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amyriadofleaves · 6 months ago

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୨ kenji sato — old habits die hard. ˚୧

synopsis : kenji sato breaks under the weight of new, unfamiliar eyes ─ foolishly confessing his love to the public. you, the one that got away, are stupid enough to fall into his trap. will you two ever be able to just be friends?

⌗ pairing : kenji sato x fem!reader ; warnings : alcohol consumption, sexual innuendos ; word count: 3k ; angst!!!

KENJI SATO, newly recruited, renowned and beloved baseball player of The Giants, is being interrogated to the bone.

“Come on, relationships have nothing to do with my career,” he sneers with a curl of the lip, guise of unease betrayed by the incessant movement of his knee concealed by the navy blue tablecloth.

A woman, clad in a blazer, follows up with her question. “They have everything to do with your career, Mr Sato. You return to Tokyo only weeks before your championship with the Dodgers. Why?”

The silent, yet deafening clicks of cameras give Kenji a pocket of air to swallow hard, clearing his throat into his fist. Perhaps it’s the heat of the moment, but he doesn’t realise that the baritone of his voice had been caught by the mic, blaring through the speakers. Not that it was his intention to shut the whole room up, but he’ll take his victories.

Kenji eyes his PR team in the back of the room, giving them the look they’ve been trained countless times to know he’s about to make a dumb move — after many close misses, perhaps this is the blow he deserves to take. “Ms. Wakita, right? Ever associate something you love with someone you’ve loved? Well — I’m simply here to feel a little closer to that someone. I hope you understand, Ms. Wakita, that I wish to not elaborate any further.”

He shoots a small smirk at the camera airing this conference live, hoping with some semblance of his untouched ego that you’d see it.

Ami Wakita eyes him with an amused look, penning down every word of his down to a T. Kenji Sato, sitting on the other side of the room, takes a generous gulp of water before plastering that shit eating grin that glitters amongst the sea of camera flashes. “That’s all for tonight, everyone. Keep your eye out for the Ken Sato on the field.” A subtle wink at the camera goes unnoticed by the man behind it, but certainly not by you.

Because nothing gets past you.

You chuckle nervously at the man seated next to you, the silhouette of your ex tracing every inch the projector can cover. Sure, word had spread about Ken Sato returning to Tokyo, but you thought it an utter sham; whether it was in the States, or home in Japan, gossip columns would and still will fight tooth and nail for ways of profit. And you, of all people, should know this well. Though hard to admit, his face swamped you with a multitude of emotions your trip to the bar was supposed to help with, but little Ken just had to ruin the fun — along with the pleasure your distraction, a white, tall, and borderline conceited man was supposed to provide you with.

Looks like that’s going to have to be another day, then.

“You a fan of that guy?” the man asks, brusquely pointing to the live broadcast.

Adjusting your top, you sceptically analyse the way his eyes dip to your chest, and your brows furrow as his gaze trails lower, and lower… “More than a fan actually.” your voice comes out meek, and you think this is how you broadcast your lie to the world. But your audience is a tipsy man with a shell for a brain, so what threat does he bring to you?

More than a fan, huh? It was definitely more than that. From late night drinks to advancements you swear on your whole being to not speak of, you think you’d consider yourself more than that.

Frankly, with no terms to address the man except for using the term ‘man’, you know nothing about the drunk specimen in front of you — and he knows nothing of you, either.

He scoots closer to you, arms rested against the bar table. The stifling scent of his cologne does nothing to drown the beer’s breath with every syllable coming out his mouth. “Well if you’re the fan you claim to be, how have you not recognised me yet?”

You almost scowl at his cockiness. It’s even worse than Ken’s! God. “Well, unfortunately, I only focus on the important players. ” Your words come out muffled as you take a shot of vodka, sliding it across the table to request for another to add to your tab. It’s your fifth, and you haven’t even started feeling fuzzy yet; this is going to be a long night.

The man, on the other hand, seems piss drunk — and given your observations, this is only his third shot.

Lightweight, you note, his flushed cheeks and lidded eyes a spectacle for sore eyes. You feel your heart constrict into itself; for a second, in your stupor, his face flits to Ken's. Pulling away from him, you turn your head to the couple sat in a booth to divert your attention, but it only makes matters worse — so you resort to shutting the world out.

“I could show you how important I am if you’d come over to my place,” the man mewls, slithering his hand onto your thigh. It’s awfully easy to catch his bluff, and you certainly aren’t buying that awful sneer.

A nervous, polite laugh leaves your lips before you swat his arm away with a chastising glare. “I think you’ve got this wrong. I don’t think you know how important I am.”

He begins to giggle, and he keeps on giggling until he’s caught by a snort. You can’t help but grimace. There are many things you aren’t sure of, but you know for a fact that there was absolutely no shot that this man was an athlete. “And just who might you be?”

A satisfied smile tugs at the sides of your lips. “That just gives you your answer. I’m too important for you, and our conversation is over.”

You grab your purse and slam a hundred dollar bill onto the table, swiping the man’s shot and downing your own shot and his at once. The buzz of alcohol numbs the burn as it travels down your throat.

He grabs your wrist with a quivering grip. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Haven’t you heard? I am the most demanded model in this city. So if you think you can win me over with sweet talk, you’re wrong.” You wrench the hold he has on you, and backhand him (though the swing is terribly calculated).

See, if you were sober, you would’ve held him to it — that he owed you. But with seven shots of vodka now finally working its way through your system, you let it slide.

Your stilettos click angrily against the marble floor, and you walk out with two lies.

The first: You weren’t at the bar for a good time.

The second: You definitely aren't a model at the biggest agency in Tokyo.

The bell tied to the handle of the door jingles as you storm out (with a concerning amount of difficulty) of the bar with your thumb out on the road.

“Taxi!” you shout, to no fruition.

After ten minutes of nothing, an orange taxi stops and swerves to your end of the sidewalk.

Stumbling into the taxi with nothing to show for the decorum you had seven shots ago, you slip off your heels and hug the headrest of the taxi driver. “To the Sato Residence please,” you command — or so you think you do — before keeling to the side and vomiting up your dinner.

“Ken. I don’t think that was a very good idea,” the supercomputer Mina reprimands, robotic arms reaching for her spherical head.

Ken maintains an unbothered pose with his arms crossed. “But it sure as hell was an amazing one.” He curtly taps the bottom of his couch with his heel to reach for a drink in his mini fridge, only for it to shine with the enthusiasm of seven coconut water cans.

“Ugh Mina,” he groans, sliding a clammy hand down his face. “Do you not have anything else?”

“Would you like it if I gave you water instead?”

This only spurs him to move both his hands to cover his face in what Mina detects is shame. She floats closer to him, the light of her eyepiece a stinging pain against the backdrop of dimness. “Is something wrong? I detect you are going through… some stress.”

“Yes Mina, yes I am! And it’s not ‘cause I just outed being in love with someone in Tokyo —” He trails off, digging himself into a deeper hole when hit with the realisation that Tokyo, out of the cities in Japan, is a small world of connection. Everyone knows everyone. Shit.

She reaches for a can of coconut water with a metallic arm and opens it, offering it to him. Ken, coming empty for excuses, accepts the drink, wincing as he sips it. “It’s ‘cause I still — nevermind.”

“Because you still what, Ken?”

“Goddamnit Mina. Do I have to spell it out for you? I still miss this girl!” He thinks of you and almost makes himself sick at the thought of you with another man; and for a sudden, lurching moment, he wishes he never had an imagination at all.

He slumps into his seat, peeking through the slits of his fingers, admittedly curious to see what the robot’s reaction to his statement would be.

Ken visibly wilts when she doesn’t move a muscle — or robotic limb, or whatever.

“Would you like for me to contact her?” “Yeah no, no.” He shakes his head, but stops mid-action. “Wait — how do you know who I’m talking about? I don’t think I’ve ever talked about her, have I?”

She floats around him as if in orbit, and pokes at his head. He whines out an ow! “You have. When severely intoxicated. Which is why I’m not giving you anything other than coconut water.” “God save me.”

And that He does, when Ken’s moping is interrupted with a ding of the entrance.

You rethink what you’ve known about yourself, and it’s that you certainly cannot take seven shots of vodka, and that it leads you to doing stupid things: like walking half a kilometre of an automatic bridge just to have it out with Ken Sato.

Any normal person would have walked the distance in less than five minutes, but it took you twenty. Still, in your eyes, pretty impressive. You give yourself a pat on the back; but for some reason, the intention is off and you’ve just slapped yourself in the chest. Way to go.

The alarm to his house doesn’t blare when you heave the gate open. Woah, since when did it get so heavy? You giggle to yourself, the prospect of no alarms going off an unimportant matter in the midst of your exhilaration.

Stumbling to his doorstep, your heels click sloppily on cement — confident stride muffled by the slurring of words you never knew existed in the first place. You feel your way to the entrance, sliding your hands across a bike — his bike. If your sight wasn’t blurred, you could spot a polaroid of a familiar face taped just a little to the left of the speedometer.

Your wandering hands lose hold of the vehicle and feel for the doorbell, and clumsy you misses the mark. Bullseye, your Ken would say, glimmering with all the love in the world when your arrow proved as accurate as your aim.

Leaning against a pillar, you almost slip forward before the door opens just in time. But instead of meeting marble, you meet the warmth of an embrace.

Seeing him in the flesh stirs something terribly nostalgic you could definitely use for vomiting in the taxi again.

“Hey, Ken Sato, how’s it going?” you mumble with your gestures sluggish — and ultimately, very miscalculated; so your attempt at sounding sober goes to waste the second you bump head first into the man who completely did not expect to see you.

Ken stumbles backward in both surprise and the sudden addition of weight on either side of his arms; and to him, you sound like a garbled mess. But above all, you’re still the same girl who cussed him out the first time you met.

You try to walk, but the attempt goes to shit, and you see a floaty thing manifest a bed at Ken’s own command. Crazy stuff. You almost fall for Ken’s offer to carry you, but you’re not one to fall back into bad habits.

When you sag onto the mattress, you see him crouch down so your face is level with his. “[Name], what happened?”

“You happened, Ken. Finally found me worthy enough to come back for? I saw your little speech about love at that press conference,” you seethe, ignoring how your words end in a quiver. Brimming, hot tears, betray whatever semblance of composure an intoxicated woman can hold for herself. Suck it up, you tell yourself — because if you needed to cry, it would not be in front of the reason.

This mantra doesn’t seem to hold for any longer than you think it will, because you finally find something that makes you break: his own, crestfallen curl of the lip.

“Hey, hey,” he starts, hesitantly reaching to wipe the tears staining your face. But seeing you after two years, such intimacy came at a price: your complacency. Would she want it? Want me? He thinks, eyes diverted so he wouldn’t have to bear the sight of someone he never knew as messy. Someone he never knew to break.

He, against all his strongest desires, retracts his hand. In some act of desperation, in some act of needing to feel him, you take his hand and press it against your cheek. He brushes the tears pooling around his thumb in slow circles, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You wouldn’t consider his words nothing, not after he mutters a quiet, incomprehensible ‘I won’t leave you. Not this time.’ under his breath.

Nothing gets past you.

“But you lied. And I believed you. Over and over —” you hiccup, your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries.

His voice softens a notch, and it's so subtle someone as wasted as you wouldn’t notice, but you find you notice it more than you would’ve with a clearer mind. “I know, I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Are you really? Because the last time I checked, you were the one who left me behind.”

He doesn’t reply.

He knows he should take your words with a grain of salt, and against his better judgement, he doesn’t. To be frank, he never did. Every word from your lips dripped with golden honey, and he still, against his better judgement, savours every last drop.

You choke up on a sob, and Ken rushes to trace lines from the cliff of your shoulder bone to the very tips of your fingers. It was something he used to do — a little joke between the two of you. Something you shook off as a placebo, and something he insisted helped you with your anxiety.

Or rather, the only way he knew how.

It was — and still is, the only way for him to level the wrinkles of your face, just so he could at least see you soothe in his arms — for some morbid part of him crunches up at the thought of this being the last time he sees you; in this state, delirious, yet, for lack of better words: painfully right.

“I just — I just wish we could go back to being us,” you croak, reaching to trace the fine lines of his face. Your touch blindly feels for the familiar: the dip from his jawline to the nape of his neck, the scar soldered into his cheekbone, the softness of his lips.

All rhyme or reason (if there was any to begin with) blurs into the fray, and the war raging in your chest comes to a standstill, docile in nature. You feel his Adam's apple bob against your touch, and your hand travels, and travels, until met with your comfort against the cacophony of searing voices.

The approach is slow and borderline sloppy — though you can’t expect much of it. It’s just how things were with the two of you. Your lips hover against his, before you give up everything you’ve ever believed in for a crash against his lips, the taste of vodka weaving into his veins (except that it’s not the vodka, it’s very obviously you).

He rounds around the curve of the bed to feel you, and you let his hands wander. Some part of you screams in reprimand — that for some inexplicable reason, you’d regret this in the morning. But why would you regret having everything you’ve wished for in the very palm of your hands?

That is exactly why.

The high is stripped from you like an angel of its wings, and you pull away, eyes puffy and lips swollen. “I — we can’t do this.”

He pulls away, brows knitted. “We can’t and yet we still are doing this! [Name], what is it you really want?” His eyes search yours for an answer, before he gives you that look again.

You smile, and this time, it’s beautifully real. “I don’t know. But it has to stop. We’re a mess, can’t you see?”

“Yes, we are. But that was our thing.” That is our thing, a voice inside him screams, but the words die on his tongue. Again, and again, his words fail him like he does a lost game.

Everything around you is a swirl of blocked colour, but you squint through the grain and push him away with a light nudge of his chest against your palms.

“And it isn’t gonna stop until one of us does,” you say, biting your lip from going back on your word.

“We can make it work. I promise,” he begs, reaching for your hands.

In an attempt to shrug off your daze, you rake a hand through your hair and reach for your purse that had fallen in the heat of it. “We loved each other, Ken. But I think we should stop convincing ourselves we still do.”

His eyes flit to the floor, and his tousled hair falls against his nose. And to a certain pair of people an arbitrary moment ago, they would’ve thrown themselves against all propriety upon white bed sheets with sun peeking through the blinds, and your fingers would’ve combed through strands of tousled, jet black hair that appeared honey like in the dawn.

Through the haze of your high, you catch a glimmer of hope you’ve never seen him have. “Please, you’re still drunk. Let us discuss this when both of us are in our heads, yeah?”

Tilting your head to the side, it is your only sign of complacency that he recognises amidst it all. Through your insobriety, your smile can only tell him just as much:

This is never gonna end, and we both know it so.

a/n: hello hello!!! please excuse the sappiness i've written the bulk of this at times where I shouldntve been awake GOD I blame it on the fact that this guy actually consumes every morsel of my SOUUL

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x you #ken sato #kenji sato #ultraman rising #ken sato x y/n #kenji sato x y/n #ultraman rising ken sato #ultraman rising kenji sato #ultraman

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dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv · 4 months ago

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Kinchana?

Hanni Pham x fem!reader

Warnings: reader suffers from anxiety/anxiety attacks & low self-esteem

a/n: erm.. thought I’d give writing a try. Any feedback is appreciated. This also might be pt1 depending on if anyone even reads this lol. (Title might make sense later?)

Also, I have used some Korean words I hope they're correct.

______________________________________________________________

You’re awake before your alarm goes off. The same blue haze which sets over you every time you wake greets you. Along with a weight settling on your chest. You’re used to this feeling. But it’s still uncomfortable so you place a hand over your chest and apply pressure, as expected, it doesn’t help. This has merely become a force of habit now. You ignore it as usual and get ready for work.

Clad in your oversized blue jeans and oversized tee, you walk towards the grocery shop where you work. Plugging in your wired earphones to the tiny mp3, you play the song you’ve had on repeat for the past week. Ever since you came to Korea you’ve always preferred not to use your phone much, finding that it only increases your anxiety. So you’ve taken it upon yourself to find little alternatives that don’t require the internet.

The shop bell jingles as you enter with a greeting, “Morning Ahjumma”.

“Ahh you’re here?” she gives you the usual response. You’ve been working for Ms. Kim for a little over 3 months and you were still learning Korean. Thankfully, she knew basic English and was always helping you out. You begin your usual day of work, going through your tasks. Taking stock of inventory, arranging deliveries and creating some displays.

It’s about midday when you hear the sound of reversing coming from the truck that brings stocks. You come out from the back of the store. “Ahjumma, I’ve told you to call me when the boxes arrive. Please don’t lift them by yourself.” You scold Ms. Kim as you run over to take the box from her hands. She’s not that old, being in her 50s, but you knew she’s been developing back problems and you didn’t want it to get worse for her.

“Stop treating me like a halmeoni. Do I look like a halmeoni to you?” she sniped at you. “Yes. Absolutely.” You replied with a poker face. She grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a fly swatter and started to beat you with it. Not for real, of course-you could barely feel the swatter touch you. Yet you faked groans of pain and pretended to scream for help. Both of you were chuckling at your own antics when the doorbell jingled indicating the arrival of a customer so both of you ceased your little k-drama in order to appear sane.

You heard multiple feet enter as your back was turned to them. “Annyeonghaseyo” Ms Kim greeted them with a bow. Without so much as a glance at the customers, you retreated to the back of the store with the box you were carrying. Being an introvert as well as not being fluent in Korean, you didn’t fancy dealing much with customers. Ms. Kim was usually the one handling the cashier unless it was the graveyard shift. Which you usually took over since it meant less customers.

Ready to make the several trips to unload all the boxes, you go to the front of the shop again. The delivery guys had piled the boxes outside the door. You bent down to pick one up—God, how could soft drink bottles be so heavy? and started to make your way to the door. Now, the door is automatic so you weren’t worried about having to open it. However, what you didn’t expect was the girl who was walking right into you. She was looking back and chatting excitedly to her friend, and you, being your introverted, dumbass, awkward self, was trying to back out of her way instead of verbally warning her. You weren’t quick enough and she bumps into you.

A gasp leaves her mouth as she turns around and the box almost escapes your grip. You catch it and tighten your grip before it falls. Thank God, cause otherwise it would’ve definitely landed on yours AND her toes. “Oh! I’m so sorry” she quickly replies. Awkward as ever, with box still in your hands, a hurried apology comes from you as well and you bow to her. You look up and have a proper look at her for the first time and your mouth hangs open.

She was gorgeous. Like.. she looked like a 'first love''. That’s the only way you could describe her. Your brain short circuits and words elude you. You force yourself back to Earth and quickly give her another bow and shuffle away from the door so she and her friends can exit. You notice the friend right beside her, wearing a thick pair of glasses and almost a head taller than her, stifling a laugh as she drags the beautiful girl away.

What you failed to notice was, she also malfunctioned upon coming into such close contact with you. Hence why she had to be dragged away.

#hanni x reader #hanni x fem reader #newjeans #nwjns #hanni pham #newjeans hanni #newjeans x reader

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m0chisenpai · 1 year ago

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strike

˚｡⋆ mike schmidt x black!fem!reader

in which mike finally gets the guts to ask the sweet librarian out. the iconic sunshine x grumpy pairing but its more tooth rotting fluff

Mike finds himself hoping he would see more of Ms.Y/N. He hoped Abby would forget her bag, or book again so he could stumble back into your library and just soak in the warmth of those big brown eyes. And to his luck she forgets a folder, a book, a lunchbox over the span of two weeks.

And each day he comes back into your library he swears he's fallen deeper and deeper.

So here he is, bright and early on a saturday morning, the smell of aftershave fresh in his nose, the curls on top of his head are softer and smell like pine for some odd reason and he's wearing his good pair of blue jeans with a relaxed flannel.

A bundle of flowers sits beside him terribly hidden under his work coat from Abby's prying questions.

"Your gonna ask her out aren't you?" Mike's eyes snap to hers in the mirror.

"And if I was?' Mike grumbles trying to keep his voice nonchalant.

"She said she's never been bowling before" Abby hums looking out the window. And so Mike hums again, when really he hopes and knows that Abby takes that as his thanks.

Abby walks ahead of him as Mike keeps a steady pace behind, wondering if he doesn't look like he's about to vomit or drop. But the sight of you int hat soft worn reading chair calms all his nerves. "Mr.Schmidt! Back again so soon? I think you might get mistaken as staff" you giggle meeting Mike halfway.

"You'd be surprised" Mike huffs watching Abby dive into a bean bag.

"Here" he pulls his arm from behind and feels his pride sweell as you coo and take the bouquet into your arms. "You shouldn't have! Thank you Mike" You reach forward pulling him into a hug and its then he realizes today you smell good. Expensive. Was that a new perfume?

Now that he's looking down at you, he sees that your lips have a little shine, your eyelashes are curlier. You look even more beautiful. And as you walk to your desk with him in tow, you have a gentle, sensual sway to your hips clad in one of those skirts that hug you in just the right areas.

"I was wondering if you had any plans Friday night" Mike finally speaks up rubbing his hands onto his knees to keep them as still as possible.

"Actually I don't! My friends and I were suppose to go out for drinks but mommy duties cut in and they had to cancel."

Luck must be on Mike's side today because your eyes slant and you lean forward to and cup your chin in your hand. "Are you asking me out Mr.Schmidt?"

And Mike leans forward, "I just might be Ms/L/N." And you lay your hand upon his arm.

"Call me Y/N."

Work dragged by for Mike that Friday. But before he knew it he was flying home to shower, shave, fix his hair and pick out an outfit decent enough for a bowling alley. And as soon as Abby's babysitter hit the threshold he booked it to your house.

You lived a few streets over and Mike parked in the drive way of your home jogging to the door. You were beautiful, a black overall dress with a red off the shoulder sweater underneath and matching knee highs to pair. You cradle a small leather bag in the nook of your elbow, covered by the fall chill with a jean jacket that clearly you owned for some years.

"Too much for a bowling date I know" you bashfully giggle.

"No you look beautiful" Mike smiles holding his arm out for you to slip through. He’s a gentlemen opening the door for you to get into the passenger side.

“Now where do you plan on taking me Mr Schmidt?”

“That’s a surprise Ms L/N” he smirks and you let out a silent hum. A silence falls over you and Mike clears his throat.

"Why a librarian?"

"Hm, I was always a book worm but I didn't see myself writing any books of my own. So I though why not work where I find myself most days" you explain now looking to Mike you rest your hand beneath your jaw.

"I know we're away from school, but you truly do n amazing job with Abby."

"I think you're one of the rare few who would think that."

You huff placing a hand on his bicep, "i'm serious. She loves you dearly from the drawings she's always making of the two of you, and she's a kind soul. Clearly she gets that from you."

"Thank you" Mike takes his left hand off the wheel to give your hand a quick squeeze before it returning it to its original spot.

When the neon glow of the alley illuminates, your eyes glow up as well, clutching Mike’s arm. It’s the new place thats opened in town, not just an alley, but an arcade tucked away inside as well. The place is shiny new and you two pay for your shoes and sit down at one of the lanes. Mike quickly ties his shoes, and you struggle slightly, he assumes cause your names must be new and he kneels in front of you.

“Here.” Mike taps his knee and you sigh.

“Mike you don’t have-“

“I insist. I’ve heard breaking one of those hurts bad.” He nods to your short french tips, and you place your foot atop his knee and he quickly laces the left, thenn the right.

“Alright, ready to get demolished?” Mike smirks down at you as you both walk to the lane.

“Don’t get cocky now Mikey, beginners luck might be on my side!” You exclaim picking up the shiny green ball while Mike picks up the darker blue one, he hopes you can’t tell its heavy and he’s struggling to keep hold of it.

“How about a wager then?” You raise a brow, “ winner gets to request anything from the loser?”

You grin rocking side to side. “Anything?” And Mike echoes back the promise. “You got a deal Schmidt!”

The first two rounds you can barely knock down three pins. Mike gets a strike and knocks more than half the pins down. But after he starts letting up. And by some miracle you win by the skin of your teeth.

"HA I told you!" you twirl pointing to the screen displaying you are the winner.

"Yeah, alright. What's your prize?" Mike tilts his head. You hum tapping your pointer finger to your chin as you scan the alley then point.

Its the food station, with fried foods among other sweets displayed on the menu. "I want to share a milkshake with you. With a big cherry on top!"

The night feels magical to Mike, too good to believe as he carries a red tray balancing two cartons of fries and a burger with the comically large milkshake sitting in the middle.

You sit together devouring the alley's greasy treats. With your reward, the shake, sitting between the both of you.

You steal Mike's fries scrunching your nose when he swats your hand playfully, but he lets you eat them. And you lean forward giggling as you two share the shake like some romcom high schoolers. Your hands just barely brushing against one another, your eyes start to glaze and you pull back sharply.

And Mike starts to apologize, thinking he'd misunderstood.

Your hand begin to tremble and its then Mike realizes you aren't even looking at him, its whatever or whoever is behind him that's got you looking like you've seen a ghost.

Mike looks over his shoulder and to his disgust, the arcades got a booth where a bright pink hippo is singing some high pitched song for a kids birthday party. Its jerky movements take him back to the same ones buried in rubble from the previous year.

But Mike can only focus on you now, your having a panic attack. He's seen plenty at his job. So he takes hold of your hands and begins to massage them.

"Hey, you're safe, breath Y/N" he's got sight of your eyes and he holds your gaze as he tries to ground you. "Match my breaths," he breaths in for three, holds then lets go. You do the same.

In and out. In and out.

You do this a few times till your hands relax into Mike's. Embarrassment flashes across your face as you look down to your hands. "I'm so sorry. I just can't stand those...things." you whisper.

"I understand. Mike smiles.

"Really?" You finally look up.

"Yeah, my sister used to be obsessed with them. But it just feels like they're.."

"Watching?" You finish for him and he nods. "Yeah, creepy things." Your nose scrunches again, and Mike can't resist and playfully pokes it making you huff a giggle.

"There you are" he whispers as your smile lights back up. You finish your meal and head back to the car. Some old song plays on the cars radio, your body is turned to Mike. His hand on your knee, your hand atop his.

He drives a bit slower, wanting to enjoy this peace. At one point you lift his hand to your mouth and place a kiss to the back of his hand leaving a glossy red stain and Mikey has to stop the car from swerving.

When he pulls to your home he's reluctant to let go so he can go to your side to open the door and walk you to your front door. The light from your front door illuminates you. The wind tosses your hair a bit. You look too perfect in this moment.

"Thank you for tonight, it was so much fun."

Mike smiles his thumb caressing the back of your hand, "do you think we could do this again? Minus the creepy robots?"

"Of course. Maybe I can beat you at skee ball?" You're leaning closer to Mike and he hums, his eyes closing just when you press your lips to his.

It lasts for a quick moment, a peck that leaves Mike breathless when you pull back.

"Good night Mikey" you whisper opening the door finally letting your hands fall apart. Once your door shuts, the breath Mikey seems to hold releases as does a soft laugh as he walks back to his car.

You truly had him wrapped your little finger.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x black reader #black!reader

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trashmouth-richie · 2 years ago

Text

nothing kills you slower than, letting someone go

Eddie x Fem!Reader ; Steve x Fem!Reader

W.C 6k [whoops]

A/N: I’ve had this floating around my brain for weeks, based loosely on the song “Letting Someone Go” by Zach Bryan

TW: underage drinking/ drug use, drug addiction, driving while drinking, mean!Eddie.

💋💋

Searching your bag for the soft pack of cigarettes, you push your way through the heavy metal door leading to the back of Hawkins High.

You needed a cigarette and right the fuck now. This stupid fucking town, stupid fucking people at this asshole school—you had had enough. The heat of the day was at its peak as you made it over to the corner behind the wood shop. Heavily graffitied and coated in butts and ashes, this had been your secret smoke spot for the past few weeks. It wasn’t a picnic bench in the woods where he had brought you years ago, no this spot was yours, since you had broken up last month you had to find more than a few different things to make your own.

You didn’t frequent the Hideout on Tuesday’s anymore; he made sure of that. You dropped out of Hellfire, giving away your dice to Dustin and Mike as a parting gift; the trailer park you had spent so much time in was now filled with the ghosts of memories, and any time you had bumped into Wayne at the grocery store or pumping gas, you smiled shyly and waved. Wondering if Eddie ever told him why you weren’t around anymore. Why you didn’t surprise them anymore on Saturday mornings with almost stale, day old donuts.

This wasn’t a typical breakup, he didn’t have a new girlfriend and you didn’t have a new boyfriend. Eddie had been pushing you away for weeks, unthreaded the strings of your hearts from one another and drifted apart. It wasn’t easy seeing him around school, interacting with your mutual friends who were now only his friends, waving in the hallways to you as a sort of pity, eyes casted downward when they were with him, loyal to their DM.

The sting of the breakup and the events that unfolded that night were still fresh in your mind. The way the rain fell as you fought with him in front of his trailer, both drenched to the core, his curls lengthening from the heaviness of the rain, chin quivering, shoulders sagged. The pitter sound of the drops of rain hitting his leather clad arms. Seeping through the crooks of his rings, threatening to let them slip off his fingers, wetting the tape used to make them a bit smaller.

Exhaling a line of smoke through your mouth you shudder at the memory. You didn’t want to think about that night or even him. Long legs and baggy jeans stroll beside you, you know it’s her before she even says anything, passing her the cigarette you chuckle when her blue fingernails swing down to take it out of your hands.

“I swear Ms. O’Donnell has a stick up her ass.” Robin explains, “I hope her car breaks down on her way home tonight.” She huffs and throws her back against the brick, one foot folded upwards pressed against the wall.

“She does,” you blow a cloud of smoke from your nose, “it’s sideways.”

Robin snorts, smoke escaping her lips as she exhales, “So are we going to Steve’s party tonight or are you going to bail, again?”

Your response comes slower than you had hoped, you really didn’t want to see him there. Usually avoiding any opportunity you could have of running into him.

“It’s been a month,” Robin says softly, treading lightly on the sore subject hoping not to break the ice of your fragile sanity, “besides, he probably won’t even be there.” She was right, he didn’t hangout with that crowd. The hellfire boys wouldn’t be there so why would he?

“I know… I just— if I see him with someone else it would actually kill me.” Robin knows you better than anyone, she knows how hard it has been for you. Moving through the motions of these last few weeks as if they were on film and you were just a bystander. “Three years is a long time to have it just end over an argument.” The first few days of your breakup it was rumored that he was fooling around with Chrissy Cunningham. The thought of that alone was enough to get you to miss school for a week straight. Refusing to leave your bed, holed up around your sheets like a baby being swaddled. The pain was too much. Robin had stopped by multiple times and assured you it wasn’t true. But the idea of him moving on so quickly, hurt.

“It is—you’re right.” Robin says, turning to you resting her head on the wall, “And you have every right to be upset. What he did—I’m still mad at him for the way he treated you in the end.”

“Join the club,” you mutter, wiping a stray hair behind your ear flicking ashes into the wind.

“So why not just get out and have a good time, maybe you’ll meet someone?” Her lips twist into a shit eating grin. You give her a look as if to say, ‘spit it out’, lowering your eyes to her, eyebrows raised. That’s what you loved about Robin, her emotions were worn on her sleeve and she couldn’t hide anything from you, “Okay fine! I’m like 96% sure that Steve has a crush on you, and if you were to tell him that I would deny everything so don’t even try it.”

A year ago, you wouldn’t have hung out with Steve Harrington, but since you and Robin started working with him at Scoops a few months ago, you had all gotten close. The past month you had become a recluse, only agreeing to go to places that you 100% knew Eddie wouldn’t be. Robin was the one who plucked you from your decaying shell, forcing you out into the sun, watering you like a flower watching you blossom.

Maybe getting out there and even putting on a fake smile would work. Maybe bring some happiness back into your life. “Fine, but I’m not drinking that witch's brew shit Vicky makes.”

The party was like any other one at Steve’s. Music flooded the streets, the thumping of REO Speedwagon could be heard from blocks away. Cars lined every square inch of the driveway, and the surrounding side streets. Beer cans were littered in the front yard, a very drunk Jonathan Byers was laying in the cool grass, taking pictures of the sky, red cups surrounding him and puke starting to dry on his denim jacket.

Having taken a few shots at Robin’s house while getting ready, you were already feeling yourself relax a bit as you entered the Harrington house. Steve was wearing sunglasses inside, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as his hair moved with the music. Surrounded by people taking long pulls from their cheap beers dancing along to the latest hits.

“Robin, Y/N!” Steve yelled above the crowd. He raises his arms above his head and begins making his way towards you through the maze of drunk underage teens. He sweeps you into a hug, pulling you in close and grinning into your hair, “you made it!”

“There were terms to her coming here ya know,” Robin stated, lifting a beer from a freshman’s hand and claiming it as her own, “no dancing, no drinks made by Vicky and no Eddie Munson lurking around.” A quick glance around calms your nerves seeing that Eddie wasn’t here, the tension in your shoulders subsiding.

“No dancing?” Steve presses, a look of fake shock on his face, “I was just going to put ‘Thriller’ on!” The three of you laugh as you look around the living room. People are packed into every corner, some making out, others swaying like bowling pins after an almost strike— trying like hell to not fall over. “Hey dickwad, put that down!” Steve rushes over to a guy in your grade and as attempting to put a lampshade on his head.

“Just give him a chance,” Robin whispers in your ear, “I’m telling you he’s got it bad, just nervous about if you still have feelings for Eddie.”

You did. You wouldn’t deny that. But those feelings weren’t reciprocated. Not anymore. He had made that clear the night he broke it off. Saying he was going to be too busy for a relationship, that you needed to move on from him, find someone else. He was leaving Hawkins and not returning.

Steve returned with the lampshade, setting it down in the corner as he grabs your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles softly with the pads of his thumbs. “And as for Munson? He won’t be here, I promise.” A smile breaks on his face as he pushes his sunglasses into his hair. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

The kitchen is oozing with the smell of spilt beer and strong liquor. The countertops are sticky like candy—a half assed attempt of cleaning has napkins stuck to them like cement. People are crowded around the kitchen island concocting mixed drinks of pop and various liquors, a game of tippy cup is being played in the dining room. “Pick your poison,” Steve says above the crowd, gesturing to the array of drinks on the counter.

“Personally, I wouldn’t touch the punch, Vicky emptied more than half of the liquor cabinet into it. Byers had about three cups and hasn’t been seen since.”

You laugh and a grin spreads across Steve’s face, “we saw him on the way in actually, he’s laying in the front yard, taking pictures of the sky.” You grab a beer off the counter, cracking it open, suds surrounding the aluminum top of the can you slurp them up and tilt it back into your mouth the iced pale ale flowing down your throat like a wheat river. Steve’s eyes haven’t left you since you got here.

“That looks good on you,” he says, taking a sip of his own beer, brown honeyed eyes pouring into yours.

You give him a confused glance, “the beer?”

He laughs and gestures to your lips, “a smile.” Your cheeks heat with a blush, you weren’t good with flirting. You and Eddie had only gotten together because you spun the bottle in his direction that summer night between 8th grade and Freshman year in Namcy Wheeler basements. Steve holds your elbow and looks at you through his lashes. Of course he was good looking, he was tall, hair always perfectly positioned, strong facial features and those dreamy honey eyes could make anyone fall for him. You smile shyly at him and take another sip of your beer. “Wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see it again,” he whispers into your ear, pulling back closer than he was before.

Steve had known the ins and outs of your breakup just like Robin had. You had spent countless nights sitting on the floor of Scoops sampling the flavors while you delved out the inner workings of why Eddie did what he did. You were heart broken, no other way to say it. And it had hurt Steve to see you so low. You had done your best to avoid Eddie entirely, and Steve would do anything to try to help.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, looking down at your shoes and back up to Steve, “I wasn’t sure either.” Maybe it would be easier to get over Eddie if you just moved on from him, finding comfort in someone else, even if just for a night.

“I, uh— can’t believe he’d be that stupid.” Steve says, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. Your brows knit slightly together as Steve continues moving a strand of hair from your face, “Eddie I mean. Cause if you were mine, I would never let you go.”

A shy smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you look up at Steve. Those nights at Scoops had made you all closer, the three of you spilling your guts about relationships gone bad, secret hookups, etc. Not in any of those nights did you put together that Steve liked you more than a friend. Usually you were too busy daydreaming about a time where Eddie was still yours, still the sweet Eddie you had known and fallen in love with. Now he would hold his head high above yours in the hallways, never even glancing your way. You search your mind trying to remember if Steve talked about any girls during that time but you can’t think of any.

“Oh come on Steve, you don’t mean that,” you shake your head, Steve gently placed a finger under your chin positioning your face towards his.

“I mean it,” he says sternly with a hint of softness, “I care about you, a lot.” His eyes show sadness, your stomach flutters at his words. Maybe it’s the alcohol making this easy for you, or maybe it’s the way he’s staring so deep into your soul your whole body is tingling, but you feel safe with Steve. You can’t help yourself when you lean into him, licking your lips slightly and closing your eyes.

“Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why the hell are you making me do this?” Eddie huffs as he jumps out of the van and stomps up the sidewalk to Steve Harrington’s house.

“You’re the one who kept saying you were bored,” Dustin says, “listen I know you’ve never hung out with Steve before, but once you do you’ll see he’s a pretty cool guy.” A mouthful of braces smiles up at him.

Hellfire had ended early since none of the boys could defeat Eddie’s sadistic campaign. They were out of Doritos and Family Video didn’t have any new releases this week. “Yeah I doubt that,” Eddie scowled. He was finding it more and more difficult to be happy this last month. He thought breaking up would push him in the right direction of where he wanted to go, leaving Hawkins for good after graduation, getting a record deal, maybe. But so far all he had was one more failing grade before he was held back, again. He was annoyed beyond belief, hating himself for being so naive.

Agreeing to go with Dustin so he wouldn’t get himself into trouble, Eddie walks faster to the party, his Reeboks squeaking beneath him. Dustin makes it to the door first, “should I take my shoes off or should I leave them on? There aren’t any shoes here, are they somewhere else?”

Eddie chuckles at his younger friend, “keep ‘em on, easier to run if the cops come,” he says, eyes wide to scare Dustin.

“Come on man, don’t say that.” Dustin says, following Eddie as he made his way up the steps to the split level home. Maybe a few beers would help his mood. Not fair to Dustin that he has such a shitty attitude lately, the kid worships Steve so he could hangout for a bit, drink a few beers and then go home. Landing on the top step peering into the kitchen, Eddie stops dead.

Watching your lips move with Steve’s has Eddie feeling sick to his stomach. He’s convinced his heart stops beating. Blood rushing to his cheeks, this shouldn’t hurt the way it does. He had been the one to end it, the one who shoved you away. But you looked so happy with Steve. “Oh shit,” Dustin says behind Eddie’s shoulder, “uhh.. drinks? We need drinks!” Dustin pushes Eddie forward through the kitchen and out to the patio, finding the kegs, he pours two of the worlds foamiest beers and thrusts them into Eddie’s hands. “Here,” he says, raising Eddie’s hand to his mouth to get him to drink, “swear to God that’s not at all what I— ”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie says, slamming the beer and refilling it, foamy suds running down his chin, “I’m fine Dustin, really.” His eyes were dark with anger, rubbing his jaw with the heel of his hand he walks back inside the kitchen and grabs the closest bottles of whiskey he can find— noticing you and Steve are now gone— and waltzes back out. Throwing himself into a lawn chair and pressing his lips to the open bottle, stewing in his own misfortunes.

This was his fault, he broke up with you for no particular reason other than his own stupid ideas. You were each other's first kiss, first time, first everything. Of course he wanted to know what it felt like to kiss someone else, feel a body that wasn’t yours. But he had always considered you to be his. Seeing you lip locked with Steve was worse than a punch to the gut. Pull after pull on the bottle of whiskey, Eddie’s eyes got darker, he slumped further into the seat. He had no idea what Dustin had even been saying. The only thing he could focus on was you.

The way your hair smelled like coconuts when you were cuddled up against his chest, wearing his shirt when you slept over. You were his everything back then, he didn’t just love you he admired you, worshipped the ground you walked on. He had been regretting the breakup since it happened, but couldn’t find the heart to tell you that. He saw the way you cowered away from him at school, changing your schedule to avoid any contact at all with him, your locker used to be next to his now it was empty. He fucked up bad, but all he was trying to do was save you.

He stands up, his tall figure swaying slightly with the help of inebriation. He stumbled into the sliding door, face pressed flush with the glass, scanning the kitchen. You still weren’t in sight, but Robin was.

Throwing the door open a little harder than it should have been, it bounces slightly at the force. Eddie climbs in all legs first, “Robin! Robin!” Eddie yells above the crowd, maneuvering around drunk teens.

“Eddie,” Robin spins on her heel, a glare to her blue eyes, “you look— like shit.”

“Aww,” Eddie scoffs, “thought I was your favorite.” He takes a big swig from the whiskey, too drunk to even taste the amber liquid sliding down his throat, the burn barely there.

“You were, until you hurt my best friend, and became a giant dick.”

“Well now that just hurt my feelings Robby.”

“What’s the game here Munson, Vicky’s waiting.”

Swaying more than he would have liked and holding onto the kitchen island Eddie lets his guard down, “where is she?”

“Listen, you weren’t there. You didn’t see the way she trapped herself in her room for a week after you broke her heart. She’s trying to get over you— you can’t just pretend like you’re still her boyfriend.” Robin lights a cigarette and blows smoke directly in Eddie’s face.

“I just wanna talk to her. Tell her congrats, I’m sure she’s happy with the upgrade from Prince of the Trailer Park to King of Hawkins thassall.” He says with a shrug of his broad shoulders, leather creaking with his movements.

“I mean it— leave her alone, you already did it once, shouldn’t be too hard the second time.” Robin ashes her cigarette into a discarded cup and saunters off to find Vicky.

Eddie takes another swig, rolling the liquor around his teeth, before swallowing when he hears it. Your laugh coming from the living room. Long legs moving like he’s on ice skates with the help of the walls bearing the brunt of his body weight, he enters the living room with a frown. You're sitting on Steve’s lap, his face is nuzzled into your hair the same way Eddie’s used to when he surprised you by your lockers. You haven’t noticed him yet. Your eyes are pinched shut and you’re laughing at the way Steve’s fingers dip into your sides tickling you.

Always one for theatrics, Eddie starts to clap.

Steve’s lips are like silk, smooth and warm against yours, the taste of beer mixed with carmex on the tip of your tongue as you drag it across his bottom lip. His hands move into your hair, holding you closer to him as he slots his mouth against yours. Kissing Steve comes naturally, as if you have done this before. For the first time in weeks you feel at peace with the breakup. You hear the sliding door open and close as Steve deepens the kiss, moving his head in a slant to paint your mouth with his tongue. He tastes like cheap beer and a smidge of cigarettes and mint gum. You pull back from him, “whoa.”

“Shit, I’m sorry— just you were leaning in and I thought you wanted me to kiss you—fuck I just messed this up didn’t I?” Steve pushes his fingers into the inner corners of his eyes, you pull his hand away looking confused.

“No,” you giggle, holding Steve’s hand in yours, the other pressed against his chest. “It was good, great even— I haven’t felt like that in weeks,” you admit to him, “don’t apologize.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth as he brings you into a hug, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his large hands around your back, moving them across your shoulders as he ushers you to the living room where Robin and Vicky are dancing. Steve pulls you into the couch with him, whispering into your ear about how pretty you are, how long he has been waiting until you were ready to say anything. The sweet gestures make you blush again and again. When he asks to take you out for a date tomorrow night you tease him.

“I think I’m busy, yeah definitely busy.” A sheepish grin lands on your face and Steve’s face goes from concerned to mocking mad as he tickles your sides you squeal and use his full name as if that were to somehow deter him away from you. A noise is growing louder in the living room and it’s not the music— is someone clapping? You slowly open your eyes and take note of the very drunk barely standing Eddie Munson making his way towards you, eyes black as tar a look of maniacal madness plastered on his face.

“Well well, what do we have here?” Eddie slurs as he steps cautiously towards you. Steve stops tickling you and moves his face away from your hair, you can hear his heart beating against his chest as he moves you off of his lap and onto the couch, protective hands on your legs as puffs out his chest.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, panic rising from your chest.

“Well I just thought I would wish the happy new couple many years of blissful togetherness, looks like I missed the knighting ceremony— sorry about that.”

“Eddie, you’re drunk,” Steve interjects, “let me take you home”

“Not really my type Harrington,” Eddie says, looking only at you, “ ‘m not leaving until she talks to me, alone.”

“Come on, man. You’re making a scene and she’s uncomfortable.” Steve places a hand on your jittering leg squeezing it tight to let you know it’ll be okay, a gesture that Eddie doesn’t miss.

“Oh is she?” A false expression of concern clouds Eddie’s face, “how dare I? Turns out,” he says, inching closer and dropping down to stare into your eyes, your eyes burning from the aroma of whiskey on his breath. “I know how to make her very comfortable when it comes to that, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you!” You yell, slapping his face.

“Now now sweetheart, poor Steve doesn’t need to hear how vulgar that mouth can get, you usually leave that for a second date at least right?.”

Steve stands from the couch and is toe to toe with Eddie, both fuming. You try to shove your way in between them before they start swinging. Luckily Eddie stumbles backward creating space between them, you turn to Steve just as Dustin runs into the living room, holding Eddie back as he grins wildly, shoving devil horns onto his head and throwing his tongue out.

“I’m gonna go talk to him Steve, he’s clearly just upset, I’ll be okay. I promise.” Steve gives you a look of concern, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Be careful.” He says, eyes glaring into Eddie’s from across the room. You press a kiss into his cheek and squeeze his hand.

“Let’s go,” you scowl, grabbing Eddie by the elbow and dragging him out to the front yard.

“Ow!” Eddie whines, “Christ, cut it out, babe!”

“Okay first and foremost, enough with the pet names, they were cute when we were together but they’re not now, so knock it off.”

Eddie salutes you like a soldier saluting his lieutenant.

“Secondly, what the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” Eddie preens, “what’s that supposed to mean? I don’t have a problem, I’m just a, a concerned friend is all.”

You scoff, “we are not friends, this is the only conversation we have had since you dumped me that night, and look at us—we’re fighting again! Last I knew you hated my guts, so don’t come at me with this ‘concerned friend’ bullshit because it’s nothing but a fucking lie.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Really? Could have fooled the fuck out of me when you made me quit Hellfire and told me to stop showing up to your shows. You forget they were my friends too! Did you even tell Wayne that we broke up? Cause every time I see him he looks more and more confused as to why I’m not around!”

That hit deep. “It’s not his business who I’m fucking.”

“So that’s all I was to you, huh?” Tongue in your cheek ready to slap his stupid perfect face, “You’re un-fucking-believable!”

“You look good tonight.”

“Shut up Eddie— don’t fucking start with me. I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up here and try to make an ass out of me, in front of my friends!” You poke a finger into his chest and glare up at him.

“Oh, now look who’s all high and mighty, well I’m sorry, your excellency, to interrupt the clever mind of King Steve—but I didn’t come here to fucking win you over. Dustin wanted to be here so I drove him. I didn’t even know you would be here! First person I saw was Steve Harrington and he was all over you. So yeah, it hurt to see you move on with someone else.”

“I’m only doing exactly what you told me to do!” You can’t help the tears from falling, “or did you forget that part?” You close your eyes remembering the way his mouth moved the way the rain fell against his leather jacket, how it felt sticking to your shirt soaking you to the bone. “You were the one who told me to find someone else, so I did, just so happens that you were around to see it happening. We aren’t even dating— that was our first kiss.” You wipe your tears as they fall, pulling away from Eddie as he tries to mimick your motions, his hand falling down to his jeans.

“You fucking think it’s easy for me to see you with him?” Eddie asks, looking at you through his lashes, “I felt like someone shot me in the chest when I watched him kiss you.”

“What did you expect? Me to wait around for you after you basically told me to go fuck myself?” You yank at the hair closest to your scalp, pulling in frustration, “you dumped me Eddie! Not the other way around.” You’re yelling at this point, so beyond pissed off that he’s making this seem like it’s your fault for the way he acted.

“Did you act like it was me? Wish it was my lips on yours instead of him?”

“Grow up, Eddie.”

“Oh come on baby,” his voice dripping seductively, “don’t you remember what it felt like to have my lips on your neck,” he sweeps your hair off your shoulder, “or when I was between your legs, making you come with my t—“

“Don’t— do not finish that sentence! You think insulting me while you’re hammered and a half ass apology is going to fix what you did? Think the fuck again.” You turn on your heel in a huff and try to head back into the house.

“I know your body better than any tweedle dick in Hawkins ever could, sweetheart.”

“God you are so fucking infuriating! Here you are again, acting like I ended this, like I was the one who ripped your heart out that night and stomped all over it. Leaving you to walk home in the rain. I fucking hate you Eddie Munson! I hate everything about you— now leave me the hell alone!” You turn on your heel, huffing as you walk the sloped grassy hill past a blacked out Jonathan Byers.

“Baby please,” Eddie has you by the waist pulling you closer to him. “Please just hear me out, I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. That’s the only thing I’m good at is fucking everything up. I’m sorry I said those things when we broke up—I’m sorry for being an asshole tonight. I just—seeing you with him, letting you go— is a pain I’ve never felt before. And I’m sure the bottle of whiskey I drank isn’t helping that.”

You fish in your pockets for your keys, realizing Robin drove, “Give me your keys, I’ll drive you home.”

Climbing into the driver's seat of the clunky hunk of metal, you are met with the all too familiar scent of him. The cheap cologne you gifted him for his birthday last year, Marlboro reds, the spice of his deodorant that he kept in the glove box, all hitting you at once. Turning the key you press your foot to the accelerator to give it a little oomf to turn over.

“You gotta give it a little—”

“I know. Not my first time driving it.”

“Sorry, forgot I guess.” The van roars to life and you flick the lights on, Eddie is leaning with his head on the headrest, one long leg thrown across the dash the other stuffed under the glove compartment. You speed down the road, heading towards Forest Hills Trailer Park. Silence is golden but not if you’re Eddie Munson, “remember when you almost fought that guy at The Hideout?”

A chuckle breaks from your lips sighing at the memory, “he was talking shit about Corroded Coffin, specifically you.”

“He was at least 6ft 8, 400 lbs, a fucking caveman,” a smile forms on his mouth, showing his pearly whites, “he could have easily beaten up the entire bar, and you just stood there poking him in the chest giving him an earful.”

“And I’d do it again, too.” you smile widely back at Eddie.

“I fell in love with you that night,” he admits, “I already knew I was but that just put the nail in the coffin for me.”

Your smile fades at the memories of Eddie once being in love with you, being yours.

“Can I ask you something?” He blurts.

“You already did, but go on.”

“Why Harrington?” He’s facing you eyes droopy with drunkenness as he fiddles with a lighter. “Out of all the ass clowns of Hawkins, why him?”

“I told you, we aren’t dating, we just kissed. We got close after the— a month ago, and— why does it matter?”

“Easy..”

“No, I'm being serious. Why does it matter to you that much?”

“There’s road construction up ahead, take it easy!”

“Don’t change the subj— “

“Fuck! Fuck! The bridge is ou—”

Eddie wakes up a week later in the hospital. He suffered a concussion and broke his right femur, 4 broken ribs and a broken nose. His spleen had ruptured as well. Doctors thought he wouldn’t wake up due to the severity of the accident. The first thing he asked about was you. Dustin couldn’t tell him. He tried but when the machines hooked up to Eddie started beeping and he started ripping IV’s out of his arm— the nurses ran in to push more pain meds, making him drowsy again.

It was Wayne who ended up telling him what had happened. The van nose dived into the creek bed, the van’s exterior was nothing compared to the jagged rocks and old slabs of concrete at the bottom. The force of the fall crushed the front of it like a pop can. Ambulance crews from 3 counties came to assist with the crash, nobody on either crew had seen anything like it before. He was lucky to be alive, Wayne had said.

“Wayne— don’t bullshit me, where is she?”

The warble of Wayne’s lower lip was enough answers for Eddie. He shook his head until a headache blurred his vision. He threw anything around him he could get his hands on, ripping every single IV out of his arms, punching the cast on his leg, screaming until his lungs gave out and his ribs ached even more. He was sedated. Sent to the psych ward where he was kept on an involuntary 72 hour hold. Refusing to eat, refusing to talk to anyone. He was released into Wayne’s care. Roane County Hospital was thankful to get rid of him.

The Hellfire boys visited, each giving their condolences. Heads hung low like the dwarfs from Snow White after she bites the poisoned apple and is in a death/sleep limbo. Robin and Steve came next, offering to take Eddie to see your headstone. The ride home was quiet as Eddie’s tears fell silently. A red eyed Robin rubbed Steve’s back as he put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry.” Eddie finally said, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I— ” his voice breaks as he clutches for sanity.

“It’s not your fault,” Steve muffled through his hands, “it was an accident Eddie, could have happened to any of us.”

Eddie’s grief wore him down, he barely left his room, his senior year came and went, returning to school was too much for him, the anxiety creeping through his veins surging panic anytime he was somewhere you would have been, should have been. If only he had drove that night, maybe he would have been dead instead of you. He would gladly take your place, nothing here for him, you had friends, family.

He found the only solace he could.

“I don’t usually make house calls but I guess I’ll do it for you Munson,” Rick croaked into the phone.

The high was fast, his breathing evened and he fell asleep quickly. The addiction was even faster, hitting him like a freight train against the rails, he was a shell of his former self.

One night it went too far.

The taste of grease coated fingers in his mouth jars his eyes awake, vomit fills his mouth as he hurls all over the shower. The beads of water beating down on his chest as Wayne places his fingers into his mouth again, making him puke again and again, the long coiled cord of the telephone dragging and bouncing across the bathroom linoleum as Wayne holds the receiver with his shoulder wedged against his ear.

That was eight years ago. A night that scared the absolute shit out of Wayne Munson and aged him at least 15 years. Eddie had been sober since that day, making a vow to himself and to you to live for the both of you. He did escape Hawkins, taking Corroded Coffin to the top of the billboard charts, and making Wayne quit that God awful factory job and go on tour with him, never to lift a finger for anyone but himself again. Tonight was the anniversary of your death. Corroded Coffin was performing a memorial show in your honor at the Hideout.

Eddie addresses the crowd, “this is for the sweetest girl I’ve ever known, she’s gone but never forgotten, living on through the people who knew her and loved her…” a teary eyed Steve wipes his eyes beneath his glasses, holding Nancy tight against him, resting his head atop of hers. “…sweetheart, this is for you.”

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #steve harrington #Steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie fan fic

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fatgumsurpremacy-remastered · 2 years ago

Text

Welcome folks-

My name is Festen Martinez, you can call me Festen. I am an actor above all else and a writer second. I write and draw for Team Fortress Two, as well as the Batman Rouges, (Some Hazbin), and FNAF. If you spark up a convo with me and I know the property and character you have a good chance at me writing for them too.

Feel free to send me requests and I’ll have a look. Current count (41, with 3 more in drafts).

Follow my second blog @faire-of-fictition

My hazbin oc blogs: @mc-tooley-tobias-toby , and @magnum-pritchard-repro

Other info:

He/Its

Bisexual

Transmasc

American (West Virginia, and Texas)

You can send me requests for your OCS or you can ask for mine as well. Don’t me shy, make yourself at home. 🧡

Requests open!

I am a Fandom Writer:

I write for:

Btas villains: Riddler, Twoface, Mad Hatter, Scarecrow, Harley, Ivy. Batman also

TF2: All Mercs AND MS PAULING

I will write:

•Should be obvious but chubby (or fat) reader

•Yandere (preferred)

•Smut (preferred, just reference what you’d want in the ask and I’ll give it to ya.)

•Non con/ Dub con/ CNC

•Platonic

•Headcannons

•Drabbles

•Imagines

I’ll draw any of the above as well

I won’t write (or draw)

•Scat

•Pedophillia

•Age Regression (dkh)

•Detransition

Masterlists:

Tf2

Demoman:

Demo joining a LARP group!

Yandere Demo w/ an s/o who doesn’t like dancing

Yan demo w/ bartender S/O

Engineer

Yandere Conagher Brothers x oblivious reader

Dell x trans husband smut

Yandere Engie and forced affection

Traveling preist Engie Art by @virginstoner666 💗

Go! Yandere Engineer x GN reader (almost smut)

Heavy:

Yan heavy cuddles!

Pyro

Yandere Platonic Emesis py Reader

Semi unmasked art

Ms. Pauling

Yandere Ms. Pauling

Semi Marriage proposal

Platonic Ms. Pauling and new trainee

Medic:

Yandere medic smut

Yandere medic with a captive that goes missing

Yandere medic and a partner w/ stolkholm

Yandere medic lap dance

Yandere medic Cycle of violence smut

Scout:

Get bonked

Yandere scout, kissing practice

Platonic scout

Sniper:

In my style

With a bratty so smut

Soldier:

Nsfw thoughts

Platonic Solly and overstimulated hugs

Spy:

Yandere spy egg vibes

All:

Yandere Red Octoberfest drawing

Would I trust them with my pets?

Demo and heavy x reader Head-cannons

Mercs reacting to a love letter

Yandere emesis Blue x reader

Yandere medic and sniper w/ clingy s/o

Emesis character comfort

Yandere mercs and if they’re comforting or not

Yandere mercenaries and how scary they are when jealous

Yandere Angel au with Sniper, Solider, and Medic smut

My my mercenaries

Soldier/Demo

Medic/engineer

Merc Headcannons

Memed science party

Spy and Engie dad stance

Btas

Alberto

Cornelius Stirk:

Stirk img.

Eddie

BTAS Eddie nsfw snippet

Yandere Arkham asylum riddler w/ shy and anxious reader

Yan telltale riddler with a reader who tries to escape

Yandere telltale Eddie

Yandere Arkham Eddie hcs

Handling it (smut)

Caked up Eddie img.

Eddie frame redraws💚

In my style: Ed and Jerv 💚💙

Nightmares img.

An Ed Kento for Sunny 💚💛

For Arkhamverse simps

Scantily clad ed

5’2 Au pt 1

5’2 suited up

5’2 Au ground img.

5’2 classic mv

5’2 smut pic

There’s a light img.

BTAS Insp. Art

Indulgent riddlebat

More fancy Eddie Art

Dilf Eddie?

Flashy Eddie ing.

Yandere platonic Eddie teaching riddles

Harley:

Harvey:

Au art

Harvey and insert art

Tasteful nudity

Ivy:

Jack:

Joinker au

More whore clown img.

Jervis:

Bonkers img

Jervis img.

Wonderlan img.

Reading img.

Johnathan:

Johnny img.

Scarecrow design img

BTAS scarecrow yandere head-cannons

Comp drawing w/ batman

Yandere BTAS headcannons

Ozwald:

Oswald Img.

Compilation

Au Squad: Jervis, John, Jack, and Edd

5’2 height matrix img (WIP)

Batman Vigilante Squad Au

Hazbin/Helluva Boss

Alastor

Under the Same Young Sky (male reader, ao3)

Vox

Yandere Vox housespouse

It Takes Time to See a Doll, Yandere Vox x Cis!Fem Reader P[1] [1.5]

Vox x chubbyfem reader wip

Ocs

Maddox

Maddox x reader play fighting

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black-dhalias · 3 years ago

Text

Blunt Force

Platonic!Finnick Odair X Reader

Peeta Mellark X Reader

Warnings: Language, brief descriptions of human trafficking, sexual themes

You won at fourteen, the youngest female to ever win, tied for the youngest ever with Finnick Odair. A District Two prodigy—a Capitol favorite and one of Snow’s favorites to pass around. Male victors rarely ever reached that level of appeal, but Finnick did… That’s what made Snow so malicious, so evil to you—a package deal is what he would call it.

Maybe you were too bitter about the whole thing, too stuck in the past, but being bitter is allowed in such circumstances. You breathe in deeply, a frigid District two wind burns your cheeks a harsh red. The furs of your jacket doing little to protect—you hear the distant cheers of the people. So much value put into the Hunger Games by District Two citizens, that even when Two doesn’t win—they cheer for the arriving Victors. They chant for victory, but you only remember the faces of Cato and Clove… You trained them. Helped raise them in the center. But it was rarely ever enough to keep them alive, but 74th Annual Victory Tour is upon you.

Everything is for survival, so its not like you can blame Katniss and Peeta. The star crossed lovers, not that you really believe that pathetic story got a second. Its all a performance in the games. Just like you killing your allies during the day, when you easily could have mercy killed them at night when they left you to watch by yourself. Just like you, they did everything to survive.

“Ms. Y/L/N… When I say jump, you will jump. When I say kill them… You kill them. When I tell you to fuck someone, you fuck them. You may not have a family, but Ms. Y/L/N, your certainly care for people.”

“I don’t have anyone.”

“Keep saying that and I’ll show you the price of lying to me.”

That was the day you learned your place in Panem, it made it impossible to forget. You would have to do anything to survive, do anyone—all at the beck and whim of a temperamental President. But he controlled you, and your body—he kept a tight grip. Your life comes in flashes, colors and shades—bright lights. It all happened so fast. You get dressed. You get to the party. You drink until your cheeks are warm, and then you see the boy from Twelve.

“Peeta Mellark.” Your lips still taste of spirits, as you smile at him—maybe he saw you first. Maybe he was curious. Or maybe he saw you staring, but you take his outstretched hand with a grin.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” He probably knows your name, most of Panem knows of your famed victory as you raise a brow, grinning more vibrantly. “Tell me Peeta Mellark… Would you like a drink?”

It didn’t start out as flirting, but now as he pins you to a wall—you begin to think that you might have flirted a bit. Might have thought he had a nice smile. Might have let those blue eyes entice you a little too close to the sun.

What do you care though? You like the way his lips taste—like red wine with a texture as soft as cotton. Sloppy kisses. Aggressive touches, needy—your back against the wall and fingers in his hair. All in flashes as you pull his ear to your lips, “Tell me what you want?”

“Bite me.” You oblige, his moans pushing you over the edge. And before you know it, your locked in an office in the Justice Building with your clothes on the floor.

You don’t see him again until the Victor’s parade, the 75th Hunger Games nearly underway. Clad in the skimpy armor, not much has changed in the way they dress you—just more skin as you grew up. Now they have more to work with than they did when you were fourteen. The same stylist. The same mentor. Different district partner. Brutus—probably your closest friend of the Victor’s, since he is your neighbor.

You were so angry when you got back from your Games—couldn’t understand why you woke up screaming, when all you ever wanted was to win. So why did you feel so haunted? But Brutus helped, he made you sane. Or more sane.

You see Finnick—someone you’ve had to stand naked in a room with. Sold and bartered for, but at least you had each other.

“Are you okay?” You ask, not trying to draw attention to you.

“Don’t let him kiss me again.”

“I‘ll try, Finnick.” You can take it, that’s what you tell yourself every second. He’s a couple years older, four years to be exact. Stuck in this nightmare longer, forced longer; and some days, you need him to take it. This party has been hard though, roughly ten people and all of them want a taste. Just sixteen and twenty… Kids… But you’re already pawns, and have been from the moment they announced your names as Victors.

You slip off the sheer robe and immediately met with a round of praise, just enough of a distraction. Just to take the attention away from Finnick. Let them look.

Johanna is there too—in the typical District Seven tree get up. You won’t hear the end of her antics, so you stay away, but naturally you gravitate towards Peeta. Your last encounter stuck in your head, locked in—you wonder if he thinks about you too.

“Hey Pretty Boy, miss me?” He smiles more innocently than before, more than you remember.

“Kinda sucks, huh?” There’s an edge to his tone, but you don’t think anything of it—everyone is on edge right now.

“I was hoping for another chance with the famed Peeta Mellark.” You pause, stepping closer. “I hear you’re engaged.”

“And I heard about what you do with Odair.” You had thought his smile was kind, but it held a double meaning like a double sword. Your smile fades and your expression drops, and you’re met with the cruel reality of your decisions.

“I don’t—That really doesn’t matter.”

“If you do it with him, and me, then I bet you do it with everyone.” Whore, that was the word Snow used the first time he partnered you with Finnick.

It echoes; however, what can you do? You go numb, then you harden and walk away. A heart of stone is the only way to survive the things you have done, and gone through. Standing in the chariot, your head held high—you tighten your jaw.

You needed someone. You always need someone, one way or another, but you actually liked Peeta. Liked how he spoke, how he made you smile, but there you go. All the hope of having someone drains away. All at once—you don’t care as much.

“Y/N… You have to smile.”

“I have no reason to smile, Brutus.”

In the arena, you stay close to Finnick—he was supposed to keep District Twelve alive, and you made it your mission to keep Finnick alive. You keep far away from Peeta though. You resent him and his judgement, because your actions kept you alive. You don’t need that from anyone.

“Y/N!” Your body pins to the rocks, digging into your skin, spilling red as your fingers blister under the pressure. Finnick is the one yelling your name you think, the knife still stuck in your side from Cashmere—round and round until you slip. Just a split second of not holding on, is enough to send you flying through the air. A salty spray blinding you as you reach wildly—but there’s nothing to grab.

Finnick… “I couldn’t do this alone… Y/N I really couldn’t, its nice to have someone who understands.” You’ll never see him marry Annie, or have a little Finnick of his own. You lose sight of him on the Cornucopia, and pray he’ll be able to hold on a little longer.

Brutus… “Y/N, you made it all okay. Like I wasn’t alone.” Maybe Brutus makes it out of this, you tried desperately to reach for anything, but there is nothing to grab.

“Immerse yourself in the moment, the Hunger Games are an honor, and you should be honored to train as a potential tribute. Next to none of you will be chosen, but a select few will bring honor and glory to District two. Prepare yourself, you will be broken down and then built up into the perfect tribute. Look around, you’re no longer friend, but instead, competitors. Fight well, earn your place in history.” You always believed the Hunger Games were righteous until you won—then it really became twisted. Because kids are just kids, until they’re not.

Peeta… “For some reason, I thought you were scary. But you’re not.” His fingers rub against your bare shoulder, brushing the skin with care. He was the first to show you love, real love—or what love could taste like. He didn’t ask anything of you, only to exist.

“I’m terrifying.”

“No you’re beautiful.”

Your head smacks against the rocks, at least that’s what it feels like because you’re not sure. The whole world, has gone black.

When Finnick feels the world stop spinning—when the rocks stop burning the palms of his hands. He launches into a search for you. “Y/N!” Bu his search is a blind one, because you don’t speak. Or yell for help. You are just gone. “Y/N!” Why isn’t anyone helping? Why—your Y/H/C hair stands out against the dark tones of the ocean. Every time Finnick blinks he is closer to you, he is huffing. Counting the seconds. Drowning kills faster than a blink. Him dragging you to the rocks.

The next time he blinks he is performing CPR, demanding you come back to him. He’s never had to perform CPR on someone that matters to him, its usually just strangers. You come back though, sputtering to life and inhaling a hard breath—one that burns your throat. Too much salt water causing burns to the inside of your cheeks and chest.

Finnick embraces you tight and you melt into your best friend, having tasted what death feels like. It was flashes and bright, and you wanted nothing to do with it. But the moment ends.

“Oh yeah… Nothing’s going on.” You look up at Peeta, getting up too fast, your footing almost sending you back to the ground. But you don’t, you are glaring at Peeta through your vision that continues to go in and out.

“You know what, maybe I am just some whore. Maybe I did what I did, to myself. Created that reputation of mine. But I did everything I did to survive. We did what we did to survive.” You sneer, your head spinning as you stumble back a step. But Finnick puts his hand on your back and keeps you upright, but you shake him off. The whole world is spinning. “And I will be damned before I let some low life from District Twelve shame me.” Then it goes black…

Finnick calling your name, your body on the rocks—his hands cupping the back of your head, fingers coated in thick blood. Your hair drenched. He feels the tears carving up his cheeks, they burn with the salt water. Peeta numb and still as your cannon echoes over the arena. One second you were here, fighting for the right to just exist without shame. The next you are gone, your best friend—your person, crying. Begging.

That’s the thing about blunt force trauma, you never know how long you’re going to last.

Your death haunted Peeta, stuck with him and never seemed to get easier. He couldn’t rationalize how he treated you, or explain away the pain he caused. He partially blamed, no completely blamed himself. Maybe if he had just listened. Heard you out, you wouldn’t have stood up so quick or pushed yourself too far… Maybe you would have lasted a little longer, but you died. Just like that. There and gone.

He asked Finnick in the tunnels, if it was real—if that really happened. It was the only nightmare that wasn’t glossy, it was untouched. Just painful and blistered, that’s why it was left alone to stay there.

You took the force of Panem. Of men and women who felt entitled to your time. Of President Snow. Of judgement. Of a lot. Of Peeta… You were the victim of blunt force trauma long before it killed you, that was the worst part.

“Real…” He whispers to himself, sitting on the porch—wondering what could have been. All the what ifs. He never had a chance to get to know you, all Peeta knew was he liked you. He liked the way you carried yourself. What you stood for. He imagines he would have fallen in love with given the chance, if time would have permitted it.

That was his blunt force trauma. An injury that’ll slowly bleed him dry without there ever being a visible wound. The fact that he might have been the reason you slipped, that he might have pushed you a little too far.

#imagines #imagine #requests are open #fandom request #hunger games x reader #Peeta Mellark x reader #Finnick Odair x reader #Finnick imagines #Peeta imagines #imagine requests

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emmywrites-blog · 2 years ago

Text

domestic bliss

pairing: tasm!peter x single mom!reader (both are twenty-two)

word count: 4.1k

genre: fluff

summary: raising a child on your own hadn't been easy, especially when going to school and working constantly. You had never thought pf putting your own feelings ahead of your son, but maybe this time, accepting a new boy into your life would be good.

warnings: cursing, "improper" speaking (childish speaking), pining, domestic peter, flirting

notes: i'm so sorry it's taken me so long to post the part two! i've been in the middle of moving house so i've been a bit busy. hope you enjoy!!

@ameliabs-world

part one | part two

The air outside was filled with moisture, the orange leaves that littered the ground were soaked, and the sky was an angry grey. There was a heavy fog enveloping the city, hugging it close and tight. It wasn’t unusual for autumn mornings to consist of mist and fog, and to some degree, you welcomed it. It was such a nice change from the disgustingly humid summer that had hit months prior.

Your home on the other hand, specifically your kitchen, was lit up in a yellow glow due to the lights. It smelled of half-burnt coffee and pumpkin spice candles, specifically the one you had just blown out when Cooper tried to play with the melted wax.

The candle was now on top of the fridge.

You set down a glass of milk and a cheese croissant on the breakfast nook where he had managed to climb up, eagerly waiting for his breakfast. Morning’s like these were routine. You rushed around the house to get everything ready due to Jen and Katie already being at work, and Cooper patiently waited while eating. He was a good boy.

Just as you had started to pack his bag for school, shuffling around his books and toys to fit in his lunch, the doorbell rang loudly.

You sighed heavily, running your hands through your hair in frustration before placing your hands on your scrub clad hips, “Coop, can you wait here for mommy?” You asked and looked over at your child, stuffing almost half of his croissant in his mouth while milk dribbled down his chin, “Hey, don’t choke. Haven’t touched the CPR classes yet.”

Your joke made Cooper giggle through fluffy pastry, despite not entirely knowing what you meant. He would give you laughs whenever something seemed slightly funny.

A smile graced your very tired face and you turned around, your tennis shoes shuffling across the hardwood as you made your way to the front door. When you opened it, there was no one there, causing you to furrow your brows and look around.

A thwip suddenly sounded and a blue and red blur quickly descended in front of you, causing your heart to nearly jump out of your chest, “I brought donuts.”

You laid a hand across your chest and took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, “Fudge, you almost gave me a heart attack!” You spoke to the superhero in front of you as he landed on his feet, holding out a teal box to you.

Spider-Man stared in silence at you for a moment, tilting his head to the side, “Fudge?” He asked and then looked down at the box, “But, I thought you said donuts? I swear if you said fudge then I would have gotten fudge but I could have sworn you said donuts-”

“I said donuts.” You reassured and smiled softly, opening your door more for the male to come in, “I was censoring myself. In case you forgot, I have a five year old.” You mentioned, as though that was something he would forget.

The man hummed and nodded, “Speaking of, where is the man of the hour?” He asked and you closed the door, nodding for him to follow you into the kitchen. Cooper’s eyes immediately landed on his new hero and eyes widened, “Hey buddy!”

You smiled and moved back over to the counter where you were packing Cooper’s lunch, “He can have half of a donut, no more. He already had a croissant and I don’t want to send him off to Ms. Denny with a sugar high,” You looked over your shoulder, locking eyes with the spandex clad superhero as he was attempting to sneak Cooper a whole donut, “Hey, what did I say?”

Both boys mumbled an apology while the older boy slipped off his gloves, breaking the donut in half. He handed one half to Cooper, earning an excited giggle.

You zipped up Cooper’s backpack and set it on the ground before walking over, “I need you to do our routine, ready?” You asked the small boy who sat up straight, nodding quickly, “Okay. What are you?” You leaned your elbows on the counter separating you and your son.

“‘M handsome, and smart, and kind.” Cooper responded with a wide smile, his eyes bright and happy. He knew this routine like the back of his hand.

“And what will you do?” You questioned, feeling the eyes of the male at the end of the counter staring into the side of your head.

Cooper took a sip of his milk before responding, “I will be polite, and helpful.”

“Mhm,” You hummed happily, always impressed at the way Cooper remembered, “And who is the most amazing boy in the word?”

“Me!”

You leaned forward and trailed a few kisses all around Cooper’s face, “Exactly! Now, go wash your hands and brush your teeth, we’ve gotta go soon. What do you say to your friend?”

Cooper climbed out of the tall chair and rounded the counter to stare up at Spider-Man, “Thank you Mr. Spider-Man for the donut. Was yummy in my tummy!” He laughed before running down the hall, gently closing the door to the bathroom once he was inside.

You just shook your head with a fond smile and picked up his dishes, walking to the sink so you could deposit them there. You rinsed them quickly and wiped your hands on a dish towel.

“Do you do that every morning? The positivity and stuff?” The male in your kitchen asked, causing you to smile and nod, leaning back against the counter, “Wow…You keep surprising me, Y/N.”

You waved a dismissive hand, “I think it helps him with his confidence. I don’t want him to feel like he isn’t good enough or that he needs to fake who he is. Plus, it helps with his manners.” You explained and then raised a brow, “You, New York’s neighbourhood Spider-Man, is surprised by me?”

He let out a small laugh and nodded, “Yeah,” He mentioned before pushing up the bottom of his mask, exposing his pink lips so he could take a bite out of the half of a donut he was holding, “You’re just a really good person.”

Your heart swelled, feeling as though it grew in size, similarly to the Grinch, “I feel like you don’t usually buy donuts for the people you save.” You suggested and nodded to the teal box on your marble counter.

Spider-Man laughed and shrugged, “Only the ones I like.” He joked and smiled fondly, the way his lips quirked up now being exposed to you. From what you saw, he was attractive, really goddamn attractive.

“You’ll buy me donuts but you won’t take off that little mask?” You challenged, hoping that you could possibly tease it out of him.

You weren’t sure if asking him to take the mask off was a good idea, maybe it would scare him away and he would decide he could never come back, but maybe it was also worth a try. This man, whoever he was, had paid not only you, but your son so much attention. He acted like he had been there from the beginning, showing the utmost care and affection to the young boy.

The male shifted to his other leg, causing you to believe that you had just ruined it all, that you had screwed it all up. But when he spoke, your worries dissipated like a crowd of grey clouds, “Oh, I have this policy where if I see you a third time, then you get to see my face. It’s just like this little rule so I know my fans are super dedicated.” The joke rolled off his tongue so casually, so effortlessly. You blushed at the way it made you giggle.

“Fan? You think I’m a fan?” You folded your arms across your chest, shaking your head, “I’d say you’re the fan with how many times you’ve shown up. Unprompted, might I add.”

The man’s lips parted slightly and then pursed together, “Um, actually, I saved you and your son from a falling tree and then you invited me over for donuts, so it was very prompted.” He argued and you could feel the playful glare he was shooting your way.

“Eat your donut you menace, I have a boy to get to school.” You laughed and walked past him, coming up to the bathroom door, “Coop, gotta hurry bud!”

“He’s playing with the rubber ducks you have in there.” You heard from behind you, “Super hearing.”

You just groaned and knocked on the door, “Put the ducks down!”

After a few silent moments, the door swung open, revealing an utterly confused five year old, “How you know that?” He questioned and narrowed his eyes slightly, “Was you spyin’ on me?”

You shook your head and ruffled his hair, turning off the light before escorting him to the kitchen, “Mom’s just know everything.” You replied, letting the generational tale course through his brain like it had your own.

The boy grumbled before moving over to pick up his bag, dragging it across the floor, “Can I wear the ‘range jacket today? Wanna match the outside.”

You suppressed a smile, the cuteness threatening to make you turn into a puddle. You just nodded and grabbed his rain boots and orange jacket from the closet before returning, “Spidey, can you help him with this? I have to grab my bag.”

Spider-Man immediately fixed his mask and nodded, “Of course, at your service.” He said and took the things from you, crouching down in front of Cooper, “Cool jacket.”

Cooper giggled and lowered his voice as you walked to the living room, “I jus’ wear it ‘cause mommy says I look pretty as the outside. I hate ‘range.” He whispered while slipping his arms into the sleeves.

The grown man could have sworn that he physically felt his heart swell at that, “Well, that’s very nice of you.” He complimented, zipping up the jacket.

You walked back into the kitchen after picking up your bag for school, full of textbooks and studying supplies. You quickly pulled on your jacket before slinging the bag over your shoulder.

“Mom?” Cooper spoke up, causing you to look at him with a smile, “Are you walkin’ me to school today? Or do I has to take the bus?”

You frowned a bit and crouched down, sighing, “You have to take the bus buddy, I’m sorry. But Mrs. Garcia is gonna join you okay? She’s gonna be with you all the way to your stop and she’s going to make sure you’re okay.” You explained and pushed the boys hair out of his face.

“Jus’ scary sometimes…” Cooper admitted and looked down at his hands.

“I can take him.” Spider-Man spoke up from next to you, prompting both you and your son to look up at him, “I don’t mind, it’s on my way anyway. He might get a little bit of cred too.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment but smiled nonetheless, “You don’t have to do that, I already asked Mrs. Garcia and she said yes. I’m paying her anyway and I already gave her half the money.”

As you stood up, a strong hand was gently placed on your forearm, thumb rubbing soft circles, “Hey, I’ll take him, okay? I’ll find Mrs. Garcia on our way and let her know. Don’t worry about the money.” At your concerned expression at the mention of the money, he spoke up again, “I meant that I will get your money back.”

You just shook your head but you were interrupted by Cooper, “Mom, ‘M gonna miss my bus.” He stated simply, staring up at the both of you, “Say thank you to Mr. Spider-Man.”

Your jaw dropped slightly at your son using your own words against you, but the male’s voice from beside you warmed your body, “Yeah, say thank you to Mr. Spider-Man.” He said lowly. It wasn’t in a threatening way, no, it was flirtatious.

You just shook your head and pushed both boys towards the front door, “I don’t like you two together.” You stated and grabbed your keys off of the hall table, “You take him to school, no jumping, no crawling, and definitely no swinging. Understand me?”

“Yes ma’am.” Spider-Man spoke before walking out the door, letting Cooper hold his significantly larger hand, “Take him to school the boring way.”

“Exactly.”

The sky was orange when you finally walked out of the campus building. It had rained almost all day, pelting the earth with fresh water, creating muddy puddles and earthy smells. It was just what you had expected, especially when the grey clouds became darker on your arrival to school. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and sighed softly when you saw a text from Jen, stating how she picked Cooper up from school and he was having a delicious mac n cheese dinner.

You hated being away from him for so long during the day, and you hated not being able to drop him off or pick him up from school. It almost felt like you were failing sometimes. But, when you saw that lazy boy's smile or the way he perked up when you came home, it was all worth it.

You quickly texted back that you were on your way home and shoved your phone back into your pocket.

“Hey.” You heard the familiar voice speak behind you, lined with a smile.

You turned, only to see a brunette male with a camera hanging around his neck and a skateboard under his arm. You furrowed your brows for a moment, looking around for the source of the voice, your eyes eventually landing back on the unfamiliar boy, “Um, hi. Did you need help or anything? Sorry I’m just heading home to my son, I can’t leave him for long.”

The man smiled softly and chewed on the inside of his cheek, “You never did thank me earlier.” He responded, shoving a hand into the pocket of his pants.

You looked around in confusion for a moment, an awkward and downright weary smile playing on your lips, “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person…” You said and then took a step back, wanting out of this situation as fast as possible, “I really have to go.”

Just as you turned and started to depart, the boy called out to you, “Mrs. Garcia didn’t mind! She thought it was pretty cool that I was taking Coop to school, even said she wants to get me to come babysit her grandsons. Babysitter by day, Spider-Man by night has a pretty good ring to it, huh?” His rambling continued on in an attempt to convince you that you hadn’t been hearing things.

You slowly turned on your heel, eyes wide and lips parted, “Wow.”

A blush began to creep on the boy's cheeks, “Not quite the reaction I was expecting.” He whispered softly into the cold air, taking his bag off of his back so he could attach his skateboard to it.

You shook your head and took a few steps towards him, holding up a hand, “No, no! It’s a good wow! An appreciative wow. I just wasn’t expecting you to be so young or…or so-”

“Awkward?”

“Pretty.”

The boy's brown eyes widened and he quickly held out his hand, “I’m Peter. Please call me Peter.” He begged, shaking his head, “Not any more of this ‘Spider-Man’ shit.”

You slipped your soft hand into his more calloused one, shaking it gently and calmly, “It’s nice to finally know you, Peter.” You said and smiled through the corner of your mouth, “You gonna walk me home even out of your suit?”

Peter nodded and brought his hand to the small of your back, leading you down the sidewalk, “Definitely, yes.” He said and then laughed a bit, “You didn’t freak out.”

You shrugged, looking up at the side of his face, examining his every feature, “Oh, I still have time to expose you to the Daily Bugle.” You playfully threatened, throwing the taller male a wink.

He fake winced and shook his head, “Ah, won’t work, I sell Jameson photos. My word over yours.”

You hummed and flicked your tongue along your bottom lip, “Mm, that’s okay. I’ll respect the three meeting policy.” You teased, nudging his side with your shoulder gently.

Peter laughed, a genuine and whole laugh, “I made that policy up just for you.” He revealed, glancing down at you before his gaze focused back on the road in front of you both, “Dunno, thought it was worth it.”

“You barely know me, and you trusted me with your identity?” You asked, furrowing your brows together in confusion, “You’re not good at this whole double life thing, Peter.”

You both walked in comfortable silence, Peter’s hand lingering on your back. The streetlights illuminated the road, shining along the wet pavement with a yellow hue. There were cars speeding past you, distant honking and sirens sounding from across the city. The small stores that lined the street had a soft glow to them, radiating warmth in the cold night.

Peter spoke after a few minutes, his voice soft and unwavering, “So, now that you know me and not you know, Spider-Man, I was hoping that maybe I could take you on a date?” He asked, hopeful as he gestured with his hand, “I know you have Cooper, but if you need help finding someone to look after him then I’m sure my Aunt May wouldn’t mind. I wanna take you out, really spend time with you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as a smile struck your face, a warm feeling bubbling inside of you, the feeling of Peter’s hand on your back now feeling as though it was burning through your clothes, “His Aunt Katie will watch him, if anything she’ll beg to.” You informed him and shyly intertwined your arms, resting your palm on Peter’s bicep, “I’d love to go out with you.”

Peter looked at you, taking in every feature on your face. He watched how the streetlamps reflected in your eyes and the way you always seemed to have a small smile on your face, “Yeah?” He questioned, needing clarification in order to be excited.

You weren’t one to go on many dates, not ever since you had Cooper. You may go on one every so often but they never lead to anything, no one stuck around long enough for you to care either. You usually had better things to worry about.

“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding before clearing your throat, “But, I mean, it might sound silly but I don’t want Cooper to meet you yet. He knows you, but he knows you as Spider-Man, he doesn’t know you. And, I don’t want him to get attached or hopeful and this ends up fizzling out. I just don’t want to hurt his feelings. I can’t have him feeling like people just always leave him.” You were ranting at this point, attempting to get your point across while refusing to hurt Peter’s feelings.

The brunette stopped and turned to you, lifting a hand to the side of your face, simply holding you with his other hand on your waist, “We take this at your pace, okay? You’re Cooper’s mom, I’m not trying to come in and take that relationship away or change it.” He admitted and smiled, his thumb gently running along your cheekbone, “He’s really cool though, can’t wait to meet him.”

“You can’t come over as Spider-Man anymore either.” You laughed and gazed into his eyes, searching them for any ounce of regret, “No more drop bys or donuts.”

Peter took your hand, intertwining your fingers as he started to walk towards your apartment again, “Deal.” He agreed, easily accepting your terms and conditions.

He was making this so easy. You didn’t know how to react to him accepting your rules without any push back. You set the boundaries and he respected them without any questions. It made you hopeful.

“So, you wanna give me your number? That way I can let you know when I’ve secured a day for Cooper?” You questioned, holding Peter’s hand happily in your own.

“Oh yeah, that’s why you want my number, not any other reason.” Peter teased, a smirk cracking at his serious facade.

You gave him a playful look before rolling your eyes, aiming your gaze in front of you, “You’re insufferable.” You stated simply, your tone holding that of calmness and familiarity instead of the hostility that may usually come with words like those.

Peter just shook his head, that insufferable smile playing on his lips, gracing his face with such delicacy, “And you love it.” He retaliated proudly, confidently.

Usually you would be opposed to the confidence, maybe even disgusted by it. You spent your time surrounding yourself with quiet and selfless people, and you already knew that Peter was selfless. Maybe the confidence just added to his appeal. He wasn’t cocky, or rude, he just wore his friendliness on his sleeve.

As you turned the corner, coming up to your block, you grabbed Peter’s arm with your free hand and stopped him, closing your eyes softly, “Smell.” You told him, letting the calm breeze blow through your hair, picking up the curls effortlessly.

“Smell? Are you trying to get me to smell the piss from the alleyway?” Peter questioned. You could feel his eyes on you, examining the profile of your face as though it was a crime report. His eyes scanned the curve of your nose and the plump of your lips. The way your chin softly peaked and connected to your neck.

You laughed softly, and opened your eyes to look at the brunette next to you, “No, just close your eyes and smell.” You prompted, giving his arm a quick shake before returning to your previous state. Eyes closed, breath steady.

Peter did as you told him, closing his eyes and standing there on the corner of the street, your hands on his one arm while he attempted to figure out what you were smelling. The air was cool and damp, most likely from the rain that had been falling earlier. It had an earthy scent due to the wet dirt and the fallen leaves. All of this spread through the humid air, cleansing your nose of the bleach and cleaner you had been forced to smell during class.

“It smells like rain.” You whispered, opening your eyes again, feeling so free in this moment. Your smile widened, “It smells like fall! The rain, and the dirt. God, it’s all so refreshing.” You pulled Peter again to continue walking.

Maybe you were biased due to your love for fall, considering your son had been born during October, his birthday having just passed. But, even as a kid you always relished in the auburn tones, finding comfort in the way the leaves would fall slowly from the trees, coating the path you walked on in a blanket of orange. Fall meant Halloween, and Halloween meant getting to be creative. You loved all of the fall traditions, even if they were silly.

Peter just stayed quiet next to you, letting your excitement and happiness warm his body. He stayed that way for a few moments until you were doors away from your home, “I like how happy this all makes you.” He admitted.

You turned your head to gaze at Peter, watching the sincere expression float on his face, “Me too. It’s nice to have something that kind of, calms me down.” You said and nodded to yourself, taking a few more steps towards your door.

“You deserve it. You do so much.” Petter complimented, gesturing as he spoke with his free hand, “I mean, working and going to school, all while taking care of a kid by yourself? You deserve some time to yourself to regroup.”

You smiled and walked up the stairs to your door, standing in front of it, “You’re right.” You started, looking at the brown eyed boy with sincerity, “That’s why I’ll be going out with you. Now, number time.”

Peter hummed and took his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it before handing it to you, “Do your worst.” He spoke, watching as you immediately went to his contacts and added in your number, typing in your name with a little smile next to it.

You held the phone back out to him once you were finished and winked at him, “Enjoy.” You said softly.

“I will.”

#peter parker fic #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #andrew peter parker #peter parker #andrew garfield spiderman #andrew garfield #the amazing spiderman

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maenchkin · 3 years ago

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- “𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬”

in which darry’s childhood friend is the mom of the gang

darry curtis x f!reader

#1 “Y/n first moves to Tulsa”

<3 Reader is referred to, or called ‘Ma’

Series Masterlist

September 10th, 1953

Tulsa, Oklahoma

The one thought on the young pig-tailed girl’s mind as she stood outside of the 2nd grade classroom was whether her new plaid skirt matched her emerald green blouse that lay under the waist of the garment. But as she was adjusting the collar of her shirt, the door opened gently to reveal a stout, plump woman that appeared to be her new teacher.

“Dear! You must be the new student in my class. Welcome in, everything should be ready for you!”

Nodding towards the woman, y/n took a deep breath of faith as she quietly walked into the classroom. Her feet leaving her standing in the front of the room, every hushed conversation the children were having stopped, abruptly moving their attention to the new face in the room.

No one spoke a word, leaving the classroom empty of noise. Y/n’s new second grade teacher gently set her hand on her shoulder and asked her to introduce herself to the class.

Clearing her throat, she announced to the bundle of children,

“My name is Y/n L/n,”.

“And where did you move from?” her teacher asked,

“Chicago,” She answered confidently, turning her head to face her .

“Well, isn’t that lovely. Right class?”

Turning back to her peers, many of her classmates’ faces were nodding towards them.

“My name is Ms. Wellington. And I’m very excited to have you in my class,”

Y/n smiled a soft smile towards Ms. Wellington, and she smiled back. She motioned the girl towards an open desk in the middle row, which was surrounded by students.

“Darrel? Could you be Ms. L/n’s guide for the day? I’m sure she’d appreciate it very much,” Ms. Wellington asked towards the boy sitting next to Y/n.

Peering over, she took a good look at the boy.

He had dark brown hair that was combed back into a casual hairstyle. His outfit consists of a slightly worn out looking button up that appeared to be a size too large for him and a pair of blue jeans. He had a cute, sort of handsome face to match.

He seemed nice enough.

“Yes ma’am, I can help her out,” he responded obediently.

“Thank you Darrel,”

Y/n may have stared at him a second too long, as he looked sideways and made eye contact with her.

The tips of her ears turned a light red from embarrassment. Darrel let out a little giggle towards her before he turned his attention back to Ms. Wellington. Y/n’s mouth shaped into a small smile. She was very excited to get to know her new home.

Spring, 1964

Tulsa, Oklahoma

“Soda, Pony, it’s time to wake up,”

The two boys groaned from their interrupted slumber,

“Come on Ma, just a few more minutes,” Soda whined.

“I know it’s early, but ya gotta get up,”

Pony finally slipped out of the bed, clad in a loose, worn out shirt and a pair of pajama pants.

“Soda, I won’t say it again. Wake up and get outta bed, you have work in a few hours,” Y/n said before leaving the boys’ room.

The smell of bacon and eggs lingered through the small house. Y/n’s stomach growled as she entered the kitchen where Darry was.

“Mornin’,” Darry said, pulling her in and planting a kiss on her temple,

“What’s on the agenda for Mr. Darrel Curtis today?” she asked as she slipped out of his hold and turned to take out the chocolate cake from the icebox.

“Not much, fixing up a roof for the Keller’s, then working a shift till 5ish. What about you Ma?”

“Mrs. Hansen is giving me a dress to alter for an upcoming event, I’ll work an afternoon shift at the Library before I have a tutoring session with a student,”

“For what subject?”

“English. She’s having some trouble understanding the new book they’re readin’,”

Darry hummed, the eggs and bacon he had been cooking were transferred over to a plate sitting on the dining room table. Ponyboy arrived and sat down with a yawn, sleepiness still yet to leave his body.

“How’d ya sleep, Pony?” Darry asked as he himself sat down,

“Pretty good till I had ta’ get up,” he joked, sending a teasing look towards Y/n,

“Yeah, yeah,” she smiled back,

“Eat up before it gets cold,” Darry said.

“Did Mom and Dad already head out?” Pony asked as he grabbed a slice of cake and a few pieces of bacon and eggs, with Darry and Y/n following the notion.

“Yeah, they left right after Y/n came in,” Darry responded

As they conversed, Soda arrived and sat down with the rest of them.

“Golly, I wish I didn’t have to wake up so early,” Soda groaned, pulling a chair out to join everyone for breakfast.

“Your hairs still all messed u-” Y/n got interrupted by the front door slamming open,

“Can ya stop slamming the door Dally?” Darry scolded, eyeing Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit who also came in,

“Whatever man, I didn’t even slam it,” Dally teased, sitting next to Y/n. Two-bit and Johnny sat down on the couches while Steve joined Soda in eating.

“When dya’ get outta the cooler Dally?” Soda asked, scarfing up a piece of bacon that Steve tried to steal.

“Last night,” he said cooly while lighting up a cigarette,

“Ya sleep okay then?” Y/n asked, pushing a loose strand of Dally’s hair back,

“Yeah, it was whatever,”.

Y/n hummed, turning back to her breakfast. Darry held up his wrist to check the time,

“What time is it?” Y/n asked,

“7:45, we gotta go,”

“Pony you better get goin’ too,” Soda commented, handing Steve a slice of cake.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, cleaning up his dishes.

Y/n grabbed her bag and handed Darry a lunch she made for him,

“It’s your usual, a turkey and salami sandwich with somethin’ I baked last night,”

“Thanks Ma,” he said with a thankful smile,

Y/n nodded, handing Ponyboy his schoolbag.

“Come on Pony, I’ll walk you to school,” she said,

“Mmkay,”

“Bye boys, make sure to clean up,” y/n said towards to rest of the boys at the table,

“Have a good day!” Soda yelled as the three of them left the house, Darry heading towards his truck while Y/n and Ponyboy walked next to each other on the sidewalk.

“Whatcha’ doin’ today Ma?” Pony asked,

“Nothing outta the usual, alterin’ a dress for a gal, workin’ a shift at the library then having a tutor session,” Y/n responded,

“Say, you might know the girl I’m helping. She goes to your school,” She added,

“What's her name?”

“Name’s Sherri Valance, but she lets me call her Cherry,” she giggled,

“Oh yeah, Cherry. She’s a cheerleader, I’ve seen her around in the hallways,”

“She’s pretty isn't she?” Y/n tested,

“Yeah, but I could never ask her out on a date,”

“Would’cha wanna date her?”

“Yeah, I mean who wouldn’t? But I can’t. She’s a Soc.”

Y/n hummed, Pony gave her a weird look but didn’t say anything. They walked in a comfortable silence, smelling the slightly fresh air that surrounded them.

The walk, however, came to a halt as they had arrived at the school.

“Have a good day Pony!” Y/n said, waving him off,

“Bye Ma, see ya’ later,”

She watched Ponyboy walk through the front doors, before she turned, and started the path to the library.

A/n This is my first post on Tumblr, so I’m still pretty new to this

#darry curtis #the outsiders #darry curtis x reader #stay gold ponyboy #ponyboy #the outsiders sodapop #sodapop #johnny cade #steve randle #two bit #tulsaoklahoma #the outsiders imagine

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kakyoinscheryblush · 2 years ago

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Once upon an lost island [Joseph Joestar x reader]

Masterlist << Previous chapter

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

Chapter five, Nights in New York

“MS. L/N AND MR. JOESTAR! WAKE THE FUCK UP!”

Penny roared as she kicked open the bedroom doors and ran inside. Behind her rused a blonde man, who was out of breath, clad in black trousers and a white dress shirt. “-Ms. Adams, I think you should’ve been more careful-”

“The fuck I’m going to be careful! We almost lost our friends! And here they are, sleeping like logs!” Penny exclaimed as she rushed to Y/n and frantically started to shake her.

“Ms. L/n! Please wake up! Now !” Penny shouted.

The blonde man rushed to Penny and tore her off Y/n, “God dammit, woman! Calm down! Don’t you see that signorina has wounds on her arms!?” he exclaimed as he saw the markings on Y/n’s arms.

Y/n opened her eyes in panic as she frantically looked around herself, “Penny!? What- Where am I- Who is that!?” she shouted as she pointed at the green eyes man in panic.

He sighed as he glanced at still snoring Joseph.

“Ms. L/n, I’m Joseph Joestar’s personal assistant, Caesar Zeppeli. Ms. Adams called me in an emergency after she found out about your whereabouts.” Caesar explained in a calm voice, which made Y/n relax and looked at Joseph.

She sighed as she slapped her forehead, “This is giving me deja vu…” she mumbled as she flicked Joseph’s head and smiled, “Wake up, JoJo… Your assistant is here.”. Joseph groaned as he stirred in his bed and opened his eyes.

“Ngh… Tell him I'm busy, love…” Joseph muttered into his pillow and Caesar rolled his eyes and walked up to him and pulled him up by his ear.

“That’s enough, Joseph! Look at you! You’re full of dirt and dried up blood! The only thing you’ll be busy with is the long ass shower you’re going to take!” Caesar snapped as he pulled Joseph out of his bed and dragged him to the bathroom and slammed the doors closed.

Y/n and Penny only looked at Caesar with wide eyes as they heard Joseph’s muffled protests through the closed doors.

Caesar noticed the weird glances he was getting and coughed a little, “Do not worry, I’ve had to deal with this kind of situation numeros times.” he said as he nodded his head.

“This will… take a while, so I advise you two to head home and we’ll meet you at the Speedwagon A.C.. Does that sound alright?” Caesar said while sighing. Y/n, who was still in Joseph's bed, nodded her head and slowly got up.

“It’s fine, I have to tidy myself up too…” Y/n laughed as she showed her bandaged arms. Penny and Y/n bid their goodbyes and walked out of Joseph’s building and into Penny’s car.

“Ms. L/n… Next time you arrive from an expedition do call me or something! Do you know how worried I was for you!?” Penny exclaimed as she started the engine of her car and took off into the direction of the Speedwagon A.C..

Y/n only listened to Penny's ranting as she looked at her and nodded. After a few more minutes Penny exclaimed and rolled down her windows and exhaled deeply.

“You’re done?” Y/n asked softly and Penny nodded her head quietly.

“I know I should’ve contacted you, but I was just too tired to do anything… I almost got sacrificed to Aztec gods for goodness’ sake!” Y/n laughed as she tried to ease up the tension inside the car.

Penny jokingly rolled her eyes, “Well, if this happens again, I will sacrifice you.” she started to laugh hysterically at her joke and Y/n looked at her with a flabbergasted expression.

The shorter woman noticed her boss looking distressed and stopped laughing, “Ahem- I was only joking-” Penny coughed as she focused on the road ahead of her.

Y/n smiled as she patted Penny’s shoulder, “Do not worry, I like this side of you much more.” she said warmly.

Once they arrived at the Speedwagon A.C. Y/n took a shower and got dressed in a plain black shirt with the logo of the agency on the back with some dark blue jeans and black shoes.

As she was tidying up her office with Penny in peace and quiet she was interrupted by a series of knocks.

“Penny, can you open the-” Y/n began but her doors were slammed open, “Nevermind…” she mumbled as she looked at the entrance of her office.

There was Joseph, in his usual crop top and dark blue jeans, Caesar in his white dress shirt and black trousers and Speedwagon in his suit with a small black box in his hands.

“Before we get into anything, I would like to apologise from the bottom of my heart for putting you two in such a dangerous situation. I understand if you would like to take a break from any new expeditions in the meantime.” Speedwagon apologised with a heavy sigh.

Y/n and Joseph looked at each other and then at Speedwagon, “It’s alright, Mr. Speedwagon. There was no way that you would have known Kars’ true intentions on going on this expedition.” Y/n said as she glanced at Joseph to continue.

“Come on, Speedwagon! Don’t beat yourself up for this! Y/n has a point, you couldn’t have known that Kars is descendant of the people that have lived on the island. And while we’re talking about Kars, how did the Commission handle this? Especially Dr. Jenkins?” Joseph asked in curiosity.

Speedwagon put the black box onto the table and sighed, “They’re in a mess, Dr. Jenkins the most. His death shook the archeology world grately, but some other stuff also came out.” he said as he bit his lip.

The others looked at each other, wanting for Speedwagon to continue.

“While Dr. Jenkins was being interviewed, a reporter asked a question about the Sci-Dispatch Press possibly smuggling the artefacts and does Kars have anything to do with this. Dr. Jenkins was already in a bad mood but this made him snap and he shouted at the reporter that, what if they did? This shouldn’t be a primary concern of this press.” Speedwagon said as he crossed his arms.

Everyone’s eyes went wide as their mouths hung open.

Y/n remembered the first time she talked to her chauffeur, Tony Castellano.

“The Sci-Dispatch Press facility…?” he mumbled to himself as he started the car.

Y/n stayed quiet as she swiftly stuffed the magazine cover into the pocket of her black blazer. The driver started driving and noticed Y/n fidgeting a bit, “You ok over there, champ?” he asked as he looked at her through the rearview mirror.

She looked up into his eyes in the mirror and bit her lip anxiously, “Not really… There is a big press conference that I have to attend and I’m starting to think that I won’t be able to do it…” she admitted in defeat.

“The Sci-Dispatch Press doesn’t like weaklings like you, buster. Let me tell you that… I hear a lot of nasty shit that they do behind the scenes…” He muttered as he opened a piece of bubble gum and popped it into his mouth.

“Want some?” he asked as he outstretched his hand and offered her a pack of pink bubble gum. “No thank you sir…” Y/n replied politely. “More for me… By the way, the name’s Tony Castellano…” Tony introduced himself.

“I’m Y/n L/n, nice to meet you sir.” Y/n said to the older man. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of ‘nasty shit’ did you hear that the Sci-Dispatch Press does?” Y/n peered over to the limo driver who loudly chewed the pink bubble gum.

Tony laughed snarky, “Cara mia, you sure ask a lot of questions… But alright… I overheard that the Sci-Dispatch Press is helping with multiple artefact smuggling from all across the world. Not sure if it’s true, but you didn’t hear this from me, capish?” Tony warned the e/c colored woman her eyes widened in shock.

Now it all made sense! Dr. Jenkins was the one that used Kars to find the artefacts and smuggle them around the world to sell them. He probably promised Kars that he will help him find his lost family, but in return he had to find the ‘clues’ that will help him in doing so.

If it weren’t for Dr. Jenkins, Kars would've been a lesser known archeologist, but would he turn out the way he did now? Probably yes.

Y/n sighed as she remembered the events that happened at the island and walked up to her desk, “He was unfortunately a victim of someone else's greed… All he truly wanted to know was his true heritage but Dr. Jenkins used him to find him the artefacts he would later sell to other people.” she said with a bit of sympathy in her voice.

Penny and Caesar, seeing that this was more of a discussion for the three of them, decided to slowly and quietly exit Y/n’s huge office and leave them alone to talk.

“You have a point Y/n, but what’s done cannot be undone. You have to understand that.” Speedwagon said as he opened the small black box, revealing the Red Stone of Aja placed on a velvet red cushion, reflecting the warm sunlight.

Speedwagon smiled, “Besides the pictures you took, this was an astonishing find that was thoroughly looked in the laboratory yesterday night… And the pictures of your scars and the notes you took, I think that you proved your devotion to this agency and I think that you have a great potential to become a great expeditioner.” Speedwagon said with a warm smile as he praised Y/n.

“I… Thank you Mr. Speedwagon. I truly appreciate your kind words.” Y/n said gratefully to his praise.

Speedwagon looked at Joseph and saw him smiling at Y/n as a slight red tint appeared on his cheeks.

“Of course I can’t forget you, dear Joseph! I didn’t expect anything else from you on this expedition! But now, I must go back to my office and look at the notes and pictures that Y/n left for us. Goodbye you two!” Speedwagon closed the small box and walked out of Y/n’s office, leaving Joseph and her all alone.

A quiet moment passed and Joseph walked to Y/n and stood extremely close to her.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked into his bright green eyes in surprise.

Joseph slowly moved his index finger and lifted her chin a bit higher, “You know… To apologise for almost crashing us with a plane… Would you like to go on a date with me?” he whispered slowly.

Y/n’s cheeks flared up, “Oh- Really? When-” she barely squeaked out. Joseph laughed at her embarrassed expression, “How about 7 p.m.? I’ll pick you up at your building.” he winked and kissed her cheek quickly and walked out of her office.

The h/c haired archeologist stood frozen with a flabbergasted expression on her face as she touched her cheek gently and sighed, “This really happened…?” she mumbled out as she gripped her table.

After notifying Penny about what just happened, she went crazy.

“OH MY GOD! IT’S TIME TO GET YOU ALL DOLLED UP!” Penny roared as she pulled Y/n out of her office, down to the building and into her car.

“Good God, Penny calm down! The world won’t end if you slow down!” Y/n exclaimed as she gripped her seat as Penny speeded through the busy New York traffic.

As they arrived at Y/n’s apartment, Penny pushed Y/n into her bathroom and went to pick out an outfit.

She chose a plain knee length black dress with a pair of black flats and a small pearl necklace.

“What do you say, Ms. L/n?” Penny asked as she showed the outfit in her arms. “It’s perfect! Thank you so much!” Y/n smiled as she took the clothes and closed the bathroom doors.

After 15 minutes Y/n walked out and Penny grinned, “Looking stunning as usual I see, Ms. L/n! Now let’s get your hair and make up done!” Penny exclaimed as she opened up Y/n’s make up bag and took out all the products and brushes out.

As Penny finished applying make-up on her face, Y/n was touching up her hair in the bathroom while Penny went into the kitchen and decided to make herself something to eat.

“Alright, Penny! I’m going out… Wish me luck…” Y/n said nervously as she grabbed her purse and walked to the doors.

“I’m wishing you luck from the kitchen, Y/n!” Penny shouted with her mouth full of food.

Y/n laughed as she opened the doors, walked out and closed them.

As she walked out of her building, she was met with grinning Joseph standing on the pavement with a black vest, white dress shirt and black trousers. And his hair was a bit combed out.

His smirk disappeared the moment he laid his eyes on Y/n, “U-Uh… Hi, my dear. You look absolutely lovely…” he gulped down as he re-adjusted the collar of his dress shirt.

“Thank you, Joseph, you too look stunning…” Y/n replied, equally nervous.

Joseph stood there for a few seconds until he cursed under his breath, “God dammit! The doors!” he whisper-shouted as he walked to a black limo and opened the doors.

“Here you go, dear.” Joseph laughed as his cheeks flared up in embarrassment.

Y/n smiled and entered the limousine and was greeted by Joseph's chauffeur, Henry.

“You know the route, Henry.” Joseph said with a smirk and Henry nodded his head.

“Don’t mind me asking, Joseph, but where are we going?” Y/n asked curiously.

Joseph turned to her and shrugged his shoulders, “You’ll see my dear… But do continue to call me Joseph, it’s much more better than Mr. Joestar.” he laughed as he winked at her.

She didn’t even realise that she stopped calling him ‘Mr. Joestar’ until now…

“Oh- I’m glad to hear that then…” Y/n smiled as she looked out of the window to see them slowing down.

“Mr. Joestar, we’re here.” Henry said and Joseph grinned, “Excellent! Thank you, Henry!” He thanked his chauffeur, grabbed Y/n’s hand and exited the car.

Y/n looked around and in front of her stood a fancy restaurant with a red carpet and flashy decorations.

“Well? What do you think?” Joseph asked as he let go of her hand and suddenly put his arm around her waist.

Y/n’s eyes widened at the beautifully decorated restaurant and grinned, “It’s- It’s beautiful!” she said with excitement.

“I’m glad you think so, my dear! Now let’s go in!” Joseph exclaimed and they both walked inside.

They stopped in front of an older man with a big black leather book on the desk. “Good evening, sir. Reservation for Joseph Joestar.” Joseph said politely.

The man smiled and checked the list of many names and checked Joseph's name on the list.

“Let me escort you to the table, sir and ma’am.” the man said as he got up and started to walk deeper into the restaurant.

He guided them to a table with two chairs and motioned for them to sit on them.

“Your waiter will shortly be with you.” the man nodded his head and walked away.

Y/n looked around the restaurant, “You go here often?” she asked Joseph with a raised eyebrow.

Joseph chuckled at her question, “From time to time I like to have my favourite pasta dish here. And you won't believe me, but this is the same place I met my assistant Caesar!” he sniggered.

“Really? I hope you didn’t try to crash him with a plane or something.” Y/n laughed and Joseph huffed in embarrassment.

“Hey now! It was only three times, alright?” he tried to stop Y/n from laughing but only made her laugh even more.

“A-Alright- I’ll stop-” Y/n wheezed out as she calmed down. Joseph sighed in relief and noticed the waiter coming their way.

“Good evening! I’ll be your server for today. Here are the menus.” The waiter said as he handed Y/n and Joseph the menus and they both looked through them.

“I’ll have (food of choice) and (drink of choice).” Y/n said as she handed the menu to the waiter. He nodded his head and looked at Joseph.

“And you sir, I presume you’ll have spaghetti di nero al seppia and red wine?” the waiter asked and Joseph smirked.

“You got it right, sir!” he laughed as he handed the menu to him and the waiter who walked away.

Y/n looked at Joseph in confusion, “You order that every time you go here?” she asked in puzzlement.

Joseph nodded his head and smirked, “Yes! It’s the best dish I have ever had! Besides granny Erina’s cooking of course.” he said with pride in his voice.

“Well, when we go there next time, I’ll make sure to try it out.” Y/n said with a smile.

After some time and chatting, their food arrived and they ate in peace with a few occasional questions.

As they finished, Joseph paid for the food and they walked out of the restaurant.

“Good God, I think I’m about to explode…” Y/n sighed as she shook her head. The food was absolutely magnificent and she thought she would pass out at the moment.

Joseph laughed and grabbed her hand, “Don’t pass out on me now, love. I have another surprise! Follow me…” he said quietly as they rushed through the busy streets until they reached a small half empty park.

It was illuminated by the setting sun and it had a pond with ducks and fishes inside. Across it was a small wooden bridge decorated with flower vines.

“This is the place I like to go with granny Erina when I’m not on expeditions or doing paperwork…” Joseph said as a small smile appeared on his face.

Y/n turned to him and saw the orange glow casted across his face, which made his green eyes sparkle in the warm sunlight.

Y/n laughed as her cheeks flared up, “Well, I hope that one day I get the chance to meet her.” she said as she averted her gaze from Joseph.

“Do not worry, love! She will absolutely adore you, I can promise you that!” Joseph gushed as he grabbed Y/n’s hand and walked her to the bridge.

Y/n looked down and saw a family of ducks calmly swimming in the pond. “Look at them, Joseph!” Y/n pointed at the duck and Joseph smiled, “Wait, dear! I came prepared!” Joseph exclaimed as he reached into his vest pocket and pulled bird seeds out of it.

“I- You had that in your pocket this whole time?” Y/n asked as she looked at the fistfull of the bird seeds in Joseph’s hand.

“Well of course I did! As I said, I came prepared!” Joseph said with pride lacing his voice.

The e/c eyed archeologist sniggered as she took some of the seend out of his hand and threw them to the ducks happily ate them.

After a few minutes of laughing and giggling, they were out of bird seeds.

“I think we fed them for a whole week…” Y/n giggled as she dusted off her hands and looked at the happy ducks swimming in the pond. Joseph nodded and scooted closer to her.

He quietly nodded as his expression changed to a nervous one.

Y/n noticed his lack of response and looked up to him, “Are you alright, Joseph?” she asked the green-eyed adventurer.

He slightly cleared his throat and nervously smiled. Y/n nodded, still unconvinced and continued to look at the sun's reflection in the lake.

After few quiet moments Joseph’s voice rang out.

"Y-You know… I had a really good time with you Yn..." Joseph murmured as he looked down at the h/c haired woman.

She looked at him with a slightly surprised expression, but let him continue.

"I didn’t really have a proper chance to do this before, and I really think that this is the perfect moment to do so…" Joseph murmured as he leaned in closer to Y/n and looked into her widened eyes.

He smiled as he put his thumb on her cheek and softly held it as he leaned in closer and put his lips softly against hers.

His other hand wrapped around her waist and brought her closer to him.

After a few moments they pulled apart and Y/n breathed out, “I… I have no words…” she whispered as her cheeks warmed up.

Joseph pulled away his hand from her cheek and placed it around her waist so he was fully holding her.

“My dear, there is no need for words now…” he muttered as he kissed her once again, but this time more slowly.

Once they pulled apart he took her hand and they both leaned against the bridge to look at the setting sun.

"I can't wait to see where the next adventure will bring us..." Y/n said as she glanced at Joseph and smiled sincerely.

He looked at her and softly squeezed her hand in his as they continued to gaze at the orange lit horizont.

Bonus scene…

*Five years later*

The cathedral bells rang and the summer sun shone inside the colourful windows. The atmosphere was lively and exciting.

Because on this fateful day, Joseph Joestar and Y/n L/n have finally decided to marry each other.

Joseph nervously looked at the cathedral entrance and fiddled with his fingers.

Speedwagon only smiled at him and nodded his head signalling it will all be alright. Erina brought a handkerchief to her eye and sighed shakily, “I cannot believe my boy grew up so fast…” she whispered as he looked at Joseph dressed in a black tuxedo with a small white rose being placed in his breast pocket.

There weren’t many people. Just some of Y/n’s family, Penny, Caesar, Speedwagon and Erina.

All of a sudden the piano music started and Joseph fixed up his posture and looked at the entrance in anxiety.

The priest who was standing at the altar chuckled at Joseph, “Don’t worry, young man… Just smile…” he whispered to Joseph.

After a few seconds Y/n slowly walked in with her grandfather with their hands looped around each other.

Joseph’s jaw dropped to the floor as he saw Y/n smiling at him brightly in her wedding dress as she was holding a small bouquet of flowers. The dress fit her so perfectly that he thought he saw an angel.

As she approached him, her grandfather kissed her cheek and sat down next to her grandmother.

The priest smiled at Y/n and Joseph and started to talk. “Welcome, loved ones. We are gathered here today to join Joseph and Y/n in holy matrimony. Now you may say the vows, Mr. Joestar.” the priest said. Joseph nervously cleared his throat as he peeked inside his palm only to see black marker smudges.

“I guess I’m going to improvise on this one… But here I go…” Joseph sighed but continued, “Y/n, I promise to cherish you always, to honour and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall part us.” he said with calm voice.

Y/n smiled warmly at Joseph and nodded her head, making Joseph less nervous. “You may say your vows, Ms. L/n.” The priest said.

“Joseph, I promise to cherish and protect you in all the hardships we may face. In sickness and health, in poverty and in wealth, I promise to be truthful to you in all things until death parts us away…” she said slowly and Joseph nodded his head with a nervous smile.

The priest smiled at the couple and continued with the ceremony.

"Do you, Y/ L/n, take Joseph Joestar as your husband, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" asked the priest.

"I do." Y/n says softly as she smiled at quivering Joseph.

The priest turned to Joseph, "Do you, Joseph Joestar, take Y/n L/n as your wife, to love her, to honour her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" asked the priest once again.

"I... I-I do... " Joseph replied, hia eyes watering slightly.

The priest smiled, "I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love." he said as he took out a plush pillow with two rings on it.

Y/n took Joseph's ring and gently put it on his finger. Joseph slightly fumbled with his, but successfully put it on Y/n's finger.

"Now... You may kiss the bride." the priest announced and Joseph softly placed his hand on Y/n's cheeks and placed his lips on hers.

Wild cheers erupted inside the chapel as Erina and Speedwagon smiled at each other warmly and Penny sobbed their eyes out while Caesar stood behind her, patting her back trying to comfort her.

Joseph and Y/n pulled apart and smiled at each other.

"Welcome to the family, Mrs. Joestar..." Joseph mumbled as he hugged Y/n and kissed the top of her hair.

Who would've thought one expedition to a lost island would bring two people much closer than they had ever expected?

#jjba x reader #joseph joestar #jjba #joseph joestar x reader #Jojo #jojo pt2 #kars jojo #Kars #Red Stone of Aja #Archeologist #AU #battle tendency #young joseph #Joseph Joestar x you #Joseph Joestar x y/n

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evebestt · 3 years ago

Note

Hiya! Since I really adored what you did with my last request I was wondering if I could send through another prompt for a Farah dowling x female reader where Farah and Queen Luna have this sort of unspoken but very clear competition for readers heart and when Farah sees what she thinks to be queen Luna inching towards the finish line she gets envious/cold but really Farah had readers heart all along❤️

Thank you so much by the way. I really appreciate what you do. Sending peace and love and happiness your way xx.

Hi there! Sorry this took a bit, I rewrote it a couple of times. But I love the prompt! I hope you enjoy 🖤

Send me an ask or a message to request a fic. Search my blog for "prompts" to see lists of prompt ideas.

A/N: honestly unless explicitly stated, just assume that in all my fics, the season one ending that we don't talk about didn't happen. Farah's not even napping, she's still alive and awake and being her wonderful self.

To Find Your Truth

Since the Alfean battle with the Burned Ones, Solaria had indeed dispatched a troop of soldiers to be permanently stationed at the school. Between that and the continual growth of Alfea, it soon became clear that a new position would be needed to coordinate the Alfean and Royal schedules. You had been hired in that position, working as a liaison between Farah and Luna, meaning that you worked very closely with the both of them. You’d been a little overwhelmed by your work at first, working not just with the Headmistress of a powerful school and the Queen of the entire realm, but with two of the most powerful fairies – if not the two most powerful fairies in the realm – but Farah and Luna had both made you feel comfortable in your work.

The women were very different. Farah was quiet and calm, her power cool and still under her pristine surface – but undeniably there. Luna, however, was like a fire, sharp and calculating, her power exuding from her and filling every room she entered, even if it was superficially masked in sweet pastels and warm light. You liked them both, despite the differences, and whatever rumors you heard about them.

And they liked you too. Farah often offered you sweet smiles that she didn’t give to everyone, and your meetings with her would sometimes drift into personal conversation, especially if you had them over lunch together. Luna too made her affection for you known, soft touches on your arm that lingered just a moment longer than a friendly touch would, or heartfelt remarks on how she’d never be able to function without you, all of which never failed to make you blush.

You weren’t quite sure when it became a competition between the two of them. It might have happened the day when Luna astral projected into your office, interrupting a lunch meeting with Farah that had gone long with conversation. You’d both been laughing with Luna’s form had appeared, Farah’s eyes bright with affection as she gazed at you fondly, and although you’d both become entirely professional when Luna appeared, you knew she’d seen the way you looked at each other just as clearly as you’d seen the possessive gleam in her eye.

Though your meeting with Luna after that had gone smoothly, as well as all of your other meetings, you could sense that tension in both of the women, like they both had something to prove.

Or more likely, you realized, like they were both trying to win your heart.

Luna became even more bold with her gentle touches, even going so far as to lay a hand on your cheek one night, smiling softly before she retreated and wished you goodnight, offering you a room in the castle if you didn’t want to make the trip back to Alfea. Even Farah, as composed as she was, was more forward in her advances, eyes flicking to your lips when she paid you compliments, or when you rolled your neck to try and ease a headache, she would merely reach out and touch two fingers to your temple, the pain melting away in seconds.

You could admit that you liked the advances of both of them women, feeling as though you could preen under their attentions. Not only did you have Farah — a legendary fairy in her own right — showing you affection, but the Queen of Solaria as well, making you feel like the star of a period piece, your two handsome, wealthy suitors courting you in their attempts to win your hand. You were content with the flirting and the fantasies of both women, not thinking much about where relationships with either of them would go in fear of complicating things. But one afternoon in your office at Alfea, you realized you’d have to decide just where your heart lay.

Instead of her normal astral projecting, Luna had come to your office in person, needing to update her calendar for you and reconcile her schedule with Farah’s and find time for their combined meetings.

“My quarterly inspection of the troop’s preparations here at Alfea needs to happen in the next couple of weeks — hopefully those can drop to biannual next year — Farah will need to be present for that. It will take an afternoon, when can I make that happen?”

You flipped through the large planner on your desk, Farah’s meetings written in blue, Luna’s in red. “Both you and Ms. Dowling have a free afternoon in two weeks on a Friday — though you have an event that night, ma’am, that you’ll have to—”

“Please,” Luna interrupted with a smile, “how many times have I told you to call me Luna?”

You smiled back. “Too many to count… Luna.” It still felt odd to use the Queen’s given name, but her self satisfied smile as she sat back in her chair did make the odd feeling worth it.

“Good,” she praised. “Now, that’s the Benefactor’s Gala, correct? I’ll only need to make a short appearance and give a speech towards the end, so I’ll have plenty of time to dress. Though—” she came around your desk to study the planner herself, standing so close that you could smell her sweet perfume, “that lunch meeting may run long.” She dropped to her elbows on your desk, hips, clad in a dusky rose pencil skirt, cocked in a tantalizing fashion near your head, and you had to fix your eyes pointedly on your planner. “What about this Wednesday here?”

You went back and forth for a while, pencilling in various events. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh as you wrote the last one, feeling your back ache with the strain of both the work and of feigning nonchalance with Luna’s body so near to yours.

Luna seemed to feel the same, straightening to roll her shoulders, but then surprised you by perching on the arm of your chair, somehow looking effortlessly graceful as she crossed her legs, leaving her balanced on the toe of one of her stilettos. “A queen’s work is never done, hm?”

You laughed softly, not letting your eyes linger on the smooth expanse of her legs. “You wouldn’t be a very good Queen if it was.”

Luna laughed too, rich and smooth, and she looked down at you for a long moment before reaching out and tracing the line of your jaw with one finger. “Lucky I have you, then. To help keep me a good Queen.”

You felt yourself blush, jaw tingling where Luna had touched you. You felt your eyes drift to her lips unconsciously, tracing the smooth, sharp lines. Those lips curved into a smirk, and you blushed further, eyes snapping up to meet Luna’s again, who’s glinted with mirth. She traced the line of your jaw again, slower this time, her hand coming to cup your cheek as her eyes flicked over your features, staring as though she was memorizing you.

Lighting zipped in your stomach when you thought you saw Luna lean towards you, just an inch, but your breath caught, eyes flicking to her lips again as she stroked your cheekbone with her thumb.

A clearing of a throat came from the doorway making you spring back, back hitting the arm of your chair. You blushed even further, your cheeks on fire as you tried to get as far away from Luna as possible, who for her part kept her composure, still perched comfortably on the arm of your chair as she stared at Farah in challenge.

“Farah,” you said, trying to pretend Luna wasn’t there, which was difficult considering where she sat. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t realize we had a meeting today.”

“We didn’t,” Farah said smoothly, still staring cooly at Luna. Her gaze shifted to you then, still cold, and you felt your stomach drop. “I thought I’d stop by to see if you were still here. But if you’re otherwise occupied…” she trailed off, looking at Luna again, and your blush which had started to recede came back in full force, feeling like a student she was disciplining.

“No worries, Farah,” Luna said brightly, looking smug as she stood from her perch. “I should be going anyway.” She turned to you then, giving you a radiant smile. “Thank you for all of your help, dear. You are truly a blessing.” She gave you a wink and then headed for the door, passing closer to Farah than was strictly necessary, and you thought Farah’s hackles would have raised if she had any.

A horribly awkward silence fell over the two of you, and you picked at the edge of your desk, unable to meet Farah’s eyes. She cleared her throat again and you then met her eyes, fighting what felt like the permanent blush in your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Farah said softly.

“No, no, it wasn’t interrupting,” you insisted, still feeling like you’d done something wrong, but why? There wasn’t anything owed between you, but still you felt like you’d been caught. “Is there, ah, something I can help you with?”

Farah opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but then closed it, smiling at you. It was a warmer smile than before, but it still didn’t reach her eyes, and you felt your stomach drop again. “No, it was nothing. Have a good night.”

And she turned and left, leaving you alone and still blushing.

Why did you feel so horrible? It was a little embarrassing to be caught nearly kissing the Queen in your office with the door open, but the waves of shame and regret rolling through you seemed unwarranted. You and Luna were both adults, as was Farah, and each was entitled to their fun.

Deep down you knew why, and the longer you thought about it, the more sure you were. Flirting with Luna was fun, sure, but with Farah it was something more. With Farah, it was a beginning, the promise of something more, a calling from somewhere in your soul that told you there was something there, something that could be beautiful if you both just took a chance.

You were in love with Farah Dowling. You’d been a fool to not see it for so long, but now that you did it was undeniable, and you couldn’t bear not to tell her, for her to think a moment longer that you didn’t feel for her the way she must feel for you.

It was late now, and after finding her office empty you headed towards Farah’s cottage, not wanting to wait until the morning to find her. As you waited at her door, you thought about what you’d say, rehearsed several confessions, but when the door opened and Farah stood there, hair loosely braided and face bare of makeup, all words left your head.

“Can I come in?” you asked after a long moment, and Farah nodded, stepping aside.

You were both silent again, Farah obviously waiting for you to start as she moved around you into the living room.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize for… earlier,” you started hesitantly, unsure how receptive Farah would be.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You and Luna are… close. You shouldn’t have to hide that.”

Her words were kind, but Farah held something back, something in her eyes that belied more hurt than she let on. Sorrow pulled at your chest, and you had to clench your fists to keep from going to her to comfort.

“No, that wouldn’t be something to hide, but I meant that… I just wanted to clarify— and what I wanted to apologize for—“ Hell with it, nothing sounded right but the truth. “I’m in love with you,” you blurted, and Farah’s head popped up, staring at you in surprise.

“I love you,” you continued, “and I need you to know that, because what I’m really trying to apologize for is that it took me nearly kissing Luna to realize it myself. I think my heart has always belonged to you, Farah, and I’m sorry that I played this game for so long when I could have been with you.”

You stopped, taking a deep breath and studying Farah. She looked at you cautiously but otherwise unreadable, and for a moment you thought you’d misread her attraction to you, utterly destroying whatever friendly relationship you had.

And then she smiled. Slowly, but it was a real one, and it lit up her eyes so that you couldn’t help but smile yourself.

“I—“ Farah started, and then trailed off, still smiling. And then, deciding better of words, she closed the gap between you in three steps, took you into her arms, and kissed you.

Luna’s touch had been thrilling, exciting, but Farah’s touch, oh, Farah’s touch felt like coming home. You leaned into her, gripping her waist to keep yourself upright as you melted into the kiss, feeling her warm and soft underneath you. Your head swam with dizzying happiness, feeling like a puzzle whose last piece had just clicked into place — full and complete and radiantly beautiful. You could nearly feel Farah pulsing with the same happiness as she kissed you, making a small noise against your mouth, to which you sighed and opened your mouth to her, tasting her sweet and tender on your tongue.

You stayed close when the kiss ended, Farah running her hands lightly up and down your back, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You smiled, feeling as though you might overflow with happiness, and bumped your nose with hers. “Me too. Even if it took me a while to realize how deeply I felt, I always knew I wanted to kiss you.”

Farah smiled again and then gripped your hips, pulling you closer to her. “I thought, when I saw you and Luna, that I’d waited too long to make the depth of my feelings known. I’m sorry for how brisk I was earlier.”

You shook your head, leaning your forehead against Farah’s. “Thank you. Though I can’t blame you. I don’t know how I would have reacted, in your position, though I know I wouldn’t have liked it.”

“It was certainly a shock,” Farah said, and then huffed out a laugh, pulling your hips closer to her. “I’d been coming to ask you to dinner tonight. Not just as colleagues, but as… friends. Maybe something more. Then seeing you together, I… jealous is too weak a word to describe what I felt.” She shook her head then like she tried to banish the thought, and squeezed your hips gently. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She said it simply enough, but the weight behind her words had you wrapping your arms around her neck. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, and no one else I’d rather be with. I mean that.”

Farah let out a soft, contented sigh, and gently cupped your cheeks before kissing you again, filling you with light and love, speaking just as clearly with her kiss as though she’d spoken it in your mind.

I love you, too.

#farah dowling x reader #farah x reader #farah dowling #eve best #ftws #fate the winx saga

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wannabemobwife · 4 years ago

Text

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: You Didn’t Get to Heaven But, You Made it Close

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Language, Fighting, possible typos, hospital scenes

-Words: 4.6K

Chapter 4: You Didn’t Get to Heaven But, You Made it Close

Words: 4.6K

The night was a typical one at the Holland household. Earlier that night, Rosie helped you cook dinner, spaghetti and meatballs, a Holland family dinner favorite. Dinner was quiet, Tom had been ignoring Parker for multiple reasons, mainly the ultimatum but also he was still angered by the recklessness of his son the other night.

Only the sound of slight flickering of the chandelier candles, could be heard. It was a deafening silence that consumed them. No one wanting to speak up and risk and argument forming. Dinner ended quicker than it began and everyone excused themselves.

Tom and you sat by the fire in the living room while their kids closed themselves off for the night. Not giving another thought to their kids. Little did they know, Parker had a date that night. And after dinner ceased, planned his escape.

“Tommy, I think it’s about time we turn in,” you said.

“Y/N, I don’t know what we’re going to do.” Tom whispered with a somber voice.

“About what baby?”

“Parker. The threat. Everything,” Tom was beyond stressed at the moment.

“Shh, we’ll figure it out. We always do,” you said rubbing the back of Tom’s head and Tom nodded in response

“Now come on, why don’t I put your mind at ease,” you whispered seductively.

“Are you talking about some good lovin’?” Tom inquired moving his eyebrows up and down.

“You’re such a dork. I was, we’ll see now.”

“Aww don’t be like that, you’re such a tease.” “Oh you love it,” you said. “Yes, I do,” Tom shouted following you up the stairs.

“I think I’m going to take a shower, care to join me?” You exclaimed cheekily.

“Love, you don’t have ask me twice” Tom said. How could you be anymore perfect? The day ended even more perfectly.

After they showered, you both changed into wannabe pajamas, for you, a tank top and some shorts and Tom wore a pair of boxers. They were all set to watch a little TV and hop under the covers when tiredness overcame them, falling asleep in each others arms. Absolutely content with everything in your life, everyone in the family was safe, nothing had come of the note yet.

“I love you, darling,” Tom whispered pressing his lips to your hairline.

You were already fast asleep. How did he get, you, this amazing woman to fall in love with him? The night soon fell into pitch darkness, however Tom’s phone ringing, startling him out of his deep sleep.

“Hello?” Tom answered it with a groggy voice.

“Is this Mr. Holland, father of Parker Holland?” A woman on the other line spoke.

“Yes, this is. Who the fuck is this?” Tom said rather rudely just being woken up.

“Sir, I’m calling from Kingston Memorial Hospital. Your son has been involved in an accident.”

“Fuck, I’m on my way.” Tom muttered as he hung up

“Angel wake up, something is wrong with Parker,” Tom whispered, shaking you awake.

“Tommy, what? What’s wrong?” You muttered as you stirred awake.

“Just get dressed.” Tom said.

Driving like a madman and disregarding all traffic signals, they all eventually arrived at the hospital. Not giving anything else a second thought.

They all piled into the Rolls Royce. Tom drove, for the first time in a long time, always having someone drive him. You sat in the passenger seat, clutching Tom’s hand and hoping to god your baby boy was okay.

You hadn’t even bothered to wear proper clothes, you wore mix-matched shoes, shorts, a tank top and an overcoat to stay warm. Rosie was like her mother, only wearing a hoodie and pajama bottoms. Tom on the other hand was more put together, wearing a regular t-shirt and pants along with the same pair of shoes, unlike, you, his wife.

Barging through the sliding doors, Tom made his presence known.

“Parker Holland, where is he?” Tom screamed as he marched up to the receptionist.

“I’m sorry sir, hold on a moment,” the nurse clad in light blue scrubs said.

“NO! Fuck this. Parker Holland, tell me where the fuck he is before I blow your brains out.” Tom shouted and flashed his pistol.

“Alright Sir, just please put the gun away,” the nurse pleaded.

“He is in room 202,” she concluded.

“Thank you, come on Tommy,” you replied, pulling your husband away.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the moment you saw your baby boy lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

“I’m sorry, are you family?” asked the doctor as everyone funneled in the room.

“Yes, we are his parents,” Tom concluded

“I’m his sister,” Rosie spoke up, trying not to be forgotten.

“Good. Parker has a mild concussion, a few broken ribs, and he came in with a ruptured spleen which was taken care of during surgery. The anesthesia should be wearing off any moment now,” the doctor explained.

“Parker? Baby? It’s mommy. Please wake up,” you whispered to your son while petting his head, trying not cry at his busted lip and swollen eye.

“Mr. Holland? Sorry to disturb you but, the police would like to talk with you” a nurse informed Tom. Tom nodded with a blank expression, not letting his eyes stray away from his son.

“Follow me, sir,” the nurse concluded as she led him out of the room.

“Mom, is Parker going to be okay?” Rosie inquired. “I hope so” you responded with a hoarse voice from crying. Rosie wrapped her arms around you, comforting you,

You were so used to you being the one waking up in a hospital bed. At first, dating Tom and eventually marrying him, put a huge target on your back. Never experiencing the crippling fear of losing the one you love most.

Meanwhile, Tom was conversing with the cops who were on the scene. “Sir, your son was a victim to an assault that happened earlier at The Luxe, a nightclub downtown,” explained one of the cops. They stood tall, attempting to act macho but failing. The notorious mobster scared them. The stories, alone, spread on the street was enough to make a grown man soil his pants.

One of them was a man around age 45, looked like he had a pension and drove a hybrid car. Old but tried too hard to be young again. The other was a woman, rather young, possibly new to force. Both of them oblivious to man they were questioning. Unaware of Tom’s business and status. “What? I don’t understand.” Tom was puzzled, he knew his son snuck out, but to a nightclub, why? “It seemed like the moment it was made known that he was a Holland, they let him in,” interjected one of the officers. “Alright, anything else? If you don’t mind I would like to get back to my family.” Tom concluded, bothered by their pestering. “Your son wasn’t alone?” “What?” “There was another body found at the scene. A female about 16 years old, her ID labeled her as Charlotte Owens. She was shot in the abdomen and found dead at the scene,” the officer informed Tom. “Did your son know this woman?” asked the first officer, holding up her driver’s license. “Nope. Never heard of her. I’m sorry to hear about her, wrong place wrong time I guess.” Tom couldn’t tell them the truth, he only needed to protect his family right now and if that meant blatantly lying to the authorities it was worth it. “Your son really had no connection to Ms. Owens?” asked the second policeman.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Mr. Holland, when we found your son he was covered in blood, not his own.” “What… are you accusing my son of murder? I’ll have you know I can have both your jobs in an instant,” Tom yelled, astounded at such an accusation.

“Sir, are you threatening us?” said the cops growing defensive. “No. Just making you aware of the situation. Tell Captain Reid I, Tom Holland, says ‘I’ll call him tomorrow, if you guys can’t do your jobs and leave me and my family alone”” Tom knew what he was doing. You don’t get to be the most powerful man in London by not having the police Captain in your pocket.

“We’re sorry sir, it won’t happen again,” the cops said, realizing they might have just made a very powerful enemy.

“I should hope so, if you have anymore questions here’s my business card and I suggest you don’t bother me again,” Tom concluded.

“Yes, sir. Have good rest of your night,” they said but Tom ignored them as he made a call.

“Tom? Do you know what time it is?” Harrison answered after a few rings, probably consumed by deep sleep.

“Haz I’m at the hospital.” Tom spoke with a somber voice.

“What? What happened?” Haz said all panicky. “Parker snuck out and got beaten up. A hit had to be on him. He was with his girlfriend. She didn’t make it.” “Jesus Christ. I’m on my way. Is it Kingston Memorial?” Harrison inquired. “Yes, also bring Henry I have a feeling Parker is going to need some moral support.” “Alright, be there soon mate.”

Parker was coming out of his deep sleep. His body begged for it, desperately needing to heal. He took quite a beating.

“Woah, woah. Where am I?” Parker asked, confused by his surroundings.

“Honey you’re at the hospital, don’t move you’ll hurt yourself.” You exclaimed. Parker soon realized everything that had transpired that night.

“They killed her,” Parker whispered as his eyes went cold. Every moment flashing before his eyes. One minute she was dancing, full of life and the next lying his arms dead.

“What? Who, honey?” You asked just relieved that your son was awake. “Charlotte.” Tom said walking in as you burst into tears at the vocalization of Charlotte’s name.

“What? Parker you need to tell me what happened. I thought you were in your room,” you pestered, only concerned about her son’s well being.

“I snuck out and my girlfriend got killed. What more is there to tell?” Parker said raising his voice and showing off his beloved Tom’s temper.

“I’m sorry. Charlotte just wanted me to be there to celebrate her birthday. I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me she would still be alive,” Parker explained, tears slipping from his eyes.

“Shh baby, you can explain later. Just get some rest,” you concluded and Parker nodded in response.

“Mom, I’m gonna get some air,” Rosie said, wanting to be sick at the thought of Charlotte’s demise. She walked aimlessly around the hospital, making her way outside by the ambulance entrance.

Her breathing rapidly increased, she was hyperventilating. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she whispered to herself.

Collapsing against the wall, she sunk to the ground and brought her knees to her chest. Parker being the older sibling, knew more of the family business and tried to shield Rosie as much as possible. Not wanting to see her dad littered with blood after a hard day’s work.

“Rosie?” Henry asked with concern, seeing her sitting on the ground with tears streaming down her face.

“Hey, hey, hey. I got you. You’re okay. I got you.” Henry whispered bringing her into his embrace.

“Henry. I’m so glad you’re here.” She said, not letting go.

“Roo, you gotta tell me what happened? My dad wouldn’t say anything.”

“Parker got hurt when he snuck into a nightclub with Charlotte and she—“ Rosie bawled, her voice cracking and not finishing the sentence.

“It’s gonna be okay. Parker is okay right?” Henry asked and Rosie nodded in response. “Charlotte though, she…” Rosie having trouble finding the words. She knew the words but, the moment she said them they became 10 times more real. “Come on, Rosie, spit it out.” Henry said, trying not to alarm her. “She’s dead. She’s dead and I was awful to her.” Rosie stammered. “Oh my god. How?” Henry gasped, trying to wrap his head around the news. “She was shot. I know it’s not my fault but I can’t shake the feeling that I had something to do with it.” “Rosie you can’t think like that. It was an accident,” Henry whispered, comforting the trembling girl beside him. “Hey come here, I got you Roo. You’re safe with me.” Henry whispered pressing a kiss to Rosie’s forehead. She was actually starting to grow fond of the nickname, only when it was Henry who said it.

“I know this is a bad time, but I have to tell you something,” Henry whispered, trying to find the guts to tell this amazingly perfect girl the truth. “Yeah,” Rosie responded, eager for his response. “Rosie, I…” Henry tried to say but was soon interrupted with Rosie’s lips on hers. The kiss was soft yet full of passionate. Their lips melded together like two puzzle pieces. Both their eyes fluttered shut as euphoria consumed them, finally breaking away to breathe.

“I like you a lot, I have for awhile,” Rosie said, shying away from his face.

“Rosie, I really like you too,” he whispered, bringing his hand to caress her cheek.

“Really?” Rosie asked dumbfounded. “Yeah, what’s not to love,” he said and brought her into another chaste kiss. This time lingering longer as his lips brushed against hers. This was everything they both desired.

In the Parker’s hospital room, Tom and Harrison were conversing. Stuff was happening right under Tom’s nose at the estate and he was fed up with it.

“Who do you think it could be?” Haz asked, trying to get to the bottom of this before it blows up. “God knows who, I have countless enemies. Barnes, Roberts, most likely Carson,” Tom said, trying not to alarm, you, his sleeping wife or son. “Alright, I’ll inform the others to be on high alert,” Haz concluded. “We will have a meeting first thing tomorrow morning, I want everyone there.” “Yes, sir.”

“Enough Haz, you don’t need to be formal” Tom chuckled. “I know it just makes you laugh sometimes and you need that right now,” Harrison said, being the comic relief in times of crisis.

“Dad?” Parker whispered, coming out of his deep sleep.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Tom exclaimed. “It’s fine. Can I ask you something” Parker inquired.

“Mmmhm,” Tom acknowledged. “How’d you deal with all those times almost losing mum?” Parker inquired.

“I won’t lie to you, I was a wreck” Tom explained. Seeing his son like this, brought Tom back to the time you were kidnapped and tortured. You two had only been going out for a year at the time and it was a huge turning point in your relationship.

At the time, Tom was in the middle of a turf war with James Graham, another mobster who predated Tom. You and Tom had just moved into together. Everything was smooth sailing up until that point. It was the night of your anniversary, going to the restaurant you went on your first date. You were dressed in a red, Tom’s favorite color not much of a surprise there, satin dress which hugged your figure perfectly. You had made your way to “Casa Nostra,” the little Italian restaurant that was very dear to your heart.

You sat down at your usual table with your usual drink, a gin and tonic, and fell in love with the ambience. Once in a while glancing at your watch, Tom was late. It was puzzling because Tom was everything and of those things was punctual. Tom was currently, stuck at the “office,” swamped with paper work.

“Vincent can you call Y/N? Tell her I’m sorry for being late and I’ll be there in 30 mins,” Tom asked one of his men. “Yes of course boss,” Vincent concluded as the phone suddenly rang.

“Oh, what’d you know, its her right here,” “Thanks Vincent, I got it from here,” Tom said grabbing the phone and dismissing him out of his office.

“I’m so sorry love. I’ll be there in 30 mins tops. Order what every you want to start with, may a suggest a bottle of Dom Pérignon. I promise I’ll be there. I love you,” Tom exclaimed hoping you would understand.

Who was he kidding of course you would understand. You were always so kind and considerate of everyone else’s feelings, he knew you wouldn’t be mad.

“Oh, no worries. I’m fine, just enjoying a few drinks. See you when you get here. I love you too. Remember don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you replied.

Drinking gin and tonic one after the another to pass the time, you had gotten up to make a phone call. 10 mins had past since you entered the establishment and your driver had dropped you off and stayed in the parked car. You made your way to the bathroom. Coming out of the stall having finished and washed your hands. In the reflection of the mirror, stood a tall figure one who looked like he could break your neck with one snap.

A gasp exited your lips as the assailant lunged toward you. Launching towards the bathroom walls, banging you head against the wall and the tile once your body hit the floor. All you heard were muffled screams you assumed belonged to the other patrons of the restaurants. Followed by several gunshots before you fell into complete and utter darkness.

You woke up to mind-numbing pain and throbbing pain to your head, your wrists fasten to a metal chair and wet, thick liquid dripping down the side of your face.

“Glad to see you are awake. Could I get you anything, water maybe?” Graham inquired tauntingly. “Fuck you, Graham. What the fuck am I doing here?” You yelled as you tried to escape your restraints.

James Graham had been a rival of the Hollands for decades. Always craving more power than there was to go around. The Holland’s enjoyed their freedom at the top of the food chain.

They were and are the most dangerous predator out there. When one of the less powerful predators gets a taste for blood, they won’t stop til they have decimated the rest of the population.

“Wow, who knew such a pretty girl like you would have such a mouth on her,” he quipped.

“Tom’s gonna come for me and when he does he will show no mercy,” you said, your voice tainted with hope.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he chuckled. “Why me? Why didn’t you just go after him yourself?” “I suggest you shut your fucking trap before I put a bullet through your skull,” He barked, slapping you straight across the face. Leaving a small imprint of his hand. Right before, he yanked your hair back, entangling all your strands in his fingers. All the pain caused tears to fall.

“I guess that seemed to shut you up. Better hope, your man hurries or he is going have to carry your decaying body out of this hell hole,” Graham taunted. “Why are you doing this?” you asked. “Your corpse would make Tom shatter. To get to him, I have kill you. You are his weakness. It will be the end of him, the end of Tom Holland,” he spoke with a tight grip on your jaw, leaving tiny bruises.

“Well, better get started cause one way or another you’ll be dead by sunrise.” He said, delivering a swift punch to your stomach. One after the other.

“I’ve had my fun. Boys, do you want to get a few licks in?” “It would be my pleasure, boss,” his men snickered as they made their way over to you. Alternating who punched and when. “Have your fun, but no guns. Tom needs to see the pain she felt. I’ll be upstairs.” Graham explained while leaving you alone with his men.

Meanwhile, Tom was finally free of work and on his way to enjoy a lovely night with you. A year spent together was really testament. He already felt so guilty for ditching you for 30 mins, he had some ideas of how he would make it up to you.

He arrived to a massacre at the restaurant. Not a single soul was found alive anywhere, they had all been shot. Searching for you, along with the other casualties, you were nowhere to be found.

Only explanation, you were taken by Graham. The lack of gravitas when it came to killing led to one person, James Graham. You were the only thing on his mind right now and Graham was behind it all. He quickly pulled his phone out and dialed the last person he wanted to see tonight.

“Oh Tom, what do I owe this pleasure?” Graham said cheekily. “Where the fuck is she, Graham?” Tom barked, not fucking around. “Sorry Tommy, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Who?”

“Graham, I swear to fucking god if you hurt a hair on her head there will be hell to pay,” Tom gritted his teeth.

“It’s a little late for that.” Graham stated. “TOM!” You screamed in the background. “Let me talk to her,” Tom pleaded. “Alright, I’m not a monster. Hope she has some good last words for you now.” “It’s for you,” Graham said, holding the phone to your ear. “Y/N? Are you okay? Where are you?” Tom said with concern. He blamed himself for you being in this position. Sure, you had come from a mob family but, nothing like this happened. It was because of him. He was in love you, which made you his biggest weakness.

“I’m fine, don’t listen to him, I’m sorry we didn’t get our second date,” you said, trying to put Tom’s mind at ease. “You mean anniversary date. Oh… Baby, I’m going to find you. Trust me” “I do, I love—“ the conversation soon ended when Graham pulled the phone away and pummeled into your cheekbone, causing red to seep out. Only winces from pain and quiet sobs were heard on the other line.

“Aww, did you say your fucking marriage vows or shit? Too bad you’ll never see her in a wedding dress,” Graham snickered. “Graham, I’m coming for you and for your sake, I suggest you fucking run like the pussy you are,” Tom threatened as he hung up. He knew where you were thank to you subtle hint and he desperately needed backup. How could he go in there guns blazing when it’s just him.

“Haz, Y/N has been taken. Gather all the men I know where she is,” Tom said into the phone. “What? Where is she?” Haz inquired “She’s at the marina, our second date.”

Tom drove to where your second date was, the marina. He needed to know you were okay, the phone call didn’t give him much to go on. Haz and the other men soon arrived all in black SUVs.

“She’s in there. On my count. 1, 2, 3!” Haz said, instructing the soldiers. Tom let Haz take the lead on this one so he could focus on you.

Busting through the doors, guns went off a split second later. Flooring most of Graham’s men. Tom and Haz found you looking half dead strapped to a chair in the middle of the room.

“Love we have to get you out of here” Tom said, trying to run up to you until he was stopped by sound of a gun cocking against your head. Tears slipped as your came face to head with the barrel of a gun.

“Come any closer and she’s dead. Now drop the gun,” Graham shouted.

“Do you think I’m playing around. DROP IT!!!” Tom slowly put his gun on the ground, trying to stall enough for Harrison to be behind him.

“Duck!” Tom yelled, hitting the deck as Haz fired 3 shots. Striking Graham right between the eyes, and the chest twice. A thud soon followed and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Tom rushed over to you, cutting off your restraints.

“Y/N. Oh darling, I’m so sorry,” Tom cried.

“It’s ok, you got me now, that’s all that matters,” you said growing more weak in his arms “We gotta get you to a hospital come on,” he said, wrapping his arm around you shoulder as he walked.

This was the first time Tom had brought you to the hospital. Who knew it would be the first of many instances. He hated hospitals, all the sickness that lingered in the air.

You had been in surgery for an hour, the doctors were in the process of fixing your internal bleeding. All those punches, ruptured one of your kidneys. Now you were resting in your hospital bed with Tom attached to your side, refusing to let go of your hand.

Tom had been a wreck, sure it was only two hours but the most dreadful two hours of his life. He knew you would be okay, but all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms.

“Hi Tommy,” you whispered, beginning to wake. “God you scared the fucking hell out of me, please don’t ever scare me like that again. I need to know you are okay,” Tom exclaimed. “I’m okay, I promise.” “Yes and you will be from now on…. Tomorrow Jared, my driver, will help you gather your stuff from the house. I’ll have someone else take care of the furniture. Do you have a place to stay?” Tom explained.

“What? Why are you doing this?” you said, confusingly.

“I love you Y/N, this is the only way I can guarantee your safety.” “Tom, don’t push me away.”

“None of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for me. You wouldn’t be lying here half fucking dead. You should just forget about me,” Tom pleaded. “Hey, look at me. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not,” you said, standing your ground. “Y/N, I’m damaged goods. This your chance, go live the your life without getting blood on your hands.”

“Tom, I think you forget that I already have blood on my hands. There is nothing you can say or do that would ever make me leave you.”

Tom knew in the moment, you were his and one day he might regret your words. Thank god you stuck around or he wouldn’t have the family he has today. You and Tom even still make it a priority to spend your anniversary at Casa Nostra.

Parker needed reassurance, just like Tom did when he asked you to leave him, after your kidnapping. Tom never wanted himself to be the reason for your demise. He could never forgive himself.

“Dad, I just don’t know how to move on from this. It hurts so bad,” Parker pleaded.

“She’s dead because of me. All I want to do is hold her. She didn’t deserve any of this,” Parker cried. “I know, it wasn’t your fault though,” Tom reassured.

“How is it not? The men specifically asked for me, I’m the reason she is dead!” Parker exclaimed.

“How do I make the pain go away?” he said, desperate for a quick remedy. “It will eventually, you just need time,” Tom explained to his devastated son. “No, what I need is revenge,” Parker said forcing a shocked expression upon Tom’s face.

“I’ll do it, dad” Parker concluded with a new found confidence.

“Do what, P?” Tom inquired.

“I’ll be the next you, be the next Holland that strikes fear.”

“I’m in, teach me to be the best fucking mobster this world has every seen.” These were the words Tom was wishing his son would’ve said a week ago, but there’s no time like the present. “It would be my pleasure. I always knew you had it in you,” Tom said rather excitedly.

“This is the only way I can avenge Charlotte. They won’t know what hit them.” Something in Parker changed. A switch had flipped in his brain. The innocent boy was now a shell of person, demanding revenge. He was out for blood.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

Author note: Feel free to be asked to be added to the taglist if you want :)

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom #dad!mob!tom holland #mob!tom x reader

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death---dealer · 4 years ago

Note

*chanting* ms em give us your first kiss interpretation with the 10th doctor

You know what this would have been fine if i wanted to write fics when i first watched doctor who but no now i gotta do it like 15 years LATER. Reblogs and likes are totally appreciated, as is feedback! Thanks guys.

Title: Diamonds in the Sky. Pairing: Reader x 10th Doctor. Fandom: Doctor Who. Words: ~ 2.5 K. Summary: What does a first experience feel like for a man who’s lived so many lives and has seen so many firsts? Rating: K. ( Super fluffy, some angst lol so be ready. )

Tagging: @ok-anon

You could see him through the semi-transparent middle of the TARDIS. Through the churning of the engine, through the time that was bent around you, through the space that was almost smothering. Though the box was bigger on the inside, at times for you, it felt as if you were crammed chest to chest with him, unable to breathe, excitement running through your veins at the idea of what your next adventure with the Doctor would be. Admittedly, you had gotten quite accustomed to the lifestyle. To the sounds coming out of his mouth as he swirled around the console, mumbling incoherence in a fashion that was purely Time Lord. From the way that his trench coat fluttered behind him as he pulled a lever, feeling in his bones the very movements of the TARDIS, the way that his fingers lingered for a second too long out of instinct before he tapped away to do something on the other side of the console, now right before your eyes with his back towards you. The Doctor’s face was easy to imagine. Eyebrows pressed together in complete focus, lips split apart, tongue occasionally coming out in some sort of brilliance as he said something directed in your direction.

“Where do you feel like? Bitter freezing world, mounds of snow and giant snow castles or perhaps a bit more sunny--- A bit more like an actual holiday with the family-- Like---”

“Florida?” You suggested with a laugh, finally tugging yourself out of a strange linear space that you were placed into more and more often whenever you found yourself admiring him. You stood up and glanced upwards at him. The Doctor found himself stopping in his tracks looking at you though the pause in his actions was hardly noticeable to anyone but himself. The way you looked at him at times, like right now, with innocence swirling rampant between the two of you, uncovered emotions not willing to be said, he felt like melting on the spot. He popped his mouth and turned away from you for a second, swallowing what he wanted like he so often did and collected focus.

You saw his shoulders slump forward almost comically, his lips pursing together as your joke sunk into his mind before he twirled around quickly, nearly enough to send you flying back into your seat once again like the TARDIS did when first shifting into flight. The smile was still plastered on your face as he pointed at you, flipping one more shift on the console. She almost purred at being touched by him, not that you could blame the machine. From the way he finessed the TARDIS, it wasn’t an unexpected reaction. You were sure if you were in its place, you’d give an even more exaggerated reaction.

“What’s so wrong with Florida? Y’know, for a human place, it is quite nice. That got that family oriented spot, with the mouse and the duck... What’s it called?”

“Disney World?” You offered, holding one of your hands out metaphorically.

Snapping his fingers, he almost danced towards you, the Converse on his feet clanking against the metallic flooring. Excitedly, he grabbed your shoulder with one hand, the other gripping around your open hand and for a split moment, you thought he was going to pick you up and twirl you. But the simple grazing against your shirt clad arms was enough for you as you tossed your head back in laughter at his happiness. Had your eyes been open as you laughed, you’d have been face to face with the look he gave you. Melting again… Soft brown eyes melting as he stared at the subtle lines on your face as you grinned, grabbing hold of his hands on your body, leaning towards him to keep him near.

“Yes! That’s the place. Disney!” The two of you were so near one another, it was a natural reaction to smile at the feeling of his rapid breath against your face. A smile different than the one plastered on your face before. This one was soft and sweet, reserved specifically for the moments you knew the Doctor wasn’t paying attention to your expression but you longed for him to just so he could know how you were feeling towards him. But alas, it wasn’t meant to be as he let go of you to walk around the TARDIS, opting to lean against the wall, “You do know that man froze himself years ago, his body is kept under lock in key, some weird base on Earth. Weird, humans and wanting to live for years beyond needed.” He paused, looking down at his own hand in thought. “Trust me, living more than what was intended is a bitter sign indeed. No one's meant to live forever, if they were, imagine the turmoil you’d lot’o’humans would put yourselves in. Pokin’ your heads into all sorts of cans. ”

The Doctor clicked his tongue and you were nearly mesmerized watching that action as he slid the appendage across his sharp teeth before turning towards the main console of the TARDIS. That was the end of that side of the conversation, but the longing in his voice put it on hold for now. Another pin in a topic that was skimmed upon every once and a while that left you longing to touch him in reassurance. Just to touch him, not physically but maybe emotionally to calm down the raging storm that seemed to be brewing beneath his skin. There was a reason why the Daleks called him what they did. The Oncoming storm. But what if the storm had been there for years? Just simmering? Lonely, afraid, growing into something uncontainable? There was something there that you feared but it was often forgotten when he’d hold your hand running down a street, when he’d press his pointer finger to your lips to hush you in the excitement of a moment… Your fingers twitched. There it was! The feeling of shifting with him, never quite knowing where you were going to land, and even if you did have a slight idea of where you were going to vacation next, it was short lived as history liked to follow where you tread. The TARDIS made her whirl of sounds, but not the clunk that came along with landing.

“Where are we going?” The question hung in the air for a few seconds longer than the Doctor intended just to see if the familiar sound of landing was just delayed or---

“We haven’t landed,” He murmured, whether to himself or to you as he reached for the screen to look out. “Still sort of just driftin’.” His brows furrowed once again as he plucked his glasses out of the chest pocket of his pin-stripe suit with some sort of strange elegance that you found almost entrancing. “In space.”

“Well, we are in a spaceship-”

Your comment was put on pause as the doors of the TARDIS swung open, the Doctor freely popping his head out to see where. The screen was helpful but right now, his eyes needed to see what was going on. He was quick- you hadn’t even noticed him running towards the door until you felt the brush of air against your bare arms which yearned you towards the Universe that was just a step outside the door. He plopped himself down, sitting on the edge of his ship with his long legs dangling carelessly out into space. You could see the pout on his face without even looking straight at his face, the tilt of his head sparking curiosity within your own mind as you waltzed towards him and sat down behind him, gazing over his shoulder as your head rested in the crook of his neck. “Tell me Doctor, where’ve we ended up this time?”

That was merely a whisper in his ear as he took his glasses off, pressing part of the frames against his lips. “Seems to be a dead star,” you hummed in response to that, “But at this stage in its life, this type of star…. Becomes so compressed that it essentially becomes a diamond.” He turned towards you, faces centimetres apart now. “No idea why we’ve stopped here.”

“No complaints from me,” You admitted, glancing at the colors. There was mainly blues and purples, swirling in a dust of clouds around a dense object that you had deduced was the diamond the doctor had mentioned. Or at one time in its life, it was a star. You found it easy to imagine, having spent so much time with the man you were travelling with. Your imagination wandered farther than it ever had before. “It’s beautiful.”

“To think that something so miraculous becomes even more amazing after death---” He started speaking and turned his attention to what was happening outside. “Fantastic. Even after all this time, the Universe still finds a way of surprising me in unexpected ways.”

Settling down next to him, you crossed your legs and lightly leaned against him. “Imagine how I feel.”

The Doctor smiled softly at that and chuckled. He liked to do that on his own time- imagining how you must have felt, how your train of thought trailed… But now, unexpectedly, he was thinking about it and he answered truthfully, “I don’t think I can--- it’s been much too long for me to remember how first moments felt, they’re dim in my mind now, many things are forgotten over the hundreds of years and I often don’t feel it until the moment happen again. What I imagine it feeling like for you is…” His hand rested upon yours in your lap as if he were empathetically reaching out to you, something common that you had seen him do a handful of times. “Pure happiness- maybe fear and nerves at times, like now---” He swallowed and smacked his lips dismissively, trying to ignore the fluttering he so viciously felt within his own hearts syncing with yours, “It’s fleeting for me now, I’ve been alive for so long, (Name). Now imagine how I feel.”

You knew how he felt--- you could almost absorb what he was experiencing, his hand now grasping yours a bit tighter than before, like his emotions were sinking so deeply into your fingertips. He was laying bare to you--- a strange sensation. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath in. What you felt was--- Was… “I know.” You whispered to him, “You needn’t worry about being alone anymore, Doctor.”

“It’s inevitable,” He replied back to you, a bitter tone behind his usually chipper voice. “There will come a time, (Name), when you’ll get old and I won’t… Even having you now, I feel so alone because I know what is happening. What will happen. There’s so many things I can stop, but this...” There was a vague gesture between the two of you that he made with his free hand.

Things got quiet between the two of you quickly. The only sound that was apparent was coming from the TARDIS and yet it seemed to deafen you. The sleepless space that was staring at you, the warmth of his hand still clinging to yours desperately. Hold me, it said, forever. It was wishful thinking on the Doctor’s side, this was something he was also consciously aware of. Forever would always happen for him but it was never meant to be between the two of you. Drawing your attention from the scenes of the galaxy in front of you, you let your eyes fall on him beside you. Shadows played on his sunken cheeks, against his face giving the illusion that he was in some sort of strange blue firelight. He was handsome and with his hand still on yours, you knew that what you were feeling was evident in his own mind. That your ambitions in the moment were coinciding with his.

“There is---”

“A first you’d like to have?” He murmured quietly, squeezing your hand before letting it go.

“With you.” To say that the voice you used was reassuring would be an understatement. You were soft spoken in the moment, reaching with the hand he had been holding so tightly to cup the side of his face. Instantaneously, a rush of emotion ran into you. Not all were yours, not all were his. Some were entwined in some strange dance that could only assimilate upon being your thoughts, together, as one.

“With you.” He repeated your statement, letting his hand come up to grasp the side of your face to mimic your own actions. With hooded eyes, the Doctor gazed down at you, letting it flutter between your eyes and your lips. He’d been close to you like this before, in fact, being this near felt good to him, it felt close to ecstasy to know that after what he had done with his own hands, with his own thoughts, that someone would still want him the way that you did right now. “Right now, seems like a good time---”

You were the one to hush him this time around as you closed that small gap between the two of you. It was a barely there sort of touch at first, lips holding in an awkward dance before the Doctor pulled away with hard pressed together lips and an even harder swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing with that action. That’s all it was, just a peck but he was left feeling this sort of churning in his stomach. He wanted to do it again, and looking at you through a flush of eyelashes, he could tell that you wanted the same thing. And so, the gap disappeared once again as he took initiative and allowed his mouth to form against yours properly, your hand reaching to tangle in the hair and the back of his head while he held the side of your face, still swallowing in large sumps the emotions that were tangled in your mind. Everything you were feeling, have felt about him were strewn on the table like a deck of cards at a Poker table. And in return, you received the same thing. It felt like a burning in your throat as if you had just guzzled down an entire shot of whiskey.

“Right then.” The brown haired Time Lord muttered against your lips and continued to caress your face with a gentle graze. “Florida it is…”

#doctor who #10th doctor #david tennant #10th doctor x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #emmy writes

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