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middleearthpixie · 2 years ago

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Hit & Run

Armitage Summer Splash #24 - Thanks as always to @lathalea & @fizzyxcustard for this!

Trope: Accident

Quote: “I need to see you.”

RA Character: John Proctor (Modern AU)

Relationship: John Proctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Car accident

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,277

***

You didn't really know what happened. One minute, you were at the intersection of Main and Percival Streets, on your way to open the shop and the next? You heard the crunch of smashing fiberglass and shattered glass, saw the inside of an ambulance, and that was all you could remember.

Now, you were in the hospital and at first, everything hurt. But now? Now you floated on a soft cloud in a gentle haze of whatever painkillers they’d given you. Pins had been put into your ankle and something had been mentioned about physical therapy once you had time to heal, but you really only recalled bits and pieces of it.

“Sweetheart?”

You struggled to open your eyes. An uphill battle at best because you were just so very tired. It took several attempts before you won and you offered up what was probably the sleepiest of smiles as your eyes finally focused on John’s face, above you. His dark hair was windblown, his blue eyes filled with concern while his hand moved gently over your hair, his thumb brushing your forehead.

“What happened?” His deep voice was soft, almost a whisper to match the gentle strokes against your forehead.

You slowly shook your head, letting your eyes close since the fluorescent hospital lights hurt them. “I—I’m not sure. I was on my way to the shop. And someone came out of nowhere and hit me…They must’ve… must’ve run the light because I know my side was green.”

His thumb went still. “Did you see who?”

You licked your lips. Despite the IV giving you fluids, your lips felt dry. “It happened so fast. I never saw who… but it was a black… a black SUV.”

“It’ll be on the police report.” Warm lips brushed your forehead. “I spoke to the doctor. She said you’re going to be fine in time, but I think you’re going to have to let Kerry run things while you recuperate.”

You managed another smile. “I think she will do just fine. She did when we were in Hawaii.” You forced your eyes open again. “I’m supposed to pick up Ben and Sam and—”

“I already talked to Eli,” he assured you, his thumb moving lightly along your forehead again. “He’ll pick his brothers up and then head into work. His boss understood when Eli told him you’d been in an accident.”

“Oh, thank God…” The boys were from John’s first marriage, and they lived with you. It had been rocky at first, but as your relationship with John grew more and more serious, they eventually warmed up to you. Even John’s ex-wife, Elizabeth was no longer as icy as she’d been in the earlier stages of your relationship. You would never be friends, but you’d developed a cordial enough relationship that if you’d called her and asked her to grab the two younger boys from middle school, she’ d have done so and not held it over your head.

“You just need to rest,” he told her, rising from his chair. He bent over and his lips were soft as they moved gently against yours. Then he pulled away, and murmured, “I’ll be back in a bit. I want to make sure the boys get home okay and they’ll probably want to come up and see you.”

“When can I come home?”

“Dr. Ehrings wants you to stay at least tonight, but she seemed pretty sure you could come home tomorrow.”

You nodded, even though the last thing you wanted was to stay in the hospital overnight. You hated hospitals. They were too quiet, too creepy at night, and they had that hospital smell that no one liked. Still, you were in no shape to argue, even if you wanted to. “Okay.”

“Get some rest, honey,” he murmured, his beard scraping against your chin as he kissed you once more. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You better be.”

He winked, then straightened up and with a soft sigh, you closed your eyes, asleep before he left the room.

In the hallway, John’s tranquil smile melted away. His hand clenched into a fist that he shoved into his trouser pocket. His heart had stopped two hours earlier when Anna poked her head into his office to tell him you’d been in an accident. He couldn’t get to his car fast enough and as he drove toward Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital, he got on the phone with a friend of his who was with the local police force. You were broadsided by woman driving a black Range Rover.

He’d paced the small surgical waiting room, waiting for news on you. All he knew was you had numerous cuts and bruises and you’d broken your ankle. None of your injuries were life-threatening, thanks to your car’s side curtain air bags and crumple zones. You were actually incredibly lucky, all things considered. Still, he was on the verge of madness when Dr. Ehrings finally came out to tell him you were out of surgery and would be moved to your room after you spent some time in recovery.

Now, his hands almost shook with rage as he strode down the sterile corridor toward the elevator. He waited until he was outside, in the warm air of a late spring afternoon. The cherry blossoms had bloomed, as had the dogwoods and the lilacs planted along the Emergency Room’s outside perimeter were just budding to life.

He dug out his phone and dialed, lifting it to his ear when a woman said, “I thought I’d be hearing from you. I need to see you, John. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Are you kidding me?” he growled, “I know exactly what you did and don’t you even think to give me some bullshit story. I know it was you. Black Range Rover. Did you think no one would figure it out? Do you think we’re all stupid?”

Abigail laughed. At one time, that sound would have tingled along his spine, but now? It made him see red. “You know what was me? Are you feeling all right John? You sound… upset…”

“Upset? Yeah, probably because I am. This was the last straw,” he told her shortly, striding toward the parking deck. His BMW was on the second level, but if he stepped into the shadows, he’d lose the signal. “You’ve gone too far, now, and I’m not playing this game with you. Leave us alone. Do you get that? I don’t want you.”

“Why do I think you don’t mean that, John?” Her voice held that coquettish coy note that he’d grown to hate. “How many times did you tell me to leave you alone before Beth caught us? And each time, you came crawling back to me, didn’t you? Each and every single time.”

“Not this time.” He switched the phone to his other ear.

“Oh, really? Does your girlfriend know—”

“Wife,” he broke in, unable to keep the tone of triumph from his voice at her stunned silence. “Yeah, you didn’t know that, did you?”

“Wait… your—your wife?”

“My wife. We were married last month, Abigail. And if you come near her again, I promise you, I will kill you. Is that clear?”

“Are you threatening me?”

“You’re quick. I’m warning you. Leave. Me. Alone.” He hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, ignoring it as it rang immediately. He ignored it the entire way back to his car and as he pulled out of the parking deck and steered back toward his office, he knew exactly what he had to do next.

***

Like it? Love it? If so, please love it, leave a comment, reblog it, or do all three! 💜💜💜

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78

#armitage summer splash #Richard Armitage #John Proctor #The Crucible #John Proctor x Reader #John Proctor x OC #John Proctor x You #John Proctor Modern AU

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fizzyxcustard · 5 years ago

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Moodboard Masterlist

Raymond de Merville (Pilgrimage)

Modern!Raymond de Merville

John Proctor (The Crucible)

Courting Thorin

Dr Scott White (Sleepwalker)

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loverichardarmitage · 5 years ago

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Shall I start posting my Richard Armitage based stories from my Wattpad on here?🤔😊

#richard armitage #fanfiction #love #lucas north #thorin oakenshield #daniel miller #guy of gisborne #john porter #john proctor #thorin x reader #richard x reader #oc #imagines

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greenishghostey · 2 years ago

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Dungeon Master meet Prop Master | part 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Drama Club!reader

Summary: The blossoming relationship between you and Eddie was still new but you were both already in too deep. Turns out that your friends love a little romance gossip too.

Warnings: I've decided that this series will be 18+ eventually, so please DO NOT engage or interact if you are underage. More fluff, friendship banter, swearing, a very vague understanding of the US education system.

Word Count: 5,236

Authors Note: So this chapter is a bit more dialogue-heavy and goes into friend group reactions to Eddie and specs' budding relationship and where it will potentially go. This was going to be the first half of one chapter but I felt it was better as a stand-alone piece.

Part 2 /// Part 4 (Coming Soon)

Friday at school was surprisingly busy, with most of your classes hitting the first assignment stage. You loved a long-winded, formulaic piece of homework as much as the next person, but your mind had been busy. Eddie kept your mind so fucking busy. Even your favourite classes were a little bit tuned out by the sound of a boyish snort, metal rings tapping a steering wheel and “specs”. You were in a near-constant state of fluster, removing your glasses to rub your eyes or pinch the bridge of your nose. Your mom had asked if you were sick while eating breakfast. She asked if it was a boy. God, she made it sound so juvenile. You were legally an adult. However, she was right on the money - not like you were going to tell her that.

You had a giggly, schoolgirl crush on a boy who was nice to you.

But “nice to you” wasn’t doing him enough justice. He was exceptional to you. The closest thing to Eddie’s comfortable presence you could think of was Penny - the person who had been your rock since elementary school. Eddie Munson had achieved that astronomical status within, what, like, 4 hours?

Fuck, if he actually did have a weird cult thingy going, you might just have to look into joining. Maybe he gave out welcome packages along with the Hellfire shirts. An introductory pamphlet and a complimentary goat skull or something. You could bring snacks to the ritual sacrifices.

You had a study period before lunch and took the opportunity to be a hermit in the library, trying to power through as much homework as you could in an hour and ten minutes.

English gave you an essay on The Crucible, which was convenient since you were already knee-deep in annotating the play for prop and set ideas. Colonial melancholy mixed with fire and brimstone was your current plan. Now you just had to add in a few notes about John Proctor’s inner demons and how Arthur Miller was, unfortunately, a “national treasure”. The usual English class spiel that Miss Samson would slap a lovely A or B on. If you found yourself feeling adventurous, you could even pepper in some gender commentary discussion points.

Woodshop was the only assignment you couldn’t make some progress on from your little library alcove, which was a shame because you were strangely excited about it. The project was simple enough for early in the year, making a small storage box with divided sections inside and a hinged lid. But you had a potential plan for your box if everything went well.

Eddie had a zip-lock bag to keep spare game dice in. He had shown you the polyhedral cluster fuck of colours while you helped with Hellfire redecorating. It was cute that Eddie had collected so many spare sets just in case someone forgot to bring theirs on a Friday. He explained that he tried to get a wide enough range of designs so that they would work for every class and race - whatever that meant. Such an extensive collection deserved a proper form of storage and display, so you planned to give Eddie, and his club, another donation in the form of a dice box. Originally, you were going to give the box to your mom to keep her funkiest, fanciest jewellery, but your dad beat you to the punch on her birthday.

Mr Kennedy, your shop teacher, might even let you carve a pattern on the lid too - flames or a skull, something befitting the Hellfire vibe. Mr Ken always liked you because you were interested in his subject rather than seeing it as an easy grade for senior year credits.

Giving Eddie a gift, regardless of how practical it would be, was maybe a little much. He had already lightly teased you for “donating” aged paper to Hellfire so they could have more immersive maps and in-game documents. But that was friendly and with good intentions - he did really want that brown paper. If he seemed apprehensive, you could easily pass the dice box off as a peace offering from the drama club. From one group of oddballs to another.

You polished off the introductory paragraph of an essay on the Reconstruction Era. The name Ulysses had stopped looking like a real word after reading it so many times in your History textbook. The bell rang, and you heard shoes squeaking and doors slamming outside the library's silence. You and Penny always met at your locker before heading to the cafeteria, so you made your way through the halls, weaving between hoards of backpacks, denim and school spirit.

In your opinion, the lockers in Hawkins High were pretty shitty real estate. Too narrow, stupid stiff locks, and they always smelled weird. It was unlikely that they were cleaned out properly when the owners graduated. Some crumbs and a sticky stain had welcomed you in freshman year. You were playing Tetris with your textbooks when you heard your name being yelled down the emptying hallway, followed by an icy bellow of, “We need to talk, young lady!” Penny was always really good at projecting to the back of the room. It was one of the main reasons Miss Butler loved her so much. A ginger, permed head came bounding over to you at a rate of knots, skidding to an abrupt stop in her grass-stained tennis shoes.

“I didn’t do anything. You can prove nothing - Shit, are you okay?” You sniggered, watching Penny pant and lean against your open locker door. She must have bolted to you from across campus; her bangs were sticking to her pale powdered forehead.

“Quit laughing,” she was clutching her side like she was in agony, “I ran from the fucking track field to get here as soon as possible. We need to talk. Now.” Penny straightened up, crossed her arms and fixed you with a stern look. This particular look was reserved for when you forgot to fill her in on gossip or when you stole chips from her during lunch. You hoped she had some of those little pretzel chip pieces in her bag.

“Since when did you know where the track field is?” You joked with a similarly pinched look on your face. It was a mystery as to why she seemed so miffed at you. Ben hadn’t struck out with the costume designer, Lily, again. No one in shop class had narrowly missed losing a finger. The Hawkins gossip pool was rather dry. What a shame.

Penny flapped her hands in your face, “Shush!” She snipped. It was like you’d told her she wouldn’t ever get that Oscar she always dreamed of. Like you had pissed in her cornflakes that very morning. “Munson does business out past the track field.”

Ah. Crap. You should have called her last night after dinner and told her about that. About Eddie and you. Whatever you and Eddie were. Friends? Acquaintances?

You felt your eyes widen, “Oh, forgot you were doing that today. How’d it go?” You asked innocently. As much as you wanted to play dumb, you couldn’t make it convincing. The warmth painted across your face, and your sudden interest in your locker shelf was a dead giveaway.

“Well, a freaky little birdie asked me if I was “the friend of specs” and called me ‘Pennies’ the entire deal.” The nickname was sort of sweet. It was better than if Eddie had called her Penelope like her parents did. She would have slapped him with the weed baggie if he’d done that.

“To be fair, a lot of people you know have glasses. Plus, he’s in our grade, even if he’s been around a while. Isn’t he in Home Ec with you?” You knew he was in that class with Penny. She talked about how out of place he looked in an apron with his hair tied back and without his heavy silver rings. Apparently, he was pretty good at cooking and could fix a jammed sewing machine in under a minute. She’d called him a “domestic demon”, in a nice way, of course. Honestly, you had started to wish you had given in to Penny trying to bribe you to take Home Ec with her. A fucking apron.

“Yeah, and he’s Mrs Collins’ favourite. Now, stop interrupting me. How much do you think he charged me?” Penny pressed. The situation was beginning to feel like a bad cop style interrogation very quickly. You could sense where Penny was going - to be honest, you could read her like a children’s book.

“You said it was gonna be like 30 bucks, right? Seems reasonable for illegal stuff.” For the ‘weed parties’, $30 was possibly even a bit too generous. Eddie could use a better business plan.

“Yep, that’s what Connor told me. But that’s not what happened.”

Connor! That was his name. You had been so sure it was Keith for some reason. He looked like a Keith with his product-saturated hair and gym shorts that were too tight to be comfortable. It wasn’t even like he had anything to show off in the shorts. Now, Eddie, you could tell there was something stunning in his dark jeans. If only you’d had gym with him.

“Where are you going with this exactly, Pen? I’m hungry. All the good juice boxes are gonna be gone by now. You’ve stuck me with crappy orange.” You whined. The orange juice they had in the cafeteria was rancid. It was sickly sweet to the point of tasting like children’s medicine. Apple juice was the superior choice, but everyone in the school agreed on that too.

“He charged me 15 bucks! He smiled and was like, “ah, friend of a friend discount, don’t worry about it”.” Penny said in a mimicking voice, her eyebrows were almost in her hairline, and she was a few seconds away from shaking you down for information.

“Oh.”

Fuck. Well, now you would have to spill the beans about your wonderful little evening in the drama room. Part of you was itching to talk about it, and you knew that Penny wouldn’t be too judgemental of Eddie. However, you also wanted to keep it to yourself for a little longer. Hold the warmth of your meeting close to your chest and only have Eddie to share it with.

“Yeah. Oh. Firstly, when did you become chummy with Munson? Secondly, what did you do to get a 50% discount!?”

“You wanna go scream it on the roof? Shut up. He came by the drama room yesterday, and we hit it off, I guess? He’s really sweet and gave me a ride home since it was dark out.” You said, leaning in close and tempted to slap a hand over Penny’s mouth because she was going to start shrieking eventually with this level of gossip.

“…Do we need to clean the room?” Penny grimaced, pulling away from you.

“Ugh! Jesus, Pen!” You swatted at her with your backpack. As if you would soil your beloved drama room. Eddie would have to, at least, take you on a date before you entertained that idea. Like a pay for your dinner and brush hair behind your ear before kissing you sort of date. The fact that that scenario had started to morph into a fantasy was mildly concerning, but it maintained a solid PG-13 rating.

“What? Excuse me for making assumptions based on fifty fucking percent!” Penny exclaimed. Thankfully the hallway was empty, but her voice still echoed off the rows of lockers.

“We hung out, and that’s all. I swear on your hair.” You huffed. By swearing on Penny’s crazy, fiery mane of hair, she would know you were telling her the truth. You just really loved the hair. “What did you think I’d done anyway?”

“I dunno. Some girls say the other drug dealers around Hawkins asked them to flash their tits for a discount. Thought you might be going through a rebellious phase?” Penny wiggled her eyebrows. God, she really was gunning for you to let loose one day. “He is cute in, like, a funky way. His eyes are the size of my mom’s fancy dinner plates, though; it’s weird.”

You rolled your eyes at her, continuing to sort your locker, “Eddie’s not that kind of guy,” You stated firmly, “besides, you’d get too jealous if someone else got that much of my attention.” Easing the slight tension of the conversation with a little friendly jab. The “cute” comment wasn’t even going to be discussed or acknowledged. Penny huffed and slammed your locker closed once you gathered your lunch.

The two of you continued the Eddie conversation. Penny needed to know every syllable that you and Eddie had said to each other. She needed to be able to visualise the interior of his van. Any speck of information was not a request but a necessity. As you had hoped, she wasn’t being judgemental in her pestering. Just being a concerned best friend. You had never expressed any real interest in a guy to her in the years you had been best friends - well, any guy that you knew in real life anyway. Robert Downey Jr in ‘Tuff Turf’ awakened something in you when you saw it during winter break. The movie wasn’t all that great, but you had learned that big brown eyes and endearing charm were “your thing”. An educational experience, if nothing else.

The “Eddie territory”, as Penny dubbed it, was new for everyone involved. No threats had been detected so far, but as you stressed to your friend, it had less than 24 hours. The one piece of information that you withheld was the promise of future Thursdays in the drama room. You were the unofficial Hellfire interior decorator now.

The cafeteria was as you had expected, buzzing with life and smelled like really sad mac and cheese. Your eyes glanced towards the lunch counter and took note of the lack of juice. God damn it. You linked arms with Penny and started navigating your way towards the usual table - a mix of drama club juniors and seniors, their plus ones, and a few other “artsy fartsy” types who needed people to sit with.

You slid into your usual seat quickly and swung Penny into hers with just a little more force than was necessary. That was for the implied flashing comment earlier. Subtle and immediate karma was a beautiful thing in your friendship. You dug into your sandwich, the chatter of the table fading to background noise in your mind.

Your head was still unbelievably busy. Not even a turkey sandwich and tomato soup could put you fully back to normal. Penny nudged you with her elbow and pushed a zip-lock bag of pretzel pieces towards you. Like a little peace offering for her dramatics. But then she had to ruin it, “You only get five; I will count. My mom and sister eat them, too, so I can’t bring as many. Meaning you are on rations.” You were in the midst of your first real battle with emotions and hormones, and she was getting stingy with the goods.

“Can I get the extra salty ones you don’t like?” You asked, blinking at her with your best puppy dog eyes. They were shit, but at least it guaranteed she would give in quickly just to make you stop. “Pleeeease, Penelope. Sweetest Penny-lope.”

Penny shuddered at the use of her full name and the silly nickname you used when you wanted something. It was like she was born as an 80-year-old woman and her parents just went with it. At least “Penny” was a cute nickname, very her. She turned her nose up at you and sighed, “Ugh! Fine, but if you take the kinda burnt ones, you’re not getting that Siouxie cassette back.”

“Well then, you can kiss that Bon Jovi t-shirt you left in my room goodbye,” You threatened. Your fingers wiggled into the zip-lock bag to gather your pretzel rations as you and Penny dissolved into giggles and snorts.

Lunch continued much the same after that. You and Penny tended to stay joined at the hip at the lunch table since drama kids were just strange. But it had always been like that. It was you and your beloved Penelope against the world. On the road to Broadway, or at least off-broadway, if you were being realistic. Lily, the club costume guru with the most impressive black springy coils you had ever seen, kept glancing over your shoulder, eventually meeting your gaze.

You raised your eyebrows in question, mouth full of salty snacks, “Mmmm?”

“Eddie Munson is, like, trying to stare through the back of your head,” Lily whispered, her blouse almost dipping into the cup of your thermos.

You didn’t dare turn around. Not because you were embarrassed about people knowing the two of you were kind of friends, but because you would melt into the gross tiled floor if he waved. If the corner of his mouth so much as twitched into a smile, you’d flatline for a few seconds. Due to Lily’s observation, your heart picked up until it pulsed heat through your veins. God, this was the fucking pits.

Lily leaned in a little closer, her voice just above a whisper again, “Is he bothering you? Need me to go say something?” Lily Warren was quite possibly the sweetest girl in your entire grade. But, this was the one time you wouldn’t need her help when it was offered. Part of you wanted to go chat with Eddie, maybe make yourself known to his friends, like he was with yours. Minus the drug dealing, obviously. The distinct bark of his voice rang through the cafeteria, and several people at your table either grimaced, rolled their eyes or scowled in his general direction. It broke your heart to have the evidence that Eddie was like sunshine personified while most people around you loathed his existence. “If he messed with you, I swear to god.”

“No messing, I promise, but thanks, Lils. He came by the drama room yesterday for club stuff. Probably just let his eyes wander and remembered he knew me.” Your reply wasn’t entirely untrue. You didn’t think he had been staring a hole into the back of your skull like Lily had said; his gaze just tended to appear that way. “It’s just Eddie being Eddie.” You hummed, suppressing a smile. However, your heartfelt introspection was short-lived as Penny snorted into her can of Tab.

“Eddie?” Jeff asked, nudging his friend in the rib, trying to pull his attention away from the other side of the cafeteria, “You good, man?”

“Fabulous,” Eddie mumbled.

Eddie was off in a world of his own. He did that sometimes. It was similar to a robot powering down - his eyes glazed over, he sat straight as a rod and barely moved an inch. But this time, it was different; Eddie was deep in thought, putting all of his attention into a specific spot a few feet away from his seat. The drama club table. Jeff and Eddie had walked to the cafeteria together and were, surprisingly, the first at the table. The freshmen, Dustin and Mike, were probably still trying to get their bearings about the school or were still in that kiss-ass phase with teachers.

Jeff moved in his chair, positioning himself to try and catch a glimpse at what Eddie was honing in on. If it was a person, they could probably feel his stare like a ghost hanging on them. “Whatcha looking at the drama girls for?” There was a smugness in Jeff’s voice - Eddie didn’t appreciate the attitude, even if he was bringing it on himself.

“Glasses girl has a cool sweater. Orange and black are complimentary colours, ya know,” what a bullshit answer. He was losing his edge, and it was all your fault. You had him making up colour theory facts. Black and orange only worked together when it was Halloween - and on you, but that was beside the point.

Before Jeff could start an entire interrogation, the rest of the Hellfire club members arrived. Gareth and Simon were in the middle of a discussion about which spells Simon’s Cleric, Rothgär would learn once he levelled up - the favourite option so far was Holy Aura, so he could blind enemies with Godly light. Dustin and Mike were trailing behind the older boys, having two conversations at once. One was about the upcoming campaign that evening, and the other was about how much of bitch their chemistry teacher was - Ms Wheaton was quite the battleaxe, Eddie could remember all too well. He and Loise went way back.

Gareth was the first to notice the uncharacteristic silence from the head of the table. No all-mighty knowledge coming to weigh in on the spell discussion, no greeting, absolutely nothing. Just Eddie looking almost a touch flustered and focusing so hard on his lunch that he was going to burst a blood vessel in his eye. Soon, each of the Hellfire boys noticed Eddie being… not Eddie, expressions morphing into concern and curiosity.

“You guys want a picture or something? An autograph, maybe?” Eddie snapped, taking an aggressive bite of his slightly bruised apple, his face twisting at the sour taste - Granny Smiths, man, he needed to start buying the other green ones.

“Dude, are you sick?” Gareth asked, “You’re being quiet, and it’s fucking weird.”

“Yeah, usually we can’t get a word in when we sit down,” Dustin pointed out, “you were kinda weird this morning, too, when you picked me up.”

Eddie had been super weird that morning. In a good way. In a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time. His mind was still going a mile a minute because of that clumsy little wave you’d given him. Eddie was a fan of dramatics; anyone within a twenty-mile radius of the guy could see that, plain and simple. But, he never thought he would be in a position where he almost swooned, like some damsel NPC in his campaigns. You being friendly and talking to him like he was a person was pretty damn good, then you had to go and call him a “sweetheart”. His hands hadn’t been that clammy since the middle school talent show before he and the guys went out on stage.

“You been looking at funky sweater gal all day, huh?” Jeff loved every second of that lunch period.

“You’re on thin ice, Fulton,” Eddie mumbled, shooting a glare at his friend, who was still basking in his smug glory. That was when the absolute avalanche of questions started.

“Shit, why didn’t you say, dude! Who is she? She hot?” Gareth immediately honed in on the mention of a girl. A potentially hot girl. Christ, he needed to get laid or just go on a date - something would be better than nothing. A handhold would probably do him a world of good.

“Since when were you actually into girls around here?” That prodding comment came from Dustin. He was craning his neck in all directions, trying to scope out the women in the room. Like he knew Eddie’s type. Eddie didn’t have a type. “Nice to him” was all the type he needed. “Is there some goth or metal girl that’s new or something?” Dustin whispered to Mike, who shrugged his lanky shoulders. Eddie had slid down in his chair; teenagers were hard work. No wonder parents complained about them all the time.

Simon, the stand-up guy that he was, had decided to busy himself with eating and reading through his campaign notes, sniggering to himself when he re-read a good joke he had made last week - “every warlock requires his war key”.

“Si?” Eddie poked at Simon’s book, “you get first rolls tonight. Your initiative is 20 from now until 10:30.” He and Simon shared a knowing smile and nodded. Always good to conduct business with him.

“BULLSHIT!” Mike yelled. He tried to speak with a low bite to his voice, resulting in a wavering crack. Eddie used to do the same thing, thinking it made him cool, so he couldn’t judge the kid too harshly.

“How is that fair?!” Gareth whined, eyebrows furrowing harshly. He was still trying to scope out the object of Eddie’s interest, though. That information was a teeny tiny bit more critical than Eddie’s piece of shit, made-up rules.

“Cause I said so and because he isn’t about to go and bug every chick in here to see if I’ve breathed near her!” Eddie barked.

He could sort of understand Gareth foaming at the mouth. Massive virgin that he was. Jeff just lived for gossip, which explained his enjoyment of the situation. But Dustin and Mike said they had girlfriends - they had no excuses. Were they both raised in a fucking barn? “Besides, there’s no fucking point in keeping it to myself now anyway.”

Eddie was embarrassed. Eddie never got embarrassed. Especially not in front of his brethren and the underlings. It was just like in his van again, when you were being all cute and cool without even trying.

“Knew I could wear you down. So, what’s her name? Where’d you meeeeet?” Jeff sang, resting his chin on his palms. If he started batting his long eyelashes at Eddie, he was getting kicked off his chair.

With your identity about to be revealed, each of the boys turned to face Eddie, eyes wide with curiosity. Their depressing cafeteria macaroni cheese was going to get so soggy.

“In the orange polka dot sweater. Big glasses. She’s the prop girl for the drama club. I went to do Hellfire set up yesterday, and she was still doing drama-y stuff,” Eddie explained, gathering his friends closer so he didn’t announce anything to others in earshot. “To make a long dick short-”

“Dude, ew.” Jeff cringed.

“To make a long dick short! We hit it off. Like really well. She made that sick prop sword I use as The Sun Strike-“

“Made it?!” Dustin, Mike and Simon gasped. The three of them were the characters putting in the most work to find the sword. Simon’s character was a cleric for the Sun goddess who blessed it, so everything worked out very nicely.

“Quit interrupting! But yeah, that’s what I said too. She handmade all of the weapon props in that one big box. How fucking cool is that?”

“Is she cool with us using it?” Gareth muttered, a grimace worming its way onto his face. “I asked Janie in my math class for a pen, and she looked like she wanted to slap me.”

“Nah, specs is cool. Actually, she was super psyched that we named it and made it into the legendary slayer of midnight.” Eddie’s Dungeon Master voice began to creep up his vocal cords, “The bearer of brilliant fire. The almighty-“

There was a giggle. A little shit type of giggle. “So she’s got a nickname already?” Dustin sniggered, cutting Eddie’s dramatics short. He was having the time of his life seeing Eddie practically swooning over you.

“Wears glasses, aka specs. Therefore, she’s “specs”. What’s the issue?”

“Nothing, nothing. Forget I said anything,” Dustin mumbled, a goofy little grin plastered across his face as he dug into his lunch. Eddie was used to all eyes being on him at the table - he thrived on the admiration and comradery that came from Hellfire. However, he was not a fan of the teasing. Sure, he would definitely be joining in if it were Jeff, who was into a girl, but this time it was him, so it made him feel flustered. It was uncomfortable being the centre of attention for a fluffy, fuzzy reason.

“Found her!” Mike whisper-yelled, shaking Gareth’s arm so he could laser focus in on you and your dotty sweater. The boys also noticed Penny, who was leaning on your shoulder with a big grin on her face. Gareth could swear he heard angels singing songs about her.

“Damn! She talked to you?” Gareth pressed. He tried to cover up a laugh since he knew Eddie would either kick him under the table or make his character’s life miserable in their session that evening.

“You’re on thin ice too now.” Eddie cursed, crossing his arms, “For your information, I also gave her a ride home. Might want to brush up on your game, Campbell.”

“She willingly got in your shit box!?” Gareth wasn’t trying to push Eddie’s buttons, but it was almost too much fun. “Aw, she must like you.” Eddie was going to strangle the junior. However, he also wished that Gareth was right - sarcasm be damned.

“Probably gave the poor girl a heart attack,” Jeff mumbled to Simon, trying to speak quietly under the cafeteria noise so Eddie wouldn’t blow a gasket.

“Great to finally know what you guys think of me. Really! I’m touched.” Eddie scowled. Only a peppering of malice was in his expression; he knew everyone meant well. Plus, they were right about the van. It was well and truly a shit box. “I bare my soul to you people, and it gets thrown right in my face….” Eddie turned his attention back to his apple, which was now beginning to brown.

Dustin patted Eddie’s shoulder encouragingly. It was a sweet gesture. The teasing chatter had come to an end, but each of the guys still had a small smirk on their faces. It wasn’t every day that they were the ones able to get Eddie all riled up in that playful way that friends do. That brothers in arms do.

“Eddie,” Dustin said with a genuine smile on his face now, “I saw a girl in that exact sweater putting a note in your locker when I went to the bathroom during History.” The sound of a chair strapping and clattering to the floor rang through the cafeteria - some cheerleaders passing by the table almost jumped out of their scrunchies.

Eddie had a general tendency to move rather sporadically and quickly. He bounced around a lot, mostly to burn off excess energy that usually struck him at around eleven every day. That being said, Eddie felt as though he was nearly breaking the sound barrier while running from the cafeteria to his locker after Dustin finished his sentence.

The little scrap of lined paper read, “I hope the set goes down well with your guys today. Let me know everyone’s thoughts on Thursday, please! Meet you at 3:30!” it was signed off with a small doodle of a pair of glasses.

Eddie quickly glanced around him to make sure that the coast was clear. When it was confirmed, he started drumming his hands rapidly on his locker door. Soon, his entire body joined in on the celebration, and he was cheering through clenched teeth. No one needed to see him looking this type of ridiculous - it would ruin his long-established reputation.

“Fuck yes, I’ve still got it!” He grinned, thrusting his fists into the air. Eddie was almost dancing his way up and down the hallway. Power sliding on his knees was actually sounding like a fantastic idea. He’d willingly take the friction burn to his kneecaps because you were meeting him on Thursday at 3:30 sharp.

Tag list: @fan-girl-97 @lunatictardis @eddiesprincess86 @kimmi-kat @strangerthings1983fan @moviefreak1205 @becca-alexa

#my writing #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #fluff #fic #eddie #stranger things fic

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oswinsvaleyard · 4 years ago

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imagine comparing hand sizes with Thorin. I mean just look.

#king thorin #thorin x reader #thorin's company #thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #lotr #lord of the rings #richard armitage #heinz kruger #john proctor #the crucible #lucas north #spooks #daddy thorin #thorin durin

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simplisticwriting · 6 years ago

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nick clark: i’ll be alright

Fandom: Fear The Walking Dead Pairing: Nick Clark x Reader Description: In which you and Nick have been together for four years and at the dam, Nick makes a decision which will haunt you forever. Warnings: longer, MAJOR SPOILERS for 3x16, slight course language Notes: Y/N = Your Name

repost from my old account, requested by @justthoseimagines! I hope you enjoy and as always please feel free to request and/or leave feedback… i really appreciate it!

YOU WALKED ALONGSIDE your boyfriend and his family on the dam’s bridge, followed by the Proctors. There was no point in fighting anymore… It was over. This was the end. In a world overrun by the dead, you were going to be taken down by a bunch of greedy assholes. Proctor John had told you his plan: Strand, Alicia, Nick, yourself and then Madison.

When you all reached the middle of the bridge, Proctor John ordered you all to say your goodbyes. You quickly hugged Alicia and Madison before grabbing onto Nick, holding him as tight as you possibly could. Tears took over your eyes, a few drops slowly running down your cheek. You buried your head in the crook of Nick’s neck, hoping to mask your fear.

“I love you…” You muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, alright? It’s going to be alright.” He responded. “God, I love you so much, Y/N.”

Nick slowly pulled himself away, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb before shooting you a small, fractured smile. He turned around making his way towards Strand in order to say goodbye. Afterwards, Nick walked back over to where you, Madison and Alicia had been dragged by other proctors before turning his gaze back to Strand with a knowing smile.

“There’s an endgame here, Proctor.” Strand spoke. “One in which you did not plan.”

“You really do talk too much.” Proctor John mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Strand kept his eyes clued to the four of you. “Lola and Daniel didn’t have enough guns to defend the dam so they wired it with explosives.”

“Bullshit.” Someone called out.

“C4 to build the dam, C4 to take it down.” Strand let a smirk fly across his face.

You smiled as well, feeling a sense of hope.

Proctor John shook his head. “Take his tongue already, would you?”

As one of the Proctor’s approached Strand, he slowly backed away, throwing his hands up in the air. “No more lies, Proctor.” Strand responded. As he reached into his pockets, he began to speed up, letting out a small grunt.

“What’s happening?” You whispered.

The Proctor smiled. “You got a hole in your pocket?”

Strand began to really panic, stuffing his hands deeper inside his pockets as two Proctors grabbed him. He fought against their grips, but to no avail. Finally, someone cleared their throat.

“Stand…”

You turned your gaze to Nick, your face going pale. There it was.

Nick eyed the detonator, moving it back and forth between his two hands. “It says it’s armed…”

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, your voice shaking.

“Nick, don’t touch that button.” Strand spoke.

Nick looked at the detonator again before flicking a switch. “What, he one that says detonate?”

Proctor John eyed your boyfriend curiously. “What’s your play here, Nick?”

Nick noted the guys pointing their guns towards him. “Tell them to lower their guns.”

Proctor John accepting, urging his men to put their guns down. The men did as they were told, keeping their icy glares pointed at Nick as he crossed the bridge and peered out across the water. He stood there for a moment before walking back over to the other side. You could feel your palms sweating and your chest aching. What the hell is he trying to do?

Nick pointed down past the bridge. “My mom, my sister and my girlfriend are going to take a zodiac across the lake. Strand too.”

“Nick, don’t do this…” Madison begged.

Nick turned to her before looking over at you. He could see the fear- the pain in your eyes. He quickly moved his gaze back to his mother, seeing you like that hurting him too much. “Just go as far up river as you can.”

“We’ll just pursue them-”

“Yeah, well, they’ll have a head start.” Nick cut him off.

“Nick, just come with us!” Alicia demanded.

You shook your head. “This can’t be happening…”

“What?” Alicia asked.

“He can’t do that, nurse.” Proctor John spoke. “The detonator has a range. You go with them, you lose your leverage, right?”

Nick shook his head. “I’m not negotiating John… This is my suicide note.”

“Nick, stop!” You demanded, tears forming in your eyes even more-so than before. “You don’t have to do this, okay? I’ll do it. Just please… You can’t do this. Not after everything. Please.”

Nick sighed, walking over to his mother. “Just go. ‘Cuz, you don’t have a choice, right?” He mocked their conversation earlier that day. “So, just go. Mom, please… go. All of you, just go.”

As you stated at Madison, she stared at her son. You kept waiting for her to do something- to make her move. Instead, she nodded softly, grabbing into Alicia’s arm. As she begun to walk away, you shook your head roughly.

“No!”

Madison turned back to face you. “Y/N, let’s go…”

“No! Are you kidding me right now? No, I’m going.” You screamed, tears now rushing down your cheeks in a way you’d never felt before. “I can’t go.”

Nick slowly approached you, placing his free hand on your cheek. You felt yourself slowly calm at the contact, exhaling a deep breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding. As your eyes met Nicks, you could see his pain, just as heavy as yours.

“Nick, please don’t do this.” You muttered.

“I have to.” He spoke. “I can’t let anything happen to my family, especially not you. Do you know how much I love you?”

You nodded. “I love you too.”

“I need you to say something for me, okay.” He spoke. “I’ll be alright. Say it, please.”

“I-I’ll be alright.” You choked out. “I’ll be alright.”

Nick yanked you in for a hug, kissing you on the forehead. He pulled away, not looking back at you. All he did was walk back over to the edge of the bridge. You could feel your heart continuing to shatter as Madison slowly approached you, placing her hands gently on your shoulders. “Come on.”

You softly nodded, letting her usher you away. Not looking back, you just kept muttering the same words to yourself over and over again.

I’ll be alright.

#nick clark #fear the walking dead #nick clark imagine #nick clark imagines #fear the walking dead imange #fear the walking dead imagines #ftwd #nick clark x reader

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berjhawn · 7 years ago

Text

Death Ever After - Part 8 - If Only

Death Ever After - A Modern Marvel Alternate Universe x Reader - Reader is a Childhood friends with the Barnes Children; Richard, Bucky, and Rebecca. A terrible accident occurs forcing the Reader to move in with her biological father. Years pass and destiny decides to play a joke on the reader. Chaos Ensues.

Warnings: Abusive families; Accidents; Death; blame game; etc

Pairings: Modern Marvel AU X Reader; Slight Richard X Reader; Bucky X Reader

Part 1 - A True Hero

Part 2 - A New Life?

Part 3 - Becoming A Stark

Part 4 - Therapeutic

Part 5 - Hearsay

Part 6 - Shake It Out

Part 7 - Wedding Dress

(A/N) This is a Modern Marvel Alternate Universe. In this universe the Barnes parents, George and Winifred are still alive. I brought in Bucky’s comic canon sister Rebecca but added an older brother named Richard. Howard and Maria Stark are also still alive along with Jarvis. Some Characters may seem OOC at time but this is an alternate reality people, shit happens. I hope you all like it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat in the passenger seat of Steve’s car wringing my hands as we drove up the long driveway of the Barnes family Estate. I could already feel the panic attack settling in as soon as the house came into view. How many years had it been since I was last here? Every little thing I looked at just took me back to that fateful night. My chest starts to heave and I swear I can smell the burning oil. I feel a hand on mine making me jump in shock only to see that Steve had stopped the car and was holding my hand trying to calm me down.

“It’s okay, I’m right here.”

“Steve, I don’t think this was such a good idea after all.”

“Do you want to go home? I can tell them something came up.”

“No,” I reply trying to catch my breath by focusing on his hand. “I made a promise. God why do I have to be the type of person who keeps their word? Why are you even with someone as crazy as I am?”

“Because you are an amazing woman and I am proud to love you.” He replies giving my hand a reassuring squeeze making a smile fill my lips.

“Or you’re just as crazy as I am.”

“That’s probably true too.” He says making me chuckle. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, just don’t let go of my hand.”

“I kind of need it to shift with.” He says motioning to the car and I nod.

“Then don’t complain if I grip your arm too tightly.” I reply and he nods.

“Yes ma’am.” He replies as he pulls his hand from mine. I move my hand to his upper arm and grip tightly as he pulls the car back out onto the driveway. I tried not to hurt him but the fear was making everything unbearable. If I hadn’t promised Becca I would be here I would’ve turned tail and ran away as fast as I possibly could. Reaching up with my free hand I grip tightly to Richard’s key and rub it therapeutically.

I hear the sound of the party become louder as we reach it and I take a deep breath. I release Steve’s arm long enough for him to step out of the car and hand the valet his keys before he rushes over to my side of the car to help me out. Taking his hand, I grip tightly to it and let him lead me from the car to the veranda steps. My mind slips causing me to envision Richard and myself running up these stairs my hand in his. I fight the tears that threaten to fall as I watch them. His smile was so vivid in my mind. I felt that if I reached out I could touch them. Right as I am about to a person walks in front of them making the mirage dissipate.

I quickly clear my throat and grip tightly to Steve’s arm. That’s right. Richard’s gone and I am here with Steve. Taking a deep breath, I collect myself as we walk up the stairs. I am suddenly aware of all the paparazzi snapping pictures of the guests and I grit my teeth. of course, the Barnes would have the paparazzi here. They were never ones for subtlety. Glancing over at Steve I offer him a hopeful smile and he gently grips my hand. “It’s gonna be okay.” He whispers into my ear making my nerves calm down.

The doors open and I look into the foyer to see it full of guests. This wasn’t the first party I had seen here at the Barnes estate. I had practically grown up here in this house. I had never been invited to one of their parties but Richard had always snuck me into his room before he was forced to go to one. I used to watch with Rebecca from the stairs as the people partied and danced the nights away. It was always a beautiful sight.

Parties at Stark manor however, were somewhat normal compared to here. That was most likely due to the fact that I wasn’t good with strangers. Howard and Maria always made sure I was comfortable before they had a party and they never complained about not being able to be as extravagant as they used to have been. Howard actually enjoyed having simple dinner parties, and I could tell Tony didn’t care either way. I hear Rebecca’s voice from a few feet ahead welcoming guests and I follow her voice to see her standing next to her handsome fiancé Doctor John Proctor and her parents.

I feel my body tense as my eyes move over to them. They wouldn’t recognize me, right? And if they did what would happen? Obviously, nothing good. Rebecca’s eyes spot Steve and myself and I force a smile as she practically races over and wraps her arms around me. “I’m so glad you decided to come,” Then she lowered her voice so only Steve and I could here, “Even though I know now much it hurts.”

“Thank you, Becca, for making me come.” I reply making her give me an apologetic smile.

“Thank you, Steve, for bringing her.” Becca says as she hugs her brother’s best friend.

“It’s my pleasure. I couldn’t let her come alone.”

“Oh my,” I hear the familiar voice of Winifred Barnes call out and my body freezes. My eyes shoot to Steve and he instantly gives me a reassuring kiss on the cheek. “How nice of you to join us Miss Stark. I wasn’t aware you were a friend of my daughter’s until I saw the guestlist. Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you for inviting me, you have a beautiful home.” I force out as I act as politely as I could even though my body was shaking with fear.

“Thank you,” Winifred says as she motions for Mr. Barnes to join her. “Darling, this is (Name) Stark, Howard and Maria’s daughter. Miss Stark this is my husband George.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” George replies straightforwardly as he gives me a quick nod.

“It’s nice to make your acquaintance as well Mr. Barnes.” I reply gripping tightly to Steve.

“I’m sorry my dear, but have we met before? Maybe at your father’s company?” He asks his eyes narrowing slightly at me as if he was remembering me.

“That’s a very good possibility. I like to go there to visit my brother Tony.” I lie trying to keep a straight-faced.

“Steve my boy, I didn’t know the two of you were dating. It’s always good to see you.” George says his expression turning to one of loving as he looked at Steve.

“It’s good to be here, and yeah, we’ve tried to keep it quiet for Sarah’s sake.” Steve answers a fatherly air filling his body.

“We don’t want them to say anything bad about either of us or Peggy to her.” I add making him smile softly at me.

“I understand. Sarah doesn’t need to hear anything bad about her parent’s.” George replies and I feel myself kind of shocked at the change in him. Years ago, he wouldn’t have cared what anyone said about anyone. Now, he seemed more conservative and cautious. Was it because of Richard?

“The two of us should be heading inside. We don’t want to keep you from your guests.” Steve says sensing my mood and confusion. I glance at Winifred to see her looking me up and down with a mischievous look on her face. What was she planning?

“Of course, you’re right. I am the bride after all.” Becca replies a bright smile filling her lips before she gives me a tight hug. “Come find me later so we can talk okay?” She adds and I nod.

“Sure, now hurry back to your groom.” I answer making her smile before she rushes over to her fiancé. A sudden thought fills my mind about how happy Richard would have been to see her so in love and my heart clenches. He should be here. As if sensing my thoughts Steve excuses, the both of us and moves me as far away from them as possible. When we are far enough away he gently cups my cheeks as he asks, “Are you okay?”

“No,” I answer truthfully tears threatening my eyes. “He should be here, and because of me he isn’t.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s okay to have feelings like this. I’m sure Richard is here, in his own way.” He gently kisses my forehead making me close my eyes and relish his touch. He was right. I knew he was, but that wasn’t going to stop me from feeling this way. It also didn’t help things that the one person who blamed me the most was somewhere in this house at this party. The thought of seeing him and him knowing who I was terrified the living hell out of me.

“Thank you, Steve,” I say as I hug him tightly.

“No problem,” He replies rubbing my arms reassuringly. Pulling away I look across the room at the stairs and sudden want fills my body. I needed to see Richard’s room. Even if I couldn’t go inside I needed to be near it.

“Steve, can I you do me a favor please?” I ask my eyes moving back to him. He pauses a moment before he nods.

“I’ll keep them busy.” He kisses my forehead before he pulls away and adds, “You do what you need to do. I love you.”

“Thank you so much Steve.” I say before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles into my lips before he pulls away and heads over to where the Barnes family was. I knew he would stall them for as long as I needed. When he reaches them, I grab the skirt of my evening dress and quickly make my way up the stairs before anyone could notice. I stealthily make my way down the familiar hallway like I was being led. I swear I see Richard run past me and I felt myself start to walk faster until I was practically running down the hall after him. He turns into a room and I stop in front of his bedroom door my chest heaving and my legs aching.

I reach up and gently place my fingers on the door. Something homey fills my senses making me let out a shaky laugh as I plant my forehead on the door. I was here. I could feel him here. I slide my hand down the smooth wood to the handle and gripping it tight I go to open it only to realize it was locked. My heart drops. Suddenly it felt like he was right here with me. I close my eyes and I swear I could feel his arms wrap around me and hold me tight. I lean back into his touch a sad smile filing my face. This felt so real; but that was impossible. Richard was gone. His ghost still haunted this house; but he wasn’t here, not really.

“I miss you.” I say the words shaky as they leave my mouth. I feel him kiss the back of my head and I grit my teeth. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. It should have been me. Your sister is getting married, you should be here for her. You should’ve stayed away from me.” I feel him tense against me and am suddenly filled with fear. How could a ghost tense? I quickly pull away from what I thought was a ghost and turn around. “Oh god.”

Will Continue ---

Tags:

@learisa @lxdyred @elaacreditava @dugan365 @marvel-fanfiction @debzybrazy @nathallyal @vibraniumass

#berjhawn #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #tony stark #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #modern marvel au x reader #marvel x reader #marvel #fanfiction

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ridiculousn3sswrites · 8 years ago

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French

*Lafayette x Reader

*Summary: Reader is failing French and the teacher assigns the actual French guy in class to help her.

*Warnings: None I think, maybe a bit of jealous Laf? Does bad French count?

A/N: Jfc I know Spanish not French why did I do this. I used like three different translators to try to get the French right but sorry in advance if it isn’t. Written by Admin R

You had no idea what was going on, it was like the teacher was speaking a foreign language. And, well, she was. You didn’t know how you managed to make it to French III, especially since you passed your previous French classes without doing any work during class. All you knew was that you needed to start paying attention and pass this year and next, just so you could get that stupid bilinguality stamp on your diploma to show off for colleges. It hadn’t even been your idea, your counselor had forced you onto that path, and now you were paying the price for that. “Mademoiselle (l/n), faites attention,” the teacher spoke, snapping you out of your pity party.

“Uh, oui?” you responded, phrasing it as more of a question since you didn’t know what was going on. There were snickers from throughout the room, making your face heat up as you prayed for the ground to just swallow you whole.

“Ne vous inquiétez pas, je vais m'assurer qu'elle accorde de l'attention,” someone spoke from beside you, their French fluent. You snuck a peek from the corner of your eye, spying Lafayette’s bright smile and somehow perfect bun. Of course it was him, he was the only one in the class that spoke perfect French. He’d moved to New York from France and for some reason was taking French III instead of something else. Not that you wanted him in another class, but he definitely could’ve been learning something more useful.

“Merci, Monsieur Lafayette. Mademoiselle (l/n), see me after class,” the teacher said, tapping her fingers lightly on your desk before walking away. You tried not to openly sigh, knowing the conversation would turn back on your grades. You’d spoken with the Mademoiselle before, her suggesting online programs and workbooks to help with your French, but they never actually helped. You looked down at your notebook, seeing more doodles than actual classwork. You knew that you needed to stop it and try to learn, but how could you follow the lesson when you barely understood half of what the teacher was saying?

When the bell rang, you walked up to the teacher’s desk, waiting as she said goodbye to everyone else. What you hadn’t expected was Lafayette coming up beside you, waiting as well. “So, uh, why?” You asked, slightly uncomfortable with his proximity. You mentally facepalmed, just loving your eloquence.

“The Mademoiselle wished to speak with me, too,” Lafayette replied, taking a small step back when he noticed your discomfort.

“Again, any idea why?” You questioned. You knew why you were here, but you had no idea why she needed to speak with her top student. There was no French you could teach someone from France, and it wasn’t uncommon for Lafayette to actually correct her on some things.

“Probably the same reason as you,” Lafayette said with a shrug. You tilted your head in confusion, not entirely sure what he meant by that. Just as you were going to question him further, the teacher walked up. She began speaking in rapid-fire French with Lafayette, leaving you completely lost once again. Lafayette was smiling and nodding in agreement with whatever she was saying, confusing you even further.

“Hey, uh, I might be in this class but I still don't follow when it's that fast,” you spoke up, rubbing the back of your neck as you fidgeted slightly. It made you nervous, especially since you knew they were talking about you.

“Sorry, (y/n), but I’m not exactly sure how I can further help you. Luckily, Lafayette here has offered to help you,” she told you, motioning to the boy. Lafayette smiled softly at you, easing your nerves slightly. “Maybe you’d benefit from having a personal teacher, not just websites.”

“I mean, that’d be great, but don’t you have like other things to be doing, Laf?” You asked, face growing warm. You liked Lafayette, perhaps a bit more than what was considered friendly, but you weren’t sure how you’d deal with him if the two of you were alone. You were at least ninety-percent sure you would spontaneously combust.

“Non, I’m generally free after school and mes amis will not miss me during lunch,” Lafayette replied, smile growing brighter. “So, would you like the help?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Mademoiselle, Lafayette. I need to get to my next class,” you said, nodding at the both of them before hurrying out the door. ‘Eliza is gonna freak when I tell her,�� you thought, thinking of your best friend. Even though she hung out with Lafayette’s group often with her boyfriend, she was still excited to hear any news of your little crush. The minute bell rang, making you curse softly as you hurried to your class, avoiding any proctors.

“So, you’re not late today,” Eliza commented as you sat next to her, slightly out of breath.

“Just barely,” you told her with a roll of her eyes. “Hey, has Laf said anything about what’s going on in French when all of you hang out?”

“No, normally he just tells Alex he should’ve taken the class with him. Why? What’s going on?” Eliza asked, leaning towards you eagerly. Damn, you’d had high hopes that she had some sort of information for you.

“Well, apparently him and the teacher made an agreement for him to tutor me,” you told her. By the way her eyes lit up, you weren’t sure if this was better news for her or you.

“That’s great! You and Frenchie can finally get together after this,” Eliza teased.

“Shut up, I barely even talk to him. What makes you think he’s even into me?” you asked with a roll of your eyes. Despite your sarcasm, you were actually curious. Had he talked about you to his friends? What did he say? Were they bad things? Did he find you annoying?

“I mean, he’s called you cute a few times,” Eliza commented nonchalantly, smiling at your reddening face. “And I wouldn’t put it past him to finally make a move, the guys’ve been hyping him up for it for almost a month now.

“You’re kidding, right? Wait, no, don’t answer that. That’d be messed up if you just played with me like that,” you rambled, mind racing as you processed the information. There was no way Lafayette was into you, it just didn’t make sense. He was always so suave around you, never stuttering or giving any indications that he liked you. You, however, turned into a blushing mess, never able to express what you were thinking without embarrassing yourself in one way or another. It didn’t make sense.

“I cross my heart. Last week John warned Laf that if Laf didn’t ask you out soon, or at least flirt with you, he was going to,” Eliza explained, leaning closer so no one would eavesdrop. “And Laf got all serious, saying that John better not. I could’ve sworn Laf was going to deck him.”

“No,” you gasped in disbelief. “There is no way that happened.”

“Hey, don’t believe me. But if John starts flirting with you, don’t be surprised,” Eliza replied with a knowing smile and a shrug.

“Miss Schuyler, Miss (l/n), something you’d like to share with the class?” the teacher asked, crooking a brow.

“No, Mr. Greene. Promise it won’t happen again,” Eliza replied easily while you turned into a tomato once again. Getting called out twice in the same day seriously wasn’t working for you, especially since you didn’t like the attention.

“I expect it won’t,” Mr. Greene said, giving you both a stern look before turning back to his lecture.

“You’re a bad influence,” you jokingly scolded Eliza.

“As if, I was quiet before I met you,” Eliza laughed softly, rolling her eyes. “Blame the counselors, they’re the ones that put us in the same class.”

“My counselor’s also the reason I even need Lafayette to tutor me,” you added, groaning slightly. “Just saying, I wouldn’t mind a bit of flirting from John if it gets Laf to even notice me. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a bit of a cutie.” Eliza just laughed, earning another pointed look from Mr. Greene. The two of you looked at each other, trying not to laugh even more at that.

A few weeks passed, Lafayette and you meeting up for tutoring every Monday and Wednesday during lunch. You were still struggling, but now you could talk to Lafayette like he was a normal person. “Wait, your real name is Gilbert?” you asked, face scrunching up slightly as you looked over at him.

“You didn’t know that?” Laf asked with a small laugh.

“No, everyone calls you Lafayette so I just kinda assumed!” you argued, smiling slightly. “I mean, with a name like Gilbert, it’s understandable.”

“C'est impoli,” Lafayette replied. “But my name is actually longer, which is why I go by Lafayette.”

“What? Okay, hit me with the entire thing,” you told him, pausing for a second. “That sounded worse than I intended, but what’s your name?”

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette,” he said after a bit of hesitation.

“Marie-Joseph Paul what?” You trailed off, struggling to remember the middle parts.

“Seriously, just call me Lafayette,” he laughed it off. “Hey, would you like to come with us later? We’re getting dinner with the Schuylers, and then I’m not sure what Alexander has planned after that.”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun! I’ll just need to call my parents beforehand, but I’m sure they’ll let me go. They trust Eliza a lot for some reason,” you joked, rolling your eyes slightly. “I wonder why she didn’t mention it to me though.”

“To be fair, Alexander didn’t tell me we were doing anything until this morning,” Lafayette replied, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Now, savez-vous ce que nous sommes censés avoir pour la présentation la semaine prochaine?”

“Uh, oui. We’re ordering in a restaurant and need to correct a mistake that’s been made,” you read from your notes. The dialogues were your least favorite part of class, especially since they happened at least once a month. You were fine with memorization, but the pronunciation got you every time.

“Right, do you want to work on it together or just have me write it all out and then practice it?” Lafayette offered. You wanted to have him just write it, but you knew you needed the practice.

“Let’s just work on it together,” you sighed, already knowing that you’d probably work on your part the day before it was due. “You’ll help me with the pronunciations and stuff, right?”

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” Laf asked with a cocked brow.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you replied. “Now, faisons cela.”

“That’s the spirit,” Lafayette laughed, taking out the assignment and turning to a new page in his notebook.

After lunch, you found yourself unable to focus on anything else other than your plans. Sure, you’d hung out with the Schuylers often, and you’d met the Hamilsquad, as they’d been dubbed, but this was the first time you’d be with them for an extended time period. Once your last two classes finally ended, you were free to freak out in the privacy of your own home. Well, until Eliza showed up at your door with no warning, pulling you to your room to get you ready. “Eliza, why are you freaking out about this more than I am?” You questioned as you watched her tear apart your closet in search of something for you to wear.

“Because this is your first time hanging out with Lafayette outside of French tutoring and you don’t seem to understand how major that is,” Eliza stressed, holding a dress out to you.

“No way, it’s still cold outside,” you said, pushing the dress back towards her. Eliza pouted slightly before going back to your closet, pulling out a (f/c) pullover striped sweater that you thought you had lost.

“This with some jeans and a t-shirt. Bam, instantly better than what you wore to school while still being simple,” Eliza said proudly.

“Rude,” you said, rolling your eyes as you went into the bathroom to change. You tried to ignore Eliza’s smug look when you came out. Sure, she had good taste and seemed to know more than you did about everything, but she could still be a bit much at times.

Alexander had picked up the two of you soon after, driving to a small diner not too far from the school. When you walked in, you saw Angelica, Peggy, and the rest of the guys sitting at a large table near the back of the room. Lafayette perked up when he saw you, waving your small group over to the table. You didn’t see the small look that Eliza and Alexander shared behind you, nor the one that John shared with Hercules. “(y/n)! You made it, mon ami!” Lafayette said, standing up and hugging you as you approached.

“Eliza showed up at my house, so I doubt she would’ve let me skip out anyways,” you laughed. Lafayette pulled out a chair for you, right between him and John.

“(y/n), looking as beautiful as ever,” John said with a cheeky smile, winking.

“Thanks, John. How’ve things been?” you asked, trying to ignore your warming face. You hated that you responded like that with any flirting, even if you didn’t like the guy.

“Good, but better now that you’re here,” John replied smoothly. Peggy made a gagging sound from across the table, making you burst into giggles. John continued throughout dinner, flirting steadily and holding your attention for the most part. Lafayette stole your attention back a few times, but John made sure it never lasted for long.

“Alexander, dire à John d'arrêter tout de suite avant de le frapper,” Lafayette practically growled.

“Je vous ai dit que si vous ne l'entendez pas, je le ferais,” John spoke up, talking across you.

“Pouvez vous les gars se calmer?” Alexander asked, eyeing his two friends warily. You looked across to Hercules, hoping he’d provide some form of clarity.

“Don’t look at me, I’m just as confused as you,” Hercules shrugged. “Don’t you take French?”

“Yeah, but I’m not passing,” you told him.

“Ensuite effectuer votre déménagement! Ce n'est pas ma faute vous n'avez pas encore dit!” John stressed to Laf.

“He’s not wrong,” Alexander backed him up. Lafayette just shook his head, huffing slightly.

“Je ne vais pas prendre le risque,” Lafayette told them, turning back to talk to Peggy instead. You and Hercules looked to John, hoping that he’d explain what just happened. Instead, he said nothing and smiled, going back to his flirtations. This continued for maybe ten more minutes before Lafayette hit his palms on the table, standing up and leaving. Everyone looked at each other, stunned into silence before Angelica finally spoke up.

“Someone should go check on him,” she said, looking at everyone.

“I’ll do it,” you told her, standing up. You left the same way as Lafayette, scanning the parking lot before you spotted him sitting on a bench a few feet from the entrance. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Juste parfait,” Lafayette huffed.

“No you’re not, what happened in there with John?” You pushed, sitting beside him, knees almost touching.

“J'aime vraiment vous et John pense qu'il peut juste en piqué et prendre vous. Et il travaillait, il était de vous faire rire et sourire et je veux juste être en mesure de le faire. Vous êtes si beau, et intelligent, et drôle, et parfait, et je ne peux même pas vous dire ceci quand vous serez capable de comprendre,” Lafayette rambled, you only being able to understand bits and pieces.

“Laf, please, in English?” You pleaded, searching his eyes for what you were hoping was there. Lafayette took a breath before starting.

“(Y/n), I like you a lot. And seeing John making you laugh and smile with his flirting, it got to me. I want to be the only one to make you like that, and I didn’t realize how much until tonight. You’re beautiful, and smart, and funny, and just perfect, and I hope I didn’t just ruin everything,” Lafayette said, eyes searching yours for any reaction. You didn’t know how to react. It was everything you hoped for, but you still didn’t know how to process it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Lafayette began rambling.

“Laf,” you cut him off.

“Yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you told him, voice only slightly louder than a whisper. And he did, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you, slowly at first, but becoming more passionate as it went on. You finally broke the kiss when oxygen became a necessity, Lafayette resting his forehead on yours as he looked into your eyes.

“As cute as this is, you guys need to pay your parts of the check,” Alexander said, breaking you and Laf out of your bubble. Lafayette nodded, standing up and offering you his hand. His fingers intertwined with yours as he lead you back to the table with your friends. You noted John’s large smile and knowing look shared with Eliza.

“Finally!” John cheered when you and Lafayette sat back down. “Hey, no hard feelings, right? I just needed to give you a little push in the right direction, you know?”

“Maybe, but I’ll have to think about it,” Lafayette replied. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, adding in a whisper, “Parce que tu es à moi maintenant.”

#lafayette x reader #hamilton imagine #lafayette imagine

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middleearthpixie · 2 years ago

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The Visitor

Ahhh... Armitage Summer Splash #16 - Thanks as always to @lathalea and @fizzyxcustard for providing the prompts!

Trope: Love Triangle

Quote: “As long as you’re here.”

RA Character: John Proctor

Relationship: Modern!John Proctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Scorned woman

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,967

***

His secretary rapped on the door, then opened it to poke her head into his office. “Mr. Proctor? You’ve a visitor.”

He looked up from the file he’d been studying. “A visitor? Who?”

“A Miss Williams.”

His gut kinked, although he tried to keep it from showing on his face as he set down his pen and shook his head. “Tell her I’m in a meeting and am not to be disturbed.”

“Of course.” Anna bobbed her head and drew back, closing the door behind her. As he tried to focus back on his work, his gut bubbled furiously. What did she wanted from him now? She’d already cost him his marriage and nearly cost him his family. So why, nearly a year after he ended their affair, was Abigail back? Her showing up at his office was only the latest in her attempts over the last few weeks to get in touch with him. She’d called and left voicemails on his cell, on his landline, with his secretary. They went ignored. He had no desire to see or speak to her, had moved on and wanted her to do the same.

He finished up the work on his desk and as he emerged from his office and passed by Anna, he said, “If Miss Williams shows up again, she is not to be admitted, understood?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Proctor.” She smiled up at him. “Heading out?”

“I am. I have somewhere to be by eight.”

“A hot date?”

He laughed. “Something like that.”

“Well, have fun and I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

He drew on his coat and picked up his briefcase. “You, too, Anna.”

His steps echoed through the Mueller Building’s high-ceilinged atrium, and he slowed as he caught sight of Abigail waiting in the vestibule between the sets of doors. His gut kinked as he shoved the first door open and said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“What else am I to do, when you won’t return my calls or see me?”

“Take the hint, that’s what. I told you, it’s over.”

“You say that but I don’t think you mean it.” She shot up from the narrow wood bench where she’d been sitting and reached for him. “I just need a minute, John. Just talk to me.”

He ignored her, striding through the second set of doors to step out into a beautiful late November day. Dappled sunlight spilled across the parking lot, and some of the trees still had a few their leaves left, while the others were bare and naked. Leaves that had been brilliant golds and reds and oranges were now dried up and brown, gathering along the edge of the parking lot, where the lawn rose higher than the pavement. With each pass of the wind, they scuttled across the lot, until they hit a car tire or the building itself. In another week or so, the landscapers would be around to sweep them up, but for now, they littered as far as the eye could see.

His BMW 540i sedan was parked in the far corner, and Abigail dogged him the entire way, saying, “Why won’t you just talk to me? What’ve I done that was so wrong?”

“We’ve been through this,” he said, aiming his fob at the car to unlock the door. As he reached it, he stopped and spun about. “I’ve lost enough because of you. Now, you need to leave me alone.”

“Because of me? Correct me if I’m wrong,” her dark eyes flashed with fury as she glared up at him, “but weren’t you the one who was married? I certainly wasn’t in that bed alone, now, was I?”

“Yes, I was married. And no, you were’t alone. But, that was then and this is now, and we are done.”

She grabbed his arm, her fingers clamping about him, digging into him like a falcon’s talons. “But, your divorce is final now, isn’t it? You’re free to be with whoever you want now, right?”

“I am.” He jerked his arm free and tugged open the driver’s side door. “And I’m seeing someone else, Abigail. And I am not letting you ruin this as well.”

“If that isn’t just like a man,” she growled, her eyes going narrow. “You are the one who’s married and yet, it’s my fault you can’t keep your dick in your pants!”

“Leave me alone, Abigail. I mean it.” He threw himself into the driver’s seat, turned over the engine, and without even a look up at her, whipped out of his space and took off toward the lot’s main entrance. He wanted to put as much distance between him and Abigail as possible. If he could find a way to remove her permanently from his life, he would gladly do it.

You knew John was divorced. You’d met his three boys when things between grew serious between the two of you. They were still warming up to you, and you weren’t at all sure how long it should take, since you’d never dated a man who’d had children before. This was all new territory for you. They didn’t outright hate you, so you figured you were off to a good start, if nothing else.

You were supposed to be going away for the weekend with him. His sons were going to their mother’s and he’d suggested a trip to the lake for your first getaway together. You looked forward to it, since you rarely had a day off. Running Brewster’s Place took up so much of your time and you weren’t all that good at delegating responsibilities, but you were trying. After all, you were leaving your baby in your manager’s more than capable hands, and you promised yourself you would not obsess with checking on Kerry every hour or so.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

On Fridays, the coffee house was open until eight, and at ten of, the bell above the door chimed and you looked up to see an unfamiliar woman slip in. She was tall and slim, with dark hair pulled back into a loose bun, with just enough wispy tendrils trailing to give that adorably messy look you could never quite manage to pull off.

She came up to the counter, her dark eyes wide as she said, “Hi, can I get a large coconut coffee, light and sweet?”

“Sure.” You took a large cup from the stack, scooped a tablespoon of sugar into it, filled it a third of the way with half-and-half and then poured the coffee in. You stirred it, clapped a lid on and brought it back. “Three dollars even, please.”

The woman handed her a debit card, which went through with no trouble, and she took her receipt and her coffee to one of the tables over by the fireplace. There were only two or three other people lingering about, and Kerry was busy over in the back restocking the shelf of whole coffee beans you sold.

At eight o’clock, the bell jingled and you smiled as John came through the doorway, handsome as ever in jeans and his Navy pea coat. He needed a haircut, his dark hair swept off to the left from the wind that whipped down along Davenport Street, which was closed to all but foot traffic.

He smiled as you came around the corner. “A sight for sore eyes.”

“Is that so?” You closed the space between the two of you, slipping your arms about his waist and pushed up on your toes to brush his lips with a kiss. His beard came prickly soft against your cheeks, nowhere near as foreign to you now as it had been when you first began dating. Now you were more than used to the scraping and occasional beard burn in odd places.

You broke the kiss. “The boys get off okay?”

“They did. And their mother was happy to have them for the weekend. She’s taking them to their grandparents up in Vermont to get some early season skiing in.”

“Skiing now?”

“Okemo’s season runs from November on.”

Kerry came over then. “Hey, John. You ready for your weekend?”

“I am, indeed. I’m just waiting—” he glanced around and then his voice trailed off as he turned toward the fireplace.

You saw his shoulders stiffen and you looked over at the woman with the light and sweet coconut coffee. “Is something wrong?”

John shook his head slowly. “No. Nothing is wrong at all.”

The dark-haired woman lowered the coffee cup and smiled. “Hi, John.”

“John?” You touched his arm. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” he told you, turning to you as he shook his head, but you didn't miss the darkness that dropped behind his blue eyes. He caught you by the hand. “Let’s just go, okay?”

“John,” Coconut Coffee called over, “I have to talk to you.”

You looked from him to her and back. “Who is that woman?”

“She’s no one—just someone I used to know.”

Your gut twisted. “Someone you used to know.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you on the way to the lake.”

“John,” the woman set her cup down and rose, “I only need a few minutes, and as long as you’re here—”

“I don’t care, Abigail,” he cut her off, shaking his head. “I don’t have a few minutes to spare, so,” he turned back to you, “are you ready?”

Despite the apprehensive flutters in your gut, you nodded and from the corner of your eye, saw Abigail scowl. Where she’d at least pretended to be friendly earlier, now she radiated pure hostility. You didn't need to be told that at one point John had been involved with her, but she wasn’t his ex-wife. You’d seen Beth Proctor several times over the course of your relationship with him and while you weren’t what anyone would call friends, she didn't seem to mind your existence.

Not like Abigail, who glared at you now as if she’d just love to plant you six feet under ground. You’d never seen such hatred in anyone’s eyes as you did in those flat dark eyes that remained trained on you. Your blood actually ran cold at the venom she shot in your direction and without thinking, you linked your fingers with his. He tightened his about yours. “Let’s go, shall we? We’ve a long drive ahead of us.”

“I don’t want to leave Kerry here alone.” You turned to Abigail. “You need to leave now. The shop is closing in two minutes.”

You expected Abigail to argue, but she merely offered up a slight smile and stood, taking her coffee with her as she strode to the door. She pushed it open, but paused, and over her shoulder said, “He’ll come back to me, you know. He always does. It’s just a matter of time before he grows bored with you, just as he did with his wife and any other woman he’s screwed. You’re not special, you know. And I am very patient.”

John’s fingers tightened about yours enough that it actually hurt and when you looked up, it was to see such a look of rage on his face—his jaw clenched, his eyes radiating fury—that for a moment, he was downright frightening.

“Stay away from me,” he told her, shaking his head. “I’m not going to keep saying it. Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t call me. Don’t come to my office. Don’t come back here.”

“You say that now. You’ll change your mind.” Abigail threw the door the rest of the way open and strolled out into the darkness with a low, mournful whistle on her lips and somehow, you knew you hadn’t seen the last of her.

***

Like it? Love it? If so, please love it, leave a comment, reblog it, or do all three! 💜💜💜

#Armitage Summer Splash #Richard Armitage #John Proctor #John Proctor x Reader #John Proctor x OC #John Proctor X You #The Crucible #John Proctor AU

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fizzyxcustard · 5 years ago

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Who/what I write for:

I’m posting prompt lists and taking requests. I’m going to begin/continue writing for:

Richard Armitage (no shipping.)

Richard Armitage characters - Thorin, Raymond de Merville (medieval and modern), Dr Scott White, John Porter, Guy of Gisborne, John Proctor....possibly Francis Dolarhyde coming soon! I will also write all these characters as demons, vampires and werewolves.

The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings (all characters)

Labyrinth (with David Bowie)

Marvel (however, if it’s a character I’m not sure about then I will need to decline but will let you know. But most characters should be okay)

Doctor Who (Doctors 9-12)

The Witcher (Geralt x Reader to start with)

Game of Thrones

Elliot Stabler from Law & Order SVU

I will have a go for other fandoms as well but please message me first just to double check and I’ll see how I feel about it.

My requests are currently open to a few but if I have too many, I will temporarily close them down to get the backlog moved.

PLEASE request via ask and only take ideas from prompt lists.

#writing #lord of the rings #the hobbit #the witcher #marvel #richard armitage #game of thrones #labyrinth #doctor who #elliot stabler #law and order

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middleearthpixie · 2 years ago

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Brewster's Place

Armitage Summer Splash #9 ~ Thanks again to @lathalea and @fizzyxcustard!!

Trope: Coffee Shop

Quote: “You never cared about me. Only yourself.”

RA Character: John Proctor

Relationship: Modern!John x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,678

***

He came in every morning at around the same time, and today was no different. The bell above the door jingled and you looked up to see him maneuver around the tables scattered about Brewster’s Place’s cozy main room. He looked especially handsome today, dressed in black jeans and a navy pea coat, a long black scarf wound about his neck. It had been snowing for the last hour and white flakes clung to his short, dark hair, stood out in his thick, dark beard, and all of them melted out of sight as he crossed the black and white tile floor toward the front counter.

Your heart skipped a beat, just as it always did, when he stepped up and smiled. He had no idea how much you looked forward to his stopping by, even as you returned his smile and said, “Good morning, John. How bad is it out there?”

“Not too bad. At least, not yet,” he replied, running a hand over his cropped hair to brush the remaining snow from it. He was English, his deep voice elegant, and when he smiled, he had the most adorable crinkles at the outer corners of his eyes.

His eyes were blue. A beautiful shade of blue that changed depending on what he wore. Some days they were a very pale, piercing blue. Other days, they hovered between blue and gray. Today, they were the perfect blend of blue and gray.

“What’s not too bad? I heard we could get up to six inches before morning.”

“Six? Morning news said maybe four.”

“Oh, I like that better. Let’s go with that.” You smiled. “The usual?”

He let out a low chuckle. “You’re coming to know me too well, I think.”

Your cheeks grew warm with that. The usual was nothing more than a Sumatran blend, served black, so it took no special skill to remember it. You moved to the pot, which had only been brewed a few minutes earlier, and filled a cardboard travel cup, then snapped the lid on and brought it back. “Here you go.”

He took the cup from you, his fingers just brushing yours, and maybe it was only your imagination, but you’d swear his eyes widened at the contact. You certainly felt your heart skip a beat, felt a jolt race along your left arm.

You rang up the coffee, he paid, and then as was his routine, he went and sat at a table closer to the fireplace, where a fire danced and crackled softly on the hearth to take the chill out of those coming in from the cold. He pulled off the travel lid and sat back in his chair and just sipped his coffee while thumbing through his phone. The morning rush slowed a few minutes later, and you looked up when the bell jangled again. A tall, slender woman with dark hair and a deep furrow between her eyebrows came into Brewster’s Place.

She didn't come up to order anything at the counter, but instead marched right over to where John sat and your heart sank when she lowered into the chair across from his. For a while now, you and he had become friendly and you wondered if it was possible that he might actually be interested in you. He sometimes seemed to linger at the counter, and more than once you’d found yourself over by where he sat, chatting away with him about the most recent Giants game, or the New York Yankees, or even about his preferred sport of soccer, although you knew almost nothing about it. He never revealed anything too personal, though.

Now you knew why.

The woman—his wife? His girlfriend?—scowled now. “I’m tired of this same argument, John. I’ve had enough.”

“You’ve had enough? Beth, I said no. I’m not letting you take them. They’re happy with me. They’re doing well in school and I will not uproot them so you and Doug can trot off to Germany or Sweden or wherever it was you wished to go. It’s not going to happen if I have anything to say about it.”

“You’re unreal, do you know that? Don’t you care about whether or not it will be a good experience for them?”

“They don’t want to go. Do you want me to force them? To go before the judge yet again and this time agree to this idiocy?” He jabbed his forefinger into the tabletop, shaking his head. “No. You don’t give a bloody damn if they’re happy. You want to run off to Europe and to hell with everyone else.”

“I don’t give a damn? You are so fucking selfish and you know it. You never cared about me. Only yourself. Only what you want and now you’re using my sons as pawns.”

“They’re my sons, too, and I am not the one using them as anything. They told the judge they want to stay with me, Beth. They don’t want to live with you and Dougie. They don’t want to leave here, to leave their friends. They want to stay. And we are done here.”

“Bastard!”

With that snarled word, Beth slapped at his coffee, sending it showering over him, the cup toppling onto its side to roll off the table. She leaped from her chair and stormed out of the coffeehouse, leaving him sitting where he was, dripping with Sumatran dark roast.

You hurried over with a roll of paper towels and a damp rag. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” He grabbed the roll of towels to tear off a few and mopped up the table, then his dark blue button down. “My ex-wife.”

“I gathered.” You picked up the cup and tossed it in the trash. “Let me get you another cup. On me.”

“Thank you, but no. I—I actually have to get going.” He glanced down at the watch on his left wrist. “I’m late as it is because she was late. No matter what, she’s going to make me pay for what I did, even well after our divorce was finalized.”

You wondered what it was he could have done, but you certainly couldn’t ask, and since he didn't offer it up, all you could manage was a lame, “I’m sorry.”

He managed a slight smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to her temper. And she’s not really my problem any more, so…” His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I’ll see you.”

“Be careful. We might get six inches of snow before this is all over.

He paused in the doorway, then stepped aside as someone tried to get in. He looked over at you. “Are you free tonight? Or perhaps tomorrow night?”

“It depends on whether we get six inches of snow or not.”

He grinned, coming back to where you stood. “Would you like to go out, maybe see a movie or grab a bite to eat?”

You nodded. “I’d love to.”

“Great.” He tugged his phone from his coat pocket. “Give me your number and I’ll give you a call later, once we know what the weather is going to do.”

You took the phone to punch in your digits, then handed it back to him. “I hope you’re not going to be too late now, stopping to ask me out and everything.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said with a wink. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and crossed back to the door. “I’ll talk to you later.”

And with that, he was gone and you had to get back to work. Somehow, you had the feeling the hours were going to crawl by until you heard from him.

John stared down at the phone in his palm. It was toggled to your number, but he had yet to dial. You couldn't possibly know how his morning visit to Brewster’s Place was the high point of most of his days. He’d sit at his usual table, lingering over his coffee before heading into the office, and he’d just watch you, doing his best to make sure you didn't know he watched you. He didn't want to give off the creeper vibe, after all.

But you should only know how you brightened his day, how your never wavering smile and cheerful ‘good morning!’ made even the crappiest morning brighter. He couldn’t believe how nervous he was about asking you out. You were the first woman he was actually interested in since his divorce was finalized six months earlier. You were the first one since Abby…

He shook his head. He didn't want to think about Abby. She was in the past and that’s where she’d stay. And it no longer mattered. He was no longer married, but was now free to pursue any woman he wished.

His heart beat faster and his mouth went dry as he pushed the little green send button on his screen. He swallowed hard as your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” your name rolled easily off his lips now, and he smiled as he relaxed at the sound of your voice, “it’s John. I’m not calling at a bad time am I?”

“Not at all.” Your laugh came low and husky to his ears. “I’m actually on break now.”

“Are you still free tonight? Snow looks like it’s letting up, so if you are, I thought maybe we could go to dinner.”

“I’d love to.”

“Great.” He switched the phone to his other ear and stretched over to pluck a pen from the mesh cup at the corner of his desk blotter. “Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at seven, if that works.”

“Seven works just fine.”

You rattled off your address, he scribbled it down and then read it back to you to make sure he had it right. Then, he said, “I’ll see you at seven.”

“You certainly will.”

He clicked off, sitting back in his rich leather chair, head back, eyes closed, and smiled.

Tonight was going to be a good night.

***

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#Armitage Summer Splash #John Proctor #modern!John Proctor #John Proctor x reader #John Proctor x OC #John Proctor x You #The Crucible AU fanfic #romance

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fizzyxcustard · 2 years ago

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Wow!!! That was intense. I don’t think Abigail will give up so I’d love to see where this goes if you’re up for writing more.

The Visitor

Ahhh... Armitage Summer Splash #16 - Thanks as always to @lathalea and @fizzyxcustard for providing the prompts!

Trope: Love Triangle

Quote: “As long as you’re here.”

RA Character: John Proctor

Relationship: Modern!John Proctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Scorned woman

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,967

***

His secretary rapped on the door, then opened it to poke her head into his office. “Mr. Proctor? You’ve a visitor.”

He looked up from the file he’d been studying. “A visitor? Who?”

“A Miss Williams.”

His gut kinked, although he tried to keep it from showing on his face as he set down his pen and shook his head. “Tell her I’m in a meeting and am not to be disturbed.”

He finished up the work on his desk and as he emerged from his office and passed by Anna, he said, “If Miss Williams shows up again, she is not to be admitted, understood?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Proctor.” She smiled up at him. “Heading out?”

“I am. I have somewhere to be by eight.”

“A hot date?”

He laughed. “Something like that.”

“Well, have fun and I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

He drew on his coat and picked up his briefcase. “You, too, Anna.”

“What else am I to do, when you won’t return my calls or see me?”

“Take the hint, that’s what. I told you, it’s over.”

“You say that but I don’t think you mean it.” She shot up from the narrow wood bench where she’d been sitting and reached for him. “I just need a minute, John. Just talk to me.”

His BMW 540i sedan was parked in the far corner, and Abigail dogged him the entire way, saying, “Why won’t you just talk to me? What’ve I done that was so wrong?”

“Yes, I was married. And no, you were’t alone. But, that was then and this is now, and we are done.”

She grabbed his arm, her fingers clamping about him, digging into him like a falcon’s talons. “But, your divorce is final now, isn’t it? You’re free to be with whoever you want now, right?”

“I am.” He jerked his arm free and tugged open the driver’s side door. “And I’m seeing someone else, Abigail. And I am not letting you ruin this as well.”

“If that isn’t just like a man,” she growled, her eyes going narrow. “You are the one who’s married and yet, it’s my fault you can’t keep your dick in your pants!”

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

She came up to the counter, her dark eyes wide as she said, “Hi, can I get a large coconut coffee, light and sweet?”

He smiled as you came around the corner. “A sight for sore eyes.”

You broke the kiss. “The boys get off okay?”

“They did. And their mother was happy to have them for the weekend. She’s taking them to their grandparents up in Vermont to get some early season skiing in.”

“Skiing now?”

“Okemo’s season runs from November on.”

Kerry came over then. “Hey, John. You ready for your weekend?”

“I am, indeed. I’m just waiting—” he glanced around and then his voice trailed off as he turned toward the fireplace.

You saw his shoulders stiffen and you looked over at the woman with the light and sweet coconut coffee. “Is something wrong?”

John shook his head slowly. “No. Nothing is wrong at all.”

The dark-haired woman lowered the coffee cup and smiled. “Hi, John.”

“John?” You touched his arm. “What’s going on?”

“John,” Coconut Coffee called over, “I have to talk to you.”

You looked from him to her and back. “Who is that woman?”

“She’s no one—just someone I used to know.”

Your gut twisted. “Someone you used to know.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you on the way to the lake.”

“John,” the woman set her cup down and rose, “I only need a few minutes, and as long as you’re here—”

“I don’t care, Abigail,” he cut her off, shaking his head. “I don’t have a few minutes to spare, so,” he turned back to you, “are you ready?”

“I don’t want to leave Kerry here alone.” You turned to Abigail. “You need to leave now. The shop is closing in two minutes.”

“Stay away from me,” he told her, shaking his head. “I’m not going to keep saying it. Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t call me. Don’t come to my office. Don’t come back here.”

***

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#armitage summer splash #richard armitage #john proctor #john proctor x reader #john proctor x oc #the crucible

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middleearthpixie · 2 years ago

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Thank you!! I’m hoping to wrap it up next week. If not, hopefully before the end of the summer…🤣🤣

Hit & Run

Armitage Summer Splash #24 - Thanks as always to @lathalea & @fizzyxcustard for this!

Trope: Accident

Quote: “I need to see you.”

RA Character: John Proctor (Modern AU)

Relationship: John Proctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Car accident

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,277

***

“Sweetheart?”

“What happened?” His deep voice was soft, almost a whisper to match the gentle strokes against your forehead.

His thumb went still. “Did you see who?”

You licked your lips. Despite the IV giving you fluids, your lips felt dry. “It happened so fast. I never saw who… but it was a black… a black SUV.”

You managed another smile. “I think she will do just fine. She did when we were in Hawaii.” You forced your eyes open again. “I’m supposed to pick up Ben and Sam and—”

“When can I come home?”

“Dr. Ehrings wants you to stay at least tonight, but she seemed pretty sure you could come home tomorrow.”

“Get some rest, honey,” he murmured, his beard scraping against your chin as he kissed you once more. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You better be.”

He winked, then straightened up and with a soft sigh, you closed your eyes, asleep before he left the room.

He dug out his phone and dialed, lifting it to his ear when a woman said, “I thought I’d be hearing from you. I need to see you, John. I’ve missed you so much.”

Abigail laughed. At one time, that sound would have tingled along his spine, but now? It made him see red. “You know what was me? Are you feeling all right John? You sound… upset…”

“Not this time.” He switched the phone to his other ear.

“Oh, really? Does your girlfriend know—”

“Wife,” he broke in, unable to keep the tone of triumph from his voice at her stunned silence. “Yeah, you didn’t know that, did you?”

“Wait… your—your wife?”

“My wife. We were married last month, Abigail. And if you come near her again, I promise you, I will kill you. Is that clear?”

“Are you threatening me?”

***

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#john porter x reader #armitage summer splash #richard armitage #john proctor #the crucible #john proctor x reader #john proctor x oc #john proctor x you #john proctor modern au

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