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#despite it being an angst fill I just couldn't make it super sad
munson-blurbs · 1 year
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could you write about eddie and the reader suppose to be going out together but the reader thinks eddie stood them up but he got into a super bad car accident is in the hopsital and the reader doesn’t find out about it til a couple days later
I couldn't make reader wait too long because I couldn't do that to myself her, but I hope you like this! Sorry it took so long.
Warnings: car accident, mention of injuries, slight angst, some language
WC: 1.2k
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Eddie was supposed to pick you up for your first date at 7:00 PM. You didn't expect him to show up on time; you'd been friends with him long enough to know that punctuality was not his forte, but he was now an hour and a half late. That was a lot, even for Eddie.
You dialed his phone number for the third time, listening to the ring until Wayne's recorded voice greets you.
You've reached Eddie and Wayne. Leave a message.
"Hey, Eds," you start. "It's me again. Just wondering if you were on your way, or if you forgot about...anyway, call me back when you get this." You hang up the phone, tears prickling in your eyes.
Maybe it was all a prank, or a stupid dare from one of the Hellfire guys. It made sense; why else would Eddie have asked you out after all this time? You'd been crushing on him for years.
You settle onto the couch, grabbing a bag of potato chips despite your appetite all but disappearing at the prospect of being the butt of their joke. You pick up the phone again, but you don't call Eddie this time.
"Henderson residence," Dustin's chipper voice perks you up briefly; the boy was always kind to you.
"Hi, Dustin," you say somberly, trying not to show how sad you truly are.
"Y/N? he asks, worry evident in his tone. "What's wrong? Aren't you supposed to be out with Eddie?"
You feel the tears slip down your cheeks as your emotions get the best of you. "He stood me up," you tell Dustin quietly. "Be honest with me, please--was this all a joke?"
"No. No, no no," he insists. "Eddie hasn't shut up about you or this date for ages. And he would never do that to you. The guy worships the ground you walk on."
You roll your eyes at his dramatics; carrying your books for you and kicking Gareth or Jeff out of the passenger seat of the van so you could sit there certainly was not worshipping the ground you walk on.
"Look," Dustin continues, "let me figure out what's going on. I'll call you as soon as I get info."
"Thanks," you croak out. "I really appreciate it."
"Of course," he says before hanging up with a click.
~
The phone ringing wakes you up from a dreamless sleep. You've passed out on the couch; the clock on the wall reads 2:37 AM. Who would be calling at this hour? Dustin was an intense kid, but even he would wait until the sun was up to call you back.
You snatch up the receiver before the bleating can wake your family. "H-hello?" you harshly whisper.
"Hi, is this Y/F/N Y/L/N?" an unfamiliar female voice comes over the line.
"Yeah? Who's this?" you question suspiciously. She didn't sound like a telemarketer or a crank caller.
"I'm Shelby, a nurse at Hawkins General Hospital," she explains. "Your friend, Edward Munson, was brought here earlier tonight after he was in a car accident." She pauses for a moment. "You were listed as an emergency contact on some previous paperwork he'd filled out the last time he was here."
You remember that; he'd broken his ankle last year while jumping off of the stage at the Hideout. Since Wayne was at work, he'd put down your name and number.
"Car accident?" you sputter, sitting up quickly. You're suddenly wide awake. "Is he okay?"
"He is now," she tells you gently. "His car was hit head-on by someone driving the wrong way, and it flipped. The paramedics had to cut him out of his seatbelt."
Your throat is dry and you feel your stomach lurch. "Oh my God," you whisper.
"We're still waiting on the scan results to ensure there's no internal bleeding," Shelby continues, "but he's awake now, which is a good sign. Keeps asking for you."
Your heart melts at this. "I'll be right there," you tell her earnestly. You technically weren't supposed to take the car without your parents' permission, but they would make an exception for this circumstance.
The drive there seems to take an eternity, and you run into the emergency room as soon as you kill the engine.
"I'm here to see Eddie--Edward--Munson?" you tell the receptionist, panting from your sprint. "I'm his emergency contact." You give her your name, and she nods.
"He's in room 110," she informs you, pointing down a quiet hallway. You quickly find his room, knocking gently at the already open door.
"Tryin' to sleep," Eddie's groggy voice floats by, thinking it's another nurse dropping by to take his vitals yet again.
"Eds," you say softly, "it's me."
His eyes widen as he unsuccessfully tries to push himself up on the bed. He winces at the pain and slumps back down.
"Don't get up," you tell him, pulling the armchair over to his bedside. You take his hand in yours, mindful of the IV needle taped to the back. A brace collars his neck and his left arm is wrapped in a sling. Bruises are forming around his eyes, and scratches mar his cheeks and forehead. "What happened?" you ask, rubbing your thumb along his.
He grimaces as he tries to look into your eyes, momentarily forgetting about his neck brace. "I was driving down Miller Road and this asshole comes barreling down, smashing into the van and sending it flying." He exhales, resting his good arm around his aching ribs. "Stupid schmuck didn't even stop. Someone else ran into a nearby store and called 9-1-1."
"I'm just glad you're alive," you murmur, gently placing a kiss on his cheek. "But wait," you pause, "why were you driving down Miller? You don't need to go that way to get to my house."
Eddie manages a small laugh. "Yeah, but I needed to go that way to get to the florist," he admits. "Wayne told me that if I waited all this time to take you out and didn't even bother to bring you flowers, he would smack me with my own guitar."
You giggle at the thought of Wayne threatening his nephew. "Knew that man was a romantic at heart."
"Nah, he just didn't want me to mess things up with the girl of my dreams." A blush creeps into his scarred face.
"Well," you sigh, looking around the room, "this wasn't exactly what I pictured for our first date, but it'll do." You stand up and release his hand. "Give me a sec, okay?"
"Where are y--" but he can't finish his thought before you dash out of the room, returning 15 minutes later with an armful of treats from the hospital cafeteria.
"All right," you start, placing the food on the table next to him, "we've got some sandwiches, pretzels, potato chips, and apple juice. Oh," you remember, "and this." You hand him a plastic container with a piece of chocolate cake. "The cashier said it's the best thing there, although he may have just been trying to get rid of me."
You fiddle with the radio until you find something resembling smooth jazz. Eddie wrinkles his nose. "What the hell is this?"
"It's mood music," you tease. "Did you think we were gonna listen to metal on our first date?"
Eddie chuckles lightly, careful of his sore body. "I'd listen to anything as long as I'm with you."
Your face lights up. "Even--"
"Not Madonna!"
--
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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years
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Bittersweet (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)
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Summary: OH Book 1 Chapter 4 written from Dolores Hudson's POV
A/N: I really wanted to do this because Dolores is such an amazing person and this chapter is one of my favourites in the entire OH series. This picks up from the office fire and ends at Dolores's death.
A/N 2: The flashback portions are indented
If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🤍
Characters: Dolores Hudson, Ethan Ramsey, f!MC (Pooja Sharma)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Pooja Sharma (f!MC)
Word Count: around 2.8 K
Rating: General
Category: Fluff then Angst
Disclaimer: PB owns most of the characters and some of the dialogues. I only own my MC.
Triggers: Complications in pregnancy, Few Curse Words, Character Death
Prompts: @choicesaprilchallenge2021 Day 23: Classic/Classical
Other Works
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Clickety-clack!
Dolores's fingers danced on the keyboards in a swift motion as she strived to complete this last email and get home and have a sleep that she missed yesterday due to late-night cravings.
Around her, a chaos of whispers spread as her colleagues engaged in mindless chitter-chatter of the last hour before the end of the office day.
A few nudges of Hey, Dolores! and its variants reached her, but she steered past them, focusing completely on her work.
Just one more line anndd,
Done!
She hit the send and the ping of the 'sent' notification calmed her overworked nerves.
Come on, Lil tadpole, let's file these papers, get ice cream and go home.
She fondly rubbed her belly. 26 weeks in and yet the fact that she was going to become Mamma Froggy was overwhelming and exciting.
She got the prints and in a hurry, nearly got a paper cut.
Careful there! She cajoled herself and started filing those messy sheets of her hard work of the day.
She was almost done just as-
Waaahhh!
The blazing sound, very much like a siren's, reached all of them, leading to the eruption of panicked commotion between all of them.
They had been run through the fire drill so many times that they didn't need to be told that it was a fire alarm.
Dolores left all her possessions, carrying only her bag with the stuffed froggy she had bought for her baby and tried to run.
But being pregnant doesn't make it very easy. Even more, if there was a fucking fire at the place.
People went haywire. Very few cared about the fact that she was carrying a baby, and they should have the minimum decency to help. Most would selfishly try to save themselves, not giving a damn about anyone.
Dolores tried to pave a way for reaching the elevator. It was nearly impossible for her to get down the stairwell in time to save herself from the hazardous situation. She could see that most of the people had already evacuated.
Why was the fire department not here yet?
The fire was ablaze, surroundings hot, and amidst all, Dolores walked slowly, worried only about her little tadpole and not herself.
She pressed the buttons of the elevator. Waited. But nothing budged.
Fuck it!
Smoke engulfed her and she felt suffocated. All through the light-headedness, she could faintly hear, the siren of the ambulance. She hoped someone would save her from this fiery hell.
But there was no one to help her. No one around. The building burnt and if she did not think of something quickly, she would burn with it as well.
Not viewing any other options, she screamed with as much strength she could garner. Once, Twice, Thrice.
The next actions happened quicker than the blink of an eye. She saw a handsome EMT rush towards her. Even though she was already in a blazing environment, she couldn't stop the he's hot reflex of her brain cells. He came to her and reassured her that he would be able to save her and her baby, picked her up, and slowly, yet swiftly, got out of there.
Just like a superhero.
She thought of telling this story of Super-Man coming to save him and his Mama to her baby and the thought made her giggle.
Her head was light, and she felt choked, but her mind would keep going to the little angel of her womb, worrying only for him.
The last she remembers was reaching the ambulance and coughing vigorously. She couldn't breathe normally. She tried and failed miserably. A slow sensation of blacking out and after that, everything blank.
After who knows how long, Dolores feels the glare of white lights around her giving her eyes a painful competition to open up. She squints, tiredness spreading through her body. From office work or the life-threatening experience? She does not know.
She slowly, very slowly, tries to sit up, her hand on her belly, tenderly stroking it, as if to let the child know that his Mamma would not let any harm come to him. Nurses check in on her, one of them replacing the oxygen mask with a nose tube, and she felt a bit more relaxed.
As she was taking in the surroundings, she realized,
Edenbrook!
Coming back here after so many years brought back many memories. The first time she came here. Oh, how panicked she was! She was getting jitters but that calm and brilliant doctor took care of her, not only inside the hospital but also outside it.
Dr Ethan Ramsey.
He still worked here, he had told her in his last email. I need to meet him! She thought.
When was the last time they had met? In that coffee shop last year, right? It had been long.
She traced the name she had thought for her tadpole over and over again on her belly as if to make him memorize it before coming here to her, and looked around.
There was a minimum difference between the room she had been kept in the first time and the one in which she was now, but the time gap made her feel everything was new.
All of a sudden the door swayed, letting in a young doctor and,
Ethan!
She was genuinely excited about seeing him. Of all the possibilities, she hadn't really considered the fact that he would be coming to treat her. He has important cases to take care of than petty smoke inhalation, right?
A frown appears on his forehead. "What did you get yourself into this time, Dolores?"
His stern tone is the tough layer of a walnut, which hid his soft corner, the concerned heart. She smiled at the realization.
She quickly filled him in with all the details. The fire. The hot superman. The baby. Everything.
She finds the young doctor's surprise about Ethan having friends amusing. The look of surprise she had on her face was priceless.
But when the doctor asked her,
"Was Dr Ramsey always so mean?" she guards her mouth using her hand, "And so handsome?"
It was Dolores's turn to be shocked. She knew just how much Ethan hated interns. He used to whine about how stupid they were all the time to her, online & offline. And here was this intern, having enough courage to ask her such a question in front of him.
Impressive!
"This man's definitely got grouchier than before, but even then he had an edge"
"And as for handsome, I think he has aged like a fine wine" Dolores winked and Ethan fumbled for words.
When he got his tone back, it was strict.
No matter what anyone else thought, Dolores knew the real Ethan. The one without his rough and tough exterior and mean demeanour.
And that Ethan, if he ever came out, would make everyone fall in love with him.
As the doctors mumbled between themselves, she looked around, searching for something.
Umm Hmm. She couldn't see it.
"Excuse me Doctor Sharma" Both of them turned to look at her. "I remember having my bad when the hunk brought me out. Did they bring it here?" She asks, anxiety on its borderline, ready to burst out.
She needed it. Very Much.
Dr Sharma looks around for a bit, carefully conscious eyes trained to spot abnormalities. Her eyes, soon enough, fall on the side table of the bed and she picks the purse up and hands it over to Dolores.
Another frantic search follows. She turns all the contents up and down, her happy demeanour replaced with a visible frown.
It's not here, she says, evidently panicked.
A sadness spreads on her face.
"I must have dropped it in the office" She is on the verge of crying.
Dr Sharma places a kind hand on her shoulder. What Happened? Her questioning eyes wordlessly ask.
Dolores sighs, "It probably sounds stupid but I saw this adorable little frog on my lunch break and had to get it for my little tadpole."
"My parents are gone and the father's not in the picture." She adoringly places a hand on her swollen belly, "I just want everything to be perfect for him."
Dr Sharma gives her shoulder a gentle push of reassurance, and adds, "It's not stupid Dolores, absolutely not. I feel like you're going to be a great mom."
Her words make Dolores smile despite the upsetting circumstances, "Thank You. I- I just wished I hadn't lost it."
She stays lost in the thoughts and daydreams of her little tadpole playing with his first gift, growing ever more upset with every passing second.
"I and Dr Ramsey will find it for you!" Dr Sharma's excited tone jolts her out of her thoughts.
She is surprised first and slowly a smile appears, "Really Ethan? You would do that for me?"
He hesitates.
"Erm- Yes, sure." He fumbles.
"Dr Sharma, let's get this urine sample to the lab first. I will meet you in the lot in ten minutes."
Relieved and Happy, Dolores exclaims, "I am 26 weeks pregnant, Ethan. Not gonna take 10 minutes to make me pee!"
And in 15 minutes, they take her urine sample away and bid adieu with a promise of bringing her token of love for her tadpole back.
She was extremely grateful for Dr Sharma. She doubted if Ethan had given in the first time if it had not been her taking initiative.
Wait a Minute.
Ethan Ramsey listened to an intern? That too, in the first time itself? The observation blew her mind.
She recounted the time he had called her to his home to give a dinner treat. Lovely memories of a different face of the man came to her mind like the waves reaching the shore, one after the other.
"Mmm... Ethan, this is delicious!" Dolores found herself falling deeply in love with this masterpiece of Georgian stuffed chicken.
"Thank You, but it wouldn't have got done without your help" Ethan was never the type to take credit. Boast, Huh? What's that?
That's what she liked the most about him. A fine, handsome man, talented without bounds, a successful doctor having shitloads of money and a chef. He was a complete package and yet seemed to be subtly unaware of it.
They chatted about everything from opera to music to their first meet. It was a jolly time.
That is, until, the conversation landed on romance.
"So, seeing anyone?"
"No, not currently." He blushes a bit.
"Imagine" Dolores leans back on her chair, stretching her legs, "if, I said if, you fell in love with," she pauses to look at his curious face, "an intern?"
"Impossible."
It came even before she had finished the word. Dolores was amused.
"Just imagine!"
"I don't want to waste time imagining something as implausible as that. Can we talk about something else please?"
And here he was today, listening to an intern, a different demeanour than usual. Not that it was love, yet, but there was something.
Was he impressed by her?
He talked differently, listened patiently to the young doctor. That Ethan Ramsey who would not stand with an intern for 5 minutes, listened to one?
Anyone who knew him would laugh off the fact and say it was a joke.
Dolores made sure that if it happens, the falling in love with an intern, she will not let Ethan see the end of it. Teasing him to annoyance, yes that's what she would do.
She turned on some soft classical music on her phone, spreading an instant calm and dozed off for a while...
She gets up with a start on the sound of the door opening. She rubs her eyes to get a better view of the people in front of her.
It was Ethan and Dr Sharma!
She looked at them and yes! there it was, her tadpole's froggy.
She was overjoyed.
"You got it!" Dolores breaks into a grin as the sterilized frog is given to her.
"Happy now?" Ethan asks, the faintest glimmer of happiness in his eyes.
"Yes, very, very, much! Thank you so much, Ethan."
She pulls Dr Sharma into a small hug, "You too Dr Sharma, thank you!"
"Of course, Dolores." The young woman's beautiful face gleams at her, "and you can call me Pooja."
After few minutes of chit chat, Pooja leaves to get Dolores's reports.
"Switch on the TV Ethan, it's boring to sit here and do nothing."
"You know you can do better things than watching stupid TV shows?"
"I am doing it because I want to. The least who can do is help me." She shrugs.
"Fine, fine."
After going on a roundabout tour of the various broadcasted shows, they settled to watch a comedy.
Soon Ethan's stoicism got lost in the wilds and he started laughing along with her.
All the while Dolores held the Froggy affectionately to her tummy, to her little tadpole, as if to show it to him and ask if he likes it.
Amidst all the laughs, the medical reports are completely forgotten until there's a soft knock on the door and Ethan looks at someone from the corner of his eye and go out to meet them.
Still, she remains blissfully unaware of her health conditions and basks in the moments of delight she gets alone with her tadpole.
Her eyes remain glued to the TV screen until the doctors come in and from the morbid faces they wore, she knew that the reports were anything but good.
She switches off the TV.
"What is it? Ethan?"
Pooja steps forward, "I want you not to worry, Dolores."
She feels a mild panic attack bursting inside her, "T-That's what people say when there is something to be worried about. Is my tadpole okay?"
Pooja sighs, "Have you heard of preeclampsia? It's a disease affecting one out of ten pregnant women. In most cases, it is manageable, if monitored properly. But in your case-"
She pauses. And Dolores knows that whatever's coming will not be hopeful.
"It's serious."
Dolores quickly asks, "How serious?"
Not too much. Not too much. Please, god, not too much. She crosses her fingers.
"The blood flow to the placenta is slowing. It could deprive your baby of vital nutrients and oxygen."
With his morbid mask matching his melancholy tone, Ethan says, "Your baby is at risk."
Shit.
"B-But I can still feel the baby kicking!" She urges them to come and feel for themselves.
"Dolores it just means the delivery needs to be done early."
"Impossible." Dolores remarks with a deadly determination. "It's too soon."
"Babies delivered at 26 weeks have a good chance of survival." Dr Sharma tries to convince her.
"A-A chance?"
She is not going to play a game of chances with her beloved tadpole, her little jewel.
They keep convincing her.
"Yes he'll have to spend some time in the N.I.C.U and there are chances of post-birth complications-"
"And some don't make it at all. Is my baby is in danger now?" She asks with a motherly force.
"No, not immediately. But-" Ethan is on his tracks to convince her again.
"Then my little tadpole is staying put."
"Dolores—"
"No, Ethan! Just...give me some time! As long as you can give me. Please" It is a request from her heart, and she is on the verge of tears.
"I give you tonight. To come back to your senses."
When they leave, Dolores cries, caressing her belly, her little tadpole in there. She cannot take a risk with his goddamn life, never ever.
Tears roll down her cheeks and she holds the stuffed frog even tighter to herself, praying to god for his magical abilities and to save her baby.
Please.
She fell asleep while crying. When she wakes up, she finds a few unknown nurses and doctors standing there.
She tries to speak but cannot form words. Her head feels light, just like it did in the office building. She could not sense anything, swallowing was trouble.
She makes random sounds and the people come rushing to her, just as her body breaks into violent convulsions.
"We need to take her to the surgery, QUICK!"
They call for a code blue and everything that happens following that is a haze to her.
They are rushing her to the surgery. Her body shakes vigorously, and she can feel that she doesn't have much time left.
She holds the doctor's hand who was rushing her to the O.R.
"N-nam-me him-m E-Ethan."
And with that, she slowly spirals down the realm of unconsciousness, the last thought to ever strike her mind was,
Little tadpole, mamma loves you. You will be okay. Mamma will always be there with you, for you.
And with that her breath leaves her body, the last tear dropping on the O.R. bed.
As Ethan Hudson sees the light of his new life, Dolores passes away into the darkness.
I love you little tadpole.
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PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🤍.
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Text
Their Doll 6
Righteous and Condescending
B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader
series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.
Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing
Chapter Summary: Tony and Steve are dicks
Warnings: angst (I think), swearing
A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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"You're kidding, right?" Tony drawled, chewing obnoxiously on another blueberry. When Bruce didn't respond, Tony frowned slightly, turning to Steve. "He is kidding, right? I mean, she doesn't even look like Lily!" Tony said harshly, but Steve wonky sighed heavily before closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them he passed Tony the sheet of paper that held all of his answers.
Tony snatched the piece of paper from Steve's hand, eyes running over the black ink cynically over and over until he finally looked back up at the table of avengers. Bruce and Steve had hard expressions, whilst Thor and Clint looked genuinely amused with the situation, and y/n had a resentful glint in her eye.
Now that she met him again, seen him up close, she couldn't help her bitter tone as she snapped.
"How's Peter?" Her eyes were cold - colder than ice as she glared at Tony, hand balling into fists in her lap. Tony gulped, eyes darting around the room and avoiding her's.
"At school," he said slowly, "and living with his aunt May." Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.
"I'm surprised you even let that kid out of your sight. I mean come on, Dad, we're to too busy pampering your little protege to even spare a week to come and find me? Do I mean that little to you?" Y/n asked, a glint of tears now in her eyes. Tony made a face, as if he'd been wrongly accused, and held his hands out in defence.
"Come on, kiddo, that's hardly fair - he was only young, and struggling at that." Y/n gasped at her father.
"And I wasn't? After years of loving me you just decided he needed more than me? It hurt, dad, and I tried to tell you that but you didn't listen!" Y/n's voice broke on the last word, a tart finally slipping from her welling eyes.
"Maybe you should take this to another room?" Bruce asked weakly but his comment was lost the second Tony began talking.
"You think that kid didn't need my love too? His parents died, y/n! It's not like I just picked him up from the streets and discover he had superpowers!" Tony almost shouted, his raise in voice making y/n flinch. Her eyes blew wide at his statement and the man seemed to realise what he'd said the second her reaction was seen.
"I-I didn't mean to-"
"Mean to what, dad? Didn't mean to abandon me? Didn't mean to let HYDRA torture me, force me to kill for them?" Y/n interrupted, completely ignoring the bulging eyes glued on her and Tony as they bickered.
"Y/n, I-"
"You what? Are you sorry, dad? Do you feel bad?" She snapped, pushing harshly from her chair and standing inches in front of him. "Well fuck you, because you were so wrapped up with your little Spider-man project that you forgot me. And I deserve better than that." Y/n stormed away, fists clenched at her side as she tried not to punch her dad or anyone else in her fit of rage.
"Y/n!" Steve called after her, but the girl was already gone. Steve was out of his seat a second later, charging after the girl who he considered completely out of line. "Y/n!" Steve snapped, wrapping his nimble yet thick fingers around her bicep and spinning the girl to face him when he caught up to y/n.
"What the do you want, Rogers?" Y/n seethed, face burning with anger.
"You're completely out of line, cut it out." Steve grit through his teeth, grip on her arm only tightening as he pulled y/n closer to him. It was like they were sharing the same air, with how close he was now standing to her.
"So you're telling me that if you saw the man who left you to die - or worse - for the first time in years, you wouldn't be angry too?" Y/n demanded.
"Yeah, but unlike you, I wouldn't react so brashly." Steve countered. Y/n raised her brows.
"Oh, really?" She challenged.
"Really." Steve confirmed, jaw clenching and unclenching. "If you want to remain here, without rotting in a cell, I suggest you straighten out your attitude."
"Oh yeah? And what're you gonna do about it? I hardly doubt Natasha would approve, and Thor seemed very fond of me." Y/n smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. Steve's jaw clenched again and he quickly pushed her backwards.
Y/n made a 'hmph' noise as her back collided with the wall, air rushing from her lungs rather unpleasantly.
"I'd watch your mouth if I were you, little one." Steve was now the one seething, whilst y/n had become rather amused at his little 'lecture'. "I'm the one pulling the strings around here, so you better watch it." He continued, before pushing away from her and turning to walk down the hall. Before he was out of range, he called over his shoulder, "I want you down in the gym and ready to train in ten. Don't be late."
...
"Harder." He demanded, arms crossed as he watched y/n punch the bag. "I said harder, y/n, not faster." Steve scolded, frowning as the girl seemed to think speed was much better than technique.
Y/n's knuckles were sore from punching the bag repeatedly, the wraps that once acted as a thin barrier between her skin and the bag long gone as they'd unraveled after the relentless punching. Steve had scolded her about that, of course, remarking scornfully about how if she'd wrapped them better it wouldn't be an issue. He had done nothing but criticise her - from the way y/n wrapped her fists down the the damn way that her fist hit the bag.
She could do nothing right, in his eyes, and it was infuriating. They had been at it for three hours, and Steve had only allowed two drinks breaks over the whole course of that time. They started on hand-to-hand combat, and when Steve decided she couldn't even punch him right, he had taken it upon himself to teach her. And now here they were, two hours in and Steve was still making the same criticisms. It was hard to tell whether y/n just wasn't listening to him or if Steve just didn't like her.
It was most probably both.
"That's enough." Steve finally said and y/n came to a halt, breathing so heavily it was as if she'd been exercising for hours with no break-
Oh wait. She had.
"Let's take a look at your aim." Steve decided, already walking towards the target practice.    Y/n finally caught her breath, striding over to join the super Soldier and picking up a belt from the rack on the nearby wall - one filled with an array of throwing knives that she'd been itching to use once she'd gotten in there.
Despite wanting to use them, y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness - tinged with nostalgia - when she eyes the knives, the silver, glimmering blades only reminding her of The Soldier, and how he'd been left behind. Not that she figured he minded, after all, he never seemed to mind being HYDRA's assassin as long as he got fed.
"C'mon, Stark, let's hope your aim is much better than your punch. For your sake." Y/n clenched her teeth. Did he not remember she was a trained killer and assassin by HYDRA? Or was he just that self-righteous and condescending? The question was swiftly answered, and in the following moments y/n chose the latter option.
Y/n set herself up, pulling her shoulders back she made sure her stance was correct - just like the soldier taught her - and her wrist was loose - just like the soldier taught her - and threw. The knife pierced just to the right of the minuscule centre point, y/n's breathing steady and yet still heavy.
"Almost. Fix your stance."
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moonstruckholland · 4 years
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Can We Go Back To Bed? (t.h)
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Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Word count: 2,497
Warnings: angst, fluff if you squint, flashbacks
A/N: this was supposed to come out a couple of months ago 😅 but here she is, the first one shot of my Cosmic Soul series! Shout out to @fangirlwithasweettooth and @hollandsamor for being amazing and reading this over for me! I really hope y'all like it 💕
Tom had never felt as far from you as he did lying next to you tonight.
Lying next to you was honestly a bit of an overstatement. With the way you were laying, there was enough space between you to fit a whole other person on the bed. You were curled up on your side, so close to the edge, Tom was worried with one wrong move you’d just roll onto the floor. He considered reaching out, moving next you, but for the first time since you started dating he was truly scared of being rejected, of the pain he knew he'd feel if you pulled away from him.
He wanted nothing more than to touch you, kiss you, anything. He just wanted to feel close to you. Instead he quietly got up, careful not to wake you as he made his way out the room, the whole night replaying in his head.
Everything was off from the moment he walked through the door.
“Princess? I'm home!"
Flowers in hand, he walked through the apartment, looking for you. He heard a door open and a soft, “Tom?” come from the bathroom as he set his luggage down in your bedroom.
“I’m here, baby.”
You poked your head out of the doorway, hair wet and matted, a towel wrapped around your body, “Tom! Hi!”
He had expected you to run up to him and jump into his arms, like you always did before.
Instead, you casually walked over, kissing his cheek as if he hadn't been gone for months, "You didn't tell me you were coming home!"
He hadn't thought much about in the moment, but now, he could tell something was just wrong.
He knew something would be different, that was the price that came with being gone for months at a time. But not with you.
You'd always been a constant for Tom, giving him a wonderful sense of security he lacked in his hectic life. He knew no matter he could count on coming home to your warm and loving embrace.
Or at least he did.
The rest of the night had been just as weird as when he came in. You had your normal movie marathon like you did every time Tom came home, but this time around that feeling that you were out of reach was in the back of Tom's head.
You were too far, barely touching him, and you sure as hell didn't say a word to him. The normal joking around was gone, replaced with silence despite the sounds of the movie surrounding the both of you.
You had asked him questions every once in a while, about his flight, if he was tired or hungry. If he hadn't been paying too much attention, he would've thought it was just you being your normal, caring self, but it was too polite, like he was just someone visiting.
He couldn't stop dwelling on it no matter how hard he tried and that's how he found himself walking around the apartment, coming to realize it just as different as you were.
It was all little things and maybe if he didn't feel the need to look so closely, he probably never would've noticed, but he couldn't help it now.
There were flowers everywhere, fake ones in pretty vases all around because the real ones made you sad when they inevitably died. Tom could almost picture how excited you must've been setting up each vase and how long it probably took you to decide where to put them because you were such a perfectionist.
The blankets and pillows on the couch were different too, cute little sayings stitched into each one, and Tom wondered when you'd gotten then. You used to always tell him when you got new things. When was the last time you'd mentioned going to Hobby Lobby or Target?
What stuck out to Tom the most were the pictures you had. Some of the old pictures of the two of you were replaced with people he'd never seen before, he assumed co-workers, though he couldn't recall you telling him about anyone in the photos with you.
He felt a pang of guilt. How much had he missed?
He finally came across a familiar picture, one Harrison had taken of the two of you when you weren't looking the day you moved into this apartment together. You and Tom were smiling goofily at each other, pulling out things from a box on the floor.
Tom couldn't help smiling as he thought back to that day, to how happy you were.
"Tommy, baby, you have to be careful carrying that box. It has all our plates and I don't think you're gonna want to eat off a napkin." You warned him as you watched him carry the heavy box on his own, despite you and Haz both offering to help.
"I'll be careful, princess, I promise," he said confidently before somehow tripping over his own feet and hitting the wall, the plates clattering loudly
Tom looked back to see you rolling your eyes as if you knew he would do exactly that. He quickly put the box down on the floor, finding the box cutter on the kitchen counter and opening it up to make sure he hadn't broken anything.
He let out a sigh of relief before yelling out, "They're all okay!"
You shook your head at him, but Tom could see a smile on your face as you tried not to laugh.
You approached him, mumbling something about putting the plates away before Tom could break them.
Harrison was behind you, carrying a box without any complications, "It's not too late for me to take him back, y/n."
"I might just take you up on that, Haz."
"Hey!" Tom pouted, "You don't mean that do you, baby?"
You wrapped your arms around him, standing up on your tippy toes to plant a big kiss on his cheek, "Never, honey, I don't know what I'd do without you."
He put a hand on your waist, pressing a kiss to your lips before saying, "Good thing you're stuck with me then."
You were about to say something when you were rudely off by Haz throwing a napkin at you, "Oi, you two, come help me unpack your things please."
You pulled away from Tom, your laughter filling the room as you went to help. Tom watched, a warmth filling him as he thought about how lucky he was to be living this with you.
'What happened?’ He wondered with a sigh, the fond memories fading, leaving him with an achy feeling in his chest as he plopped down on the couch.
The sound of the bedroom door opening startled him, pulling him out of thoughts completely.
“Baby?” You shuffled over to him sleepily, eyes squinting at the bright light, “What are you doing up so late?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
You nodded, taking a seat beside him, laying your head on the soft cushion.
“What’s wrong, Tommy?”
Tommy. It was a nickname he had grown to love over the years.
“My Tommy,” you’d always say, usually right caressing his face fondly or pressing your lips to his.
He hadn’t realized just how much he missed hearing it or how long it’d been since the last time it came from your lips.
He didn't answer your question, looking down at his fingers. What was he supposed to say? "Hey, babe, I feel like our relationship is falling apart and I was wondering if you felt the same?"
No, he absolutely couldn't say that, but he couldn't just not say anything at all.
You gently touched his face, grabbing his drifting attention once more, "Baby, talk me. What's going on?"
He debated with his thoughts for a moment longer, before finally deciding to work up the courage to speak what was on his mind.
"I miss you."
You gave him a little smile, "I'm right here, silly."
"Are you?"
One question and Tom started to wonder if he should've kept his mouth shut, the hurt and confusion that immediately came over your face causing his heart to ache more than he thought was possible.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Y/n, you're sitting right in front me and I still feel like you're a million miles away."
You were speechless, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth.
"I, um, I don't know what you mean," you stammered out quickly, clearly lying.
Of course you knew what he meant, how could you not? A feeling of remorse flooded your body, you knew you'd been a bit distant, but you didn't know it'd been this bad or noticable.
It'd been so long since you really got to talk to Tom, both of you swamped with work and social lives, your paths barely crossed anymore. Before you knew it, your once amazing relationship, full of great communication, had been reduced to superficial and empty conversations.
"You don't? So nothing feels different between us right now?"
"I don't know what to say, Tom," you sat up, as if to get a better look at him, but you didn't meet his eyes, "Yes, something's different. Did you expect everything to be exactly the way you left it months ago?"
"No, I just," he ran his fingers through his hair, and you could tell he was choosing his words carefully, "I wish you cared more."
'Fuck,' it was like being punched in the gut. Tom meant the absolute world to you and for him to think you didn't care? It broke your heart.
"I care, Tom," you practically whispered, your voice full of sadness.
He didn't say a word, nodding instead, as if he wasn't convinced.
You sat in silence, for what felt like forever, just staring at everywhere but each other before Tom finally said something.
"Do you remember when you, Haz, Z, and I would get super drunk and stay up all night playing Mario Kart?"
You smiled, for a second you could almost imagine the four of you sitting on the couch, yelling and laughing, having the time of your lives, "As if I could ever forget, even drunk I could kick all of your asses.”
"That’s because you would always cheat!"
"I would not!"
Tom jokingly rolled his eyes, and for a moment the tension was gone. You were back to normal, all of your fears and worries ceased to exist. It was like you’d gone back to a time where things were simpler.
The illusion came crashing down the second you softly and very sadly said, "I miss those days."
Tom almost wanted to agree with you, to continue to remicine the past with you and go back to the feeling of ease the two of you had just seconds ago. Instead he asked, "What are we going to do?"
You didn't meet his eyes, "I don't know."
“I think I should stop working for a while, take some time off.”
For a moment, a part of you considered what that would mean. Tom would be home more often, you could actually see him, spend time with him. That was the same part of you that wanted to beg him to stay every time he had to leave. It was begging you to encourage him, telling you it’d be the perfect opportunity to rekindle your relationship.
Another part of you knew better though. It’d be selfish to ask Tom to flush all his hard work down the drain for you. You weren’t worth his career.
“No, absolutely not,” letting the latter side fuel you, “Babe, you can’t just stop working.”
“Why not?”
"You've worked so hard, I’m not going to let you throw that away for me."
'I'm not worth it,' is what your mind was practically yelling at him. You truly believed you weren't. You were just one person, how could you compare to the years of work and effort he'd put into his career?
"Do you love me?"
The question almost caught you off guard, of course you loved him, a lack of love for the man standing in front of you was definitely not the problem.
"More than anything."
"Then, please, angel, let me do this."
Tom had a look in eyes, one full of determination and you knew he had already made up his mind, but you couldn't help feeling like you had to convince him otherwise.
"Acting is your dream, Tom."
“No, you and I,” he motioned between the two of you, tears starting to well up in his eyes, “together. That’s my dream.”
"I don't want to lose you."
"Hey," you grabbed his face gently, using your thumbs to caress his face soothingly, wiping his tears away, "I'm not going anywhere."
"I'm not ready, baby, I'm not,” he choked on a sob, heavy tears falling freely down his face now.
You didn't say anything, you just wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight against your chest. You hoped your actions spoke the words you wanted to speak, but didn’t know how. You loved Tom more than anything and seeing him hurting, seeing your relationship fail first hand was killing you.
You started crying as the full extent of the situation finally hit you. Your relationship was failing. It was failing and you didn’t know what to do or how to fix it.
You felt like you couldn't breathe, like there was something heavy, crushing you. You were glad to have Tom there, his presence the only comfort you had at the moment.
You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that in each other’s arms, your sobs eventually turning to soft cries before stopping all together, finally letting you catch your breath.
Tom untangled himself from you, his puffy eyes meeting yours, "Can we go back to bed?"
"Of course, Tommy."
You wiped the remaining tears off his face, then the ones on your own, before grabbing his hand and gently leading him back to your room, back to your bed, back to where he belonged.
You climbed in right after him, immediately settling into your designated spot in his arms, your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. It was almost normal.
Silence engulfed you immediately, leaving only the sound of your soft breaths and the loud rain outside.
There was so much you wanted to say, but you were scared. Everything was falling apart right in front of your eyes and the thought of admitting it terrified you. Almost as much as the thought of losing Tom all together.
But you knew that if you didn’t speak up now, there might not be another opportunity to. There might not be a relationship left to save.
So, you worked up the courage to lace your fingers through his, holding onto him tightly because in some ways your life did depend on it and you whispered, "I'm not ready to wake up either."
Tagging: @fangirlwithasweettooth @bravest-at-heart @constellatinq @hoe-forharry @devildisguiseasangel @ravenclawmarvel @hollandsamor @cosmicholland @fairytaleparker @hollandsosterfield @now-imagine @officiallyunofficialperson @stealth-spiderr @xxxxdelenaxxxx @its-the-aerieljeane @petersstarcadet @babebenhardy @antoouu @lovinnholland @kxrtwxgner @sleepybesson @brookeelee98 @awkwardfangirl2014 @nedthegay @petersmparker @parkeroffline @snjms02 @the-queen-procrastinator @tomhollandsumbrella @spideyosterfield @thollandx @styles-balor4eva @80sthottie @marvelobsessedteenager @marshyrebelcloud @sixwyrxstuff @tomshufflepuff @jillanaholland @itscaminow @howdyherron @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @undiadeestos
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skellebonez · 3 years
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37 Fluff and 2 Angst for Lewvithur!
Very mild warning for drunkenness.
“You’re just a softie.”/“You started drinking again, didn’t you?”
Lewis shouted in surprise when there was a sudden man shaped weight against his back, thankful that even as a ghost his upper body was incredibly sturdy.  “Whoa, what the-?”
“You’re just a softie,” Arthur said out of nowhere as he snuggled into his icy cold back. He could feel the extra warmth from his cheeks through his ghostly clothes. “Biiiiiig old softie sweetheart. Like a purple... purple giant sheepy sheep man.”
“Uuuuuh...” Lewis looked as much back as he could, looking over at their girlfriend with his eyes pleading for any assistance he could get. He had no idea what the fuck was going on.
“You started drinking again, didn’t you?” Vivi said as she got up form her laptop, peeling the now obviously drunk man off their newly shared boyfriend. “I thought you said ‘never again’ after the time you tried to buy an actual giant mech from Japan...”
“But it’s in celeb’rtion!” Arthur slurred only a bit, able to remain standing with no assistance once Vivi steadied him. “I-I got. I got the thing! I got the- well I can’t tell you it’s a surprise, but I was so happy I jus’ kinda chugged all the wine in my mini fridge and now I’m only kinda drunk but!” He breathed in holding up his hands. “I’ve stopped, see, and now I just wanna show you how much I loooooove you!” He smiled goofily,  arms sticking up in the air as he started sliding down the wall to sit on the ground.
“Arthur gets really goofy when he’s drunk,” Vivi explained, going to get some water from the kitchen. “He’ll be fine but he’s going to be incredibly embarrassed when he is sober again.”
Well. Now Lewis was only more confused and more intrigued as to what kind of surprise could make Arthur happy drunk into this.
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