#it’s domestic and normal and they get old and happier | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

corrodedcoughin · 1 year

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Thinking about steddie future where they're both just average guys. No rockstars, no basketball players just two Normal men living a normal life because honestly? they deserve it. They deserve soft domesticity and happiness.

They both have jobs they like but don't love and they're happy with that. Eddie maybe becomes an electrician, working for someone else's company. His coworkers are chill, he gets to get out and work with his hands and that's more than he could have asked for. Steve is a physical therapist, or a manager in some business. He likes his team and the steady hours. He's not working for his dad which is a plus.

They buy a house together, that's not a mansion but it's not a trailer either. Steve does a lot of the dishes because Eddie hates it, hates the feeling of old food on the plates and cutlery. So Eddie will kiss Steve on the cheek and does the laundry because Steve fucking hates laundry. And sitting on the floor watching TV while he folds clothes is honestly sort of relaxing?? Love is doing the chores your partner hates.

Steve and Robin go out for brunch at least once a month, where they catch up and gossip for hours and hours and Steve comes home lighter with updates on Robin and Vickie. Eddie will have nightly phone calls with Wayne, where they talk and laugh and Eddie will eventually hand the phone over to Steve so he and Wayne can talk sports together. When he's in town Dustin will come over and stay in their spare room and they laugh and joke so much it's just like old times. They go over to Jeff's house for dinner on a semi regular basis, and it's nice having normal friends.

They adopt a very annoying cat who will climb all over them in bed and meow in their faces when they don't wake up to feed it breakfast in time. Steve will go for jogs on a Saturday morning, coming home to Eddie reading in bed. Some old western book Wayne recommended to him. There's a steaming cup of coffee waiting on their bedside tables that Eddie's prepared.

They take time off of work and go on a week long vacation because they can do that now. They do dorky touristy things and Eddie buys a mug to send to Wayne. Steve takes a lot of dorky photos of the two of them.

Idk they deserve to be normal and alive and happy with no upside down anymore <3

Oh I love this! I had actually been thinking about tradesman Eddie for a little bit I am so, so glad you’ve come up with this!

I can so completely see him learning a trade and just getting employed and put through his time by a small local employer! He has to go through his exams and that part of it worries him when he first gets the job but his team end up being really supportive and Steve stays up late with him, practicing circuits and wiring and quizzing him on currents and volts. Eddie returning the favour, letting Steve mark up his muscles and be a living anatomy dummy. Sure it gets a little sexy from time to time but more often than not it’s just them testing each other as Steve identifies bones and Eddie talks about parallel circuits.

The monthly brunches mentally and physically revive Steve after working extended hours with patients that he really does want the best for but a jobs a job and it can get pretty tiring. They joke that they rebalance each others chakras but they really do feel realigned after their meet ups. Eddie can see it to, sometimes he’ll come pick them up when it’s been a boozy brunch and delights in seeing them happy and light, clambering over each other to tell Eddie something about one of the waiters or an especially good dish they ordered. When he drops Robin home Steve sits in the front and looks at peace and Eddie feels the same way.

Their weekends are for them, sometimes that means staying home and cleaning the whole place between ordering food in and sometimes that means going on a day trip and taking Wayne around all the antique spots around the county and seeing what horrors they can uncover. Top spot currently sits with Wayne’s find of a doll whose limbs had been replaced with horse legs and had the head of a fish. Of course they bought it.

Every time they go on a holiday they make sure to send postcards to everyone, including themselves, seeing if they’ll get home before the postcard does. Steve keeps them in a photo album, each with a Polaroid of them next to it. Sometimes taken by a stranger, sometimes just a close up of their faces squashed together. It’s Eddie’s favourite thing to go through on their anniversary, or any day really, just loves being reminded that this is the life they get to have.

It’s mundane, dare say even normal, but they love it. Steve comes home every night, happy to put his scrubs in the washing machine next to Eddie’s uniform, happy to be where he feels loved.

#momo :((((( you never put a foot wrong and your words are Art #I honestly feel very lucky to receive them #cat dads is so painfully true. they buy it the best food they can afford and toys and cat nip and pander to its every need #and it just loves them so aggressively for it. they have one of those baby slings for it #I love them doing dorky tourist stuff!!! I want them messing with perspective to create funny photos like holding buildings #Steve being on the phone with Wayne for the entirety of the game so they can discuss it real time. sometimes it’s just silence and Eddie #will go to speak and both Steve and Wayne will stress shush him so he goes off to meet Jeff and the guys #sometimes the guys come over and they have a night of whatever movie has come out on tape #it’s domestic and normal and they get old and happier #they go to whatever gig eddie gets tickets for. they go on their first trip abroad. they host Christmas.#(only the once though. neither of them have recovered from that experience)#idk you are just so right they can just be normal guys in love and being happy #sorry this isn’t the best reply I’m very rusty. I just love your ideas #thank you so much I really mean it #momo #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #ask

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mykoreanlove · 1 year

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You're sick

The number you have dialed is not in service. Please call again later.

What the actual fuck? Jackson took another puff of his cigarette before reaching for his drink again. She blocked me? She fucking blocked me?! He took another sip of the brown liquor, not even feeling the burn in this throat anymore. The only thing he felt was anger. His eyes were glued to the screen, still unable to process what has happened. How could you block me? I’m Jackson Wang from China for fuck’s sake. He took another long sip sadly accepting the fact that even his fame couldn’t guarantee him a shot at love.

You’re sick. Those were your final words to him. He replayed you saying that hundreds of times. You had that painful look in your reddened eyes, tears straining your flushed cheeks, breath stuck in your throat as you let go of him. Jackson spit out the nastiest things as his ego was taking a blow right there. He watched you pack your stuff and leave his apartment, leaving him for good.

At least you didn’t cheat on him. He smirked devilishly thinking that this was some kind of progress since the girl before you fooled him for weeks on end. But if he was honest with himself it didn’t feel like progress at all. It felt like heartbreak, like suffering, like a never-ending loneliness that has crept into his bones. At this point in his life those feelings felt like a part of him. You were right, he thought to himself, I am sick.

Jackson poured himself another glass as he was remembering the first few weeks he shared with you. He liked the excitement of becoming yours - being glued to his phone eagerly anticipating your texts became normal, having someone to share the highs and lows of his days with felt so natural and you giving him all of your attention made him feel so important.

He adored the passion you elicited in him – staying up most nights to explore your body thrilled him, being the one fucking you brainless turned him on endlessly and cuddling you to sleep while stealing sweet kisses made him domestic.

He loved forming a true connection with you - opening up about his struggles was easy since you’ve always been so empathetic, holding you in his arms under the stars while planning the future seemed logical and falling in love was inevitable, especially for someone as love-addicted as Jackson.

This sweet feeling of love took over his whole being which made him noticeably happier. Jackson finally felt like he was appreciated for who he was as a man and not for being an artist. He didn’t even care that he had to slow down his career, so that he could spend more time with you. He didn’t care about music sales, brand deals or future career options – all he cared about was you.

Until he didn’t.

His mind got pestered with doubts, anxiety clouding his every thought. What if this was too good to be true? What if you left him in the end? What if relationships weren’t just his thing? Could he really neglect his career for you? After all, his career would never wake up and abandon him one day…

Jackson felt himself slipping into old patterns. This was no longer the confident man that you fell for but a coward that shied away from love and gave into fear. Unable to stop his inner demons, he gave into them, turning into a self-sabotaging monster once again. Better hurting you than getting hurt himself, right?

He gulped down the remains of the liquor and let out a desperate sigh. Why did I do this? Why am I so stupid? He ran his hand through his blonde hair, tugging on it as if self-harm would ease his self-inflected pain. He thought about the downfall of your relationship: Joyful calls turned into silence, sweet acts of love turned into egocentric ignorance and soulful connection turned into manipulation. This was no longer a blooming relationship; this was him having his way with you. He controlled you by giving you love if he needed it and tossed you aside if you came too close to him. Jackson often wondered how long you’d play this game with him, how much it took to break you. Turns out that fucking his dancer in front of you did the trick. Crying and arguing got replaced with your silence – this was you being done with him. This was him being left with his sickness – once again.

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bubblegumbarbie33 · 6 months

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I really want to write a Shameless AU where the day after 'Cascading Failures' Mandy wakes Mickey up and is like "Fuck this shit we're leaving" and she has a plan to move in with an Internet friend in Indiana but Mickey physically can't leave because Ian Ian Ian so Mandy takes him to the Gallagher house (where Fiona is freaking the fuck out about getting her kids back) and practically begs Fiona to take her brother in like she took Mandy in (not really because they were always fighting but also Fiona never kicked her out so.....)

Fiona's obviously like "Fuck this BS I've gotta get my kids back" and Mickey says that he'll help. Because he remembers what the system is like. Being alone. Fighting every second of every day. Being in a constant state of fight or flight. And he doesn't want that for Ian. Or any of the little Rugrats.

So he stays in the basement and keeps out of the house whenever social services stop by, and cleans and learns how to cook (pizza bagels and burnt eggs) and Fiona gets him a job (because he's not staying at her house with no money coming in, and Mickey doesn't want to work at the Kash and Grab with no Ian) and he works at the Alibi because his dad doesn't come around too often (he owes too many guys money or they owe him a boot to the face) but when Terry busts through the door Kev shoves Mickey under the bar like a little kid.

Mickey goes to the court hearing, because why wouldn't he? And Ian sees him walk in with Fiona and Mickey's looking at the ground and shuffling his feet because he knows that this is too much. That he's caring too much. But Ian doesn't say anything and just sits, glued to his side, until Fiona finally gets her kids back for good and everyone's jumping up and down and Mickey's just smiling but also a little sad because he's never known a family like this.

And then it's peaceful and domestic for a while, Mickey blends into the family. Makes friends with Kev and V. Becomes an dependable ego-check for Lip, a weird cousin/older brother for Carl and Debbie, a helping hand to Fiona, and a boyfriend to Ian. And it's some cheesy Brady Bunch shit but he lets himself love it because he's gone two decades without feeling safe.

Then, of course, Terry finds him. One of his cousins tips him off. He catches Mickey walking home from the Alibi one night, really lays into him. Mickey tries fighting back but finds himself paralyzed by that old, solid fear in the pit of his stomach. So he's just hit, again and again, in the street in front of the Gallagher house.

Until Fiona's on top of Terry with a bat, and Carl's got a blowtorch, and Lip's calling the cops because getting Terry sent to jail will make everyone's life easier, and Ian's kicking the shit out of him, and Debbie's holding a pillowcase full of bricks but she's more focused on making sure Mickey's cuts aren't deep enough to do lasting damage.

And that's enough to get Terry put away for a while. Tony makes sure of it, as due to some personal revelations he's definitely not a supporter of gay-bashing. And Mickey's lying on the couch, feeling like a sack of shit. A burden on the Gallaghers. He contemplates running down to Indiana, but Mandy has seemed happier based on her infrequent texts and social media posts, and he doesn't want to bother her. Because that's what he is. A bother.

But then Ian's sitting down next to him and turning on a movie. And slowly the rest of the family trickles in. And then it's just a normal night with leftovers and action flicks and Ian's arm wrapped around him. And Mickey falls asleep, knowing that when he wakes up the next day, it won't just be a dream.

#shameless #mickey milkovich #gallavich #ian gallagher #shameless us #shameless au #gallavich au #fanfic #au

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insideliascrazyhead · 7 months

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High & Low Couple Headcanons

Todoroki,Shibaman and Tsuji

-Overprotective as fuck

-patching up after fights comes with extra scolding about don´t get yourself hurt unspoken: don´t make me worry like that

-Todoroki trying to pretend not to be totally fond of Shibaman and Tsuji´s typical little behaviors that everyone has that would piss others off but not your loved ones cause they´re used to it

-Todoroki smiles.A lot more.

-He also loves it when Shibaman and Tsuji get a Ichigo Milk scolding

-When they´re not at Oya they´re usually at Shibaman´s since his sister isn´t home a lot

-They all met his sister though and Todoroki is her favorite

-and he loves it there,it´s a lot more home-y than his own

-domestic as fuck

-try to get into each others interests

-Todoroki going on a concert with them

-Shiba and Tsuji reading one of Todoroki´s books,failing miserably to understand that complicated shit and ask if there´s a movie for it instead

-especially during date night,where they switch up what they do

-shockingly stumbling across Murayama in the early morning on his way home form Cobra

Tsukasa and Fujio

-Fujio´s mom loves Tsukasa

-two domestic bitches

calling each other on face time speaking until fall asleep

-trying to be romantic then laugh about it

-god Tsukasa loves when Madoka scolds Fujio

-movie night dates

-dates in the amusement park

-clingy and adorable

-protective

-love language are probably gifts and quality time

-cuddles all the time

-inseperable

-bickering like old married couples

-soo many nicknames from Fujio

-patching up each others injuries after every fight

-probably adopted Jamuo as their child

-cooking dates until Fujio cut or burns something and get´s banned from the kitchen so he sits on the counter as emotional support and even tried cheering Tsukasa on once,who just shoved some food into Fujio´s mouth

Yasushi and Shidaken

-they´re normally at Shidaken´s since he lives alone

-horror movie nights even tho Shidaken´s doesn´t necessarily like them and nearly vomits sometimes

-gross food and candy combinations,also dare each other to eat it

-sneaking around thinking they´re good at keeping it a secret

-teasing like crazy

-any romantic couple things,yeah matching brain damadge

-lovingly insult each other

-kicking each others ass on occasion

-Shidaken loves when Yasushi goes crazy on some random thugs

-Shidaken bickering constantly with Kiyoshi

-always eat takeout,they tried to cook once.The pan caught fire and they started fighting and screaming,not knowing what the fuck to do.If odajima wouldn´t have come by that day,the flat would´ve burned down.Dumbasses still fighting while being open flame grilled

-Yasushi probably drowns in Shidakens clothes so he hits him with the sweater paws,always when he least expects it.

-The most agressive mother henning ever

-he met Shidaken´s mother,she thinks Yasushi´s a total sweetheart -You can behave?Yeah you can go eat me.Maybe later.Yasushi violently choking on nothing.

-Probably say fuck you instead of I love you

-You hate this guy.Nah we hate this guy.That kinda loyality.Now it´s on sight for the two.

-When Yasushi fell in love he thought the fluttering in his stomach is the flu.

Cobra and Murayama

-Murayama shamelessly flirting with Cobra and freezing like a deer in the headlights when Cobra flirts back

-road trips with the motorcycles together

-will probably get married on a roadtrip down the route 66

-would be the cool childless tequila uncles

-shovel talk by Yamato and Noboru get´s interrupted by Naomi who scares the shit out of Murayama

-Seki and Furuya try to intimidate Cobra too

-Kohaku nearly pisses himself laughing meeting Murayama cause of course Cobra falls in love with a guy thats so much like his old self

-Cobra get´s nicknames by Dan:cougar,sugar daddy etc.

-sexual jokes in revenge telling Dan that he´s still single

-mother henning Cobra into eating more,taking care of himself

-Murayama would mature a lot and Cobra would be happier

-wanna hear stories from Mugen and early Sannoh Rengokai

-first time he hears Cobra laugh he probably drops whatever he´s holding

-domestic routine quickly but when Murayama learns about Mugen Cobra he tries to bring him back out.

-Crazy date ideas by Murayama and Cobras weirdly always down

-Murayama tried to out eat Yamato once and nearly died

-also Dan and Tetsu are so happy to get a better chance with woman but still fail

Todoroki and Odajima

-comfortable silence

-fishing dates

-private and reserved in public

-cute couple selfies

-Odajima tries reading books Todoroki is interested in,sleeps in

-ass kicking as date

-they´re actually the best at sneaking around

-Yes,Todoroki sometimes carries a exhausted Odajima like Jinkawa does

-Odajima is cuddly and clingy

Yasu-Kiyo

-screaming instead of talking even tho they´re not fighting

-they all think they´re fighting and threatening each other.No that´s flirting

-crazy overprotectivness

-total ride or die

-violence as love language

-so many hickeys

-make out sessions after fighting other gangs

-think they´re sneaky.they´re not

-inseperable as usually

-move in with each other without noticing

-Jealous as fuck if you come up towards their boyfriend so help you god.Run.

-Possessive like crazy

-“at least this way no one stabs Kiyoshi anymore!“

„Nah.Did you even met this guy?“ „Stabbing each other is probably their foreplay.“

#high and low #high and low the worst #oya high #high and low cobra #sannoh rengokai #todoroki yosuke #hanaoka fujio #tsukasa takajo #murayama yoshiki #sannoh hoodlum squad #housen academy #odajima yuken #shida kenzo #nishikawa yasushi #kiyoshi #shibaman #tsuji

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messrmoonyy · 1 year

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please please Tess being alive and living in Jackson with reader and Joel and Ellie and Tommy and Maria and everything is happy and nice and no one dies

When the snow gives way to spring

Tess servopoulos x fem!reader

A/N- I will say straight up this is a little shorter than my normal weekly uploads because I’m sick rn and just not been in the mood to sit down and write. But. Enjoy all the same. I did remove her backstory because she reminisces a little bit in this and I needed her to be single pre outbreak .

Warnings- absolutely none. It’s tooth rotting domestic fluff

Word count- 1.9k

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

The world was currently in that odd part of the year where winter was ending and spring was on its way, where some days she didn’t need a jacket but others she had to layer up. The snow was starting to disappear, patches of green grass sprouting up in spots that it had melted, flowers were reappearing in the window boxes and the sky was looking more blue than grey.

Tuesday had blessed the world with one of the warmer days, when Tess could walk home with her jacket slung over her arm because the sun was warming her skin just enough. She’d just dropped her horse back to the stables, after being called upon by Joel in the early hours. Tommy had the flu and even though it was meant to be her day off, Joel had asked her to cover the ski lodge route with him.

So she’d reluctantly sacrificed her morning wrapped up in bed with you, scribbled out a quick note and left. At least it was one of the nicer routes. Though honestly all the routes weren’t that bad. There was never more than a few stragglers around. And the horseback rides through the woods were actually quite therapeutic.

People smiled and waved at her as she made her way home, they’d accepted her, Joel, Ellie and you into their town with ease. And you were all solid parts of the community now. It did throw her off balance sometimes though, at how stark the contrast was in Jackson to Boston.

In Boston she had power. Control. People moved out of her way when she walked by and knew that she was not to be fucked with. But in Jackson everyone had equal levels of power, she didn’t need to exude a scary confidence that made people fear her. People liked her. They didn’t turn the opposite way when they saw her coming, they’d walk up to her and start conversation.

It had taken some getting used to. But now she’d have it no other way. She’d never felt more like her pre outbreak self, never felt at such… peace.

The added levels of safety were a bonus too of course. She no longer had to worry about keeping you alive. You could handle yourself of course, but she’d always panic. She’d always feel obligated to take care of you, because you were hers. And she was yours. But now she didn’t have the ever looming fear of you getting snatched up by FEDRA officers coming back from a run. Or some wannabe drug Lord trying to prove a point by hurting you to get to her.

She could walk around town and hold your hand. Could dance with you when Maria held her little get together in the Tipsy Bison at the weekends. She didn’t have to hide away her affections anymore in fear someone would see her, see you, use you as a target.

She’d could happily leave home for the day and know you’d be perfectly safe. And vice Versa. It was nice not to be so stressed all of the time. You were happier. She was happier. No worries of if you’d die tomorrow, Instead she could actually picture you both growing old together now. It was nice to think about.

You had joked in the past that you two would end up like Bill and Frank. Grumpy. Old. Hating the world together. Not that she’d ever deeply believed it could happen. She’d never really believed that she would last to reach old age. But now she could see it.

She was starting to feel it too. Though you enjoyed telling her she wasn’t old at all.

She liked having a house to go back to. A home. The apartment she had shared with you back in Boston had never really felt like home. Too decrepit and too many rules. Rations of food and water. Constant bright lights shining though the windows at night from the wall. Gunfire and explosions the chosen ambience.

But now she woke up to the sun. Or the sound of horses or birds. She had an entire house with you. One that you had both made a home. You were everywhere in it and she loved it. The framed pictures of you both, of you with Ellie, of the four of you all together. The slightly wonky knitted blanket that you had secretly been working on with one of the women in town that you’d gifted her for Christmas. The flowers you liked to keep around the house when they were in season. The fairy lights. The boots that weren’t falling apart, that were sat by the door.

As she walked up the porch steps a smile pulled at her lips seeing the daffodils in the pots by the front door were blooming. She’d never really been one for flowers but you’d wanted to plant them. And she couldn’t deny you of anything. And they were nice to look at. As she walked through the front door she could hear music coming from the kitchen, you humming along to it happily, and it made her smile grow more.

She hung her coat on the rack by the door and kicked off her boots, quietly making her way through to the kitchen. You were washing dishes, hips swaying along to the song playing and she watched you for a moment. She leant against the door frame and was almost overcome with emotion.

If someone had told her back when she’d first met you all those years ago, that she would still be alive. That she would still be with you. That you would both be safe. She’d have thought they were off their head on pills. And yet there she was. There you were.

She wasn’t young anymore, yet in those quiet moments like that she could pretend she was. She could remember what it felt like to fall in love with you when she was young, could smile to herself and wish she could go back and talk to herself. Tell her not to worry. Tell her that fighting her feelings for you was a pointless thing, because the future would be exactly that moment. Together. Safe. Happy.

Watching you there she felt like she was back home. Pre outbreak. No infected roaming the planet, no real threats other than if her boss at work was going to be in a good mood or not. Or if you were going to have burnt your attempt at dinner again. She wondered if you’d have liked Detroit.

She’d had a nice apartment. A decent job. You wouldn’t have even really needed to work if you hadn’t wanted to. Though she knew you would’ve, you were no housewife.

The wife part did sound nice though…

She walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“ hey you “ you turned your head to look at her, capturing her lips in another kiss before turning back to the dishes.

“ I thought we weren’t working today “

“ hm. Tell that to Joel “ you laughed a little, shaking your head and placing a mug onto the drying rack. Tess rested her chin on your shoulder and gave a small sigh, relishing in the pure domestic warmth the moment held.

She didn’t know what had gotten into her really. Why she was so overcome with emotion. She was just so suddenly aware of how lucky she truly was. How much she loved you. Loved your home. Loved her life now. Which was strange when she really thought about it. The world was a mess and people died every single day. Yet she was safe and content. And so were you. And that’s all that really mattered.

“ was everything okay? “ you asked, drying off your hands and then turning around in her embrace.

“ all clear “ she confirmed “ Joel was telling me today he was planning to go scope out that museum Maria told him about. Wanted to know if we’d go with him. Make sure it’s all clear, find a safe entry point “ Joel had been planning something big for Ellie’s birthday. Some way to make the kid have at least one day of pure and simple happiness.

She was much better now. She didn’t have so many quiet days. But still.

“ she’s gonna lose her shit when she finds out about it “

“ Maria said there’s a whole hall about space. So yeah. She’s gonna lose her shit “ she could already picture the joy on her face. She definitely wanted to be there for that. And she wanted you there too. And she knew Ellie would.

Ellie loved you. Maybe even as much as she loved Joel. You were the first one to trust her after all. The one to convince both Tess and Joel that taking her was a good idea.

“ is he going today? “

“ was planning to set off early tomorrow morning “ you nodded and your smile grew as you clearly thought about something “ what? “

“ why don’t we tell Joel me and you will just scope it out? That could be nice. Like a little get away “

“ yeah nothing says romantic getaway like camping out at an old museum “ you rolled your eyes and wriggled from her grasp but she grabbed you back around your waist and pulled you back “ hey don’t get grumpy I was joking “ she said with a laugh, nuzzling her face against your neck. It actually could be nice. Some time alone without Joel waking her up or Ellie charging in because she found a feral cat and wanted to adopt it.

Not that she’d change any of that for the world.

“ so you’ll ask Joel? “

“ I’ll ask Joel “ you turned around in her arms again and beamed a smile at her. You always got your way and you were always just as smug about it. Not that she really cared anymore. She’d do anything and everything if it meant you’d be happy.

“ it’ll be nice. You were joking that it wouldn’t be romantic but I’m gonna romance your fuckin pants off. You watch “

“ oh you are? “ she asked with amusement in her tone, watching you cook up the ideas your head

“ yup. We’ll be like the modern day Romeo and Juliet. Or. Juliet and Juliet? “

“ don’t they both die? “ she asked with a quirked eyebrow

“ I’m trying to be romantic now and you’re ruining it “ she couldn’t help but laugh at you. Not because she was making fun of you. Because you were.. sweet. You pressed a quick kiss to her lips before escaping her arms again, pulling open a kitchen drawer “ trust me I have this all planned already. You’re gonna come back from this trip and you’ll be ruined for anyone else “

“ as if I’m not already “

“ I’m serious! “ you called, disappearing into the hall and returning a moment later with a notepad and pen “ I’ll make a list of things we’re gonna need. It’s like what a couple days for a trip there, look around, then back? Will you get Maria to let us out with our horses tomorrow? Oh! No. Just your horse. That’s step one. That’s romantic “ she watched you in amusement as you scribbled things down

“ sharing a horse. Romantic. Got it “ you looked up at her and raised an eyebrow

“ why are you still here? Joel. Maria. Off you go. Go go! “ she shook her head but did as she was told, first walking over to you and pressing a kiss to your head and then your cheek.

“ yes ma’am “ she joked before heading for the door.

“ I love you! “

“ love you too, you sap “

#tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou #anna torv #the last of us fic #lesbian #lgbt #x you #fluff #Joel miller #ellie williams

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googoobabajogwick · 1 year

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A John Thanksgiving.

Words: 3176

John Wick x sibling! reader

Summary: Helen really wants John to invite some family over for Thanksgiving dinner with her family. Hard part is John doesn’t have any family, but he does have you and that’s the closest thing he’s got.

Warnings: weed smoking lol

John and Helen had been married for two years now. He had never been happier. Everything felt so perfect, so normal, so domestic. His wife knew little about his life before her but she still knew he was an ex assassin. It had taken a while for him to tell her but how could he not when they were planning their wedding.

Helen took it much better than expected, though she was mad he waited six months before the wedding. Her family, they were very judgemental. No matter how hard he tried John didn’t feel like he could be good enough in their eyes. He didn’t really care but family was important for her so he tried.

Thanksgiving was coming up and this year the two of them decided to host again. Last year, her family had made remarks on the lack of family on John’s side but he shut them down by saying they were busy. That was a lie. He didn’t have any family, not any he’d like them to meet at least. Yet Helen had asked once more,

“Are you sure? No friends or family you’d want to invite over?” She was careful with her words, John was a solitary man but he thought for her.

“I suppose there may be two people I could invite..” he scratched at his beard.

The way her eyes lit up made his heart soar. There was no way he could get out of this one.

That led him to where he was now. Old ass notebook with numbers important to him in it laid on his worktable. He hadn’t needed it since he retired but some people were in it he thought he’d ask. Those two people were you and Marcus. His two ‘best friends’ as Helen had put it after he explained your relationship.

Marcus was John’s first choice as he had met Helen at their wedding. He’d said yes the minute the words left the ex assassins mouth. A thanksgiving dinner at the wicks house? Now that was just too hard to pass up. The sniper asked his friend if he planned to invite anyone else and when he tossed the idea of inviting you, Marcus busted out with laughter.

“That’s a great idea!”

So here he was, dialing your number on his old rotary phone. It rang and rang to the point he thought you weren’t going to answer. He did feel a bit disappointed, it would be nice to see you and Helen would love to meet you again. Right as he was going to hang up when he heard you answer.

“Oh my God am I dreaming? Fuck you asshole! It’s been so long you haven’t called in months!” You shouted over the phone though he knew you were playing.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been busy.” He grimaced over the phone, “I, uh, Helen wanted me to ask if you’d like to come to our thanksgiving dinner this year.”

John could hear you as you shuffled around on the phone and then the sound of papers being flipped. He rolled his eyes. You weren’t doing anything, he knew it. His foot tapped as you made him more and more impatient. He knew if you could see him you’d have a shit eating grin on your face.

“Hmmmmmmm.” You exaggerated,” I guess I could come. A little upset that it’s Helen who wants me to come and not even my own big brother though.”

The two of you weren’t brother and sister. He was starting to regret asking you. You were ten years younger than him, a baby found outside in the alleyway. People always made jokes that you two were like siblings and it was true. You teased him like crazy and he kept you out of trouble. When you were ten and he was twenty you’d bug him like an annoying little sister.

John’s punishments when he’d mess up or do something that pissed off The Director, were to help the younger kids learn to fight and shoot guns. You of course were a part of that group and although you annoyed the shit out of him, he was always softer with you. Even when you were fifteen and bit his leg.

“Please be normal. Her family doesn’t know, they are a bit-“ Pretentious, egotistical, snobby, stupid fucking assholes, “Judgy?” He was trying to be nice.

“HA! Me? Not normal, yeah right. See you on turkey day Johnny!”

You hung up and John stood there for a moment. This was a big mistake. Any other day he wouldn’t care. If it was a normal dinner that would be fine but he was really starting to think of the consequences of inviting you to a holiday dinner with Helen’s family. He took a deep breath.

Shit.

Helen, of course, was ecstatic to hear you were coming. You’d met her once and it was at their wedding. She thought you were hilarious and fun but her favorite part was when you’d share stupid stories about her husband. It was nice to hear about his youth as he was very private, only sharing what he thought was necessary.

She herself wished her family wasn’t so rude but she had hope that they would soften up someday. The long haired woman was hard at work in the kitchen with John as her helper. He was a very sweet husband who demanded she let him help. If she asked he would do it all himself. He kissed her cheek as he moved to get the turkey out of the oven.

Marcus was the first one to show up and was leaning against the kitchen island with a glass of wine in his hand. People were starting to arrive. John was thankful his mentor was good with people, already charming multiple of Helen’s female relatives. Everyone was intrigued by him, their in-laws' mysterious friend..

Then he heard it. John and Marcus locked eyes with each other. His friend smirked as your booming bass approached his home. Helen looked up wondering what that noise was but based on her husband’s face she knew exactly who it was. He should have invited Jimmy.

Before he knew it you were letting yourself in. Dressed in a sports jersey, sweatpants and a huge oversized zip up hoodie you called out for him.

“Hello! Jonathan, I'm here the party can officially start!” You belted out while shutting the door behind you.

When you turned to greet him you saw everyone staring at you. They were dressed in suits and dresses. Your mouth was agape. You were always super expressive and sometimes it got you in trouble. About to ask if you were in the wrong house John and Helen ran to greet you.

She was shocked as you grabbed her shoulders and left two big kisses on both cheeks. Then you hugged John hello while also scolding him for not telling you there was a specific attire, not that you cared. They introduced you to everyone before you found Marcus. He looked dashing as ever and you told him so.

Things were going very well so far. Helen’s family questioned you about your profession, finding it very odd when you told them you were a doctor. They believed a doctor would hold themselves to higher standards but you just laughed it off because you were the best of the best.

You didn’t get to see much of John as he was busy following his wife around, hosting the holiday. Your elbow hit Marcus’s arm. He looked at you and chuckled knowing exactly what you were hinting at. Your old friend looked so uncomfortable, not that anyone but you and the man next to you could tell. He leaned down so you could hear him.

“Like a lost puppy, look at him..” He shook his head and smirked.

“I want to say it’s sickening but, I actually find it pretty endearing. She’s a very nice woman.” You watched them.

“That she is, sweet too.” He agreed.

The two of you continued to catch up until the socializing became too much. You excused yourself and went out back to smoke. There would be no way you’d get through this without it. Although you hadn’t ever been to their house you made yourself at home. The cool breeze was welcoming compared to the stuffiness inside. You pulled the pre rolled joint out of your pocket and right as you were about to light it you heard someone clear their throat.

It was Helen. You felt a bit bad because you did pull out drugs on her property but she surprised you by sitting down across from you. She seemed a bit stressed but still smiled at you. You almost had the wind knocked out of you when she asked if you would share. In a way you felt guilty like you were a bad influence on the good kid but she was older than you and you were always told to respect your elders.

You lit the joint, taking the first hit and then handed it to her. She took a small hit and started coughing. You handed her your water and she took a sip before laughing. Your hand brought the joint up to your lip to take another inhale. This was top of the line shit, you hoped she would know that. The warm fuzzy feeling started to settle in your mind and you couldn’t help but laugh with her.

“God, I haven’t smoked in years!” She sounded excited.

The two of you spent the next few minutes in silence just passing the rolled joint back and forth. Half way through it though you started talking. Like weed tended to do, you talked about life and all that jazz until the topic of John came up. She told you she was so happy you came and that she knows he’s happy as well.

You were surprised he hadn’t followed her out here. Helen explained to you that as much as she loved her family she hated that they were so rude about her husband to him himself and her. Next year they wouldn’t host, she had enough of all the tension and how everyone getting along was all fake. You agreed with her and finished the joint.

“Tell me something about him that no one else knows.” She giggled behind her hand.

Helen felt like a teenage girl gossiping about her crush but she had to ask. You brought your finger up to rub at your chin as you thought. What’s something you could say that would shock her or embarrass John. You thought long and hard before the lightbulb went off in your head.

“John can dance. Specifically ballet.”

“No way.”

“Yeah way, he had to wear a tutu!”

“No I didn’t.” You jumped at the sound of his voice.

Damn how quiet he could be.

“I invite you to my house and you get my wife high?” John questions.

“You want some? I have another.” You went to pull it out but he put his hand out to let you know he was okay.

“Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy John.” She chastised him and you almost spit your drink out.

“Yeah John.”

“I came out here to tell you the food is almost ready, not to be ganged up on.”

The two of you laughed before Helen got up to go back inside saying she should probably go inside. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and disappeared into the house. You giggled while lighting up the second joint and he continued to stare at her.

“Did she just call you a fuddy-duddy?”

“Yes. Why what would you have said? Actually-“

“Lame, loser, boring…”

“-I don’t want to hear it.” You snickered and kept hitting the joint.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments before he let out a sigh. John needed the fresh air, though it might not be so fresh with you here smoking but it was better than in the house. He thanked you for coming and you reminded him that you were always only a phone call away, to which he responded that he knew.

It was nice seeing you, John thought to himself. For how annoying and crazy you could be, he’s glad he did it, and that Helen had pushed him too. He forgot how well you two got along even if he’d only seen you interact once. Meanwhile you were smacked. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that second one. You seemed to overdo it a lot.

Something about the way John was looking at you made you start giggling. When he gave you a confused look you just laughed harder. You were almost laying on the chair as you cackled. It was definitely the weed but you couldn’t breathe from how hard you were laughing. You flicked the roach at him but he dodged it.

“What are you laughing at?” His deadpanned voice made you laugh even harder, which seemed impossible.

“You. Man you’re making me laugh, go back inside! Your lover awaits you!”

John realized he wasn’t going to get anything of substance out of the conversation and got up to leave but not without a small chuckle. You were always so weird but you were still right. He knew Helen was waiting for him and that food was ready by now. You were still laughing as your friend told you to come in for food.

“Give me a minute!” You shooed him away.

The air in the house felt almost hot as it greeted you when you came inside. Everyone was sitting at the table staring at you as you made your way to your seat next to Marcus. You looked at them with a raised eyebrow. Jeez, Helen wasn’t joking. Her family did seem judgemental.

“And where were you?” One of the family members asked.

“I went for a walk.” Is all you said even if you wanted to jump over the table and strangle them.

“Smells like it…” Marcus snorted into his glass.

You gave him a light smack and started to fill your plate. The talk of people filled the table but all you could focus on was how good the food was. God damn, Helen was an amazing cook, you don’t think you’ve ever eaten something so good. You thought about how to everyone else you looked more like a hungry dog

devouring your food but you didn’t care.

When you looked up you were correct. Everyone was staring at you. Some in disgust, some in awe and some in confusion. If you looked closer you’d probably see John’s temple twitch at your actions. With slow movements you kept your eye on everyone while still shoving food into your mouth. Helen hid her smile behind her hand.

“What?” You asked with a mouth full of food.

“You say you’re a doctor?” One of the men asked.

You took a big sip of your wine, your mouth was starting to feel dry.

“Yup. One of the best, actually.” Pride, that’s what you felt.

“That’s hard to believe…”

You don’t know who said it but John noticed the way you gripped your knife in your hand. This needed to end now or you’d end it in ways he didn’t want to think about at a nice Thanksgiving dinner with his wife. You stared at the man, almost snarling at him.

“Well, believe what you want but I’ll let you know that I’ve been watching you all night. The way you move your arm I can tell your shoulder hurts you. Is it a torn rotator cuff? I’m willing to bet money on it. Also that your doctor sucks.” Your grip on the knife tightened at the idea of a good time.

“Why you little-“

“Okay! Okay! Let’s just eat. The food is great, let's just focus on the food.” John’s worried voice filled your ears.

The statement was directed more at you, not Helen’s family member. With a slight grumble you let go of the chokehold on your knife and began eating again. Just like that, the whole conversation never happened as you went back into your dream of amazing, sweet and savory food.

The night had ended and almost everyone had left. Marcus left right after dinner saying he had something to attend to. It was just you, John and Helen, and also her parents. You were laying on their couch before you realized that you should get going as well. Your bed was calling your name.

As you were getting ready her mother and father walked up to you. You were putting your coat on. Your face did not hide your confusion as to why they were approaching you. Was it because you threatened their nephew at dinner? Not your fault the man had to challenge your skills.

“So, you and John? You’re siblings?” The mom asked.

“Yes, he’s my big brother. He was in charge of me when we were younger.” You smiled.

“In charge?” The father trailed off.

John could feel your schemes in his bones and found you just in time to hear the conversation.

“No blood relation. She’s adopted.” Leave it to John to ruin everything.

“Um you were too! We had a very big family! That was poor.” John just whacked you upside the head when they looked away.

You rubbed the sore spot while grumbling. Asshole.

The parents looked at John and smiled at him and he had to take a second to believe he wasn’t seeing things. Helen’s parents always kept a distance and never, ever smiled at him. Not even at their wedding. It almost scared him.

“We had no idea you were a self made millionaire Jonathan. All while taking care of a sibling. Good job.” Her father put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

John just stood there with his mouth agape. Helen’s parents liked to pretend that he didn’t even exist and now they were smiling and praising him. After a few seconds he shut his mouth and nodded his head. Her parents went to talk to say their goodbyes and left you and him alone.

“Ah Jonathan you have to learn how to work those people. Rich folks, they love any story that fits their narrative. Poor orphan self made millionaire? How inspiring.” You mocked.

John let out a deep chuckle. You were always good at getting people to like you, even if you were annoying and crass. It made sense, you were very smart. You yawned and gave him a hug before he pulled away to open the door for you. You’d already said goodbye to Helen but you called out one more farewell and stepped outside.

“I better be coming back next year.” You laughed when John shut the door in your face.

Helen came up to him and wrapped her arms around him.

“She’s definitely coming back next year.”

He smiled.

“Yeah. She is.”

#john wick #john wick x reader #John wick fanfic #Helen Wick x John Wick

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 8 months

Note

Domestic headcanons with the circus crew please? Your wedding headcanons made me curious about what comes next…

of course!!

the original was in 'reaction' format as the troupe is too many characters for my limit on headcanons, so I stuck with that format here!

anyway......... MY BABIES!!!!!

this is assuming reader already has a house and all their chosen circus babe has to do is move on in :)

Wot, y’ think she’s gonna be some perfect, li’l, delicate flower of a wife, stayin’ at home, mendin’ y’r clothes? As if… ugh. She craves domesticity more than she wants to admit to craving it, but she also doesn’t really know how to settle. Most of her life has been spent going, going, going, and she struggles to do anything resembling relaxing. Of course, not that any kind of housework is relaxing. It’s just so different to have you there trying to provide for her, something which means she doesn’t need to fight to survive anymore. She has time to be idle. She doesn’t know what to do with it, other than to do what the circus needs, then come home and… kiss you as soon as you walk in the door. She’s almost bored without you, after she’s done with her own work! One thing she loves is to lie in bed with you at night, head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. For once, for once in her Goddamn life, she feels at peace.

Alright, well, he’s got the spouse of ‘is dreams, so… now wot? ‘Ow does bein’ married actually work?? He’d honestly assume it was a lot like his life before, just with the difference that he comes home to you instead of going to a lonely tent when it’s time to sleep. Maybe that’s what it’s like in the beginning, until he understands that he doesn’t have to work so hard anymore. As much as he’s dedicated to his family, they all urge him to go the hell home for a bit since he’s someone’s husband now. He still does his shows, just perhaps not every single night. It’s… nice. To have a little rest. To know that things are going to be taken care of instead of wondering. To know that when you get home, you’ll kiss him, and hug him, and the two of you don’t have to worry if you have enough to eat or if it’s warm enough to sleep. He feels so secure, and that’s what allows his self-confidence to blossom. He even discovers some new hobbies!

Would y’ look at this, they’re someone’s wife! God, there ain’t no way they could ever be ‘appier. This is what they’ve always wanted, since they were old enough to know they wanted it. The idea of having a home to go, one physical place which doesn’t change location every couple of months, it’s a feeling of stability they didn’t even know they needed. It’s something that excites them, getting to be married to you and do all the things that married people do. Of course, they blush a bit and try to curb their excitement after your reaction to them asking, “When do y’ think y’ll be ready f’r a baby??” Haha, oops. Well, they still like being married. They feel so normal and more in love with you than ever. They stretch out in bed while they wait for you to get home, they rummage in the pantry every so often… they tackle you with a hug when you get back! Oh, and they also assume the other members of the troupe are welcome, so you might be having sleepovers. It’s not so bad; they’ve never been happier, and they make sure to tell you so at least once a day.

Heh, goodness… it all seems like so much fuss, aye? Gettin’ tae be off the circus grounds f’r a bit? He’d be just as happy to set you up in a new tent and call it your house… and he might play a joke wherein he makes you think he’s doing just that. However, he’s also grateful that you want to share a home with him, somewhere that’s yours. He loves his family, but even he has to admit that sometimes a little peace is nice. A few hours where he doesn’t have to play ringleader or have his strings pulled by the Baron or pretend he’s anything more or less than what he is; a simple man who feels, often and deeply. To be allowed free reign of the house while you’re gone is a maddening amount of leash for someone who’s been on such a short one. He ends up not doing much, maybe trying to read… if you happen to have a piano in the house, he attempts to play. You probably come home to find him hitting sour notes and laughing at himself, but he seems quite happy to be doing so. He always greets you with a kiss, even if he has to go back to the circus for a bit. Also, pet names galore, even more than when you were just dating. Much as he would prefer to pretend otherwise, married life suits him.

So, well… ‘ow’s a big man like ‘im s’posed to have any kinda domestic life? ‘S almos’ a guarantee ev’rythin’ y’ got’s too small f’r ‘im. Of course, he likes the idea. It’s not something he talks about much, but it’s definitely something he thinks about quite a bit. Like most of the troupe, he craves to be normal, and part of that means married life. He may be in for a pleasant surprise if he finds that you’ve got more things than expected which are able to accommodate him; a bigger bed, rooms where he doesn’t have to crouch so as not to hit his head on the ceiling, things that a lot of people don’t even really consider. Though, he’s restless without much to do. He can read a little bit, so if you have any books, he thumbs through them. He absolutely ends up going back to the fairgrounds for a while — only for his family to chase him out with teasing, “Oi, get back ‘ome f’r a bit, we’re fine!” His favorite is when he gets to curl up in bed with you, snuggling, feeling like he’s… just a person sleeping next to their spouse. It’s the best rest he’s gotten in his whole life, and he can’t believe he’s going to get to do this every night.

Fuck, y’ think ‘e wants somethin’ like that? All soft ‘n’ shite? God, y’ better not expect ‘im t’ dress up ‘r go t’ parties ‘r anythin’. He’s not really sure what this kind of life entails. He knows what a marriage is supposed to be, but, surely you can’t want anything like that with him, can you? It’s not the kind of thing he’s really good at. Not only is he worried that he’ll be a bad husband, he also drives himself insane with boredom whilst you’re not home. He tries to relax, and it goes about as well as you’d expect. As long as there’s no pressing business at the circus, he might bring Wendy over to poke around the house. The more he looks around, the more he finds that things are… actually sort of set up for him. There are little hidden tricks that make it easier for him to reach things or what have you. It’s a reminder that this isn’t just your home anymore, it’s his home as well. He eventually settles into it, as much as he can. It’s… not so bad, really. Maybe he’s alright at this whole being married thing, after all.

(What are we meant to do in this house all day? Lay around by the fire and get fat?) Well, everyone could use a bit more rest, Goethe. If you want to take care of him and all his friends, why shouldn’t they all accept your kindness? You… love him, for whatever reason, and you love his pets. He’s always incredibly shy about letting you give him things, even when those things are simply a safe place to live, food, and a sense of security. He’s thankful! He’s just — it’s — he finds it so hard to believe that he’s married to someone now, that he has a house to live. He doesn’t want to completely abandon the circus, they’re his family. But… how wonderful, for another person to want him. For you to desire his company all the time, so much so that he gets to have a permanent home. Quite honestly, he does absolutely nothing all day. He goes to the circus for an hour or so after you first head out, then he comes back and curls up by the fire. If you have a library, he brings books down to read. It’s all like the best dream he’s ever had… especially once you come home. Your embrace is warmer than any fire, and he can easily fall asleep to your voice reading to him.

This is… good God, ain’t this way too much f’r someone like ‘er? Wot’s she s’posed t’ do t’ make a ‘ouse a ‘ome, anyway? She’s so confused by it all, even though she’s excited to be a wife. It’s just that she doesn’t really know how to be one. You’ll hopefully encourage her with the reminder that, literally, all she needs to do to ‘be a wife’ is to be married to you. Still, she’s taken her turns at cooking and mending clothes in the circus like everyone has, so she tries a little of that when you’re not home. She’s probably best at sewing, although she does invite her brother over often and he distracts her. Not to mention, she misses her family a lot, so she goes to the fairgrounds while waiting for you to get back. One of her favorite things is when she’s cooking, and you come home… and come up behind her, to pull her into a dance as you hum some tune. It’s soft and sweet, and she feels just like another person when she’s with you. Even though she’ll never stay at home all the time, she’ll never abandon her family… making a home with you is something she’s always wanted, and now that she’s finally getting to do it, she couldn’t be happier figuring out what her new life is going to be like.

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Beast #Dagger #Doll/Freckles #Joker #Jumbo #Peter #Snake #Wendy #reaction #romantic #fluff #domestic #AAAAAAA THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD THEY DESERVE IT #one hell of a queue

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kamyru · 1 year

Text

Voltage Inc characters and what makes their hearts beat faster (Headcanons)

Jin Namba: When MC presses her entire body on him while they lay on the bed. It makes Jin want to hug her as tight as possible and melt in this position.

Hideki Ishigami: When MC rambles at him. Hideki has never been someone's confidant. So, knowing that MC is comfortable enough in his presence not to care what she is talking about makes him blush.

Hyogo Kaga: When MC smiles. That's it. It's enough to conquer Kaga's heart with a genuine smile that shows MC's affection for him and happiness.

Shusuke Soma: When MC tries to scare him by appearing out of nowhere. It has never worked, but seeing her so motivated and happy to do it makes Soma want to get better and better at noticing her so that she can do it forever.

Takaomi Tsugaru: When MC changes clothes in his presence. It has nothing to do with sex. But the intimacy and comfort it shows give Tsugaru more reasons to live.

Seiji Goto: When MC sends him random photos of herself. Sometimes, they don't have enough time to spend together, and getting photos from her makes him feel closer.

Ayumu Shinonome: When MC answers questions about him without even noticing. They have spent so much time getting to know each other that it's only natural that she knows Ayumu so well. Yet, her attentiveness always surprises him in the best way.

Toru Kurosawa: When MC runs towards him to hug or jump in his arms. Seeing her so excited makes Toru even more excitable than he already is.

Yukihisa Maki: When MC listens to his ramblings about topics he is interested in. Even Shun sometimes gets bored of Yuki's mushrooms, so when MC listens, remembers, and asks questions about his inner child is the happiest.

Shunichiro Tachibana: When MC plays with her engagement ring. He wants to be a safe place for her and seeing that she thinks of him like that is simply happiness.

Jun Araki: When MC waits for him at the office so they can go home together. Jun always tells her to go home and rest, but it doesn't always work, and truth be said, it makes Jun happier than he is ready to admit. He has never thought that having someone to wait for you feels so good.

Toshiaki Kijima: When MC tries her best to be silent and not bother him while he sleeps. She wants to stop him from overworking himself, and he is ready to do it to spend more moments like this with her.

Toma Kiriya: When MC asks him for help at work. He knows she is good at her job and can figure most things alone, but he also appreciates that she trusts him enough to show him her less-than-perfect sides.

Natsume Asaoka: When MC lets herself look like a slob in front of him. Natsume thinks MC is the most beautiful when she sleeps with her mouth open, doesn't brush her hair, or wears old house clothes.

Ukyo Senkawa: When MC claps her hands in the happiness of winning a game against him but stops for a second to check that he is alright. She can't hide her empathy and love for him even in the moments that are about her, and she knows that he has to protect her at all costs.

Kunihiro Kasai: When MC asks him to check her messages or notifications while she is busy with something else. Growing up in a family where infidelity was normal gave Kunihiro some trust issues. But knowing that MC is comfortable enough with him to let him enter her private space reassures him.

Daimon Togo: When MC tells him about things that have happened while he was away. He has never been too interested in gossip, but it is simply too cute to know that MC thinks that he wants to be up-to-date with some details.

Kuranosuke Kiba: When MC accidentally does something domestic at work, like calling him by his first name or brushing her fingers in his hair. It makes him question the possibility of keeping his personal and professional lives apart.

Eiji Takao: When MC looks at how he cooks. She doesn't give him any advice or comments on anything, but from time to time, she hugs him from behind. So, Eiji is ready to take on cooking duties for the rest of his life if it means seeing her like this forever.

Shu Hasunuma: When MC is so excited to tell him something and tries to combine it with what else she is doing. Like when she thinks of a joke so funny that she is trying to say it while still brushing her teeth. Shu has never felt more loved and cared about than in that moments.

Sui Claude Saigu: When MC looks directly into his eyes, waiting for explanations of his behavior. She is not pressing him. She just tries to understand him better and show that she cares. And it makes Claude appreciate her even more.

Mikoto Amamitsu: When MC sends or reads him quotes from books she likes. Reading is a hobby they share, and seeing such a personal part of her makes him feel even closer.

Ryoga Buto: When MC works out with him. They are on different levels, and both know it. However, trying as hard as possible together makes it easier and more enjoyable.

Ikki Tatsumi: When MC stays in the same room with him while they both work on their things. Knowing that she appreciates his presence near him makes him more loved and cared about than he has ever felt before.

Toshiki Kasumi: When MC thanks him for his hard work. Being called "The Angel of Death" for so long, Kasumi has forgotten how it feels to be appreciated. And when MC does it, he is always on the verge of crying for happiness.

Munechika Takado: When MC intertwines her fingers with his. She is so tiny, and he wants to protect him from everything this cruel world can come up with.

Sentaro Kyogoku: When MC finds a new medical textbook and brings it home to study with Sentaro. Her excited voice and pleading eyes will never not make his heart flutter.

Taro Akuchi: When MC puts his palms on her face to make him "see" how she looks. Taro knows every millimeter of her features. Yet he can't get enough of it.

Suzumu Mado: When MC asks him to open the jars for her. Suzumu isn't very confident in his body and strength, and knowing that MC sees him as someone stronger motivates him.

#her love in the force #irresistible mistakes #oops i said yes #plust loving u so true #plust #professional boyfriend #romance md: always on call #romance md #tokyo love hustle #voltage inc

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electricbluebutterflies · 17 days

Note

leaning back against the other while they're hugging them from behind + letojessica

This is roughly wherever the line between Choice- and mid-era is // that's the blurriest of my timeline markers and I really need to figure it out sometime. PG-ish and also on ao3.

They don’t get as many quiet moments as she would like.

This is not to say that Jessica gets nothing. She claims everything she can, everything that is not supposed to be hers, every heartbeat she can claw out and-

The rumors have changed in the past few years, at least. As compared to what she used to spend too much time defending herself against, the general belief that she is too demanding is-

She is, in this way, far less than anyone else thinks. That’s a fun little change of pace.

She had never known that domestication could be so…

She doesn’t have words for the experience she has, really. The depth of it, shared spaces shared life shared child shared-

It feels too early in the morning and it isn’t, and she moves around the bedroom and watches her partner do the same and wonders when this all became normal.

No one else would ever believe how quiet they can be together, she thinks, how little need for-

“Help?”

She can do this damned spiral bun on her own, but she needs casual touch right now and she’s terrible at actually asking for it and-

Her partner moves behind her, takes a few hairpins from her hands and places them where she likes them. He needs this too, reasons to touch her that aren’t-

They should’ve figured all of this out by now. They’re inching close to a decade together. They have a four-year-old child. (She might’ve broken the world to make that happen.) (She’ll never say that out loud. He wouldn’t believe her.) They really should’ve-

His hands slip to her waist, holding her tethering her freezing this moment, and she can’t-

Jessica bites her lip, aware what her face looks like in the mirror in front of them, the emotions she can’t hide that she can’t name and-

Who is she to claim so much?

She was supposed to be invisible. A warm body in the quiet of night, a few nesting-doll daughters – at least one, but nothing wrong with backup, could be useful pawns for schemes not yet had – and by now a deferral to someone more-

She did approximately none of that. She’s happier for it. When did her happiness start to matter? When did she-

“You’re too in your head,” her partner murmurs, and current position lets her see the worry in his eyes like she rarely gets to anymore, and-

“I’ll be alright.”

“It’s too early for you to be so-“

“Can’t become something I’ve never stopped being.”

“You do realize that makes it worse, my storm.”

She’s almost tempted to twirl around and place a kiss before he says anything else, before this gets worse, before-

She is trying not to be that person, she reminds herself, and there is something safe about the way that man cares about her, something that makes her feel so alive and-

Instead she lets herself melt into the embrace, lets herself lean back and be reminded how pleasantly solid he is and how she has made every move with full awareness and still chose this, chose him, chose-

“You are an easy person to love,” she murmurs, and she rarely says such things but it feels right in the moment. “Most real choice I’ve ever made.”

She feels him tense for a moment, and she hates that her expressions of affection make him worry more, and-

“As you are for me.”

There are conversations they will never have; there are things she only knows from offhand comments in other voices, most of them even meant for her, about how she has changed the circumstances here even though-

Even those who will never trust or approve of her can at least see how useful she’s been. Somehow that feels like a few accomplished goals.

“I know I do not say it enough, but-“

“I’m no better.”

That would be a distinct understatement, she thinks, but-

Let her freeze time like this. Let her remember, someday when memories are all she has, how well they always fit together. Two halves of a whole, perfect, let them stay perfect, let them-

“I know. I adapt accordingly.”

She slips out of his arms before she can say something she might even regret, something that might turn to a fight later – not now, there is no time for that, but perhaps in the quiet of night once they’ve both had the whole day to process the latest results of her tendency to speak without-

She wants more. She wants so much more. She wants everything. She settles for this, good-enough. At least she is loved. At least she is-

“I am amazed that you do,” her partner murmurs, slipping back into separate routines. “You don’t bend for anyone else.”

There are a great many things she does with him that she doesn’t with anyone else, but-

“You make it so easy,” she replies. “How could I deny you?”

#ebf writes fic #leto x jessica #queue

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better-view-sophia · 1 year

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loving-villanelle · 2 years

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I still can’t get over the “Villaneve just wouldn’t work” statement. Because no matter how much I keep twisting it in my head I can’t find any reason why (other than Laura Neal being homophobic, terribly heteronormative or with no understanding of love and relationships).

Bc they are bad for each other? No they are not, not anymore. We saw the forgiveness, acceptance and equality already. If something, they make each other better now.

Bc Villanelle is a bad bad murderer? Well, so is Eve. They are both messy and they love it. Villanelle is not the reason for Eve’s darkness so Eve doesn’t need to be saved from her.

Bc they would eventually get each other killed? Well, that’s a possibility but at least before that they could experience all the joys of being together. “We would consume each other before we get old. That sounds kind of nice.” It’s better to burn out than fade away was always them.

Bc they don’t like the domesticity? Well that’s not the goal in every relationship. Like Eve said it herself, you put the broken pieces together and make something completely your own. They were never gonna be like the sickly-sweet kidney-couple. They were perfectly domestic in their own way.

Bc they would never be happy? Well that’s just bullshit because we all saw that they’ve never been happier than they were together. There’s no way Villanelle would be happier killing than with Eve when her whole fucking arc has been about wanting to be loved and be something else than a killer. And there’s no way Eve would be happy in a normal life she wanted to get away from since the beginning. They were soulmates and it pains me that Laura only saw them as problematic frenemies.

Also, It’s incredibly strange from her to say that it wouldn’t work bc they could never be “good” or “normal” when the show has never cared about those things before. So, wtf.

Villaneve aren't bad for each other. I don't want to hear shit from anybody about "they're toxic" because no, sit the fuck down. Eve brought out Villanelle's humanity and made her feel things. The scene from 2x07 where Villanelle tells Eve "I feel things when I'm with you" still makes my heart do somersaults. Villanelle brings out parts of Eve that, as Sandra once put it, were on pause or never fully explored. Anything that Eve did after meeting Villanelle isn't because Villanelle made Eve "bad". Eve was already fucked up. In episode 1, before Eve ever laid eyes on Villanelle, we know that she was obsessed with women killers, stabbed her own leg with a knife, and had fantasized about how she would kill Niko (haven't we all?). They complemented each other. Villanelle introduced a freedom and a vitality that Eve had suppressed in order to live her regular old life at her regular old job with her regular old husband in her regular old house. Villanelle introduced possibility and excitement and yes, danger, but that's because she was an assassin for the Twelve, something that was no longer true by the end of the series. So tell me where the toxic aspects of their relationship were? They were these people already, Villanelle simply allowed Eve to see that she could take agency of herself, while Eve allowed Villanelle to recognize that there was so much more to her than simply being an assassin.

The thing is that no matter what Lauren Seal's fucked up reasons were, THEY LITERALLY DIDN'T MATTER BECAUSE THE SHOW WAS ENDING. All of these things that she supposedly saw or didn't see happening were of no fucking relevance, because IT'S NOTHING THAT ANY OF US WERE EVER GOING TO SEE ON OUR SCREENS. She could've given us an ending that at least allowed possibility, so that we could decide for ourselves what that next step for them might be, whether together or apart. But instead, she let her ideas of things that she couldn't see happening in EPISODES THAT WILL NEVER BE MADE dictate how she formulated her ending. Laura Neal is a cunt

#villaneve #killing eve

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mediocrevideopodcast · 3 years

Text

Normalcy

Request: aaaa can I ask for 36 with Donnie for the kissing thing? thank you, your writing makes me very happy ❤️

Prompt 36: Kissing away tears

Pairing: Donatello/Reader

Content Warnings: The first angst fic... Light angst with a happy ending!

Word Count: 1095

Donatello stretches in his bed, pulling his electric blanket closer to him. The heated fabric glides effortlessly over his shell, free of the hard metal and plastic of his battleshell and instead covered with a soft, purple hoodie. It’s a rare sight, to be sure. The neon purple lights of his room cast a cooling glow on his painted pixels, painting a scene that would put even the most devout purple-enthusiasts to shame. Any other time, he’d be sending you photos to capture the moment. Perhaps he’d attach some snarky, witty caption about how “God put him on the earth to serve looks.”

Although, today isn’t a normal day. He runs a lone finger over his phone’s screen, scrolling through long-lost social media. Yours, to be exact. Your profile is decorated with countless photos from different points in your life: friends, family, food, art… Although, most of the photos are old. Likely an abandoned account, or one that you use to keep in touch with family.

It’s hard to imagine being in a relationship when you’re so secluded from the world, Sure, he’s had thoughts: grand and fantastical thoughts of romance that sweep him away, even if they’re never voiced out loud. Oh, how his brothers would tease him if they had heard his lovesick thoughts in his youth. He’d tease himself about it too, honestly. But now, he’s here. He’s given his heart and soul and has been given anothers’ in return. Despite his confident demeanor, he never thought he’d be in an actual relationship, much less with a human, but… he’s here. He made it. And he couldn’t be happier about it! But his mind wanders back to all those nights spent alone in his thoughts, and he realizes something: he’ll never have those small, domestic displays of affection with you. No photos together on social media, no double dates on the surface, no shopping at malls for overpriced t-shirts, no...normalcy. He’s never wanted normalcy, but god, wouldn’t it be nice to spend time with you like that? Or hell, to even hold your hand like a normal person?

Oh, what he wouldn’t give to proclaim loud and proud that he’s your partner and vice versa. To put a face to the name, and for people to know that you’re as much his as he is yours. But... he can’t. And he knows that. But knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You’re so perfect. And he’s so...different.

The tears are falling before he can stop them, and he rubs at the tracks roughly. “Fucking, shit,” he hisses, shooting up from under the covers. He doesn’t know why he’s fighting the tears, but fuck, they won’t stop coming and his heart hurts and he feels pathetic and why do you even stay and-

~~~

Your hand stills above the numpad, hesitating to punch in the last number. Something about the lair feels off. Not a sense of danger per say, but… something doesn’t feel right. Your fingers graze the final number, and the door slides open with a deafening hiss. And fuck, you swear that you can feel your heart shattering at the sight before you. You walk forward quietly, taking as big of strides as you can, and sit down by his side. He jumps when you graze your hand across his shell, as though he hadn’t realized you’d come in at all. His breath stills when your eyes meet, and the look on his face can only be described as pure fear and… vulnerability. He doesn’t breathe but his tears continue to fall, leaving trails of hurt as they run from his eyes, down to his jaw, and onto the plush covers. His eyes dart around your face for a moment before landing on your fallen hand. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t breathe. Your heart aches.

“What’s wrong?” You whisper.

He doesn’t respond, eyes still glued to your hand. The silence is deafening, and it only serves to fuel your worry. His fingers twitch before curling back into themselves: just as you’re about to press again, he speaks. It’s so quiet that you hardly catch it, but you catch it nonetheless. “It’s nothing,” comes his reply.

“Donnie, please,” you plead, “I want to help. I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but please, let me help.”

“I just,” he sighs, “I don’t… Why? Why do you stay?”

“Why do I stay?” You ask, “What do you mean?”

“Why do you stay with me? I don’t- I don’t get it! You could be living some great, normal life with a human, and yet you choose me, and I don’t understand why. Like, I, I just…” He fumbles for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I… you’ll never have a normal life with me. And I want to give that to you so bad, but I’m not… I’m not human. I don’t know why you would want to stay with me.” He all but collapses into his hands as the last syllable leaves his lips, only to scratch at the new wave of tears running down his face.

“D, look at me.”

He does so, slowly, but does so nonetheless. You cup his face gently, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “Donatello, I stay with you because I love you.” You kiss his cheek. “I don’t want a normal life, and I never have.”

Kiss.

“You’re smart.”

Kiss.

“Funny.”

Kiss.

“Brave as all hell.”

Kiss.

“When I see other couples in the street, I smile. Not because I want what they have, but it makes me excited to come back home to you! To listen to you talk about your newest discovery, or your newest invention. To dance among the stars with you, or to walk between worlds with you! I love the way my hand feels in yours, and I love curling up to you in the dead of winter. I love how fucking nerdy you sound when you talk about WoW, how your eyes light up when you get passionate, and the way you talk with your hands. I love your laugh, and the way you smirk when you’re trying really hard not to smile. I love you because you’re you, Donnie. I don’t want normalcy: I want you. ”

And this time, he kisses you. His hands move like lightning to cup your face, and he kisses you like a man possessed. And in between breaths, whispers of “I love you” float out to encircle you both, like down feathers in the wind. [I hope this was okay!! I had a lot of fun writing this <3 Thank you for the kind words!]

#donatello x reader #tmnt imagine #TMNT x reader #rottmnt Donatello x reader #tmnt donatello x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato x reader #angst #fluff

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angstyclowns · 3 years

Text

Please don’t let me go.

Part 2 to this! Thank you all so much for 2K followers!

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki did not lose. Not in battles, not in competitions, friendly or not, and he would not lose you. He refused to. He would not let you go. He loved you too much. He was too selfish to let you go. He fucked up, he’d own that. He fucked up badly, though he wasn’t certain he knew how to fix it. He could hear your sobs throughout your den, making him whine.

You hadn’t done anything but cry since those blasted words left his mouth and he was beginning (Pshh beginning, he always worried about you) to get scared. Groaning, he shut off his phone, thanking any and every being out there an old friend of his was willing to take his shift (He had to send her a gift basket for her and Deku). His duffel landed on the ground with a thud before he was running to your guys room, opening the door with zero hesitation. You looked up to him with such heartbreak in your eyes. Fuck, his chest hurt.

Katsuki was never good with words, you and him both knew this, but he still had to make it right. He had too. Fuck his eyes were stinging as he approached you, making him collapse onto his knees in front of your nest. You watched him, not saying anything.

“Please, fuck I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. Any of what I said. You don’t deserve it-deserve it. You deserve so much better than me- But I don’t want to let you go-” He was crying now, making you cry as well. You understood he was stressed, and you probably weren’t making it any better. Both of you were stressed and anxious and- fuck.

This wasn’t healthy communication. You and him both knew it. You needed to fix this. With time you would. Right now though, right now you were focused on the arms wrapping around you, and thats all you would focus on for now.

---

“Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk about with this upcoming pregnancy? This is a safe space.”

Katsuki smirked at the therapist. playing with the ring on your finger as he held your hand.

“What is there to say? I’m pumped. The Bakugou genes live on and I’ve got my pretty omega by my side.”

While marriage counselling sounded terrible on paper, it wasn’t. It gave you both an outlet and coping mechanisms when hurdles appeared in your relationship, and made you both overall a lot happier.

You purred as you leaned on your alpha, making the therapist smile.

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m no longer needed here. You both seem to have impressive communication now, and I can’t see this changing when your pup arrives. Though, keep in mind when that time comes, you both will need to be top of your game.”

You watched Katsuki nod, completely entranced by the therapists words. If you would’ve told yourself about this Katsuki a year ago, when your huge fight broke out, you would’ve laughed in your own face. But now, watching Katsuki work hard to prove he was the alpha you deserve?

Your heart fluttered and the butterflies in your tummy grew restless. While a pup would be a big challenge, you and Katsuki were ready for it.

And he would be with you every step of the way.

Shouto Todoroki

His choice was made before his subconscious even had the chance to boot up. His throat closed up and his phone was crushed in his palm when it tried dragging his attention from the fact at hand. It was dropped with little remorse as Shouto quickly ran in the same direction you did, stopping you from entering your guys room. You chirped in surprise when he turned you around, pressing a searing kiss to your lips.

You wanted to fight him but Shouto didn’t let you. He didn’t let you go when you squirmed, he only tightened his grip (Not hurting you). He didn’t know when it happened, but tears were starting to drip down his cheeks.

Shouto didn’t get angry. But he got upset. He felt so guilty. Just seeing your heartbroken face replay on his mind was torture. Just knowing he had just did the same thing his father did to his mother. He was dismissing your worries and genuine concern because of his job.

“I-I don’t see how messed up this is. But I want you to tell me- show me. I want to be a better alpha for you. Bonding you wasn’t and won’t ever be a mistake to me. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to. I want to know why it’s such a big deal.”

You broke down as Shouto held you, not finding the words to explain anything just yet. You would need time to do so, and he would give you that time.

He just wanted to tell you he made his choice.

In fact, there wasn’t much of a choice at all, and he hoped-- prayed-- you could feel that.

---

“Shouto, we need you to start up the scenting again. You’re rep is dropping and-” His P.R. manager was halted with a finger, the half-and-half hero quickly dialing your number on a new-- not crushed-- phone.

“Sho? Aren’t you at work? Why are you calling? Did something-”

“Scenting things that aren’t for you, thats a breech of privacy and demeans our relationship, right?” Shouto cut you off, sending a silent apology to you.

You paused on the other end. “Yeah? We had this conversation a couple weeks ago. Are you okay?”

He smiled. “Fine. Just reminding myself.”

You both said your quick goodbyes before Shouto turned to his P.R. manager. “My omega said no.”

“Who cares what your omega thinks?! Your-”

“I’m nothing without my omega. I care what my omega thinks and what my omega says go. If her word isn’t enough then mine will be. I said no.”

Silently, Shouto patted himself on the back as he turned, trying to leave for patrol. You would be proud of his newly shined spine.

“Your-”

“Oh, before I forget. ” Shouto turned, facing the manager who was red with rage. It made him smirk. “You’re fired.”

Keigo Takami

Patrol was rough. Brutal. He couldn’t focus.

He had told you he was more important. He wasn’t.

He was a broken shell of a man. Hawks was this fucking persona he put up, and in that moment those words came from him. Not the Keigo that you dug so hard for. Not the Keigo that you ached for late at night, just wanting to hold him in your arms.

He was blurring the lines between Keigo and Hawks, with Hawks breaking through as the dominant. He didn’t want that. Not at all. He wanted Keigo to still be there. Be there for you.

Fuck this.

He was going to be there for you. Fuck the hero rankings. Fuck the commission. Fuck anything that kept him from you.

Turning around, he ignored any calls of his name, soaring faster than he had all evening to get to you. He could see you through the windows of the balcony (You both lived on the top floor, enough enough ceiling to floor windows looked nice). You were looking ahead of you blankly, wrapped in one of his sweaters. Fuck you looked like you had gone through the ring. Hair messy and eyes blotchy.

You didn’t even look over when he tumbled through the door, literally crawling to you.

Keigo would admit he had never cried since he was six. He was twenty-three now. That was seventeen years.

He would also admit he cried at your feet. Angry, painful sobs that rocked his body and made him hurt. He didn’t care though. He’d do it all for you.

He tried pleading that he was nothing without you. Hollow and empty.

To be fair though, he wasn’t even certain he was doing anything other than incoherent babbles. When your arms wrapped around him and allowed his wings to cocoon around you both, he figured he made some sense.

For you, he’d go through all the pain seventeen years of hiding would bring him.

---

“Baby bird!”

Keigo didn’t normally call out to you like he found himself doing, but recently, he’s found himself doing a lot of stuff he never imagined himself doing.

Domestic life with you was such a nice feeling.

Having you in his arms every morning, working with you as he got ready for work, watching you yourself get ready for your day. Just you.

You were perfect in everyway and it made his chest tighten with love every time he saw you.

You turned the corner with a smile, waving to him before gesturing for him to follow. He did so with a quirked brow, following you to one of the ex-guest rooms. You were giddy, bouncing slightly in your place with your scent so happy and boisterous it made Keigo purr.

When you decided he wasn’t moving fast enough, you ran back, pulling him forward and into the nursery. His son was laying there, fast asleep in a makeshift mini-nest, bright red wings wrapped around himself as a blanket.

You cooed and held onto Keigo, watching as your alpha picked up your son, holding him to his chest. The young boy merely ruffled his feathers, quickly recognizing the scent and nuzzling into his dad’s chest.

While he went through seventeen years of pain in the span of two, he had you by his side. And now, he had his son. His son which you had gifted him.

He didn’t know what he was thinking back then, but truly no one was more important than you.

And he would take that with him until the day he dies.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #Katsuki Bakugō #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #alpha keigo takami #alpha hawks #hawks x you #alpha hawks x omega reader #Shoto #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #bnha boys #bnha fanfic

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fanboysfangirl · 3 years

Text

Kiss Away Your Scars- Blake Gallo

femalereaderxblakegallo prompt- #15 "if i could kiss all your scars away, i would." warnings- their is mentions of domestic abuse and rape. word count- 898 words

Blake and I have been together for a year and a half. He knew nothing about my past relationship or why I never opened up to him about it, nor did I want him to. Sure I trusted him and I did love him but I just was not ready to talk about it. So when he showed up at my doorstep what was I supposed to do? Lie to Blake? — Today started as a normal day, Gallo and I went to work at 51 and we came home to our shared apartment. It was an everyday occurrence that I loved. "Hey don't burn that!" I yelled to Blake who was cooking burgers. "Well it's my fault your so distracting!" He yelled back to me. "Stop getting distracted than." "Then stop singing obnoxiously to every song that comes on the radio!" He said with a laugh. "You love it!" I said wrapping my arms around his back. "You know me to well y/n." He put the burgers that were thankfully not burnt onto a plate. I heard the doorbell ring. "I'll get it babe." I said walking over to see who was there. When I opened the door the smile that was on my face instantly fell. "Well, hello y/n." He said with a smirk that sent chills down my spine. He reached for my hand and I moved backwards. "What you didn't miss me?" "Blake!" I yelled into the apartment, causing him to come up behind me. "Is everything okay?" He asked. "Yes." The guy answered but I was shaking my head no. "Y/n who is this?" "Oh I'm just an old friend, right y/n?" I think Blake could tell that I was uncomfortable and scared because he pushed me behind him. "I think you should leave." Blake said to him. "And who are you to tell me what to do?" He asked stepping into our apartment. "This is my apartment, and if you don't leave I'm going to call the cops." "Oh come on! I'm sure y/n wants me here. Isn't that right?" He asked with the same bone chilling smirk he had when he first showed up. "Leave Kevin." I said from behind Blake. "See that's all I needed to here. I'll call you." He said before stepping out and leaving. As soon as Blake turned around I fell into his arms crying. "Hey, hey what's wrong?" After I didn't answer he picked me up bridal style and placed me on the couch. He sat down next to me and pulled me into his side. "Talk to me y/n, I can't help you unless I know what's going on." He said wiping a tear off my face. "You know how I told you that I got the scar on my leg from cutting myself with a razor?" He nodded. "He threw a knife at me, I needed stitches. When I told the doctor I cut myself with a razor she didn't believe me. I spent more time convincing myself that when he would hit me it was just because he was drunk. I realized it wasn't when he was just drunk when that knife got thrown at me. But I still stayed with him." His eyes caught mine. "Those weren't the only scars he gave me. The tiny scar on my forehead, was from him smashing a glass on my head. The scar on my wrist is from when he held my arm so tight that his nails dug into my skin." I couldn't help myself but let the tears fall. He pulled me tighter against his side. "When I pressed charges, he convinced the judge that I was lying. When we got home that night he raped me." I could tell Blake felt horrible. "Uhh two years ago, I was able to prove he did what he did and he went to prison, I guess the fact that he was here means he got out. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it, in fact your the only person I've ever told." He shifted on the couch so that I was sitting right in front of him. He raised my wrist up to his face and placed a sweet kiss on it followed by a sweet kiss on my forehead. "If I could kiss all your scars away, I would." I smiled at him. "I'm so sorry y/n." "It's not your fault Blake." "Listen to me, I'm gonna protect you, okay I'm never gonna let him come back here ever again." I moved so that I could kiss him. "I love you so much y/n." "I love you too Blake." He kissed me again. "Do you still want to eat?" "Can we just go to bed?" I asked. "Of course. Come on baby." He lead me into our bedroom. I fell asleep in the arms of the man I loved that night and I couldn't have been happier.

#blake gallo x reader #blake gallo imagine #blake gallo #chicago fire

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Hi Steph! Would you happen to have any fic recs that involve John meeting the Holmes family? I always think that's such an interesting dynamic to see! Also, I think this goes without saying but I love your blog and appreciate your contributions to the fandom! Thanks!

Hey Nonny!

Ah, thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog!

Oooo! Yes, I love that dynamic too!! ANNNNND!!! You’re giving me the chance to make a part 2 for a REALLY OLD LIST!!! So YAY!!! I found a bunch on a text doc I haven’t posted yet, so HERE WE GO! Hope you enjoy, and as always, everyone please add your own!

PARENTS AND FAMILIES Pt. 2

See also:

Parents & Family

Meeting the Family With a Fake Relationship

Do You Love Me? by whitchry9 (K, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Family, Epic Bromance) – John asks Sherlock perhaps the most important question.

Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...

Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he's been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w., 1 Ch. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.

The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all. (TO READ)

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) – A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #parents and families #meeting the family #Anonymous

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jolynej · 3 years

Text

I’m Not in Love

Summary: You and Prosciutto, both determined to keep things casual, are sent out on a mission to eliminate a target, but something goes wrong and you end up hurt, forcing Prosciutto to come to terms with his feelings

A/N: I started this weeks ago, but have been so busy that I haven’t had time to properly finish it until now! I’m a very slow writer, and I struggle with creating longer fics that exceed 1k words, so this was a huge labor of love! I hope that y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Warnings: heavily implied nsft, violence, guns, minor character death, blood, Prosciutto being a bit of an asshole, fainting

You both told each other when you made this arrangement that it was strictly physical and that you were only doing this out of convenience and carnal desire. Sure, he’s very attractive, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about lingering in bed and pretending that you’re still asleep if only to savor his body heat and the weight of his arm across your torso for a few more minutes. But you couldn’t possibly cross that line.

The lives that both you led didn’t allow for the luxury of developing and maintaining romantic — or any, really — relationships that were outside of your work. You’d lost friends and family members to the steady passage of time and lack of communication. It came with the territory of the job, and though you’d tried to justify your drifting relationships by assuring yourself that it was done to protect those you used to hold close, you knew that was just an excuse you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.

The initial adjustment to your new job was tough in that aspect, but Prosciutto, aside from being your mentor, slowly became a comfort and a confidant for your bouts of anxiety and late night regrets of leaving your old life behind. You’d joined him outside at night on the balcony of the hideout plenty of times. He would self-soothe with cigarettes, exhaling out his demons in the shape of a puff of smoke whilst he listened to you reminisce on your happier, less bloody days.

“It’s a damn shame you’re so good at you job,” he’d told you one particular night, when the orange and white city lights below cast a bright glow over his sharp features; yet simultaneously, it accentuated the dark circles under his eyes, and the shadows beneath those jagged angles of his cheekbones and jawline made him look far older than he was. Prosciutto looked beautiful as he did horrible.

You just shook your head and smirked, inquiring, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Kid, there were many different paths that you could’ve picked from,” He stops briefly to take a drag of his cigarette. “But this is what you opted for.” The blond flicked his cigarette and snuffed it with the toe of his oxfords, answering with, “All I’m saying is that you had your whole life ahead of you, and instead of getting a normal, decent job, you decided that this was worth the Louboutins and those diamond earrings of yours.”

“It’s good that it ended up working out for you.”

His compliments were usually pretty backhanded, but you could tell that this wasn’t just because of his usual condescending behavior. He seemed almost... sad and guilty, but then again, it could just be from the shadows on his face exaggerating his features.

“I’m glad you’re damn good at your job, too,” you remarked, leaning against the railing, savoring in the feeling of the warm, summer night wind caressing your face.

Soon, you found the touch against your cheeks was replaced by his calloused fingers and then his lips, giving birth to a routine that would continue every-so-often: you’d join him outside at night and would wake up in bed next to him in a tangle of limbs and satin sheets.

Maybe it was only natural that you and him would end up growing closer and more intimate.

—

This little arrangement between the two of you continues, and with each time you bare yourself to him, you struggle with your developing feelings. After you had slept together that first night — before you had a real chance to give yourself a proper chance to evaluate your own feelings — he assured you that the prior night’s events had meant nothing to him, that it was a mistake. He apologized, confessing that the rendezvous had stemmed from a place of pent up arousal and convenience and that it wouldn’t happen again.

That’s what he’d said the second, and third, time too. But by the fourth time, you’d both decided to become ‘coworkers with benefits’ as you’d so eloquently put it. It’s purely out of physical need and mutual trust and nothing else. There’s no time for romance.

—

The following spring, you were sent out together to a job on the coast, and were given a shared room at a hotel near the warehouse where your target was supposedly going to be tonight. The assignment had worked in your favor, you’d both arrive mid-morning, have time to scout out the location, go back to the room for a quick fuck, then proceed to the location, clean up, and spend the night between the sheets until you both passed out from sheer exhaustion.

“The target should be on location this evening,” he informs you casually as he’s sliding on his trousers, as if he hadn’t just fucked you into the mattress. He gives his watch a quick glance before speaking again. “Which gives us approximately an hour before we need to head out.”

You nod, reaching for your clothes — his hand stops you, grasping your wrist. “Let me clean you up first,” he says, briefly locking eyes with you, before averting his gaze just as quickly. “If you’re going out you should at least be comfortable.”

While Prosciutto walks off to the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water and a washcloth, you look down at your naked body. Your combined releases dribble down your thighs, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the sticky, wet sensation on your lower body.

He’s back approximately a minute later, the glass is set upon the nightstand, and he’s kneeling, still shirtless, at your feet with the wet washcloth in hand. He cleans you up in relative silence, and the intimacy and vulnerability in this situation is not lost on either of you. It hangs around like a heavy fog that both of you desperately try to ignore, hoping that it’ll dissipate.

Under different circumstances, you’d love to be able to cradle his chin in your hand and confess every single romantic thought that you’d ever held for him, and in turn, he’d press tender kisses up your thighs, and trade the rag for his tongue, cleaning you up with a few slow licks. Instead, you give him a curt, ‘thank you’ and get dressed.

Your little trysts were littered with subtle, more domestic moments like this one where you wanted to push the boundary between what is and isn’t appropriate when you’re in a friends-with-benefits situation with your coworker. Even without the romance that you so desperately craved, there was still a strong sense of intimacy and familiarity with each ‘Was I too rough?’ or ‘You can sleep in here tonight’ that could only stem from a certain level of trust and comfort.

The rest of the time leading up to your assignment was spent going over your plan of attack and working out any loose ends or confusion on either side, and as he spoke, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to travel down to his plush lips and the exposed patch of skin from his half-buttoned blouse that, when he shifted at a certain angle, allowed for you to catch a glimpse of a dark red bruise where your lips had been.

You were passing the threshold, the imaginary line. You’d stepped on it, gotten it stuck to your feet, and try as you may to deny its presence and scrub it clean from your skin — you could scrub it raw, until you bled — it wasn’t something you could erase.

As he’s stepping out of the hotel room, you glance back to ask him if he’s ready, but you’re caught off guard by the buttons of his shirt. They’re all closed completely save for a lone button rendering the bruise no longer visible. Inquisitively, the blond quirks up an eyebrow, silently asking if there’s a problem.

“I’m just ready to get this over with,” you sigh, matching your stride with his as you both exit the hotel and journey to the warehouse.

The target doesn’t show as planned, much to your and Prosciutto's dismay and annoyance. You had both searched the large building and its surroundings as thoroughly as possible but still the target hasn’t made an appearance. There aren’t even any hidden clues as to where he’s run off to. As pissed as you both felt in that moment — you were cursing to yourself and your partner was leaning against a metal structure with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth — Risotto was going to be absolutely furious.

Unlike most contracts where you were paid after the deed or half before and half after, the client had paid a hefty sum up front and with a dark leer he was insistent that the job be completed as soon as possible. Something deep within you knew that he would not be the type of man whose bad side you’d like to be on.

Defeated and angry, you both decided to bite the bullet and head back to the hotel to inform your superior of the unfortunate situation. Just outside of the hotel, Prosciutto glances over at a payphone on the street corner.

“Go on inside and shower and eat, kid, I’ll talk to Risotto.”

“Are you sure? We can speak to him together, or I can just sp—“ He cut you off with a hand patting your cheek, gently thumbing your skin. He was stressed and so were you.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he manages a tiny half-smile. “I’ve got it.”

Yeah, you are stressed as all hell, but at least you didn’t have to be at the receiving end of Risotto’s wrath — for tonight anyway. Thinking about Prosciutto opting to do so in your stead and acting out of concern for you sends a cacophony of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. He has always looked out for you ever since you’d joined, but this was something more than just him looking out for a junior member of his team. There was no way that he’d touch Formaggio or even Pesci like that, with such a pure tenderness that leaves your skin tingling from where his fingers were.

Making your way up the stairs to your shared room, the sensation of butterflies immediately flees from your stomach and instead, an eerie, insidious feeling begins to tiptoe up your spine, and you get the sense that something is very, very wrong.

One of the hall lights has gone out, and the other is flickering in random spasms as it emits a faint buzz. With each step towards your door, the broken light fixture seems to dim and buzz louder until it makes one final loud screech and dies completely the moment that you touch the door handle, and as soon as your fingers gripped the metal handle, an overpowering jolt of electricity fizzles throughout your entire body, sending you doubling over in pain, desperately croaking out for your stand as you fall to the dingy carpet.

The world around you seemed to morph into blackness and little snippets of sounds — you weren’t sure if you were still awake or if you’d lost consciousness — but you clung onto what you could decipher to the best of your ability. Static, the plodding footfall of someone running on carpet with urgency, the unmistakable click of a gun, a heavy thud, then silence.

You crane your head and espy a familiar pair of oxfords, and with a sigh of relief you feel your eyes grow heavy.

—

You come-to in the backseat of a car, and if it weren’t for the intensity of the events before you passed out, you would’ve happily shut your eyes to the steady thrum of the car speeding down the road. A bubble of panic rises up your throat, throwing your senses in overdrive as you carefully assess your surroundings. You find that a suit jacket has been draped over you like a makeshift blanket, and the familiar scent of cologne, tobacco, and cigarette-smoke is an instant relief.

Looking up, you find Prosciutto is in the driver’s seat of the car with a plain, white tank top in the place of his button-up. The bones of his knuckles are prominent due to the strain and force of his grip on the steering wheel, and they’re dotted with specks of red that extend up to his forearms.

There’s an evident scowl on his lips, which are scabbed and bloody from worrying teeth marks and not from — what you can safely assume given the sound you’d heard earlier — a gunshot to the man that had been in your hotel room.

“The target was dealt with,” he says upon seeing you awake, and he disguises it with a cough, but his entire face softens with a relieved sigh. The visible tension in his bulging veins on his forearms eases along with the death-grip that he has on the steering wheel; Prosciutto settles one hand on his thigh, splaying his fingers out on the fabric of his trousers, feeling for something in his pocket — cigarettes most likely. He’s still antsy and tense, alternating between his hands on the wheel to search his other pocket.

You have a myriad of questions wreaking havoc on your brain, which is still a bit fuzzy from the electricity and has brought on a dull headache. With the blazer clenched tightly to your chest, you fiddle around until you find a pack of his smokes and pull them out, holding them in the air with a dopey, lopsided grin that says ‘lookee here!’. It earns a playful eye roll and a smirk from Prosciutto who brings his hand back to take them from you.

When you offer the box up, your fingers brush, and you swear that he leaves his hand extended towards you a moment longer than necessary. The sensation sends a full-body chill through your veins.

“Put the coat on, kid, I don’t want you freezing up and getting sick in the car.” He’s staring straight out at the road, but you know the sentiment is there, beneath the layer of sweat and blood there’s worry. “Go back to sleep,” he orders in that gravelly, stern but caring tone of his that he uses on you when he gives you orders, and only you. In a way, it’s not that much different from how he talks in bed, and the familiarity has you warm all over. God, you’re in love with this man.

“I’ll wake you up in about an or two, capisce?”

—

You’re awoken by Prosciutto opening the door of the backseat and calling your name. You can barely see him, he’s almost a dark, looming figure in the night. The sky in the countryside is worlds away from the city skyline that you’re accustomed to. Behind him, there’s a sea of twinkling stars, and the bright crescent moon hangs proudly behind his head like a half-halo, and he appears to you like a fallen angel, still clinging on desperately to something good and holy that someone like him does not deserve. In his right hand, he holds a shovel, and his arms and face and tank top are caked in the weight of his sins, blood and dirt and sweat; you surmise that the closer you get to him, the less the moon resembles a halo and moreso a pair of horns. Again, the night is playing tricks on you.

“I’ve buried the remains,” he explains. “I decided it would be easiest to just take care of it myself until we can get you checked out. We don’t know the full extent of the damage that you’ve received or what effects that my stand could have on you in this state.” It’s a poor excuse, and you both know it, but it’s easier for him to lie to you when his facial expressions are harder to see.

Still, you don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline in your blood, your feelings for him, or some leftover electricity that’s done something to your brain, but you decide to call him out.

Sitting upright, you say, “I still could’ve helped, Prosci, otherwise there would be no point for me to come on this mission with you. You’ve done more than enough to help me, and I… I really appreciate everything that you’ve done to help me, but I have to work to earn my share of the payment!

“I can’t just lie back and let you treat me like some doll or damsel in distress!” You spout, wadding up his blazer and tossing it at him. He catches it with a growl, and the shovel clatters to the ground with a resounding clang.

He’s crawling across the backseat, hovering over you like a mangy beast; truthfully, you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look so unhinged and disheveled. His scent bears no resemblance to the comforting aroma of his suit-jacket, and instead, he emits a pungent odor of grime and sweat, evident by the damp, dirty stray pieces of hair that encircle his face and the thin layer of earth that stains his skin with splotches of gray and brown. He looks like he can hurt you, and for a second you make the mistake of thinking that he will.

“Kid, you need to listen to me! I—“ he huffs, but upon seeing your face up close, all scared and doe-like, he kisses you. It’s emotional and hurried and needy and far unlike any previous kiss that you’d shared. It’s not spurred on by wanting or lust but by love and a great fear of loss.

“I love you,” he whispers like a gasp when he pulls apart from you. “I love you,” he says once more, softer, sweeter. “I love you.”

In his eyes, you can see every word that he leaves unsaid, his confession of how afraid he was that he’d never see you again, how he panicked and saw red and shot the man on sight, how he carried you to the car with a metaphorical knife stabbing at his heart, and how he almost cried from relief when he saw you open your eyes.

“I love you, too,” you say back, smiling, kissing him again with that same passion as before.

#prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #tumblr formats things so weirdly!#jjba #my fics

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