas. Still, it was something. She didn’t dislike spending time with Connie or Sandra or any of the other Corleone women by any means, but if that was to be the extent of her social life, she may as well have been a dog following its tail for fun.

Gloria flinched when the phone rang, shocking her out of her thoughts.

“There’s a man on the phone for you,” Margaret, one of the maids, said. She was the first to be hired when they moved into the New York home. An older woman with graying hair and kind green eyes who humored Gloria’s conversations every so often. “He says he’s your brother?”

“I’ll take it. Thank you, Margaret,” Gloria said, rushing over to the phone. “Jackie! How are you?”

“Good, I was wondering when you’re free to get coffee? Me and Viv have time this afternoon and–”

“I’m free right now. Where should I meet you?”

“How about that diner by my house? The one we went to when you were here for Thanksgiving.”

“Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Gloria said, hanging up with a wide smile on her face.

Things had been so busy, she couldn’t remember the last time she went out for something besides errands.

On the notepad next to the phone, she quickly scrawled, ‘Getting coffee with Jackie and Viv. Be back later.’ She grabbed the car keys and dashed out the door.

Since the neighborhood was no longer exclusively occupied by Corleones, the usual bodyguards couldn’t hang around outside the house so openly. A relief for Gloria, who despite being able to otherwise come and go as she pleased, hated feeling as though she were asking permission to go anywhere. With none of them to be seen, Gloria got into her car–a shiny new Cadillac that was another engagement present from Michael–and made the fifteen minute drive to the diner.

As soon as Gloria saw Jackie and Vivian already sitting in a booth, she nearly lost a shoe in her rush to hug her brother, feeling her chest tighten at being around him again after so much had happened since they’d last seen each other. Her thoughts drifted to Fredo. From what she could tell, Michael was hardly on speaking terms with him when he died. Surely he must have regretted not reconciling sooner.

She could still remember when Jackie finally came home from his service in the Pacific, he’d been thinner than she remembered, more haggard too, his hug feeling as though it were missing something compared to the one he’d given her at the train station before he shipped off for good after boot camp. For a while, she felt almost suspicious of him, as if someone who looked like her brother had come home. He didn’t act the way she remembered and had no interest in explaining why he was that way. It took only one night terror for him to decide to get his own apartment, quietly saying he needed space.

Things only seemed to look up a few months later when he met his wife, Vivian. He’d taken up working as a truck driver, making local deliveries at night to stave off the horrors that’d replay in his sleep. He’d regularly drop off medical supplies at the hospital Vivian worked at as a nurse, helping with receiving late deliveries sometimes when the night shift was slow. Most people regarded Vivian as brash and opinionated, but Gloria admired her tenacity. It had to have been what breathed some life back into her brother after so long.

Since then, Jackie got a job at the post office, Vivian still a nurse, and Gloria never went more than a few months without seeing them. The thought of being able to see them more often made her feel at ease for the first time since the move.

“Hey,” Jackie said, laughing a bit, “I missed you too.”

“It’s great to see you again, Glo,” Vivian said as Gloria gave her a hug almost as strong as the one she gave Jackie. “We went ahead and ordered your usual for you.”

“We’re glad you’re back in town. I mean, I guess we could’ve tried harder to visit you in Nevada, but–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gloria assured him. “So, how have things been?”

“Every day’s the same,” he said. “It’s all going as good as it can.”

That was how he preferred things for going on fifteen years. Simple and predictable. A go-with-the-flow type of guy who avoided conflict to an almost problematic degree, which made him the perfect match for Vivian, a go-getter who preferred to take the lead. The first time Gloria met her, she admired her determination and audacity, traits that got her promoted to a nurse supervisor only a few years into working at the hospital.

A waiter brought over coffee for the three of them, along with a slice of apple pie for Jackie, a cheese danish for Vivian, and Italian rainbow cookies for Gloria. She poured the milk on the table into her mug, sipping it to check the taste.

“Your dad says you’re marrying a gangster,” Vivian said.

“Not so loud!” Gloria hissed, practically slamming her mug down.

Jackie cracked the slightest smile. “We didn’t hear the end of it at Sunday dinner.”

“God, we’re going over there for lunch soon,” she groaned.

“Glad I won’t be around for that,” Vivian said. “What’s he like, your fiance? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”

“It wasn’t that serious to begin with. At least, I thought it wasn’t. Up until two months ago, he was married,” she said, grateful Jackie wasn’t one who cared for details or specifics, though she knew she’d end up telling Vivian everything anyway at some point. “Michael cares a lot about his family. You could never tell, but he has a great sense of humor when I can coax it out of him. He’s…someone who knows how to get what he wants.”

“What does he want from you?”

“A son.”

“Is that what you want?”

“You remember a couple years back, when the Ruskies sent that dog into space, knowing she wasn’t gonna be coming back?” Gloria asked.

Vivian nodded. “Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

Laika. The papers called her Muttnik. A stray dog plucked from the streets of Moscow and lifted into the annals of scientific history. Survived about a week in space and then euthanized through poisoned food before her oxygen ran out. She wouldn’t have survived the return to earth. Sputnik 2 burned up as it raged back down through the atmosphere. Her demise was inevitable, essential, even, to the mission’s success. But she was alone up there. Terrified as the stars twinkled in her eyes the way no one else had ever seen them.

“I think I know how she must have felt.”

“You and me both,” Jackie said.

The days leading up to Michael meeting her parents for the first time flew by far more quickly than Gloria would have preferred. They wouldn’t be bringing Anthony and Mary to meet them just yet, not when Gloria knew her father was going to have choice words about her engagement to Michael regardless of who was there.

Her parents’ resentment toward the New York crime families stemmed from the organizations meddling in politics and union affairs for their own personal gain. The draft dodging during the war didn’t help either, though that thankfully wasn’t the case for Michael. Her parents worked respectable jobs, Jack a stonemason and a union man, and Julia a typist after two years of night classes when Jackie was barely a toddler.

Despite her warnings about her dad’s inevitable hostility toward Michael, her fiance seemed unfazed, confident that he’d somehow be able to change her notoriously stubborn father’s mind. That confidence was unwaning until her mom welcomed them in through the front door, her dad standing a few feet behind her with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, hands in his pockets, brows furrowed.

“Dad, this is Michael, my fiance,” Gloria said. “Michael, this is my dad, Jack.”

Michael extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Marino.”

Her father’s tone was flat as he shook Michael’s hand. “Yeah, you too.”

“I’d like to speak with you privately—“

Jack shook his head dismissively. “I gotta talk to my daughter first.”

Michael’s jaw clenched, though he nodded, putting his hand on Gloria’s lower back. “Go on, darling. I’ll keep your mother company.”

She gave him a terse smile, kissing his cheek. She hoped her mother wouldn’t be so blatant in her distaste for Michael. Julia was an anomalous blonde among an extended family of brunettes and seemed to be keenly aware of the unfortunate stereotypes surrounding her intelligence as a result of her hair color. As a result, she read extensively and went to libraries and museums to attend talks by all manner of authors, historians, and artists. She knew more about politics than most of the pundits in the papers through her own personal involvement with campaigns. Gloria always felt as though she fell short of her mother’s academic aspirations for her, working service jobs and moving to Las Vegas on a whim instead of going to college.

She expected Michael to be thoroughly grilled by her mother on his attending Dartmouth nearly two decades prior. Her mention of the Ivy League school had piqued Julia’s interest, especially considering Michael abandoned his studies after joining the Marines. Then, he returned home to be pulled back into the orbit of the world he was trying to escape from, the one that made her parents reluctant to welcome him into their home, their family.

Sparing another glance at Michael, Gloria followed her father up the stairs, creaky old wood muffled by the carpeting that’d been laid down over it less than a year prior, easier on her parents’ joints as they got older. Vivian had already argued with them about moving their bedroom downstairs. That was a compromise.

With both Gloria and Jackie out of the house for some time, their childhood bedrooms had been requisitioned into a craft room and a guest room, respectively. Gloria’s old bed had long since been moved out, replaced by mismatched tables and TV trays with spools of thread and paints left haphazardly on them. Some finished paintings and embroideries hung on the patterned wall along with framed family photos.

“Dad, you really shouldn’t have spoken to Michael like that,” she said.

“I have to deal with that shit in the union and now in my own home,” her father huffed, lighting another cigarette. “Do you really want to marry him? If you don’t, I’ll tell him to leave you alone. I don’t care what his last name is, I’m not afraid of him.”

She had to turn away from her father slightly so as to not let him see her face become flushed, tears nearly welling up in her eyes. Her gaze landed on a clipping from a local paper he had framed, a short article about an award she’d won in grade school for selling the most cookies during St. Catherine’s annual bake sale fundraiser. The article had hardly been a margin in one of the back pages, the accompanying photo of Gloria with a nun was small enough to be laughable, practically a waste of ink, yet he kept it.

“Gloria?”

Clearing her throat, she said, “I love Michael. This’ll be good for me. I’m not getting any younger, that’s what all of mom’s letters said.”

He groaned. “Him, though? Christ, Glo, when you said you were moving out to Las Vegas, we hoped you’d meet some nice, hard-working Western man out there.”

“A cowboy?” she joked weakly.

No, that wasn’t what her father had meant at all. Jack and Julia had raised their children as cultural chameleons. English was spoken at home, and only English. They were Americans, after all. Her mother was born to Napolitano immigrants in Brooklyn and given the Anglicized version of the name Guilia. Her father emigrated from Sicily with the rest of his family at the age of ten but took great pride in his adopted country. In his teens, he’d taught himself how to speak English without a heavy accent by mimicking radio hosts and began going by Jack, rather than his given name Giacomo.

“Better than a gangster,” he hissed. “They’re all disgraceful, but that family is among the worst. That farce of a hearing, as if they’d ever be held responsible for all the damage they’ve done, the lives destroyed, the blood in the streets, the drugs, the politicians, even my own damn union—“

“Please don’t—“

“Has he got you living in some fantasy world? Where all that shit won’t touch you? That if you look the other way or keep your head in the sand, nothing will happen? He has no right promising you peace or safety when he deals in the opposite.”

Gloria could only stand silent as her father ranted. She could hardly imagine what he’d say to Michael. In a brutal irony, this man of unwavering principles recognized that his daughter’s union would make him untouchable to this figure of the shadowy institution he so despised. From then on, every time he would see his son-in-law, he’d be a buzzing fly, an unwanted, brutal conscience until his natural death.

“When you come to this country, you scrape by and try to make an honest living while becoming part of things here. Him and his ilk? They bring their violence and barbarism over from their Stone Age caves to build themselves castles, and we hard-working Italian-Americans get lumped in with those savages.”

Jack and Julia considered themselves patriotic, envisioning the promises of American prosperity for their children. They couldn’t have been prouder when Jackie signed up to join the Marines after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Active in the war effort at home, they bought war bonds and rationed, even sold their car to contribute the steel and rubber.

Finally turning to face her father again, she said, “Michael was a war hero. He has those dreams, like Jackie does, where he thinks he’s there again. The other half of the time he can’t even sleep because it stays with him.”

“I’m glad something has,” her father grumbled.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Look. I respect what he did for this country, and only that. You don’t forsake what’s right for what's easy, Gloria. If you want to marry into that family, fine, you’re an adult who can make her own decisions.”

After a few moments of silence, she sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Her father’s weathered face softened, and he took her in his arms. “Hey, c’mon, you could marry a Martian, and I’d still love you.”

“I think you’d prefer that.”

He laughed, releasing her from the hug. “I think I would.”

“Try to give him a chance, alright? Michael isn’t as bad as you make him out to be,” she said, as if her suspicions surrounding Fredo’s death hadn’t been occupying her subconscious since the move back to New York.

As far as she knew, Michael hadn’t killed anyone himself. She suspected he had committed the Sollozzo and McClusky murders despite his denying such at the hearing. No, the Don didn’t kill, from what she pieced together over the years, he ordered others to do so. Delegation was key in that thing of his. The hierarchy existed to protect those at the top. They were untouchable, at least, that was the idea. She’d never asked Michael about the murders of the Dons of the other families. The gossip mill at work had run strong for weeks following Moe Greene’s murder, surely no coincidence that he was dead, giving the Corleone family their opportunity to move in on the casino after he unequivocally turned down their offer to buyout his stake.

He nodded, patting her shoulder. “Alright, honey.”

Fear flashed in Jack’s gaze as he looked at his daughter, momentarily soul crushing, the prospect that he had told her what she already knew and didn’t care, not enough to do anything about it. Out of everyone in her life, her father had always been in the most denial about her selfish streak despite his and Julia’s best efforts to raise her differently. The wool had been torn from his eyes the second she defended Michael, however weakly she’d done so.

Gloria could hardly manage a weak smile as she and her father made their way back downstairs. Faint laughter grew a bit louder as they approached the two in the living room, Gloria relieved that it seemed like her mother wasn’t too hard on Michael.

Julia and Michael stood in front of a wall covered in family photos. Somehow, no matter the occasion, Julia always found a way to make room for more frames to be squeezed in.

“—well, you know how she is.”

Michael snickered. “Believe me, I know.”

“Oh, you’re just in time. I ran out of embarrassing stories to tell your fiance,” Julia said upon noticing Gloria standing in the doorway.

Gloria rolled her eyes, though her amusement fell slightly when she noticed her father had hung back by the stairs. “Dad’s waiting,” she sighed.

Julia gave Michael a fake salute. “Good luck up there, Marine.”

Michael smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Marino.”

As he neared Gloria, he took her hand in his and kissed the top of it, a fondness in his gaze that felt surprisingly intimate for him to express with others around. She watched as Michael followed her father as he trudged back up the stairs.

“C’mon, honey. Help me get lunch ready,” Julia said, leading her daughter into the kitchen.

“I hope you like Michael more than dad does,” Gloria said when the men were out of earshot.

“He’s polite, humored my little stories, but Glo, he’s divorced,” her mother lamented. “You won’t get a wedding mass.”

“He’s petitioning for an annulment. His ex-wife had an abortion while he was in Havana. He didn’t know.”

Julia’s eyes widened as she made a sign of the cross. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

“It’s been really hard on him.”

“Can I ask you—how long have you and Michael been…involved? It seems quite soon for him to remarry.”

“About four years.”

“Gloria,” her mother groaned. “I thought I raised you better than that.”

“I know, mom, but we’re doing the right thing now and getting married,” she said, hesitating before speaking the only words that could possibly salvage her mother’s opinion of the situation. “He wants to have a baby with me.”

“Doing things a little backwards, don’t you think?”

“When have I ever done anything forwards?”

“Never. I’m surprised all this is happening in the first place,” she said, silent for a moment as she took stock of her daughter. “A pregnancy hasn’t stuck yet, and you’re glad for it.”

Gloria huffed. “He has two kids already and I barely know how to interact with them—and they’re good. They’re sweet kids. But they know I’m not their mother, and he wants me to be.”

“Two kids? Why didn’t you bring them over?”

“I’m sure Anthony and Mary would love to watch their father get the third degree.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “Bring them over for dinner Friday night. We’ll behave. What do they like to eat?”

“About the same as me,” Gloria said.

She watched in amusement as her mother stood up from the kitchen table, rushing over to take stock of what was in the refrigerator. The warm glow from inside the appliance highlighted the deep smile lines on Julia’s face and illuminated her excitement at the prospect of finally having children in the house again.

“I can make chicken cutlets and mashed potatoes. Maybe a nice Jell-O salad, too,” she mused aloud. “Then I can get a strawberry shortcake from the place up the street for dessert.”

“I gotta check with Michael, mom.”

“You love him?” she asked, as she closed the fridge, startling her daughter with the abrupt question.

Gloria struggled to find the words that would make her mother understand that she did, in fact, love her fiance, when saying as much did little to convince her father of it. “In Las Vegas—I didn’t see anyone for as long as I saw him. None of them were more than a few weeks, but with him, for years. Things have been so different since the engagement. I had a lot more fun loving him before all of this.”

“Love and marriage aren’t always the same thing, Glo. Most people only get one or the other.”

Except for Jack and Julia. Despite having gone to different high schools, they met their senior year at a multi-parish retreat that brought the city dwellers out to Long Island for a weekend. Their mutual admiration for St. Francis was the ice breaker that led to a bond over their shared idealism and passion for eliminating the inequality they saw so rampant in the city. For months, Jack and Julia were friends, crafting elaborate plans to change the world for the better. Neither remembered when exactly their friendship morphed into a romance, but by the winter of 1923, they were married. Less than a year later, Jackie was born, and changing the world was put on hold to raise a family.

“You and dad got both.”

“We got lucky,” Julia said, glancing in the direction of the stairway as they began to lightly creak. “Maybe we got too lucky, didn’t save enough for you.”

Michael and her father returned downstairs, both looking some degree of annoyed. Gloria almost thought they’d be leaving prematurely, but instead, Michael told her mother he was looking forward to lunch. Jack’s eye twitched ever so slightly.

They sat down at the circular kitchen table, Michael and Jack across from one another. Lunch was a simple pasta salad with antipasto that Julia set on the table. Gloria could hardly eat, waiting for the other shoe to drop and one of the men inevitably leap across the table and throw the first punch.

Instead, Michael was calm and collected as ever as he led most of the conversation, her father occasionally chiming in, but mostly eating in silence. Gloria was taken aback when Michael shifted his chair closer to her, resting his hand on her knee beneath the table. His affection was usually reserved for when they were alone. Then again, even without her father’s blessing, which she was sure Michael requested and was unequivocally withheld, they were a legitimate couple set to be married, no longer clandestinely meeting in hotel rooms.

Perhaps he wanted to prove as much, show them how seriously he took his relationship with their daughter despite Gloria already emphasizing it to them herself.

After such intense conversations with her parents, lunch flew by, much to Gloria’s relief. As soon as she noticed her father becoming tense again, she mentioned Anthony and Mary, and both of her parents lit up at the prospect of having them over. She was grateful that for all that Michael had supposedly done, they didn’t hold any of it against his children. For their devout Catholicism, she found it interesting that the concept they had the most vocal opposition to was original sin, the idea that misdeeds are passed down, for each subsequent generation to shoulder and inevitably add on to. In their idealism, they believed people were inherently good and instead chose to do wrong because it was easy.

Gloria felt exhausted by the time the meal was over, eyelids heavy when she and Michael got into the car.

“What did my dad say to you?” she asked, after he’d driven a few blocks away.

“You really wanna know?”

Gloria groaned. “Oh my god, was it really that bad?”

“He feels afraid and threatened right now. He’ll see reason soon enough,” he said. “Your mother’s more personable. She has the same sense of humor as you.”

“I can tell them we can’t do dinner Friday night.”

Michael shook his head. “It’s alright.”

“Really? After all that?”

“I know how much they mean to you.”

“You mean a lot to me,” she said, hesitant before adding, “and I’m embarrassed at how they treated you.”

“I wish my mother had more time to come around to you. She thought the family was changing too much by making you part of it.” His voice was quiet then, almost as if he were talking to himself. “Didn’t seem to matter that you’re Sicilian. That almost made it worse, like she expected more from you.”

Gloria’s stomach dropped. She’d been unapologetically honest when speaking to his mother at the engagement party. They hardly interacted following that encounter, though Michael visited his mother often to check on her, especially as she became unable to visit their house. At the time, she’d chalked up his returning home distressed to Carmela’s failing health. She’d never considered some of it was because of her. Carmela already had made up her mind about Gloria before even meeting her, much like Jack about Michael, and Gloria merely confirmed her assumptions about her future daughter-in-law.

Calling herself a slut even in the context of outsider opinion just a few days earlier had triggered something in Michael. Undoubtedly Carmela, unimpressed with her son’s choice of a new bride, had thought the same of her and expressed as much to him. Bile rose in her throat. He shouldn’t have had to waste his breath defending her honor, or rather, lack thereof, to his sick mother, of all people. He could have let it go. She would have preferred he did. For how close the Marinos were, the Corleones were ten times that, and his taking up for her to the family matriarch, his own mother, made her head spin.

As her troubled gaze shifted to his profile, he reached over, taking her hand in his and giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#michael corleone x oc #the godfather #the godfather fanfic #the godfather x oc #michael corleone #michael corleone x ofc #michael corleone fanfic #the godfather part ii #the godfather imagine #michael corleone imagine #bruised fruit fic

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annasinterests · 10 months

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don't look at me like that unless you mean it

prologue

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a/n: i am VERY excited and nervous to finally be posting on tumblr after having it since like,, 2014,, which is embarrassing as hell to admit.. but fuck it we ball! anyways, here is my first ever fic i'm sharing on this platform. i tend to write up a lot of things but have always been too intimidated to post them, so this is me trying to get over that! also, please know that this piece is completely optional. i only wrote it to give context on the relationship reader and joel have, plus ellie as well, but you absolutely can skip past it if that's not your cup of tea, or check back in later once i post more chapters! also, please bear with me as i get used to posting and including all the necessary tags and warnings & whatnot.

word count: 2.7k

pairings: joel miller x f!reader

warnings & tags: minors dni, swearing, mentions of violence & death, canon events, strangers to friends, friends to lovers? (we'll find out), slowburnish, pining, age gap (14-ish yrs) — please tell me if i missed anything!

You'd been at each other's side for nearly seventeen years, first meeting when you arrived in the Boston QZ almost eight years after outbreak day. To say you were a hardened survivor was putting it lightly; you had endured every unimaginable loss possible. Tragedy became a constant companion of yours as you lost beloved friends and family, and you grew to know nothing but anger and violence.

At first, you thought nothing of him. He was just your neighbor across the hall, coming and going at all different points throughout the day and night. Another face in the sea of struggling people. Your paths occasionally crossed during the same shift of the same shitty jobs FEDRA assigned for a cruel amount of ration cards. You'd exchange brief nods every so often, and on the rare occasion, a mutter that was only decipherable as a greeting.

On a chance encounter beyond the walls of the QZ, you ran into him with another woman during one of your smuggling runs. You had frozen, with no indication of the kind of people they were, they could've either kept it to themselves or reported you, essentially sentencing you to death. Thankfully, a higher power had been on your side that day as the woman had concluded you weren't a threat to them, simply giving you a nod before they carried on. It was a subtle understanding that passed around you three. You worry about your business, and I'll worry about mine.

Things shifted after that.

The more you would see them, either together or separately, the more of a connection began to form. It started off small– bowing your heads at one another in passing, giving the faintest of smiles. Notes would be slipped under your door from time to time with a tip regarding stashed goods or potential dangers within the QZ and outside of it. It would be signed off by 'Tess' or 'Joel', with Tess being the more frequent sender. In return, you'd do the same, leaving helpful tips and sometimes doubling what they had left for you.

It graduated to in-person visits, primarily initiated by Tess. Joel kept his distance for the most part, despite literally living across the hall. That didn't mean that his lingering gaze went unnoticed by you, though.

Over the next twelve years, you banded together as a trio. Trust was one of the rarest commodities to come across, and you had found it in one another. Over time, your walls had come down, and you shared parts of yourself that had been long buried for years. You’d engaged in casual conversations, tactical strategies, and even light-hearted banter at times.

Smuggling operations became a team effort, though often it left you to work with Joel alone. Tess would go off on her own for recon, utilizing her expertise and connections to gather vital information, also because she was way more likely to be reciprocated in her efforts compared to Joel. Nonetheless, you formed a formidable duo, working seamlessly together to navigate the dangers when they presented themselves.

There became an unspoken understanding between you and Joel that communicated in volumes. You developed a rhythm, anticipating each other's moves and providing support when it was needed the most. A dynamic that had set your relationship apart from Tess.

Through the long nights, you both shared snippets of your lives before the outbreak. He spoke of growing up in Texas, the memories of a time when life was normal and filled with simple pleasures, like playing guitar. He mentioned a distant brother, Tommy, who was somewhere out west. He'd worked as a contractor, though dreamed of building something of his own. He spoke with a hint of regret, remembering the long hours he worked while still struggling to make ends meet. Reluctantly, he'd even shared the fact that he had a daughter, though he hardly said her name or other details. The most you learned was that he had a daughter, and then he didn't.

You enlightened him about how you lived a calm life. You grew up in the mountains, which explained your affinity for nature, and you found solace in music. You had both your parents and a brother, who was your closest ally. If one of you were doing something, the other tagged along with no questions asked. It was a month in to your last year of high school when outbreak day came along, forever fucking up your life. You recounted the graphic and harrowing moments of loss, the pain of watching your loved ones fall one by one in the span of two years. The next four years were spent traveling alone in search of a place to close your eyes without fearing that something was coming for you, whether it was alive or dead. Through whispers on the road, you heard of the Boston QZ, one of the remaining zones that retained enough stability. You didn't believe it, deeming it as something that was too good to be true after the world had been so cruel to you, but what else did you have to lose?

You still carried on your work the same, but it was clear that your relationship had shifted once again, this time more personally. He looked at you differently, like he was truly seeing you in a way no one else ever had. It showed in the way his voice was softer when he spoke to you and became overall more attentive towards you. He'd stop by your place more often, either sticking around for a few minutes or several hours. But it was in moments of vulnerability that spoke to the depth of your relationship. When you suffered serious injuries that left you barely conscious, he was there without hesitation. With gentle hands and meticulous care, he'd clean and patch you up, letting you rest your weary body against his for however long you needed.

You couldn't deny the growing affection in your heart for him by the frequent moments in which you felt a closeness that went beyond friendship. There was an unspoken intimacy, a silent understanding of the uncharted territory your hearts were treading, saying stay with me, and, why wouldn't i?

Insert Ellie into your lives. A young, electrifying girl from the Fireflies, a group you'd come to loathe.

You three had been on your way to find Robert, the dickbag that sold your guns, when you got caught in a scuffle between FEDRA and the Fireflies, being forced to flee and take an alternate route, leading you right to Marlene, Queen Firefly, as you liked to call her. Upon discovering she had your guns, she proposed an exchange: Smuggle a girl out of the QZ for the guns. You and Joel scoffed at the idea, immediately wanting to call it off, but somehow, someway, Tess convinced you both to go forward with it.

She was everything you expected her to be at first; unaware and a liability. She eyed you three cautiously, not really okay with the idea of leaving Marlene, but not having another option to go with either. In pushing towards the capitol, you reminded her of what felt like every five minutes to stay down, stay quiet, and do exactly as told as Tess led and Joel trailed behind.

After several attacks and encounters with infected, the true reason was revealed as to why Marlene needed the fourteen-year-old smuggled out: She was immune to infection. Even after the girl's explanations of finding a cure in a lab out west, you shook with laughter in disbelief. How many times had you heard this shit before? Tess, seemingly the only one to believe her, executively decided to push forward, earning disconcerted looks from you and Joel.

You couldn't have said you were surprised when you turned up to the empty capitol, the Fireflies once again proving how they were fucking unreliable as always. Your smugness quickly turned to mild panic as Tess began to have a meltdown, ultimately confessing her bite that made time stop ticking for you. Fuck.

It had been sixteen years since you last lost someone you cared about in the same way, your ability to react and process was nonexistent, so you just stood and stared as if it would disappear. With FEDRA looming beyond the doors, Tess had urged you both to take Ellie and find Tommy, find a way to get her to that damned lab.

So that's what you did.

The first few months were rough on all three of you. You faced infected, as expected, but it was harder to deal with each other more than anything. Ellie tried to find where she stood with you and Joel, wanting to help at every turn but keeping her head down to stay out of the way. You respected how she held her own and didn't take shit from Bill when stopping through his town, and how she handled losing people as quickly as she met them, like Sam and Henry. Despite her efforts, you often found Joel not letting up, only praising her once in a blue moon.

You realized it wasn't so bad after all, being with Ellie. She had spirit and faith, traits you hadn't seen someone possess in quite some time. In her presence, you found yourself rediscovering the capacity for joy and laughter, something that had felt distant and unattainable for far too long. You watched as she got to see and experience things in her life for the first time, like walking through forests; things that you had taken for granted. Her needs, before a burden, had now become a responsibility you willingly tended to, making sure she was the first to eat, drink, and sleep at all times. Each night, you watched her drift off, knowing she was protected by you and Joel and catching a feeling of a profound sense of purpose.

Stumbling into Tommy and his crew wasn't the reunion that you hoped for when fall rolled around. Ellie and Joel's relationship had taken a turn when she caught wind of him wanting to leave her with Tommy, figuring that he could do a better job, though you disagreed. Consequently, it led to her and Joel getting into an argument while you and Tommy awkwardly lingered outside of an abandoned ranch house. And though you were outside, you could still hear bits and pieces, finally hearing the name of Joel's daughter and understanding the pain that shaped his actions towards Ellie.

Upon coming to Eastern Colorado University weeks later, the Fireflies once again proved to be unreliable in staying in a fucking singular location. While you found scattered recordings that indicated them to be in Utah, you also found yourselves caught between hunters and infected, leading to yet another one of the traumatizing moments in your life: Joel falling off a second story and being impaled in the abdomen by a jagged piece of rebar. You and Ellie had managed to defend yourselves while also protecting Joel, talking to him through gritted teeth and coaxing him to move, repeating the words like a mantra.

The winter had been particularly cruel that year, leaving you short on food. You and Ellie had eventually found shelter in an abandoned lake house, securing Joel and carefully tending to him for the following weeks. Deep down, you knew Joel's body couldn’t continue fighting sepsis without proper medicine, and the thought of him dying brought you to near tears. While out hunting alone, you had run into two men. They’d traded you medicine for the deer, but not without leaving you with the eerie fact that they knew you, and knew you killed their men back at the university. You had fled back to Joel and Ellie as quickly as possible, sticking the syringe in him with shaky hands as you urgently warned her to be ready to face danger once again.

Your gut instinct had been right as the next morning you had heard the sound of people nearby, scrambling to tell Ellie to stay with Joel while you led them away and strictly emphasizing that she was not to leave. As you lured off and killed a few hunters, they unfortunately bested you, knocking you out cold and dragging you back to their settlement. You had woken up in a makeshift cage, with your weapons gone and zipties bounding your hands and feet together, as David watched you from afar, speaking to you in a tone that drastically contrasted the words he spoke. You fought through the grogginess, your mind was only set on one thing: Finding Ellie and Joel, alive. Discreetly, you had broken out of the restrictions and kicked out the gate, grabbing the broken chain and slinging it at him as you escaped.

You hid in abandoned storefronts and evaded your enemies, silently taking down the ones that drew too close with makeshift weapons and leaving a trail of bodies in your wake. The harsh snowfall made it all the more challenging, obscuring your vision and forcing you to rely on your sense of sound. When you went to strike at another body, you were caught off-guard as strong hands seized your wrists and pinned you against the wall. At the realization that it was Joel pressed against you, tears brimmed in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, thanking whatever higher power there was for bringing him back to you.

Together, you had found Ellie in a burning restaurant, rushing in to see her hacking away at David. Joel ripped her away from him, her cries and pleads tearing you apart. You fell to your knees as she wept out, taking her into your arms as Joel held the both of you, smoothing her hair and whispering soothing reassurances. It was in that moment that you realized that you and Joel had become more than just a guardian for this young girl. There was an understanding that you both would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

A feeling of disappointment had set in when Ellie declined Joel's offer to go back to Jackson after arriving in Salt Lake City. After what she had gone through, you saw that she felt an obligation to finish what brought you all together in the first place. While navigating through flooded streets, you were faced with rescuing and resuscitating both Joel and Ellie as they became trapped underwater and falling unconscious, the moments blurring together all too fast before you'd been knocked out by two Fireflies from behind.

You had woken up to Joel in a hospital bed next to you, along with Marlene. The Fireflies had set up base at the St. Mary's Hospital, not too far from where you were clocked. Through Marlene you learned that Ellie had been okay, but was immediately taken in for surgery. When you had asked how the procedure would play out, Marlene hesitantly explained that Ellie's brain was at the center of it all, and you had put the pieces together that it all pointed towards death. Both you and Joel grew angry and had protested that another way had to be possible, but of course, Marlene disregarded and ordered for your leave.

What followed in that hospital became yet another turning point in your relationship, not only with Joel, but Ellie too. You were both aware that once you killed the first person in your way, that there was no going back.

And nothing made more sense.

Not a living soul made it out of that hospital except for you, Joel, and Ellie. The chance couldn't be taken that you'd be tracked or followed. So, you returned to Jackson in one piece, and held a secret that only strengthened your bond to each other.

You had moved into the last house on Rancher Street, a decent sized home with a separate garage and fenced in yard. Joel took up the bigger bedroom upon your insistence, and the garage converted to a space designed just for Ellie. You found work in patrol, with Joel and Tommy, and administration by Maria’s side.

It undoubtedly marked a new chapter; no more traveling, no more searching, no more sleeping with one eye open. You had food, clothes, and a roof over your head, in a thriving community, moreover.

Everything had fallen into place, just like it was supposed to.

And you, Joel, and Ellie were finally safe.

Right?

if you read this far, thank you from the bottom of my heart! i hope you'll continue to stick around for their story. feedback is appreciated <3 y'all have a lovely day!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #annasmasterlist #annawrites

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