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peterspinkrobe · 10 months

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Communion | AU Priest Miguel O’Hara x female Reader

A/N: I commissioned the above Priest Miguel. Ever since the artist sent the sketch, (@ ejpuki on twitter plz go show love!) this story has been a brewin’ in my cranium. I am not a newbie when it comes to fanfic, but a virgin to writing Miguel. Please accept this offering to the mania that is fandom. Feedback is appreciated. I know the tenses are probably all over the place. Part 2 is live!!. Let me know if you’re interested ~~

Warnings: Religious content, parents, dirty-minded reader, no mention of Y/N

As you sat in the middle pew, aisle seats, you fiddled with the dress your mother guilted you into wearing. The hem of the skirt had a little fraying and you couldn’t help but pick at it.

The meddling was met with a small smack on your wrist from your mother.

“Stop! You’re going to make it worse! I know it’s an old dress but it will only look that way if you pick at it.” The sharpness in tone and the lacy lilac dress from high school brought you back to all of the Sunday mornings you’d been ripped from the comfort of your bed to attend church.

Church. Your head was already starting to hurt from the early morning light pouring through the stained glasses windows, but your tried to remain neutral to spare mom.

Your relationship with the Almighty soured not long after your father passed. Faith was hard to come by and the struggles you’d faced recently only strained that even further.

“Sorry, mama.” You say quietly, acting like you’re still twelve and not in your mid twenties.

Ever since you moved back in you’ve had to live under “her rules”. Sunday service is one of those rules. Considering the headache you’ve caused her recently, you ignore your own and do as she asks. It’s only fair.

But church? Last week was your first time back inside a church since leaving for college five years ago. It was the same one you’d been dragged to in your younger years. The same stained pews, same old books of Psalms, same feeling of estrangement despite being surrounded by the same old folks.

Your mom had turned her attention to the lady that lived on our street and you turned your own attention to your fingernails, scraping underneath them for dirt that wasn’t there. You think about how you had dropped the habit until moving back in, but was interrupted by microphone static.

You pulled your gaze to the front of the church and saw Father Steen tapping the microphone. Despite only being five years since you last saw him, the man seemed to have aged decades. His frail frame balanced on the podium as he spoke. You realized why the microphone was needed when he started speaking - amplifying the hushed tone of the elder addressing his congregation.

“Good morning and many blessings to you all this Sunday morning,” he began and you couldn’t help but lower your gaze back to the frayed bit of your dress. His monotone voice was… kinda boring. You hated thinking that way because Father Steen was such a good man and he cared for your mother greatly when dad passed. He was mentioning an upcoming surgery and you were back to picking at your fingernails. His voice eked on through the speakers, “so we will be having a transitional deacon come in to take over my position until I recover. This fine young man has graciously accepted this position as he is working to become a priest himself. Please welcome Mr. O’Hara as he leads us in prayer to begin communion for this month.”

There is respectful applause and your eyes are still on your hands until your mom elbows you gently. You start to apologize again for not paying attention but notice she and her pew neighbor are giggling as they clap. You start to clap your own hands as you look up at what they were giggling like schoolgirls about when your hands freeze in their clapped position - almost like you’re praying.

The deacon that Father Steen introduced was… gorgeous, and he was looking at you. You blushed, embarrassingly, under the gaze of the dark eyes. Could he tell you hadn’t been paying attention?

Well, you most certainly were now.

You pulled your eyes away from him to look at your mother who was wiggling her eyebrows at you, causing you to blush even deeper and turn back to the front.

The first thing you notice about the man standing at the front of the church was his height. He towered over the podium he placed a hand on. Father Steen came up to only just above his elbows with his hunched body.

The eyes that were watching you now surveyed the room and the light from the windows shown dark, warm pools of irises. His face…

Sharp symmetry made up his countenance. Distinct cheekbones bobbing as the smooth bronze skin stretched upwards into a smile. The strong jawline accentuated with the muscles of his lips pulling back, revealing a dazzling toothy smile.

When he spoke for the first time, you understood why your mom cried during Psalms at times. His voice was gospel.

“Thank you, all, for welcoming me into your parish. I know that you have received excellent spiritual guidance from Father Steen. I can only hope to at least partially fill his shoes in his absence.” His voice boomed throughout the church with no need for a microphone. “Before we begin the sacred ritual that is communion, let us bow our heads in prayer.”

The church around you dutifully lowered their heads, and you did the same. Hating closing your eyes to the alluring man in front of the church. At least his voice still filled your ears with song.

“Heavenly Father, we are gathered here today, in your house, in the name of your Son to receive the Body and Blood of Christ…” you decide it won’t be such a terrible sin to sneak a peek during prayer. You lift your head up to catch another glimpse at the ethereal creature leading prayer while he wasn’t looking.

But he was looking. Right at you as he continued to recite, “We are all sinners, and we are all in need of your grace and forgiveness.” You start to think about how much you needed his grace, when you pinch yourself for the blasphemy.

You’re still staring at each other as he finishes, “We pray that You will bless this communion and that it will deepen our relationships with You.” You instantly feel heat in your gut when you wonder just how deep it can go..

You think you see him grin slightly, but he pulls his eyes away from yours and you quickly put your head back down.

“In Your Blessed Name, Amen.” He ends. “Amen”, the church responds in unison and you squeak it out as well.

The first pew stands and approaches the front of the church, choir boys retrieving the communion goods. You notice that there is a split in the line as one is given the small wafer and grape juice shot by Father Steen and the other line the new deacon.

You can’t keep your eyes off him as he offers the sacrament to each person in line. He is taking longer than Father Steen, seeming to ask questions before presenting the body and blood of a savior.

As it came to be your pew’s turn, you stood. With only a few people in front of you, you studied Miguel’s figure in short glances.

Along with being a towering figure, he was a wide one as well. Muscles filled in the long-sleeved black button down shirt. His large upper body tapered off into a slim waist, tucked neatly into dark pants. A belt accentuated the fit waist even further. Your eyes trailed quickly across the thick neck that was accessorized by the all too familiar white collar of priesthood. When you were just behind one more person, your eyes fell to the floor.

Part of you wished you would be on Father Steen’s side as you feel as though you’re about to burst from this proximity of the giant man. He was bent over speaking to an elder of the church, giving her a soft smile as she blessed him for coming to ‘our little church.’

The man in line in front of you stood to Father Steen and the woman was letting Mr. O’Hara go from a sweet embrace.

Thank God, you guessed, for the years of attending communion as your muscle memory tore your legs from their form rooted position at the altar.

You approached the tall figure and your eyes are locked on the lips of the man in front of you. You see them move, hearing nothing but the beating of your heart in your eardrums.

“I-I’m sorry. What?” You sputter the words and heat creeps into your chest and face.

A soft chuckle escapes his full lips and he smiles as he repeats, “What is your name?”

You give it to him. And he says it. The way your name sounds in his music makes you smile up at him. He holds your gaze for a moment before speaking again.

“The Body of Christ.” He extends his hand in an upward position, the white wafer between his index finger and thumb.

You bow your head slightly in reverence of the offering. As you start to pull your head up again, his pinky and ring finger catch under your chin, lifting your face the rest of the way.

You breathe out a small gasp and open your mouth. He seems to mirror the action slightly as his own mouth drops slightly open. You extend your tongue a little as he places the thin wafer onto it.

His gaze is heavy as he watches you take the offering into your mouth. Your breath hitches when he runs his thumb across your pouted bottom lip, catching some saliva with it.

“Amen.” You respond and it’s not until he pulls his hand from your face when you turn to grab a small glass of grape juice. “The Precious Blood.” You hear him say behind you as you bring the glass to your lips, relishing the sweet refreshment.

Your face is red hot as you turn to walk back to your pew, ignoring your mother’s glances as she had already been back to her seat.

The burning in your cheeks is even more fiery as it dawns on you that the whole church saw the exchange. You hope, you pray, that it was perceived as a normal moment between a new Shepard and a member of his flock.

Communion wraps up and Father Steen takes a seat behind the the new head of church as he begins his sermon. The slight pressure of his thumb on your bottom lip created a pool of heat in your belly that wouldn’t go away.

You try to pay attention to the Good Word, you really do, but your mind is other places. Definitely not holy places.

Maybe coming to church won’t be too bad after all…

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #priest au #atsv miguel #miguel x you #how do i even tag this #fanfic #spiderverse fanfic

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bloodybreakupscene · 11 months

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-> 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊

miles morales x reader

-> miles having a crush on a bakery worker!! r y'all soulmates or what? (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

-> idea was cute and also i just [re]watched both movies so plz send requests pretty please >__< !! totally not inspired by the song she lives on my block by chicano batman

"miles! can you pick up the—" rio, miles' mother, called from the kitchen, she was currently on the phone with someone as she was cooking.

"the cake? yeah i got it!" he unintentionally interrupted his mom while he walked downstairs putting his jacket on. his footsteps on the stairs making a squeaking sound as he traveled down.

"aye, this boy. be quick, your father will be home soon!" she ushered miles out the door, father's day was today and they wanted to do something special for him.

just before he exits his apartment he grabs his bag, waving 'bye' to his mom. he runs as quickly as he can down the stairs so he can reach the bakery faster. he contemplates putting his suit on and swinging to the location instead but he didn't feel like changing.

miles puts his headphones on and saunters hurriedly through the crowds of people that seemed to come out of nowhere. he sees some people he knows and waves to them, making small conversations with some. just as he reaches the bakery door, he checks himself out in one of the windows.

'i got this,' he thinks as he fixes his outfit and hair in the mirror. his thoughts stop as one of the workers sprays cleaner on the window, wiping the area where his face was. they looked at him confused with an eyebrow raised and all he could respond with was an awkward smile, before walking in.

he shoves his hands in his pocket and walks towards the register where you were working, you looked up from the cash you were counting and instead, at him. he looks at you with lidded eyes as he leaned on the counter, smiling at you. not sure what the hell he was doing you asked,

"uh miles, do you need something?"

his expression changes and his normal happy expression was back, "oh, yeah! i'm here to pick up a cake for rio morales?"

"alright!" you proceeded into the back to look for a cake with the label rio morales, who you recognized to be miles' mom, who came in every once in while

as he saw you walk away he face palmed. 'what am i doing!? i can't do this.' he was sweating so bad, he just really liked you, if that wasn't obvious already. the other worker saw how nervous he was and walked up to him.

"miles."

"huh—? how do you know my name?" he questioned.

"same physics class? i sit next to you. . . ?" the worker said, slightly annoyed.

"oh yeah, yeah, i remember."

"you're trying too hard."

"excuse me?"

"you like (name) right?" worker dude, miles' forgotten classmate, states in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "they like you too, trust, just be you, man."

"okay, i got the cake, sorry it took kinda long, we have a ton of other orders." you laughed a bit at the end of your sentence as miles turned away from worker dude, who went back to cleaning.

"nah it's good, uh, totally random question…but are you free next sunday?" he says, taking the dessert from your hands.

"yeah," you said rather quietly before clearing your throat, "yeah, yeah i am, uh, why?"

"there's this movie i've been wanting to see for awhile, i got two tickets but ganke couldn't go, said something about working on a final." he smiles, holding the cake with one arm and fiddling with the zipper of his jacket with his other.

"oh! yeah i'd like to go." you responded, big smile plastered across your face.

"great, that's good, i'll text you the time, i could go over to your place! and we can walk there together." miles exclaims, an even bigger smile on his face.

"that sounds nice, can't wait." you giggled.

miles smiles, "well i got to go now, my mom's probably waiting for me." he begins to walk backwards confidently, before bumping into a table, almost knocking a napkin holder over, however he quickly grabbed it before it fell. he shoots you an awkward smile as he runs out the door.

"y'all are so corny." the worker rolls their eyes, putting the cleaning supplies away.

"you're just mad no one's asked you out yet." you shot back.

miles finally got back to his apartment, closing and locking the door behind him.

"miles?"

he sighed, looking up at the ceiling before turning around and facing both his parents.

"hi mamí, dad." he proceeds towards the table they sat at and put the cake down. "happy father's day!"

"why were you home so late? the bakery's what? ten minutes away? it's been an hour." rio asked, concerned.

"what's going on with you miles?" his father, jeff, said, backing up his wife.

"nothing! i was just, you know, talking with people!"

his mother gasped, both miles and jeff looked at her nervously.

"you were talking to that bakery worker, weren't you!"

"what–? miles, what's she talking about?" his father asks, confused.

"no i wasn—"

"our little boy's got a crush on that nice worker at the bakery! i always see his eyes turn into hearts when they walk by."

they both laugh aside from miles, who frowns and takes a seat, arms crossed.

#into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #spiderman x you #beyond the spiderverse #sony spiderverse

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cameronspecial · 3 months

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What if Drew meets the actress!reader' parents and older brother at a family dinner, he would be graciously greeted by their kindness of her family, especially her mother who seems to have a little crush on him. Her father will tell all the funny anecdotes of his childhood and her brother who teases them about marriage of them 😏😅 It's rather embarrassing for her but it's a good night for Drew

Plz can u doing that !?

The Embarrassing Meet

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Masterlist

Y/N has brought home boyfriends since she got famous. Other Actors. Authors. Musicians. Even sons of famous people. However, she hasn’t been as nervous about bringing them home as she was about bringing Drew home. She is incredibly in love with him and family meetings always seem to chase her boyfriends away. Not only are they embarrassing for her, but they also make her boyfriends realize that her home life is not as glamorous as they want it to be. Drew holds the passenger’s side door open for her. She smiles at him, dropping it once she sees her family at the open front door already. “Oh my goodness, look how handsome he is. And he is tall too. He could get all the stuff on the high shelves for us and we could have tall grandchildren, Jeremy,” her mother gushes. The older Y/L/N woman comes running to hug the new arrivals. Drew is more than happy to receive it while Y/N crosses her arms at her mom. “We literally just got here, Mom. Do you have to lay it on so thick?” she asks. Drew smiles at Emily, “It’s okay, Y/N/N. I’m honestly flattered that I’m already making a good impression and I would love to grab anything you need, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Emily’s face warms up and she hits Drew’s bicep playfully. “Please, call me Emily. We have a shelf that needs hanging if you are okay with being put to work,” her mom offers. “I would be more than glad to help out with that.”

———

Drew and Jeremy stand in front of the wall. The shorter of the two reaches up high with his hands to approximate how high they want the shelf. Y/N sits on the sofa with her mother while her brother makes dinner, watching the two men do the work. Her father tries to lift the heavy shelf they are going to put up, but he freezes and holds his hand to his lower back. Drew holds a hand out to the older man and takes the slab of wood from him. “I’ve got it, Jeremy. I see the nice woodwork you have on the other shelves. Is that what this shelf is for?” Drew questions, using the pencil to mark where he needs to put the screws. Jeremy beams and picks up one of his pieces. He shows drew the wooden duck, “Yes. I’ve been doing it since I was in high school. My best subject was wood shop. I made this duck for Y/N/N when she was little. She would refuse to take a bath unless it was beside her. If it wasn’t near the tub near bath time, then she would run around the house naked looking for it.” “Ugh, Dad! Do you have to tell that story? It’s so awkward,” Y/N complains, burying her head in a pillow. Drew chuckles and takes the duck into his hand, “What are you talking about? I think it’s an adorable story. Might have to make you another duck if it that’s how you react without one. Plus, I would love to spend more time with your dad while he teaches me.” Drew’s laughter increases as he catches the pillow that is whipped at his head.

———

Jeremy and Emily stay at the front door to wave the couple off whilst Gideon follows his sister and Drew to the car. He leans against the open car window to formally say goodbye. “Okay, so I expect a wedding invitation within a year. You got me, Starkey? You are too good for this family to let go of,” Gideon orders with a finger pointed at the male in the driver’s seat. Drew glances at Y/N with a grin before looking at Gideon, “I got you. I would be crazy to let your sister go.” Gideon slaps the car door in satisfaction. “Good. I knew I liked you for a reason. Okay, bye you two. Drive safe.” He straightens up with a wave and steps back so Drew can drive off. Y/N sinks lower into the seat at the sound of her family very loudly wishing them goodbye one more time from outside of her car. “I hated that so much. I didn’t know I had so many embarrassing childhood stories.” Drew chortles, “What are you talking about? I loved it. I think I made a great impression with my future in-laws. I can’t wait to see them again.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x you

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libraryofgage · 4 months

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Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

#steddie #steddie fic #harlequin prince #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve deserves good parents actually #bruce wayne #dc comics crossover #harley quinn #poison ivy #this bitch has been sitting in my drafts for so long guys hfjkds #so excited to finally release it into the wild

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moneymartin · 9 days

Note

OKOK SO I JUST SAW THE NOTIF!!

so hear me out…maybe reader is like a fam friend of Kate’s. They were best friends and played together all the time. They went to Iowa together, and are roommates. Reader plays volleyball, soccer, softball, wtv you want. And like a slow burn friends to lovers!!?? (i’m a whore for friends to lovers) i’m talking mutual pining, years of attraction and feelings…literally brewing for 22 years (kate’s going to be 24 soon, so like they’re moms were bestfriends so Kate and readers friendship started when they were like 2?)

PLSPLSPLSPLS IF U CAN!?😋

・❥・- no hard feelings.

summary: basically the req lol. r plays soccer at uoi and kate is a nervous wreck 😭

warnings: none rlly… just the use of y/n if that even counts as one??? 💀

rpf!!! don’t read it if ur uncomfortable 😣

wc: 2.25k

a/n: not my usual stuff, i know. i’ve just been itching to write something about kate :( plz don’t unfollow me guys and don’t leave me mooties </3 🤧 i swear i’m going back on my yjs grind once school ends. every divider is a timeskip btw cuz this is lowk long and im layz asfk… also kind of messy i’m so sorry

NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

22 years. you and kate have been friends for 22 fucking years, and she hasn’t picked up yet. your very obvious feelings for her are starting to fade the more she’s been avoiding them. it sucks so fucking much.

these stupid feelings started when both of you ended up at the same university and the same dorm. you never saw kate in that light. she was your mom’s best friend’s kid, and the rest was history. you played tackle football with her when she had nobody else to play with, practiced basketball with her. you two were practically attached to the hip. the same elementary, middle school, highschool, and the same damn college.

it wasn’t like you could just leave too. the scholarship you were offered for soccer was totally worth the taking, and you couldn’t leave behind the team either. the first few times you gained feelings for kate was when you were in middle school. ‘experimenting’ with your feelings. well, that was your guys’ excuse after you two losers got caught by her mom. after that it was just dating stupid boys to get your head out of it and your head off of kate. thankfully, she was trying to do the same exact solution. you knew a lot about her.

but the one thing you didn’t know was that she felt the exact same. she was just too scared to say it. its not like she wants to lose a 22 year friendship over her uncontrollable feelings. first thing she did was go to caitlin, and she was practically freaking the hell out over it. cait was definitely the anchor between the both of you. helping you with accidental arguments so you didn’t lose kate, helping you out with what to say when she was upset. it was good having someone like that, but it was so incredibly stressful having to consistently ask for some sort of advice.

eventually you were tired of it. tired of waiting for something to happen. waiting for a move to be made by kate or maybe just a few little hints that kept you going. although you couldn’t anymore. it was draining, like someone who didn’t realize what you felt about them. you told caitlin everything after that reality set in for you. it was the blinding of your feelings that let everything slip through your mind and basically fly over your head. how could you be so naive to believe that she did and you were just trying hard for nothing in return. it was dumb, and you knew that much.

one night after a long day of testing and practice, you stumble your way into your dorm, the door locked and a frown crossing your face. the keys were in your stupid locker. “open the door, please..” you murmur, voice tired and confused. you bring your fist up to the door and knock softly, the sound of the lock clicking and the door creaking open. “jeez. soccer must’ve been a pain in the ass. you look like shit.” kate laughs, grabbing your arm gently to stable your body. letting out a heavy huff of breath, you lean slightly into her and drop your arms to your sides. “tell me about it.” she smiles and hoists you up carefully, locking the door and bringing you to the living room.

the moment your butt hits the couch cushion you let out a soft sigh and look at kate, her big stupid and soft eyes locking onto yours. the corners of your lips curl up slightly and you snicker, raising your eyebrows. “do you really wanna know? cause its a stupid story.” you exaggerate and rub the back of your neck. kate takes the spot next to you and nods continuously, her head leaning onto your shoulder. “trust me, dude. i wanna hear it.”

“kay, well… coach dilanni was being a total douche about what i wanted to practice. i mean, its fucking practice for a reason. i’m supposed to practice what i need to practice! not what he wants me to practice.” your voice gets a little low and you start to slur out your words. the repeated words and slow murmurs make her laugh a little, her arm hooking around your neck and bringing your head towards hers. “and he gave me so much attitude. like, the more i tried to defend myself the more he spoke over me. the old head was thinking about benching me during the champ game!!!” you blurt out and let out a groan.

she starts to realize just how tired you are and pouts, her head moving away, and her hands cupping your face. your head involuntarily moves to stare at hers, your eyes half open, your lips pursed slightly, and your head dropped down a little. “he looks like a nice old guy but deep down that man has some serious problems,” you grumble. “and don’t even get me started on the tests i had to take.” kate’s eyebrows raise and her face stills for a moment when you bury your face deep into her neck. your breath tickles at her skin and she feels shivers running up and down her back. you’re so tired you don’t even realize what you’re doing.

“y/n…” she breathes out heavily and you hear her swallow down whatever she needs to say. your head pulls out and you look at her with big eyes too, just like how she did earlier. water forms in your ducts as you try to fight off the sleepiness, but the way kate is looking at you makes it hard to get off of her. “hm?” you hum and drop your head against her shoulder. “never mind, okay.” her voice drops too and softens a bit, a familiar heat rushing up to your face when she runs her fingers up and down your back.

the warmth of her body and the relief you feel when you hear her voice makes your head spin like crazy. its like she knows what you feel about her and is just doing this to mess with you. the second your eyes shut, kate sucks in a sharp breath in through her teeth and practically manhandles you. gently, of course. but shes picked you up like a damn baby and you don’t have the slightest intention of stopping her from doing it.

your stomach spins and churns awkwardly from the contact. you’ve known kate all your life, but right now it feels like you just saw her on campus for the first time. after you got that news you guys shared a room together. you suddenly get the reminder of your feelings for her, like a shit ton of fireworks igniting in your stomach. more so reigniting. she brushes her fingers up against your face to move a few strands of hair from it.

kate likes you. she really fucking does, and its just the fact that she can’t spit it out no matter how much she wants to. no matter how much she wants to scream it from the rooftop and tell the whole world about how she feels. she thinks you’re the prettiest girl she’s ever seen and she has that gut feeling where she believes that you feel the same way. she isn’t stupid but shes smitten and that’s blinding her as well. just like how it did to you.

“y’know how we’ve been friends for like.. a bajillion years?” she laughs nervously and curls her lips downwards a bit. you know that shes nervous and its starting to make you nervous too. you’re starting to sweat a little underneath your shirt and you can somehow feel it under your skin. “yeah, why?” you ask and open your eyes to look at her face. its all red, her eyes open wide with anxiety, and her mouth slightly parted.

“okay, listen to me and don’t freak out… please.” kate squeaks out and moves her hands away from you. her reactions and jitters cause you to sit up and watch her every move just to make sure she really doesn’t start to freak. theres a feeling in your stomach that can’t really be put into words. it’s that feeling where you wanna throw up because of your nerves and the wanna jump off a bridge before you hear what she says. “i won’t go crazy, you idiot. what’s wrong with you?” you ask with a little chuckle but it quickly fades away when you realize what she’s about to say.

you’re not feeling this because you’re embarrassed of what she’s feeling. you’re just nervous and not used to it. at least thats what you’re telling yourself. there’s a little voice in your head repeatedly telling you to “calm the fuck down!” and it isn’t really helping. your brain is fried from the tiredness you feel too, but this seems really important. “nothing is wrong with me, i just dunno.. need to tell you something before its too late.” she whispers and tilts her head to the side a little, figuring out how she has to say it and if she really should let you know. now that she’s declared that she needs to say this little thing before its ‘too late’ confirms everything you need to know.

“this probably sounds stupid and dumb and i’m going to sound like the biggest loser in the world,” she starts, her voice cracking and her face contorting in different ways you’ve never seen before. in all the years you’ve know kate, shes never been so anxious and nervous about something like this before. its kinda scary. “but i think i’m like.. really in love with you.” she stumbles over her words and buries her face into her hands. it takes you a moment to process what she says as the sleepiness corrupts your mind. “i’m sorry, what?” you mutter.

“i said i like you!!!” kate blurts out and you watch her face turn the reddest you’ve ever seen it. you’ve been with her for almost all of her relationships and this is the first time her face has ever looked like that. her previous partners have never had her like this, they’ve never had her the way you have, and you’re realizing that just now. “oh.” you gulp. the words you’ve been waiting to hear for more than half of your life have finally been said, and it is the greatest relief you’ve ever felt in your life. and everything makes sense now.

the way kate brushes up against you in the halls, the fact she always walks you to your classes no matter how far hers is from it, her taking you to soccer practice, her watching your games like how you watch her, and the fact that you are the reason she blushes like she’s embarrassed herself. although she hasn’t, she’s just so into you, and nothing is gonna change the way she feels. “‘oh?’ is that it?” kate spits out and starts to panic a little. after she’s just admitted, she’s expected something different from you. maybe the same thing? she doesn’t know what she was expecting, it just wasn’t that.

your eyes widen and your face grows redder the longer you stare at her and when your tiny tired peabrain registers that she reciprocates what you feel. “no! that’s not it, stupid, i like you too!” you blurt out as well and push her shoulders. kate has a look of something on her face. you can’t tell what it is but she seems happy about what you said, and that makes your emotions explode. “okay, you know what? i love you, actually! i love you, i love you, i love you!!!!!!!!” you stutter out a bunch of times. years and years of hoping and waiting that she’ll finally do something comes to a stop. “i have my whole damn life.” you murmur, catching your breath slightly from the continuous shouting of your feelings at her. the burning and churning in your stomach goes away and is replaced with a certain sense of relief. a relief that you haven’t felt in ages.

“oh so, you’re serious, serious?”

“yes, okay. i’m not joking, like i meant everything.”

“say you swear or i won’t believe one word you say.”

“i swear on coach dilanni’s life.” you giggle, fingers threading through kate’s blonde strands. her head is propped up on your chest and her eyes are slightly open. you two have been sitting there for about ten minutes, talking about why or how you even got these stupid little feelings for each other. but none of you are complaining. matter of fact, you’re both on the verge of falling asleep but the presence from each other makes you both wanna stay up all damn night if you could.

“he’s not gonna like that...” she murmurs, voice soft and slurring a bit. kate wraps her arms tight around your waist, her head moving into a more comfortable position. your hands are all over the place and you’re basically just messing up her hair, one of her eyes closing when a few strands get in her face. “you have no idea what you’re doing, huh?” her lips turn into that smile you know all too well now, and her eyes closing completely. a yawn escapes from in between your lips and she hears it, snapping her head upwards, that smile turning into a smirk.

“kiss me.”

and you do.

#kate martin #kate martin x reader #mine #wcbb x reader #wcbb x you #rpf #this is so bad #coach dilanni im sorry ur probably a good man 😞

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agendabymooner · 6 months

Text

look what god gave her ! fernando a. x ofc (pro wrestler!ofc)

"she walks in the room, it's like he answered my prayers."

summary: everybody learned how to appreciate fernando's wife, trish alonso, one day at a time. OR, a series of tweets in which fans dug deeper into the lives and relationship of the alonso couple back in 2000s.

content warning: possible use of explicit language, dad!fernando x mom!ofc, mentions scandals (cheating, spygate, crashgate), thirsty grid and thirsty nando incoming, brief mention of jenson button x ofc, mentions break ups

note: nando fuckers unite!! older men kick continues with this smau but worry not, there'll be more. also! please don't hesitate to send me prompts for headcanons or blurbs! the ask inbox is open and available for requests or questions! enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

tagged fernandoalo_oficial

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, georgerussell63

user1 dilf nando, dilf nando, dilf nando 😩

user2 (s)creaming /j

user3 el plan(t a child in me pls)

user4 y'all- 💀 touch grass

lewishamilton much needed 🙌 liked by thetrishalonso

lance_stroll where's my godson??? 🤔 liked by thetrishalonso

carlossainzjr and mine??? 😕 liked by thetrishalonso

thetrishalonso lance_stroll carlossainzjr tino and tiago are being mini fernandos as always 😒 cranky and pouty when i'm not holding them for the pictures

user5 YES TRISH OUT HIM!!!!

user6 clingy nando is canon?? 🥺

fernandoalo_oficial no pictures of you? 🤔 liked by thetrishalonso

thetrishalonso you hogged all of them on your phone and never gave them to me so i can't post them 😕

user7 dashing to nando's gram rq 🏃‍♀️

[ translation: i have the sexiest wife ever ]

tagged thetrishalonso

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, mickschumacher

user1 oh no... it's a trish alonso dump post- RUN 🏃‍♀️

user2 the whole grid are holding onto their dear lives rn 🥲

user3 horknee f1 drivers appearing in 3...2...1...

pierregasly indeed 😍

user4 pierre plz 😨 this is her husband's insta

pierregasly who's stopping me 🤷‍♀️

user4 pardon??? 😳

landonorris i agree, fernando! 🙌

maxfewtrell mate... this is embarrassing...

user5 max the wag >>>

mickschumacher sí ! 🤩

user6 no, mick! horny! ❌

carlossainzjr i don't blame you nando 🙌

user7 😰 y'all got death wish fr

thetrishalonso realmente sabes cómo hacerme sonrojar, ¿eh? 😆 you really know how to make me blush, huh? liked by fernandoalo_oficial

fernandoalo_oficial nadie puede hacerlo excepto yo, hermosa 🤗 nobody can do it like me, beautiful

user8 mom pick me up i'm scared 😥

user9 the whole grid are crying just seeing these two flirt on main 🤣

bonus !!!

#fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso au #fernando alonso #fernando alonso fic #formula one imagine #formula one fic #formula one x oc #formula one fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula one smau #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 fluff #fernando alonso smau #fernando alonso x oc #fernando alonso instagram au

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oneforthemunny · 1 year

Text

yayo |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 1

prompt: when your younger sister calls you to pick her and her friend up, it leads you to meeting her dad.

reader is of age, 25 or 26 in this story. Eddie is 42. if this isn't your thing, don't read, but everything is consensual.

contains: age gap, language, drinking (more in later chapters)

this is part one of a series I'm hoping to do. hope you enjoy. minors dni plz.

"Hey," It was Madeline, her voice small and quiet. You sat up, running a hand down your face. "I need you to come get me. Please."

"Why?" You were already up, yanking your phone from the charger and kicking around the discarded clothes in your dark room for your shoes. "What's going on? Are you ok?"

There was a loud cackle from the other end, in the background of the call that had a loud crashing sound following. "Yeah, I'm fine." Madeline huffed. "I just- Brie, please, just get down- can you come get us?" Madeline hesitated. "We're kinda fucked up."

You paused, phone balanced on your shoulder and cheek as you wrangled on your tennis shoes. "Are you serious?" No answer. "Maddy, it's a Wednesday. A school night, cmon-"

"-I know, God." Madeline sighed. "If I wanted a lecture I would've called Mom and Dad." The classic 'little sister' whine lilted in her voice that had your eyes rolling into your skull, shoulders tightening with annoyance. "Just please?"

"Send me your location." You huffed, locking the door to your small apartment.

"Thank you." You could practically hear her smile, triumphant and smug. You always helped her out. Of course you did. What else were older sister's for?

"I'll be there in a few, ok?" You started your car, the steering wheel cold from the night chill. Turning up the heat, you shifted your phone to the other ear. "I'll text you when I'm close."

Madeline was huddled right where she said she would be. On the sidewalk in front of the house. She stood, arms clasped over her chest to keep herself warm. A girl sat beside her, swaying on the concrete sidewalk.

Madeline spotted you, grabbing her friend by the arms to lift her up. You watched the girl stumble in your little sister's arms, shuffling towards you. "Thought it was just you?" You asked, craning your neck to look at the two climbing into the backseat.

"Brie needed a ride." Madeline said, giving a pointed look to the intoxicated girl, who rested her forehead against your window. "She just lives down the road. I just didn't want her to walk like this." Brielle was barefoot, hair and makeup smudged from the humid atmosphere of the party. She looked like a mess.

You rolled your eyes. "She better not throw up." You mumbled, throwing your gear shift into drive.

"I would-I would never." Brielle slurred, eyes glassy and dazed as she looked at you.

Brielle had been around for a while, her and Madeline becoming friends their freshman year. You'd been out of the house for a while before then, but you recognized the name- when it was tossed around at family dinners and the occasional tag on Facebook or Instagram.

"Her house is right up here." Madeline pointed towards the small neighborhood on the right.

Bloomington Lane, the street sign shined in your headlights, faded gold writing on the black post. The houses were quaint, not quite white picket suburbia, but nice. Madeline pointed to the mailbox marked '505', the black pavement of the driveway with a car cover that sheltered a pick up truck.

"Shit," You hissed, eyes bulging as you pulled in the drive.

Underneath the porch light in a cloud of smoke sat an older man, curly hair disheveled and illuminated in the light, arms crossed furiously in a utility jacket. He lifted his gaze, sharp and challenging, brown eyes narrowed pointedly as he stood.

"Oh, shit." Madeline whimpered, sinking into the back seat. "That's her dad."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You hissed, head whipping around to glare at Madeline.

"Brie, Brie, you gotta wake up." Madeline shook her friend frantically, who didn't move, mouth opened in a snore and still pressed against the cool window.

You rolled down your window hesitantly as the man loomed over you. "Hi," You squeaked, trying to mask your nerves under his intimidating glare. "I, uh, I-I'm just bringing Brielle home."

His eyes cut from yours to the back seat, scoffing as he ran a hand down his face. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, she's drunk?"

The tone of his question made your heart hammer, shrinking into your seat. "Yeah," You nodded carefully. "I, uh, I just came and got them. I'm Madeline's sister, and-and she called me to come get them, and well, I didn't want her to walk home or anything so-"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Munson." Madeline chirped, cutting off your anxious rambling. "I tried to get her not to drink so much, and I stayed with her the whole time so nothing bad could happen."

"Mr. Munson" clenched his jaw, eyes softening the slightest bit at your younger sister. He didn't speak, just reached for the door handle, yanking it open.

You cringed, a warning barely escaping your lips as Brielle fell forward slightly, but he caught her before she did. "Oh, let me help you-" You were unfastening your seat belt before his harsh glare met yours.

"No." He barked, hauling her out by her shoulders, Brielle slack in his arms. "I think you've done enough." He hissed, eyes cutting into yours then back at Madeline's. She looked down, avoiding the glare as he supported the dead weight in his arms, grunting and moving towards the house.

"I-I'm sorry, again." You said nervously, heart fluttering with nerves. You didn't even know why you were apologizing, you didn't do anything wrong. But you just felt like you should, especially with how upset he was.

The older man looked over his shoulder, a hard glare thrown your way that had your face flushing, before he slammed the front door so hard you were surprised the glass didn't break.

You turned to Madeline as you began to back out of the driveway, brows furrowed. "You owe me big time for this one."

***

You rolled your neck slowly, working out the kink that was slowly starting to form in the base and ache. After the events of the night before, followed by a full day of teaching hyper seven year olds, and finishing with an agonizing shift at the local cafe- because let's face it, that school didn't pay shit; all you needed was a hot bath to soothe your stressed muscles.

Instead, you wrapped your apron tighter around your waist, pushing any stray hairs behind your ear before you escaped the shelter of the break room. "Hey, before you come back here," Lily moved from behind the espresso machine, steam flying over her face. "Some guy is asking for you in the corner booth."

You paused. "Some guy?" You repeated, lifting a brow. "Who? Oh, God, it's not Billy again is it?"

Lily shook her head. "No, someone else. Asked if you were working, and I told him I'd send you his way when you got back from your break." She replied, filling another ceramic, white mug. "Will you bus the tables while you're out there? Just whenever you get done."

You nodded, grabbing the rag and spray bottle before scanning the sitting area. There was only a few people lingering. It was a Thursday night. A pair of college students, hunched over their laptops and books, nursing their flat whites like it was a life line. An older woman reading a book by the window. And a scraggly looking man in a pair of coveralls, greased stained hands cupping the steaming white mug.

Mr. Munson.

The realization came over you in a wave that crashed and made your stomach drop. Why was he here? How did he even know where you worked? Oh, God, he was going to bitch you out for last night, you just knew it-

His gaze lifted, meeting yours. He didn't look mad. You stayed staring, eyes wide, until he gave you a small smile. Just barely lifting his upper lift in a way that most others would've missed.

You trudged the few feet towards his booth, knuckles white and gripping the cleaner. "H-Hi, Mr. Munson," You greeted, stomach flipping. "I, uh, can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm ok." He greeted cooly, pushing his curly bangs back with his hand. "I just- I wanted to thank you for getting Brielle home safe last night." He started, fingers tapping on the mug. "I didn't mean to be a dick or whatever, I just-" He took a deep breath in. "You go to say goodnight to your kid, and they're gone, and- I know you don't get it, you're too young. Maybe one day when you have kids of your own..." He shook his head, laughing softly. "I just... thanks. Thank you for bringing her home safe."

You blinked, surprised. You were expecting a bitching, a threat maybe, but not an apology. "It's really no problem, Mr. Munson." You said.

"Eddie." He corrected, a half smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and dimples deepen underneath the smattering of salt and pepper facial hair that covered them. Your eyes trained on his lips, plump and full as he ran his lower lips across the bottom one.

"I hope you don't think this is weird." Eddie motioned to the space between you. Your heart leapt. "Showing up here. I'm not- I asked Brie where you worked, because I just wanted to say thank you."

You nodded, returning the smile. "I, uh, I'm glad Brielle got home safe." You said, unsure of how to continue the conversation. "She's really sweet. Her and Maddy are really good friends."

Eddie nodded. "Yeah, they are. I'm glad." He paused. "That she has friends, ya know? Brie's always been real good at making friends. Real talkative." He grinned.

You blushed. You weren't sure why his gaze was making your cheeks heat, but you couldn't help it. "Yeah? Madeline's the same way. She'll talk to anyone. I wish I was that way sometime."

"Yeah, me too." Eddie looked down at his hands. You looked to. His fingers were calloused, bare. Your eyes lingered over the ring finger on his left hand, finding it absent of anything besides the small, faded ink etching on the knuckle.

"Listen, I, uh, I really feel bad for being such an asshole last night." Eddie started. "I'd really like to make it up to you." He paused, eyes searching your reaction. You watched him carefully, blinking as your heart hammered. "I'd like to treat you to dinner if you're free. Just to show my appreciation for keeping my girl safe."

Say no. You have to say no. This man is your little sister's friend’s dad. You can not go out with him, he's way too old for you to be doing that. Your mind raced, mouth running dry but your hands sweated, clammy around the plastic bottle you clutched in your hand.

"Um, I-I, sure." You blurted, heart stuttering in your chest so fast you thought it might stop. "Tomorrow? I don't have to work here. I mean, if you're free. I don't want to impose-"

"Tomorrow works." Eddie grinned.

"Great." You let the breath you were holding out, matching his smile. "Oh, um-" You turned, grabbing a napkin off the table behind you, fishing out a pen out of your apron. "I'll give you my number, and you can just let me know where to meet you-"

"C'mon, sweetheart," Eddie cooed, cocking his head to the side slightly. "I'll pick you up."

"You-You don't have to do that." Your cheeks flamed, shaking your head as you jotted down your number. You couldn't meet his gaze, sure your flush and nerves would be obvious.

"'Course I do." Eddie grinned. "I'm old school." He pocketed the napkin in his coverall pocket, shrugging on his utility jacket. "You have a good night. Don't work too hard now, ya hear?." He winked, jokingly. You let out a nervous laugh that spilled out of her chest, cheeks heating. Eddie smiled back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye." You waved, the rag in your hand flopping against your wrist. You watched him walk out the door, heart hammering as the glass doors closed behind him.

Tomorrow, you thought, turning on your heel to quickly wipe down the booth he was in.

#older!eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #older!dilf!eddie #older!eddie munson #older!dilf!eddie munson #dilf!eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #oneforthemunny #funsonmunson #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader

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allur1ngs · 5 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/allur1ngs/735793090480177152/this-is-mafiabada-coded-if-you-even-care

Ok but like imagine bada never knowing how to tie a tie bc her mom died before she could and y/n tying them for her😨PLZ I NEED IT BAE🫶🏾

omg i see the vision 💭

Bada's slim fingers fumble with the silky material of her tie awkwardly. She's been trying for about ten minutes to figure out how to properly fasten it, but no matter how hard she tries, she simply can't do it. She supposes this is her karma for letting herself get lazy and asking Lusher to tie all her ties without paying attention to how she does it. Now that Lusher and the rest of Bebe are gone for a rare day of rest, she's been left to her own devices.

She stares at herself in the mirror, trying to gauge how low she should let the larger side dangle and which side she's supposed to cross over the other first. She attempts two more times before she yanks the fabric off her neck, groaning loudly and pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance and frustration.

"Having some trouble there?" You poke your head out from behind Bada's bedroom door, having heard her audible frustration from outside.

Bada lifts her head, half of her annoyance washing away at the sight of you. "Some trouble would be an understatement," she sighs. "I need to have a word with whoever created ties. Why are they so complicated?"

You give Bada a lighthearted smile, amused by the way she sulks in front of her mirror, staring at the offending tie that's strewn across her bed. "You really don't know how to tie it?" Walking inside her room to pick it up, you stand in front of her before slinging the fabric across her shoulders and adjusting it against her neck.

"No," Bada admits, her voice quieting to a murmur. A beat of silence passes as she watches you expertly maneuver the fabric of the tie around like it's second nature. A small smile starts to form on her lips, enjoying the domestic and sweet atmosphere before her smile slightly fades. "My mother started to teach me when I turned fifteen. She said I should know so I could please my future husband."

"Oh," you whisper thoughtfully.

"When my mother passed, I asked my father to finish teaching me instead, but he refused to. He knew I didn't want to learn to impress a boy, but so I could do it for myself."

You loop the thinner end of the tie against the forming knot, eyebrows pinched together slightly as you start to concentrate. "How have you been tying them up until now, then?"

"Lusher usually ties them for me," Bada answers. "But what about you? How did you learn?"

"My mother," you nod, "she also insisted I know how so I could tie my father's tie, or my husband's."

"Our mothers thought the same way." Bada chuckles lightly. "I wonder what they'd think if they saw us now."

"I think my mother would swoon despite herself." You laugh.

"Perhaps so. But I think now I need to learn how to do this by myself." Bada looks down at your fingers, appearing deep in thought.

"No need." You smile brightly, tightening the knot and securing it against Bada's neck, the tie complete. "I can do it for you from now on. I should put my skill to good use."

Bada looks at her reflection, the tie you made is perfectly neat and not too tight—something she often complained to Lusher about. Beside her, you're standing beside her figure in the mirror, looking absolutely beautiful under the low light, and she just can't help herself.

Bada gently grabs you by the waist, moving you so that you're standing right in front of her. You're surprised by her sudden action but don't protest when she leans in and presses her soft lips against yours.

When she pulls away, she mutters a soft, "Thank you."

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

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fuxuannie · 11 months

Text

↳ pairing : miles morales x g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : (first part of) sfw alphabet with miles !!

↳ authors note : could contain astv spoilers ?? i think i'll do another alphabet w a spiderverse character soon when i finish this!! ive been working on a hobie fic but his british is killing me PLZ save me im SOBBING its being delayed just cause hes british thats crazy

— ❥ Affection - is he the affectionate type?

☆☆ I think Miles is really affectionate with his partner, holding hands and all of that. Tries to be a romantic (and fails sometimes cause hes far too silly for that) but he's doing his best!! Affection is definitely very important to him so :)

— ❥ BEGINNER - is he new 2 relationships?

☆☆ Definitely, you'd be his first love and so he tries his best with you. He'll make sure to take you out on good dates, meet your parents, make like thousands drawings of you in his sketchbook and just generally try to hide the nerves of being in a relationship. Of course, Miles isn't perfect, but you understand that and just accept him nevertheless.

— ❥ CUDDLING - does he like 2 cuddle ?? how does he like 2 cuddle :)) ??

☆☆ Cuddling is a need, it is a requirement. He will demand cuddling at least once every day just so he feels something in his cold and empty soul. (he's being sarcastic, please cuddle him hes so sad when you don't)

— ❥ Domestic - does he wanna settle some day ?? how good is he at household chores ??

☆☆ Miles is a teenager, that kind of thing has yet to cross his mind or atleast think of it super seriously. But he would love to move in with you at some point, make you breakfast in bed and stuff like that. He definitely used to help his mom when he was younger, just gives off the vibe :))

— ❥ Ending - how n why would he end things with you ??

☆☆ The only thing that would push Miles that far is for your own safety. When he dates someone, he doesn't wanna do it just because you two like each other, he dates to stay together and not for a fleeting feeling that'll come to pass. But it hurts him more to leave someone he still loves, but knows its for your safety <\3

— ❥ Fiance(e) - marriage? commitment?

☆☆ I mean, same reason with the letter D, he's a teenager so that thing doesn't really cross his mind. He does like to joke around that he'll propose to you with a bagel or something.. (uh oh)

— ❥ Gentle - is he gentle physically and emotionally ??

☆☆ He tries his best to be. He understands how a lot of things can be overwhelming and hard to understand, so whether you need his emotional or physical help he's always willing to give it. He'll give you words of affirmation or hold you till you feel better. :)

— ❥ Hugs - does he like em ?? does he hate em??

☆☆ Miles LOVES it when you hug him, especially when you initiate it first. He'll sometimes pick you up and do a little spin because it makes him that happy T_T♡ Please hug him, he needs it badly after everything

— ❥ I love you - how long did it take for him to say it ?? does he say it often ??

☆☆ Miles took his time when it came to finally saying 'I love you'. He wanted to make sure that he'd mean it, and will continue to mean it while you guys are together. When it comes to saying I love you, he wants it to be in appropriate times and places but he usually says it when hes sleepy and just has no filter at all.

— ❥ Jealousy - does he get jealous often ??

☆☆ Yes and Miles makes it very obvious. You find it amusing every time he'll pull you by your waist towards him so he can hold you by his side. He'll urge you to continue your conversation, but the person you're speaking to can tell he is one minor inconvenience away to picking you up and just running off. (he'll only ever act like this if the person has clear intentions that were NOT approved of by him)

— ❥ Kissing - does he like kissing ?? how does he like 2 kiss ??

☆☆ He does the upside down kiss at like any given moment while he's on patrol. HE LOVES DOING IT he thinks its the most silly thing ever and the way the first time he tried it, his web snapped and he fell before he could kiss is ENGRAVED in your memory. Of course, he'll enjoy smaller kisses like on the nose or on his forehead cause it makes him feel soso soft.

— ❥ Little Ones - is he good with kidz ?!

☆☆ HES AWFUL. have you seen the scene with him and Mayday?! He has never held a child a day in his life, he will call an infant baby 'bro' or something and try to take it skateboarding. He will try if you have younger siblings, it's like training to get into the family; if you can handle the little menaces you are welcomed <3.

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #atsv x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #atsv imagines #sfw alphabet #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #miles morales imagines

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harrysfolklore · 2 years

Note

Bestie could we plz have a blurb about the boydad idea you posted with Harry holding bub in front of the banner 🥺

i’m on a roll, you might say? anyways here’s another silly little blurb, i hope you enjoy it

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated ! | support me <3

BIGGEST ACCOMPLISHMENT

“Are you getting my best angles?” Harry jokingly told Lloyd, his photographer, as he snapped picture after picture of him in front of his brand new banner.

“HARRY STYLES. 15 CONSECUTIVE NIGHTS AT THE GARDEN”

That was what he achieved. No other artist or band had done that in the past, and he couldn’t have done it without the support of his fans, and most importantly, the support of his loving wife and perfect son.

The little family of three couldn’t be happier, specially Harry, having his little one year old boy with him on tour for the first time was something he always dreamed of, and he was grateful that his wife agreed to take him on the road with him.

“Hold on let me get my bubba, I want a few shots with him,” Harry spoke again, getting up from his position on the floor and walking towards his dressing room, he knew he would find his wife and baby there.

And there they were, wearing their very own Love On Tour customized hoodies and watching some cartoons on the dressing room’s leather couch. Harry couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his little boy dressed in a mini version of his merch and cuddling to his mom’s side, that sight alone reminded him of how lucky he was to have his perfect family.

“Do you mind if I take the bubba for a minute? I want some pictures with him in front of the banner,” Harry said while he approached the leather couch, squeezing next to his baby, and spreading his arm on the back of it so he could reach the nape of his wife’s neck and place his hand there, softly caressing it.

“Of course I don’t, honey. I was actually going to suggest the same thing,” her voice was so soft and tender, and Harry couldn’t help but grab the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss, because even though they’ve been together for ten years, married for five and one as parents, the woman in front of him still gave him butterflies like a teenager with a crush.

“Mmkay’ we’ll be right back,” he grabbed his baby in his arms and directed them towards where Lloyd was waiting for them, ready to keep snapping pictures “You’re going to take some pictures with daddy, bubba? You’re going to smile as big as you can for our friend Lloyd?” Harry cooed at his baby boy, who only put his little hands on his face, a habit that he had been picking up lately and Harry and his wife found absolutely adorable.

He crouched down on the floor again so Lloyd could go back to taking pictures, but this time, he placed his little boy on his lap, grabbing him by his sides and putting his face close to his, tickling him a bit so he could crack a smile “Come on baby, give the camera a big smile!” and the little boy managed to pull a little, almost toothless grin, making the picture the most adorable thing ever.

“I think we have enough shots, your baby is actually so photogenic, mate,” Lloyd told his boss and friend, as he showed him the pictures he snapped, his baby was in fact, the most photogenic baby ever.

“I know, he’s perfect,” his words were filled with adoration for the boy in his arms, a mixture of his wife and him, and a product of all the love they have for each other, “I love you, bubba,” he pecked his cheek multiple times. He might have just made history at the world’s most famous arena, but being a dad was still his biggest achievement.

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