#no ones gonna know hes irish until he talks

[ginger-thing]

"Spirit was like an actual animal. Attacking anyone in sight. If it wasn't for my buddy Wally, then I'm sure Howdy's throat would've been ripped out!" - Barnaby

[pullhisteeth]

hello, lovely! so so happy to see you writing again, you're really one of my fave writers here 🥹 if you want, would you mind writing a fluffy best friends to lovers one with eddie where he accidentally overhears nancy and robin talking about reader's feelings for him, and how the reader feels like she should just give up on her feelings towards eddie because it seems like a hopeless case lmao i'm sorry if it's too specific! ily ❤️

hi! I love you!!! I'm so sorry this took so long, I got stuck in the middle of it with no way out, so I scrapped it and started again. I hope you love it. thank you for the kindest message, you're a star xxx

contains some dubious eavesdropping and lots of fluff. somethin' suggestive towards the end but nothing huge. :-)

[3k (ish)]

-

“Hey, handsome.”

Eddie turns to the door. There you are, between the edge of it and the doorframe, socked feet on the step. You’ve got your hands behind your back and you want something.

He smiles at you softly and reaches his hand out without a word. He watches you return the smile and step down onto the porch and towards him. You lift your hand, take the lit cigarette from between his two fingers and lean on the post opposite him.

His eyes linger as you pull it between your lips and inhale, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks hollowing.

“You look nice today,” he tells you.

Your eyes open slowly as you turn your head to look at him. You bring the cigarette down and hold it out to him, twisting back towards the road to blow the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.

As he takes it from you, you say, “Thanks.”

“New top?”

You nod. “Mm-hmm.”

“‘S’pretty. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” you say through another smile. This one’s sly, coy, a wall because he’s complimented you twice and that’s at least one time too many for you. He likes the way he can see how your cheeks warm and how you shift your weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting to stop yourself swooning.

You watch cars go by and listen to the distant sound of Robin’s laugh inside the house, passing the cigarette between the two of you until it’s nothing more than a butt. Eddie throws it onto the gravel at the foot of the porch steps, being gracious enough to save the Wheelers’ nicely varnished wood from being ruined by ash and a filter, and does his best to stomp it out without shoes on.

“Your sock’s gonna get wet,” you tell him.

“‘S’okay,” he says, hopping back up onto the porch and swaying about until he reaches the front door. “C’mon. There’s a mean game of Irish snap waiting for us in there.”

You hum again, only this time it’s a sadder sound. He feels the skip of his heart and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“‘M’gonna stay out here a minute. Need some air.”

“Oh,” he breathes. He takes half a step back towards you. “Okay. You want company?”

You shake your head and it rips something within him. It aches. “I’ll only be a second.”

The ache yawns open somewhere in his chest but he surrenders, returning to the door and leaving it ajar for you as he goes back inside. His mind stays with you as he moves through the house, eyes on his feet and the damp spot on the side of his left sock.

He passes the stairs and as he rounds the corner, he stops dead at the sound of your name.

His ears perk up like an animal and he moves, without thinking, so his back is against the wall.

“-And I get why she feels like that, you know?”

Robin’s pacing. He hears the soft thump of her fluffy slippers each time she takes another step on the carpet.

“She just…” Nancy sighs. “Surely she should try to tell him?”

“Nance, c’mon. You’re, like, the smartest person I know.”

“I just…”

“Nance.”

“He’s just… They’re so close, there’s probably so much we don’t see.”

“She tells us everything.”

Eddie catches his breathing getting heavier and stops, holding it at the hilt with lungs full of air. His hands are splayed across the wall behind him and he’s leaning with all his might, willing the floorboards beneath his feet to stay quiet just for a few moments more. His ears strain because to his right, Steve, Argyle and Jonathan are having some kind of cruelly-timed debate about pizza crusts in the kitchen.

“We can’t know that,” Nancy says. Eddie thinks she sounds sad; he can hear her mouth turning down in the shape of her words, and her fingers are drumming across the glass-topped coffee table, her anxious tell.

“We’ve known her long enough. And we’ve known him long enough. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“She just seemed so sad. I wish she’d try.”

“It’s not worth it,” Robin tells her, words short and frank. Her repetitive footsteps stop. “Clearly.”

Nancy hums.

“He’s hopeless,” Robin continues. “She’s been pining after him for what? A year?”

“More than that,” Nancy says quietly.

“Exactly! She deserves to be happy, we want her to be happy. So she has to-”

“Move on,” Nancy offers.

“Right.”

“But… We see him all the time. He’s our friend.”

“I guess we just… Help her through it,” Robin says. “Get Steve to set her up or something. Surely we know someone who’s far removed enough from Eddie?”

The colour has drained from Eddie’s face, seeping down his body and through his damp socks and into the floor. The hands keeping him steady on the wall are rendered useless, because he can feel them clamming up and slipping down the tasteless wallpaper the Wheelers have covered their hallway in. He slowly pushes himself up to stand and his head spins, the gaudy florals on the walls blurring to crisp bursts of colour.

What the fuck?

What the fuck did he just listen to?

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have listened; it was a private conversation, a private conversation about you. And yet he can’t bring himself to move, ears trained solely on the now-quieter mumblings between Nancy and Robin about how to cheer you up, and…

Andy.

Eddie’s stomach turns at the four letters as he hears Robin say them, louder than she’d been before, bright like a lightbulb.

Andy.

He lives down the street from Nancy, in a big house with a wrap-around porch and a mailbox Eddie probably knocked over at some point in his early teens. He has a good car - better than Steve’s, even - and wears ugly, pasty polo-neck sweaters and pristine tennis shoes. He probably plays tennis, Eddie thinks.

He’s everything Eddie knows your parents would love. Hell, he’s heard you complain more times than you should ever have had to about the sly comments your mother makes, the garden parties and barbecues you’re dragged to on hot Saturdays with the sole purpose of setting the two of you up.

“She hates him,” Eddie hears Nancy tell Robin flatly, their voices hushed again but just loud enough for him to do exactly what he knows he should not be doing.

“But he’s interested,” Robin whines.

“Only ‘cause her parents try so hard. He’s awful, Rob.”

“At least he’d try! I bet he’d take her to Enzo’s if we asked him to.”

“Rob,” Nancy hisses. “You can’t be serious.”

Eddie thought his stomach had dropped out of him a while ago, at the first mention of your name, but he’d been wrong, because he gets that awful sinking feeling once more when he hears the front door close.

In the seconds that follow, everything happens both incredibly quickly and painfully slowly, the way a car crash does, or watching someone fall. You round the corner, footsteps softening as you tread over the rug. Nancy and Robin’s hushed voices stop. Steve throws something at the bin in the kitchen. He misses. Argyle and Jonathan shout. You look up from watching your feet, and your eyes find him, wide and unsure. Eddie dies.

Well, whatever he’s feeling is what he imagines dying is like. There’s a cacophony of sensations and emotions bursting from within his body: firstly, there’s nerves, taking the form of butterflies the way they always do when he looks at you. They’re followed by a wave, though, of shame and, later, dread. He shouldn’t be here. He thinks you have worked out that he shouldn’t be here. He can hear Robin’s slippers again, only they’re getting closer this time, and then she’s at the door, right by his left ear. He can’t tear his eyes off you.

She calls your name, once in a tone so soft Eddie’s surprised it came from her mouth, and then again, only more confused.

He sees her in his peripheral vision as she leans her head around the doorframe and finds him with his back against the wall. She gasps, a quiet, wobbly noise, and then Nancy’s there, too.

You’re still standing a few paces from him, damp socks on the rug, looking at him with an expression that he cannot read.

“Eddie?” you call and he wants to die, he seriously wants to die. The world should swallow him whole for this, spit him out in the pits of Tartarus, let Cerberus have his way with him.

“Oh, god,” he hears Nancy say slowly from her spot beside Robin.

“Eddie,” you say again. “What’s wrong?”

Your face has crumpled into something between concern and remorse. Something unspoken hangs in the stuffy air of the hallway, broken only by the sounds of trash can basketball happening in the next room.

“Uh,” Robin drones, “We’ll, uh… We’re just gonna-” She slides out of the room, past Eddie, pulling Nancy with her by the wrist. “We’ll be in here,” she says, more to you than to him, an unspoken declaration that says come find us if you need us, before disappearing into the kitchen and closing the door.

He’s still looking at you, and you’re still looking at him. You’re about as pale as he feels as he stands upright again.

“What happened?” you ask him.

“I, uh… Fuck,” he stumbles, squeezing his eyes shut and holding the top of his nose. He catches your wince at the curse and the aggravated edge it comes out with. “Uh… Nance and Rob, they were… They mentioned you, I might have… Overheard a couple things.”

He looks away from you as he admits this, that wave of shame more akin to a tsunami now. He’s an asshole. He shouldn’t have listened.

But he did.

“I don’t…” You’re fiddling, fingers winding around fingers, standing before him looking more lost than ever. He chances a glance at you and your face is twisted in confusion. And then it relaxes, mouth agape, as realisation dawns.

“Oh.”

Warmth crawls up your neck. It spreads like wildfire behind your ears, across your scalp, over your cheeks. Everything is hot, the room’s too small, the air’s too close; more than anything, Eddie is too close.

He watches you fidget. You step forward, and your face drops again, wincing like you’re standing too close to a flame, so you step back and turn, moving away from him quicker than he can process. His call of your name falls on deaf ears and ends just as the front door shuts again.

He hears the shuffling of many feet behind the kitchen door but ignores it, pushing himself off the wall and through the hallway. The space is like water, the pressure pushing him down, keeping him from the fresh air - and you.

When he wrenches the front door open he’s hit first with the smell of rain, that hollow, metallic scent. And then it mixes with something like sorrow, and he feels it burrow into his bones, a deep-set melancholy he wants so desperately to fix.

You’re sitting on the porch steps, your back to him, hunched over with your head in your hands. The way your shoulders move gives you away; Eddie’s at your side quicker than he can think to breathe, touching you before really checking that you want that from him right now. It doesn’t seem to matter; you lean into him like always. You hiccup and sniffle, face pressed into his t-shirt without thought, and his arm sits around your shoulder and his fingers press into your shoulder.

“I’m here,” he says, unsteady. “You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you say into his chest. You lean back and press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I didn’t… You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”

Eddie’s brain is working too quickly for him to keep up with, but he manages to tell you it’s okay. “I’m not mad,” he says, thumb pressing into your jaw, the pads of his fingers on your neck, checking you over.

“I’m mad,” you choke. There’s the hint of a laugh there and he can’t help but return it.

“That’s allowed,” he says. He’s surprising himself with how quickly he’s turned into something solid and reassuring. “Want a do-over?”

You look at him and he aches again, his nose burning. You’re flushed and your eyes are pinker than usual, and as his eyes dance over your lips he sees they’re wet from crying and ripe for kisses.

They twist into a smile and he decides that, for now, that’s better.

“Eddie,” you breathe, coy. You nudge him softly in the stomach with your elbow. “Fuck off.”

“What?” he laughs. “I can leave you out here, if you want. Maybe Andy will come save you from m-”

Your elbow hits his lowest rib this time, with far more force than before, and the gasp he pulls from you is almost comical.

“Eddie,” you hiss, “they did not-”

“Oh, Rob would set you up in a heartbeat.”

You groan and let your forehead fall to his shoulder. And it’s here, where he’s enveloped in the smell of rain and the feeling of you, that he feels something open in his chest, and he speaks before he can stop himself.

“He’s better than me, anyway,” he says quietly, fingers carding through the ends of your hair. “You’re too good for me. Some other boy would be better.”

“Other boys are boring,” you tell him, leaning back. Your voice is small and you can’t meet his eye but it’s the truth; he’s blind to it, apparently, but Eddie Munson is the only boy who has ever interested you. He is the only boy who listens, the only boy who sees you, the only boy you have any desire to know inside and out. You’re not sure you ever will know him completely, but if you spend the rest of your life trying, you’ll be happy doing it.

His fingers dance through the space between the two of you until they find yours, toying with the loose threads of denim at the frayed hem of your jeans. His bigger hand takes yours and you still can’t look him in the damn eye. You’d find a smile if you did, though.

He squeezes your hand and touches your chin lightly with the other, pressing the side of his index finger to the underneath of it to bring your face level with his own.

“Look at me,” he whispers. You obey, because it’s Eddie, and he’s so close and you can smell his uncle’s washing powder and the stubborn stain of pot and you love him.

“We could go for pizza,” he says, just as soft. “How’s Enzo’s?”

“You don’t have t’go fancy on me,” you whisper back. “I like Benny’s more.”

A grin splits his face and you match it, giggling.

“My girl likes burgers, huh?”

“Y’know I do,” you say, squeezing back. “Your girl?”

“Gotta take you on a date first,” he says. “Do it properly.”

“You’re startin’ to sound like a gentleman.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

Your breaths are one and the same by now, your mouths so close together that your vacant space has become his. Your eyes move between his eyes and his lips and you catch his doing the same, and there’s an ache somewhere between your legs that makes you pull your thighs together.

He dips his head just enough, thumb pushing into your chin to pull you closer. You let your eyes shut and feel his lips over yours, slow and distant, before you lean into him. He kisses you sweet, his hand smoothing over your jaw to hold your face like it’s made of gold, and he moves against you with certainty.

He’s determined and as his tongue meets yours you bend into it, relenting. It’s magic, just as you’d imagined all these years.

He releases your hand and grabs your waist in his firm grip. It starts to get slovenly, your hips against his thigh, his tongue everywhere, and your head’s starting to spin.

“You’re gettin’ ahead of yourself,” you say, panting, smiling, pulling back from him to look him in the eye again. He’s all browns, dark lashes and darker irises, never wavering from your sight. “Thought you had to take me on a date first.”

“You’re too pretty,” he says, kissing you gently at the corner of your mouth. His breath blooms across your skin as he speaks. “Got years of not kissin’ you to make up for.”

His fingers dig gently into your sides and you suck in a breath that’s half a giggle.

“Gotta get back at Rob and Nance,” you say as his mouth moves over your jaw and leaves a mark somewhere beneath your earlobe.

He hums and leans back, saying his goodbyes to your skin with one last peck to your cheek, just below your eye.

“I think we owe them,” he says. “I do, anyway. Was never gonna get my ass in gear. Coulda lost you to Andy.”

“Never,” you say without a beat.

“Never,” he says back.

-

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

The podcast episode

jack hughes x youtuber!reader

note: yes brittany broski talking about the irish man completely inspired this.

As soon as the girl settles in her seat, her camera on, microphone on, and headphones on, she presses the emergency alarm button on her soundboard.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Attention all L/N Nation residents! We have a code red. Open your handbooks to page 226 and look up what a code red is, if you don’t already know! Now in the event of a code red, whatever I say is to never leave the walls of L/N Nation.”

Taking a sip of her water after her yelling, she readjusts her laptop on her lap as she moves around in her seat before continuing, “As you know vice president and bestie, Samantha came from Toronto to Michigan to visit me. And one thing about Sam, is she’s gonna party. So we went to a bar.. And I met someone.. Ahhh! A man. Ahhh!”

Taking a brief pause, Y/n collects herself, comically adjusting her collar and tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Now. I don’t want to give too much away, or spread his life all over my socials. And with that being said, let me tell you everything about him.” The girl said jokingly.

“As we know, I have been looking for an athlete in my life, and I have found one. A hockey player, all those hockey romances you guys have made me read have finally paid off. And I have only dated one man in my life. And I just have to say, talking to a straight man is just like- obviously it’s different from dating a woman, duh dude! But also just being a straight man’s first queer girl he’s like talked to is really a kind of crazy thing. ‘Cause like- and the one man I have dated in my life was also bisexual, so this guy is the first straight guy I've talked to, and the way they operate is so different. Not in an inherently bad way, by any means... I don’t think I should talk anymore..”

“I’m like- I’ve told this guy I do this-” She gestures to the room, as well as the camera, “-as my job, and he knows my first and last name, so he or his friends 100% will see this, one way or another. And maybe I just say that because any person I talk to I stalk everything that has ever been posted with them. Now, let's move on before I scare him away and I don’t get my wag life fantasy.”

The girl wouldn’t know until about a little over a year later, laying in bed with said boy, that he did in fact watch that podcast episode when it aired.

That it didn’t scare him off, in fact it made him like her even more. That it was that podcast episode, seeing the girl blush when she was talking about him, was the reason he asked her out for the first time.

~taglist~

@inejghafawifesblog @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @jackquinnswife

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Our Lost Girl, Our Babydoll - Part 2

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O

Summary: A bookshop and a spilled coffee leads you to Clint. He leads you to Natasha, and you lead them both to your best friend Darcy. They try to introduce you to Bucky and Steve but you're full of excuses and Irish goodbyes. Until Bucky catches your scent on Natasha and he's sliding in your DM's and offering to help pack up Darcy's apartment. Steve wants to give their bookworm the world and your Irish goodbyes won't slip passed him, because his eyes never leave you. But what's giving you the lost look in your eyes?

Chapter Summary: Why is the reader late? And what is girl talk?

Bucky and Steve scrambled, knocking into each other as they tried to get to the door first. The noise alerted the others to the scuffling.

“It’s the coffees you idiots.” Natasha called from the now open door. "You would have smelt if it was her."

Clint sniggered as he went to help Nat, passing out the coffees as he returned.

“You know I thought it was just Clint that went to clown school.” Sassed Sam.

“Hahahahaha.” Bucky replied dryly.

“Oh leave them, it’s sweet how excited they are.” Came Maria’s reply.

“See.” Steve said looking at Bucky knowingly.

“She said sweet, not cute.” Bucky grumbled, as he perched on Darcy’s couch, pulling a danish from the bag that had been placed on the coffee table. Sam went to deliver another quip but Steve shook his head, noticing Bucky’s sulking.

“Don’t worry Yasha, she’ll be here soon.” Nat added, glancing at her phone. Darcy glanced over to look and then showed Nat something on her phone.

“To be fair it’s not like her to be late. Is she OK?” Maria asked.

Before there was chance to answer Steve and Bucky jumped to their feet, startling the others and started to dust themselves free of crumbs. Steve searched his pockets for a mint, wanting to avoid coffee breath and Bucky ran his fingers through his hair. Darcy decided to take the opportunity to tease them.

“You ok their fellas or did my best friend just walk up the street?”

There was laughter around the room as Nat stood, grabbing your Strawberry Frappe, a danish and a napkin.

“Wait, where are you going?” Asked Steve.

“Girl talk. Stay.” Replied Natasha, exchanging a quick glance with Maria, who nodded quickly.

“We aren’t dogs.” Grumbled Bucky.

“No, you’re over excited alphas.” She replied, pulling Darcy through the door and closing it quickly.

Bucky huffed and threw himself onto the sofa dramatically. The group tried to stifle their laughter. Clint struggled the most and let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, I know, I know, I’m over excited blah blah blah.” Complained Bucky.

“That’s not why I’m laughing actually, Nat was worse than you. She changed outfits four times, brought three different bouquets of flowers and ordered six different blankets. Y/N had to tell her to and I quote ‘calm the fuck down, you look like you’re about to hump her’. To be fair Darcy looked hot. I struggled and I just had my beta urges to contend with.”

“Yeah but at least you got a date, all we’ve got is avoidance.” Grumbled Bucky, “Steve stop staring at the door, she’s not gonna magic through it.”

Steve was now the one to huff.

“What exactly is ‘girl talk’ anyway?” He asked, as they all turned to look at Maria.

As you neared Darcy’s building you got a whiff of Steve, closely followed by what you now knew to be Bucky. You saw the main door to the apartment open and panicked for a second, worried it was them. Realising their scents were still a bit of a distance away you sniffed and got a whiff of your best friend and soon to be mate, spotting them both soon after.

You quickly brushed the tears from your face and took a deep breath. Time for the ‘I’m fine’ face.

“Heyyyyy, it’s moving day! I’m so sorry I’m late, my appointment ran over, I’m here now and I have everything” you kept your voice light, tapping your bag. Darcy barrelled into you, hugging you tightly.

“Why were you at the doctors?”

“What, errrr I wasn’t, it was an eyebrow appointment.”

Darcy pushed your hair away to look at your eyebrows and shook her head disappointingly.

“When did we start lying to each other?”

“Fuck” you muttered, “how’d you know?”

“First, we went three days ago to get them done together, remember, AND Natasha tracked your phone.”

“For fuck sake Romanoff!!!” You snapped as you shot a look at her, as she hovered a few steps behind Darcy.

“I have a danish and your awful pink drink.” Nat replied, holding them out.

You side stepped Darcy and grabbed your drink and danish from Nat’s hands, letting out a huff as you sat on the building steps.

Darcy quietly followed and sat beside you, brushing your hair away from your face again, this time spotting the tear marks on your cheeks. Nat sat a few steps back, observing you both.

“I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. It was a checkup.”

“On a Saturday?”

“Specialist clinic, runs twice a month, this was the only slot, I’ve been waiting three months. I’m sorry I was late, they were running behind and then I couldn’t get an Uber and then there’s an accident a few blocks down, I walked the rest, I’m sorry.” You went to stand but Darcy grabbed at you.

“What’s going on?”

“Darcy this is your day, you don’t need to hear my bullshit.”

“Yes, I do, you always hear my crap and I wanna hear yours. What is it? Is it your suppressants? Shit, is it suppressants sickness?”

You sighed.

“A little, my body it’s, well it’s not exactly happy about being on them so long and”

“And?”

“And…… I want a baby."

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

Tag list

@shellybellysstuff

[jewish-vents]

I, like too many of us, lost my entire friend group a couple months ago and I'm in a really fucking bad mood about it right now.

The literal leader of the whole group was Arab. I won't say from where, but not Palestine, he would have said so, but he told me where he is from. Several tragedies occurred in the world before 10-7, and in the group chat we broke from our usual unspoken commitment to not discussing politics to give statements of sorrow for the victims. The Irish nationalist never missed a chance to anyway. Then 10-7 did happen and I thought ah, this time I will lead this sharing of communal grief for the brutality of prejudice... but then I thought better of it. I said nothing. No one else did either.

I think the second he found out I was Jewish it was already over. He just came at me one evening and accused me point blank of being a Zionist. I tried to hold my ground and tell him that that is one thing I refuse to discuss with anybody, and he wouldn't take that as an answer, and I just stopped answering his texts until he stopped.

We didn't talk again after, not that we very much did before. I wanted it to just blow over, wait for him to cool off and realize he went way too far, maybe even apologize, but that never happened. I hoped, but I already saw the writing on the wall. Things mostly went back to normal, until he came at me again. Accusing me again. I defended myself again but he really wouldn't have it this time. He used every trick in the book, saying he has family at risk of dying and i don't (because they died during the shoah. as if he's not american too), saying that he was obligated to remove me unless i could prove I wasn't a "threat" in his words. I tried to placate but I knew this was it. He's already made up his mind. He told me that he "has Jewish friends", tokens and Good Jews I'm certain.

Im certain I'm the only Jew hes ever met who didnt roll over for him. I know he wanted me to denounce israel, my homeland, my people. Not that he'd believe me. I told him that I'm on the side of peace, that i detest violence and suffering, and he accused me supporting the "genocide of his people". he's literally afraid of pan-arab replacement

i will never trust goyim again. i will always be afraid. too many times in my fucking life have i done nothing fucking wrong and been punished, ostracized and abandoned.

ordinarily I'd be afraid that he or the rest of my traitor fucking neonazi ex-friends would see this but so what? theyve already blocked me. if theyve seen this blog, they've probably blocked it. and so what if they see it, you gonna tell all your friends about the threatening zionist you excised from your midst? gonna tell your friends about what a heroic little martyr you are, protecting your friends from that fucking jew?

you were a silverfish in your past life and I would i eat you again, centipede that i am.

.

[simplyzeke7372]

I feel like not nearly enough people talk about (in my humble and very easy to be wrong opinion) one of the BEST Miguel O'Haras around.

MY BOY FROM THE GAME SPIDER-MAN EDGE OF TIME. This game served as a loosely connected sequel to another Beenox Spider-Man game, Shattered Dimensions which as far as I know is essentially the OG Spiderverse event. For anyone who isn't very aware of Miguel outside of Across The Spiderverse, Miguel O'Hara is a irish-mexican man in the year of 2099, he works at the super corporation Alchemax and got his powers after trying to reset his DNA when his boss (also his secret dad if I recall) drugged him with Rapture and another employee tried to kill him by sabotaging the machine that he was using. Rapture being a future drug that bonds to your DNA, the reason he was drugged was because he was trying to quit over inhumane experimentation.

If you wanna know more, you can look it up. I'm here to talk specifically Edge of Time, the game opens Miguel up extremely well. His first words in the game (that are technically chronological) are as follows

"I keep trying to tell myself I'm just jealous of Walker Sloan's progress. It was only 5 years ago that he first showed up at Alchemax, talking about harnessing energy from the fourth dimension. Now he won't stop until he's running the place. I know his type, he's thinking beyond Alchemax, aiming towards who knows what? He's the exact type of corporate monster I've sworn to rein in. Especially if he's mucking with time travel, the year 2099 might not be much, but it's all mine. And he's not gonna change it."

This sets Miguel up extremely well, he isn't like Peter where he's all quips and jokes, he's a fun guy and joker when he's MIGUEL, but he's a lot more serious when he's Spider-Manning...usually. His aim is also far more big than Peter's usual deal, Alchemax is like his sworn enemy, they're the kind of company who see purely in statistics and how they can get what they want. As an Alchemax employee himself it has a very fun contrast of Miguel O'Hara being an employee but Spider-Man is against them. 2099 is...a very bad time, there's cannibalistic gangs with super powers or super tech, every issue we have now is amplified. But Miguel sees it as HIS home, one that he has to save.

The game then goes along with him breaking into Alchemax and following Walker Slone through the building, listening to dialogue and evil plans the whole nine yards. It becomes a race against the figurative clock (there isn't a time limit for the player but whatever) as he hears the time portal is activating, Walker really is about to go back and make Alchemax in his image years before it was founded and eliminate any and all competition with both it and his 2099 knowledge. Miguel arrives just in time to see him go through, but not stop him, diving in after him the webbed hero is seemingly ensared by the timeline itself as strange tendrils made of the portal's energy hold him in a state of limbo. Seeing the future...of the past that is, of Peter Parker's death at the hands of Anti-Venom (who's his own whole thing I'll get into someday maybe.)

Ejected from the portal as time itself reshapes and his whole world and history is altered, Miguel is left unaffected presumably because of his diving into the portal. We then see how Peter's life changes as well, first he's at the Daily Bugle talking to MJ on the phone when the timeline shifts and he's an employee at Alchemax explaining he has to work with Otto Octavius in the DNA lab and can't go out to eat with her, and that he's also given some of his DNA to the database. (Miguel uses this to somehow make a time transcending psychic link between them which allows them to communicate in real time at their two different points in the timeline)

I'll try not to just recount the entire game from here on, but as Miguel achieves contact with Peter he tries to explain how he saw him die on the sixty sixth floor and how he wants him to stay away from it (also filling him in on what's happened, which makes the connection to Shattered Dimensions as he remembers Miguel seemingly as well as the other Peters). But Peter instead insists that if a killer is running around he has to stop them. Miguel, as almost anyone would, thinks Peter is a fuckin idiot for this but can't stop him so he just makes sure to constantly remind him how he feels about it.

Miguel through the entire game is essentially always focusing on the endgame, getting Peter out alive and beating Slone to save their timeline. So much so that once Anti-Venom, Doc Ock and Slone get merged into one hideous abomination and Peter asks him to save MJ as he learns she dies in Alchemax (both Miguel and Peter swapped times for Miguel to save Peter). He reacts how you'd expect, not dismissing her life but instead cites all the other things he's juggling, security and drones, a time powered symbiote abomination and trying to get them back to their proper places.

"Fine! I'm a nosy Parker! But now that I've found out it's-"

"What? It's my job to save her? I've got enough to deal with!"

"You can't mean that! You can't just ignore that she's in danger."

"Hey, I'm trying to focus on what's important"

"What's important is NOT standing by and allowing someone to suffer or die because you do nothing! If you don't get that then you don't get the first thing about being Spider-Man."

"You're the one that doesn't get it Parker, the future depends on-"

"My future is meaningless without her!"

.

.

.

"This is gonna be a huge mistake."

"I owe you Miguel...big time."

"Shockin' right you do! But...maybe this'll help even the score for everything the world owes you."

"Thank you...I mean that."

Even though Miguel thinks he shouldn't waste the precious time they have by saving one person and risking their timeline, he does it because of Peter. Fighting through hordes of Alchemax security and time portal emerging symbiote doc ock arms until he goes into freefall to save MJ from the elevator she was in falling. He goes against his personal beliefs of the timeline matters more to save someone, because at the end of the day, with Peter in his mind talking to him Miguel simply can't just let her die because it wouldn't be right. The game was also at minimum co-written by someone who worked on the original run of Miguel's comics so that was cool.

[darlingsfandom]

Heyyy lovely!! Love all your work 💕💕

How about a story of dark!Cillian falling in love with his very young costar on the new Chris Nolan movie, but she has a boyfriend and never showed any interest. In an after party, he finally decides to confess and when she rejects him he really doesn’t take him well.

I’ll leave the ending to you!! <3

Hi honey bun!! Thank you so much💕💕 you’re so sweet!

tw: swearing, choking, mentions of creepy behavior

It’s been three months since you’ve wrapped up filming and the press tour has been amazing! You’ve been to places new and far since you were from a small town where everyone knew everyone’s business and you were one of the few who didn’t have a baby before graduating. You always tried your hardest which is how you landed the role of a lifetime in a Christopher Nolan movie!

“Earth to Y/N!” The thick Irish accent pulled you out of your daze. You looked up to see your co-Star / leading man Cillian Murphy standing there waving his hand in your face with a chuckle.

“Oh hi!” You perked up.

“Are ya ready? They’re ready fer us!” He put out his arm and you wrapped yours around his as he escorted you into the interview. You had a smile on your face as he held you while you got into your seat and then he got into his own. The interview started the same as the rest, the interviewer was excited to meet the both of you! Big fan! Asked a couple questions that applied to both of you but when it came to the single questions there was one that apparently everyone wanted to know…

“So rumors are that you two … are a couple?” The interviewer raised their eyebrow while you quickly looked away before a small giggle left your lips

“Cillian and I … a couple? No no, he’s super sweet and cute but I have a boyfriend!” Both Cillian and the interviewer looked at you in surprise

“How longe have ya had a boyfriend ?” Cillian asked dragging his hand over his face trying to hold it together .

“Just a few months! We met at the audition for the movie actually… he tried out for Robert’s part actually, he ended up being an extra .” You shrugged a little before you heard Cillian sigh.

“I think you just broke so many hearts with one sentence!” You laughed a little before you noticed how Cillian was gripping the arm of his chair. It was strange how he was acting because you’ve never seen this side of him. The interview went on for another twenty minutes before it ended.

When you left the room you felt someone following close behind you as you walked into the bathroom. It was uncomfortable. You opened the door only for the sound of it locking to fill your ears.

“Oh for Christ sakes!” You blurted out when you seen Cillian appear. You grabbed your chest and let out a small chuckle before clearing your throat.

“Since when were ya gonna tell me bout yer little boyfriend?” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Didn’t think that really concerned you Cillian.”

“Of course it does!” He stepped closer to you until your back was against the wall. His breath was hot against your lips as you looked anywhere else but at him until he suddenly grabbed your face and you look him in the eye. “Everythin ya do is me business ya know why?” You shook your head as his grip tightened.

“You are MINE!” He said through gritted teeth. Before you could say anything he was gone. You stood there baffled. There was no way that had happened.

As the press tour continued you noticed Cillian getting closer to you. He would hold your hand, help you into your seats, brush your shoulders, give you extra attention. He followed you like a lost puppy, would ask you who you were texting or talking to, it was a little overwhelming. Finally the actual premier happened and everyone was there including your boyfriend who stayed by your side most of the night. The after party was nice. You mingled with with some of the other co-stars, gave Christopher a hug and lots of “thank yous” for even casting you.

“You really should be thanking Cillian, he begged me to hire you. It came down between you and another girl and he picked you!” Christopher held his glass in his hand as he told you the news. Your eyes went wide but you nodded along before he got stolen away. You sipped your wine before setting it down and walking away to find your boyfriend but along the way you bumped into Cillian.

“Having fun?” He asked pointing his glass at you.

“Yeah umm I just found out that you begged for me to be in this movie ?”

“I wouldn’t say begged but yes.” He set his glass down before grabbing your hand and pulling away from the party down a dark hall. You stood across from Cillian as he cupped your check. “I told you months ago honey that you’re mine. Ever since your audition I knew you were mine!” His thumb stroked your cheek. “You’re an angel, my little angel. You always do what I’ve told ya. Tat little boyfriend of yours… useless! He can’t give ya what I can. You are mine!” He squeezed your face in his hands making you whimper before he kissed you hard. You instantly pushed him off and groaned while running away leaving him fuming !

You ran back to the party as fast as you could. You bumped into Robert making him chuckle.

“Sorry Robert!” You looked over your shoulder as he rubbed your arm.

“You alright? Seem a bit on edge .” He asked.

“Yeah yeah fine, just a bit overwhelming first after party and all.” You smiled nervously. He gave you a side hug before a little pat on the back. You nodded and walked away before finding your boyfriend.

“What the fuck?” You whispered yelled as you grabbed your boyfriend’s arm.

“What?” He asked yanking his arm back.

“Why were you making out with her? Here?? Now! You’re my boyfriend !” All he did was shrug. You huffed. He watched as you stood there about to cry.

“Fuck you!” You gave him a slap across the face and quickly disappeared. You found yourself back in the hallway that Cillian had confessed to you about everything. You paced back in forth grabbing your chest as the tears fell down your cheeks. How could he do that ? Why was he so causal about it ?? Has he been cheating on you this whole time ? Did he actually like you?!

“Why are you crying?” The Irish accent captured your ears making your skin crawl,

“Stay away from me!” You stomped your foot making Cillian chuckle.

“Cute, real cute! It’s even cuter that little boyfriend of yours was busy kissin another while bein in ya same room as ya.” He leaned against the wall as you stood there with tear stained cheeks and balled up fists.

“Did you put him up to this because that’s really fucking sick if you did!” You pointed your finger at Cillian as he approached you.

“You just don’t listen! YOU ARE MINE! That dumb ass fucked it up himself.” His hands grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the wall. “You’ve been mine and will always be mine! The less you fight it , the easier your life is going to be. Get tat through yer pretty little head!” He poked you in the forehead making you furrow your eyebrows. “I can give ya everything ya want and more! Make sure ya never go broke or lonely.” Cillian pressed his forehead against yours.

“Tell me one thing Cillian …. Was it you? The one who sent all the flowers, the love notes, the small gifts while we were on set?” Your voice was soft and sad as he pressed his body into yours.

“It’s been me doll, it’s always been me! Yer me girl!”

“So those dirty notes and socks….”

“All me ! And I meant every word in those notes! Let me protect ya! Let me give ya everything! Ya can’t deny your feelings for me!” Cillian held your throat in his hand as he squeezed tightly making you gasp. “And if I can’t have ya then no one will! So what do ya say doll?” Your face turned red as he applied more pressure making your eyes water.

“Cillian! “ you dug your nails into his skin making him hiss. “Can’t breathe , can’t answer !” He let go of you and let you drop to your knees which is where you belonged in his mind. You gasped softly as you held onto his leg. “I’ll be your girl! I’ve just been so blind to see how much you really care about me.” Cillian grabbed you, pulled you to your feet and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Mine! Forever .” He whispered in your ear giving you chills. If you wanted to stay safe your best bet was to be his girl after all.

[elisfashionn]

𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : bobby skeetz x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Your brother is Ryan Mcmahon, drummer of the upcoming band Inhaler. What happens when you sneak around with the Irish bassist…

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : cigarettes and alcohol (oasis).

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I was awoken to a knock at my bedroom door. Not long after the knock appeared my brother Ryan.

“Get up, we need to leave soon.”

“Do i have to come with you?”

“Yes. You promised me last week that you’d come to the show”

“That was last week. I’ve changed my mind”

“No. You’re coming”

And with that Ryan closed my door in annoyance which led me to groan knowing i had to stick to my word of leaving the house tonight.

It wasn’t long before i hopped in the shower getting ready for the day. Frank Ocean blasted through the speaker on the counter as i washed my hair. When all of a sudden i got a text message. I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my body checking my phone to see who interrupted me.

Bobby - Bobert 🤘

You - Y/N🖕

Bobert 🤘

You coming to the gig tonite? x

Y/N 🖕

Unfortunately. I promised Ryan i’d come to this one x

Bobert 🤘

Um excuse me this isn’t an unfortunately moment. x

Y/N 🖕

It is when i’m gonna be stuck with 4 boys and one of them tries to convince others to play bird bingo for an hour. x

Bobert 🤘

I wonder who that could be cause it isn’t me. Maybe Josh? We should really have a word with him about that cause that’s out of order x

Y/N 🖕

Whatever helps you sleep at night babes x

Bobert 🤘

Babes? Okay Babes. Let’s have a talk Babes. x

Y/N 🖕

Bye. Gotta get ready see you soon. x

Bobert 🤘

See you soon babes x

I didn’t realise I was smiling at my phone until the last message. I’d say Bobby and I have a close relationship. I’ve known him for a while and i’ve always had a crush on him. I mean who couldn’t. He’s 6ft with a mullet and plays bass in a band. And also my brother’s bestfriend and bandmate but we all have a secrets don’t we. I walked into my bedroom and shut my phone throwing it onto my bed getting ready for the night ahead of me. I threw on a black midi dress that flowed in the wind at the bottom and paired with my fur jacket, black boots and black bag and topped it off with jewellery. I then started applying the finishing touches to my makeup before Ryan called up saying that we are leaving in 5. I opened my bag and threw in my packet of cigarettes, a small bottle of alcohol, charger, lip liner and lip stick and other necessities i’ll need for the night before quickly making my way downstairs.

liked by ryanmcmahon_15, elijahhewson and 1,300 others

y/nusername : dressing up > down

📷 : ryanmcmahon_15

ryanmcmahon_15 : finally got photo credits for once.

➥ y/nusername : be grateful

user : where is the jacket from?

➥ y/nusername : it’s thrifted x

bobbyskeetz : this jacket looks like a bird meaning you have to bird bingo.

➥ y/nusername : … can i not get a nice compliment without it including birds.

➥ bobbyskeetz : no sorry xxxxx

bobbyskeetz : 😫🖕

➥ y/nusername : no. damage is already done 💔

user : UR HOT.

➥ bobbyskeetz : thanks x

➥ y/nusername : fuck off.

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We arrived at the venue and entered through the back door. There were a group already queuing even though it was only 2pm. It was so crazy to me how people would spend their whole day waiting in a queue for a show that will only go on for a few hours (i am guilty of this). They all screamed when they saw Ryan enter the venue which i still need to get used to. We get led into the green room which was already filled with the other 3 irish lads.

It wasn’t long before Ryan announced our presence ‘Hey! We made it’

‘Hey guys!’ Eli stood up and started hugging the both of us followed Josh and Bobby.

Bobby’s hug lasted a little longer than i wanted it to but at the same time i could stay with him forever. He’s such an easy person to be around. You could either talk for hours upon hours about random ass shit. You could tell him about girl drama and he would make small comments like ‘She’s a Bitch’ or You could both sit in the same room together in comfortable silence. You’ve never gotten on with anyone so well in your life. It was relaxing to know that someone understood you in that way.

‘We have soundcheck in about 2 hours so if anyone’s up for a round of bird-‘

‘Bobby… Don’t even mention the words Bird or Bingo today please’ He just laughed at my comment sitting down on the velvet couch placed in the middle of the room. He patted the seat next to him inviting me to sit down beside him which is happily accepted. The other boys were talking about god knows what when suddenly Bobby leaned over and spoke so only I could hear ‘Are you looking forward for tonight… babes’ I lightly slapped his arm telling him to behave. ‘You know i really was up for it until i remembered you were in the band again. What happened to them finding a new bass player?’ ‘You should be grateful i’m stuck to bass, I was gonna be the lead’ ‘Now you say it i am grateful you’d do anything but sing.’

‘Hey guys are going to go get food you coming with?’ Josh stood up and asked the both of us

‘No we’re good’ I looked at Bobby because i was really hungry and wanted food but i knew if id asked ryan he’d get me something ‘I’ll stay here, Can you get me something Ryan?’ ‘Yeah course, be back in an hour’

And with that the other boys left and it was just Bobby and I. Earlier I mentioned how it was always a comfortable silence with Bobby however this silence felt different. It felt like there was something needed to be said or something needing to happen. And I feel like he sensed the same. He looked over at me opening his mouth like he was going to say something. That was until I looked over in his direction. He shut his mouth and looked the other way scratching the back of his neck. Strange.

We sat on our phones for about 5 minutes until I broke the silence.

‘Bird bingo?’ ‘I thought you’d never ask!’ I rolled my eyes but there was really nothing else to do.

Both of us sat either side of the small coffee table places on the floor as he set up the game. I sat opposite him waiting for him to finish. ‘Let’s make this game different’ He looked up and hummed in response confused. ‘Let’s do some forfeits, everytime one of us loose a round we do something the other person wants’ in reply he just smirked at me laughing a bit. ‘Don’t smirk at me Robert I’m winning’ ‘We’ll see’

With that the first round started. It started off with shots being taken to us telling eachother random secrets and doing a small Q&A. It didn’t take long for it to get more heated and serious. ‘Next one i win…’ he lent in a bit till i could feel his breath. ‘We kiss’. ‘Okay’ i just smiled not knowing what else to say in response. I really wanted to but Ryan would be so pissed off if he knew.

And he won that round. That’s how it all started a silly game of bird bingo. That night when no one else was around we couldn’t keep our hands off of eachother sharing kisses whenever we could and having small makeout sessions in secret places. The boys were performing on stage and Bobby couldn’t take his eyes off of me when all of a sudden ‘Who’s your money on (plastic house)’ started playing.

‘Who’s your money on Dublin?’ Eli announced to the crowd as they started yelling out names of the band. I looked over at Bobby and i saw him mouth to me ‘Who’s your money on??’ I yelled ‘BOBBY!’ which caused him to laugh and walk towards Ryan at the back who was playing the drums. I took my phone out and started recording them for a little bit of the ending since this was one of my favourite Inhaler songs. It wasn’t long until the show ended and i was making my way back towards the green room when all of a sudden i got pulled through a door outside by the tour buses. Bobby stood there with the same look on his face he’s had all night pulling out a cigarette lighting it and then holding it out to me. ‘I don’t want this to be a one night thing’ he said taking a puff and blowing it out making deep eye contact with me. ‘Neither’ I said taking the cigarette back into my lips this time he was holding it which led him to pull me against him as we smoked together. We both stood in silence until it was stumped out sharing a quick kiss which tasted nicotine before heading back inside before the fans started coming out or even one of the others.

liked by bobbyskeetz, graciebrns and 4,829 others

y/nusername : who the feck are inhaler? (and if anyone can tell me who this man is staring at me lmk so i can block him xx)

user : who are inhaler?

➥ y/nusername : idk. u tell me x

bobbyskeetz : that might be me? i’m not sure though. just a thought.

➥ y/nusername : yeah it doesn’t look like you x

user : damn 2 pics of bobby we are being fed.

➥ user : and im eating them all up

elijahhewson : the best band ever

➥ y/nusername : dream on.

graciebrns : my wife

➥ bobbyskeetz : back off shes mine.

➥ y/nusername : bobby.

➥ ryanmcmahon_15 : what.

➥ bobbyskeetz : oops.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Now here we are. Bobby and I secretly dating. Ever since that night we’ve been inseparable. Ryan has been questioning why i’ve wanted to come to the shows so much now recently or why i always want to be around him and boys but he couldn’t know. You recently moved into your own apartment in Dublin still close enough to Ryan but also further enough to feel like you have your own space. Bobby has been round all the time even sleeping over. We’ve had a few close calls but now it’s just our little secret.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Author : This one is a little bit better but still bad. Gimme prompts 🙏🙏 (with anyone, if ik who they r) - Matilda xx

[iconsumethesoulsofthedamned]

Y’all need to stop whitewashing Miguel O’Hara but y’all also need to stop turning him into Spanish settings buzz lightyear ok.

I, a half Hispanic teen sat in the theater with my best friend and got so excited when they said that he loves empanada’s and when he and miles talked in Spanish for a second. I previous to Miguel O’Hara have never seen a mixed Irish white and Hispanic character. Just period.

I was so so unbelievably excited to have a character who was like me. This is why representation is so damn important I have never had that until now.He has an extremely similar face shape to me and I got so excited when I realized it I made a side by side of us to show it and sent it to all my friends I was over the moon. I have been self conscious ab my lips since I was little bc I feel like they are ‘too big’ and ‘too feminine’ but his lips look like mine and for the first time in forever I don’t feel self conscious ab them at all. I’m gonna be him for Halloween. And there are some people (98% of y/n writers) who are fucking him up.

A very cool and very correct poc made a post ab how they, as a black person experience racism in this fandom whenever they want to find Hobie content and all there is is people constantly over sexualizing him bc he’s black and tall (their post here) and they are right and it sucks. And people are doing the same damn thing to Miguel and it needs to fucking stop. If you don’t know how to write Spanish dialogue but you want to use it FUCKING ASK SOMEONE WHO CAN SPEAK IT FOR HELP. Stop turning him into this creepy severely over sexualized predatory super romantic guy who speaks in nothing but cookie cutter smut dialogue and google translate Spanish. He is a depressed dad with a dead daughter and a shit ton of pressure and it’s ok to have fantasies but not when the fantasies are clearly racist fetishization.

(also this is not ab people saying he’s sexy he is he has a fat ass no one is denying you that what I am denying you is making him a racist stereotype fetish)

last but not least if you are gonna draw a character with dark skin then draw them with dark skin it isn’t that hard and if you’re like ‘Nono I can only draw skinny white people’ then you can’t draw Miguel O’Hara fuck off.

@Violettfae

[finanmoghra]

Charming Irishman

pairing modern!Finan x reader

summary an irish pub opens in front of your flower shop, and you can't resist that charming irish who owns it.

warnings smut, finan in general

word count 4.1k

gif credit

a/n guys english isn't my first language and i've never wrote smut in eng, so forgive me for any mistakes, i tried my best. also i suck with small talk so maybe things will happen "fast"

-

It's a typical thursday at Winchester, you are heading your way to your flower shop as you always do in the mornings. That street is so habitual to you by now, the tiny coffee shop, the record store, the stationery shop, and oh, that irish pub of course. That place used to be a lot of stuff until 4 months ago when some men bought the place and open an irish pub right in front of your shop. You don't talk like it's an annoyance, everythings is quiet as usual for a pub during the day, but you're not so sure about the night.

The thing is, a month or two ago, a dark-haired man walked into your shop, with a smirk on his face, you have seen him around, principally that smirk, you noticed that he worked at the pub but when you first heard his voice with the strong accent you assumed that he was the owner. At the first time, he asked for your help to buy some flowers for his sister, whose were moving back to the town, he explained in an attempt to start a conversation, you suggested him pink roses and while you prepare the bouquet, he introduced himself as Finan, and as you assumed, the pub owner. You had a samll talk before he left.

Two weeks after that, Finan started coming over every week, usually on thursday, like today, and you always have his order almost ready by the time he shows up. You two got along very easily, he was all flirty over you, politely, however. You started to have longer conversations as the weeks passed by and was in one of those that he explained why the same order every week. His mother was struggling with some problems and when he showep up at the family dinner with flowers for his sister, he noticed that she got a bit emotional, so now he takes 'em every week to cheer her up. You couldn't resist thinking he's such a sweet guy after that, even though you try not to give attention to his flirts, you can't deny that you enjoy his company, he has been saving you from boredom and entertaining you on monotonous days, as he casually shows up on days other than thursdays.

The hours fly by and when you realise, you're hearing the front door bell ringing and a familiar figure walk in.

— Hi Finan, it's been a time since I've seen you. — you say with a little smile on your face.

— Hey Y/N! Did ya miss me? — you could tell that damn smirk was on his face even if you weren't looking.

— Miss your jerk face? Never. — yes, you did miss him.

— I'm gonna take it as a compliment. — he winked at you — Sorry about my absence, it's been a busy week.

— St. Patrick's Day, I presume.

— Yeah, we have some weeks until then, but as an irish, I have to make a proper celebration, ya know. — he tapped his fingers at the counter while looking at you — And talking about pub stuff, ya should come for the happy hour tomorrow.

As consistent as his visits on thursday, it is his invitations.

— I'm gonna think about it. — you say as you finish the bouquet, you won't admmit but you always leave some things to do when he arrives so you have more time to enjoy his company.

— C'mon, ya always say that! Ya have to meet the pub and the boys wants to know ya better!

The boys whose Finan is talking about are, Sihtric and Osferth, who both work with him, and Uhtred, they're Finan's best friends who he is always talking about. You kinda know them from seeing around but never really talked to them.

And, he's right. You always says the same thing, but in your defense it's been a bit hard to resist all these flirts, and you fear getting closer to him and ending up with a broken heart. You're sure he's a sweet, kind and cool guy, but also he seems to be quite womanising as well.

— I swear I'm going to think about it. — a smile grew up on your face as you realise he got puppy eyes

— Really? — he asks.

— Really! — you roll your eyes although you're smiling to him.

You two got engaged into a conversation and don't even see the time passing.

— Damn it! I'm really late, I have to go now. — he says after having a look on his watch.

You were ready to say something when he gets close and pecked you in your cheek. — Bye, lady. — he says as he walk away.

You could feel your cheeks getting warm and you froze but managed to say something before he leaves.

— You may see me tomorrow.

He didn't say anything but you know he was wearing that smirk.

-

Finan's visit at your store is not the only constance in your thursdays, actually you reunite with your former roommate and best friend, Ealswith, at thursday's nights. You two meet when you were both on college and had started living together after some time, it's been a while since you two live separetely, but you two still really closer, thankfully to the girls' night.

You two were really enjoying the night while having some wine and snacks, listening to music and soon that topic came up.

— He came over today, as usual, invited me to go to the pub tomorrow, I said I was going to think.

— As usual. — Ealswith mumbles.

— Stop it. — you smack her arm — And he kissed me before leaving. At the cheek! — I say before she get too excited.

— C'mon! You should go, really. You can no more act like you don't like him, it's so obvious.

— I cannot go! You know it.

— I know what? By the way you tell me, he's into you! And he wants to know you better out of your workspace.

You start to argument but Ealswith cuts you. — Don't say you afraid! You need to stop assuming things, maybe he's all flirty because he likes you.

— I- argh.. — you hide your face in your hands, you know she's right.

— Hey, hey! Look at me. Tomorrow you will close the shop, go to your home and I will meet you there to help you get ready, I'm going with you so if anything goes wrong or you don't feel well, we go home, right?

— Don't you think he's gonna find it, I don't know, weird to bring someone?

— I'm pretty sure he will understand you not going alone, and hey, maybe you can set me up with one of his friends. — she winks at you and you both start laughing.

— Okay, alright then.

-

So as planned, Ealswith showed up at your house to help you get ready as you were too nervous, it took a while but you could finally decided what to wear. It was nearly 6 p.m when you asked for a cab and it didn't take too long to arrive so in a few minutes you were at the pub.

You could feel your hand a bit shaky before walk in, but Ealswith noticed and hold it 'til you calm down.

You entered the pub and looked for that familiar figure, you couldn't find him but you managed to find Osferth, who waved at you and called Finan's attention to you.

— Hey Y/N! Are ya really here? — he greets you, laughing a bit

— I told you would maybe see me today!

— Don't blame me for being surprised. — You rolled your eyes at his answer, still smiling. — Ya brought a friend, hi!

You intruduce her to Finan and after that he takes both of you to their table, and properly presents you to the boys.

— What do ya ladies would like to drink? — he asks as we are all settled down.

— Just a pint, it's good. Right? — you turns to Ealswith and she nodded.

— One more round then! — he says to the waiter close to our table.

— It's good to finally meet you, Y/N! If you didn't work here in front I would think that Finan made you up. — Sihtric says and makes Uhtred and Osferth laughs and Finan roll his eyes.

— Yeah, it's nice to have an opportunity to see if everything Finan says about you, it's true. — Uhtred takes part.

You can ser Finan's cheeks a little bit red and you smile at this. — Well, I hope he have only said good things about me. — you answer kinda shy yet.

— Trust me, not a single bad thing. — Uhtred says.

— Except from you never accepting his invitations. — Osferth says and Finan smack his arm. Poor boy.

— It's good for you all to meet Y/N, and it's good for me to finally see the face of the mainly topic of our talks. — Ealswith says and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as it get warm up.

— Hope you've heard of us too. — Sihtric winks at her.

-

Anyone who passed by your table would think you were all friends for years, you got along easily and the night was being so fun, you were really enjoying their company.

After some time, you and Ealswith excused yourselves and headed the way to the toilet.

— God! He's so into you, more than I've thought. — she exclaimed at the moment you were out of their sight.

— Do you think? — yeah, you noticed how he looked at you since you arrived, but you didn't want to assume something.

— You know I say this because I love you, but stop being a fool! He fell down for you, I can say it for sure by what his friends said.

You couldn't argument with her, the signs were there and you have to admit that this is all you have wished for.

On the way back to the table you told her to go ahead and you were just back her. You stopped at the bar and asked for water, and while waiting you felt someone approach, you prepare to deal with a drunk guy who's trying to get along with some woman, but actually you feel chills when you heard that voice.

— May I say ya look stunning tonight?

— I would appreciate it, yeah. — you smile as you turn to him. You may be dreaming about that voice and smirk for days long.

— It's everything alright? — Finan asks.

— Yeah, just needed a bit of water before going back. — the bartender hands you a glass of water and you thanks him.

— So, what ya think? — he points to the place.

— You did a good job here, it's a nice place for sure.

— I'm not even going to ask about my friends 'cause this is something for Ealswith to answer. — we both shared a laugh.

— She and Sihtric got along very well, I see.

— Don't blame her, he can be very persuasive.

— So does she.

You two spent some time talking alone, just sharing things and getting more closer to each other.

When you two decided to go back to the group table they were all laughing of something.

— What's happening? — Finan asks as he pull a chair for you on his side.

— We were just telling Ealswith about one day after we started here and you crossed the streets so many times trying to get a reason to go to Y/N's shop. — Sihtric answers, still laughing.

— We're surprised you didn't notice him, Y/N! — Osferth says. — Otherwise I think you'd be scared of him.

— Good I didn't notice though. — I reply laughing at Finan.

— Alright, alright, stop talking about me.

You got a bit lost at the conversation when he stretched his arm across your chair and you could feel his fingers running through your undressed shoulder.

-

It was nearly midnight when you and Ealswith decided to go home. You said goodbye to the boys, saying it was nice to meet them and on the way out, Finan decided to go along with you.

You were at the pub entrance waiting for the cab Ealswith asked for, you could feel Finan catching your hand into his, he pulled you closer to say:

— It was a good night.

— Yeah, it was. — you said with a low voice just for him to hear.

— Hope we can repeat it, or maybe just the two of us. — he winked at you.

— I would like that, for sure.

You two were getting really closer when Ealswith call you out. — Y/N! It's here.

— See you thursday. — you smile at him, you walked away but turned back when remember something. — I almost forget it. — you handle him your shop card, but at the back you've written your personal number.

He catched it and you didn't think so much before approaching just to peck him in the lips for a few seconds before leaving.

— This woman will drive me crazy. — he speaks to himself when you've already leave.

-

Another week just started, you spent your weekend betwen spending some time with your friends trying to keeping up with everyone's lives and chatting with Finan. The last part taking over your weekend.

Things were getting a little bit more serious since you kissed him goodbye on friday and you allowed yourself to be open to a possible romance. Finan's flirty personality stayed the same, he would do it at any chance it was given to him, and you like it, it's good to feel that somebody wants you.

You were talking to your friend, Aethelflaed, on the phone about Finan and you jumped when you heard the sound of the door bell thinking that could be him but you turned around and saw a boy with curly hair into your shop.

— Morning! How can I help you?

— I'm Aethelstan, I'm here for the assistant job, we've talked on the phone. — the boy says, a bit shy.

— Oh, right, Aethelstan! I'm sorry I was a bit distracted. — you shake hands with him. —You've mentioned you are studying biology, am I correct?

— Yes, you are.

— So I think the flower stuff is gonna be easy, I just need to show you some other things and then you can have your first day here, and at the end of the day we discuss if everything is going alright.

-

The kid learnt the things pretty well, that was good because it's been a busy day so far.

You were checking some things at the computer when you saw a familiar figure at the other side of the street, he had just arrived, it seemed.

— Aethelstan, I'm going out quickly, pay attention if someone comes in. — you say a bit loud as the kid was at the back of the store.

You crossed the street before he get into the pub. — Finan,hey! — you call his attention.

—Y/N, hi! — he comes closer to hug you quickly.

— I just wanted to ask what are the plans for St. Patrick's day?

— So ya're planning to come?

— Only if it's seems cool enough. — you give him a smirk

— I won't say more than this, but if ya come ya gonna experience the best party of your life.

— I don't know if I believe, but I'll give you try.

— You should bring Ealswith! — you jumped when you heard Sihtric, he showed up from nowhere. — I'm sorry I have to steal your man but we got work to do.

You felt the warm on your cheeks after he called Finan "your man", but you didn't say anything, actually you liked it.

— See ya later! — you hear Finan says before being dragged by Sihtric. You blowed him a kiss before he entered the pub and then you went back to your store.

-

It seemed that an eternity have passed before friday arrives. It was a busy week and you barely saw him, even on thursday, he came but was in a hurry.

It was a good week, although. Aethelstan really helped you, you just found out that he and Finan are neighbors, they both live at the same building. The poor boy had to listen you talking about Finan a lot during that week, especially when Ealswith and Aethelflaed came.

You were actually doing nothing but counting the hours for you to go home, and Aethelstan noticed it.

— You know you can go home and let me finish stuff here, I can close the store.

— Are you sure of this?

— Yeah, it's not a big deal, you can trust me.

He was right, it was not a big deal.

— Okay then, thanks Aethelstan! See you monday.

It didn't take long for you to arrive at home, of course you had decided your outfit during the week, you were only waiting for Aethelflaed and Ealswith to come so you could get ready. Once the girls arrived and you all got ready, your home was a mess after this, you took a cab to the pub.

The pub was more crowded than usual, you notice that once you arrived, but it wasn't hard to find Finan as he and his friends were at the same place as the last week. You greeted everyone before getting a seat at his side, you introduced Aethelflaed to them and also met Uhtred's fiancé, Gisela, she was a kind woman, you hope you get more chances to hang out with her.

The night was going really well, you and the girls have danced a lot, you ordered too many green drinks, that you weren't sure of what it was, you were all having fun, there wasn't a moment when someone wasn't laughing. You felt really happy between them all, it was good feelings that you have made new friendships like them.

-

Things went a little wild when Finan intercepted you on your way back from the toilet and took you to his office upstairs. He closed the door behind you, his arms now rounding you.

— Oi! Calm down, my dear. — you said, not knowing exactly how to deal with him so close to you.

— I cannot, not when ya are out there being so beautiful, I can't stay away from ya anymore. — you feel chills when his hands squeeze your waist, pulling you closer to him

— You don't need to. — you gave him a smirk, but it didn't last too long as he got even more closer and catched your lips in his.

You felt breathless, it was even better than you thought, his lips were soft but rough over yours. His hands sliding down on your hips, it was a sign that things were getting hotter. When both of you were running out of breath, you could feel him break the kiss but leading the way of his lips to your neck. You gasped with the sensation, he sucked that point behind your ear.

You could feel his hardness against his trousers as he grabbed your arse, you started to feel the need to get rid of your clothes and when you took your hands to Finan's shirt he took a step back. You didn't understand why he would do that.

— Look, I really want ya, but I'm not doing in the right way. — he could see your confusion. — I didn't plan for this to happen here, so what ya think about going home with me, uh?

— I don't want to look desperate, but please, take me home. — you kissed him before you two settled down and go downstairs. You found Aethelflaed on the way and told her where you were going before leave.

The way on the cab was.. something. His hands running through your thighs all the way to his home, you were glad it was close. As soon as you entered at his flat, he pinned you on the door, kissing you hunger than before. He picked you up, your thighs now almost undressed under his touch as he leads you to his bedroom.

— Ya have no idea how many times I've thought about ya, about your lips against mine. Ya are such a dream, Y/N. — he says as he laid you on his bed, making sure to touch every inch of your body.

You pulled him closer enough to whisper on his ear. — And you have no idea of how many nights I dreamed about you touching me like this.

He kissed you hard, hands undoing the zipper of your dress and soon you were only wearing a black lace matching underwear. The look he gave you made you feel like you were burning inside.

— It isn't fair that you are all dressed yet. — you said running your fingers through his, still dressed, chest.

— This won't be a problem anymore. — he smirked at you as he started to unbutton his shirt. It didn't take so long until both of you were only on your underwear, you not so much as he took your bra off, sucking on your breasts, before going down on your body, starting to run his mouth on your inner thigh while playing with the laces on your panties before taking off.

You let a moan out when his lips pressed on your sweet spot, he went dived onto you, sucking on your clit, making you feel like you were in heaven.

— Finan, please, more! — you groaned when you felt his finger rounding you before enter you. You couldn't control your moans, praising him as his fingers curved inside you, hitting that spot. You couldn't contain your hands from pulling his hair when you came on his mouth.

You only had time to take a deep breath before Finan was all over you, kissing you breathless, your taste on his tongue. He parted the kiss, smiling at you as he brushes your hair off your face.

— Are ya ok? For another one?

— More than ok! — you answer laughing.

He took a condom from his trausers, rolling on and soon he was back over you. He kissed you as he was slowly entering you, and both of you were groaning loudly. His name leaving in between your lips like you were praising him, the sound of your hips colliding getting louder as he slammed into you. He was relentless, hard and fast on you, your nails scrapping his back, your thighs gripped his hips making he going deeper.

— Fuck, Finan! — you groaned loudly

He flipped you, now you were on top so you started riding him, rolling your hips over his causing to hit your spot. He grabbed your arse and you layed down over him, meeting his lips again, going up and down on him, now with his hands controlling the rhythm. You felt you were close so you started moving faster, soon you were clenching around him, moaning his name as he came right after you.

He slowly pulled out of you, and you fell at his side, breathless.

— That was... I don't even know. — you say between breaths, laughing with him.

— I'll be right back. — he kissed you on your cheeks before getting up, he pick up his boxer and then disappear into some door. He came back with a towel on his hands and get on the bed again. — Now let me take care of ya.

You were already sleepy but you smiled at this.

After he clean both of you, he pulled you so you could lay on his chest, his arms holding you close and all you could do was relax.

— Ya're too good to be true, mo grá. — he left a kiss on your forehead before fall asleep with you.

[verdemoun]

please can we have a non-canon to the timewarp post about maeves death pleaseee😭

special thanks to australian television drama love my way which traumatized me as a young lad

completely normal average typical day. taking maeve to the park because sugar might as well be cocaine to her, lenny telling her to stay where they can see her because he's that parent while she's already sprinting down the footpath like a wild animal

lenny and sean getting a chance to gossip. circa 2013 so there's loads to gossip about. davey's out of jail again, wonder how long that's gonna last. for all the shit he talks about abigail's cooking, john marston in the kitchen both looks wrong and never produces edible food. isaac's course should be wrapping up soon! but bullshit that kid is graduating

when they come around the corner to maeve on the ground, sean laughs. it's not the first time maeve macsummers has tripped over her own feet, shouts to her to hop up and dust it off

lenny's already frowning when she doesn't immediately, because maeve can and has run on a twisted ankle before. having the same thought, sean awkwardly jogs a few strides and kneels beside her, her she's fine, then asking her if she's alright, nudging her gently

looks up at lenny with an expression of mulled terror that will haunt him the rest of his days as lenny finally gets there and kneels, realizing how pale his little irish warrior princess has gone. did she hit her head? is she bleeding? is she breathing?

huh?

is she breathing?

is she - jesus christ i don't fucking know

soon enough panicked shouting attracts the attention of onlookers, someone thinks to call an ambulance as sean sits petrified as stone and watches lenny start cpr

lenny in tears himself having to hold sean back from fighting the paramedics as they take over, and someone says her heart's stopped

one by one the gang hear, via call, or text, and trickle into a private hospital room with only the news maeve's been taken to hospital, she's not breathing

the absolutely guttural wailing echoing down the hall, that only pauses when sean has to take an ugly shuddered gasp of air, tells them before they see this tiny girl laying perfectly, unnaturally still on a hospital bed.

everything they've gone through, it's just... not fair. the youngest, the brightest, hair like fire and the energy like a spark to gunpowder, the first to be buried. no one else could have taken the bullet, or saved her. none of them should feel guilt, but they all do, all wish they could trade places as their lives fall apart.

some genetic condition none of them had a chance of understanding. a massive heart attack. 6 years old, and a massive heart attack

karen drinks, and sleeps, and wakes up to drink until she passes out again, for months. jenny runs away, vanishes like she isn't willing to wait to see if the grief of losing maeve destroys what good she had in her life.

sean and lenny sit on the roof together, where they used to find maeve sitting on nights she climbed out her bedroom window to stare at the sky because she had no fear of anything, and wonder what would happen if they threw themselves off.

sean believes in heaven. he thinks he'll see her again. lenny doesn't believe in anything, thinks oblivion would just be an end to the pain. both just sit, and do nothing.

[dalyankiz1981]

Well like thousands of other theatre fans around the world I tuned in for, in my opinion, THE streaming event of the year last night and what a treat it was. I’m going to ramble and gush for several paragraphs so please bear with me…

What can I say about “Vanya” and Andrew’s performance that hasn’t been said before? I particularly love how they cleverly gave each character a ‘thing’ or quirk to help the audience identify who is speaking. I mean all the different accents he does are impressive - real dramatic Irish ‘mammy’ type voices for Liam and Elizabeth down to a more friendly, sedate middle Ireland lilt for Micheal and a small vulnerable, somewhat broken voice for Alexander. And of course Helena’s posh English accent blew my mind too. But I’m talking about a physical attribute or habit - a bouncing ball for Michael for instance, or Ivan’s use of his sunglasses. Subtle but works brilliantly 👏

Then there are the facial expressions which Andrew is just so good at. In theatre particularly they make such an impact when you can fill a period of silence with a facial expression and it says a thousand words. He is just outstanding in this field. And not just in the comedy moments - he could make me die laughing and shatter my heart equally with a single facial expression, and I know I’m not on my own when I say that.

I read the screenplay beforehand a couple of times and I’m glad I did as it did help to know which scene we were at and which key moments were about to occur. However there were still new things I picked up whilst watching it. Like it hadn’t become clear to me until last night that (spoiler alert!) Sonia was in unrequited love with Michael (a man clearly much older than her as insinuated in the script) - only that HE harboured feelings for someone he shouldn’t…

And I guess I can’t not touch on THAT scene between Helena and Michael 🔥 How the holy hell does one man play two people giving in to their desires and make it look believable? Well, if you’re Andrew Scott, you take off your shirt and start humping the floor and a closed door I guess! 🤭 (Not even gonna lie when I say I’ve thought about that scene an unhealthy amount of times! 😂). And then seeing Ivan’s shocked expression when he walks in on them holding the flowers 🤣 Absolutely frigging brilliant!

I would recommend everyone watch this once at the very least… I will obviously watch it a few more times as with most things you always pick up new details. It was undoubtedly a brave, experimental thing they decided to do last year without knowing how it was going to turn out but kudos to the whole team for putting together something so brilliantly surreal 👏

(I can’t say much about “People, Places and Things” atm as the NTAH platform crashed about two thirds of the way through it and they had to start the whole stream over. I took to doing something else rather than rewatch 75 minutes of something I’d just watched - and then fell asleep! So I haven’t seen the last part. I will come back with my thoughts on that one when I’ve watched the bit I missed!)

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Villainous Nick was very good 😊 I wonder how Matt would be in that situation? 🤔

Thank you, darling 🥰. Ugh, yes 😮‍💨

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @letsgivethisonemoreshot @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @tahiri-veyla

The soft moaning and panting were a clear sign of what was happening in that parking lot, behind the black SUV. But see, you didn’t mean for this to happen, the only reason you got inside his car was because you wanted to avoid causing a scene in front of your coworkers, again. Matt and his god complex didn’t allow him to have the merest hint of embarrassment, he was solely proud of everything he did, no matter how problematic it was.

He had trapped you in a corner of the arena hallway, pledging he just “wanted to talk”. You debated not going, knowing how artful he could be, but deep down you felt like you somehow needed this closure. You owe it to your heart and mind, and to have some peace of mind you decided to set the record straight.

After a few failed attempts at getting you back with his soft, pleading, warm chocolate eyes, pouts, and endless promises of being a different person, Matt decided to use the one thing he knew was impossible for you to resist: your sexual chemistry.

“Your body doesn’t lie, dovey. I can hear it calling for me, begging to feel me again. And I know you can hear it too” Matt’s hands traveled down your sides, gripping your waist and full hips as his body pinned you against the backdoor of his rental car.

You felt his erection pressing below your navel, and the slightest sign of a reaction caused Matt to internally smirk to himself before he brushed the tip of his nose against your cheek.

“Don’t you miss me? ‘Cause I sure as hell miss you every day. Here, feel it” Matt took your hand and placed it on top of his hard-on through the jeans. “This is how much I miss you, this is what I go through every time I think of you”.

You turned your face to the left side, fixing your gaze on the backdoor of the arena that led to the parking lot in an attempt to focus on anything but Matt or his touch. Your hand lingered on top of his clothed cock, a natural response that your body seemed to forget should not be so natural now that you had broken up.

Matt briefly watched your internal debate, and before you could act against him, he let his nose reach your hair and took a deep breath in, inhaling the delicate scent of grape bubblegum that always seemed to stain his pillowcase.

“Shit, you always smell so good. Is a freaking dream” Matt let his nose wander further down to your jaw, he softly bit the smooth flesh causing goosebumps to rise all over your arms before his nose found your exposed neck. He pressed himself closer to you, causing your hand to instantly close around his erection.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy” Matt groaned as his hand slid underneath your shirt, taking a handful of your right breast. “My sweet and lovely dove. All beautiful, perfect, and mine” He pulled back to look into your eyes, and the need and lust written all over the brown orbs made you sigh “Matt, please”

“You’re mine, aren’t you, dovey? You’re gonna forget all about that breakup, right? You still want me, still love me, still need me, no? Tell me you need me” His teeth tugged on your bottom lip until the flesh slowly slid from his grip “Tell me you want me”.

Your breathing became heavier with every touch “Matt, knock it off”. You tried to push him away, tried to put some distance between you, but as always, your body betrayed you.

It had a will of its own, desires that you somehow were unable to fulfill, needs that were impossible for you to kill. It was something about his grip, his energy, his scent that made your body euphoric. Details you couldn’t depict faithfully enough to deceive your body’s satisfaction. It was in the intricacies that only Matt possessed, you couldn’t mimic the soft tickling of his hair on your skin or his warm breath on your ear shell, nor the roughness of his palm when it rested against your hidden pearl or the sharpness of his teeth dragging across your skin. The devil is in the details, they say. To you, it sounds more like the devil lives within Matt Jackson.

“Why do you keep denying it, dovey? Is it because of Kenny?” Matt chuckled “We both know he can’t give you what I can. Kenny’s my best friend but let’s face it, he’s weak. He’s a weak man, too soft, too devoted, too in love with you to know what you need. But I do! I know that you don’t need a man that crawls back to you crying stupid apologies every time he fucks it up. No, no, no, you need a man who will hate-fuck you every time you argue” Matt’s hand pushed your back against the black SUV. The air was pushed out of your lungs with the impact and before you could say anything, Matt’s hands pushed the yoga pants down your legs before spitting on his fingers.

His digits spread your folds and expertly found your entrance “You need a man who can put you in your place. And what place is that, dovey? Oh yes, on your knees, with a cock buried deep in your throat” Matt’s fingers moved at a frantic pace, eliciting the most sinful sounds your body could vocalize.

“You like this kind of shit, don’t you, dove? Getting fingered in the parking lot of an arena at a random city, being used and fucked so good like the useless slut that you are” Matt’s tongue licked your cheek like a wild cat, playing and reveling in the taste of its prey before finally killing it.

“Matt, this is wrong” You whined loudly, legs instantly closing and clasping his hand between your thighs in an attempt to stop your rising orgasm.

Matt chuckled against your lips as his hands began to push his hard cock out of his navy blue joggers “And that’s why it feels so good, dovey. That’s why you’re gonna be soaking my cock in a few seconds. Because it feels so fucking good and we can’t stop, can we?”

[maibeewrites]

handle your own when you become a man //

a Marcus Alvarez x female!OC fanfiction

summary:

Veronica could always defend herself, always keep a straight face.

Until one day, when she has to do something that makes even herself question, what was she made for.

part I Bigger dog

"Everybody, calm it!" said Jax for the fourth time with an angry expression. Everyone held everyone at gunpoint. The deal with the Mayans went south. The Sons were all in Mayan grounds, they were surrounded.

They came to convince Alvarez to let them sell a shipment of guns near Oakland. Needless to say, El Padrino wasn't too happy about them arming up his streets.

But the Irish were pushing hard on the Sons and they needed to find a buyer ASAP. The Niners didn't buy it. They were deep in shit. A street gang in Oakland was offering just enough money for them to cover the Kings and make some profit for themselves. It would been the perfect situation, only for them weren't on enemy territory.

"It is a one time deal. You get a percentage too." Jax added.

Alvarez laughed. "You white boy you tripping on some shit if you think I will let you sell here."

"At least can we talk through this without pointing the guns?" Veronica said quietly and gestured around with her free hand.

Alvarez shook his head, and signalled to his men to lower their guns.

"Thank you" nodded Jax. The mexican did the same.

"Please Marcus, if we weren't in this situation, we wouldn't ask you something like this. And have another offer." Jax gestured to Veronica to continue.

So this was the part when she had to step in. She found herself in this situation because of a debt. She had to borrow once some money from SAMCRO, and they agreed that instead of fully paying it back in cash, she did something for them.

Her gig was a high end beauty store in the outskirts of Stockton. She imported MAC lipsticks and Uzis. Dior powders and metamphetamine. What was in season. That was her shit.

"If you let them sell this shipment now, I will pay you an allowance in the next three months, Papi. A percentage of sales. The higher the sales, the more money you get" said Veronica and crossed her arms. This was her deal with Jax, this is how she was gonna pay off the rest of her debt.

"What's your business have to do with this?" Alvarez asked.

"Oh, I'm just happy to help out my friends, you know. It's good for business you know if you have powerful relationships with powerful people" said Veronica with a smirk on her face.

Alvarez and her had already crossed ways in multiple occasions. Everybody in that area who dwelt in illegal businesses knew her. She immigrated from Eastern Europe when she was a minor. As an orphan, she quickly had to fend for herself in order to survive in this climate. She was the diva, a woman in power, who was not involved in porn or prostitution, but instead, in their trade. She was a curiosity nonetheless.

Plus Veronica was young and pretty. She had long dirty blonde hair, which she always wore wavy, and big blue eyes which stared so intensely into everyones' eyes. She was tall, almost the same height as Alvarez. She was athletic but very curvy at the right places, and slim where she needed to be. She was always told when she was a kid that she was "big boned". In the California sun, her skin was a bit more tan that originally, but still, she was a light shade of cream.

Overall, she looked beautiful. But her beauty was always overshadowed by who she was. She always wore combat boots, leather or cargo pants, utilitarian clothing, jackets, denim. She almost carried herself like a man sometimes, but she still had that feminine softness in her. The way she spoke, she was wise, determined and playful at the same time.

Of course she caught Marcus Alvarez's eye. It was always his fantasy to absolutely hatefuck the shit out of that smartass blanca. To make her cry and make her beg for it. He was curious, what else she could do with that pretty, pouty mouth besides playing tough.

"Jax, how much do you need this deal?" asked Alvarez.

"I think I aleardy layed it out for you. I need this" replied Jax with a stern voice. "Ask anything else, I give it to you"

Alvarez was thinking for a second.

"Alright. I let you sell it. You give my my 100 grand. And the percentage for her sales."

"Thank you, ese" Jax said and he couldn't hide his relief.

"There is one more thing, you." Alvarez said straight to Veronica.

The woman raised her brows.

"Me? Yes?"

"No, I mean I want you. For one night." Marcus looked her in the eyes.

Veronica got really confused at first, then it dawned on her.

"What?" The question left her lips so silently that even Jax could barely understand.

The air froze and everyone stared at her.

She rarely felt anxious. The feeling of anxiety was only familiar to her from memories. When she was in fifth grade, and in the winter, the boys would come and drag the most pretty and popular girls in the snow, kicking snow in their faces and ruining their clothes. She always hated that. Her stomach sank every time when recess came. How the boys cornered her and dragged her out in the snow.

But now, she felt the anxiety. A flash of cold washed over her.

"What?" she asked, but the question felt like it wasn't even aimed at Alvarez in particular. It was aimed at everyone. Did she really need to do this for the Sons?

"Chill out, ninita. You spend a night with me. A whole night" said Alvarez with a smirk on his face.

"You a funny man" Veronica said, and now her anxiety slowly turned to anger.

"Easy now" intervened Jax. He pulled Veronica to the side.

"Listen, I don't want this to be this way. But you have to say yes. As much as I know that this is wrong. Please" Jax looked at her with pleading eyes. "They will kill my family if we don't get a buyer" he spoke the last sentence almost as a whisper.

Veronica felt sorry for Jax, but at the same time wanted to laugh him and everyone in the face. What is she? What is she in the eyes of these men?

Really, a night with her?

It didn't take much thought to figure out what were Alvarez's intentions. She always could tell if someone wanted her.

She always put people into four categories: the ones with mutual attraction, even if it was platonic, the ones with no attraction, and the ones who either were attracted to her, but she wasn't to them, and the ones with the opposite.

Marcus Alvarez was in the first category. She found the man good-looking, but this didn't help the situation, that he demanded a night with her, so he could use her as he will. No one does this to her. No one touches her without her consent.

And now she had to give consent. The Mayans were snickering, the Sons stared at them and at their leader with rage. But they had to stay quiet, she was doing this for them.

"Okay. Tell me where to go and when." said Veronica finally, completely defeated.

"Just be ready tonight by 9. I will pick you up at your house" said Alvarez "now go, get the fuck out of my crib."

Jax ushered the Sons out. Veronica only looked straight ahead, pretending to not see the concerned stares.

"Oh, and wear a dress, look pretty" added Alvarez as he turned his back on Veronica.

[loverrofmineee]

The Parting Glass - Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal x OC

AO3 | Summary | Previous Chapter

A/N: I just wanted to do a quick little mention before the chapter. As seen from the title, there's a bit of Irish culture/music embedded in this part. I highly recommend looking into all the phrases and songs mentioned, as it really sets the tone for each scene. If anyone is interested I can post a few links to songs and things that inspired me while writing this!

Chapter 5- Sláinte

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Time on the base seemed to speed up, or at least that was Sorcha’s point of view. Ever since the letter from her brother, she had been counting down the days until she’d be in London. Thankfully her trip coincided with the Regensburg-Schweinfurt mission, which had taken weeks of planning and extra hours in the tower. By the time the day came, Sorcha was a mixture of exhaustion and delight, nearly skipping as she made her way to the tower. 

“No need to ask how you’re feeling, Devs.” Anika noticed her friend's mood instantly, a smile gracing her face. “I gather you’re excited about ditching us for a few days.”

“You sound like Shiv,” Sorcha chuckled, her words earning protests from the aforementioned girl, “But yes, I’m excited to see Cormack. I haven’t seen the kid in forever, so it’ll be nice to catch up in person finally.”

“So we’re just gonna gloss over the fact that Devs didn’t deny being glad to ditch us?” Shiv teased, hoping to get a rise out of her friend.

Shiv’s teasing worked, causing Sorcha to scoff and defend herself, “I never said I was happy to be leaving you all. Just happy to see Cormack… and maybe leave the base.”

“Oh, Shiv’s just jealous, Devs.” Aileen said as the rest of the girls formed a circle around Sorcha, planning to press her on any details, “Maybe we should all have brothers over here.”

“I don’t know if I’d recommend that,” Lilibet spoke, her words laced with an undertone of seriousness, “Tell Cormack I say hi. I miss the kid.”

“You know, sometimes I think you like him more than me. And you’ve only met him once!” Sorcha said with mock offense 

“When do you head out?” Aileen 

“Around eleven,” Sorcha sighed, “do you think they’d delay me due to the fog?”

Lilibet rushed to Sorcha’s side to comfort the girl, “of course not. All our work is done here, it’s just up to the brass to decide when they’re allowed to go. It better be soon though.”

A small smile fell upon Sorcha’s lips at Lil's words. Ever the mother of the group, she would go to great lengths to make each girl feel secure. “I wish you all could join me. God knows that I’ll be surrounded by men.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Shiv teased, a suggestive smirk on her face.”

“I swear, if you start another conversation about me finding a man, I will lose it on you.” 

Shiv raised her hands in mock surrender, “All I’m saying is that there’s nothing wrong with finding a London boy to spend the evening with.” 

Lilibet and Sorcha threw whatever was closest to them at Shiv. Earning a pencil and ball of paper to the face. Laughter enveloped the girls at the oldest two’s behavior since they were supposed to be role models for the others. 

“Really though.” Anika spoke up once the laughter had died down, “There’s nothing wrong with putting yourself out there.” 

“We get it, you’re in love with Benny.” Teased Aileen

“You’re one to talk!” Anika defended, “You and Biddick are always chatting. Who knows what you’re whispering to each other.” 

Aileens face suddenly became flushed, confirming the other girl's thoughts about the couple. “Curt’s a good lad.” 

“Oh, we’re sure he is.” 

“Piss off Shiv!” 

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Sorcha’s train ride to London was a pleasant one, as it gave her time to collect herself and actually process the past weeks. The fast-paced nature of Thorpe Abbotts gave little time to comprehend what occurred week-to-week, something Sorcha was partly grateful for. She wasn’t a woman who enjoyed stewing in the past, opting to keep quiet during the many nights she and her friends would swap secrets and stories about their lives before the war. The girls knew a decent amount about Sorcha’s life in New York, but mainly the happy memories. Most of those memories had Cormack woven into them since the two had been best friends since they could remember. 

Tears started to form at the creases of Sorcha’s eyes as she got closer to the station, a mixture of joy and sorrow. She was more than overjoyed to see her brother, but deep down she knew he’d be a different person when she saw him. His letters had detailed various aspects of missions, but true to his personality, Cormack would end each with a positive note, saying everything was fine. Sorcha did her best to believe him each time, but not so secretly worried for him. 

Before she knew it, Sorcha had arrived in London. She quickly wiped her tears away as she gathered her belongings, stepping off the train and onto the platform. Her eyes darted around the bustling platform, looking for her brother, as he had promised to meet her when she arrived. 

“Sorcha!” A voice called down the platform. Sorcha’s eyes immediately set on her brother, rushing to greet him. 

The two siblings enveloped each other in a bone-crushing embrace, Sorcha’s eyes watering once again. After a minute or so they let go of one another, Sorcha’s hands firm on Cormack’s shoulders, “Hold on, let me get a good look at you.”

Cormack let out sounds of protest, stating he was ‘too old’ for her to be doing such things, though he stood still at Sorcha’s demand. Her brother had somehow managed to grow a few more inches during his time in England, now standing at a whopping six feet. His unruly brown curls peeked out underneath his officer's cap, something their mother would protest, stating that he needed a haircut. Cormack’s face seemed more mature, bags under his eyes from the amount of sleepless nights he had. Though a boyish smile was permanently placed on his face, and a smattering of freckles kept him youthful. 

“Are you done examining me?” Cormack chuckled as he pushed his sister's hands off, “You planning on writing a detailed letter to Mom about how I look?”

“Maybe. You know she’d appreciate it. Though I’m not sure she’d appreciate how crazy you’ve let your hair get.”

Cormack subconsciously took his cap off, running a hand through his hair at his sister's words. However, the small action caused his hair to stand up even more, making Sorcha laugh as she attempted to fix it for him. 

“Oh stop it,” Cormack attempted to swat Sorcha’s hands off his head, a fit of giggles escaping the girl. 

“Hey, don’t forget who did your hair for prom.”

“How could I ever forget, since you’ll never let it go.”

Sorcha frowned at her brother's words, though it was quickly replaced with a smile as he grabbed her bags, and started to walk to the car. “So, I know I was pretty vague in my letter,”

“You? Being vague in a letter to me? That’s something new.” Sorcha’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she teased her brother.

“I may cancel all our plans today if you keep acting like this.” Cormack threatened, immediately silencing his sister. “Thank you, now if you’d let me finish. There’s a lecture over at Oxford about politics and that type of shit. Thought you’d wanna go to that, even though it's insanely boring.”

A smile that could rival the sun appeared on Sorcha’s face at her brother’s suggestion, overwhelmed with joy that he took notice of her passions. “I would absolutely love that. And since you’re being so kind, I’ll let you complain as much as you want during it.”

“Oh, that was a given.” Cormack laughed as the two climbed into the car provided to them by the hosts of the conference. The car made its way through London, both siblings putting their conversation on hold to take in the view of the foreign city. Sorcha was practically buzzing in her seat, the chance to explore a new place sent her mind racing. 

Cormack could feel his older sister’s excitement, secretly happy that she was this excited. “Can you possibly, maybe, hopefully not be a total bore during this trip?”

Sorcha turned to her brother with mock offense on her face, “Don’t even start with me, young man. As if you wouldn’t be going crazy if some boring engineering lecture were going on today.”

“Well, one of those things actually pertains to what I do, versus what you do.”

“We’ll agree to disagree.”

“No, you know I’m right!”

The two siblings continued their small argument as they pulled up to the hotel they were staying at. Sorcha shot an apologetic smile at the concierge working the hotel, as her brother was prattling on beside her. Cormack was still continuing to make his point as they grabbed Sorcha’s bags out of the trunk, and kept going until they were in Sorcha’s room. 

“God, if you weren’t a pilot you’d make a damn good lawyer.”

Cormack was unamused by his sister’s words, the look evident on his face, “Once again, you sound like mom. She would always say that to make me keep quiet.”

“I wonder why?” Sorcha’s voice dripped with false sweetness, a smile matching her tone. 

“You know, I think she’s secretly glad we’re both over here. She doesn’t have to deal with constant arguments. I mean half of her letters are all about Caoimhe.”

“Well,” Sorcha turned to her brother as she unpacked, quickly defending their sister, “She is their little baby. Pretty sure she’s dad's favorite.”

The pair burst into laughter at Sorcha’s words, imagining what their family must be like back in New York with only one child to take care of. Neither Sorcha nor Cormack spoke with any malice when discussing their family, as they had always been extremely close. Sorcha felt a sense of calm and normality wash over her as she joked with her brother, feeling as if they were both at home, not miles away from it. 

Once Sorcha had fully unpacked the two made their way to Oxford to attend the lecture. They opted to walk since it was a surprisingly nice day in England, meaning there was no predicted rain for the day. The pair walked in silence as Sorcha took in all the sights, marveling over the architecture of each building. London was absolutely stunning, nearly presenting itself as a city untouched by war. Though as much as Sorcha tried to romanticize her stroll, she couldn’t escape her reality. The siblings passed by a row of houses, only the support beams left. Families were piled on top of the rubble, searching for anything that could be salvaged. Sorcha felt a pull on her heart, wishing more than anything that she could give the families a semblance of comfort. 

“There was an air raid last night,” Cormack noticed his sister’s solemn expression, trying to give her some context, “I know what you’re thinking, but don’t think about it too much, Uan.” 

Sorcha smiled at her brother’s attempt at comforting her, using the pet name their mother gave them. Cormack had never been the emotional type, their father joking that Sorcha somehow took in all his feelings as a form of protection. As the eldest sister Sorcha felt a responsibility to check in on her brother, but Cormack would never let anything on, always stating that everything was fine. In a way, Sorcha tended to believe him, his frequent admissions seeming sincere. 

“How’d you handle it?”

“Same as I always do. Though this time I didn’t have Rubber in my ear saying the flashes remind him of fireworks.”

“Remind me,” Sorcha glanced at Cormack, the  mention of his friend piquing her interest, “Why is he called ‘Rubber’ again?”

Cormack let out a bark of laughter before answering his sister, “The poor bastard's last name is Trojan. And I don’t wanna bring up that topic, but I’m assuming you can make your conclusion there.” 

Sorchas face twisted at her brother’s innuendo, nodding that he was correct in his previous statement. “So, what’s your nickname then? I know all flyboys have one, but please don’t tell me it’s basic. I’ll be truly disappointed if it’s the same as mine.” 

“It’s Crisp.” Cormack stated, taking in his sister's confused expression, “When we first landed over at King's, I climbed out of my plane, and there was an awful burn line from the sun. So one of my buddies tells me I’m burnt to a crisp, and it carried on from there.” 

Sorcha chuckled as she imagined the situation, knowing how badly her brother burnt when exposed to the sun for too long, “that’s pale Irish skin for you.” 

“Mom would be having a field day if she saw how bad it got every mission. But it’s settled down, for now.” 

The Devlin siblings had finally arrived at the grounds of Oxford, both impressed by the structures around them. Cormack spared glances at Sorcha, her face lit up like a kid in a candy store. Sorcha couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face as they approached the interior of the building, wishing she had all the time in the world to explore. 

Suddenly Sorcha felt Cormack's hands wrap around her shoulders, “You were gonna run into the beam.” Her brother’s words rang true, as inches from Sorcha's face was an intricately carved wooden beam. 

“And you weren’t going to let me run into it for fun?” Sorcha eyed her brother cautiously, “It’s scary how much you’ve matured.” 

“Don’t give me too much credit, I’m sure you’ll take those words back eventually.” The siblings shared a knowing smile at the younger's words, both knowing that Sorcha would take any chance to poke fun at him for acting like a 15-year-old. 

The room where the lecture was being held was filled with various servicemen and women, either from America or Britain. Accents mixed during conversations, both parties attempting to set aside personal differences to agree on the reason for war. Sorcha sat next to a less than enthusiastic Cormack, the latter opting to keep quiet around the light chatter around him. 

“I know you hate sincerity,” Cormack groaned at his sister's words as she spoke, “but I genuinely appreciate you doing this for me. I know it’s not your interest whatsoever.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” The younger Delvin swatted his arm as if trying to dissipate the words from the air. His response was true to his personality, eliciting a sigh from Sorcha. 

The lecture was exceptionally informative to Sorcha, the woman hanging on the speaker's every word. True to her brother's words, this was her ‘shit’. Admittedly, Cormack was well-behaved during the hour and a half they were sat in the hall, only making a few snide comments, more so poking fun at the lecturer himself. 

“Could the man talk any slower?” Cormack groaned as they left the room. “I swear I thought I was gonna die in that room. I’d have been talked to death.” 

“If anyone is guilty of talking someone to death, it’s you.” 

“I swear if you make the lawyer comment again-“ 

“I wasn’t!” Sorcha raised her arms in defense, “but you do talk a lot.” 

“Keep this up and we’re not going out tonight.” 

Sorcha perked up at her brother's statement, her interest being piqued once again. “You never said we were going out?” 

“You never let me explain myself,” Cormack sighed, “I met a few guys last night, from the conference, and we found a nice pub nearby. Told them we should go again if you’re up to it.” 

Sorcha feigned offense at her brother's words, “When am I ever not ‘up to it’?” 

“M’not sure if you’ve managed to change since being over here. God knows the number of times I got a call from Colleen begging me to pick you two up from Rory’s” 

“It wasn’t that many times,” Sorcha reasoned in an attempt to defend her past actions, “Colleen was just dramatic.” 

Cormack leveled a challenging look at his sister, “Was it dramatic when I picked you both up drunk out of your minds next to the Deegan?” 

“We were almost home!” Sorcha defended, “It was basically 5 blocks from our apartment. You complain but we all knew you had a crush on Colleen.” 

“Fuck off.” Cormacks face turned beet red at his sister's teasing, confirming her previous comment.

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A set of pounding knocks were heard at Sorcha’s door, signaling that her brother was on the other side. She let out a small sigh as she made her way over, opening it to see Cormack's exasperated face. “Could you take any longer?” 

“I made you wait for a whole minute! God, you're impatient.” 

“It’s what makes me a good pilot.” Cormack grinned with pride, “Anyways, I’ve got the boys waiting down in the lobby, just waiting on you.” 

Sorcha quickly pulled on her shoes and exited her room, Cormack on her heels. “So who are these guys?” 

“A few RAF guys I met yesterday. They’re good guys, just so long as we don’t discuss anything about American bombers.” 

Sorcha nodded her head in understanding, having borne witness to many arguments between Brits and Americans, each defending their positions with fierce loyalty. “So no work talk for me then? Sounds perfect.” 

A brief chuckle fell from Cormack's mouth at his sister's words. The two continued to chat as they made their way down to the lobby. Three airmen were circled in a group, all in dress uniform. “Hey, lads!” Cormack's voice grabbed the attention of the men, each letting out a brief greeting and waving at the siblings. 

“Sorcha,” Cormack started as he led his sister to the group, “this is John, Percy, and Douglas.” 

The men each shook Sorcha’s hand, British accents slipping through in their ‘hi’s’ and ‘hellos’. Sorcha found an opportunity to eye each man as Cormack caught up with them. John was the tallest of the three, with neat black hair poking out of his cap. His face was sharp, making Sorcha assume that his personality was the same. Percy was the youngest of the group, blond ringlets that were poorly gelled down stuck up, looking as if they were trying to escape from the boy they were attached to. Douglas was the most striking of the trio, at least to Sorcha. He had a certain authority about him, though it wasn’t intimidating, more so inviting. The cap that sat on his head was somewhat askew, giving Sorcha a peek of his half-curly brown hair. A pair of green eyes belonging to Douglas met Sorchas, causing the girl to blush. 

“So, are we ready to head out?” Cormack's voice snapped Sorcha out of her current state. She let out a curt nod as the group took to the streets of London. Cormack walked ahead alongside John and Percy, meaning that Sorcha and Douglas fell into step with each other. 

“Cormack’s been excited about this all day, you know?” Douglas’s crisp accent broke the silence between the two. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a lad who’s a bigger fan of his sister.” 

“You’re just saying that,” Sorcha dismissed the man’s words with a wave of her hand. 

“I really do mean it. The entire time we were out last night he kept mentioning how much you’d love this place.” 

Sorcha's heart swelled at the man’s words, “he’s a good kid. He was practically my best friend growing up.” 

A fond look appeared on Douglas’s face as Sorcha spoke, “It was the same for me and my older brother Charles. I basically spent my whole childhood chasing after him. He was a true hero to me.” 

“Are you two no longer close?” 

“No,” Douglas sighed, a crestfallen look washed over his features, “He went down in combat during the battle of France. Wasn’t an airman like myself, thought it’d be better to work on the ground. He’s been gone three years now, but God do I miss him every day.” 

Sorcha laid a hand on Douglas’s arm in a feeble attempt to comfort him. Though the two had just met, a certain connection flowed between them, “I’m so sorry, Doug. That- it just must have been awful.” 

“It was, but it’s the reality we’re in. The reason I get back in the air is for him.” 

“I can’t imagine how hard it is,” Sorcha spoke softly. 

“It’s difficult for sure, but there’s a level of comfort in it. I feel like he’s with me on every mission.”

The brief moment was broken by a loud shout from Cormack, earning him a few looks from passersby. “You two! Hurry on up, it’s just up ahead.” 

Doug extended an arm for Sorcha to take, which she took gladly, linking her arm with his. “Let’s have a good time, for Charles. How does that sound?” 

“That sounds lovely, Miss Devlin.” 

As the group approached the pub, aptly called Finnegans Wake, Sorcha could hear a traditional set pouring from the windows. Her face lit up in excitement, the grip on Doug’s arm growing stronger. Cormack turned to his sister with a wide smile, arms open as if he were presenting the bar to her. “What do ya think, Uan?

Sorcha let go of her grip on the Brit, rushing to embrace her younger brother. Cormack spun her around as the two fell into a fit of laughter, “Have I  recently mentioned that you’re the best brother ever?” 

“No, but at least I have the guys to witness this.” 

“Are the two of you gonna stay outside, or can we go in?” Percy teased, not being able to stand still. 

John piped up to appease his friend, “I think we should head in.” 

The pub was bursting with life as the group went in. Nearly every table and chair was full, people coming and going every second. A live band was stationed in the corner, continuing to play traditional Irish music. John had gone ahead of the rest in an attempt to secure a table for them. His attempt proved successful, as a few patrons gave up their seats for the men, and woman, in uniform.         

“You know,” Percy started as he sat down, “Sometimes I hate this uniform, but I’ll be damned if it has its perks.”  

“We all drinking?” Cormack asked before heading to the bar. A resounding chorus of yes prompted the boy to wiggle his way through the crowds with the precarious task of acquiring five drinks. 

A light jig played in the background as Sorcha conversed with the men. They helped give her a glimpse into what RAF life was like, and how it differed from her life at Thorpe Abbotts. “My best friend Lil was stationed at an RAF base for a while.” 

“Why’d she leave?” John asked in almost a defensive tone. 

“Once they started opening up our bases, the brass felt like they needed experienced women to help train the newbies.” 

“Good on them. Your lot needs it.” 

Doug lightly shoved Percy for his comment, signaling with his eyes that it wasn’t the time nor place for comments like those. Before Sorcha could retort, Cormack had returned to the table, somehow balancing all the drinks in his hand. 

“I just did Guinness all around. Figured we all could take it.” 

“This lad gets it!” Cheered Percy as he took his glass. 

Once Cormack had settled down into his chair, he raised his glass, causing the others to mimic him. “To weekend passes and boring lectures! Sláinte!” 

Sorcha shot her brother a look for demeaning the day's event but echoed him alongside the others in his cheers. The bitter taste of the ale coated her mouth as she took a sip, making Sorcha feel as if she were home. 

Once the group was a few drinks in, the conversation had been long gone from the earlier pleasantries. The group exchanged various stories about their bases, as well as what they did before the war. Eventually, they started talking about their personal and love lives, “Cormack won’t tell me anything about his girl at the base!” 

“That’s because you get all interrogative!” Cormack slurred, pointing an accusatory finger at his sister.

“Is it a crime to ask questions?”

“Depends on what your government says.” John quipped, earning a bark of laughter from Sorcha and Doug.

“Seriously though,” Sorcha leveled once the laughter had subsided, “Tell me about her.”   

Cormack sighed in defeat as he put his glass down, “Her name is Audelia. She works on her family’s farm which is beside our base. I met her at one of the parties they threw in the officer’s club. Rubber told me she was way out of my league, but that didn’t matter to me. I asked her to dance, and the rest was history.” A look of true adoration was painted on the younger boy’s face as he spoke, making Sorcha smile. 

“She sounds nice. I hope I get to meet her one day.”

“She’s the best. Honestly one of the only things keeping me going each day. Shit’s hard for her, ya know?” Cormack continued, though his previous tone was now replaced with one of contemplation, “We say goodbye to each other before I go up. And I can’t help but think what’d happen to her if I didn’t come back.”

John turned to the boy, matching his tone as he spoke, “I get it. My wife and I send letters nearly every week. M’hoping to see her soon though.” 

The others simply nodded their heads at his statement, a sour mood falling over them. Sorcha glanced at her brother, sending him a reassuring smile. She knew he wasn’t one for verbal comfort, as he didn’t see the point in continuing an already hard conversation. The mood was quick to shift when Sorcha’s ears perked up as the band started a new tune, American Wake, which happened to be one of her favorites. The Devlin sibling's eyes caught, Cormack matching his sister's smile, extending a hand to her, “Shall we dance?”

Sorcha couldn’t even form words as she stood up, too overjoyed to speak. She immediately grabbed her brother's hand as they rushed to the makeshift dance floor alongside other couples. Those on the floor had started to form small circles, spinning themselves to the beat. In the chaos of making the groups, Sorcha had stood parallel to her brother as the group started to spin. A smile to rival the sun was set upon the sibling’s faces, a feeling of pure bliss washing over Sorcha. Once the circle had been broken Sorcha rushed to grab her brother's hand, fear of losing him to the crowd. They set into a stance similar to a slow dance, except the music entirely opposed the notion of ‘slow’. Sorcha tightly gripped her brother's hand as they spun around again, doing their best to avoid crashing into others. Both siblings pushed their feet against the floor, making them spin on a dime, dizzying laughter carrying across the pub. The song ended as quickly as it had begun, causing Sorcha and Cormack to pull away from each other. Both of their faces were flushed red, droplets of sweat falling from their foreheads. 

“I told you we’d have a good time,” Cormack shouted as they made their way back to the table.   

“You two have fun up there?” Doug asked, already knowing the answer. 

Sorcha was out of breath as she sat down, resting her hand on Doug’s arm to gain balance, “I felt like we were back in New York! Cormack really is the best brother.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Cormack face reddened deeper at his sister's words. Sorcha and the men fell into comfortable laughter at the embarrassment of the younger boy. 

“Could I request a dance?” Doug asked, speaking quietly to Sorcha.

It was the older Devlin’s turn to turn red, trying to cover it up with fake confidence and giggles, “Only if you can keep up with me!”

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Hi! For the reverse prompts:

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss for jackharding sounds sooo funny bc jack genuinely does not mean to and does not care while chick just follows him around avoiding his responsibilities.

Bonus his men knowing damn well what chick is doing and where he is and just letting him be (like imagine blakely and douglass walking into a random diner and seeing chick tucked in a booth and the three just staring at each other for a beat before dougley walking right back out) while the other families are spitting mad asking where he is

Jack's new-ish at this, but he's not a fucking idiot. When his boys bring him back a man who matches the general description, he holds out his hand. "Wallet."

"What? You need one?" the guy asks. He stares at Jack, and Jack stares back. The man snorts after a moment and takes out his wallet. He holds it out. "Say please."

"Fuck you," Jack replies and takes the wallet. He opens it and finds the driver's license. "Neil Harding," he reads. He looks at his boys.

"He goes by Chuck," says Winks.

"I go by Chick," says Neil Harding.

"Why?" asks Lemmons.

"Who cares," Jack says before Neil Harding can say anything else. "Winks, Lemmons, get fucked until I'm no longer mad at you."

"So, we're fired?" Lemmons asks, all cheeky grin.

Jack wishes he could threaten it, but Rosie's his best lieutenant, and he's desperately in love with Lemmons, and Lemmons and Winks are both actually competent most of the time. They just don't understand how you do a kidnap properly. Jack hopes Hambone and Brady are having a good time on their honeymoon, but he also needs them to get back sooner rather than later.

Winks and Lemmons leave Jack's office. Neil Harding looks around, then sits on the leather couch along the left wall. He reaches inside his suit jacket and pulls out a cigar.

"You mind?"

"You care?" Jack asks.

"Not really," Neil Harding says.

Jack picks up the pewter ashtray he keeps on the windowsill. He carries it over and sets it on the side table next to Neil Harding's elbow. He pulls out his cigarettes as Neil Harding lights his cigar and takes a long drag.

"So, you're the Irish Fox," he says, snapping his lighter closed and tucking it back in his pocket.

"And you're not Chuck Harding," Jack replies. He sits in the chair across from the couch. "Am I gonna get the Moose after me?"

Neil Harding's smile falls away and is replaced by a sharp smirk and a sharper gaze. Jack's known his name for years. Everyone in the business does. He'd been Slick Chick when he'd been younger, able to talk his way into any room despite his low connections and fluffy hair the color of a backyard hen. It's been shortened to Chick in the two decades since, though Jack doesn't know how or why. If his father knew the lore, he hadn't written it down or said it out loud before getting shot in the back of the head by Chuck Harding.

"I believe you mean the Bucks," Chick says. He takes another draw off his cigar, then taps the ash into the ashtray. "You're, what? Third generation? Your grandfather got your family going, then your father moved you up the ranks--my sympathies, by the way. He was always willing to listen and made choices based on facts."

"Appreciate hearing that," Jack says. "But I'm still worried your guard dogs are going to snap at my heels."

Chick glances at his watch, then at the phone on Jack's desk. "Egan and Cleven will hold still for three hours before striking. But it's been about an hour, which means they know it's you."

"No doubt," Jack agrees. He nods towards his phone. "Feel free to call them and give them the okay. Or you can let yourself out."

"You don't seem worried I'm going to get revenge for this," Chick says.

Jack stands and flicks his own ash into the ashtray. "You could have done that when they grabbed you, but you let them walk you in here without touching them."

"They're boys," Chick says. "And besides, I wanted to be the first man to say he'd met the elusive fox."

Jack snorts and shakes his head. "I've got the same name as my father. What's elusive about that?"

"You don't go to the shows. You don't see pictures. You don't go out to eat. No one's spotted you out and about in a year."

Jack stubs out his cigarette and meets Chick's eyes. Chick's watching him with that same sharp gaze, but the smirk is gone. His face is sincere and serious. "I wasn't supposed to take this job until I was thirty," he says. "And there are some fellas who like to take out the young ones."

"Chuck Harding's a big fan of that," Chick says. "Your father's the eldest he's ever taken out."

"Which I'd like to pay him back for," Jack replies, the anger rising up in the sudden wave it always appears. "By taking everything he has and leaving him poor and alone and friendless."

"Your boys were nothing but polite," Chick says as he stands. "And I know they're not your usual snatch team."

"They're on their honeymoon," Jack says.

Chick huffs a laugh. "Disgusting. What kind of mob man shits where he eats?"

"From what I hear, your Elks."

"Bucks," Chick corrects, and there's a smirk on his face again, but it's softer this time, almost a smile. "What about you, Jack Kidd, Irish Fox. You like to shit where you eat?"

Jack shakes his head. "I suppose I am your type," he says. "Half your age and blonde."

"And leggy," Chick adds, and now it really is a smile, and it's a hell of a smile. "But before we decide on the wedding china, how about I call the Bucks and get them on Chuck Harding? They've been working an angle to make him think he's made a new friend who actually works for me."

"You'll hand me Chuck Harding when you've put a guy in already?"

"I want him out of the way because he's sloppy and rude. You want him ruined because he took your father. Your reasons are better and get me the result I want."

Jack considers the option. He licks the corner of his mouth when he catches Chick staring. "And however will I thank you?" he asks.

Chick outright beams. "Wrap your legs around my waist one time, and we'll call it even."

Jack meets that sharp, confident grin and feels a grin of his own. "If you think you can keep up."