#but at this point: put your money where your mouth is jimmy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beigehearts · 3 years

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Multiple requests are fine! Requests are unlimited.

This is a cool idea so hell yeah

Yandere Adult Trio finding you after a few years after escape CW: physical abuse, mentions of kidnapping, blood, needles

Hisoka

This is rather nice actually. A quiet life in the middle of nowhere where no one questions you. It’s somewhat of a farming community you live in. You work at a farmers market, selling fresh fruits and vegetables to the same people every day. Everyone here recognizes you under your fake identity, and treats you as part of the community. As if you didn’t randomly appear one day. As if you aren’t in hiding.

It’s been about three years you would say. Three years since you escaped... him. You dyed your hair, wore colored contacts and completely changed your clothing look. You moved countries, learned a new language, and completely dropped your entire identity and life. It was the only way you could escape him. How you escaped him remains a mystery to you too. He was always attentive but- you escaped that last time. Slipped through his fingers.

Mr. Grady, the oldest farmer in town hobbles over to your stand and smiles with his big loose mouth. He only has a few teeth but you don’t need many when you blend all of your food anyway.

“Oh hello Charlie. How are you today?” He asks with his frail old man voice.

You smile back and begin bagging up the usual for him. “Very good Mr. Grady. How are you?”

Your conversations are never short but it’s almost become a highlight of your day to hear the old man ramble. “Oh you know. The sheep dog are sick, so I tried rounding those cows up with my cat. He practically got trampled!” He throws his arms up as if it’s unbelievable. You somewhat listen as he continues. “... moral of the story is, cats are unreliable and only have two lives.”

As you hand the paper bag over the counter the old man stops to think for a moment. “I saw someone new up by the shops today, he was a real character. Quite tall too.”

You nod and get the change for the money he hands you, “Oh really? Did you talk to him?”

“He wasn’t much interested in me. Though he didn’t seem like a normal traveler. He was much too eccentric for that.” He offers one last toothless smile, “Don’t work too late. It’s time for the foxbears to come out of hibernation soon.”

Before you can further question him, he hobbles off pretty quickly for an old man. Of course you’re overreacting but someone eccentric and tall randomly coming to town? No it couldn’t be. It’s been over three years since then. And he wouldn’t go this far for you would he?

After closing up the shop you grab the keys to your car and head for the ‘parking lot’. It’s a field with white lines spray painted on the grass with a single light to illuminate the whole place. You hop into your car and are just glad to finally go home after a long day. It was rather slow but that’s because it was a tuesday. It is very busy on friday-monday. You start your car, and turn on the air, you plug your phone in and relax some into your seat.

You adjust your rear view mirror and scream when you do. You just barely catch the reflection of someone in the back of your car. He’s sitting in the back seat watching you closely. You decide against turning around to face him.

“Hello y/n. Or is it Charlie?” He asks calmly, as if it were a casual conversation.

You clear your throat and try to control your shaking. “What are you doing here Hisoka?”

He ignores your question completely. “You really know how to choose a nice town. Quiet, friendly, off the grid.”

“I suppose.” Your hands grip on the steering wheel tightens. “How did you find me?”

“Oh, well, it was quite hard really. You did a good job. But once I found the first person who helped you change your identity, it was just a matter of going down the chain.”

You’d rather not think about what happened to those people. “And what are you doing here?” You repeat your question.

“Well there’s only one thing I’m here for of course.” He leans back in the seat, just barely having enough room for his legs. “I’ve come to bring you home.”

“I don’t want to. It’s nice here.” You state as if you have an option.

He leans forward this time, and cranes his head around the drivers seat to whisper in your ear, “It’s really not up to you pet.”

Before you can even react, there’s a rope around your neck, and he’s pulling you hard against your seat. You claw at the rope and gasp for air. You try to turn some but the rope burn hurts too much. You manage to get your fingers under the rope around your neck, and throw yourself forward.

His head smacks the back of your seat but your head smacks the wheel, honking the horn. There’s no doubt that you’re bleeding. You throw the rope over your head and jump out of the car, and run. But he’s much faster.

He jumps out of the car and before you know it, he grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you to him. He holds you against himself with his arms, leaving no room for escape. But you have one more trick up your sleeve. You throw your head back as hard you can and headbutt his face. There’s a loud crack that you can only assume is his nose.

He groans and his nails dig into your skin through your clothes. “You really got feisty while I was away.” His nails begin to pierce your skin, ripping through the cloth of your shirt. “But it’s no matter, it only turns me on more.”

Illumi

To say you’re on the run is an understatement. You’re practically sprinting away even all these years later. You know that if you stop for even a few days that he would find you. You spend no more than three days at a time in the same place. You’ve travelled half of the world by now- and quite honestly it has been somewhat nice. Not just the freedom from the suffocating grasp of your captor Illumi, but being able to see the world. You would never have done this if not for the situation you were in. Maybe things happen for a reason.

It feels like forever since you’ve been travelling. But the reality is that it’s only been two years. Two long years of not stopping. You have a new name and often go days without eating. It’s not easy getting money when you aren’t in the same area for long.

It was late night when you escaped from him. He never let his guard down so you just had to go for it. He wasn’t expecting you to make a mad dash out of the manor, and hide out in the woods for a few days. Slowly but surely you managed to get out of the mountain prison, leaving through the small door next to the office. The man working at the entrance was sipping tea and reading the newspaper when you left much too busy to pay attention to you. You’re more than sure he was punished for missing you leaving. But sometimes you wonder if he chose to ignore you on purpose, and let you escape.

It’s a beautiful morning. You slept on a few blankets and a sweatshirt as a pillow on the ground of a cave. It was hard to get any sleep at first but you managed to get used to the back pain. The sun is shining through the canopy, streams of light illuminating the cave. The grass outside of the cave is wet with dew droplets. It’s only slightly humid but the breeze with the warm weather is heavenly. It’s not every day you get good weather like this.

You sit up and stretch your arms in the air, yawning tiredly. Your usual morning routine was to get a fire started, and put the tiny kettle above it. In your small backpack you have a few essential items. Coffee being one of them. You get out your tin can after jimmying a fire and filling the kettle with water from a nearby stream. You drop some instant coffee grounds in the kettle and bask in the aroma of coffee.

You pour yourself a cup and put some powdered milk packets and splenda in the cup, stirring it with a stick that looked relatively... clean. But you had a feeling that today was the day. You weren’t sure why this morning you knew he would find you. But you did. Almost on cue, you hear footsteps approach behind you.

You bring the tin cup to your lips, taking a long sip of the hot coffee.

“So this is where you’ve been.” You don’t even flinch at his words. You knew this was inevitable.

The coffee burns your tongue. “Yes, I must have stayed here for a day too long. Don’t you agree Illumi?”

“Yes. It was quite stupid.” There’s a silence between the two of you. You continue sitting on the ground with your back facing him. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks as if he’s picking you up from and elementary sleep over.

“May I finish my coffee first?”

“I suppose.” Though he doesn’t move from his spot, his gaze staying firm on your back.

Luckily you haven’t spent all this time just running, but training. In self defense to be specific.

Quickly you jump up and turn around, you move your arm to throw the coffee on him in hopes of burning him. He grabs your wrist, but the coffee does land on his forearm. You bring your leg up to kick him in the side but he grabs it right as you make contact. The only hit you actually manage to land is when you throw a punch with your free hand at his throat. If it were anyone else they would be stunned for at least a few seconds. But this wasn’t anyone. He shows no sign of flinching.

“Are you ready now?” He asks.

You allow your body to relax and he lets go of your limbs. “Go ahead, put a needle in me.”

He doesn’t argue with your point, pressing a needle to your chest and the last thing you hear is “Don’t fight it.”

Chrollo

The very thought that all of these people by his side had no qualms about you being kidnapped makes you sick. All of them had many chances to set you free and yet they stayed loyal to your captor, as if this were normal and okay. So many people witnessing this unhealthy obsession and not even muttering a word about it. Honestly you find it more ridiculous than you do sad. How did he have all these people under his thumb? Was he really just that powerful?

Wherever he went, you went. One day he had what they called, ‘a mission.” You had caught a cargo train out west and jumped on, as stowaways. It’s not as if anyone checked each boxcar. All of you had fallen asleep in the small space of the boxcar. The train was at full speed, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. Cargo trains were much faster than you anticipated. Once you were sure everyone was asleep, you stood up casually as if you were just stretching. In case someone woke up. Which they did. Nobunaga peeled his eyes open and examined you. But he was too slow, you leaped out of the car before anyone could grab you. You went tumbling through a field after hitting your head very hard against the ground. It wasn’t the perfect escape but it was an escape.

After that you found a nearby farm, and while it was still night you stole a horse from a barn. You rode for many miles, until days later you found a very busy city. Somehow you managed to make a life for yourself, becoming a low grade secretary.

Today was a slow day, your employer did not have many clients today. You checked in on your boss to see if she needed anything but she waved you away. You decided to play solitaire on the computer, a perfectly valid way to waste time.

The phone rings and you pick it up while still keeping one hand on the mouse to play solitaire.

“Hello this is the Seedling Lawyer’s Office. How may I help you?” You stick the phone between your ear and shoulder, playing solitaire.

There’s a chuckle from the other side of the phone. “So it is you.”

Your blood runs cold, and the only thing that your head is telling you is ‘run’. “I’m not sure who this is, could you please state your name and purpose for calling?” Playing dumb seems like the only decision right now.

“My darling, there’s no need for the semantics. I’m coming to pick you up right now.” Perfectly on cue, the sliding doors of the building open and you drop the phone, standing up abruptly.

His eyes show affection and kindness, but there’s a glimmer of... rage. You look around but no one is in the waiting room and you know the cameras are fake for security. This is a cheap layer’s business after all.

“There’s no need for the semantics Chrollo.” You try to say mockingly but it comes out more as fearful and unsure.

His smile drops and he begins walking towards your desk. “Do you understand the consequences of your actions y/n?” He scoffs kicks the heavy desk to the side as if it weighed nothing. “I missed you of course.”

“Ah well, maybe I needed a break.” It comes out as a question.

He corners you against the wall and places a rough hand on your cheek. “Oh darling, oh my sweet darling.” His smile reappears, as sweet as it always has been. “I’m going to kill your entire family.” His hand grips the side of your face roughly and he tilts your head back.

“You really are something. I would never hurt you, you know.” He places a gentle kiss against your cheek despite his tight grip on the side of your head. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for what you’ve done.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and grab his wrist. “Well you’re hurting me right now.”

Immediately he drops his hand and sighs. “I would never hurt you intentionally, or if not necessary.” He grabs your throat, holding it so tightly you wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk again. He’s crushing your air ways and vocal cords. You claw at his wrist but its useless. “Disciplining you does not count as hurting you.” He leans forward, and if you could yelp you would.

He bites your cheek, definitely leaving a mark. After drawing blood, he licks it up. Your vision is going dark but you’re simply not strong enough to fight back. “Do you understand darling?”

#hisoka #hisoka morrow #hisoka x reader #yandere hisoka #illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #yandere illumi #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #phantom troupe #hxh #hunter x hunter #adult trio #adult trio x reader #yandere adult trio #yandere

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gingeraleluke · 3 years

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𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: tom holland x fem!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: your boyfriend got home just in time to watch his most recent interview on tv with you.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: swearing, nothing just fluff! :)

𝗔/𝗡: this is my first time writing for tom so i hope you guys like it!! <3

this is based on the spider-man: far from home interview with jimmy kimmel!

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

the young girls heart was silent for the first nineteen years of her life. nothing but a faint heartbeat and some clouded thoughts of little to nothing inconsistencies. from the moment she first opened her eyes as a baby, separating her fingers and spreading her toes while her newly polished eyes tried making sense of her surroundings, to the ripe summer when her mother insisted she become a camp counselor to succumb enough money to buy her very own long-overdue car. the girl felt nothing.

the teens she longed to be alike were a mere hourglass, y/n a shadow. portraying their success and growth without mirroring any of her own, she felt like a weak duckling surrounded by marvelous swans. she would spend her youth watching blondes fall for brunettes on television, plopping popcorn into her mouth while pressing rewind on her favorite romantics, watching the way they would look at eachother and move with one another. she never thought she could be able to experience that. everything inside her was too quiet, too plain.

and then she met tom. it became loud, too loud, and she loved it. everything she thought she could never achieve, she achieved with him. her colorless days no longer existed and she fell deeper and deeper in love with him everyday.

switching the tv from some medical soap opera, y/n sat on her couch. she wore nothing but a plain bra and a pair of baby blue satin shorts. normally, she’d cover up more, especially if she had company over, but tom was a different kind of company and a comfortable one at that.

“THOMAS HURRY UP!” she could hear her boyfriend yell a faint, “i’m coming,” through the noise of the water running. shortly after, the shower stopped as y/n scrolled mindlessly through her phone, impatient.

she expected to see her boyfriend walk out of the bathroom, a trail of steam behind him, but instead she heard the loud roar of a hairdryer.

“for fucks sake-“ her mouth was lacking the salty and buttery flavor she craved so she took the opportunity to use her time by putting some popcorn in the microwave while her boyfriend blowed out his hair.

as she watched the minutes on the timer go down, the machine dinged as she grabbed a bowl and poured the snack inside it. she made her way back to the bench sofa and extended her legs out on the grey island cushions. the lace on the trim of her shorts tickled her feet as she folded her legs. “TOM HURRY THE FUCK UP, ITS ALMOST STARTING!”

the girls mouth was full as she yelled, losing patience with the boy. “IM SORRY, IM COMING!”

minutes later, a shirtless tom holland, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, appeared in their shared living room. the girls eyes grew big, his doing the same as he took in her taboo and exposed form.

“what- tom! you haven’t even gotten dressed yet?!”

“well, neither have you, apparently! plus, this is pretty comfortable, is it not?”

“tom-“ she warned.

“i got it, i got it..” his bare feet slapped against the hardwood floors as he quickly ran into their bedroom and retrieved his clothes. he came back out wearing a black t shirt and a pair of light blue sweatpants.

“KIMMEL IS STARTING!” she pointed at the tv and looked over to see tom bounce down onto the couch next to her, sprawling his legs out like she had done earlier.

“baby, that’s just the intro, i’m not there yet.” she peered over at him.

“who said i’m watching this for you?” he turned his head and made a sarcastic face.

“yeah, sure..” he mocked.

“WAIT, i need my blanket! go, get it, i don’t want to miss this!”

“y/n, it hasn’t even started yet-“

“now tom!”

“but what if i miss it!”

“you were there, you already know what happens-“ you lightly shoved his clothed knee and he sprung to his feet, so fast that tessa jolted up and ran after him.

“tessa! calm down!” the dog didn’t listen and continued following her dad, panting the whole way back.

once they were settled, jimmy announced his upcoming guests before a quick commercial break.

“quick, my ass..” she muttered.

tom stifled a chuckle. “why are you so bent up about this? you’ve seen my interviews before!”

“yeah, but i’ve never been able to actually watch one with you! it’s like… an entirely different experience!”

he didn’t believe her. “are you sure that’s the real reason? or is it because you just want me to give you secret info on the film, because love, you know i can’t do that, not after last time.”

she placed a hand on her chest playfully, “tom! i would never, how could you think of me like that?! as if i would ever do such a thing!”

“mmhmm..”

the commercials came to an end and y/n looked up to see jimmy start announcing the cast.

“shit, oh my god, it’s happening.”

“shhh, calm down!” tom laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, his other arm sprawled out behind the frame of the sofa.

“how can i keep calm!? my fucking BOYFRIEND is about to be on tv! you know how many people can say that they are dating spider-man? like, no one!” her knee was bouncing and she couldn’t contain the excitement. watching someone on television while sitting in the same room with them was a rush she had never felt before.

she was loud as hell inside.

“please welcome, tom hol-“

“WHOOOOO, YEAH!!” she started clapping dramatically and stood up for a quick second, her eyes glued to the tv as she watched her boyfriend appear, while her actual boyfriend sat there laughing at her excitement.

they did a stupid elevator bit, before him and everyone else walked up to their chairs.

“really, tom?” his dark eyes flickered to hers. “what?! i thought you would like it, it’s funny!” she rolled her eyes and smiled, thinking to herself: my boyfriend is a dork, even on national television.

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“oh my god, you all look so good.”

“i know, right?”

“look at jake!”

“yeah-“

“look at zendaya!”

“i know-“

“OH MY GOD LOOK A-“

“OKAY Y/N, i get it, everyone but me is attractive, thanks. you’ve made it pretty clear.” he frowned as you gushed over how good his coworkers looked.

“yes, tom! i think you look awful, that’s why i’ve been dating you for the past four years, because i think you are ugly.”

he looked at his girlfriend, uncertainty in his eyes.

“oh, come on, i’m joking! you’re beautiful, come here.” she grabbed the side of his head and pulled him over so his head was laying on her chest. she began to play with his hair while watching.

“so the trailer came out, the trailer got like 135 million views within the first hour-“

“yeah it did!” she exclaimed, her fingers busy in his hair.

“see, i didn’t know that then.” he muttered, his brows furrowing together as tessa looked up at him from y/n’s lap.

“well it’s no secret, i’m not very good at instagram.”

y/n bursted out laughing. it wasn’t even that funny, but all of her emotions where heightened in this moment.

“oh god, i know where this is going.. this is the zendaya story isn’t it?” you smirk down at him and he lifts his head to nod at you.

“i knew it..”

“i basically.. forgot to post the trailer.”

“that’s bad.”

“yes jimmy, yes it is.” she couldn’t contain the snickers leaving her mouth and tom protested against it.

“listen, it’s difficult for some people, okay!”

“mmhmm, whatever you say baby.” she remembers distinctly, waking up and asking her boyfriend why he never posted the trailer, which caused him to wind up into a frenzy and immediately contact zendaya for assistance.

“well, you wouldn’t tell me how to!”

“tom, you’re a grown man! you should be able to figure that out yourself, peter parker.” she leaned over and kissed his cheek, his arm wrapped around her.

“so you’re IT for the team?”

“yeah, y/n, making poor zendaya the it for the team-“

“oh, shush, it was funny as fuck. but not as funny as the time you spoi-“

he placed his finger on her lips to quiet her, “oh, stop it!” she giggled in response.

she watched as zendaya recalled the moment she had to screen record how to delete an instagram story for him, which was another thing y/n refused to help him with. sure, she loves him and all, but watching the panic on his face as he realizes that he messed up, always cracked her up. especially since he brags about how ‘tech savvy’ he is for his age.

“it’s not my fault you’re a grampa!”

“yeah, we’ll, you’re dating a grampa!”

“true, i am.”

her hands reached towards her blanket as she put her popcorn bowl down and laid the covering over her and her boyfriend. the grey weighted blanket matching the couch perfectly.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“okay, wait…why are you guys still in highschool?!” y/n had paused the program to engage in a very serious and heated discussion about the aftermath of endgame which led up to the beginning of his new movie, far from home, which had yet to come out.

“i mean.. it’s five years! i’m so confused.” tom sighed, placing his hands on his knees, he sat up straight. “like i said in the interview, y/n, i don’t know.”

“well… ask the russo brothers! i mean, jacob is right, that’s a huge plothole!”

toms eyes sparkled as he looked at his lover trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“i… i don’t even know what to say right now. my whole life is a lie!”

“okay, let’s not get too dramatic here-“

“NO, tom! as an avengers fanatic, i need to know!” she gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged, his body jolting forwards.

“tell me!” she shook him as he laughed and tessa barked.

“i don’t know, baby!” she frowned slightly and looked at her boyfriends amused face.

“i’m dating spider-man, you’d think i’d get the inside scoop.” she rolled her eyes and placed her legs back up on the cushions. tom leaned over and looked her up and down, flickering from her bare chest and her eyes. he leaned into her neck and started planting kisses. “i’m sorry, i will be sure to ask someone at marvel for you.” she smiled sweetly before thanking him.

“has everyone seen avengers: endgame?”

the girl rose to her feet, the blanket stuck to her bare legs. “yes, jimmy, i have! i saw my boyfriend get dusted right before my fucking eyes!”

tom remembered the first time he watched the film with her. it was hard for him to keep it under wraps and while he did end up telling her some spoilers, he kept out the whole ‘death by thanos’ part.

“okay, calm down little one.” he reached his arm out to pull her down, back to the couch.

“tom, baby, i know you like.. could get in trouble for it but-“

“y/n… not this conversation again.” he put his hand up to his forehead, two fingers on the bridge of his nose. she knew that if she prodded and poked in all the right spots, that her boyfriend would give in. that it just took a little push for him to confess all the dirty details of his new blockbuster.

“come on! i am begging, tom- i have so many questions, can you blame me? i mean… mysterio, like.. what’s that guy all about?! he’s a villian right?”

“well…”

“a hero?”

“definitely not.”

“antihero?”

“not exactly-“

“UGH, tom! you are killing me here.” she whined, putting her hands on his chest as the paused tv shined upon his features. “please give me something… anything.” she trailed her fingers down his chest, tauntingly.

“anything?” he smirked at her.

“yup. like… maybe just exactly what jakes character is? i mean, i remember him telling us at dinner that time, but that was barely enough, i mean.. there’s gotta be more right?”

“go on.”

“and mj, i mean.. is peter finally going to ask her out? baby, so many questions, i just have so many.”

“well… i guess i could tell you one thing..” he tempted her. her lips twitched upwards as she pressed her forehead against his.

“mmhmm?”

“i could tell you that… the ending of the movie?”

“yeah..”

“is fucking fantastic. really, it’s brilliant babes.”

“because?”

“you will just have to see-“ he was cut off by his girlfriend hitting him in the face with a pillow.

“FOR FUCKS SAKE TOM-“

“quiet down! you are going to get tessa all going..”

“sorry…”

a moment of silence passed as tom squealed, “for fucks sake tom!” in his best high pitched, y/n impression possible.

“shut up!”

the two laughed before she clicked play.

“you look so good here, tom. it’s so weird like- i’m sitting next to you-“ she pointed at tom, “but, there you are on tv!”

“you are just realizing this?”

“well, it’s like inception!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i was told, it was a wedding!”

her chest boiled with anger as she quickly hit pause. “NO BECAUSE, fuck you for that! i remember being all excited, thinking tony and pepper were gonna have a beautiful wedding, only to see hes fucking DEAD.”

tom couldn’t hold in his laughs. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know!”

“well it’s pretty obvious, tom! everyone’s sad and in black, baby, you really are an airhead.”

“hey-“ she cut him off with a kiss to his lips.

the two cuddled up while watching the interview, small laughs leaving their bodies.

“like, zendaya! when did you find out how endgame ended?”

“oh, i remember. me, jacob, and zendaya were all in a facetime call freaking the fuck out, while my boyfriend over here, was chilling like nothing was wrong.”

“you guys were in a facetime call?” he questioned.

“yes! i was heartbroken and i had gotten a call from z who was clearly also upset!”

“well, he’s fine clearly! i mean, i wouldn’t be in far from home if peter was dead, right?”

she looked up at him, his heartbeat still lingering on her skin. “so you can tell me that you are still alive, but you can’t tell me about jake gyllenhaals character?”

“well, it’s a given! obviously peter is alive!”

y/n groaned, her head now resting on his chest.

“dating a superhero is difficult.”

“aww, poor darling, i’m sure it is.” he peppered kisses along her forehead.

“hey! you ate all of the popcorn?!” tom was flabbergasted, his voice heightening a few octaves.

“yep, and what about it?” her tone dripping in sass.

“i wanted some, for one!”

“too bad, maybe if you would spill the deets on far from home, you’d get some of my popcorn. hell, tom, if you confess right now, i’ll make you a whole bowl!”

“no.”

“well it was worth a try!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i can’t believe it’s over.” the house was completely silent, the only thing audible being tessa’s light snores.

“i’m gonna miss that guy..”

“baby, i’m right here.” he placed his hand at the small of her back, looking at her lovingly.

“i’m talking about mysterio.”

“oh, yeah, great!” she giggled at his response. “he’s just so hot, tom! way hotter than peter-“

“yeah, maybe if you think manipulation is hot!”

her mouth fell agape at his words.

“what?” he said, oblivious to the screw up he just made. she smiled widely at him as he slowly was hit with realization.

“oh, fucking damn it!”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff

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nocturnal-dreams · 3 years

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Protective

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Pairing: Karl Jacobs x F! Reader (although I guess also GN neutral works, maybe just an AFAB reader)

Warnings: mentions of abuse

Note: Drug dealer Karl pog?

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'Be there at 10'

You rolled your eyes reading over the text from Garrett, of course, he couldn't risk his perfect reputation to do his own dirty work. Feeling the eyes roaming across your body made your skin squirm, you knew your outfit was rather revealing, your shirt making your cleavage pop out making multiple drunk men keep their eyes on you or rather your cleavage. You knew you'd have a word with Garrett later about it although you know he most likely wouldn't have cared.

You weren't sure why you were still dating Garrett, I mean he was a dick. You guessed you just stayed with him for this long because of his money, he had a house and a stable income that allowed you to live very comfortably, or at least as comfortable as you could get.

This wasn't your first time buying drugs for Garrett, he always gave you the money and a small description of the dealer's looks and location. He couldn't risk his perfect rep being ruined by someone finding out about his drug usage so he decided to risk yours. Garrett was waiting just outside in the car for you to finish the deal, the only problem was you were having a hard time finding the dealer.

Your eyes scanned the room of drunk individuals till they landed on someone. A guy was walking down the stairs as your eyes followed the handsome stranger. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater with yellow plodded jeans, multiple rings on his fingers which had the nails painted black. His hair was a light brown, almost like a mop on his head but it suited him, unlike most men you had seen with the style. As you stared longer, you saw him turn towards you, catching your gaze in his steel-grey eyes. He was coming near you as you tried to look away, trying to lose yourself in the crowd but you already felt his hand around your arm.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for someone; average height, kind of greyish black hair, round glasses, might be wearing some kind of ugly button-up shirt," the handsome stranger had said as you stared at him, he had to be referring to Garrett. This stranger did match Garrett's description of the dealer, he looked too nice to be a drug dealer though.

"Do you happen to be Jacobs?" you questioned, you just wanted to make sure that this was the right guy before you went and spilled your reason for being here on a complete stranger.

“Just call me Karl, so you know Garrett?” Karl had said, you didn’t want to stay around him much longer than you needed too. Not that you were scared of him, actually the opposite, he made you feel safe, it's just you didn’t want Garrett to get impatient.

“Garrett sent me, do you have my stuff?” you tried to hold yourself, you didn’t want to seem vulnerable, that was the biggest thing that Garrett was annoyed about. He didn’t want you to seem weak when he would send you on his drug pick-ups.

“Garrett couldn’t even come to his own deal,” Karl laughed, it was a cute laugh, a lot better than Garrett’s rare rough chuckle that you disliked, if you had to be honest, everything about Garrett you disliked. If it wasn’t for his bank account and house, you would have left a long time ago. Karl looked you over, his eyes roaming over your body wasn’t very different from the crowd but it also felt different, “so what’s someone like you buying stuff like this?”

“And who are you to ask what I buy? Aren’t you just doing this to get paid?” you were growing tired of Karl since he was wasting your time, it wouldn’t be long until Garrett would be coming into the party yelling at you for taking too long.

“Well I could always just refuse to sell it to you,” Karl asked again, “so why are you buying this stuff? You’re wearing only what I can describe as little miss sunshine to a party, you don’t buy drugs.”

“It’s for my boyfriend, now gimme!” you groaned and rolled your eyes.

“I’m not giving this to you, Garrett can come out here and buy it himself. You know my friend Chris mentioned someone being here instead of Garrett, just didn’t think it’d be someone as beautiful as you,” Karl looked away from you towards the crowd, leaning on the rail looking down at the party, “but till Mr Dogwater gets here, I’m not leaving you, I can’t tell how many guys I’ve seen just eyeing you like meat since you got here. It’s honking disgusting. Perves.”

You hide the smile on your face from his own censorship, “it’s how it always is. It’s how I live.”

“That shouldn’t be how life is, it's sad. Guys should learn to keep crap to themselves,” Karl sighed.

You glanced at him, his eyes looking at the crowd of people dancing and drunkenly talking to themselves. You were disappointed in yourself for feeling so safe around someone you just met, this was what exactly Garrett was bitching to you about two hours ago.

“I’m Y/N,” you finally decided to introduce yourself, it was only fair.

“Do you always pick up for Garrett?” you nodded in response to Karl’s question then realized he wasn’t looking at you.

“Yeah. He says that he can’t be seen around people like-well-like you.” You gestured towards Karl, him looking at you out the corner of his eye.

“Drug dealers? He can’t be seen with drug dealers but is willing to risk your safety and reputation to be around me? Put you in danger? You know drug dealers are dangerous right?” he looked at you.

“So you’re saying you’re dangerous?” you laughed through the pain his question brought, you knew at this point the relationship between you and Garrett, you were just his drug camel and something for him to stick his dick in when he got bored.

“I’m not dangerous,” Karl shook his head.

You were about to reply when Garrett came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his chest, his eyes narrowing on Karl as Garrett’s grasp on you tightened, almost bruising. “Hey babe,” you had been too wrapped up in your conversation with Karl to even notice Garrett enter the party, “who’s this twink?”

You tried to hide how uncomfortable you had grown when Garrett’s hands left your waist and grabbed your ass, “uh Karl… he has your uh- you know?”

You heard Garrett sigh before he leaned into your ear, making it hard for Karl to hear with the music as Garrett whispered angrily, “why couldn’t you fucking get it? You know I can’t be seen around people like him, let alone his twink ass.”

Karl glared, able to read Garrett’s lips. Karl pushed himself off of the rail, his arms being crossed across his chest, “I wouldn’t allow them. If its not for them then I can’t give it to them.” Karl said loudly as Garrett told him to shut up, “listen if you want the stuff then you gotta get it yourself, Jimmy’s rules.”

A few people started to stare at the scene, Garrett’s jaw clenching as his grip on your arm tightened, “come on, I can get it from somewhere else.”

“Can’t we just go home, I don’t want to go anywhere else, I’m tired,” you spoke quietly, trying to hold back your protests to tell Garrett to lighten his hold on your arm which was starting to hurt from his painful grip.

“Y/N we can go home when I find someone else to get my supply from,” Garrett’s grip only tightened.

“Dude she wants to go home, take her home,” Karl chimed in, his voice no longer the cheering tone but rather low and pissed off, “they have a fucking say and you’re being hella rude. They want to go home. Take them home now.”

“Dude whatever. I’m leaving. Are you coming with me or no?” Garrett looked down at you. You couldn’t form any kind of words on your tongue as you started to back away towards Karl, shaking your head. Garrett’s jaw clenched as he rolled his eyes, “whatever, we’re done, bitch!”

Your boyfriend or rather now ex-boyfriend started to walk away down the stairs. Karl’s jaw clenched and and turned Garrett around on the stairs and clocked him right in the jaw, sending Garrett stumbling down the last few steps. You put your hand over your mouth holding back the slightest laugh. Garrett had stood up and went to punch Karl but Karl pulled up his shirt slightly over his belt and flashed something that sent Garrett running out.

You furrowed your eyebrows confused on what just happened as Karl came back up the stairs to where you were standing as you thanked him. Karl shrugged, “no problem, here let me take you home with me.” He said as you bit your lip.

Sure you didn’t know Karl well but you trusted him better than you ever did Garrett. “Alright, let’s go,” you smiled as Karl smiled back. You walked out with Karl behind you leading you over to his car. People would look at the two of you cause of what happened but one glance from Karl made them turn away. You felt safe with Karl, something you never felt with Garrett.

Karl drove you to his home, allowing you to borrow some of his clothes and sleep on his bed after you asked him for number allowing you two to keep in contact. You told him goodnight as you got into his bed, him leaving to his living room as you fell asleep happy for once.

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#karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagines #feral boys #feral boys x reader #feral boys imagines #mr beast #mr beast x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #drug dealer Karl

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fangirl-imagines · 3 years

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Jimmy Conway Being Protective of You Would Include...

A/N: Mentions of violence. I mean, it is Jimmy after all.

Jimmy’s got a really short fuse, everyone knows that.

He’s got no problem at all with throwing punches or fighting, especially when he feels like someone has it coming.

He can and has beat the hell out of guys for trying to screw around with his money.

That’s just over money, he’s got no problem with doing the same thing if he thinks someone is trying to mess with his girl.

Jimmy is very protective of you, especially after you’ve been together for a while and he really falls for you.

When the two of you go out together he’s always got his arm wrapped around your waist or his hand on your lower back, keeping you close to him when you walk.

And you end up sitting in his lap more often than you end up sitting next to him.

Jimmy likes to keep you close to him whenever you go out together, partly just because he likes you pressed up against him and partly to keep an eye out for you.

Whenever Jimmy’s out of town he has Tommy go check in on you just to make sure you’re okay and no one is giving you any trouble.

Jimmy would probably try to teach you how to use a gun at some point and show you where he keeps one stashed in the house in case you ever need to know how to use it.

It’s more for Jimmy’s own piece of mind than anything since the two of you are almost always together.

If you’re working late or coming home late from visiting friends/family Jimmy will insist on picking you up or send one of his guys to give you a ride.

Not going to lie, a lot of Jimmy’s guys are lowkey terrified of you.

Because they know if they cross any lines with you Jimmy will kill them.

Literally, Jimmy would actually kill them.

Like the one time, one of the guys decided to push their luck and run their mouth about you.

Jimmy broke his arm and let him know not to let it happen ever again.

Henry and Tommy are just about the only ones who are comfortable with you and friendly.

You have to be careful when you’re venting about someone upsetting you to Jimmy because he will offer to go down to your work, university, etc. and set some people straight for you.

And God help anyone who actually tries to be disrespectful or put their hands on you in front of Jimmy.

He will lose his fucking mind.

You’re his girl. He hates seeing you upset and will do anything to keep you safe and happy.

#jimmy conway #jimmy conway x reader #jimmy conway imagine #robert de niro #robert de niro x reader #robert de niro imagine #goodfellas #goodfellas x reader #goodfellas imagine

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raspberry-arev · 3 years

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After the Flood (a.k.a. bicci fic)

Hello friends! Some of you may remember that back in... er, who knows, I was writing a Bicci Proposal Fanfic. However, school and lack of motivation got in the way, and essentially, I forgot it existed. Until now. It's done, it's ready, it's here for you to read in whole! (I posted half of it before, but I can't find the thing.)

Characters: Jimmy Kaga-Ricci, Lister Bird, Rowan Omondi, OC (Abby Omondi), Angel Rahimi

Themes: older Ark, marriage proposal, coming out, grand gestures, The Ark Revival Tour, and peak Bicci romance (hopefully)

TWs: mentions of recovery from addiction, anxiety, food

Word count: 9k

JIMMY

It’s often impossible to pinpoint what exactly set off an event – or perhaps multiple – that changed your life as you knew it.

That was not Jimmy’s case, however. He remembered that Barbecue Saturday very well.

This time, it was Rowan and his spouse Abby who hosted. The two couples took turns and Jimmy was oh so grateful for it; the idea of managing Lister’s chaotic culinary experiments more than twice in one summer filled him with dread.

On Saturday morning, Jimmy and Lister packed up and drove all the way to the suburbs of London where Rowan and Abby lived. The sun was bright, everything gleamed buttery yellow, and Jimmy managed to talk Abby into letting him set the table and carry in all the food instead of her, which was quite an accomplishment. She was about as stubborn as her husband.

They rarely invited more than three extra people though. Being in the public eye in your formative years made you appreciate small gatherings of trustworthy people. And one of those proved to be Angel. Or, you know, Feresteh, but her nickname really stuck with them. From that time Jimmy nearly quit the band and Lister impaled himself and almost drowned in mud… yeah, call that a wild youth.

Over ten years later, they were hardly the same people.

After they decided to quit being The Ark for their own wellbeing and safety, Rowan kept his place in the music industry as a songwriter, producer and a solo artist. He went with the name Le Monde, a play on his surname as well as French for “the world”. It suited him. He was the world, never small, never just one thing.

Lister stopped being involved in music after a few collabs. While he was figuring out what to do next, he took a few modelling jobs, acted in music videos and got a small part in a sitcom. Jimmy used that time to get a college degree, but found he just wouldn’t be able to get the usual “college experience” he yearned for, and only got his diploma after doing classes long-distance.

Jimmy and Lister also got together. After many failed attempts at courtship and pretending being friends with benefits was enough… they got together. To Jimmy, it felt like it was inevitable; they have acted like partners long before it was official, they just needed to clean up their own messes before they could be a couple. It wouldn’t have felt right back then, but it did now.

Rowan was already at the grill preparing meat and wrapping camembert in shiny aluminium foil when Angel marched in, tall, elegant, beaming. Jimmy loved to see her again. Each time, she seemed a little more confident, more expressive, more… just more. She really did find her calling in the music industry, just as much as he found his tucked away in rural England with his boyfriend.

Yet, he was to be “tucked away” no longer.

At a certain point, their group fell momentarily silent; everyone was chewing their meal and soaking in the sun. Then Angel said, in an unfamiliar, cautious tone: “You see, I was talking to a couple of people…”

Rowan exchanged a quick look with Jimmy. “Go on,” he said.

“It’s gonna be ten years since you guys disbanded, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy echoed.

“So. I was thinking. Hear me out, even if you think it’s bollocks…” Angel shot them a look, and then made a motion with her hand as if she was presenting them with something. “Have you ever thought of doing a revival concert?”

As Rowan did a theatrical “errrm”, Jimmy saw straight through his best friend’s bullshit: the two of them rehearsed this conversation. He knew Ro for most of his life, who did he think he was fooling?

His mind offered the answer quickly: Abby, perhaps. He wants to see how she would react, doesn’t he? Rowan would love to do a revival show like that, no doubt, but he valued his wife’s opinion too much to make a decision without her.

He felt movement on his left, and looked Lister in the eyes.

“Well,” said Lister, looking at him. “Wow, okay,” said Jimmy. Both were considering.

Angel swiftly picked up, “Just wanted to run this idea by you. Not because it’s me who would love to see you play once more – I mean, of course I would – but it’s expected to have an amazing turn-out.”

“Obviously, they’re The Ark,” Abby commented matter-of-factly.

“You’re right, Abby. So, guys? How are we feeling about this?”

It was bizzare. Normally, Jimmy would have expected to say he wasn’t at all interested – the boyband life was not for him anymore, tough luck – but recently, he felt a strong sense of nostalgia surge through him as the ten year mark got closer. He found himself reaching for his old guitar way more often, strumming at it, looking for something between the strings he could not reach.

Maybe he could do it just once.

What eventually came out of his mouth was… “I haven’t sung like that for a long time though.”

“You sing to me,” Lister contradicted him, his fingers intertwining with his. “All the time.”

Jimmy felt his face get hotter. “That’s hardly… Are you thousands of people?” He turned to Angel. “How many are we talking, anyway?”

She smiled a kind smile. “I don’t know, Jimmy, that depends on whether you three are up to it or not.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Personally speaking, I think I wouldn’t mind, as long as we are just doing it once, and not trying for a comeback. I wouldn’t go there.”

“Same,” Lister nodded. “I love you guys, but I’m fine the way things are.”

“Right,” said Rowan firmly. “But… just this once, I mean, why not? We could use some extra money.” With this, he gently let his palm rest on Abby’s belly that swelled under her summer dress like a balloon. (Jimmy fought the urge to aww at them.)

Abby immediately assured him they were more than fine financially, but Rowan barely listened, clearly waiting for his former bandmates to say something. Jimmy felt Lister looking at him, unwavering. So he turned to him and asked, “What do you think? Cool or not?”

“I’m waiting for you to say.”

“Why?”

“Don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

“You shouldn’t… Just say what your opinion is!”

“You express your opinion,” Lister retorted, pretending to square his shoulders as a threat. Jimmy lovingly nudged him, and to stop being annoying to the remaining three people at the table, he shrugged, “It doesn’t sound so bad. One concert. I mean, we are still friends after all this time, so why not?”

“In that case, I would love to be the centre of attention again!” Lister exclaimed and gave Jimmy a boyish grin. “The crowd was deprived of my looks for too long.”

“Buddy, you were the drummer,” Rowan said. “Bold of you to assume anyone even looked at you with me and Jimmy jumping at the front.”

Jimmy snorted with laughter, but Lister was quick to defend himself. “Google all Lister Bird slash Reader fanfic and then we can talk about who got noticed, buddy.”

“Oi, you’re not even properly revived yet, stop fighting!” Angel called out, but laughter started bubbling from every direction before she even finished the sentence.

They had a proper business meeting about it in two weeks. And then another and another. When they announced the first date, the sales went through the roof. Jimmy had to get off of social media because the internet exploded with their names and faces. But he sort of found it a bit sweet, that so many people stuck around for them, like old friends that he never had the chance to talk to. One concert became three and then five, which was, honestly, more like a small tour at that point. Jimmy fought to call it After the Flood and won.

LISTER

“You really shouldn’t do that, you know. This bitch is hard to get rid of.”

Rowan tried to hide a small cough and put out his cigarette on the metal window sill next to him. “Hey,” he greeted Lister. “Didn’t expect you to come out here.”

“Yeah.” Lister found it hard to hang around smokers, and unfortunately, he met quite the number of them while they were in the process of rehearsing. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“What’s up?”

“Can we walk, like, over there? So… nobody can hear us through the door?”

Rowan eyed him suspiciously, but he followed him to the railing on the edge of the roof. There, he turned to him, seeming to fight himself.

“I’m really looking for a less shitty way to ask this,” he admitted eventually. “But… What have you done now, Lister?”

Lister felt a sort of numbed cramp seize his stomach for a second. It took a lot not to let anger overcome him. They were well over thirty, how the hell was Rowan still treating him like a fuck up? But no. This was more important than old grudges.

“Nothing! As of yet,” he assured his bandmate.

“Okay…?”

“Right. So. Erm. Nobody is here, right? Fine. I had this idea… you know, Jimmy and I have been together for a long time and I obviously care about him a lot, I always have, you kind of know that…”

“Yes, go on,” he pushed on gently.

“Fuck it. I want to fucking propose!”

A giant weight fell off his shoulders when he spoke those words aloud. It was like coming out all over again, god.

Rowan’s eyes twinkled. “Oooh,” he almost whispered, “and you need my help with that? I’m your man, tell me the plan!”

“There is none right now.”

“Oh, okay. I can still help if you want.”

This was another part Lister dreaded discussing.

“I… okay, so, I was thinking of… doing it on stage?”

His friend’s face changed rapidly.

Lister’s dream of a grand proposal to the love of his life in brilliant stage lights and the roars of the audience faded away. “That’s a no? That’s a no. Shit, forget it then.” He felt sick.

“Lister, I’m absolutely positive you mean well,” Rowan started. “But Jimmy would-“

Speak of the devil.

The door opened and out of it peaked Jimmy’s unshaven face. “Oh! There you both are.”

Rowan froze for a second. Lister was ready to improvise. “Alright, so how about I come by yours after practice and you transfer the files to me?” He smiled, but impaled Rowan with a meaningful look.

Fortunately, he caught on. “Oh yeah, yeah, that could work.”

“What files?” Jimmy inquired as he joined them, oblivious.

“Rowan has some of our old drafts still saved. I was thinking of squeezing in a drum solo somewhere, maybe with spoken word over it?”

“Sounds cool,” Jimmy smiled at him and slightly brushed the back of his hand with Lister’s. “Anyway, Dick the Sound Guy wants us all in there immediately.”

“Stop calling him that or I’ll have a Freudian slip at some point,” Lister laughed and guided Jimmy back into the building. Him and Rowan managed to exchange a subtle nod over the shorter man’s head.

JIMMY

As they were packing up that day, Jimmy tried incredibly hard to catch Rowan alone. Just like the old times when he needed to discuss something personal. And yet again, it involved Lister. Jimmy felt young and stupid again, but not really in a good way.

Finally, he managed to stop him while he was putting away the equipment. Lister was meanwhile in the office of their temporary new manager. “Ro, I need advice!” he whispered to his best friend.

“What about?”

“It’s Lister.”

“Oh dear Jesus, I’m having flashbacks.”

“Don’t be a dick, it’s important.”

“Okay then, tell me.”

“It kind of involves you too. Just… tell me if it’s a good idea.”

“Go on!”

“I want to, uh… I want to tell people Lister and I are a couple…” He took a breath. “Which means I would be coming out as gay as well, probably. I know that’s, like, a huge pile of drama, so if you don’t want me to complicate the tour, just say it, it’s honestly kind of irresponsible when I’m thinking about it now…”

“Jimbob. Easy.” Rowan waited for a second for Jimmy to wind down, leaning on a stack of five chairs, and then asked, “Are you really sure about it? Do you want people to know?”

Jimmy felt his thoughts humming in his head. He forced himself to say exactly how he felt.

“I know it’s gonna sound super dramatic, but I don’t want to die not saying it,” he explained slowly. “It became really important to me… I don’t know when. But it did. Talking about this part of me, too. I’m just worried about what Lister might say.”

“So I take it that you didn’t discuss this?”

“No way. I don’t even know how to start!” Jimmy exploded in loud whispering. “I should have talked to him a long time ago, but I just didn’t have the balls.”

“I get that, but… just bring it up. Like, theoretically. What if. I think he’s going to support you through it.”

“How could he?”

“What are you even saying at this point?

“You think he would like people sticking their nose in our personal business? I feel like it’s so unfair to him and his privacy… And I feel terrible about still wanting to do it… even though it’s inconsiderate. It’s all a fucking mess.”

“Okay, okay.” Rowan massaged his nose. He looked like he was trying incredibly hard not to snap at Jimmy and be at least somewhat encouraging. “Look, no spoilers, but I am going to say this. Lister absolutely will notbe mad and he will want to talk about the two of you if you give him the chance. That is all.”

“Wait, what? Ro, did he tell you something?”

“I am not talking!”

“Is that how you treat your best friend in a life crisis?!”

“You’re putting me in a life crisis, don’t you dare play the pity card! I swear, the two of you are a nightmare.”

“Rowan! Come back!”

LISTER

His visit to Rowan’s place was very brief, but it was enough for him to understand Rowan’s concerns. Eventually.

Lister explained that it didn’t feel appropriate for him to just whip out a ring in a restaurant: Jimmy was his love, his dream boy, as cliché as it sounded, and he wanted to do something that would measure up to all he was feeling. Which was… well, a whole lot. Like a “get down on one knee in front of thousands of people” lot.

And yet.

“It’s all great, and I’m sure there are people in the world that would love it, but we are talking about Jimmy.”

“Come on. I know, he’s private about… well, everything, but…”

“That, yes,” Rowan pointed at him while holding a can of coke, “but don’t you think this proposal on stage would be an anxiety-inducing situation? Because to me, that sounds like a lot of pressure and nerves.”

“He hasn’t had attacks since we moved and he went on those meds.”

“That doesn’t really –“

“Matter. Yeah. Yeah, I get your point, mate, he would die of shock. And everybody watching him. Fuck, I’m stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” Rowan grinned. “The two of you are just different… in some aspects. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Will I? Lister asked himself as he was driving back to the hotel that Jimmy and him were staying at for the time being. This was the only thing I came up with, like, ever.

When he swept his key card over the sensor and the door to their suite opened, he was greeted by the smell of dinner. He took a look into their little kitchen and found his boyfriend sitting at the table with his laptop. He didn’t notice him for a second, so Lister came up behind him and hugged him tightly.

Jimmy yelped.

“Where’s the food?!” Lister shook him a little, imitating Batman.

“Your hands are so cold!” Jimmy protested, but there was a trace of laughter in his voice. “On the stove, you bully!”

Lister almost flew over there, looking under the lid on the pot.

“Pasta,” Jimmy shrugged. “I needed my comfort food, so that’s that for you.” Lister smiled and thanked him, because yes, he was starving. Pasta was Jimmy’s go-to meal to cook, as it was quick to make and he was a pasta-sauce prodigy.

While his dinner was heating up in the microwave, Jimmy made small-talk about the supposed unused lyrics Rowan and him exchanged. Lister found it hard to lie to him, so he just turned to playful teasing, telling Jimmy to stop sniffing around, he’ll hear it when the time comes.

“Oh come on,” Jimmy huffed. “I’m just asking! And it’s my show, too. Spill it.”

“Sorry. Totally gonna steal your spotlight.”

“Lister, just tell me what it is.”

“A song.”

“What song?”

“A song that you have to wait for.”

“Babe, what song?!”

Lister took him by the waist and pulled him against his body. “Are you trying to ‘babe’ me into telling you right now? Is that what’s happening? Right in front of my pasta?” He went in for a kiss, and Jimmy tried to murmur something against his lips… but then he gave up. They leaned into each other and kept kissing until Lister pulled away to open the microwave. He got himself a fork and went to sit down after the long day, but Jimmy stayed there, right next to the sink. Looking a bit like he was going to hurl.

Before Lister could ask if he’s okay, Jimmy sat down on the other chair with a determined look on his face.

“There is something I need to discuss!” he blurted out.

Lister cautiously dropped the fork back into the bowl. “Okay…? And it’s something to do with me, yeah?”

“Yep. A lot to do with you.” He was visibly nervous. He clasped his hands together, as if Lister would have not noticed. “I… I was thinking about this one thing, and I need your opinion about it.”

“Cool. Go for it.”

“It’s about our relationship.”

“Are you aware you sound very sinister right now?”

He wildly shook his hands as if he wanted to dry them off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to,” he apologized in a strained voice. Then he cleared his throat, sharply lifted his eyes towards Lister’s and exclaimed, “I would like to reveal that we’re together.”

Lister felt everything about his face go lax in shock. He opened his eyes round and wide, his mouth followed, and Jimmy looked like he would faint.

“I, er. I just. I thought about it and I think it’s a decent idea and – please say something, Lister, before I get a fucking heart attack right now.”

It must have been so hard for him to speak up. Lister thought of his proposal plans and felt his mouth slowly form a smile. “I think it’s… brilliant! Yes, I would really like to do that!”

“Wait, really?”

“This is – I didn’t think you would want to, when did you change your mind?”

Jimmy shrugged, grinning in a sheepish way that made him look much younger. And cuter. “I thought I just… wanted to be open about this part of my life. Figured it’s time to say we are together. But if you, like, don’t feel like it, then…”

Lister beamed. “I feel like it. If you do, I do, trust me.” He walked around the table and lifted Jimmy into a hug. He laughed, relieved.

This was when it dawned on Lister… it was not such an easy matter. Exciting, yes, but it would gather all kinds of attention. He leaned onto the table, grabbed his dinner and him and Jimmy started talking about the situation it would put them in. If both are truly okay with it, how much would they reveal, when is the best time to do it. They kept talking through the bathroom door and while they were changing into pajamas in their bedroom.

As they were laying down and Lister gestured Jimmy to crawl into his arms, they became quieter. “You know why I also want to say it?” Jimmy mumbled, lying on the soft linen with one eye open.

“I’m all ears.”

“If I have to see one more article about which model or actress you’re screwing, I’m gonna lose the remaining marbles that I have.” Lister started chuckling as Jimmy awkwardly added, “Which is, admittedly, not many. Most have been lost in my youth.”

“Oh no,” Lister laughed and turned Jimmy’s face upwards to his. “So this just in: my boyfriend is possessive. Fancy that.”

“I’m not, it’s… I am… Oh, you hated Jowan, stop being smug.”

“I know I did, we both know. But jealous Jimmy? That’s a rare sight.”

“It’s just super uncomfortable. It’s all women, as well.”

“Heteronormativity is a bitch,” Lister nodded. He snuggled closer and let out a breath, “Don’t worry though. I am exclusively your problem.”

Jimmy kissed him, smiling. Lister felt lightheaded. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Jimmy’s. He loved this – he loved how much he felt for him after so long they have been together. It never ceased or faded away… because it was Jimmy.

Lister was pretty sure he would love him until his last day on Earth.

It was time to start looking for a ring.

JIMMY

Not much later, they had a team meeting scheduled with all the important people at their recording company that were involved with their tour. Jimmy and Lister announced their intention to come out during the tour, and with Rowan’s full support, it wasn’t too hard to win the producers over. Jimmy had anticipated the PR people would deem it overly risky to their image, but they were fairly chill. As Rowan had put it, “As if anything about The Ark was ever about pandering to conservatives.”

They agreed that their demographic is absolutely different, and before they knew it, they were being ignored while people were exchanging speculations about how it all could help them promote the tour.

“If they do it on, like, the second show…”

“…we could sell some extra tickets after… another wave…”

“…that would probably be a good time to release a single, something related to…”

Jimmy felt something in his chest sink. This is why they left. These people took something good, something from their hearts and souls, and wanted to turn it into money. Some part of him understood, that’s how business works, but mostly, he just felt really sad for them.

“Oi!” Lister exploded over the chatter. “Sorry, but we are still here, and – Could you maybe not act like this coming out is a marketing tactic?!”

The room went briefly silent.

Jimmy squeezed his hand under the table to say a silent thanks. Then he choked out, “That’s not why we’re doing it!”

Their producer looked at them over the top of her reading glasses.

“Of course it’s not, love,” she cooed. “But to say it bluntly, I think you need all the help you can get.”

After many weeks and many briefings, they had agreed on making the announcement on the third show. Right in the middle of tour. Everybody was nervous, expectant, but there was this air of hopefulness when Jimmy and Lister ended up alone together. The glimmer in his partner’s eye when their eyes met promised something… no, it was not living absolutely openly, they still wanted privacy. But it felt like they were sealing something.

This was not an easy coming out.

But they were in for it. Together.

LISTER

“Just so I know,” Rowan said as Lister was trying to take off his Doc Martens with all his might, “what did you tell Jimmy this time?”

“We’re still working on music.”

“We should really make something then, before you go. I am not gonna lie to my childhood best friend, y’know.”

Finally, the boot came off, and Lister got off the little cabinet in Rowan’s hall. Abby was already making tea, and when she saw him walk by the kitchen door, she just nodded at him. Lister smirked at her; she loved pretending to still be mad at him for taking Rowan to a strip club on his stag night. (Or was it dancing on the table at the wedding reception? Anyhow.)

Rowan sat him down in the lounge and started the conversation with: “So. The big reveal is getting closer. How are we feeling?”

“I – great, good. I’m fine, and Jimmy seems to be fine, so yeah, we’re fine.”

“But I assume that’s not what you need help with?”

“You assume right. I will need you to bear with me, though.”

“That sounds interesting,” Rowan retorted and flashed a smile at Abby who was bringing them two steaming mugs of earl gray. “And when I say interesting I mean impending doom, why thank you, Abby!”

“No problem.” She slowly leaned over, careful not to lose balance with her belly, and kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll be off for my swimming class then. You two behave, will you.”

As she was making her way to the hall, Lister jokingly remarked, “No goodbye kiss for me?”

She stopped in the middle of the room and exchanged a glance with Rowan. Rowan, stirring his tea with a teaspoon, said, “Please don’t kill him, I need him for the concert.”

“Come on, you guys, I was fully kidding. Goodbye, Abby,” he waved to her with a bright smile. “Enjoy your swimming stuff!”

“Thank you, will do.” She disappeared.

“Just a question!” he called after her. She came back with an eyeroll. “Is it, like, harder to swim when you are pregnant? Like, I don’t mean to insult you or anything, I’m just genuinely wondering.”

She, too, put aside her snarky façade for a second. “Actually, I go there because it’s relieving. The water makes you float, so the weight of the baby is taken off my back and legs for a little while.”

“Oh! That’s clever.”

“Thank you. The more you know, am I right?”

“You know what I was just thinking of?”

“Yeah? I really have to go.”

“When you’re swimming, you’re a human submarine for the baby.”

It seemed to take Abby a minute to realize what he was saying. Very slowly, she brought her palm to her forehead.

Rowan then didn’t make it much better by adding, “Since when does a submarine have water inside? That would defeat the purpose.”

Lister thought about it and then gasped. “So… right now, you are a reverse human submarine!”

Abby looked at them both, clearly lost for words. “I’ll just go…” She closed the lounge door behind her.

After a good ten minutes of Rowan half laughing and half chastising Lister for saying the things he says, Lister threw his hands up in the air and claimed they seem to have “traded their sense of humour for a marriage certificate” two years ago.

Rowan immediately followed: “Speaking of marriage, any updates on that? You and…?”

“Well, my friend, that is precisely what we need to talk about today.”

“Okay. The meeting is officially in session, go.”

“First: am I the only one that was really surprised by Jimmy wanting to make us public? Because I really didn’t expect that at all.”

“Yeah, I guess he’s still full of surprises, huh?”

“That he is. However, Ro, I was thinking, and I still want to do a proposal. No – let me finish, it’s not that straightforward. I spent a lot of time talking to Jimmy about what he wants and how he sees the future, and you were super right in saying that I should never put him on the spot like that. Being so exposed to the public when we were kids messed with us in a big way, all of us.”

Rowan snapped his fingers in agreement.

“The idea is… It would be a proposal before a proposal. Like… I don’t know, announcing that I have the intention of proposing to him soon. And asking him if he is okay with that, you know? If he’s okay with the idea of saying yes. That way,” Lister gesticulated with his hands, “he’s not forced right there to say yes, the eventual real proposal can be sort of expected, which would calm him down a bit, but still a surprise, because when is it going to happen? I’m not saying.”

Rowan stared at him for about three seconds. “That was… a whole thing, buddy.”

“Thoughts?”

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. Wait. You want to do a proposal before the actual proposal.”

“Yes.”

“On stage. At the same time you are announcing that the two of you are together?”

“No! I mean, I don’t think so. I thought like, more at the end, maybe.”

“Proposal before a proposal…”

“It’s clever, if you think about it.”

“To me, it just seems very extra, Lister. Which I know is your trademark, but –”

“No, but listen. I want to propose to Jimmy. He wouldn’t survive a big flashy proposal, but I still want to make it a big deal, because it is. Ergo, I announce that I want to spend the rest of my stupid little life with him and ask him if it is okay to propose to him one day, likely soon.”

Rowan’ expression changed. “That does make sense,” he said. “For the two of you, especially.”

“Okay then: dear dad, do I have your blessing?”

“Never call me that again. But yes.”

“You are the closest to being a father out of all of us.”

“That is not what it sounds like and you know it.”

JIMMY

The first show was an explosion of feeling and memories. Nauseous with anxiety, burdened with expectation and weak in the knees, Jimmy ran into his first appearance on the stage the same way he would run into the middle of the highway. The lights and screams and colours almost blew him to pieces and then glued him back together. His first words addressed to the crowd and the earth-shattering screams that came in answer woke something in him, a force of nature. The gig was rather small compared to those they ended on ten years ago, but the crowd loved them to pieces and oh, he felt so alive.

The second show was slightly bigger, yes, and their fans didn’t disappoint. Plenty of pride flags were chucked at him, and he waved them and gave them to his mates and it made him even more excited about what him and Lister were going to do the next time round. These people stayed with them for so long, this sea of faces that looked toward him… for many of them, he would be the representation they need, again.

He remembered being a young trans boy, questioning if there is a life, a future, for him. Where were all the queer adults? The trans adults? How could he imagine adult life if he had never seen someone like him live it?

There he was, now. Adult. Gay. Transgender. A lot of time, he still knew very little about what he was doing, but he had a boyfriend who knew equally little, and together, they might be just what some queer kid in the crowd yearns to see.

LISTER

It was D-Day. Christ and Mary, it was, and they were going to say it. Finally. The staff have been informed, the security has been strengthened, they did everything so that some fan wouldn’t try and knock them the fuck out…, but he was still incredibly nervous. Minutes before the show, among all the rush and flourish, he caught Jimmy and pulled him to the side, apologizing to a couple of sound guys securing some cables on the ground.

“How are you doing?” he blurted out.

“I’ll die, but maybe in a good way. You?”

“Same. Or I’ll throw up, in a bad way.”

“Wait really?”

“No, I’m sick, but not the vomiting kind.”

“Anxiety! Welcome to the club!” Jimmy shouted as he was being ushered away under the stage so he could come up on a platform.

More pushing, more ushering, and he stood next to Rowan.

Their intro – a dramatic organ solo as light flashed through the artificial fog like sunbeams – was rumbling all around them. The crowd was losing their minds. He didn’t know how, but he still heard Rowan whisper:

“Lister, promise me you won’t do the other thing today!”

“Told you I won’t, stop being patronizing!” he snapped back, but then it was their time, and they were on a stage, coming up from behind Jimmy, each on every side, acting astonished as they supposedly came down from Noah’s Ark onto new land.

Listed dared to put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder as they did so.

The show was on.

Here we go.

JIMMY

During the concert, he used every opportunity to interact with the audience that he had. It felt a bit manipulative at first – he wanted them to be up for a bit of talking, eventually – but then the feeling of guilt faded away. However complicated his relationship with the fans used to be, these people were the fans. They stayed loyal to them, they kept their music in their hearts, and came to this revival gig…

It would be okay, okay, okay.

When the last accords of the last song whizzed away into the night and he was thanking the crowd that stomped and cheered and waved signs in hope of an encore… he stopped at the front of the stage. Rowan strummed a few last cords on the guitar and fell silent.

He wished he had somewhere to sit down. His legs were shaking.

But he was not afraid. Not really.

“Now, you guys, these shows are very special for us. Because every single one of you, as we’re standing here and looking at each other, you have been waiting for so long…” His voice was drowned out by cheers. “For so long, you have not forgotten us, you came to our shows, you have been amazingly supportive, and I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart!” He shouted the last few words as the sea of faces roared in joy.

When they calmed down again, he continued. “And because you are the ones that stuck with us… because of that, I would like to say a few things to you.

If you know about the days of my youth…” Pause as people laughed and shouted affirmations at him. “…you would probably remember that I was presumed to be in a relationship with a person that is standing on the stage with me, right now.”

It was good that only a few people cheered. But it made him sick to the stomach, still.

“Okay, no,” Rowan came in, and people applauded, and he pointed at them with a not-so-fake scolding look, “no, no, don’t you woo at me, young lady. This is so utterly not a thing! Jimmy has never left the friendzone!”

“Same here,” Jimmy laughed and patted Rowan across the back, maybe a little too hard, overcompensating. “Did you all, like, miss that Rowan came out as straight all those years ago?”

People were laughing. Nobody really cared, they just found it funny. Rowan claimed he was leaving it to Jimmy before “the PR team has me taken out”, and retreated a few steps, leaving Jimmy to face the crowd again.

Deep breaths, he told himself.

“What I wanted to say was that there was one thing that those people back then got right.” Breathe in, breathe out. “I am gay.”

Two seconds of silence and then an absolute thunderstorm of an applause. A rainbow pride flag landed at his feet and Jimmy took it, with meek laughter, and put it around his shoulders. He heard Rowan cheer and clap too, and for what felt like years, he couldn’t get a word in. He wished the whole world could be like this.

“I – gosh, thank you all, I’m not sure whether it was a surprise,” he finally managed to say, his voice breaking a little from surprise, “but yeah. I am a trans, gay man…” The hall exploded with joyous noise. “…and it’s not all that there is to me, but I’m here. And queer. Hello.”

He thought he was going to pass out. He had a clever segway prepared, but he couldn’t remember a word of it. This was the moment. He wanted to say it, but at the same time… How could he? It was so hard, why do things have to be so hard?

“The other… the second thing,” he said, gripping the pride flag. “It is that… wow, it’s hard. It’s that I am…” He felt himself turn around, and like a lost child call: “Lister?”

Lister climbed out from behind the drum set instantly. Nobody cheered, there were only confused whispers. Jimmy looked at him, asking for help without words, and he knew, as he always did. Jimmy found a place to look, above the crowd, beyond everything, as Lister stepped in and slowly took his hand.

“The second thing is that we are together,” Lister said, his voice steady.

And the crowd lost it.

There were people wailing in happy tears. Screaming at the top of their lungs. A dissonance of chanting their names, all at a different rhythm, before Rowan ran up to them and hugged them and spurred the crowd on, and they stood there wrapped in a pride flag, and Jimmy was kind of crying and leaning on Lister, and it was another half an hour of a pure mess, before they really left the stage with their ears buzzing and eyes wide.

Jimmy and Lister tumbled into a corner somewhere, and Jimmy had happy tears streaming down his cheeks and they were kissing and holding each other and shaking.

“Oh, I’m such a mess,” Jimmy laughed as he was smearing tears and foundation on his sleeve.

“And I love you so much,” Lister blurted out in a moment of raw honesty.

“Me too,” Jimmy took one of his hands and kissed the palm. “I love you so fucking much it’s unreal sometimes.”

LISTER

This was, hands down, the most jittery Lister got before a show. Ever.

Currently, he found himself sat at an old sofa in the dressing room, hands clasped and both legs involuntarily jumping up and down. Was it annoying? Likely. But he had to let his knees jump in such a vigorous way because if he hadn’t, his teeth might start clattering.

He hated that he couldn’t just be pumped and excited. He had to feel this unsettling, buzzing mess of an emotion. Anxiety, as Jimmy informed him. This is what it’s like for an anxious person, he said… except make it all the time and often for no real reason.

Lister shook his head a little.

His reason, too, was basically nothing. He knew. As if Jimmy would actually reject him or something…

Or would he?

Maybe he could? Oh God, maybe he could…

“Hey! You’re actually scaring me, what’s up with you?!”

Lister blinked in confusion. He saw Jimmy as he was making his way over. A half scolding, half worried look decorated his face.

He lowered his voice when he added: “The last time I saw you like this was when you had withdrawal symptoms. You can tell me if that’s what it is.”

“It’s not that. I’m fine,” Lister insisted. Crap, he was panicking too hard to actually come up with anything convincing. Come on, Bird, focus… He’s onto you…

“Actually,” Rowan’s voice travelled to them from the corner, “I just think we had weird coffee.”

“What? But you’re fine.”

“Yeah, well,” Rowan continued to make up a story, “we both got one, but I didn’t like the taste, it was too strong. Lister felt bad for throwing them out so he finished both of them, didn’t you?”

“Ye-Yes,” he finally caught on. Had to admit, Ro was impressive at this. Lister started to believe what their friend used to say: that he can lie very well, he just chooses not to. “I didn’t want to waste it. The coffee.”

“Lister,” Jimmy grunted in disbelief, hands on his hips. “That was a brilliant idea, you walnut! Look at yourself, you’re gonna be sick now!”

“I’m not.”

“You look it.”

“I’m just…” He rubbed his clammy hands together. “I’m just anxious I guess.”

“Well, no shit. Why do you think I avoid caffeine?” Jimmy sighed and dropped into a squat in front of Lister. He took Lister’s hands in his. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not gonna have a heart attack, are you?”

“No, babe. I’m alright.” The last thing he wanted was for his boyfriend to be anxious too.

He looked down at Jimmy. The realization dawned on him, as he noticed that his partner dropped onto one of his knees to be more comfortable; very soon, the roles will be reversed. It will be Lister down on one knee, only Jimmy would be standing up in that case…

Okay.

Wow.

This is what true internal screaming felt like.

“You need water, as in now,” Jimmy decided and jumped up. “I’ll need you to drink at least three glasses before we start, that should help.”

He rushed out of the room to get hands on some water. Rowan and Lister looked at each other, the pretence gone.

“Alright?” Rowan nodded.

“I’m fucking choking, dude,” Lister replied.

It almost looked as if his friend was going to give him advice, or maybe say something generic and calming… but instead, Rowan let out a small laugh. Lister’s lips started twisting without him giving the command.

And then the two collapsed laughing. The pressure of this being the very last show and the knowledge of what Lister was about to do at the end of it were just the right recipe for hysterics.

Jimmy didn’t bother to ask twice what the joke was, as long as they promised they weren’t laughing at him.

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

As the concert was coming to an end and the crowd was cheering and chanting for an encore, Rowan seized the opportunity and called: “Alright, friends, we would like to indulge you in a little experiment! Can you join me at the front, Lister?”

Lister got out from behind the drum set and jogged to meet the rest of the group. Jimmy smiled, but his eyes studied both of them suspiciously. “What is this?”

Lister lazily raised his arms with the palms of his hands towards the crowd. “I have to admit, we kind of didn’t tell Jimmy what this is about. Sorry, my guy.” People laughed. Rowan signalled someone backstage, as Lister added: “But just so you don’t feel left out, you can have this triangle.” A nervous assistant handed Jimmy the instrument and ran off again.

Everybody was jeering and whistling, but there was an air of anticipation in the air.

“Oh wow, that’s generous of you,” Jimmy grimaced.

“I know, right? Anyhow.” Lister took a step forward, trying to calm himself. He could do this. He had acting jobs, he could absolutely pull this off.

He was Lister freaking Bird! He was the fan favourite!

“Dear audience, allow me to tell you a tale,” he addressed the crowd in his best narrator voice. A couple of screams rose from the crowd, but everyone else was listening intently. Behind him, Rowan started strumming a little melody on his guitar – one they created especially as a backdrop to Lister’s talk.

“I know this is a little unusual,” Lister admitted to the sea of people, “I know that you’re used to stories coming to you via this man’s voice,” he pointed at Jimmy, “and this man’s lyrics.” Rowan. “I know that I am just a simple drummer in this arrangement. But today, I will do the voice and the words. Because, well… Talking all the time is the one thing I am actually good at.”

That made the crowd laugh. Good. Great.

“But now, on with the story!” he exclaimed and made a motion with his hands as if he was showing them a canvas.

“Picture this. We are all fifteen, stuffed into a tiny studio in London,” he smiled, as if nostalgic. His voice flowed out of him in a steady melody, like the hum of a river. “We all had that awkward long hair phase – yes, I see some true veterans in the audience today. Good,” he smiled at a couple of girls in the front who seemed to know exactly which haircuts he meant. He raised his hands again. “I am sitting outside the recording room, behind the glass. On the other side, there’s Jimmy. I can see him clearly, I hope you can too,” he said, keeping his dreamy smile. “The giant black hoodie. The fringe almost hiding his eyes. Jimmy waits for the cue, bouncing up and down,” he chuckled as he swayed up and down on his toes, “and then starts singing the interlude in our first album. It’s only about two lines that we need to record, but I remember wishing it lasted longer. Obviously. Because his voice is amazing.”

The audience started yelling and swooning at once. Lister was honestly more okay looking at them than if he had to look at Jimmy and see what his reaction is.

Now, here comes the real cliché.

“But then,” he paused with real embarrassment in his voice, “then he looked up from under his hair… at me, with those big brown eyes… and asked me, if he was okay.”

Breathe in, and:

“My friends, that was the moment I have fallen for Jimmy Kaga-Ricci.”

A roar of screams started rising from the audience, when Rowan strummed dramatically on the guitar, as if something tragic had happened. Lister shot a look at Jimmy and found him laughing. Surprised, but amused.

Thank fuck. I’ve never told him that before.

On the outside, he theatrically turned to Rowan and scolded him: “I was just getting sentimental here?”

Rowan shrugged and strummed a more positive jingle. Everyone laughed and clapped. Lister was starting to enjoy this, actually. He sighed and walked forward onto a prolonged platform where Jimmy was usually stood on.

“Well, maybe my trusty assistant was right with the sound effects,” he admitted jovially. “Because my crush absolutely did not like me back for years. Hey, but that’s not to throw shade at the guy,” he added quickly to prevent any pitiful reaction that would make Jimmy feel bad. “Because you have to consider that I was and still am a bloody mess of a person.” That amused the listeners. Lister turned round, as he exclaimed. “I am the creator of problems, the maker of terrible decisions. We can all agree that Jimmy is a lovely lad…” He had to pause for the overwhelming reaction in support of that statement. “Yes, he is, but inflicting my teenage self upon him, that would just not be right.”

Jimmy suddenly clanked the metal stick against the triangle in an absolute cacophony to draw attention to himself. “Excuse me,” he called to Lister, “could you stop insulting yourself? I would enjoy that.”

A girl somewhere below them screamed as if she was getting murdered. They exchanged a quick glance, as if to say a little yikes, but then Lister laughed it off.

“Sorry, sorry,” he continued. “Through it all, Jimmy was always here for me. He was one of my first real friends. He was understanding when I needed it most, and ready to kick my ass when I needed it most.” He smiled at his boyfriend and hoped his voice is not shaking. “Look at you, Jimmy! I’m being embarrassing in front of hundreds of people and you still haven’t walked off stage.”

Jimmy laughed and lightly hit the triangle. He was ever the professional, but his eyes glimmered in curiosity. Expectation.

Lister kept looking at him. Rowan was strumming a slightly different melody now, and if Lister did say so himself, the atmosphere was fucking perfect.

“What I want to say is…, I feel that we were together before we got together. We were always partners. A great team. Maybe you wouldn’t think the same,” he admitted to Jimmy, “but a girl can dream. Oh! A rhyme!” He exclaimed to a symphony of awwws and ooohs. People were laughing again, clapping here and there. “That will be the only time!” Lister made a face of feigned shock. “Or not? Wow, I’m unpredictable!”

“You’re hot,” Jimmy rhymed with unexpected confidence.

The crowd was screaming their heads off at this interaction. Even Lister was a little flustered. He came back to his bandmates and gestured toward Jimmy, who was still smirking a little. “And he can improv, what’s not to like, honestly!”

Now, there came the challenge. Lister took a deep breath and prayed to all deities that were listening for this to come off as more sweet than cringy.

His voice fell into a different rhythm. One he kept studying every possible minute from any good slam poetry or original poem reading he could find online.

“But now, if our audience permits,” he put one hand on his chest, turning directly to Jimmy, “I would like to address you. Because, dear Jimmy, although I love each face in the crowd, my friends, my family, those that are both… I can state loud and proud that the biggest part of my heart goes to you.” He grinned sheepishly at Jimmy’s stunned expression, when he added: “If not all of it.”

“I can only guess what goes on in that mind, whether you think this is suspicious or kind… I can’t know these things. But there is one thing I do know. That no matter how much we grow, what we lose and what we gain, through all the smiles and all the pain, I will love you. It’s as big and as small as this. And today was an opportunity I couldn’t miss. So, nobody panic, stay in your seats. It’s not what it looks like.”

He got down on one knee in front of his boyfriend.

Jimmy gasped in sync with the audience: “Lister!” He backed away.

“Oh no, mister, don’t panic,” Lister retorted. That managed to amuse Jimmy a little – that he would know this would be the reaction. The audience was still going absolutely wild. Another pride flag just about missed Lister’s left ear.

“As I said, it’s not what it looks like. And I’m sick of rhyming by now, so…” He reached for Jimmy’s hand. Pulled it down to his by the triangle and encouragingly pressed a thumb into his palm. “I wanted to tell you – in a way that means something – that I don’t see myself living my life with anyone but you. So I have a question. Can you imagine me proposing in the near future?”

Jimmy looked like he suddenly couldn’t speak any human language. The only thing that came from his open lips was: “Huh?”

He was trying not to panic. To explain it well. Better than he had to Rowan.

“I would like to start talking about marriage. With you. I’m asking your permission to… go pick out a ring, perhaps. And propose to you. One day.”

“You want to…” He was trying so hard to make sense of this situation. Lister could almost hear the wheels in his brain clanking and whirring. After a second, Jimmy blurted out about the last thing Lister expected. “You really want to marry me?”

He had to laugh. That sounded so bizarre! You have the wrong number, I don’t think you want to marry me, of all people. As if.

Covering Jimmy’s hand with both of his own, he answered: “Who else, Jimmy?”

As there was no instant reply, Lister felt the audience grow impatient.

This was the time to smooth things out. Make it amusing.

“Okay, I don’t want to stress you out. You can just think about it,” he ensured his partner. But I just wanted to let you know my, er, intentions.” Wow, great choice of words, Bird. But was there any better? He decided to make fun of himself a little when he sarcastically added: “Because this is the regency era, apparently.”

People were losing it. However, Lister was only looking at Jimmy now… and realized that the eyes of his boyfriend were welling up with tears as he looked down. Were they happy or sad tears? Shit.

“Oh…” Lister managed to say, when Jimmy dropped the triangle on the floor with a thud and shakily took Lister’s face into his soft palms.

His voice was trembling with emotion, as he answered:

“Allister Bird, I would love to marry you. I don’t think you even need to propose again.”

Before Lister could even register what he meant, Jimmy leaned down and gently pressed a kiss at his forehead. This was probably as close to kissing in public as Jimmy would ever allow.

Lister finally realized. He realized.

At the same time, Jimmy dropped down and Lister shot up. They embraced each other tightly, a mess of crumpled clothes and limbs and teary laughing, and Lister almost lifted Jimmy off the ground as he was happy-crying into the shorter man’s shoulder.

They heard Rowan screaming at the top of his lungs: “HE SAID YES, PEOPLE!” His voice was drowned out by the massive storm of excited screams that wouldn’t seize for good twenty minutes after.

But Lister and Jimmy didn’t really pay attention.

Paradoxically, although everyone could see them – and everyone would see them, as the news probably already travelled through the internet at the speed of light – it felt like this moment was theirs alone.

#osemanverse #osemanverse fanfic #alice oseman #jimmy kaga ricci #lister bird #bicci #rowan omondi #angel rahimi #oc #bicci proposal #i was born for this #iwbft #the ark #older ark #older au #proposal #engagement #grand gesture #fanfiction

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babbushka · 3 years

Note

Thank you doing a sinday!!!!

From the physical affection prompts, kissing someone’s face all over, lifting them out of affection, and play wrestling. Mayb I please these with Flip? Maybe after not seeing each other for a few days because he was stuck on a case? Anything really, I just picture an excited, playful, sexy reunion, but anything you picture will be perfect!

(1.1k, no warnings, just fluff!)

Flip’s on his third cigarette, watching the board. His arms are crossed, his cowboy boot is tap-tap-tapping on the waxed floors of Colorado Springs Airport. Flanked by Ron and Jimmy, they scan the board to figure out where the hell they’re going to have to race to meet you. Huffing and puffing smoke, they wait and watch the board, until Ron’s hand smacks down on Flip’s shoulder and he points.

“Flight 4281 has landed in gate G!” He says like they’ve just won the lotto, and like a racehorse hearing the gunshot, Flip begins at once to move.

Jimmy has to grab him by the back of his Sherpa jacket with an exasperated chuckle and a cigarette puff of his own, and Flip gives him a dirty glare, wondering why the hell he stopped him.

“Calm down, she still has to get through baggage claim.” Jimmy explains, much to Flip’s dissatisfaction.

“But I miss her.” Flip grumbles out the understatement of the century with a frown, and it’s in that moment that both Ron and Jimmy realize they forgot just how annoying he could be when you weren’t around.

This was one of the rare occurrences where you left town on business, and Flip didn’t accompany you. And the only reason he didn’t accompany you was because he was stuck dealing with shit of his own; a case that under no circumstances could handle three days of absence. Just about every other time, he went with you, because if he didn’t…well, he was like this.

Irritable, impatient, snappish, sarcastic – but turned up to eleven.

“She left Friday, it’s Monday now.” Ron tries gently to remind Flip that it wasn’t in fact the end of the world, or that a year had passed, trying to figure out for himself how Flip dealt with his two tours in Vietnam without you (he can only grasp how miserable that must have been, by comparison of these three days of hell).

“So? A man can’t miss his wife?” Flip smokes and smokes anxiously, deciding that he doesn’t care if you have to go through baggage claim yet, he can meet you at baggage claim. So off he goes, with Ron and Jimmy hot on his heels as he continues under his breath, “Bad enough I have to sit in the station with you fuckers all day and miss her, but at least when I come home she’s there.”

“Aw what, we ain’t scintillating enough company for you?” Jimmy asks half-way jokingly, knowing what the answer is going to be so confidently that he could have bet money on it:

“No, not compared to her you aren’t.”

Flip doesn’t even bother to turn and look over his shoulder to deliver the remark, too antsy, wanting you back in his arms again. They’ve descended to the baggage claim area, and he scans the carousels for your flight number, holding lungfulls of nicotine to try and calm him.

Flip did not fly well. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t trust it – not after the shit he saw in the war. He prefers to be firmly planted on the ground, thank you very much, and not even a first class ticket like the one he set you up on was comforting enough for him. Flip wouldn’t be calm until he knew for a fact that you had both firmly on the ground too.

It’s Ron’s eagle eye once again that spots you, and much like with the board, he smacks Flip and points, letting out an excited, “I see her!”

Flip meets your eyes from across the crowded baggage claim, his height allowing him to look over a sea of businessmen and vacationers, and you throw up a hand that he meets with a big cheesing smile. This time when Flip bolts, neither Ron nor Jimmy hold him back, letting the two of you reunite after a weekend away.

“You know, we shoulda had a sign for her or something, like they do in the movies.” Jimmy says to Ron, who can’t help but think that there’s no point when Flip’s as tall as he is.

“(Y/N)!” Flip cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, running running running to you, pinching out his cigarette and throwing it out on his way, not once breaking speed.

“Philly!” You call his name right back, bright laughter and joy lighting up your whole face, as you run in your pretty heels straight to him.

Not one to abandon your nice matching set of luggage that Flip had given you for your birthday a few years ago, you wait until you’re only a few feet apart to drop it from your hands and be scooped up by your husband. Flip picks you up and twirls you around, smothering your face with kisses that have you laughing.

“There’s my girl, goddamn aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Flip hasn’t put you down yet, and he’s not so sure he ever will again, not with the way your arms are looped around his neck and you’ve managed to capture his lips with your own.

If anyone were paying any attention, they might’ve thought it had been months and months since you’ve last seen one another. It certainly felt like it, Flip thinks with a big sigh of relief, a gentle moan of satisfaction swallowed down by a chuckle of your own.

Eyes closed, the both of you indulge in a passionate kiss for a moment or two, and for a second, the airport slips away. Gone are the intercom announcements and overlapping conversations around you, the sweet hum of your happiness against Flip’s tongue replaced in its stead.

You’re the first one to pull away, simply for the fact that you missed him too, and now that you’re together again, you don’t want to waste any time talking to him.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I was about to go searching for a payphone but – ”

“Of course I’m here, you didn’t think I’d let you take a cab home, did you?” He kisses your cheek before picking up your luggage, smacking at your hand playfully when you try to beat him to it.

“I just thought you’d be at work still.” You explain, beaming up at him with lovesick eyes, nearly missing Ron and Jimmy altogether. It’s then that you notice them, and you greet them with kisses on the cheek, and it dawns on you that, “Oh my god, you’re still on the clock, aren’t you?”

“Bridges thinks we’re gathering intel.” Ron winks at you, making you laugh and shake your head, hoping that they don’t get in trouble for playing hooky.

“You’re all terrible, but thank you for the warm welcome home.” You can’t help but smile, before turning to your husband and winding an arm around his thick waist, winking at him with a little whisper, “Now take me back to the house and show me how much you missed me.”

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman/you #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman imagine #adam driver fanfic #adcu

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yeojaa · 4 years

Note

wait !!!! find her jk with that prompt the other anon sent!!! can u plssss that’s literally something find her jk would actually do🥺🥺🥺🥺

[ read finders keep hers ]

pairing. jjk x (named) f!reader. rating. general. tags. idiots in love. like, that’s all there is to say. angst central, my dude. wc. 2.4k. author note. i meant to make this short and end with some tender lovemaking but... i cannot be trusted near a keyboard so you get this word vomit instead. xoxo!

You love Jeon Jungkook. Have, you think, since before you knew what the word love meant.

(Maybe since you were children and you’d still stood a chance against him, bursting with pride from a job well done, young enough that your parents’ kind words felt better than anything in the world. Before he’d turned into the president of the Casanova Club and he’d just been your and your brother’s best friend. Little Jeon with the unbelievably big eyes, always so curious about everything.

Or maybe since your tenth grade White Day, when he’d bought you your favourite candies and pressed them unceremoniously into your hands, too many to hold so they fall to dirt and tumble around you. He’d stooped to snatch them all up, shoving them into the pockets of your coat. “Because we’re best friends or whatever,” he’d said with this toothy, silly smile.

More likely during university. That time you’d maybe (read: very) foolishly made out, liquor fueling the tangle of your limbs and how utterly good he felt within them, a nectarine dream in his brand new G Wagon. You’d thought he’d laugh in your face, mumble something about no, we can’t - which he had - but he’d also taken you home, tucked you in and climbed in beside your inebriated self.

Definitely once you’d started seeing each other, spending more time in his bed than anywhere else. It’d been nearly impossible to separate head from heart, falling deeper and deeper into the Jungkook-shaped black hole that seemed to eclipse everything else. You’d fallen head over stupid heels, leaving bits of yourself hidden among his things. Your lip balm in his trouser pocket, perfume on the collar of his favourite turtleneck, shape of your mouth alongside monogrammed initials.

You hadn’t meant to.

Love him, that is. It’d simply happened in between all the laughter, the eye rolls, the smiles. Threaded between each action and cemented by the thud of your heart, beat into the ground like a drum.)

Sometimes, though, you don’t like him. Oftentimes, in fact.

You and Jungkook are as different as can be.

You’re in business development at a tech firm; he’s the technically unemployed son of a real estate mogul. You invest most of your money; he spends his as if it’ll never run out (which it likely won’t). You grew up with an older brother; he’s got two younger sisters. You drink to celebrate, to wind down; he drinks to prove a point. You believe in love - have to, looking at your parents and feeling how you do about him; he knows it exists but up until recently, had zero interest in it.

You wonder still, seated at the table with your group of friends and their partners, whether that still rings true. (Deep down, you know it doesn’t. You know he loves you, wants you in a way he’s never wanted anyone else before, but your brain is a fickle thing, playing tricks when it shouldn’t.)

Would he be happier without you? Better off without you?

Your thoughts mock you - just as he does, roguish smile turning his entire expression into sunshine. Inescapable, all-encompassing, so blinding it’s almost hard to look at. Trained on the girl he’s chatting up at the bar.

This is what Jungkook does. What he’s always done. You should be used to it, really. The man’s charm is always turned up to eleven, always in full effect even when he doesn’t mean it to be. It’s simply part of who he is- young and rich and devastatingly, heartbreakingly handsome.

Still, you can’t help the emotion that swells somewhere deep in your stomach, jostles the meal you’ve just had and turns your insides into a sea of nausea. You know when he’s just being friendly and you know when he’s flirting. It’s a terribly thin line but one you recognise, intimately familiar with the two sides of his personality.

Right now, he’s flirting. Doing that thing he does, one arm folded on the counter top, unblemished hand resting somewhere along his hip, silver of his rings acting as a beacon beneath the dim restaurant lights. His other hand slots itself into the pocket of his coated jeans, tattoos thrown into stark contrast against his skin and the black of the denim. There’s that smile of his, more a smirk but sunny, radiant, beautiful. It lights up his entire face, steeping his expression in something warm. The dimple in his cheek winks with each laugh - you can only imagine the one on the other side does the same, cut deeply into his skin.

Don’t be mad, you tell yourself. He’s your Jungkook, bad habits and all.

You love him. You love him. You love him.

If he notices your stoicism, he doesn’t comment on it. Doesn’t ask what’s wrong or if you’re okay or what’s up. Barely even speaks to you, save to toss his arm around your shoulder and tug you close, practically tug you into his lap while his friends share stories of their week.

It’s your usual Friday night dinner. Something you’ve done with this ragtag group for as long as you’ve known them. An excuse to go out and drink and eat some damn good (and often free) food.

You wish you could enjoy it like you normally do. Instead, you’re preoccupied by the way a perfume that isn’t yours lingers on his collar - seeps beneath the fabric and marks him up like a possession. It’s too sweet - cloying sugar apples and coconut - nothing like your usual earthy wisteria and dewy rose. It stings your nose when you inhale too deeply, nestled into the familiar shape of Jungkook’s frame, settled between the vertebrae you know best.

You hardly notice when he does speak to you, rousing you from thought you can’t quite place any longer.

“Ready to head home?”

The rest of your friends are going about their business, slipping their coats on and exchanging ideas for plans the following morning. (Saturday brunch is a very popular thing, though it tends to lean late lunch versus true breakfast-brunch.)

You nod and slip from beneath your lover’s arm, plucking your purse up as you rise. You’re ready to get out of here, ready to scrub away the melancholy that lingers like a thin film across your skin.

He must have realised sometime between your silence in the car and your lacklustre kisses in the elevator. You think he must, as he nearly slams the front door of his penthouse shut, kicks off his Chelsea boots and lets them tumble together just off the welcome mat. (Not the reaction you’d expected, but you’ve learnt to never expect anything from him. As much as he might be your best friend, Jeon Jungkook plays by his own set of rules.)

He doesn’t wait for you to undo your own shoes, carefully undoing the straps of your Jimmy Choos and setting them where they belong before you follow the sound of his footsteps.

When you find him, he’s stripping off his jacket and tossing it haphazardly across the back of his desk chair, keys and wallet and phone dropped none-too-gently upon wood. He says nothing even as he crosses to his closet, steps inside and slips off each piece of jewellery: assorted rings and his Rolex - everything but the bracelet you’d gotten him for graduation.

His belt goes next, set back within the confines of its velvet lined drawer. Through the hole goes the button of his jeans, down goes the zipper, and then he’s in nothing but his vaguely sheer dress shirt, boxer-briefs, and silly printed socks (yellow bananas on black fabric, for reasons), looking every inch the adonis he is.

You still haven’t said a word, carefully hanging your dress in the small space you’ve carved out for yourself. You don’t really know what to say - how to approach his apparent frustration when you don’t know where it comes from.

Is he upset with you? Had you, somewhere along the line of your own sadness, done something to upset him?

You’re running through all the scenarios, lost in thought, when his voice breaks the quiet. Snaps forth and hits its mark - a perfect shot. “Seriously?” There’s a fickle quality to his tone, a pettiness that you recognise when he hasn’t gotten his way, when he’s not quite sure what to say but knows he wants to have something. (It doesn’t come out often with you, but you’re intimately familiar with it still. His I-want-to-fight voice.)

“Pardon?” You’re not expecting him so close, close enough to reach you but far enough that you can tell he’s purposely put this distance between you. It feels strange - further apart than it is.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. When you speak, it’s full of confusion, paired with your brows gathering in a little knot of bewilderment. “Anything about what?”

“What happened at dinner.”

He sounds so utterly deadpan, you can’t help but laugh, a sound of disbelief rather than amusement.

“You mean you flirting with that girl?” Even saying the words feels awful, makes you want to crawl into bed and forget about it all.

Jungkook, on the other hand, looks like you’ve just handed him the answers to all of life’s questions. His entire face rearranges, all the pieces matching back up to form a proper puzzle. There’s a certain smugness to it now, caught in the round of his cheek and how it ticks higher with his grin. “So you did notice! I fucking knew it.”

“Of course I did.” You want to be appalled. Know you should be. (But it’s Jungkook and you love him.) “Kind of hard not to.”

He’s the devil in disguise, snapping you to him with a flex of his arms, hands curled around your waist. It’s clear he’s pleased, absolutely tickled pink that you’d fallen for his silly little trick. “Gotta keep you on your toes,” he croons, eyes twinkling, mouth wobbling with the strain of keeping his laughter hidden.

He expects you to agree - maybe roll your eyes and pat his cheek, laughs along with him and give him some sort of shit about how he’s an idiot - and visibly starts when you push yourself away, two palms flat against his chest.

“Sure.”

One word. Nothing like he’d imagined.

“Baby?” You’ve made it two steps - two whole steps, which is two too many to Jungkook - when he’s pulling you back, trapping you against his chest with his arms looped around your shoulders. “Where you going?” He’s kissing along your shoulder, trailing warmth everywhere he touches.

He still smells like that girl’s perfume.

“Can you get off me, please?” You’re more polite than you normally are, working hard to keep calm when he only tightens his grip. Of course he thinks you’re kidding, thinks you’re pouting and playing just like he had when you’d returned home.

When you repeat yourself - a little harder, a little quieter - he seems to realise how wrong he’s read the situation.

“Angel—” You’re swept around, left to stare into the neat white of his shirt as he peers down at you, waits for you to meet his eyes. You don’t, staunchly focused on the buttons of his Oxford, how they strain over his broad chest. “Baby.” Now he’s the one full of reprimand, disapproval colouring the single word that’s normally so sweet.

“What?” It’s just as bratty as he was earlier but somehow worse, touched blue.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook seems genuinely perplexed, concerned and maybe, just a tiny bit frustrated. He’s not used to you lashing out like this, soft and yet unyielding, hidden behind a door he’s fumbling with the keys to.

“You.”

“—me?”

You’re not one to throw out things you don’t mean, carefully picking and choosing your words. It’s something you’ve always done - far more responsible than your idiot best friend who’s never had to worry about a thing in his life.

The line of his mouth dips, pulls into a frown as he studies you and tries to crack open the windows to gain some insight. It doesn’t work well; he’s faced with a stone wall.

“Why’re you mad?”

You want to laugh. Do, actually, so short and abrupt it’s more of a scoff. “What’s wrong with me?” You’d pull away if you could. (Realistically, you could, but you’ve always been too soft for him.) “You spent almost all of dinner flirting with someone else.”

“Yeah— to make you jealous.” As if that makes it better. As if that doesn’t tear a giant hole right in the centre of your chest, launches your poor heart out of the airlock to fend for itself in the emptiness of his expression.

You don’t know why it feels worse to hear it out loud. You’d figured as much.

(Jungkook had done this in the past, though always jokingly. He’d rarely been invested enough in a girl to go to such lengths but you’d seen it once or twice. Always the age old adage of wanting what you can’t have.)

You wish you could separate the then from the now. Remind yourself that he does care, that this is his twisted, stupid way of showing his affection - of keeping you around. (You know he’s just as vulnerable as you - maybe more, sometimes - but he shows it poorly. Pushes you away when he tries to pull you in.)

Tears are welling, spilling across your lashes faster than you can yank them back. Something about being an angry crier.

“Good job,” you mean to snap, to make him feel how you do. (Small - so very, very small.) Instead, it’s terribly quiet. A whisper that gets lost to the cotton poplin. “Now I’m jealous.” And miserable and insecure. All things you usually aren’t, that only Jeon Jungkook manages to bring out in you.

“Baby,” he tries again, crushing you to his chest, jut of his chin resting atop your head. His hugs had always been your favourite - swallowing you whole, making you feel safe - but it’s too much now, a prison cell rather than your familiar bed. “I’m sorry.” He’s kissing again, stamping his affection into the dark of your hair, brushing over and over with the soft of his lips, his rounded adorable nose, “I thought—”

You know what he thought. Know where he’d been coming from (a place of immaturity, a gilded golden room with Jeon Jungkook stamped across the door) but it doesn’t make it any better.

Doesn’t make it hurt any less.

#anon.eml #bts #bts au #bts imagine #bts drabble #bts angst #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #incoming.eml #work.zip #drabble.zip #finders.doc #jungkook.doc

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jaeminscoffee · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Love

Pairings - Jung Jaehyun x reader

Genre - Pure fluff.

Warnings- None, But this is extreemmeellyyyy long.

Summary - Jaehyun loves spending his time and money for you every single day, guess how he'd be like on your birthday?

This oneshot was requested! ♡

Autumn.

The absolutely perfect weather to either stay in and cuddle up, or go out with your significant other.

You were so glad that your birthday falls in autumn, it's the perfect season, not too hot, not too cold, and not too lonely with Jaehyun beside you.

The minute you opened your eyes that morning, you saw Jaehyun, your boyfriend of over 2 years, leaning over your side with a tray full of English breakfast, all perfectly set, looking absolutely tempting.

"Happiest birthday, sleeping beauty" he said, an enthusiastic tone, as hearts basically flooded out of his gaze. He leaned forward, placing the tray full of food on the side table, sitting beside you and placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Oh my god thank you so much!" you tried sounding nearly as excited as he is, but your voice came off groggy as you'd just woken up.

“When did you even prepare all of this?” you question, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you sit up straight on the bed, head against the headboard.

“I made sure not to snooze my alarm this time” Jaehyun let out a chuckle, standing up, tilting his head slightly towards the bedside table pointing at the dish.” Freshen up and have your breakfast, babe. I’ll need to head out now’ He said, a frown forming his feature as you mirror his expression.

“Work?” he nods slowly, you let out a sigh.”I wanted to spend my birthday with you thougghh” you drag your words, reaching forward, holding his forearm is a tight grasp.

Jaehyun beams a smile at you, pulling you towards him using his other hand, keeping you closed in a tight embrace. “I’ll try coming back as fast as i can, i’m sorry” He dug his face into the nape of your neck, the feeling ticklish on your skin so you squirm. Pulling away, you know it isn’t the best idea to hold your boyfriend back from doing his job, but you really didn’t want to spend the day alone, and so you give him your best puppy eyes.

Jaehyun notices the way you were looking at him, cooing at you, squishing your cheeks between his palm. “They said it’s important”, He gave you one tight comforting squeeze, a kiss on the forehead and pulled away from your hold.

You whine but let him walk away nevertheless, not like you could do anything anyways,and he said it’s important. You watch Jaehyun, walk towards the closet, get a hoodie, pull it over his head and walk towards the bedroom, turning back waving one last time, walking out once you did the same.

After hearing the front door close, you fall back onto the mattress, reaching for your phone which was beside your pillow, turning it on to check for any notification. No, you weren’t all about wanting everyone to wish you, but you weren’t one to not want Anyone to wish you either.

So seeing only 2 of your girlfriends send you a dog meme and wish you, both made your day and made you grumpy.

Great, No Jaehyun, No friends, No nothing

You get out of bed, as the food your boyfriend made turned cold long ago, making your way towards the bathroom to get your day started, You open the drawer to take out your skin care products, where you see a black box, with a golden ribbon tied around it in a graceful bow, with a tiny red heart shaped tag tied to it,

You reach out for the box, examining it and then placing it down, removing the tag, reading whatever’s written on it.

‘Saw you ran out of most of your skin care products, got you the ones you always wanted, hope you like it 💕’

Your heart did a 360′ turn as you place the tag down, taking the box in your hand once again, carefully undoing the bow placing it on the basin counter, you open the box to see it filled with a bunch of papers, which you take out, discarding it in the trashcan. You find the box divided into two, filled with a bunch of the best products.

One side, they were the products from cosrx, one that you really wanted to get, but thought would be a waste of money because of it’s ridiculously high price. The other side contained products from Klairs, also ones that you wanted.

The smallest observation he made of you running out of your products, and keeping a mental note of your favorite products made you feel all warm inside.

You carefully arrange the products in the drawer, going out of the bathroom to place the tag in your bedside drawer, going back into the washroom to carry on with your morning routine.

After a long refreshing shower, you walk towards your closet to chose your clothes, when you find a bag at the very back, you don’t remember placing anything there, you’d swore you cleaned the closet not a week ago.

You walk towards it, taking the bag out from the secluded area of your closet, going back into the room to see what’s inside the bag.

You see ‘From Jaehyun, chosen by Taeyong and Johnny’ writing at the front of the bag. Not another present you sigh, chuckling to yourself.

You open the bag, to see a note inside it. ‘I better see you wearing this when i’m back home’

You remove yet another black box, this time, seeing the words Saint Laurent embedded into the cover of the box in beautiful silver. You keep in mind to scold Jaehyun later for buying such expensive stuff. But for now, you open the box, to see a really beautiful Yves Saint Laurent fall piece inside. Gawking at the simple yet pretty piet mondrian design, you walk towards the dresser, immediately discarding your towel, putting on the dress Jaehyun brought for you.

As conceited as it sounds, the piece looked absolutely dashing on you, you even did a double twirl in front of the mirror, totally loving Jaehyun’s.. well Taeyong and Johnny’s choice.

You sit in front of your dresser, opening the drawer to take out your make up products to doll yourself up matching the clothing that you wore. You felt like banging your head on the table as you were greeted with a white box inside of the drawing.

Another one of those tags you see, this time in pastel pink.

‘Best of all deserves the best of products’

You smile at nothing in particular, taking the note back to where the other 2 tags were kept, placing the third one neatly on top of the other two.

You open the box once you sat back down on the dresser, finding Urban decay’s spectrum eyeshadow palette, E.L.F blush palette, Anastasia’s Beverly Hills contour cream kit, and a set of MAC impassioned lipstick.

You felt overwhelmed with all the gift’s you’d found in just your room,now scared to leave the room.

Nevertheless, you used all the products he’d bought for you and did your make up, standing up once you’re satisfied with the look, grabbing the tray and making your way out of the room to heat it up and eat it.

Feeling bored, sitting there all dolled up, with nothing but the same movies repeating on the television, You decide to head out to the mall until late, knowing for a fact that Jaehyun had the spare keys with him so he wouldn’t be locked out. You check your phone once again, to see no notifications. You let out a sigh, making your way back into the closet, taking out a white cropped denim jacket to match the clothing, walking back out once you were happy with your outfit.

You go to the front of your house, after getting the sling bag Jaehyun had gifted you last week, to choose a shoes to match the outfit. You go weak in the knees, when you find another cover, Jimmy Choo written in Gold on the white packet, you already knew what you’d be opening.

‘Johnny said this would look stunning with that dress, but i said you’d look good in any shoe or clothing piece ;)’

The note read this time, you’re basically radiating positive energy now all dressed up with things your boyfriend got you without having you get to know about a single thing. The fourth note found it’s way to the other three. You take out the shoe bag, opening up to a romy 60 pumps, which had a golden designing towards the tip, it was such a show stealer as you stared at it, mouth wide opened.

After the moment of admiration, you slip it on, not even bothering to see the final look. You walk out of the house, with a bright smile on your face.

Maybe the day wouldn’t be as bad as you’d thought it would be.

The day passed by quick, you did not forget to thank your boyfriend for all the gifts he’d gotten you through text, for you to not get any reply back. The other members of his group hadn’t contacted you since morning either, weird from them as they’d been the ones to spam you for your last 2 birthdays.

You make your way towards the elevator, rummaging through your purse to get the keys out.

Reaching your floor you make your way towards the end of the corridor, where your house was situated at.

Your shared house wasn’t anything too fancy, it was extremely spacious, a little too spacious for only the two of you in the house, but Jaehyun's excuse for getting a big house was ‘The boys are for sure going to turn our apartment into their second house’ and so you couldn’t do anything but comply.

You turn the doorknob clockwise, opening the door wide open, humming soft tunes to yourself, closing the door behind you. Walking in a little further into the house to turn the light switch on.

You turn back around to remove your shoes, only to let out a loud scream as all eight of the boys, jumped out of literally nowhere scaring the life out of you.

“Happy Birthday Y/n!!!!” they scream out loud, opening champagne bottles on either sides of the room stood Johnny and Taeil, Popping open the confetti birthday poppers stood Mark, Haechan and Jungwoo, Yuta and Taeyong stood beside both Johnny and Taeil with a bunch of boxes, Doyoung stood in the middle of them all holding two large heart shaped helium balloons.

You started tearing up just a bit, overwhelmed as each of them discard things they held onto the floor or onto the table that was decorated with a bunch of food items, making their way towards you, taking turns in hugging you and wishing you the best of wishes you could’ve gotten on your birthday.

“Yo YO why are you cryinngg?” Mark asked, pulling you in for a second hug.

“Listen, princess we really wanted to wish you the first thing today morning, but two weeks prior today, Jaehyun came threatening us” Doyoung started.

“Oh god yes i remember him saying something along the lines like ‘Spoil the surprise i’ll make you write your names with your nose blood’ boy was that scary” Jungwoo added.

“Jaehyun basically kidnapped Taeyong and i to come help pick presents for you, i see my fashion choice is still the best” Johnny stated, playfully checking you out with a smirk on his face.

“Thank you so much” you say between your crying state, laughing as the boys continued whining about how Jaehyun bullied them over your birthday for 2 weeks jokingly.

“You see those boxes Taeyong and I were holding? Those are all from Jaehyun, ours is still in the backseat of our cars” Yuta huffs out, shaking his head at the amount of money he spent on one of your birthdays.

“Here comes Mr.Lover Boy!!” You hear Haechan scream, cutting you off even before you could speak, as you look back to see Taeil and Haechan holding a huge banner with a bunch of words, standing by the entrance of your apartment.

You start reading it, to be stopped and asked to start over again, but louder.

“Dear Y/n, the one who makes my busy days go so much slower, a lot more calmer and definitely a little better, Happiest birthday, my love. Waking up to your peaceful face, clears all bad thoughts from my head, you looking absolutely ethereal in the most minimal things you do makes me smile a lot brighter, Your tiny complains when i leave you melts me completely, your smile sweeps me of my feet. The one thing i want to tell you, You were, are and will forever be the reason of my happiness.-” The boys all hooted, whistling even, when both Haechan and Taeil lowered the banner, to Jaehyun standing there with the biggest smile on his face, a cake in his hand.

“I love you, Y/n” he said the moment he was fully on display “ And i wouldn’t want to imagine a life without you” he handed the cake to Jungwoo who stood beside you.

Pulling you in, wiping the continuously flowing tears from your cheeks as the boys kept cheering. He pulled you in for a long loving kiss, the cheers getting louder with every passing second, Pulling away once the both of you ran out of breath.

Jaehyun held you close, looking at you while holding the entire galaxy in his eyes, the smile revealing his dimples.

“Happy Birthday, Love”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Smalltown Bringdown 1

Warnings: blood, violence, more to be added.

This is dark!biker!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live in a smalltown run by a biker club. When your boss gets into debt, you find yourself drawn into the crossfire.

Note: Yesterday I tried writing Sugar, Sugar. That didn’t work out. I had a migraine on Monday that I’m still tiptoeing around. I wrote this a week ago but wanna continue it. Well, if there’s any interest in my doing so. So to those who take the time to read, thank you. Love you guys!

Please, leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

Birch was a small town, named for the line of pale tree at its heart. The streets were built around it. It had stood for centuries like a guardian over residents. Like a harbinger of their eventual fates. White as a ghost, looming like the reaper.

And death lived in Birch. It rode the streets on iron steeds. The apocalyptic horseman roaring down the roads in leather. Oblivion was the bar on the main road.; The Asp was a remnant of the town’s birth. An inn for those who claimed to discover this “new world”. Cleopatra reclined along the sign’s moniker, a snake around her arm, poised to sink its long fangs in her throat.

Further down was the Chipped Saucer. The British were the first Europeans to settle here and when they supped with the Natives, they found their dishware cracked from their long journey. The tale outlived those early townsfolk painted across the window of sleepy old diner. The history of the forgotten town was long remembered because there, time didn’t seem to move very fast.

The town was more purgatory than hell. Few ever escaped it. You were among the trapped. A waitress in an aged yellow uniform and frilly white apron at the old diner. Sundays were busiest. The older folk were hungry after the weekly service and the younger residents were trying to caffeinate their hangovers.

You did your round of refills and returned the carafe to the machine. You took your time replacing the filter and adding the grounds. The rusted jingle of the bell above the door barely registered in your head. But the decisive stomp of boots did. Not just one set, not two, but more than you could count. You looked up as you closed the lid on the machine.

The diners sat frozen as if in a tableau. Not a single breath was drawn as you watched the leather-coated men walk between the tables. You didn’t need to see the patches on their backs to know who they were. Everyone knew who they were because they owned everything and everyone. The police, the town council, the mayor, and any who called Birch home.

Every small town has its dark secrets but the club had never really been a secret. The Howling Commandos had reigned since the boys returned from the war in 1945. Since, their mantle had been taken up by sons, nephews, cousins. Those glory days loomed as if it were only yesterday that the newspapers declared victory in Europe! Victor in Japan! Korea! Vietnam! Iraq!

You skirted behind the counter as Lillian, the oldest of the waitresses, stood by the kitchen window. Artie, the cook, neared the other side and gave a grunt at the bikers kicking around the diner.

“From what I heard,” He said loud enough for them to hear. “They serve hash down at The Asp, don’t they?”

“Artie,” Lillian hissed under her breath as she touched her immense bosom.

The diners, the servers, the bus boys, all exhaled in communal dismay. Mr. Elrich watched as Danny, the boy he’d once taught, took his mug of coffee and emptied it in a single gulp.

“Where’s Jimmy?” A golden-haired man stepped forward.

You knew him. Knew of him. He had been a few years ahead of you in school. He was held back and sat beside you in math and copied off your tests. Steve Rogers was too much trouble for a browner like you.

“Jimmy’s out,” Artie waved his spatula. “Can’t you see these people are tryna enjoy their breakfast?”

“Jimmy’s out,” Steve repeated slowly as he neared the counter. “Well, that’s a first. I always thought he slept off his Saturday nights in his office. Least I always found him half-asleep at his desk. Definitely wasn’t working.”

“You come back later when he’s in,” Artie shook his head. “Goddamn, boy, my eggs are burning.”

“Artie,” Lillian and several other waitresses wailed at him.

“How long you worked here, Art?” Steve was close. You could smell the leather and smoke as he passed you. His hand was on the door as he glared at Art through the window.

“Be thirty years, soon enough,” Artie answered defiantly. “Since you were a kid tossing your pancakes at the wall, you brat.”

Steve chuckled and pushed through the door. Several women screamed and men shushed them at the flurry that followed. The crash of pans as Steve grabbed the old man by his collar and pushed him against the window. You stepped through the door before it swung shut.

“Don’t.” You pleaded. “Don’t hurt him. Jimmy’s not here. None of us have seen him since yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve shrugged you away. “Loyalty is admirable. The man pays your check, so I understand your insistence on protecting him. I only wish he was as diligent in paying his dues.”

“St-stop,” You squealed as he his hand wrapped around Artie’s thick throat. “Goddamnit, you know Artie. You know he means no harm.”

“I know he’s always had a mean mouth,” Steve snarled. “Where’s that spatula now, hmm? You gonna give me a swat, Art?”

You looked around. The waitresses gaped through the window as the men loomed around the tables. Amused, they crossed their arms and watched the helpless old cook struggle. On the long steel table behind Steve was a large knife. Your heart pounded as you inched around him.

“Steve, come on, you can wait around for Jimmy,” You offered. “I’m sure he’ll be in. Hell, you’ll have more luck heading down to his. I’m sure he’s sleeping it off there.”

“I came here to get the money and I’m not leaving without it.” Steve snarled.

You bent slowly and took the knife, careful not to drag the blade on the floor. You stood and came around Steve. He glanced over as you pointed it at his neck. He chuckled as his eyes flashed.

“You don’t wanna do that, girl,” He warned.

“I don’t so long as you let him go,” You declared. “You go sit down, we’ll get you coffee, Art will cook you some bacon, and we’ll wait for Jimmy.”

“Don’t think I will.” Steve squeezed tighter as Artie turned red.

“Oh yeah?” You touched his neck with the blade’s edge. “You want Jimmy, no one’s keeping you from him but we can’t help you if you throttle poor Artie.”

A chuckle came from behind you. Deep and venomous. You looked slowly over your shoulder as the back door whisked shut. The knife slipped from your hand as you were faced with the barrel of a gun. The metal clattered to the tile as you dropped your arms and stared at the pistol’s mouth.

“You grew some balls since grade school,” Bucky remarked.

Him and Steve had always been inseparable. You should’ve known he wasn’t far. And as the main shareholder in the Asp and therefore the club, he was owed more than any. It would be a mark on the crest not to collect the debt himself.

“Wish I could say the same of you,” You retorted. “So, you gonna shoot me?”

He laughed again and Steve did too. “Let the man go,” Bucky said. “There’s a safe in the office. If there’s not enough in there, we’ll empty the till.”

He lowered the gun. Slowly as if taunting you. You turned to check on Artie as he leaned heavily on the wall. Steve headed for the door to the back hall where Jimmy’s office was.

“You okay?” You helped Artie stand straight. “You need some water. You should sit down. I’ll get Billy to finish service.”

“You are going to go out there,” Bucky said as he holstered his gun. “With the rest of the girls and stay away from sharp objects.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you to the door. “Artie, you get back to your tickets. These people look hungry.”

He shoved you through to the dining room and you stumbled into the counter. Artie coughed and wiped his sweaty hands on his apron. He waved at Billy, his sous chef, and ambled back to the grill.

It was a few minutes of tense silence filled only with the sound of pots, pans, and plates. As Artie called out an order and Lillian loaded her tray, Steve emerged from the back. Donny stood at the front door and kept any from leaving. Not than anyone had the strength or courage to even stand up.

“I don’t think we’re getting that thing open.” Steve said.

“Hey!” Donny shouted and the door chimed as he pulled it open.

Everyone watched as he raced out and chased Jimmy past the window. The small, greasy-haired man put up little fight against the burly biker and was dragged inside.

“There you are, Jim,” Bucky swung the door open and brushed past you. “We were starting to get impatient.”

“Bucky,” Jimmy’s voice cracked. “What are you--”

“Jim, let’s not play this game,” Bucky snapped. “I think you know I haven’t brought everyone here for breakfast so why don’t you help us crack the code and we’ll be on our way.”

“Crack the code?” Jimmy whimpered.

“We found the safe,” Bucky crossed his arms. “So, you open it up and we’re on our way. I only came for what’s mine. For what you owe me.”

“I-I-I--” Jimmy stuttered.

“Grab him,” Bucky ordered and Steve was quick to grab the thin man by his scruff and drag him across the diner.

Bucky led the way into the kitchen and the weak struggle could be heard as they disappeared through the back door. Artie called another order and Kimmie balanced it on her tray. When the three men returned, Jimmy had a bloody lip and Steve carried a black bag of what could only be the safe’s contents.

“Well, you see, we still got a problem here, Jimmy.” Bucky hauled him over to the window by his arm. “That’s not even close to what you owe and you’ve got late fees on top of it. Dodging me all week like this.”

Jimmy looked ready to cry as Bucky took his hand and slammed hit flat on the window’s ledge. He held his wrist down as he reached to his waist. “Check the register.” Bucky ordered.

Steve went to the till and hit every button until it opened. He emptied the drawer and shook his head. “Not even a hundred.” He scoffed.

“Pity,” Bucky pulled a knife from his belt. “Well then, Jim, there’s only one thing for you to do; pick a finger.”

“Wha--” Jimmy yelped. “What do you--”

“You pick a finger or I will find something worse to cut off.” Bucky lowered the blade and Jimmy flinched away.

“Please,” Jimmy begged. “I’ll get the money. End of the week, I promise.”

“You said that last week,” Bucky countered. “And I can’t gamble my integrity as lightly as you do, Jim. So hurry up or I’ll make you pick two.”

“Uh…” Jimmy quaked and went pale. ‘Th-the pinkie.”

Bucky was quick. The knife cut easily through flesh and bone and blood pooled beneath Jimmy’s hand in second. You covered your mouth as your stomach flipped and several people wretched, some followed by sloppy splats onto the floor.

Bucky held up the finger and admired it before he tucked it into his pocket and patted Jimmy on the back. “One week for the rest of it, Jim.” He strode through the door and stopped just beside the counter. He turned to you and smirked as he took the cloth from your apron pocket. “Get some pressure on that before he passes out, will ya?”

He handed you the cloth and winked. He nodded to his men and they filed out the door without another word. You blinked and shook yourself from your shock. You pushed through the kitchen door and grabbed Jimmy’s hand as he held his wrist. You pushed the rag to his severed pinkie and he hissed.

“Someone call an ambulance,” Your voice seemed to break the pall that had fallen over the diner. “Please!”

💀

By Tuesday, it was as if nothing had ever happened at the Chipped Saucer. The usual customers stopped by for their breakfast or lunch and Artie was back to his grumpy ways. The only thing that remained was the blood stain on the window ledge. And the bandage on Jimmy’s hand.

When you were done your shift, you hung your apron on its hook in the back and clipped your name tag on it. You covered up your hideous yellow dress with your black cardigan and grabbed your purse before you headed out. Your mother texted you to grab some cheese on your way home and a sixer of Blue for good measure.

You stopped by the grocer first and added a box of oreos to your bill. The liquor store was just next door and the after work crowd strolled its aisles. You traipsed to the back, the paper bag balanced against your hip as you browsed the cans and bottles. You grabbed some Blue and turned to head to the check out. You were the only person left in the aisle, well aside from one. Likely the reason for the sudden desolation.

Bucky Barnes stood before you in his leather jacket. You hadn’t noticed him there at the end of the shelf, watching you, arms crossed. You sighed and walked towards him, deliberately sidestepping him. You stopped short as he blocked you with his arm.

“Not even a hello?” He mused.

You scoffed and shook your head and stepped to the other side. He blocked you just as quickly. You tilted your head wryly and he smiled.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.” He said evenly.

“Mmhmm,” You rolled your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m not up for it.”

You tried to shake him again and he caught you around your waist. “Honey, honey, honey.”

You wriggled away from him and almost dropped your armful.

“You had a gun in my face two days ago. I have nothing to say to you.”

“You had a knife to my man’s throat.” He said. “Think we’re even.”

“Just say whatever it is you want so that I can go home.” You grumbled.

“How you like working over there at the Saucer?”

“What?” You shook your head.

“Seems slow. Tips any good?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You challenged.

“Well, we got an opening at The Asp and you’ve got experience serving.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d put that out there. Not many ways to move up in this town.”

“I don’t wanna work at a dive.” You said through your teeth. “You done?”

“Sure.” He backed up and turned so he was almost against the shelf. He waved you past him. “Go home. Relax.” You began to step by him and he spoke again. “Say hi to your ma.”

You stopped but didn’t look back at him. You swallowed and carried your sixer to the counter. You set it down and dug for your wallet with one hand.

“It’s been covered.” Larry said as he scratched his thick mustache and glanced at Bucky. The biker pretended to peruse the white wines.

“No, it hasn’t.” You slammed a bill on the cans. “You give him his money back. Or keep it. I couldn’t care less.”

You waited for your change and grabbed the beer. You kept your head high as you swept out onto the street and past the motorcycle parked across two spots. You’d have to barter a can off your mom when you got in.

💀

On Friday, Jimmy called you to his office. He never called anyone to his office. Well except Kimmie but that’s because everyone knew what was going on between them. So you punched out and headed to the small back room with the dented metal desk from the 60s and the cinder block wall poorly disguised with flowery wallpaper. You knocked then entered when he replied.

You sat in the small chair with the orange cushion. The same one you’d sat your interview in. Jimmy spun his pen in his hand. He was jumpy. More than usual. The small safe hidden beside his filing cabinet was scratched but still in tact. He dropped the pen and twined his fingers together.

“So, uh, yeah,” He blinked and sniffed. “Well, this isn’t… easy. Not quite sure how to say it really.”

You were quiet. Confused. You scrunched your lips and listened. You had a bad feeling. Unusual things didn’t happen for no reason. Not in a small town.

“Heh, well, I’m sure you know I’ve come into some financial hardship and, well, it looks like...uh,” He sat back and smoothed his greasy, thinnng hair. “I’m gonna have to let you… go.”

“Let me go?” You repeated. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“I need the, uh, cash,” He turned back and forth in his chair. He was nervous.

“Cash. Sure. You couldn’t sell that heap of junk parked outside?” You sneered. “I have no doubt this has something to do with those goons but I don’t think you’re being honest about the why.”

“Look, I’m real sorry. You’ll get severance.” He sputtered.

“You can’t afford to keep me on but you can afford the pay out?” You scoffed and stood. “Let me ask you, have you received any other visits from your friends at The Asp?”

He shook his head frantically.

“Yeah, you haven’t been around Larry’s to grab a mickey at all? Or passing by? Maybe Tuesday night?”

“It’s a small town. I got nowhere to hide.” He cowered.

“Suppose there’s nothing else to say. Nothing I can say.” You threw up those hands. “You tell Bucky you were a good boy, okay?”

“I…”

“I get it. You owe them.” You started to turn away. “When should I expect my cheque.”

“Usual,” He answered glumly. “I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You stopped by the door. “You remember how sorry you are the next time you pick up a cue, eh.”

💀

Another trip to the liquor store, this one unimpeded. A bottle of wine from some unheard of vineyard on some distant island. You carried it home in the bag, its shape visible beneath the wrinkled paper. You went in the back way, as you always did. Your mother’s dog, Ash, wiggled his bum as you stopped to pet him. You let him inside as you entered the kitchen.

Your mother was at the counter, working on dinner. You set the bottle on the table heavily and sat. You let your purse fall to the floor and sighed.

“Hey, hon,” She said. “How was your day?”

You grumbled and unsheathed the bottle. You crumpled the bag and tossed it in the middle of the table. You unscrewed the lid and drank from the long neck. Your mom stopped her chopping and turned with a hand on her hip.

“Rough one?” She asked.

“I got fired.” You said numbly.

“Fired? For what?”

You shrugged and took another drink. She huffed and set aside her knife. You listened as she opened and closed a cupboard and crossed to you. She set down a glass.

“Pace yourself.” She reproached.

You frowned and filled the glass to the rim. She tutted and went back to the counter.

“It’s because of them.” You said at last.

She looked at you but kept quiet. She knew who you meant.

“Some kind of game.” You muttered.

“Oh, Lillian told me about your heroics.” Your mother sighed. “I knew you weren’t telling me something.”

“Christ, ma, they were gonna give Artie a heart attack,” You exclaimed. “What was I supposed to do? He’s a defenseless old man.”

“And? The Commandos are thugs. They have no qualms against old men and young women.” She dumped her cutting board in the pot and covered it. “Losing your job is nothing. You could’ve lost a lot more messing around. You know how things work.”

“Not as well as you, yeah?” You drank deeply. “Dad learned it the hard way, didn’t he?”

“That he did,” She assured you and took a glass of her own from the cupboard. She sat with you at the table. “You’ll find something else. Something better than the diner. That little tourism place, they need a new receptionist.”

“Great, I’ll get my resume printed tomorrow.” You poured her a more modest glass. “It’s a show. Don’t worry, ma. They just want to wave their-- well, you know.”

“You just stay clear of them. Let them find bigger fish to fry,” She advised.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #biker!bucky barnes #biker au #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky barnes x reader #ft steve rogers #au #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america

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scaryscarecrows · 3 years

Text

Long Shot

AN: This is EARLY on: Jason’s about seventeen, and the only reason no one realizes that he has no idea what he’s doing is because of his scary helmet. Antoine is not adequate adult supervision, and oh boy, does it show.

* * *

Antoine looks at the man lying-apparently-dead on the floor. Looks at the Arkham Knight. Throws all caution out the window and points at the body, goes, “You killed him.”

“On accident!” The Knight sounds a little hysterical, modulator or not. “I didn’t even touch him and he just keeled over!”

“Shit.”

“Uh-huh.”

They both stare at the corpse. They needed this guy to let their client know that yes, job done, pay up. And, uh. Yeah. Little problem here.

“He is dead, right?” Maybe he just passed out. “He’s not just gonna pop up?”

“Dead as a doornail.”

“Shit,” he says again. The Knight nods.

“Uh-huh.”

Well, this is bad. Very bad. Hem. Ah.

“Okay,” the Knight says suddenly. “Okay, we can fix this. We’ll send an e-mail from his laptop.”

Antoine has no better idea, so he goes to try and get in there while the Knight begins the raid of the room, searching for credit cards, loose cash, and passwords. The laptop is poorly password-protected; it’s the man’s birthday. Hm.

A phone rings, and it takes both of them a second to figure out which one it is. It’s the Knight’s, and it’s their client calling. Oh, no.

“Yessir, I’m looking at him now.” Well, it’s true. “He was just about to e-mail you, I believe--no, he said something about a broken phone, the replacement’s in the mail, but--I’ll ask.” Ask what? “Mr. McGrathy, our client wants to Skype with you to ensure that this is all above board.” Antoine frantically shakes his head, they cannot Skype, the guy’s dead-- “He’s fine with that. Whenever you’re ready.”

The Knight hangs up. Antoine points, again, at the corpse on the floor.

“Sir,” he says, bracing to run if the Knight flips out on him, “small problem with that.”

“I know.”

“So what, we take the money and run?”

Silence. Antoine’s just about to think that yes, that’s what they’re going to do, when the Knight makes a pleased sound and starts rummaging through his belt.

“Get him in the chair,” he says. “Put some sunglasses on him, he’s, uh, he’s just had that procedure where you get your eyes dilated.”

“So what, he sits in the chair? Pretty sure Harris will notice, even if I duck down and like, wave his hand or something.”

“The camera’s going to short out,” The Knight says, finally digging out a...Antoine has no idea what that is. It has dials, that’s all he knows. “But McGrathy is going to say a few things, easy enough. And then yeah, we rob him.”

“You lost me, sir.”

“Just get him in the chair.”

Antoine hauls McGrathy into his desk chair, positions him so he looks...as not-dead as possible, and turns around to find some sunglasses. This is bad. How does this even happen, man? The Knight really didn’t touch him; he kicked the door in and the guy, well...he keeled. He straight-up keeled.

“This is Daniel McGrathy.”

“Shit-!”

The Knight laughs and holds up the device.

“Voice synthesizer,” he says. “I can do just enough phrases to pull this off.”

At any other time, that would be cool, but right now? Antoine’s trying to calm down, that scared the crap out of him, Jesus Christ.

“Think it’ll work?”

“No idea,” comes the cheerful response. “Here’s to hopin’. He all set?”

As set as Antoine can make him. He doesn’t look that lively anymore; his head keeps trying to loll over and his damn mouth doesn’t want to close. But, well, laptop cameras flatter no one.

That said, if this works, it’ll be a damn miracle.

* * *

“And it worked,” Jimmy says skeptically, noticeably not helping Antoine haul the corpse into the desk chair. “Not only did this happen another time, but you did something out of a bad movie and got away with it.”

“It worked until our client called the guy again,” the boss says, “and found out what happened, but we still got paid, so.”

“He wasn’t mad?”

“We were in the room with him. An agreement was reached.” Agreement. Sure. You could call it that. “But it worked enough to get us back there.”

“Jesus.” Jimmy takes his glasses off to rub his face. “I can’t believe you got away with it.”

Fair.

“Well, we did, mostly, so help me prep him.” Jimmy cackles. “Shut up.”

“I can’t believe this happened again.”

“Both of these guys left Gotham within the past three years,” the boss says absently. He’s fiddling with the synthesizer, occasionally rapping it against his palm. “They might have mistaken me for someone else*.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Leave it to Jimmy to just ask shit.

“Don’t know--here we go! Is he ready?”

“Almost.”

“There’s no way you can do this twice.” Gee, thanks for the confidence, Jimmy. It really helps. “There’s no way.”

“Not if he’s not ready,” the boss points out. Antoine holds out a hand.

“Sunglasses.”

It worked once. It has to work again. It’s the only option they have. And this time at least, the lighting is terrible, which makes it a lot easier to hide, er, everything.

…

God, how does this happen to them?

“We’re ready,” he says. The Knight sighs.

“Okay. Get ready to kill the camera. Worst-case scenario, Rogers, you hack into the client’s account and take what we’re owed plus a hassle fee.”

“Yessir.” A pause. “We’re gonna take his money too, right?”

“Of course.”

THE END

*Several people, from civilians to goons to the Militia, manage to mistake the Knight for Batman. As far as I know, only the civilians have said this to his face.

#arkham knight #jason todd #antoine drouot #jimmy rogers #shenanigans with a corpse

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johnsbleu · 3 years

Text

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 99

warnings: mentions of vomit?? Hold My Hand Masterlist

The airport is crowded with people on their way home for the holidays, and you watch as a young couple embrace and kiss each other endlessly. You smile when you see a little girl running up to her dad, and he lifts her into his arms as he walks over and kisses his wife. Your eyes are peeled for your mom, and you have butterflies in your stomach in anticipation of finally seeing her again.

Finn is sleeping in his stroller as you and Tess sit and wait for your mom to get off the plane, and you’re hoping your mom gets off soon before he wakes up and starts crying. Plus you promised John that you would let her stop by the shop before you went home so he could show it off since you’ve updated a few things since she saw it last, and it’s safe to say he’s very excited.

“I’m so excited for Christmas.” Tess says as she looks over at you, “I mean, it sucks that Finn is still just a teeny tiny baby, so he can’t open presents, but Jimmy and I can!”

“Well, he can try to rip the paper at least.” you laugh and look over to see more people coming off their flights, and you spot your mom coming down the steps. “There she is!”

“Hi!” she waves wildly and walks a little faster. She wraps her arms around you and hugs you tight, then she opens her arms again to hug Tess, “My girls! Oh, and my handsome boy. Look at him!”

Tess laughs and leans down to move Finn’s blanket off his face, “He just cried the whole way here and tired himself out, so he’s sleeping. He’s a bit cranky lately. He’s teething a little early.”

“Oh, no.” your mom frowns, leaning over the stroller to kiss Finn, “Goodness, he’s chunky.”

“Yeah, he loves food.” Tess says as you all make your way out to the car. “He still drinks milk, but he did get his first taste of plums the other day. Didn’t love it. What he did love though was the carrots.”

“I bet he’ll love apples when he tries them. You loved them when you were little.” your mom smiles and gets in the front seat of the car while you put her suitcase in the trunk. “Your mom made the mistake of giving you fruit first, and she had said you didn’t want anything but apples for an entire week. She had to trick you to get you to eat some vegetables as well.”

Tess laughs and nods her head, “I read that in my baby book.”

“How is James?”

Tess chuckles as she gets Finn buckled into the seat, “He’s good. He’s been really good lately. We’re getting back to our normal since Finn’s been born, which is good. We were a bit stressed for a while there, just trying to figure out all of Finn’s little habits, and his little sleep issue he was having. That’s all fixed, so we’re all good again. No thanks to this one and John.”

You feel Tess’ hand on your shoulder as you start the car, and you let out a small laugh, “It was nothing. We just watched Finn for them a few nights while they…spent some time together and went on dates.”

Your mom smiles, looking over at you, “I love that you girls look at for one another. That’s very sweet of you to do.”

“Well, Tess would do it for me.” you say, looking in the rear view mirror, “I’m not pregnant, so don’t ask.”

Your mom laughs and looks over at you, “How is that wonderful man, Jonathan?”

“Why is John ‘wonderful’? Why didn’t Jimmy get that? He’s wonderful.” Tess says, crossing her arms.

Your mom turns around in her seat a little and pats Tess’ leg, “You know I think James is wonderful too. I think he’s a saint for being able to put up with you.”

You try to hold in a laugh, but it slips out. Tess laughs and rolls her eyes, and your mom smiles at her. Of course Tess knows that your mom loves John and Jimmy just the same, but it’s always fun to tease her.

“Jonathan is good, by the way.” you say, pulling off the highway, “He’s at the shop, which he made me promise I would let you see before we went home. We’re closed already but he went in to pick up a little bit before you came in. I should probably call him.”

The line rings repeatedly and you hear John laughing as he answers the phone, “Hi, baby!”

“Hi, John.”

John laughs, “Did you get to the airport okay? Did you get mom?”

“Hello, Jonathan.” your mom says, waving at your phone.

“Mom, he’s on speaker. He can’t see you.” you laugh, “Babe, we’re on our way to the shop now. Are you still there?”

“Yup, Jimmy and I are just cleaning it up. I figured since mom is here now, I’ll just close the shop two days early. I’ll call everyone and let them know tonight.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, turning down the long road that leads to Mill Neck.

“Yeah,” John says, “I want to be able to spend some time with mom as well. I’ll still hang out in the basement to let you two spend some time alone.”

Your mom laughs, “You don’t have to hide from us.”

“Hey, I’m like 15 minutes away. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, love you. Please drive safely. It’s slippery out.” he says before hanging up.

The shop has lights strung up in the windows, and the trees out front have lights in them as well. The town look so cute and quaint, and so festive. In the middle of the small town square, there’s a lot that is set up for people to get their Christmas trees, and there’s only a few left. There’s one massive tree in the center that is all decorated with lights and large ornaments, and there’s even a few booths set up for the winter festival that is taking place, which you and John are planning on attending tonight.

You open the shop door to see John and Jimmy sitting at the table in the middle of the shop, and they both get up to greet you when you all walk in.

“Hey.” John says, walking over to you. He leans down to kiss you, then he quickly moves to hug your mom. “Hey, mom. How was your flight?”

“It was lovely.” she says, hugging John and moving to hug Jimmy. “It went pretty fast.”

“Good, good.” Jimmy says, then he reaches down to get Finn out of his carrier.

John gestures to the shop and smiles, “Looks a little different since you were here last.”

Your mom begins to walk around the shop and she marvels at everything. She points at the back corner -- the reading nook for kids -- and she smiles, “That’s just too sweet.”

“John and I were back there the other week while a little girl read to us. She was so cute.” you laugh and wrap your arms around John’s bicep as you yawn.

“Sleepy mouse.” John whispers, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

You tilt your head back and nod, “Yeah, it’s been a long day.”

“Is mom staying with us tonight?”

You shake your head and point at Finn, “She wants to get her hands on that baby, so no. She’s staying with them for a few days. I feel bad, I feel like she thinks she has to split her time, but she doesn’t need to. She can stay with them the whole time she’s here, I would understand. She wants to spend time with her grandson.”

“I can hear you, you know.” your mom laughs as she walks back over. “I just don’t want you to think I don’t care about you.”

“Definitely don’t think that, mom.” you say, looking over at Finn bouncing in Jimmy’s arms, “I would rather hang out with that little chunk than us anyway. We’re just going to go home and probably fall asleep on the couch.”

“That’s true.” John nods, putting his hand over his mouth as he yawns, “I’m exhausted.”

“Okay, well, I just don’t want you to feel like I don’t want to spend time with you.” she says, moving closer to you.

“Hey,” John looks down at you, “Did you tell mom about our plan?”

You give him a stern look, then roll your eyes, “No, Jonathan. I did not.”

“Ooh, that earned quite a look.” Jimmy laughs, bending down to put Finn back in his car seat, “We better get out of here.”

Your mom looks at you and smiles, “What’s your plan?”

Taking a deep breath, you let go of John’s arm and reach out for your mom’s hand, “I know that you’ve been trying to sell the house and no one has offered to buy it yet.”

“Well, it’s a terrible time for it. I should just put it up for sale again this spring.”

You nod your head and look over at John, “Well, Jonathan and I were talking the other night and I told him about my conversation I had with Tess. We really want you to move here. Finn is 5 months old. If you put the house back up for sale in the spring, he’ll be nearly 9 months. Almost a year old. You’ll have missed that whole first year of his life.”

“That’s very true. I just try to FaceTime with Tess as much as I can.” your mom says, looking at Finn. “I realize I’ve missed a lot already, and it breaks my heart but there’s not much I can do about it. If I could get someone to buy the house, I would.”

“Well, what if we had somewhat of a solution?” John ask, reaching for your hand, “What if tomorrow, we went and checked out a few houses in Oyster Bay? I’ve already called someone and they said that they’d be willing to show us two houses that are for sale. I think you might be interested in them.”

“That’s very, very sweet of you.” she says, squeezing John's bicep, “But that still doesn't change the fact that I don't have the money for it.”

Tess laughs and raises her eyebrows, “Mom.”

“We want you here, mom.” you say as you reach for her hand, “I can’t stand the thought of you missing out on your first grandchild’s life. Jonathan and I have been trying like crazy to get pregnant, and we’re hoping to get pregnant soon, so we really want you here too.” you look up at John and smile, then you look back at your mom, “I mean, here as in New York. We want you in the state, not like…”

“In your house.” your mom says, winking at you. “I get it.”

“Yeah, and this is where we leave.” you laugh and zip your coat back up. You look up at John, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, “I’m gonna take her home so she can drop her stuff off, then I’ll meet you at the festival. I love you.”

John rubs his thumb over your cheek and holds your gaze, “I love you. Please drive carefully. We don’t want another repeat of last time, do we?”

You roll your eyes and look over you shoulder at him as you open the door -- you know he only said something so your mom would ask. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I will.”

Your mom laughs as she follows behind you, and you get in the car to warm it up again. Tess opens the back door to get in, and she buckles Finn into his seat again.

“What happened the other day?” your mom asks, almost on cue.

You buckle yourself in and laugh, “It rained and it froze, and…my brakes wouldn’t work, so I slid and ran into a pole. John was at work, and I was on my way in. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw my lip all bloody. It was no one’s fault, but John called the city and cussed them out for not putting down salt, so that was kinda sweet.”

“Honey! Are you okay?” your mom asks, grabbing your arm.

You laugh, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just busted my lip open when I hit the pole. Nothing big. Oh, and dented my car. Aurelio fixed it for me the next day.”

“You’re a whole mess.” Tess laughs from the backseat, “No wonder John worries about you all the time.”

As you walk around the festival, you cling to John when a shiver runs up your spine, and he pulls you closer to him to warm you up. It’s a cold night, but thankfully there’s little fire pits around for you to be able to warm yourself up. John is sipping on a little cup of hot chocolate, and he offers some to you with a smile on his face.

“Don’t mind if I do!” you say, taking a sip of his drink, then you hand it back to him. “I’m hungry, like beyond hungry. I need food right this minute.”

John laughs as he looks at you, “Okay, okay, we’ll feed you.”

The air is filled with the smell of food and the sounds of people singing Christmas carols, and your heart is almost bursting with joy. There’s a small choir singing up on a stage, and you notice a little group of kids standing around and waiting to get their picture taken with Santa.

“Want your picture with Santa?” John teases, then he takes a sip of his hot chocolate, “You’ve been good this year, well, you were a little naughty the other night though.”

You look up at him and smirk, “I don’t wanna sit on his lap.”

John cocks up his eyebrow as he looks down at you, “Oh? Is there someone else in mind?”

Nodding your head, you stand in front of John as he leans down to kiss you, and he pulls you closer to you after he tosses his cup into the garbage. You laugh against his lips when you hear Tess groan in disgust, and you look over your shoulder at her.

“So gross,” she teases, nudging John’s arm when she walks past.

You smile when you see Jimmy with Finn in his arms, and you rub your finger over his cheek as he squeals, “Hi, handsome!”

“Hey,” Jimmy says, winking at you when you look at him. “Oh, you meant him? Right.”

Tess gasps when she sees Santa, “We need to get his picture with him. He’s good with people, he’ll be okay.”

You look around to make sure your mom didn’t get left behind, and you smile when you see her talking to John as they stand at a booth with homemade candles. You turn back to Tess as she reaches for your hand, then you follow her over to Santa.

“Hi, Santa!” Tess smiles, taking Finn from Jimmy. “He’s been a really good boy this year!”

Letting out a small laugh, you look around while Tess helps get Finn into Santa’s arms, and you smile when you see Grace and Tony holding hands as they walk through the crowd. You watch them as they walk closer to John, and he smiles when he turns and looks at you, then he introduces them to your mom.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa says loudly, which scares the absolute shit out of Finn, and he starts to cry and reach out for Jimmy. “Oh, no, Santa didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jimmy laughs as he reaches out for Finn, “He’s alright. Thank you, Santa.”

“Yeah, thanks, Santa. Now that kid won’t stop crying.” Tess says under her breath as you all walk back over to meet your mom and John.

John holds up a corndog for you and smiles, “Got you something to eat.”

“Ugh, thank you. I’m starving.” you smile, then you take a bite and offer some to John. You take a few more bites of it, then you give the rest to John since you definitely ate way too fast.

Reaching for your hand, John pulls you closer and wraps his arm around your shoulder, then he leans down to kiss you. You’re feeling a lot more tired than usual, but today has been a long ass day with the cleaning and shopping you had to do for Christmas. You just want to get home and crawl in bed with John.

You place your hand on your stomach when you start to feel a little queasy, but you swallow it down and continue walking down the pathway with John. Tess looks over at you and cocks her eyebrow up when you furrow your brow a little, then she quietly gasps and grabs your arm.

“Uh, I…I need to talk to her.” Tess says to John, and he lets go of you and smiles before he keeps walking. Tess pulls you off the pathway and into the snow, then she widens her eyes and looks at you, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh quietly, “I think I’m getting the flu.”

Tess cocks her eyebrow up again and laughs, “Uh, are you sure? Because…”

“I’m not pregnant. I can’t be.” you shake your head and look at her, “I mean, my ovulation day was…two weeks ago.”

“Yeah!” Tess laughs, “You two have been trying like crazy!”

You take a deep breath as you look over at her, then you widen your eyes and look around for a trash can. You immediately run over to it and tilt your head inside, then you vomit twice as Tess rubs your back.

“I just ate something that my stomach doesn’t agree with,” you say firmly as you look at her. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Tess nods, then she grabs some napkins from the hot chocolate booth to wipe off your mouth. “But I mean, we know that’s not true, right?”

You wipe off your mouth and toss the napkins into the trash, “Um, I don’t know.”

“Look, I know you’re scared. Negative tests aren’t fun.” Tess says as she reaches for your hand, “But don’t lie, you know you’re a little excited at the thought.”

A smile spreads across your face as you look at her, then you tear up and look away, “I obviously want this to be it, but I don’t know. I really think I just caught the flu.”

“Hey!” John calls out to you and wave you over, and you put your finger up and smile.

You look back at Tess and inhale deeply, “I have the flu.”

“Sure.” Tess nods as she walks away, then she laughs, “Sure, you do.”

John smiles as you walk back over to him, and he reaches out for your hand and presses to kiss to it when he feels your fingers are like little popsicles. He rubs them between his hands to warm them up, then he presses kisses to them over and over as you laugh.

“You’re freezing.”

“Just my fingers,” you laugh as you put your gloves back on, “Just because I took my gloves off for a minute, otherwise I feel fine.”

John zips your jacket up more and pulls your stocking cap down so it’s nearly over your eyes, and you groan loudly as you push it out of your face. A smile spreads across John’s face as he looks down at you, and you reach up and pull his stocking cap over his eyes before you run away from him.

“So…” your mom looks over at you and smiles, and you can tell she wants to ask how about the whole baby thing is coming along, but she’s too sweet to be so upfront about it.

“No baby yet.” you shake your head and shrug, “Soon, we hope. We’re trying not to get stressed out about it, and I even talked to my doctor and she told me to track my ovulation with this app, so that’s what we’re doing.”

John smiles as he stands next to you, then he reaches down and rubs your stomach, “Who knows? There could be a baby in there.”

You scoff loudly, “He says that every month. It’s been two weeks since my ovulation day, so calm down.”

“Do you even know at two weeks?” Jimmy chimes as he sips on a cup of hot chocolate.

Your mom nods, “Some people do. Tess certainly didn’t know.”

“I did not,” she inhales deeply and laughs, “But once I realized that I was pregnant, it was like all the symptoms happened at once. I was clinging to the toilet one minute, I was hot and annoyed at everything -- not just Jimmy for once.”

Jimmy playfully nudges Tess’ shoulder, “Ha, ha.”

“Some people get tender breasts, mood swings, fatigue, oh, and a missed period.” your mom says, looking over at you.

You laugh as you roll your eyes playfully, “Well, I’ll be getting my period soon, so fingers crossed, right?”

“Fingers crossed that you don’t!” John says, and you let out a small laugh as you look at him. The smile on your face fades a little as you look at him, and he gives you a small nod, immediately changing the subject, “So, mom, how is everything back home?”

Holding tight to John’s hand, you continue walking with everyone through the festival, and Tess smirks as she looks over at you and looks down at your stomach. You smile as you hold her gaze, then you grip John’s hand a little tighter and smile as you look up at him.

John is in his office making the final calls to the employees to let them know that they don’t need to come into work until after the holidays, and you hear him laughing on the phone. You’re sure they’re more than happy to have the extra days off. You lean against the door frame and pull your arms around yourself, smiling as John talks on his phone.

“Yup, you’re scheduled for Monday the 6th at 11.” John says as he looks up at you, ogling you when he sees you in shorts and a tank top, and you playfully roll your eyes. He smiles and nods his head, “Okay, Tony. Enjoy your time off. Merry Christmas.”

You smile at John as he puts his phone down, “All done? I got the movie ready.”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” he says, getting up from his desk to walk over to you. He takes your hands and pulls you into his arms, then he gasps and leans back, “You’re warm.”

“I know,” you laugh as you back away from him, “Think I’m getting the flu.”

You look over your shoulder at John as he follows you to the living room, and he frowns at the thought of you being sick during Christmas.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Nah,” you wave it off and sit down on the couch, “I’ll be fine, and if I get the flu, I get the flu.”

John sighs softly, leaning down to kiss you, “Yeah, but we don’t want you to be sick.”

“I’ll be fine, baby.” you lean up to kiss John again, then you gesture to the TV, “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.”

“Yes! Let me change into my pajamas, then I’ll get some popcorn started.”

You nod your head as you look at him, then you inhale deeply and hold your breath until he’s upstairs and in the bedroom before you quickly shut yourself in the bathroom. You turn the faucet on as you lean over the toilet and dry-heave several times before you squeeze your eyes shut and cough. You spit a little in the toilet and sit up as you try to catch your breath.

“No puke?” you whisper to yourself, then you flush the toilet and look at yourself in the mirror, trying to convince yourself not to get your hopes up, “It’s just the flu.”

A knock at the door startles you, and you open the door and smile at John as you walk out. He steps back and furrows his brow a little, gesturing to the bathroom.

“You’re okay?”

You smile as you lean up to kiss him, “Of course.”

“Okay,” John eyes you a little as you walk past him, and he lets out a small laugh when you give him a funny look. “Just checking.”

John walks over to the pantry to get a bag of popcorn out, and you glance up at him every so often and wonder if he thinks there’s something going on with you other than just being sick. You’re trying your best to not get your hopes up, but you’re curious to know why you’re suddenly sick even though it’s pretty damn obvious -- again, not getting those hopes up though.

“Did you try to open one of your presents?” John asks, and you laugh loudly. “Because you know you’re not allowed to peek, mouse.”

“I did not try to open one of my gifts, I’m offended.”

John leans over the counter and holds your gaze as the sound of popcorn popping fills the kitchen. He squints his eyes playfully at you, and since he’s not onto the whole possibly being pregnant thing, you decide to play along.

“Fine!” you throw your arms up and laugh, “I tried to peek into the bag.”

“Peach!” John laughs as he walks over to you, and you smile as you tilt your head back to look at him, then he bends you over the counter and playfully spanks you, “Naughty.”

You smile as you turn around to look at him, then you shrug, “Oh, come on, just let me open one!”

“One,” he nods before walking over to his popcorn, “Just one, and it has to be that bag.”

Clapping your hands together, you smile at John as he gets his popcorn and M&Ms, then you walk over to grab a can of pop from the fridge and a bottle of water. You follow John into the living room with a smile on your face, and you immediately walk over to the Christmas tree.

“That one, only that one.” John says as you walk back over to the couch with it.

“Heavier than I thought.”

Sitting down on the couch next to John, you set the bag between the two of you, then you reach in and pull out something rectangular wrapped in red tissue paper. You look up at John as he smiles, then you pull the paper back to reveal the beautiful cover of Charlotte’s Web. The dark blue leather of the cover compliments the gold etching and writing, and there’s Charlotte, Wilbur and Fern right in the center of the cover.

You gasp as you look up at him, “Is this…”

“It’s yours.” he nods, scooting a little closer, “I’ve had it rebound for a while, but I just couldn’t do this etching of Charlotte and Wilbur on the leather myself, so I had to send it somewhere to get it done.”

“Baby, that’s Fern.” you chuckle as you look over at him, then you run your finger down the book where Charlotte is in, “Charlotte was the spider, remember?”

“Shit, yeah,” John laughs, looking down at his hands, “Sorry, I knew that, I’m just…I’m just nervous.”

Running your finger over the cover of the book, you bite your cheek as you begin to tear up. You’re already on the verge of tears, but when you open the cover and see John’s stamp on the inside, you immediately burst into tears.

“That’s so sweet,” you sniffle as you look over at him, “This is so beautiful. Thank you so much.”

John moves your hair off your shoulder and laughs as he rubs your back, “Why are you crying, sweetheart?”

You take the tissue that John is offering you, then you blow your nose and grab another tissue as John watches with a smile on his face. You take a deep breath and look over at him, but as soon as your eyes meet, you start to cry again. Hopefully you can stop being so damn emotional soon so John doesn’t get too suspicious.

“I’m sorry,” you laugh as John reaches over for your bottle of water and offers it to you. You quickly take a drink of it and inhale deeply to try to control your emotions, “Okay, I think I’m good now.”

John chuckles softly, rubbing his hand over your back, “You’re so sweet.”

“This means so much to me, and I know how much work you put into these books. I’ve been with you when you’ve worked on some these past few weeks, I know it takes a bit of work to get them just right.” you look down at your book and open it to see John’s stamp again, “Just knowing that you took the time to do this for me means so much, you have no idea. I love this, and it’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.” John says softly as you look over at him, “I just didn’t want you to think I ruined it.”

You shake your head as you lean over to kiss him, “I told you that I wanted you to rebind it.”

“I know, but I didn’t want you to hate it.”

“I could never,” you whisper to him as you hold his gaze, “It’s beautiful.”

John smiles as he carefully takes the book from you, then he opens it and looks over at you, “Can’t wait to read this to our baby.”

“Yeah,” you cry as you nod your head, and John pulls you closer to his side, “I can’t wait.”

You close your eyes and try to control your emotions a little better since you don’t want John to be suspicious at all. You want him to be completely blindsided if you do end up being pregnant.

“Oh,” John sits up and grabs the bag, “There’s something else.”

Furrowing your brow, you sit cross-legged on the couch as John sets the bag in your lap, then you reach in and grab out the other gift. You pull the tissue paper off of it and smile wide as you look down at the original cover from your book that John has placed into a frame. You put your hand over your mouth when you see the small note from the inside cover that your mom had wrote to you in the frame too, and you smile as you read it.

Never hurry and never worry, my love. So proud to be your momma! Happy birthday, baby. Love always, mom.

You look over at John as he smiles and wipes away the tears on your cheeks, then he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight.

“The fact that you thought to save this…”

John leans back and nods, “I knew you’d want it, so I framed it. Thought we could put it in the baby’s room.”

You smile as you lean back to look at John, then you get up from the couch and nod towards to baby’s room. John happily hops up and reaches for your hand as the two of you head upstairs, and you press a kiss to the back of his hand when he looks at you.

Turning on the light in the bedroom, you immediately hold the frame up to figure out where to put it, then you shrug and look over at John.

“The theme is going to be moon and stars, so I don’t think I want this right smack dab in the middle of the room.”

John carefully takes the picture from you and holds it up near the closet, “How about here? Maybe we can get another little Charlotte’s Web picture and put it here too. And when you come in here, it’s not the first thing you look at, but it’s the last thing you see when you leave.”

“Yeah, I like it there.” you nod as John hands the picture to you, then he gets the hammer and quickly hammers a nail into the wall. John gestures to it and smiles, letting you be the one to hang it up, and you stand back and look at it, “First picture in the baby’s room is officially hung.”

Chuckling softly, John wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head, “Not even pregnant yet, and we already got a picture up.”

“Well, we have a few things already.” you say as you gesture to the other pictures, blankets, and stuffed animals the two of you have bought.

“Now we just need a baby!” John laughs, rubbing his hand over your stomach. He leans forward a little to look at you, then he puckers his lips and kisses you repeatedly until you’re laughing.

You lean back against John’s chest as the two of you look at the picture and hold each other for a few moments, and you discreetly move your hand to your stomach and rub it slowly as a smile spreads across your face.

Yeah, now we just need a baby.

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #fic: hold my hand #me looking at the chapter number and knowing i'm no where near done with this story bc i love them all too much: well shit #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #i hope u all enjoy!!! happy friday #love yall #lemme know ur thots *eye emoji*

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queen-bunnyears · 3 years

Text

Murder on your mind ~ Tom Holland

Pairing: DCI!Tom Holland x DI!reader

Summary: Inspired by my love for B99, and my guilty pleasures Silent Witness and Luther. What more can I say.

Wordcount: 5,4k+

Warnings: This is about a serial murder investigation, so it does discuss murder, violence, a chase, guns and shotwounds, a caraccident, unconciousness. They swear. Mentions of alcohol. A small kiss.

Okay if you need help understanding uk police ranks, (I did) I looked it up. So we have a chief inspector who in this case is the highest rank. Directly under him come the DCI’s (Detective Chief Inspector). Then a DI, (Detective inspector) and for today the only other rank I use is an officer, which is lower in rank than the others.

“And then the remaining time of today's briefing is for DCI Osterfield, he has a case he would like to discuss,” your boss says. Harrison stands up from his seat, and picks up the clicker for the screen.

“Thank you, Miss Carter. So, anyone who likes to take a guess about the crime?” he asks, and immediately hands fly up. “It was committed just an hour ago. Janssen?”

“Money laundering,” Janssens confident voice thunders through the room. He often wins these betting games, but mostly because nine out of ten times it is indeed money laundering. Harrison shakes his head.

“Too bad, it is definitely a big break in,” Claire says next to you. You shake your head. For a break in he would be talking with the uniform officers, he wouldn’t have needed to discuss it. Unless the stolen items are over a million, but then the news would surely have spread across the city already, and the new apps hadn’t put anything online yet.

“Hostage situation?” Jimmy shouts from the desk behind you. Jimmy always wants it to be hostages, because he is the only negotiator at the station. But hostages are way too uncommon, the chief would have told you about it. You know what it is the moment Harrison points at you.

“Too bad, you are all wrong. Y/n, like to take a last guess?”

“Murder,” you say, clicking your pen and closing your notebook. You cock your head to the side, “And it must be real nasty if you wanna discuss it,”

“Bingo! So we have a big ol’ murder on our hands,” Harrison says, clicking to the next powerpoint slide. A photograph of a bloody crime scene comes up. “And it is not just on our hands,” he clicks and points dramatically to the man who comes up on the screen, “This is Tom Holland, DCI in Southwest London. He is gonna be helping me because,” the next slide shows three almost identical scenes. “It’s a serial!”

“Ohh Tom is a handsome colleague. I would love to do a stake-out with him, if you know what I mean,” Jimmy bends over his desk and whispers to you. You shake your head laughing.

“Jimmy, you have a problem in need of fixing. Have you tried going on a date?” you whisper back. You don’t move quickly enough, and his playful slap hits you on the back of your head.

“For the record, you are way too excited about this,” Claire says, and DCI Osterfield blushes slightly.

“I just want to catch him, and not be a total mood ruiner while informing you,” he replies, clicking to the end of the slideshow.

“Does anyone recognise something from an old case? He works really neat, so Holland thinks it might be someone who has done it before,” The briefing room stays quiet as no one answers. You shrug your shoulders.

“Well please dig in your memory today, anything you remember might help. We have to solve this. I will need assistance, and chief told me detective Y/l/n has just closed her last case. Wanna help me?”

“Yeah sure,” you say, folding your hands underneath your head. The pictures look awful, and nothing like you have ever dealt with.

“Great, we leave for the crime scene after this,” Harrison says, and you nod at him, “Okay, that concludes the discussion. If press asks you about it, direct them to me or to the PR people, don’t tell them anything,” he walks back to his desk while Carter stands up.

“Good luck today, don’t forget to apply for the training day next week,”

“Okay so what is the deal Haz?” you ask. You sit in the car, on your way to the crime scene. He drives, and you drink from the Starbucks cup in your hand, trying to get them to warm up. Police cars are always terribly cold.

“There were three murders last week in Southwest, and tonight one on our area. As you saw in the pictures, it is all done almost precisely the same. So naturally we have to go there, because it’s our area, but the DCI from Southwest will be joining us as well, because he has worked this case for days now,”

“Do you know him?”

“Tom and I were together in high school, and at the Academy. We are good friends. He is an excellent detective,” Harrison tells you. Harrison was in the year above you at the academy, but you never really interacted with classes other than your own. You fall silent, not having much else to say. Your mind goes to the slide show of the victims. All the same position, almost the same place of impact. The photograph of this morning's victim flashes before your eyes.

“Any info on the victim already?”

“Sally Stars, 33, she is a tourist from the US,” you see the image of her again. Small woman wearing a yellow raincoat, lying on her back. Her shoes next to her body, no bag or anything. A big red spot on her chest where the bullet pierced her skin. One shot, quick kill.

“Where in the US?”

“Phoenix, Arizona,” That tells you precisely nothing. Although you don’t know what you hoped for.

“Other similarities between this case and the others, beside how they look?”

“All of them are tourists. It is a drama, working together with all the embassies,” he sounds bitter. The happy, teasing Harrison is gone now. At the station you can joke around, but as soon as you go out it becomes serious business. You hope this case can be solved quickly.

“DCI Holland, please let me through,” you hear a voice say. You look up to see the man from the photograph walking up to you. Removing your gloves you come up from your crouching position next to the victim.

“Goodmorning DCI Holland,” you extend your hand and he shakes it. You put your globes back on while you introduce yourself, “I am detective inspector Y/n Y/l/n. I will be helping you and DCI Osterfield with the case,”

“Great,” he says, before turning away to Harrison. “Please tell me there is anything different on this one,”

“Not as far as I can see Tom,” Harrison says, a thoughtful look in his eyes, “but you know more of the case, does anything seem different to you?” Tom takes his time inspecting the crime scene. He lifts things, ruffles through the bagged evidence and asks for some extra pictures. When he returns to Harrison and you his face looks almost angry.

“It seems like everything is the same,’ he says, suddenly he slams his hands down, “the fucker did it again. No fucking mistakes, how does he do it?”

“Something will come up,” Harrison says. You look around you, staring at the forensic experts who were bagging the evidence. The answer had to be here somewhere. Then you see a young man bag something a few metres from the body, at the edge of the scene.

“Hey, wait!” you scream, and you walk over to him, carefully stepping on the cleared ground. You almost smiled at what you saw, “Is that a,-”

“A phone,” DCI Holland says and he hurries over to where you are standing. You grab the bag from the stunned mans hands, and take out the phone. It feels icy cold through your gloves, and you see water drops on the side.

“It is soaked from dew and the rain this morning, I hope the lab can get something out of this,” you say, handing it over to Harrison, “It’s turned off, please keep it that way. If they dry it properly it might still work and that makes everything much easier.”

“This is new, the other bodies didn’t have a phone on them,”

“It’s his first mistake,” Harrisons says. You frown.

“Why do you think it is a man?”

“A wild guess, wanna bet on it?” he replies absently. Then he gives you the phone back, “what do you think of this? Does it tell you anything?”

“Old iphone, not a special model, Iphone 5. The case suggests that she is a big Harry Potter fan, that could explain why she was in Londen,” you take the case off the phone and grab the wet piece of paper that sits behind it, “And I wager she has a room in a hotel near Victoria's station. These are directions from there. To the right, past Victoria theatre, and so on. Call the station, they should be able to find the hotel,”

“That’s not right,” Tom says. His mouth is a thin stripe, and his forehead is wrinkled in a frown.

“Sorry what?”

“They already found her hotel room, near Covent Garden,”

“Then were would this lead to?” you wonder, inspecting the note closer.

“That is a very good question.” DCI Holland says, and he walks away. You stare at the piece of paper, as if it would start speaking if you look at it enough.

“Well, let’s go to this adress then,” Harrison says. You take a photograph of the paper and carefully put the phone back in the evidence bag. The ride is quiet, both you and Harrison deep in thoughts about the murder.

“Hello, I am detective inspector Y/l/n, and this is my colleague DCI Osterfield,” you show your badge to the man at the front desk. “We have some questions for you, regarding an ongoing case. Have you seen this woman?”

He inspects the photograph carefully and looks at Harrison. “Yes sir, I saw her yesterday. She came in to rent a safety box for a week. I can show you, although you need her permission to open it, or an official order.”

Harrison looks at you, and you shrug. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Can we see the box please?” he asks, putting his badge back in his pocket.

“Of course sir, follow me.”

“Nothing interesting in the locker, nothing in her hotel room. The first conversations with her family shows nothing of interest. There is no connection between them. Just the tourist thing. So based on that we have to assume he is killing at random,” Harrison is on the phone. He has big blue circles underneath his eyes. Probably matching yours. The second day on a murdur case is always heavy, as most of the evidence is processed, and the first results from the lab come in. You hear some murmurs on the other side and Harrison ends the call. He looks at you.

“Tom is on his way to us. He will bring his map of evidence and everything he gathered with the old cases,” you nod absently, looking at the giant board filled with photos, and the map. Red dots and lines all over the place, but it doesn’t make sense yet.

“Tourists don’t know the city well, so he might be able to guide them somewhere under false pretenses,” you say, “So maybe a cabbie? Who else moves anonymously through the city like that? I wanna see the CCTV,”

“There was no CCTV in the other cases,” Harrison tells you while typing on his laptop, “But we are lucky, they just placed a new camera at the shop across from the entrance of the park. They might have something. The officer should have sent,-” his voice trails off when he opens his mail and sees the file. Behind Harrison you see the door open and DCI Holland walks into the room. Harrison looks up.

“Tom, great, we were just going to watch the CCTV I texted about,” he starts the recording. The street on the screen is empty. “This is 21:00. Forensics guess she died around midnight,”

The screen stays empty as the video goes on to 21:00. At 22:38 a man walks through the screen with his dog. The small clock in the corner ticks through, 23:00, 23:30, 00:00. Just as Harrison wants to stop it you see something move in the corner.

“There,” you point at the bicycle that comes into view. A man is riding it, and when he turns into the park you and Tom see it at the same time. You shoot up, pausing the screen. 01:04.

“That’s her,” Tom says. Limp, on the back of the bicycle sits a woman, “is she conscious?”

“I don't think so, see here, he hits a bump and she doesn’t react at all,” Harrison says, playing the shot again.

“Does he return later?” you watch the remainder of the video three times, but nothing appears.

“He is smart, uses another exit. Who knows what happened after this, we need more on him,” you say, noting the times and details in your book.

“First we need to know who he is. Did they run facial recognition already?” Tom asks, turning to look at Harrison, who shakes his head.

“No, we are the first to see this material. Get the boss, I want to run this man through the system immediately.”

“I know him,” Carter says. She sits up straight in her chair and starts the tape again. She pauses it right as the mans face is in view. “Jason Sanders, ex police officer. He used to work for me back in the 90’s. He has grown older, but I am like 99% sure it’s him.”

“If he is an ex copper his face should be in the system,” Tom says. You just nod, noting down the name, and opening your laptop to start a google search. Two clicks and you are on his facebook profile.

“Yes he is a perfect match. Look at these pictures,”

“Okay, I want Claire to run a background check,” Harrison says, pointing at her. “Names, friends, family, address, possible gun registration, workplace. I want to know everything you can find. First, run his face through the system, I want to be sure it's him,”

“Sure, that should take about an hour,” she immediately opens her laptop and starts typing. Tom clears his throat.

“So, two of us have to go to the lab and talk with the forensic experts. And one needs to go through the three cases, see if we can find a new link. I have stared at the cases for hours now so I think it’s best if one of you takes a fresh look.”

“I will do it,” Harrison replies just a second quicker than you, “Y/n can go with you to the lab. I believe Henry will do the post-mortem, so she is probably happy to go with you.”

“I will tell you one more time Haz, no funny business between me and Henry,” you say with a stern look on your face, but you smile afterwards. Harrison always jokes about the doctor at the lab who has a small crush on you. In return you tease him endlessly about the defense attorney who is just a bit too sweet and open to Harrison for it to be professional.

“Well if the two of you are done wasting time can we leave, Y/l/n?” Tom is at the door quickly walking outside, but his harsh look doesn’t go unnoticed by you and Harrison. Harrisons shrugs his shoulders and you follow Tom through the door.

“Can you tell us anything interesting?” you ask Henry who is standing in front of a big window that shows the postmortem room. You look inside, shivering at the sight of the body on the table with all it’s organs stashed neatly beside it.

“There are so many interesting things to tell,” he laughs at Tom’s annoyed face, “Let’s get to business,”

“Please,’ Tom sighs, causing you to roll your eyes at Henry behind his back. Henry points to the large body bag on a table in the far corner of the room.

“That’s her. Full postmortem will be done tomorrow, it’s busy, but here is what we already can confirm. Victim is female, nothing weird about her body or anything like that. He probably killed her with that one clean shot. She has been drugged, we found alcohol and ketamine in her blood,”

“Just like the others,” you add. Henry nods and walks through the lab to a screen. He clicks on some buttons. A file opens, and you see a tinder profile and some messages.

“But Jackie ran tests on her phone, and there was a damned good reason he kept the other two.” You look up interested at those words, nodding to Henry to continue, “She was on Tinder, trying to make friends to go out with during her stay. She has texts with a man whom she had a date with last night. He called himself James, and had a random model photo on his profile,”

“Did you run that profile through the computer? Anything?”

“We can’t track the phone that belongs to the profile. We are waiting for access to the profile so we can see his other messages, that should be here later this afternoon. There is a possibility this is the way he finds and contacts his victims,”

“Shit” you say. Tom looks at the text chain unmoving. “Holland, are you okay? This could be a breakthrough.”

“Yes, could be. But we know nothing yet. Nothing is sure,” he says curtly. He walks to the door. “You let us know when the rest of the data is in,” he opens the door, gesturing for you to come after him. You stretch slowly, and smile at Henry.

“Thank you so much for your hard work, this could really mean much for the case,” you say, sending a provoking look towards Tom, “And I am sure my colleague here is just as thankful, don’t mind him, he has a bad day.”

“No problem Y/n, see you later,” Henry replies, sending a broad smile your way. You nod one last time before following Tom outside.

“What was that?” the anger in his voice is apparent. You smile sweetly and pat him on the shoulder.

“That, DCI Holland,” you pause shortly and look him in the eye, “was common decency. Be kind to the lab, and they will be kind to you. That applies to more things actually,”

“Don’t tell me what to do,”

“Don’t be unkind then,” you say, smiling at him, ignoring the irritation that burns within you. Damn that man. But you have dealt with a lot of unkind, bitchy police officers in your days, you won’t let him bring you down. You walk towards the car, grabbing the key from Holland's hand. “I’ll drive,”

Stakeouts are your least favourite part of being a detective. Nothing is worse than sitting the entire day, hoping for something to happen. You always called it the most boring aspect of your job. Even paperwork was more exciting. Problem was, you were very good at stakeouts. You somehow always noticed the change in a pattern that pointed to whatever you were looking for.

You sit across Harrison, your teacups on the table between you. The cafe is extremely busy, but you barely hear the noise around you. Your head is in filter modus. Tinder hadn’t yet given access to the account, so you and Harrison went to the place “James” had met up with Sally. You have been sitting here all day, going over some paperwork to pass the time, and with every hour your hope of seeing the person who pretended to be “James” dies a bit.

“What do you think will happen if tinder James is not Jason?” you wonder, stirring in your tea. Harrison looks up at your words.

“Well I am sure it has to be him. All the clues point to him,” he says, taking a sip of his tea. “The CCTV, suspects report, psychology sketch, background. His clean kills, any good copper knows how to clean up after himself. And we can’t find him at his home, because his wife kicked him out,”

“Good for her,” you mumble. Harrison chuckles, chugs the remainder of his tea and puts his papers in his bag. “Wait where are you going?”

“To the office. Tom is here to do the rest of the day with you. It’s only two hours.” he says. He gets up and stands up. He walks away, then turns around. He puts his hand on your shoulder. “Try not to kill him please,”

“Ha ha. I will try,” you say,

The hours with Tom are absolutely boring. He doesn’t even really look at you, let alone talk to you. And again, no one shows up. When the cafe closes you and Tom pack up your stuff, and walk outside. Then you feel your phone buzz. The screen flashes; Henry.

“Hey Henry”

“Are you in a car?”

“Almost, why?”

“Get in there and drive to Borough Market,” you turn to Tom and start walking faster.

“Get in the car Tom!” you almost shout as you run towards the driver side. Your emergency senses kick in, adrenaline courses through your body.

“We got to his profile, he has a meeting there in less than 10 minutes. Seventeen year old Canadian girl,”

“Shit,” you curse, and you slam the car door behind you. Your fingers fumble to get the key in the lock, but when you have it you immediately drive away. Tom hasn’t even closed his door properly. You put Henry on speaker and push on the button you put your sirens on. In front of you the cars make way for you.

“We’re driving, tell me everything,”

“We just got access to his profile, and we saw the meeting. At Borough market, 6 PM by the fudge stand. Harrison is at the station, he won’t make it in time. Look for Jason, and the girl has blonde hair, blue eyes. Her Tinder says she is nineteen, but we looked her up and she is seventeen. Harrison told me you two are closer, so hopefully you’ll be on time. He is on his way. I have to go,” you hear the beep that signals Henry has ended the call, and you take a quick left.

“Do you need me to navigate?” Tom asks. He is checking his gun, and picks a weapon stick from the glove compartment. You start to shake your head, but then you nod.

“It’s rush hour, could you check the streets I need to avoid?” you are calm now, your initial surge of energy is slowly leaving your body, making room for your more rational side. Tom is looking through his maps, and reassures you that you’ll be fine with the usual route. No detours.

“Could you check my gun Tom?” you ask, and you lean forward so he can grab it from your belt. He hesitates. “Come on I ask you to. You won’t even touch me. Quickly now ‘cause we are almost there,” He grabs the gun and starts to check it. You see you are getting closer to your destination, so you switch off the sirens. No need to alert everyone you are coming. Two minutes later you see Borough Market appear.

“Okay we both get out and walk to the stand. Do you know where it is?” Tom shakes his head. You park the car, put your gun back in your belt and cover it with your coat. “Luckily I do. Follow me, stay close, we don’t want to attract attention.” You walk towards him and he wraps his arm around you so you are close to him. It is an old tactic, one you have done about a million times with Harrison. You look like an uninteresting couple, and your heads are close, so whispering is easy. Perfect cover. But you feel Tom’s arm burning through your coat. That never happens with Harrison.

“Okay, lead the way,” he says, you shake your head to get rid of your thoughts and you start walking towards the market. You see the fudge stand, but no one suspicious around there. It’s busy, the market is closing soon, and the sellers are trying to sell their last bits.

“Do you see anything?” Tom asks, and you shake your head. You see a plate with testers for fudge and you walk over there. With the fudge in your hand you seize the opportunity to stand still and observe the whole market. Then you feel Tom shake your shoulder.

“There, at six.” you slowly look to your six o’clock, and you see a young girl. “She matches the description. We ought to approach her,” Tom says. You nod and step towards the girl, but then you freeze. At the other side of the market, close to your car, you see a man. Jason. You are sure, and then you see him dragging another young girl with him.

“Tom it's not her, there he is,” you don’t realise you are running until you feel yourself push people out of the way. Jason and the girl are about 50 metres away from you, but there are many people between you. Jason pushes the young girl in the back seat of a car, and you hear yourself shouting.

“Stop! Stop!” You run as fast as you can, but you feel your gut sinking. You are too late. As you see Jason step into his car you memorise his number plate. You try to throw yourself before the car, but you are too late to stop him from driving away. You pull your gun out, but you realise it is of no use in this busy street. You could hit his tires, but then he might swerve and hit some bystanders. You curse loudly.

“In the car, now!” you hear Tom shout from behind you. You start to run again, and launch yourself into the driver's seat. Your sirens blare, your tires screech, but you have him in vision. As you are driving you recollect your breath, and next to you you see Tom fastening his seat belt.

He calls Harrison, who says he can already see your car. Without looking away from the road you ramble the number plate to Tom, who repeats it for Harrison. You hardly hear their conversation, but you do feel the blood pumping in your ears. The car before you is driving unsteady, as if Jason is not yet sure what he is going to do.

“Where is he going to go? It is rush hour, traffic is awful! And he drives towards the city centre,” it doesn’t make sense to you. Until you see him diving towards a bridge over the Thames. Then it clicks.

“Shit, he is going to drive off the bridge!” you shout. You look to your side, and in Tom's eyes you see the same conclusion you just came to. Your mind races, searching for a solution. You see the car before you change lanes. You push the gas harder, accelerating and you also turn to the left lane, “I am gonna block him!”

“Are you sure? We might get hurt,” Tom panics. His hands are gripping on the side of his seat, his eyes wide from the adrenaline. Or fear, you don't know. Before you the car goes to the left, heading straight towards the rather fragile looking railing of the bridge.

“He will hit the seat behind me, not us,” you say, changing lanes, “I am like 75% sure this won’t end up getting us hurt. Badly.”

“That is not very comforting, Won’t he push us off?”

“No I don’t think so, trust me Tom!” you are driving faster now, and his car is almost near the edge. The last seconds before the hit seem like ages. With a bang the car hits the side of yours, precisely in the backseat of the driver side, as you predicted. You moan in pain as you feel the impact.

“Get out Tom! Catch him.” you scream, trying to cover up the fact that you are in pain. Getting your own door open appears impossible, and you use your gun to smash the window to get out. You feel adrenaline rush through your body, your mind blank, nerves numb. Your moves are by instinct, and when you see Jason run towards you, you throw your body towards him, blocking his way and bringing him to the ground.

“Jason Sanders, you are arrested on the suspicion of triple murder and attempted murder. Anything you say now can be used later in court,” you say as Tom gets the handcuffs on him. Behind you the other police cars all stop, and you hear Harrisons voice as you shakily get up.

“What was that!?! Y/n that was not safe!” you ignore his worries. First you need to see the girl. You stand beside Jason's car opening his backdoor, and you try to lift the unconscious girl out. Another officer takes it from your hands. “Are you hurt?” Harrison continues as he comes to a halt next to you.

“No I normally leak blood out of my side,” your adrenaline rush slowly comes to an end, and you feel the pain now. Your head feels heavy. “Probably cut it when I climbed out of the window. Also, I might have a concussion from the hit,”

Ten minutes later you sit in the open back of the ambulance. The victim is in the bed inside, and you were relieved to hear she had only passed out from the shock, but furthermore she was fine. After they checked on her a medic found time to stitch the scratch on your side. After their close examination your injuries are deemed minor. A deep scratch that looks fine after it is nicely stitched up and wrapped in bandage. After careful inspection of your head, they conclude you don’t even have a concussion.

But after that, you catch some faint whispers about shock and mental damage as they sneakily look at you. A blanket is wrapped around your body, and a few moments later, you also receive a cup of tea. And another blanket. You are about to run away when Harrison walks up to you. He clears his throat when he sees you, and gives you a quick hug.

“I have a lot of things to say, but none of them matter now. Well done on getting him,”

“Harrison, they keep putting blankets on me, I don’t want the blankets,” you say, shrugging them off and giving them to him.

“You’re in shock” he says, putting the blanket back over your shoulders. You shrug it off again.

“Yeah, not really. And even if, that wouldn’t mean I need blankets, I need booze,”

“Booze and a concussion are a terrible combination,” Harrison shakes his head at your comment.

“I don’t even have a concussion or pain meds. Really, I am fine. Where is Tom? I probably have to say sorry for risking his life.”

“Only if I file a complaint with HR,” Tom's voice makes you sit up straight and look around you. He walks around the corner of the ambulance. “Something I won’t do,”

“Oh great. Well I am sorry anyways. It was way too risky.”

“You executed it perfectly,” he says, a hint of a smile on his face, “Now I believe you said something about a drink, didn't you?”

Harrison laughs with you, but then excuses himself.

“You two go have that drink, I need to fill in all the paperwork. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,”

“Your loss,” Tom says, before turning to you. “Let’s go?”

“Lets go.” You say, smiling as he offers his hand to help you up. You think of slapping it away, but then you feel the stitches pulling in your side and you decide to take up his offer. Just this once.

~ One year later ~

“I can’t believe you had to almost kill him before he dropped his bitchy act,” Claire says laughing as she gives you the paper back. You and Tom shine on the cover of The Guardian, a press photograph taken on the night of Sanders' arrest. “J. Sanders locked up, evidence overload in serial killer case” the headline says.

After the arrest things moved slowly, Sanders his lawyer was a very persistent man. But now, months later the court case was wrapped, Sanders' guilt proven, and the judge ruled for the maximum sentence.

“Yes, his resting bitch face was a pain during that investigation,” you chime in, taking a sip from your beer.

“I am glad I dropped it though,” Tom says next to you, his arm wrapped around you. You smile, pressing a kiss on his cheek. So much has changed.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield #my writing #queen-bunnyears

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wendimydarling · 4 years

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Title: Convenience

Summary: Clark doesn’t like sleeping out in the cold.

Pairing: Clark Kent x OFC Reader

Word Count: 2546

Warnings: Sex. There is sex.

A/N: So all this lovely text got deleted after I shared it. This story was a beast, but worth it to power through and finish. The idea came from this NSFW gif here, which gave me the thought “what if Clark was an escort while he was a nomad looking for his parents?” which then translated to “what if he just parachuted into each town if he didn’t intend to stay?”

Song drabble number ? for the 500 Event, sent in anonymously!

Clark wasn’t saving for much, he was just looking for a place where he could remain anonymous, a place to hide from who he was. And that required a certain amount of cash put away. But it was hard to find a job when he was constantly on the road, and he was always on the road it seemed. No jobs meant no money, and no money meant no place to sleep.

So Clark would offer out his services. He was young, handsome, and had the stamina of... well, of Superman.

He never asked for money. His preferred payment of choice was a place to crash and a shower, and breakfast if he could swing it. Though he’d never tell them that was what he was up to. Why hurt their feelings?

This particular evening, he’d come upon a small town in the middle of nowhere, as usual. Clark went straight to the local dive bar; that was the best place to find pretty girls desperate enough to take a man home. He entered the establishment and surveyed the room, a gruff expression etched into his features. Slim pickings tonight. Still, it was early, so he went to the bar, checking his wallet to see if he had enough for dinner and the drinks that would be needed. Just enough for the drinks. Fuck.

Clark ordered a beer, making kind but vague eyes at the girls staring at him from the corner. He was hoping for something a little more appetizing but beggars can’t be choosers, and either of them would be a better choice than sleeping out in the cold. He was nearing the end of his beer and had just resigned himself to his fate when she walked in.

Target acquired.

She was all legs; a pencil skirt gracefully hugged her figure and a low cut blouse accentuated her small bust. She was clearly out of place here, which meant either she was meeting someone, or she’d had a bad day and desperately needed a drink. Long dark curls hung over one of her shoulders, and she met his gaze with large, bambi eyes. He tipped his beer toward her and went back to his phone; she would not be easy prey.

He had to make her comfortable, make her seem as though he wasn’t interested. She was pretty enough that some lug would make a move on her soon, and then Clark would step in and defend her. That typically works. She’d be grateful, offer him a beer of thanks, and then they’d get to chatting and he’d turn on the charm. She’d be putty in his hands.

Sure enough, a big ugly brute that had downed probably three beers too many sauntered up to the woman.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he slurred, running a finger along her thigh. The woman grabbed his hand and firmly removed it from her leg, but the brute caught her wrist, pulling her close and leaning in for a kiss.

Clark watched the exchange through his glass, seeing how she’d manage. The woman tried to fight the man off but she was clearly overpowered, and her words weren’t working. Clark decided now was the time to intervene. He stepped in and clapped a hand on the idiot’s shoulder, squeezing harder than he should. The man was taken aback by his strength but he took a swing and Clark let him, knowing it would do far more damage to the brute, and would earn him some sympathy points. He pretended to fall down while the brute was thrown out of the bar, howling in pain and clutching his hand.

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

Her large brown eyes met his steely blue as she touched his shoulder, and Clark shook his head in mock confusion, standing up at his full height to tower over her. He could hear her heart race faster, could see the blood in her veins pumping harder at his nearness.

Target locked.

He pressed the heel of his palm to his eye a couple of times.

“I’m fine, are you?”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“Happy to help. No one else should bother you.”

Clark turned to head back to his drink.

“Can I buy you a beer?”

There it is.

“No it’s alright; I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Come on, it’s the least I can do to say thank you.”

Clark turned to look at her, a smile on his face.

“Well, if you insist.”

Bullseye.

~~~~~~~

Claire had just wanted a drink. She hated this town, and couldn’t wait until this weekend when she could go back home. Being assigned to this town for two months had been hell, but in her line of work, shitholes like this just came with the paycheck.

But every now and then some fun would come her way. Like the man behind her.

The man with impressive stature and beautiful black curls. The man with soft eyes, steel blue eyes that held a haunted past and an uncertain future. Steel… it’s fitting. That’s what I’ll call him. Claire didn’t want a relationship, just a good fuck, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Why hurt his feelings?

They were back at her apartment, she jimmying her key in the fickle lock as Steel held her close, his breath tickling her ear. His hands were at her hips, hiking her skirt ever so slowly up over her ass.

“Let me,” he whispered, and Claire’s knees nearly buckled. His voice was so low, so husky, and it shot fire straight through her. Steel’s fingers gently slipped over and between hers as he grabbed the key from her, reaching around her body to grasp the door knob. A shiver ran down Claire’s spine as he kissed the back of her neck. The door swung open in seconds.

Claire stepped into the small apartment. Steel followed, greedily grabbing at her waist as she toed off her pumps. He spun her around and cupped her face gently with his hands, the first brush of his lips slow, heated. He smelled like cedar and smoke, and tasted like whiskey and hops. There was a pleasant flavor to his tongue that she couldn’t describe, one she’d never tasted before on any man.

“Where’s your bedroom,” he asked, whispering again, and Claire moaned against his mouth.

“End of the hallway.”

He picked Claire up with such surprising ease, and never in her life had she felt so small. It was as if she weighed nothing. She straddled his broad waist and his hands grasped her ass as he walked her down the hall, his lips never leaving hers. As they reached the bedroom, Claire felt his fingers clasp the zipper of her skirt, revealing her soft skin slowly as he continued to taste her lips.

Every touch felt gentle and firm but calculated, as if he was restraining himself from something. So when her blouse was suddenly yanked open, Claire gasped in surprise. Quickly relieved of the torn garment, Steel hoisted her in the air again and tossed her onto the bed. A pang shot through her belly at the feeling of being so roughly handled, and the way he licked his lips as he stared at her like she was his prey left her loins singing.

Steel undressed carefully as Claire stared at him, and she wondered briefly if he was even human. Every sinew, every muscle stood out from underneath taut skin, dark curls trailing down his abdomen to frame the largest cock she’d ever seen. He stared back, his eyes taking in her own petite form, decorated elegantly with the dark undergarments she’d been left in.

He crawled to her slowly, hovering above her, trapping her in the cage of his body. His lips fell back onto hers, his hands tracing every line of her skin. Claire shivered at the touch; it had been awhile since she’d brought someone home, and she wondered how she’d forgotten the heavenly feeling of being pressed into a mattress by the delicious weight of a man.

His lips were talented, dedicated, travelling the length of her neck to the valley of her breasts. His hot breath warmed her nipple through her bra, and he gently pulled the cup down to reveal the sensitive nub to his tongue. Claire arched her back and Steel took the opportunity to reach underneath her, unclasping her bra and holding her in that position to afford himself more access to her chest. She gasped as his lips returned to the beautiful center of her breast, sucking it effortlessly into a peak that he could flick with the tip of his tongue.

Claire writhed and moaned beneath him, gasping and mewling at the feel of his mouth on her flushed skin. He trailed wet kisses down her ribs to her hips, fingers running along her thighs, hands forcing her wider. He grasped her underwear in his teeth and pulled gently, his nose running along her leg until Claire joined him in his nakedness. Those teeth made their way back up her other leg, nipping at her tender flesh as she whined, her soft sounds begging him for more.

Steel’s fingers discovered her sex, slipping easily through the slick that had coated her folds. Claire couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this wet, this fast, but the moment his fingers slid deep inside of her body she realized that she didn’t care. He was knuckle deep and somehow able to push so hard that Claire’s body snapped; no build up, no swell. She had been picked up and dropped over the edge, and shock rang clear on her face as she came without warning around his fingers.

He watched her with the knowing look of a man who has done this before, a man who knew the effect he had on women. But the gleam in Steel’s eye had a dullness to it that Claire noticed, almost a sadness. It made her want to comfort him, though she didn’t know why. She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek with her thumb and he wrapped his arm around her waist, hoisting her into a sitting position.

Claire was higher than she expected and looked down to discover that Steel was holding her literally with just his hand, impaling her core with his fingers. Shocked pleasure contorted her face as she snapped her head up to look at him, confusion and arousal striking her features. A second orgasm barrelling toward her at lightning speed the moment he wiggled his fingers against her cervix, and Claire clasped her hands around Steel’s neck, her forehead falling to his shoulder as her body convulsed. He held her close, burying his face in her hair. His lips surround her collarbone, the comforting caress of soft kisses alighting on her flushed skin as she rejoins him from the clouds.

“Well fuck,” Claire exclaimed breathlessly, and Steel chuckled, brushing her clit on purpose as he removed his fingers from her wet heat. She gasps and bucks her hips, sliding off of his lap and onto the bed. He grinned at her, flipping her over effortlessly. Claire felt like a rag doll, and it made her bite her lip in anticipation.

She watched him through hooded eyes as he tore open the square foil. How had she missed his beauty when she first saw him in the bar? Long lashes brushed his cheeks every time he blinked, dark curls hung over his forehead. He had a strong jaw, and there was a smattering of freckles over his nose that were only just barely visible in the low light of the room. He looked up at her and Claire’s heart skipped a beat at the dark lust that had taken over his amiable features.

Steel knelt on the bed and grasped her hips, yanking Claire up to meet him. She felt the tip of his length press against her folds, but for some reason he hesitated. Claire pushed against him, whining softly and urging him to continue. Faster than she thought possible he was sheathed inside of her and she cried out, the sudden fullness bursting through her abdomen. She gasped and moaned, panting heavily as her body tried to reject him, but Steel slowly eased them down so that he was lying on top of her, holding still so that Claire could grow accustomed to his size. He kissed her cheek softly, slipping a hand underneath her to tease her opening.

Claire shifted as Steel’s fingers cupped her mound. He spread her folds, softly stroking her clit with his middle finger as she adjusted slowly. She clenched around him, filled with an unbelievable desire to be fucked raw by this astonishing person. He thrust into Claire once, testing her, and she uttered a moan, throaty and full of need.

“Please!” Claire whispered urgently. Steel didn’t hesitate this time; he began thrusting into her in earnest, ripping her apart seam by seam. Claire cried out each time he struck deepest, her eyes closed, face skewed in the painful pleasure of sexual rapture. She could hear Steel’s voice in her ear, grunts and growls winding the coil in her belly tighter and tighter. One of his hands laced with hers for support and the other continued to play with her folds, spurring her on to another tumble over the edge.

Unable to move, the coil sprang open, and stars burst behind Claire’s eyes as she came. She heard Steel groan as her walls milked his cock, and he sat the two of them up suddenly. His hands grasped her hips and slammed her repeatedly down onto his pulsing length, and Claire fisted her hands in the sheets, her orgasm remaining strong. Harder and stronger, stronger than she’d ever felt a man before, he snapped his hips up into her until she felt his cock swell, releasing everything he had. Claire slumped to the bed when he was finished, exhausted beyond belief.

Panting heavily, she turned and watched through tired eyes as Steel cleaned up. He hardly seemed out of breath and Claire couldn’t believe it; she was gasping for air. He came back over to the bed and laid the blanket on top of her, and Claire grabbed his hand and pulled. She didn’t want to be alone tonight. Steel slipped under the covers and draped his arm over her still-trembling form, brushing her hair softly from her face. Her eyes soon closed and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~

Clark watched the woman’s chest rise and fall as she slept. Everything about her was beautiful. He closed his eyes and listened to the thump of her heart, the rush of blood sweeping through her pulse points, the sharp draft of air swelling her lungs. The gentle ambient melody of her body lulled Clark into a sense of calm, and he found that self-loathing that often accompanied his thoughts in this moment didn’t appear this time; he was peaceful for once. He snuggled into her warmth as he fell asleep with her, comforted by the soft bed and the notion of a shower tomorrow. He might also find comfort in her body again in the morning, but for now, this was enough.

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

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