#on the side even . they swing by the station to drop something off in their casual clothes

[hoofpeet]

Punk Ingo and Emmet painstakingly sowing dozens of safety sign patches to their coats

[vibraniumavenger]

Collision

TW/CW: Car accident, injuries.

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Diaz!Reader

You smiled to yourself as you walked beside Christopher, your nephew. You had watched him in the morning while your brother was working, and Carla was attending an appointment. You didn’t mind though, you absolutely adored him, and he enjoyed spending time with you. 

You had an hour to kill before dropping him off to Carla, and heading off to work yourself, so you decided to swing by the station to have lunch with the team. It was quiet when you arrived, indicating the team were on a call. You took it upon yourself to make lunch for everybody, knowing it would be a relief to them when they got back. Chris was sat at the table on his tablet, in a world of his own, allowing you to focus on the food. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the sound of the shutters opening filled the station followed by heavy boots thudding against the floor as each firefighter jumped out of the truck. The footsteps got closer, the faint smell of smoke mixed with a familiar aftershave filled your nostrils and you instinctively lean back into the body that is now behind you as arms snake around your waist. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?” 

You turn towards the voice, and smile, “Apparently, I can’t seem to stay away.” You lean up to kiss Buck, causing Chris to pull a disgusted face. This seemed to amuse Buck, and he kissed you again. Eddie appeared in the kitchen, and made his way over to his son, visibly happy to see him. “Come on guys, get a room.” You rolled your eyes playfully at your brothers comment, and pulled away from Buck. 

You dished up the food for the team and took a seat, eager to hear about the call they had just been on. You listened intently as you ate, your complete focus on Buck as he spoke passionately about the call. Your heart warmed as you watched his face light up, he loved how much you genuinely enjoyed hearing about the calls, and how his day had gone. Chimney was the next to speak up, “It was a good call, except the part where Buck was playing hero and nearly got himself killed.” Bucks eyes widened and he turned to look at Chimney, giving him a look that immediately stopped him talking. Chimney, trying to help, began speaking again, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t any more dangerous than a simple call, the risk is always there. Besides, it was probably one of the safer times Buck tried to save the day, you should’ve seen him on the call last week.” 

“Chim, stop talking.” Buck, who was now visibly on the spot, turned to face you. He studied your face, working out how to approach this. He opened his mouth to reassure you, but you beat him to it, “I thought we spoke about this…” Buck knew you understood that no day was guaranteed, and that saving people on calls was something he would always try to do, even if it put him at risk. He also knew that he had a habit of jumping the gun and putting himself in dangerous situations without thinking it through. “I’m sorry…” 

You checked your watch, and stood up. “I just wish you’d be more careful, Buck.” Chris stood up and hugged Eddie goodbye, and you did the same. “Later bro.” You said goodbye to the team and walked back to the car with Chris by your side. The breeze hit you, and you took a deep breath. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe not but you just needed a moment. You helped Chris into the car and got in yourself, turning on the radio. The short ride to Carlas mostly consisted of Chris laughing as you sang along to the music, and the occasional conversation when Chris wasn’t overly engrossed in his phone. Carla was there to greet you when you pulled up on her drive, Chris was extremely excited and practically jumped out of the car to hug her. Carla gave you a hug, “Y/N, it’s so good to see you!” You smiled and hugged back, “It’s been a while, huh? Life has been hectic.” Carla laughs at this, “You’re telling me, your brother told me all about you and Buck. Moving in together? That’s a big step!” 

“We were practically living together anyway, and if I’m being honest, Eddie is probably just relieved to have his couch back. I was starting to get on his nerves.” You explained to Carla, and she chuckled. “Well, I wish you all the best. I’m gonna get Chris inside, and I’ll let you run off to work. It was lovely seeing you.” You hug Chris goodbye and bid farewell to Carla before getting into your car and beginning your journey to your place of work. In front of you, the amber light turned to red and you stopped. You could see that traffic was beginning to build up on the other side of the junction, and you didn’t want to be late. You sighed, and made the decision to take an alternate route, so when the light turned green, you indicated and pulled out to begin taking your turning. You let out a sudden gasp before you could even properly register the car coming towards you. All you could do was attempt to brace for the impact, and so you did. 

A loud crunching sound surrounded you, followed by the feeling of being thrown as your car was barrelled into. You closed your eyes tightly, scared of what was next. You didn’t have the courage to open them again until the car steadied. The first thing you could see was the airbag in front of you, despite not feeling it deploy moments before. You could smell the burning of the tyres, outside of the car, you could hear the panicked voices of bystanders, but all you could focus on was the blood that was now spread across your arms, unsure of where it was actually coming from. You weren’t in pain, at least you couldn’t feel any in that moment. Is that what shock feels like? You couldn’t think, but your eyes got heavy and you fought your hardest not to succumb to the darkness. 

Back at the station, the call was only just coming in. The alarm blared throughout the station, alerting the team to the call. They were quick to jump into action, grabbing their gear and piling themselves into their assigned trucks. Eddie and Buck sat beside each other, speaking casually between themselves about what had happened earlier. “Just give her some time, she’ll come around. For her, two of the people she loves most are at risk everyday, you’ve gotta imagine it can’t be easy. It’s a risky job as it is, and when you put yourself into riskier situations without needing to, it decreases the chance of making it home at the end. She’s scared. Just talk to her.” Eddie attempted to reassure Buck, who was feeling terrible. He couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind, the face that showed disappointment in his actions. Before Buck could respond, the truck halted and the team jumped out, ready to give help where needed. Buck stopped in his tracks as an all too familiar car was crushed before him. He tried not to panic, hoping that his suspicions were wrong. His eyes flicked to the number plate and his heart stopped. His feet were moving before his mind could catch up. He shouted your name, drawing Eddies attention. It took Eddie a few seconds to process what was happening. You had not long left the station, it couldn’t possibly be you. Right?

Buck arrived to your car first, nausea washed over him as he caught sight of your injured body. “Y/N? Hey, it’s me. I’m here.” You weren’t completely aware of what was happening, your eyes opened with a struggle. Your movements were weak as you turned your head to look at him. “Buck?” You spoke quietly, not completely aware of the situation at hand. “Don’t move, try and keep still.” He tried to remain as calm as he could, he didn’t want to scare you any more, he was terrified himself. Eddie ran right over to the car, his heart racing as he feared what he would find. His first instinct was to check the back seat, relief finally washing over him as he saw no sign of Christopher. Still, he needed to make sure, “Y/N, was Chris in the car?” 

You shook your head, “Carlas.” Eddie felt a weight off his shoulders, knowing his son was safe. The weight soon came back when he saw the condition you were in. Your eyes rolled back, and you fell into unconsciousness. Bobby was running the scene, assigning Hen and Chim to medically assist you, and he grabbed the gear to support Buck and Eddie in freeing you from the car. Buck didn’t want to let go of your hand, but he knew he had to in order to get you out sooner. The team worked tirelessly, ensuring to be as careful as possible. Bobby handed the halligan to Buck, “Buck, you focus on getting the doors open. Diaz, grab the saw and be on standby.” 

Buck groaned as he tried to pry the doors open, with no results, “Roofs too dented Cap, I can’t get it open.” Bobby nodded, and turned to Eddie, “Saws it is. Get in there Diaz, Buck, you too.” The roof was off in no time, Hen and Chim jumped straight in and equipped you with a neck brace, and got the back board in place to move you. Hen checked your vitals quickly, trying to make sure you were steady enough to be moved. “I’ve got a faint pulse, we gotta move.” They moved you out of you car quickly, and transferred you to the ambulance. “Trauma to the abdomen, possible internal bleeding. I’ll let the hospital know we’re en route.” Buck jumps into the back of the ambulance with Chimney, and instantly takes your hand in his. Hen places herself into the drivers seat, putting the ambulance into 911 mode and begins the journey as fast as she can to the nearest hospital. 

Buck hated seeing you like this. He was filled with anxiety, the nausea constantly there as he studied your visible injuries. His heart sank with every second that went by, the more he thought about you laying there almost lifeless, expecting you to flatline any second now. “I’m sorry baby, we can’t leave things like this. I need you to get through this so I can apologise to you. I know I’m not the easiest person to love, and I also know that I’m the biggest pain in the ass, but I love you, and I need you. Please.” Buck sobbed as he held your hand tighter. Time seemed to be going extremely slow for Buck, yet moments later Hen was pulling up at the hospital. You were rushed in, Hen spewed all your information to the nurses as you were wheeled in and handed over. Buck, Hen and Chimney stood there as you were wheeled out of sight. One of the nurses stopped Buck from running after you, and he sat defeated in the waiting room. The rest of the team arrived soon after, Eddies face was similar to Bucks. Eddie spoke first, “Any update?” The lack of response from Buck had him on edge, fearing the worst. Luckily, Chimney filled the silence. “There’s no update, but no news it almost always good news.” 

Eddie placed his hand on Bucks shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before sitting down next to him. “How’re you holding up?” Buck didn’t look up, instead he kept his head in his hands. He couldn’t respond, he couldn’t trust his voice not to give out. His leg bounced anxiously, and despite not talking, his feelings were painfully obvious. Eddie could empathise, he knew exactly what was going through Bucks mind. It was happening to him too, but he concealed it as much as he could, knowing Buck needed him. “You know, each time we’re sat in these chairs, it never gets easier. You don’t have to talk, I get it. I think you should know that I’m right here for you, I understand. Y/N is going to be okay, that I have no doubt about. She’s my sister, and us Diaz’s, we don’t back down. We fight.” Eddie continues talking, and he’s not sure whether he’s trying to convince Buck or himself. 

A few hours go by, and the team are waiting as patiently as they can for an update. Maddie had arrived some time ago, and was sat with Buck. She was not only there to support her brother, but also her brothers girlfriend, who Maddie had claimed as her best friend shortly after meeting her. Bobby hands a coffee to Buck and Eddie, who hadn’t moved from their seats since arriving. This changed moments later as a nurse approached, making them stand. Buck felt as if his legs were going to give way any second. The nurse cleared her throat, “She’s stable. She’s incredibly lucky to have made it out with the injuries she did, it could’ve been a lot worse. She’s awake, if you’d like to go see her.” 

Buck didn’t stick around to hear whatever else the nurse had to say, he darted through the corridor until he got to your room. He stopped to take a deep breath, and stepped inside. He was scared to look at you, all he could picture was you covered in blood still. His head shot up as he heard a voice, your voice to be exact, “Buck?” 

He was by your bedside in a blink of an eye, taking your hand in his. His eyes wandered over your body, taking in each of your injuries. His heart broke a little more with each one. He finally looked you in the eyes, and that’s when it hit him. His eyes filled up with tears, “Y/N…”

“Hey, don’t cry. I’m fine, see. I’m right here.” You gave his hand a squeeze, trying to give him the reassurance he needed. Buck took a seat close to your bed, your hand in his and against his lips. You move your hand up to his cheek and wipe his tears, Buck practically melted into your touch. “I really thought I had lost you.” 

“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I need to apologise for my reaction earlier, that could’ve been our last conversation earlier and left without saying goodbye, or telling you how much I love you.” 

Buck shook his head, “You have nothing to apologise for, I’m the one that owes you an apology. I’m sorry that I’m not more careful when I’m out on a call, I shouldn’t be that reckless. I’m sorry that I can’t promise to walk through that door every night, safe and unscathed. I can appreciate how you feel now, and I promise I’ll try my hardest to be more careful. I love you, and I don’t want you ever feeling anything close to what I’ve felt today.” You wince as you sit up, making Buck panic. You push through the pain, and pull Buck to you. “Come here.” He stands from his chair and leans down to kiss you quickly. He carefully moves your hair from your face, ensuring he doesn’t touch any of your cuts or bruises. 

“I love you too, and even though I’m petrified that you won’t make it home one day, I trust that you’ll try everything in your power to make sure you do. I’m proud of you, Evan.” As you spoke, Buck smiled to himself. A sense of relief washed over him. Before he could respond, you continued. “So… does this mean I can finally get a new car now?” 

Buck chuckled, “You’re a pain in the ass, Diaz.” 

“Takes one to know one, Buck.”

A/N: So, I think I rewrote this like 10 times. Its been a while since I've done any writing, so please bare with me while I figure out my writing style again. Any criticism is welcome, I appreciate the feedback.

[sleepyhutcherson]

whiplash smile

where billy surprises you with a clean house, flowers, and a… meal.

pairing: billy (burn, 2019) x gn!reader

word count: 1.6k

contains: (request) smoking, established relationship, fluff, reader is having a rough week, billy tries to cook…

a/n: first time writing for billy <3 thank you for the request anon!! >ᴗ< ive been so obsessed with billy aaa. title inspired by billy idol’s album idk i feel like billy would listen to him lol.

You were having a tough week due to some family issues, Billy picked up the way your mood dropped and decided to do something nice for you while you were away for a few hours.

After dealing with your family for nearly three whole hours you return home completely exhausted, wanting nothing more but to be in your boyfriend's presence. You barely stick the key into the door when the door swings open, the man you so desperately craved standing on the other side.

“Hey, beautiful,” Billy greets with a grin, cigarette between his lips moving up and down at his muffled words. He opens the door enough for you to slip inside your shared home.

The house is clean which is a bit of a surprise. Before you left there was a mess: clothing pieces scattered in different areas of the house, several beer bottles and caps on the table along with other things. You weren’t usually untidy, you liked to keep the house well maintained but your issues with your family just brought you to a low.

“You cleaned the house?” You ask, taking off your coat and hanging it on the rack, slipping off your shoes next and setting them besides Billy’s boots. You were a little surprised honestly, Billy wasn’t the best at picking up, but you were impressed with his word and grateful for his effort.

“Yeah.” Billy replies, with a cocky look on his face. You can hear a familiar tune play softly in the background, you recognise it as one of Billy’s favourite songs. “What? No ‘thank you’? ‘You’re the best boyfriend ever’?” He asks, bringing your attention back to him.

You realise you haven’t said thank you now that he’s mentioned it. You move towards your boyfriend, who immediately puts his cigarette out knowing your next move, and cup his face, his hands moving to your hips to keep you close. “Thank you, you’re the best boyfriend ever.” You say through a smile, mocking his words.

Billy rolls his eyes playfully, pulling you closer to him. “Oh, is that how it is then?” He asks, cocking a brow, his hands travelling up to your waist. He loves to have your hands on his face, it’s oddly comforting to him. He leans down to kiss you, pressing his body up against yours. Your lips are familiar with each other, the kiss almost some kind of reflex.

For the first time ever he pulls away first. “I missed you,” he says, your noses brushing up. “Bad day?” He asks, his thumb stroking your sides where his hands still remain.

“Yeah,” you sigh, but you really don’t want to talk about it; you don’t even want to think about it either, right now you just need him. “But I don’t want to talk about it, is that okay?”

“Of course.” He kisses your lips again, a small pure kiss, your lips brushing against each other softly for a second. “Hey, stay here, I have something for you.” He makes his way towards the kitchen with a pace that tells you he’s clearly excited to show you whatever he has for you.

When he returns he has a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers in his hands, the colours bright, your eyes softening at the sight of Billy carrying them towards you. He was a complete softy on the inside despite how much he denied it.

“Oh, they’re beautiful!” You gush, taking them once he hands them to you, a soft smile plastered on his face, happy about your reaction. How was this the same man that blew up that gas station?

“Aren’t they? They reminded me of you.” You meet his pretty eyes, he never fails to win your heart, he always knows how to make you feel better.

You set the flowers aside and embrace the man in front of you. He was truly the best boyfriend—you weren’t mocking his words anymore. “Thank you,” you say, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, his stubble tickling you just a bit. You give him a peck on his neck before pulling away.

“Oh, that’s not it, sweetheart. I made you dinner.” He grins and your brows furrow—-Billy knew how to cook?!

Billy had never tried to cook before but he knew how to use the stove so he thought why not? How hard could it really be? He burnt himself several times but hey, the food he prepared was not burnt! That was surely a plus. Who knew if it was good, he didn’t taste it he hoped for your opinion first.

“You made dinner?” You question as Billy leads you to the kitchen where you see a pot on the stove that is definitely too small for the amount of spaghetti he made, the noodles and sauce overflowing, the pot and stove stained with the red sauce.

“I made spaghetti,” he says, his eyes searching for your reaction. “It’s not anything fancy… but I just wanted to make you something…” he mumbles coyly, feeling suddenly very needy for your approval. Actually, he always craved your approval and he partially hated that because he had never needed praise from anyone before but now he needs it from you at all times.

You smile enthusiastically. Sure the kitchen was a bit of a mess now but he very obviously tried his absolute best. He did this for you and that was enough to make you happy. “No, don’t worry, it’s perfect, baby.” You assure, looking up at him, meeting his worrying eyes. “Thank you, Billy. You really didn’t have to.”

He smiles, his worry suddenly cleared up once he heard your words. “Well, you deserve it.”

You kiss his cheek with a gentle smile. Thank fuck for wannabe cowboys like Billy, right? “Let’s eat then?”

Billy tells you to sit at the dining table insisting to serve you. You agree knowing Billy really wanted to do this for you and sit down at your small dining table. He pokes his head out of the kitchen then. “Do you want Coke or Pepsi? I wasn’t sure which you preferred while I was at the grocery store so I just bought you both.”

You blush at that and you feel sort of silly for doing so but it warmed your heart that Billy could be so thoughtful. “Pepsi is fine,” you say through a flustered smile. He nods, a cheeky smile on his face taking notice of the pink that tints your cheeks, before returning back to the kitchen.

He joins you at the table with two plates of spaghetti, a glass of Pepsi with ice and a bottle of beer for him. You notice when he sets the plate down how stiff the noodles look, like they haven’t been cooked long enough, but of course you don’t say anything.

Billy watches you, eager for you to eat his food. He spent time making this meal for you and he really hoped you liked it. He watches you pick up a bit of noodles with your fork, you stare at it for a moment, you smile at him and shove the forkful of noodles into your mouth.

It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either but…it was the thought that counted, right? The noodles were a little hard, not cooked right, and you could tell Billy hadn’t put any seasoning in it but…it was his first time cooking and he seemed proud of his work.

Once you swallow his food, you smile effusively at him. “It’s delicious! You did really well for it being your first time.” Billy felt pretty good hearing your words but honestly he was a little surprised, had he managed to make something good without following a recipe?

He takes a bite himself expecting his food to be delicious, like you said and the moment the food hits his taste buds his face scrunches up in disgust and it’s honestly adorable. He looks at you, brows furrowed, his mouth stuffed, the corners stained with sauce. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction and he spits his food out onto his plate.

“That is not delicious,” he tries to put on an angry expression but the corners of his lips twitch up. Eventually, he breaks into a smile, your laughter and smile winning him over. “How the fuck did you swallow that?” He asks, laughing a little now himself.

“It’s not too bad!” You insist, your cheeks hurting now by how much you were laughing.

Billy reaches for his napkin, wiping his mouth before taking a sip of his beer wanting to get rid of the taste of his own food. “That was horrible,” he says, setting his bottle down. “You could’ve told me before I took a bite, you little liar.”

You smile softly, your hand reaching over for him across the table. Your hands brush, his hands callous but warm against yours. “But you seemed so proud of your work.”

Billy chuckles. “But it was horrible, baby.” He tugs at your hand a little and you stand up, and like that he pulls you over to sit on his lap, your meals now ignored. You look down at Billy, your hands on his jaw, his eyes sparkling as he stares up at you. “But thank you for not being mean.”

You stroke his cheek with your thumb, his hands on your waist again, holding onto you. “I’ll help you with dinner next time, okay?” You say, and he nods, a soft smile on his lips.

“Okay.” He mumbles with a dreamy look, mesmerised by the sight of you. He loved to have you like this, on his lap, your hands on his face. “You’re perfect.” He whispers, and you respond with a kiss, the best response he could ask for.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

❛ keep it. it looks better on you. ❜ tasm peter 👀👀👀

With summer right around the corner, you’ve stopped listening to news stations and weathermen and starting listening to your heart when it comes to the forecast for the day. In your mind, it will always be sunny and warm, and maybe the longer you continue to dress for that weather, the more the universe will get the hint and finally turn spring into summer after the everlasting winter you’d had.

“It’s supposed to get cold again today,” Peter warns when he sees your bare legs and arms as you meet him on the steps of your building, the crooked smile on his face enough to surpass the sun. Ever since you stopped listening to professionals, Peter’s taken it upon himself to be your own professional meteorologist, keeping you up to date on all forecasts. Most of the time, you humor him and grab a coat.

“I’ve decided it’s summer,” you say as you descend the last few concrete steps, making it clear that you don’t intend to go back up and change, even though you’re already a bit chilly with the breeze. Still, it’s too late in the year for you to keep bundling up every time you leave your house, so you’ll just grin and bear it and let Peter say ‘I told you so’ when the time comes.

That time comes much sooner than you’d like, the wind picking up and the sun hiding behind the clouds as you and Peter walk through the park near your building following lunch, too broke to pay to get in anywhere and too restless to go inside. You’ve got your arms wrapped around your middle, one on top of the other to keep you as warm as possible, and your teeth are so close to chattering you can barely focus on the story Peter’s telling you of his disastrous attempt to surprise May.

It all happens so fluidly, you don’t fully realize what’s happened until it’s over. Still in the middle of his story and tilting his head to look over at you every so often, Peter unzips his hoodie and shrugs it off before draping it over your shoulders, and your body responds before your brain can process and slides your arms into the sleeves. It’s long on you, perfect for Peter’s lanky frame, and the hem brushes against your bare thighs as you walk, but you’re so blessedly warm you can barely think of the implications.

Peter doesn’t seem bothered by the cold at all, hands stuffed in his pockets and his deceptively strong biceps on display in his t-shirt as he keeps telling his story like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. Your brain is still in a spiral, and you can’t focus on anything other than the fact that you’re wearing Peter’s hoodie, and it’s soft and warm and smells like him, and you have to stop yourself from tucking your nose in and inhaling.

The sun soon makes its return, glinting through the trees and illuminating Peter’s profile that you’re fully convinced he’s an angel, even though you’ve had your suspicions before. As the sun warms the air, you go to slip your arms back out of the hoodie and hand it back to Peter, but he’s already stopping you with gentle hands, pulling the sweatshirt back into place on your shoulders.

“Keep it, it looks better on you,” he tells you, accompanied by one of those signature Peter smiles that always makes your heart stop, and paired with what he just said you’re certain you’ll drop dead on the spot. He just tilts his head, still grinning, still framed by the sun like he’s emitting his own light, and then he just goes on walking, as if he doesn’t know the effect he has on you.

Luckily, your legs manage to work as your brain struggles to keep up, running into overdrive as it starts and sputters like an old car over what just happened. Peter keeps glancing over at you, like he expects something of you, but he continues with that innocent expression that leaves you baffled because he has to know the effect he has on you, with his gentle touches and soft smiles and beautiful voice. He slips his hands from his pockets, swinging them by his side as he walks and brushing against your knuckles, and now you're certain: Peter Parker will be the death of you.

[pullhisteeth]

wise words | eddie munson

summary Eddie f*cked up (royally) and has to work his ass off to get you back. based on a swift song obviously [4k]

contains 18+! fem!reader, a bit of fuckboy!eddie, angst, arguing, grovelling, hurt/comfort, crying, eventual fluff, suggestive themes/allusions to smut, Robin and Steve being disappointed but supportive pseudo-parents

-

He’s standing on your doorstep.

He’s standing on your doorstep and he’s shaking. Like a fucking leaf.

He looks down at the flowers wrapped in cellophane and thinks, are they good enough?

Am I good enough?

Will anything ever be good enough?

Thick drops of rainwater run down the plastic and coat the pink petals and he resolves that no, they’re not good enough.

He knocked twenty-three seconds ago. He knows this because he’s counting, keeping himself grounded.

Twenty-four Mississippi.

Twenty-five Mississippi.

Twenty-six Miss-

The door swings open quickly, almost impatiently, as though there wasn’t nearly half a minute between the knock and the response.

He looks up and when his eyes meet yours he knows for sure this time that this was a bad idea.

“Are you insane?” you ask him. Concern cuts through the irritation, leaving those creases by your eyebrows he’s so familiar with.

He doesn’t respond, his mind elsewhere. He’s desperately trying to pull it back but it’s running fast, back to yesterday evening.

-

“Eddie, seriously,” Robin says, impatient, “you have to do something. This is getting ridiculous, and besides, she’s crazy about you, even if you did royally fuck up, and- Hey!”

“What Rob means to say,” Steve interjects, giving her a swift and clean elbow to the ribs, “is that you’ve gotta grovel, man.”

“But it’s been so long,” Eddie whines, running his hands over his face, a pattern he has grown accustomed to over the past few months. A fed-up, miserable routine of lamenting his deepest regrets to his patient but equally-as-fed-up friends over beers on the nights you’re too busy to join them. “I can’t- I don’t know what I’d say.”

“Here,” Robin says, laying her palms flat on the table, fingers splayed. She pushes herself up, weight on her hands, and leans over Eddie. He stares up at her from behind his own fingers and winces quietly. “You love her, right?”

“Yes,” he responds, voice muffled under the heels of his hands.

“And she loves you-”

“Does she?”

“-and we know this because we’re her friends.”

Eddie’s eyes flit to Steve, whose face is drooping with sympathy. Anyone who has been on the receiving end of a Robin Buckley lecture knows the feeling, and he has had his fair share.

“So what you gotta do,” she continues, dipping her head to regain his attention, “is apologise.”

“I tried that-”

“Properly.”

At this he gives in, huffing a sigh and dropping his arms to fold in front of him, quickly enough to catch his head as it drops to the table like an anvil. He hears Robin return to her seat, and then feels gracious fingers on his elbow.

“Eds, man, it’s gonna be fine. You’ve just gotta fight for it.” It’s Steve, being soft as ever, so desperate to see his two friends happy that he’ll relinquish himself to his affectionate side.

“I want to,” he says, voice muffled again by the denim of his jacket sleeves. “But she deserves better than me.”

“Tell her that,” Robin suggests, voice far softer now. “Tell her you miss her, it’s been a long time, and that you were scared.”

She’s clever, Eddie thinks, pulling that gem out from the archives. On a particularly bad night, maybe two months after it had happened, he’d admitted to them the truth at the heart of all of this: he’s a scared boy, one who resolved while young that he would never fall in love, never let the walls down, for fear that he’d have to endure loss any more than was necessary. Your love had driven him mad and fear had driven him away, and now he avoids three diners and nearly all of the gas stations across Hawkins, schedules doctors appointments at the most inconvenient times and definitely never steps foot in the movie theatre downtown.

“She’ll come around,” Robin tells him kindly. When he lifts his head, eyes regretfully filling with that hopeful spark, she says, “She’s mad, don’t get me wrong. But she’ll come around. You just have some work to do.”

“And for what it’s worth,” Steve says in a cadence that worries Eddie enough to make him lift his head back up again, looking at Steve’s stern expression, “she does deserve better than you.”

“Stop, Steve, seriously-”

“She deserves better than you if you can’t find the fucking courage to go get her back.”

-

Now, standing on your front doorstep, looking at you for the first time in half a year, Eddie knows Steve was right. He doesn’t have the balls to do this; he’s too afraid of rejection, and more specifically rejection from you, and this was a bad idea. You deserve better.

He barely notices when you step one pace to the left, and when you speak your voice sounds like it’s coming from the other side of a thick wall.

“You’re gonna get hypothermia if you stay out there.”

He moves without thinking too hard, because you’re right - it’s cold as fuck out here and he’s grateful for the humming warmth he can feel coming from inside your home.

“Just stay there, I’m gonna get some towels.”

He feels pathetic, standing in your hallway, dripping wet like a fucking dog, gripping so hard onto the flowers that his knuckles are turning white. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, afraid of getting anything in your house wet, but acutely aware of how stupid he must look.

You come back around the corner with two big bath towels in your arms. They’re white and Eddie feels the burning shame of ruining them but says nothing, remaining tight-lipped and letting you clean up the floor. When your fingers curl around his tense ones he stares at you, at the strange, unreadable look on your face, and feels the jolt of a thousand volts carry down his fingers and into his shoulder. Where your fingers made contact you leave a sensation not unlike carpet burn.

“These are pretty,” you tell him, gently pulling the flowers from his grip. The cellophane crinkles and it slowly brings him back to this, to you, and he nearly chokes on air.

He says your name, a pathetic sound followed by even more pathetic noises, and when you smile, tight-lipped just like him and brows turned down, he cracks, voice failing him as he stumbles.

“Get your boots off and meet me in the kitchen,” you say, your face unreadable as ever as you turn on your heels and step back through the open door he knows well. 

You leave him bewildered, like a soldier in the wake of a bomb, but he eventually comes to and does as you say. He debates leaving them outside, to cause you the least bother possible, but decides instead to leave them on one of the towels by the door.

His socks are soggy, slipping on the hardwood as he treads softly through your home. The reaction his gut is having to being here is ugly, so he breathes in slowly through his nose and wipes rainwater off his cheek with the back of his hand.

You’ve got your back to him, standing over the sink. At first he thinks you’re sorting the flowers, the way you always do - wrapping off, stalks trimmed, vase filled - but then he sees that, instead, you’re gripping the porcelain. White-knuckled.

For the first time he gets a look at you, or the back of you at least, because he’s pretty sure you haven’t heard him come around the corner. You’re much the same as before, except for the way you’ve cut your hair, and the fact that he remembers you in pretty sundresses and tennis shoes but it’s December, so you’re bundled in a jumper and sweats.

“I, uh-” He stammers, words catching on the edges of his teeth. He says your name again and watches you flinch. “It’s- It’s been so long, I-”

“Yeah,” you breathe, shoulders relaxing and grip loosening. You turn and lean back on the sink with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Just so you know,” he starts, and he can feel it, the fucking sarcastic tone that he can’t seem to shake. It comes out whenever he has to be genuine and it’s like someone else somewhere is pushing his buttons, controlling what comes out of his mouth. “-it’s been the, uh, the longest six months I think... ever.”

You look at him, more than familiar with this tone and this game. 

“Yeah,” you say again.

“I don’t really know how to-”

“Eddie,” you bite, words like venom. “Can I ask you a question?”

As he nods his head, a little bemused, you gesture to the kitchen table. He catches on and sits at the chair closest to the door as you mirror him on the chair opposite.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

You rest your crossed arms on the table and lean on them, peering at him.

He breathes in slowly.

“To apologise.”

You scoff and he flinches, recoiling at the sound.

“And how’s this one gonna be different to the other hundred apologies?” You spit the word, as though it bears no meaning. At this point, and when it comes to Eddie, it almost doesn't.

That’s fair, he thinks.

-

“You are such a fucking jackass, Eddie Munson,” Robin barks, raising her arms in defeat. She’s pacing the aisles of Family Video while he sits on the counter and Steve loiters behind it, sorting tapes. “A jackass, seriously!”

“I get it, Rob, thanks,” he drones.

“No,” she snaps, feet finally finished being aimless and instead marching her over to him. She stands somewhere close to between his knees and if it weren’t Robin and she weren’t about to grill him for all he’s worth, it might be endearing.

She jabs her index finger into his chest, straight to the centre of his sternum.

“You’re a piece of shit. An asshole. A douchebag. And I’m allowed to call you all of these things because it’s me who gets the phone calls at two in the morning when she’s crying over you. Again.”

He drops his gaze, his hair covering her wrist and his face.

“Why’d you do it, dude?” Steve asks from behind him. “Like… I just don’t see the… Goal, or whatever.”

Eddie groans and tips his head back, staring uncomfortably at the ceiling tiles.

He wonders for a brief moment, before answering, why the two of them are still friends with him. Clearly his end goal is being as inaccessible as possible, keeping everyone at such a far distance at all times that he can never feel remorse, or that he’s letting anyone down. But now he’s here, with his friends, and he’s let them down and, worst of all, let you down, too. More than ever.

“I was trying to make it better,” he says, and the jab to the sternum comes harder this time, and is the full brunt of Robin’s fist rather than her finger.

“That is bullshit,” she says.

“I was!” he maintains, exasperated. “I just… I started trying to explain myself and I just couldn’t tell the truth.”

“So instead you told her you never want to see her again?!”

“I-”

“How does that help literally anything?!”

Robin’s right, of course. She’s always right; too smart for her own good, Eddie’s always thought. But he doesn’t have an answer for her.

“She’s better off that way anyway,” he says, sighing.

-

He blinks at you, studying your stern expression, before answering.

“I wanna be honest with you,” he begins, “like, actually this time. And I know it’s been ages and that I have been…”

“Awful,” you suggest.

“Yeah, awful-”

“An asshole. The worst. Evil. Cruel. Mean.”

“Right,” he says, nodding limply. “Yeah. That.”

You lean back, arms still crossed like armour.

“I want to get this right,” he admits, surprising himself, “and I’m trying to work out how.”

You also seem taken aback by this, brows raising just a bit, your eyes going wide. You don’t say anything, though.

“I want you to know how sorry I am,” he continues. He’s sitting rigid in his seat and can’t find something to occupy his fingers, so he begins twisting a ring around one of them. “But, like, I don’t know how to get that across… The flowers were, uh, step one, and this is step two… I, uh…”

He’s stumbling again, searching for the words in a sea of insecurity and unsteadiness. You wait, sitting still and breathing shallow.

“I think I- I was scared.”

“Of what?” you ask, taking him by surprise. He was expecting a vast silence that he would have to fill with pleas, excuses, sorries and truths. He thought you’d leave him to it and let him down slowly at the end.

“Uh, of you. Of us, I guess.”

“What?”

He leans forward finally, dropping his head into his hands. “I don’t know how to-”

“Try,” you say flatly.

He looks up at you, unsure.

“Try to explain it. You haven’t even tried.”

Deep, heavy breath in.

-

“Eddie, you can’t, I don’t-”

“Fucking stop it,” he bites, arrowhead words ripping you open.

“I don’t understand,” you try again, voice thick with tears and your throat closing in. In fact, everything is closing in.

He’s leaving.

“Exactly,” he spits, pulling his shirt on. “Just… I’m going.”

“But-”

He’s out of the door, jacket in arm, before you can protest any further. Your mind is racing, spinning out in search of something that you could have done to fix this, or else something you could have done to cause this.

But you’re coming up empty, because you’d spent the day the same as any other day this summer: in your bed, entwined, wayward fingers and lazy kisses. Sweet nothings splashed in whispers across bare skin, and-

Oh, you think. Oh.

-

“When you said you loved me,” he begins, wincing at his own honesty, “I just… I freaked, it was scary. I… Honestly, the main problem here is that I was fucking scared. I am scared. I don’t know how to… How to love, or whatever… How to do it right and not hurt you, or me, or both of us. I’m useless, it’s why I’ve never bothered before and I knew, even before we started hooking up, that-”

“Hooking up?”

He looks at you, pulling his eyes back from their wandering, to find you bitter and your face contorted in disgust.

“You call that hooking up?”

“I mean- I-”

“If you think we were hooking up, that’s bad enough, Eddie. Hook ups don’t last three months.”

“No,” he sighs. “They don’t. I think I’m… Trying to make myself feel better about it.”

“You don’t deserve that,” you tell him, and though it’s cutting and it should hurt, your voice is so kind so suddenly that he can’t help but lean into it, tugging gently on the hands of care it extends to him. “You left me, after months of stringing me along. I was basically your girlfriend, without the labels or whatever. There isn’t another word for what we were.”

“No,” he agrees, dwelling for a moment too long on those moments of domesticity, the quiet mornings drinking coffee on your front lawn, the afternoons spent hanging the laundry and throwing stray socks at one another. “And that was fucking scary. I was way too scared, when you said you loved me that morning, way too scared to admit what I really, really wanted.”

“Which was?” you ask, arms still firmly crossed.

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs. “You know what I-”

“Say it.”

“You-

“Say it.”

He breathes, defeated, and looks at you dead in the eye.

“I love you,” he tells you. “I loved you then, and I love you now, and I have no idea what to do about it.”

You deflate, your arms going lax, face surprised as though you didn’t expect him to actually do it, to rise to your challenge and be honest. For a flash, he feels smug, but then he remembers-

“I love you,” he repeats - the feeling of the words rolling off his tongue is unbearable, they’re too heavy, they won’t stop falling - “but you deserve better than me.”

You breathe sharply through your nose in frustration.

“Why are you here then?”

“What?”

“If I deserve better than you,” you repeat, finally releasing the tightness of your crossed arms and planting your palms on your knees, “why are you here? To torture me? Not satisfied with the last six fucking months, huh?”

“No, I-”

“Well, Eddie-” You spit his name like it’s gone bad and it twists something inside him. “-I’m fucking fed up of you and your… How mean you are. You’re always so mean to me and I hate that I cried over you for weeks-”

-

The door swings open and Robin rushes inside, expression tight with fear and worry.

She calls your name in a tone that drips affection as she rounds on you, where you’re standing with your weight on the wall and a hand over your face. By now it’s puffy and uncomfortable, your cheeks raw from wiping them with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“What happened?” she asks, holding you like you’re about to break and moving you across your house to the couch. “Did you argue? Or-”

“He left, Robs. Just left.” You sigh and it heaves like you’re sat under a crate of bricks. Robin’s heart aches, nearly cracks in two at the sight of you and the fury she feels for her stupid, good-for-nothing metalhead friend.

“Oh, honey,” she coos, wrapping you up in strong arms. As she rocks you, you cry, and she kisses the crown of your head and tells you, without much belief in it herself, that it’ll be okay.

“Steve’s on his way,” she says after ten or fifteen minutes.

“It’s okay, I’m-”

“We’re gonna stay here,” she says quickly, “just for tonight.”

You look at her, eyes glassy, and as you speak your voice cracks. “I love him, Rob.”

She looks back at you sadly, fingers gripping your hands. “I know.”

-

You’re on your feet now, pacing back and forth and he’s watching, transfixed, as your shoulders move up and down, powered by rage, understandably.

“-I cried so much because I had spent weeks working up the courage to say that to you, to admit it to you and to myself because you’re so cold, Eddie. You’re so cold and distant and I still managed to fall in love with you.”

It’s at this point that Eddie’s drifting eye, which is following you back and forth, lands on the cluster of picture frames on your windowsill. He recognises most of them - photos of the group of you, up by the lake or in Chicago, some of your family and others at special occasions. But one of them calls to him loud enough to pull his eye from you completely.

It’s a silly frame he found at the thrift store. It’s hand-painted in gaudy colours, brush strokes in swirls and bursts of yellow and purple and green. And behind the glass is a picture Wayne had taken one day when you were at his trailer, watching movies on the couch.

It’s a polaroid, as most of your photos are, bright cracks of colour and light caused by the window right by his head - his head which is looking straight ahead, big wide grin and happy eyes, and you beside him, hands on one of his thighs, pushing yourself up to kiss his cheek.

It’s only when you stop pacing and, more noticeably, stop talking that he realises anything is wrong. His face is wet and there are new drops of water on the table - not the drying rainwater from his hair, but one or two drips from his jaw.

“Are you crying?” you ask, hands on your hips.

“Huh?” He asks, wiping his face with his wrist. “I, uh… Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just-”

His eyes flicker upwards and past you, to somewhere you follow with your own gaze. It lands on the photo and you start, cheeks flushing warm.

Suddenly, the anger lingering in the room, filling the air and his lungs and almost definitely yours, dissipates. It doesn’t disappear as such - you’re still seething, breathing loudly, but it’s like someone cracked a whip and the dust lifted.

He calls your name and you look at him, wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you earnestly. “I’m really, really sorry.”

You breathe out slowly and he watches your chest deflate as you take a step to sit back down. As you sit he rises, stepping over to you on unsure feet. He’s tentative, waiting - expecting - an adverse reaction.

You watch him as he gets closer and lowers himself to the ground.

“You are not about to-”

“I’m not getting on my knees, if that’s what you’re gonna say,” he says, and his tone is light - too light for his liking, but he catches the twitch in the corner of your mouth and something warm blooms in one of the chambers of his heart.

He squats beside you, resting his weight on one hand on the table. He keeps the other to himself, fingers spread over his bent knee.

“I’m an asshole. In fact, I’ve been all of those things you said, and I don’t think I’ll ever be sorry enough for you. But I… I’ve had all this time, and some… intense conversations with Rob and Steve, and I… I want to try to be sorry enough. Or to just make it up to you, somehow. Because I can’t… It’s too hard, doing all of this without you.”

He knows how this must look, him on the ground, soggy socks and soggier hair, staring at you like a lost puppy. But the way your eyes soften, and the familiar feeling of the brush of your fingertips over the damp skin of his bare wrist, is enough to make him go limp.

“What’d they say?” you ask him, watching your own fingers where they trace aimless strokes.

“Hm?”

“Rob and Steve. What’d they say?”

He laughs lightly, embarrassed.

“Uh, that I’m an asshole. In fact, Rob, she made sure to tell me that multiple times. Basically every time I saw her. And Steve, he… He’s such a good dude, you know? But I… I disappointed them, and myself, and you. I hurt you so bad and I don’t know where to put all this guilt I have.”

Neither of you are looking at one another, but you chuckle, thinking about Robin. Her loyalty makes your head spin. And Steve, with his heart of gold, who held you all those times you cried and fought silently between his anger at Eddie and his love for you.

“I love them,” you whisper, your fingers halting. The pad of your thumb hovers over the protruding joint, stroking it softly until you feel the thrum of his pulse under your own. Your fingers wrap the opposite way, until you’re holding his arm like a bracelet.

You squeeze and he sucks a quick breath in.

“You really hurt me, Eddie,” you tell him, lifting his arm off the table. He wobbles and uses his free hand to steady himself on your chair, the knuckle of his thumb meeting the side of your thigh for just a second. You manoeuvre his hand into your lap, where you lay it flat. You both stare at it and all he can hear is your breathing and the rush of blood past his ears.

“I know I did,” he says. “I can go, if you want.”

You hum and begin tracing the lines on his palm. “It’s gonna take a while,” you say.

“What is?”

“Making it up to me.”

His eyes move without permission to your face, where he finds a barely-there smile and the beginnings of the crows feet by your eyes.

“Forever,” he says, knowing you’re right - it’ll take a long, long time.

“Forever.”

“I must’ve been crazy,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Hm?”

Your fingers are still now, resting on his, and he finally moves his own. His knees are burning from squatting and the balls of his feet are digging into something sharp under the linoleum, but he’s not thinking too hard about any of it. He takes your hands in his and holds them, backs of your palms to the front of his. He dips his head and kisses your left wrist and then your right, lingering to feel the thump of your heart.

“I am crazy,” he says. “I let you go.”

“You left me,” you correct him. “I never wanted to go.”

He looks up at you and pales when he sees the tears. Your eyes are wet and red round the edges and he thinks to himself that you’ve been doing this, crying over him, for six months. And it’s his fault.

The two of you move quickly and without thought. His knees buckle, giving into the strain he’s been putting on them for so long, and as he hits the floor he tightens his grip on you without meaning to. You’re pulled off your chair with a yelp and a clatter, landing in his lap with your knee dangerously close to his crotch.

Hands paw and wipe tears and you lift your leg to plant it beside him. As you stabilise yourself his arms come around you, too quickly at first; so quick he worries you’ll push him off, tell him to go fuck himself. They’re met by yours, though, coming around his back.

“I’m sorry,” he says into your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

You say nothing, and instead push your face further into his shoulder.

He feels and hears you sniffling, so he pulls you back gently. Some of his hair sticks to your face and you wipe your nose unceremoniously with the back of your hand, scoffing at him when you see he’s smiling at you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you tell him, looking away.

“Like what?”

“Like… That.”

“I don’t-”

“You have that look,” you say, groaning. And then you reach up to hold his face, and he caves, bowing into you in every way he can. “You’re so fucking pretty and it’s the worst.”

“You’re one to talk,” he tells you, enjoying the way you flush.

“Always the charmer.”

“It’s true,” he says. “Never seen anyone as pretty as you.”

He leans into your palm and twists just so, lips brushing the heel of it in a quick kiss.

“Flattery won’t get you out of this,” you tell him, your smile deceiving you only slightly.

“I know,” he says. “But it might help me.”

You’ve been inching closer to his face, and now you’re all he sees. You’ve taken up his field of vision, your breath brushing past the end of his nose.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Wow,” you laugh, “Steve taught you how to be a gentleman since I last saw you or somethin’?”

“Stop- You’re ruining this.”

“Sorry,” you say, still laughing. “You were just never the kind to be so… chivalrous.”

“I’m hardly being chivalrous,” he says, matching your smile. “But now you mention it, yeah, actually.”

You lean back only slightly but it’s enough to make him deflate, unhappy at the new distance.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean… I was an asshole, as we’ve established. Needed to learn my manners again.”

“What did he say?”

“Can we please talk about this later? I just wanna-”

“No,” you say, grinning now. “I want to know.”

He groans, the hand he has spread across your back to hold you up tensing.

“I dunno, he just… He really did a number on me, y’know, telling me how I did everythin’ wrong and that I…”

He’s gone coy and you’re relishing in it.

“You what?”

“I… Steve called me a fuckboy.”

You bark out a laugh so loud Eddie flinches, but then he watches as you carry on laughing, nearly bent double, eyes all crinkled just the way he likes, the way he’s missed terribly.

“What’s so funny?!”

“It’s true,” you say. “It’s so true! Robin, Steve, I mean, we love you, obviously, you’re our friend, but like… They did say when you and me started, y’know… That I was in for it, that you’d break my heart, and I told them they were crazy ‘cause it was just sex, right? But then I realised maybe it wasn’t just sex, when you basically started living here, and we were more like… I dunno, like a couple… But they were right!”

He looks at you, aghast.

“They told you all of that?”

“Yeah! I mean, they were right, huh?”

“Yeah, I just… I didn’t know it was that bad, that they’d be able to notice that kinda thing.”

“You know,” you say, fingers tapping patterns up his chest. “Steve told me somethin’ else, a few months back.”

“Oh, god,” he groans, mind reeling through the thousands of things this could be.

“It’s not bad,” you say. “Well, it’s not one of the bad things. There were still bad things.”

“Right.”

“He said… He said he’s known you for, what, like three years now? And in all that time, before you and me met, you’d always have different girls, were known as a bit of a player at school…”

“Christ, okay.”

“But after you left me, Steve said he’d never seen you be so… Alone.”

Eddie looks at you in shock, so frightened by what else Steve may have said, but also by how you’re relaying this to him. Calm, stoic, unfeeling.

“I mean… I haven’t, y’know, slept with anyone else, if that’s what you-”

“I know,” you say. “I just… It makes it feel more real, you know?”

“I know I’m gonna be spending the rest of my life making sure you know I’m sorry,” he says, breathing out through his nose slowly, “but I mean it. I’ll do it. For the rest of my life. There isn’t anyone else. I’ll forego women, relationships, whatever… ‘Cause I won’t have time. Will be too busy makin’ it up to you.”

He noses at your neck, trying with everything he has to hold himself back from kissing you. The air around the two of you feels thick with laboured breaths and unsaid things - so many unsaid things, things he’ll tell you one day and other things he’s sure he’ll hear from you.

“So can I?” he murmurs into the warm skin above your collarbone, lips only a hair from making contact.

He feels your fingers come around the back of his neck, taking root at the nape where his hair starts. They curl around it, tugging him up, and then you do the dance - the one that always happened between the two of you in these moments. You dip in, so close, and back out, ebbing like a riverbank. It drives him crazy and he knows that you know it, so he smiles, and it’s only then that you finally kiss him.

As you move against him, lips and hands and chest and thighs, he lets his eyes close and his tongue move with yours, and thinks that this - kissing you - is much better when he’s being honest.

-

[0vergrowngraveyard]

Surprise villain au oneshot

———

It had only been about three months since he took the little fox kit he found on some rich folk’s porch under his wing and Sonic had already heard the little guy apologize to him more times than he could count.

Most of the time it was for no reason, like if the kit dropped something and Sonic looked back at him. Just little things that required no apology but he always got one anyway. The hedgehog always waved it off, telling him that there was nothing he needed to apologize for.

Sometimes, however, it was due to how Sonic himself responded to him.

Sonic tended to experience pretty extreme mood swings, going from practically bouncing off the walls to the bottom of the barrel to being ready to kill someone who looked at him wrong all before a moment's notice. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be pleasant to be around one second and then suddenly snapping at anyone who breathed too loudly the next.

He knew it happened, he just didn’t know what to do about it. It was like he was stuck and could only watch himself slowly fall apart.

And worst of all, he’d begun to snap at Tails.

He didn’t mean to — he didn’t want to scare the little guy away, not when this was the first friend he’d ever had and they’d just started getting closer — but he couldn’t stop himself.

Sometimes the kit’s crime was asking a question at the wrong time or simply talking to him. It’s not like he ever knew when Sonic would suddenly get mad at him, the little guy was just trying to communicate with his new friend and was being punished for it.

Everytime it happened, the fox would get quiet and walk a few steps behind him. He’d only speak when spoken to until something got him excited the next day.

But he never left, he always stayed somewhere behind him and was still there in the morning.

It was a cycle.

They were walking down the street during the later hours of the evening, trying to think of somewhere to settle that night. Today was slow, Sonic usually got their money by pickpocketing off random people and he hadn’t been able to find anyone with more than $5 on them. It’s like all the richer mobians stayed inside today or people were starting to realize that money was being stolen and got smart.

Don’t get him wrong, $5 was great and he’d take it but deep down, some part of him was still used to the lavishness of Eggman’s bases…

They’d made it near the outskirts of Station Square. There’d been nowhere in the city for them to sleep with all the anti-homeless shit they’d been putting up. Spikes on benches, blocking off alleyways, the works. Sometimes, he considered just getting the two of them arrested so they could sleep in the juvenile detention center for the night or two.

But then they’d be separated and Tails could be sent back to his so-called parents.

He didn’t understand why they even bothered to file a missing person report and hung up fliers, they obviously didn’t care about the kid like he did. If they had been good parents, then Sonic wouldn’t have found the kit sitting on a porch in the rain, saying that his parents had kicked him out of the house for the night.

If they didn’t want to take care of their own kid, fine. He’d do it for them.

As they made it to the train station, Sonic put his hands on his hips and hummed. He looked back, “Hey, kid. What do you say we camp out in the Mystic Ruins tonight? Y’know, sleep under the stars and all…that…” His words trailed off as he looked at the kit.

He was holding one of the missing person posters.

Now, you wouldn’t be able to tell he was the kid in the flier unless you squinted and maybe turned the paper on its side. It was a terrible picture and the description said nothing about his twin tails. As long as the kid kept his hood on, he was in the clear.

But that wasn’t the problem.

An indescribable fear gutted him, dread opening up a pit in his stomach as his breath hitched. It was irrational, he knew it was irrational, but that didn't change anything.

“Why do you have that?” He asked

Tails blinked at him and looked back down at the paper, “Oh, uh- I found it yesterday. I meant to throw it away earlier but I forgot-“ The kit tried to explain before Sonic cut him off.

His body moved on autopilot as he snatched the flier right out of the kid’s hand, completely missing the way the kid flinched. Sonic’s gaze narrowed, glaring down at the wide blue eyes now full of fear staring up at him. He looked down at the flier again and ripped it into four pieces with an annoyed tsk.

“Forgot to throw it out, huh? You sure you weren’t just planning on going back to your folks and leaving me in the dust?” He practically spat out.

Tails’ eyes got wider and his breath hitched before he frantically shook his head, tears building in his eyes as they squeezed shut. “No! No, I wasn’t!” He cried out, “Honest!”

Sonic stared at the kit as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his paws to stop any tears from falling in public. Self awareness suddenly barreled into him full force as he remembered that they were, in fact, surrounded by people. He could feel their eyes on him.

He anxiously clenched his fists and turned around, “Good...” he simply said, “Let’s get going.”

The kid nodded and scurried behind him, still willing to follow him.

The train ride was quiet. It was pretty late so that wasn’t too surprising. Sonic looked out the window behind him, watching as the city lights faded into deep greens as they approached their destination.

Instead of leaning against his shoulder as he usually did, Tails sat a little bit away from him, namesakes curled around his legs as he stared at the floor. His ears were down, resting against the back of his head. His eyes were covered by his hood, Sonic could only see the small frown on his muzzle.

He sighed. He could only imagine what his little outburst looked to random people walking by. A thirteen year old scolding a six year old for holding a piece of paper. What a great look.

It’s not like anyone did anything about it anyway. No one ever did anything about it.

“I’m sorry.” The kit mumbled.

“You’re good.” Is what Sonic should’ve said, because it was true. He was all good, he didn’t do anything wrong.

But instead Sonic just hummed, unable to bring himself to speak. He didn’t know if it was embarrassment or if part of him was still unreasonably mad at the kid. He felt his heart break all the same when he saw the kit make himself smaller.

The kid didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve any of this. If Sonic knew what was good for him, he would’ve dropped him off somewhere with nice people who didn’t randomly snap at him and push him away only to love bomb him a day later.

Tails didn’t deserve any of it and yet Sonic couldn’t let him go. He didn’t want to be alone, the thought terrified him.

Eventually, they made camp near a cliff overseeing the ocean in the Mystic Ruins. The stars were shining overhead and the waves crashed against the shore beneath them. The wind rustled the trees and danced with their little campfire that lit up their faces.

Neither had said a word to each other since the train station, but that was normal.

Sonic looked at Tails out of the corner of his eye. The little kid just sat there, his blue eyes were still downcast as the fire’s warm glow reflected off of them. While his ears weren’t pressed against the back of his head anymore, they were still wilted, not quite standing up to full height.

The hedgehog sighed before looking back at the campfire, “You…you weren’t lying back there, were you?” He asked, “About not leaving…you weren’t just saying what I wanted to hear, right?”

Tails shook his head, “I wasn’t lying”

Sonic stayed quiet for a moment and just watched the fire dance, listening to each crackle as his words from earlier echoed in his head.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“It’s okay, Sonic.”

Soon they would go to sleep and wake up the next morning. Everything would go back to how it was. Sonic would spoil the kit as an attempt at an apology and they'd be fine until the next time he lost his temper. Maybe it would take a few days, maybe a few weeks, maybe even a whole month, but it would happen again and the cycle would repeat.

That was their normal.

[atinylittlepain]

Chapter Two

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: dark themes surrounding history of domestic violence, references to physical injury, heavy emotions (hope can also be heavy)

a/n: all i have to say is thank you for reading, and i'd love to hear what you think

......................................

Oh, come child

In a cross bones style

Oh, come child

Come rescue me

'Cause you have seen some

Unbelievable things

Crossbones Style by Cat Power

.....................................

Not comfort. Not exactly ease either. Familiarity maybe. Both of them settling into a routine configured around the other. She likes to help with the animals whenever she can, getting up as early as him, no task too daunting or dragging for her to say no to it. Just the other day she helped him trim back the sheep’s hooves, not even flinching when one of the girls tried to give a jerky kick underneath their ministrations, all shush and soothe in her flicking ears as Joel got the job done. She understands flight and freeze like that, at least in the animals. 

They get done what chores they can in the morning before she has to get changed for work, the requisite light blue dress with the buttons down the front, an apron snug around her waist. She had made a joke about the fucking fifties the first time he saw her in her uniform, surprising him with the quick, crass humor, her half-grin as she got into the passenger seat of his truck. 

He drops her off, heads into town or to the station, whatever needs to be done, and usually is done around lunchtime. He’s supposed to be watching his cholesterol, admonished by the one doctor in town two years in a row now. So he orders a salad with a sigh when he stops into the diner around noon, though Dolores will often tuck a few fries onto the side of his plate, a quiet smile when she sets it down in front of him. Maybe he’s been leaving bigger tips than is appropriate, maybe he made sure that the money in the jar on the counter would be going to her at the end of the day, a quiet conversation with Sal while she was in the back of the kitchen. 

He lingers. Always an endless to-do at home, ignored in this instant, stealing a little extra time sitting at the counter, watching her flit and flicker around the regulars. She’s good with people, big, bright smiles that don’t quite round her eyes, laughs light as air, and as empty too. And he sees the quick slump of her shoulders when the customers aren’t looking, when she’s passing through the swinging door to the kitchen. Turn it on and turn it off. 

But there’s someone new eating lunch at the diner today. One of those climber-backpacker types, all wired-down, tan muscle against shock-white teeth, flicking back his sun-bleached flop of hair, putting on a real show for her when she drops off his burger at his booth. It’d be rude to just keep looking, to turn around on his stool and stare the man down, so he listens instead. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. Can I ask you something?” Like something small and slight being held in a fist, close to breaking or bursting, a cracked chirp of her answer, clearly flustered when she says um, yes, yeah. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a town like this?” That same sound, like she’s trying to make a laugh happen, though it comes out more like a held breath that finally gasps into an exhale. 

“That’s kind of you, but I need to get back to work, excuse me.” 

“Oh come on, where’s that midwestern hospitality you all seem to have?” 

“Do you– can I get you anything else?”

“How about a smile, sweetheart? Just a little one, for me?” For a moment, it’s silent. Joel curls his fingers in a fist, over and over, flex and extend, his back still turned. Something hot and tight closes up in his throat when he hears the man sigh, and then laugh.

“There you go, prettiest thing I’ve seen since I left Denver. I’ll be thinking about you while I’m climbing this afternoon, sweets, thank you for that.” 

“Shouldn’t be climbing in the afternoon.” He says it before he can stop himself, turning around on his stool, a thick flare of hate, maybe meanness, when he sees the uncertain curl of her shoulders and the slanted smile on the man’s face. 

“Excuse me?” The man slings one arm over the back of his booth, body splaying and slumping toward Joel, trying to take up more space than he’s worth. A little bit of preening, a little bit of plumage.

“You’re likely to get yourself caught in a storm up in the mountains this time of year. I’m surprised such an expert man like yourself didn’t know that.” Arrogant, artifice, the man grins, eyes swooping back over Dolores as he picks up his burger with one hand, a wolfish bite that he tucks into the side of his mouth, the slow roll of his jaw as he focuses back on Joel. 

“I don’t mind trying my luck. I usually come out on top. But thanks for the tip, pal, appreciate it.” He takes one more bite, half of his burger gone in two gnashing mouthfuls, all bright white teeth. With that, a quick clap of his hands together, fast heat rubbed between his palms, he pulls out a wad of cash from the front of his pack, leaving a crumpled fistful on the table before he stands with a sigh. 

“Better head out. Thank you for the smile, sweetheart, I’m gonna remember that.” He tucks a smaller fold of bills into the pocket on the front of Dolores’ apron, and Joel can see the way her stomach tenses, curling back from the suggestion of touch. The word no flashes big and battering in Joel’s mind, though there’s nothing to be done, the man already shouldering his pack and sending a slippery slide of a smile his way before he’s swaggering hips-first out the door. 

“You alright?” She doesn’t quite meet his eyes, even when he ducks his head down to try to catch her beneath her lashes. All he gets is a nod and a pointed sniff, and then she sets herself back into motion, ducking into the kitchen to pick up someone else’s order.

Dolores doesn’t like men, something he learned pretty quickly about her. The first time, when they went to the drugstore together and she wilted like a wan flower under Rod’s friendly conversation, that same curling up of her shoulders, that same drop to her eyes. It happened again when she met John one day at the small grocery store in town. She had been smiling, an easy conversation about palisade peaches being in season, quick to fall and fade when Joel introduced her to the man. Even John, with the disposition of a feckless golden retriever, had gotten that same reaction out of her. 

She tolerates the customers at the diner, lots of nervous laughter and quick movement, her sneakers squeaking hard on the chipped linoleum floor. Warm with the few children in town, the women too. But no, she doesn’t like men. All uncertain angles, folding herself up close and tight and away. Honestly, it’s a small miracle she’s softened that snap, that shrink-back around Joel. Comfort in the known, he supposes. He’ll take it. 

“Hey, you alright?” Again, he catches her on her way to another table, a quick flicker of her eyes and a nod, shrugging the trays held in her arms a little closer, already moving again. Softened, but still there, cagey, careful, and now coaxed up to a higher degree by that man, that fucking man. 

Joel leaves soon after, not wanting to corner or crowd her. Back to routine. Back to the barn and the coop and the animals and all the things that must be done around them. Fall inches ever closer, a time that demands preparation. Work that promises completion and satisfaction when done well and right. Not easy, but simple. Maybe he’s careful to keep an eye on his watch, timing his drive back to the diner right before dinner, just as Dolores is stepping out of the storefront, her face furrowed down to the bills she’s counting in her hands. 

“What’s this?” His turn to drop his brow when she gets into the passenger seat and holds out a thick fold of money to him across the console.

“This should cover the clothes, and that drugstore trip you made for me.” He stares at the money, his fingers curling tighter over the steering wheel. That was two weeks ago, nearly three now, and she’s already trying to make even. 

“You don’t– I’m not keeping score. That’s yours.” Fast fall, flustered, a stuttered exhale, not what she expected, not what she wanted, her hand staying suspended between them, shaking the money lightly as if to entice him into taking it.

“But, I can’t. I–” What he’d like to do is reach out too, curl his hand over hers to close her fingers around that money, make it all hers. But she doesn’t like touch, even the accidental kind, something else he has learned. That quick tightness, that smalling if he brushes behind her in the kitchen in the morning, so he doesn’t. If their hands reach for the radio in the car at the same time, little fire passed between fingertips, and then her immediate recoil, so he doesn’t. And he doesn’t now either.

“You don’t have to. I was happy to, no score. That’s your money, Dolores.” Like she just swallowed something bitter, her face scrunching and then slackening as she nods, careful and quiet in settling her hand, and her money, back in her lap. 

“Could I at least help with groceries?” A small compromise, for her to look at him again, if for nothing else. 

“Okay.”

Here is what makes a town. Two blocks proper, a church at one end and a bar at the other. A second hand shop that sits slumped against the post office. A library that gets new books once every two years. A restaurant, the only other one besides the diner, the downstairs of a newly-established bed and breakfast that most of the residents have turned their noses up at. A police station that sits next to the simple steeple of the church, how fitting. And a grocery store, a small one, the nearest safeway a two-hour drive east. Joel had to look up what an IGA was when he first moved here. 

And because everyone knows everyone, a trip to the grocery is never in and out, always getting stopped in the produce aisle, asked after while picking up a gallon of milk. Today, no different. 

“Hey there, you two. Can I expect to see you at the little thing at the bar tonight?” The little thing Patty is referring to is the fact that it’s the end of the month. A peculiar tradition, not a party, just an agreed-upon herding of one another. Joel has thought to himself on multiple occasions that its real purpose is to make sure no one quietly died while people weren’t paying attention, a once-a-month census.

“I don’t know, Patty, maybe I’ll drop by, keep folks from talking too much.” Dolores’ confusion is clear, searching between him and Patty. Why he’s trying to keep this from her, he’s unsure.

“Well, I hope to see the both of you there.” Patty is a particular kind of woman. Here long enough for her word to have some power behind it. She lives above the secondhand shop alone, though Joel knows she has two sons, shown pictures of them, arms slung across her shoulders, that same slanted smile of hers on both of their faces. They don’t visit. And Patty doesn’t seem sad for it. She orders a specific kind of red hair dye once a month, Joel always seeming to catch her at the post office picking up the box with a distinct logo stamped on its side. Nice enough, a little brash maybe, but she’s always been open-armed with him. And she’s been kind to Dolores too. No questions, at least not to her, no staring or stirring, like it makes the most sense in the world that Joel suddenly has a woman staying with him that he has never mentioned before. So she doesn’t press now, leaves it at that, leaves them to the produce aisle, an easy greeting and goodbye. 

“Are you gonna go?” Her hands are deft and discerning, cracking open and peeling back a pale green corn husk, a hoard of it on sale this year, fine silk tassels and that sweet, crisp, smell. 

“Oh, probably not.” He holds open the produce bag for her, a quiet yeah when she asks if four ears is enough. 

“I would go, you know, if you wanted to.”

“Do you want to?” She shrugs, the slight swing of the hem of her dress as she walks alongside him, zucchini and tomatoes.

“Patty seems like the kind of person who’s used to getting her way.” She doesn’t say it mean, only observation as she tucks two tomatoes down in the cart. He can feel a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth.

“She certainly doesn’t like the word no. We could stop by, if that’s alright with you?” 

It is alright, and after dinner, summer spoils sweet and sated, he waits for her on the porch while she changes out of her uniform. It’s getting darker earlier, the sun already cracking and dripping between the mountains, everything hushing down orange and purple. Soon, it will be time for the sheep to spend their nights in the barn, and in the day too, during that deepest, tightest fist of winter. But for now, it’s quiet, save for the dull thrum of all the small, crawling things, air that’s only a relief in its coolness, not a worry. 

“Ready?” Pretty, he thinks. Hasn’t seen that before, he thinks. Crisp white with fine little flowers embroidered along the neckline and the sleeves. The neckline, a new expanse of her sternum on display, the fragile flutter of it when he stares just a beat too long. 

“Uh-huh, yeah.” Ready, dark enough that the headlights need to be flicked on, flooding yellow down the bare brush and scrub along the road. And then the bleeding neon glow of the bar on the edge of town coming into focus. 

Shoes sticking in the syrupy grime of a few decades past, dim lights and a perpetual haze of smoke, something sad and slow drifting in on the jukebox. No pretense, no pretending that folks are here for anything other than getting a little drunk at the end of another day. 

Patty is happy to see the both of them, offering a bottle that Joel accepts, and one that Dolores politely declines, though she still allows herself to be pulled along by the older woman, leaving Joel to make his rounds. The same questions, asked and answered, health and hearth and how are you. Fine, just fine. Except, a little distracted, quick glances over to the bar where Dolores is sitting. Patty still there with her, still getting her to smile, so fine, just fine until the next time he looks over.

Not Patty. Him. Big, bright shark tooth smile, fang and flare. Even more tan, skin tight and taut against quick-jumping muscle, all pumped and puffed out from his afternoon climb. A wiry arm slung around the back of Dolores’ chair, her whole body slanted and steeled toward the side as he leans in, lips pulled back in a sneer of a smile. 

Whoever Joel was talking to, he’s no longer listening, no longer even feigning interest as he watches, trying to piece together whatever that man is saying to her by the way his jaw pulls with each of his words. Waiting, really, for any excuse to step in, to make this wrong right. 

And then, enough, already in motion as he watches the man reach out, the backs of his knuckles brushing against her clavicle before she can jerk away. Gotcha, got you, gonna get you. All the ways the human body can recoil, say no, and all the ways it can refuse to listen.

He doesn’t catch the end of whatever the man is saying, words coming out on a quick bark of laughter that makes Dolores flinch harder, knuckles all curled up in her lap. He doesn’t care to know, a thick wash of no drowning it out. The thing is, Joel can get big, and loud, and mean, so mean. If he needs to. He can roll back his shoulders and set his jaw in a hard grind. He can make a fist and then make contact. He can make a man get small and get gone. But not in front of her. Another body to account for, a shivering down small body, a body that cannot bear any more violence. So he must settle for something else, a quiet heat, an expression on his face that he hopes is no enough.

“Is there a problem?” The man glances over his shoulder, all smile, all teeth.

“Hey, pal. No problem here. I was just telling this pretty thing about the climb I got in, wasn’t I?” He asks it with a duck of his head, trying to steal her gaze that she keeps on her hands in her lap. A habit of hers, the skin around her nails picked and pulled raw, soon to bleed with the way she’s worrying at them now. 

“I don’t think she’d like to hear any more of what you have to say, pal.” A flicker of something animal, the man sucks his teeth, mouth screwed to the side before he sighs. Fire needs fuel, and he’s not getting any, certainly not from her. Something that sounds like not worth it as he sways himself out of the bar. Joel knows this kind well, blown in and out in a day, maybe two. Not a problem, not really, and he won’t let it become one. 

“Thank you.” She gives Joel her eyes, a quick nod as he sits down beside her. Careful distance kept between them, space for her to spread back out, to unfurl, and she does, leaning back in her chair, a quick roll of her shoulders like she’s trying to shake off that shiver.

“I have no patience for people like that. Think they’re hot shit for hiking up a mountain when they’re just a nuisance.” Maybe he said too much, tempering his words with a swig of his beer, though Dolores seems to receive it, turning slightly toward him so he can feel the ghost of her knee brush against his.

“I just don’t like men like that.” He sighs, because what could he say to that? What hasn’t already been said in the slow fade of the bruises on her arms? 

“Drink?”

“Yeah, please.” 

It’s quiet between them for a while, each nursing a beer as the din around them lulls and lifts. He drums his fingers against his thigh, something steady while he tries to work a thick flood of words into something that might make sense, something that won’t make her recoil. 

“Can I ask you about it?” She doesn’t look at him, focused on her thumbnail working the sticker off her bottle. But she does nod, lips pursed, long sigh like she needs to make room for what she’s about to say.

“All of it?”

“If you’re okay with that, yes.”

Yes, she’s okay with that. No, her husband wasn’t always the way he is now. He was kind until he wasn’t. Quiet until he wasn’t. The first time, silly. That’s what she calls it. A silly, stupid thing. The windshield of his car had gotten chipped while she was driving it. And she saw black with the way his hand guided her skull into the wall of their bedroom when she got home. Silly, she says, a wave of her palm like, no big deal, because not the worst of it. His stomach slurs and sickens. 

She was a teacher, her lips curling around the memory like it tastes sweet. And then he told her to stop working. Command, not question. Gave her a careful fold of money each morning, like a child’s allowance, like a leash choked close and tight. What friends she had left told her to leave him, lovely sentiment, with what money? With what, with what, with what?

And then he got a gun. Waved it around like a second dick. A strange swagger, what the weight of such perfect destruction does in a man’s palms, slung on his hip, never far. 

“Did he?”

“Once, right here.” Two fingers pressed to her temple, her eyes unblinking, expressionless. Though it’s gone just as quick, her fingers flexing and curling into a quick fist before settling back in her lap, unmaking memory. 

She left then. With what, with what, with what? Nothing. A book in the passenger seat and a vague conception of the west meaning something like hope.

“You like to read?” Anything else will come out too harsh, too big with anger, so that will have to do. She seems relieved for it, shoulders settling and smoothing.

“Yes, I do.” 

“We can get you a library card, if you want.” 

“I’d like that.” 

…

They go to the library the next day, and the man who works there just seems happy that there’s anyone new to give a library card to in the first place. 

Dolores has already begun reading the first book in the small stack she checked out, quiet in the passenger seat the whole drive home. And later, when he leaves for his overnight shift, she’s on the couch, already halfway finished, lips parted and moving with the page. 

“I’ll see you in the morning then.” Still startled by his voice, quick to shut her book and look at him, and like so many other times, he wishes he hadn’t said anything, had let her stay suspended in that ease.

“Alright, thank you again.” He’s still not very good at accepting that from her, a nod and a shrug of his shoulders, out the door. 

Lately, these shifts have gotten tinged sour. Something anxious, something angry. Waiting, maybe. Willing. Wanting that car to come zipping past him on the black strip of the interstate. Wanting to chase it down. Wanting to do something that he shouldn’t want to do. He’ll come, he thinks. They always do. Men like that won’t give up the thing that makes them feel big so easily. 

For now, Joel hunkers down in the car, radio off, quiet, waiting with all the other languoring animals for something that will sate. He replays what she told him in his mind, lets something dark curl around it, poison thoughts. But he has to ask himself why. All this care, all this concern, and all this anger, why? For a perfect stranger, who’s not really a stranger now. Been living around each other for nearly a month, so no, not a stranger anymore. 

He likes her. An answer both simple and devastating at the same time. And is he just as bad as any other man? Finding a scared thing so very pretty. No, he cannot like her like that. He cannot like her like watching the rise and fall of her sternum, and he cannot like her like stealing glances of her every chance he can get. Because that is the last thing she needs. But care is allowed. Making something wrong the smallest bit right is allowed. A friend, a familiar thing, a comfort. All things he can do for her. 

…

The sun is just starting to heft its golden belly over the mountains when he gets home, pale blue light and mist rising cool and shy in the brush. Usually, at this hour, she will already be up, making breakfast for the both of them that he always feels a bit bashful accepting. 

But it’s quiet in the house this morning, still. Her book rests on one side of the couch, a rumpled blanket beside it. He doesn’t hear the old pipes groaning with the task of running water, the floorboards crackling with the fact of shuffling feet. And he shouldn’t but he does. Panic like a tight fist, like a heavy stone in his gut. 

He knocks on her bedroom door, a quiet call of her name. Nothing. And he shouldn’t, but he does. So careful, so quiet in cracking open the door. Nothing. Bed still made, untouched. She must have spent the whole night on the couch. Why does that make his heart kick and quicken in his chest? The thought of her reading right through the darkness, the singular glow of the lamp tendriling out into the night. 

Not here though. Did she? Could she? Would she? He feels drunk off this reality. But scared things have always been known to flee, haven’t they? To pretend at fragile trust until they find an opportunity to escape. Did she feel like she needed to escape from him? His palm tries to rub that thought out of his chest, real ache, real pain at the idea. 

Fresh air, because his skull is already starting to throb with this. He steps out onto the porch and tries to imagine all the ways this leaving could have been done. He hates every possibility, every phantom flight that he can conjure. But no time to let it sting or steep, because laughter, a sudden, foreign peel of it. Hers, he’s never heard hers before. But there she is, rounding the corner of the coop, a few of the chickens following close on her heels, already their favorite between the two of them. And she’s talking to them, quiet murmurings from behind a smile, another quick burst of brightness. 

“Hey, good morning.” Saying it to him, smiling at him, the biggest, best relief. He joins her, only a little grumble at the way the chickens squawk at his sudden intrusion. 

“You figure out names for them yet?” One eye dropped in a squint in the brash wash of morning light, still smiling.

“I have some ideas, yeah.” 

She’s here, how wonderful. And how awful, how quickly his heart seized and shuttered itself up at the thought of anything else. He can’t think about that too much, what that means. What danger that creates and threads through his ribs. So he focuses instead on breakfast, close in the kitchen, coffee for her with cream and a spoon of sugar, how he has found she likes it, silent sliding it across the counter to her where she’s stirring eggs in the pan. Always a thank you. 

The table in the kitchen is so small that he has to keep his chair scraped back so his knees won’t brush against hers, making space for her to spread out. 

“Thank you, for letting me stay so long. I know it’s not– you’re probably–” She stops herself, a sigh, chin tucked down. He could almost laugh, because here she is thanking him for what he was so afraid she didn’t want. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you’re here, for as long as you’d like to be.” Trying to make it clear that this is not a cage, though the words still feel thick and foolish coming out. She swallows a careful bite of her breakfast, not looking at him, and again, he finds himself bracing for flight.

“I like being here.” 

....................................

taglist: @casssiopeia @eleganthottubfun @anoverwhelmingdin @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @suzmagine @syakhairi @spookyxsam @northernbluess @hier--soir @darkroastjoel @wannab-urs @tieronecrush @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @softlyspector @noisynightmarepoetry @csarab615 @beskarandblasters

[retrodreamgirl]

lacking trust | steve harrington x fem!reader

part one | part two | part three

summary: there's no us in us when i'm lacking trust OR you don't trust steve's intentions with nancy and you finally confront him [1.3k]

warnings: angst, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, fem!reader, language, not proofed, lmk if i missed anything

might do a part 2 if there's any interest

definitely based on emails i can't send by sabrina carpenter

⤜♡→

He looks at her like she hung the moon but to her he’s not even a passing star. 

You’d be an idiot not to notice the longing glances and the smiles that inch just a little closer to the apples of his cheeks when she enters a room or utters a vague phrase in his direction. It pushes you to the brink of manic, knowing you're less important to him than someone who couldn’t even say ‘I love you’. 

It’s become a game, the way you hold your tongue and maintain complacency as his second choice. No matter how well you play, it’s never you who’s winning. Perpetually a consolation prize watching him fall further into spiraling naivete, waiting for the moment he rebuilds the confidence to throw his hat back in the ring. 

It’s pitiful, the half truth of whispered love confessions in the front seat of his car or pressed beneath thin sheets post bliss. And yet, you take every one of them to push further into the hole gaping in the center of the appendage dripping with adoration in the cage of your chest. You take them to nurse between hot tears alone in your bedroom, waiting for him to call and knowing he won’t, assuming he’s found some way to spend the evening with her instead. A sick reminder of your own failure to love, to be able to conceive the intangible emotion as more than something fleeting and convenient.

Your deprecative state only seemed to worsen when Jonathan moved away, the one buffer between Steve and his almost love now cross country and building a life brand new. Leaving not only a window cracked just above the sill for Steve to worm his way beneath but the uncertainty of a high school sweetheart whose only mechanism to cope is building stress in the fashion of extracurriculars. 

She’s unguarded and Steve becomes the haven she’s missing without her own knight stationed at her side every waking moment. She takes yours, as if he hadn’t already belonged to her in the first place. The sharp wounds weakening your defenses proof enough of his archaic betrayal. 

Too nice is the bitter taste lingering at the tip of your tongue with a snide remark about the constant cancellations and last minute excuses. Idiotic is the one that stings with the desperation that  leaves you clinging to the hope that seems to dwindle with the days cut short by leaves falling into fall. 

Heated emotion is what drives you to Steve's front door, the porch dimly lit by a fashionable sconce placed adjacent to the door. You have a key but you never use it and you know the latch on his door isn’t locked but you feel foreign even breaching the steps to the front door and kissing the wood with the gentle reach of your knuckles.

He isn’t expecting you and that’s perhaps the worst part. His smile drifts to the side when he swings the door open, a twenty clutched in his fist and a soft laughter that drops off from the living room. He’s wearing your favorite sweater, a soft, gray cable knit one you often find yourself sliding on for a night in. He smells of traces of lemon and rosemary, the cologne you gifted him for his birthday, his lips look to be stained with the blue icing from one of the cupcakes you baked the other day. 

“Hey, baby, I didn’t think you were coming over tonight.” He has the foresight to step beyond the threshold, leaning in to press his chapped lips to the skin of your cheek. That gross sense of security creeps in, tugging at the lines of your face even as your gaze drops to study the laces of your white converse. “Nancy is just over for a movie, was feeling kinda lonely without Jonathan.” 

There’s a small confidence in you then, his need to explain the extra character away. Like he still cares.

“Nancy.” It speaks like an affirmation, like the words you came here to say are reliant on your own understanding of an untouchable bond however one sided. “It’s just always Nancy these days, isn’t it? Shit!” 

The words are not directed at Steve but naturally the absence of a third party would make it apparent that your words are being spewed at him like venom. He takes half a step back and you tilt your head to meet his hazel eyes reflecting in the brilliance of the single sconce keeping you from the dark. 

“Whoah, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing. Just—I suppose you won’t invite me in?” The way his hand scratches at the nape of his neck, his eyes glancing to the door, is enough to send you stumbling backward. You clip your foot on the corner of the bottom most step, the cool of red setting your senses on high where it trickles down your ankle and into your sock. 

“I just don’t know if Nancy really wants to be around another couple right now…let me take you home.” A gasp disguises itself in the back of your throat, high in pitch and not altogether of your own consciousness.

“Oh…well you know, not that I actually wanna come in and watch you make a fool of yourself but she wouldn’t have to worry about being around another couple because we aren’t one. Not really.” You ramble, ignoring the furrow in Steve’s brows and the way his hands slip to his hips in that way they do when he’s exasperated or confused. There’s a dull ache licking at the small gash in your leg but you ignore it in favor of your train of thought.

You miss the way Nancy’s head momentarily pops through the crack in the door to regard you both in concern. She almost steps onto the porch and urges you inside but feels her presence would only cause an escalation in the already climactic scene.

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” He leans forward, ignorant to your audience too concerned about the way your words are half slurring together, body swaying against the evening breeze. He glances to the driveway and spots the absence of your car, silently thanking whatever higher power that you didn’t drive here, half frightened that you walked the distance from wherever you’d been prior to his house. He takes careful steps, sizing the distance of his hand to your waist without drawing attention to the slow extension of the lengthy appendage.

“I guess we never were…I was always just a placeholder for Nancy and I’m just so fucked up that I thought it was fine, that I could deal with it. But now I’m telling you that we’re not whatever version of a couple we were pretending to be so you don’t have to lie about just being a good friend anymore—” 

“Baby, you know I love you. Now just—” You step out of his reach again, finger lifting to your lips as if to silence him in the quiet of his picket fence suburb.

“But you’re in love with her.” 

“Y/n, you should come inside and lay down. Please, baby.” 

“Oh so now I should come in? It’s fine, baby. I’m fine.” You push at his hands trying to gently guide you, laughing at the absurdity of his delayed affection. The gratification of finally getting it all off your chest has you riding high, forgetful of the empty bottle you’d chucked into Steve’s yard on the way up. No sense to remember the reason you’d picked it from your parent’s liquor cabinet to begin with. 

“Please, just come inside and we can talk about this tomorrow when you’re not—” 

“No, I’ve said all I need to say and ya know what? I’m sure I’ll get over it and you eventually. But, I hope you know that as much as you’re still in love with her, she got over you a long time ago.” 

[scribespirare]

If you're still open to flowerfang requests can you give us some more a/b/o with courting? Thanks so much. 🫶

baby i am ALWAYS open for flowerfang requests gimme gimme

So there's this guy.

Well, a villain actually, and he's slippery as hell and keeps wriggling his way out of Miles' grasp (seriously, there's an entire eel theme going on and quite frankly he doesn't really wanna talk about it) every time they meet. And since Miles is dealing with finals right now, he really can't spend that much time trying to chase this dude down. It's just not at the top of his priority list, ya know? Especially since he can usually stop the attempted crimes and send eel guy back to whatever rock he crawled out of. Or...swam. Whatever.

The point is, Miles gets the shock of his damn life when eel guy lands at his feet, trussed up like a present but without the bow one fine weekend afternoon.

Miles, in costume and having previously been enjoying the scenic view of the city from atop one of his many haunts, stares down at eel guy in pure shock.

"You're welcome," Miguel says from somewhere to his right, and Miles whips towards the sound.

"Huh?"

But the Alpha is stepping into a yellow portal, back turned, and Miles can only gape after him. "What the fuck?" he mutters, mostly to himself.

The man on the ground responds anyways. "Man, I have no goddamn clue. He came outta nowhere, said something about Omegas, and then clocked me."

Omegas!? If this is some dumb ass Alpha power flex then Miles is going to skin that man alive. Even if Miguel has at least a foot of height, a decade's worth of experience, and probably a hundred pounds on him. And also there's the fact that he's extremely hot. Like. Wildly fucking hot.

Whatever.

Fucking Alphas. Thinking they're hot shit just because they have chiseled jaws and biceps bigger than his head and amazing scents...

Miles spends the entire time he's taking eel guy to the police station grumbling about them.

Eel guy wisely stays quiet.

oOo

School lets out and the summer is sweltering where it gets trapped in all the concrete and gleaming metal of New York. Miles is given (mostly) free reign to do as he pleases and he does. There's nothing quite like swinging around the city to cool off.

There's just one problem.

Fucking. Miguel.

He keeps swooping in and taking down Miles' bad guys for one, even the tiny pipsqueak ones. And to make matters worse he's leaving shit in Miles' bedroom too. Money, some new Jordans, a spiderman suit that Miles will never admit looks way cooler than his current one and that he stuffed deep into his closet never to be seen again because fuck that guy.

Seriously, what the fuck is Miguel's problem? He hadn't thought Miles' being an Omega was that big a deal when he'd sicced hundreds of spider-people on him. Hadn't held back when he'd slammed Miles into the side of that train, all barred teeth and rage.

But now, all of sudden, Miles apparently can't wipe his own ass without an Alpha's help.

It's just his luck (which is to say, good) that when he decides he's done with Miguel's shit and is going to rip him a new one, Miguel drops a villain at Miles' feet and actually deigns to stop for a moment and chat.

Somehow the man laying between them is eel guy again. They both ignore him.

"What the actual fuck do you think-" Miles starts, at the exact same second Miguel says, "I wasn't sure if we should talk to your parents-".

Both of them stop, clearly confused by the other. Miles gets over his surprise first, shaking his head. "My parents? What the hell do you want with my parents?"

Miguel blinks down at him, face unreadable. "Well, the next stage of courtship usually involves speaking with the Omegas's-"

"Courtship!?" Miles' voice comes out so high and squeaky he feels like he's hit puberty all over again.

Another blink. This time Miguel's features tighten a little, and if Miles didn't know better he'd think the Alpha looked nervous.

Good thing he knows better.

"I...yes? I've been courting you since the start of summer," Miguel says. "I thought..." he trails off, brow knitting in manly angst that very much is not attractive on him, not at all.

Miles for his part just flaps his jaw in disbelief. Everything clicks together for him then: all the bad guys (fucking gift wrapped!), the shit Miguel kept leaving in his bedroom, the way he'd linger sometimes as if to catch Miles' reaction but ultimately still fucked off back to whatever universe he popped out of. Traditionally Alphas aren't meant to interact much with an Omega until they've declared their intention to the parents or guardian of said Omega. This is preceded by gift giving to see if the Omega is even amenable to being courted at all.

Here's the problem. A: that shit was common like a hundred fucking years ago. Nobody courts like that today unless they're richer than god and have been for generations. Old money are just weird like that.

B. Miles never gave any indication of being amenable.

...did he?

"Fuck you're old," is the first thing that pops out of Miles' mouth, because he'd rather talk shit than think about how he feels about Miguel trying to court him.

Miguel immediately tenses all over and takes a step back. "I'm sorry, I thought the age gap-"

"What?" Miles cuts him off, because he recognizes the look of a man about to run. "No, I meant you're old as hell for trying to court me traditionally."

The age gap is most definitely not a problem the Omega in Miles says. He ignores it.

"Oh," says Miguel, but he doesn't relax.

"Nobody does that shit anymore," Miles continues, "so I didn't recognize what was happening. On top of that, you didn't fucking say anything so how the hell was I supposed to know!?"

"I wrote you letters," Miguel argues back. Then, a little softer like now he's unsure of himself, "Written correspondence is an important part of a courtship."

"Did you leave them in my room, like the other stuff?"

"Yes?"

"Well there's your problem. You've seen my room, do the math. Bits of paper aren't gonna stand out."

Miguel runs a hand through his hair and sighs, shoulders slumping. "So you're telling me that I've been trying to make romantic overtures for over a month now, and not a single clear message has gotten through?"

Miles' heart does something weird and uncomfortable in his chest at the words romantic overtures. But he just nods. "Looks like."

Looking skyward as if for patience, Miguel mutters something under his breath and then huffs, puts his hands on his hips, and makes direct eye contact.

"Dios mio, fine. Clearly my preferred way of doing this isn't working. So let's try this instead. Miles, can I take you on a date?" The words are said so matter of factly and with such little emotion that they take a moment to process. When they do Miles immediately feels his face heat.

"Uh," he says intelligently.

Yes says both his dick and his inner Omega.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," are the words that actually come out of his mouth. Miguel looks pained though and Miles winces. "I mean...I'd love to? I think. I dunno, I'm kind of in shock right now. I have no clue what's happening."

That finally has Miguel relaxing and a ghost of smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Of course that look is just as stupidly hot on him as all the others. God, who did Miguel have to kill to get cheekbones like that?

Any and all thoughts of Alpha attractiveness scatter from Miles' brain when Miguel steps closer, right up into Miles' personal space. He smells...well, fucking amazing. Wild and sharp, like steel and ozone before a lightning strike. And he's leaning closer, tilting Miles' chin up with one finger.

"What's happening," Miguel says lowly into the space between them, "is that I'm interested in you, Miles. And I'd like the chance to show you exactly how interested."

Miles swallows hard and his knees nearly buckle under him. "Y-yeah, okay," he says, trying to ignore the heat of Miguel's body, how good it feels to be pinned in by his bulk and strength. He's failing.

"Good," Miguel replies, ruining all chances Miles had of trying to keep his cool because the Alpha leans down and kisses him.

It's not Miles' first kiss, but it is his first with someone who actually knows what they're doing. Miguel's mouth is hot and confident, nearly bruising in its intensity as he guides Miles' into parting his lips so that Miguel can sweep his tongue inside. Miles makes a surprised, pleased sound that immediately embarrasses him because it's so incredibly Omegean.

Miguel laughs against him, more felt than heard, and finally pulls away. "I've been wanting to do that for a while, cariño. Sabes tan dulce como te ves."

Miles yanks him back down into another kiss before he can say anything stupid.

"Uh, guys?" says eel guy from somewhere on the ground. "Hello?"

oOo

They don't end up talking to Miles' parents by mutual agreement. Miles isn't even sure why Miguel would want to considering Miles is still fifteen, but over the course of the conversation he starts to realize...

Miguel is a hopeless romantic. That's why he'd gone for traditional courting. Soft, gooey hearted, marshmallow fluff romantic.

Miles laughs until his sides hurt. He only stops when Miguel pins him down and kisses him until Miles can barely breathe.

It's really fucking great.

...Miles still forces Miguel to promise not to fight anymore of his bad guys though.

[mythicalmyles]

Could I please request one of xvirus

Have fun with the concept I guess since I can't think of anything.

Also if you can include degrading, breeding, and marking it would be much appreciated

Labrat!cody x bad boy reader

drug use/misuse of medication

Reader is a dealer and Cody is a perverted nerd

degrading, breeding, dubcon, use of the word cunt/pussy, male!reader, bottom!reader, bondage, feminization, photography(i cant remember the name of that one kink)

You smirked to yourself as you bumped into a random guys side, you almost felt bad when you turned around to such a handsome face. He had a rounder face and dark green eyes, you quickly sheepishly apologised to him, a sunny smile slapped across your face.

You quickly turned and made away with due haste, once you were far enough away and tucked into a dingy alleyway you pulled his wallet from your pocket. It was beat up and practically falling apart, you turned it upsides down watching cards tip out and clatter to the floor. Not a single note. You huffed to yourself, picking up the cards. One had you stopping, twirling the plastic in your hand. It was an ID card, he was some kind of doctor.

You shoved them back into the wallet and sighed, you’d drop it off outside of the police station. There was nothing for you there.

You quickly turned and made away with due haste, once you were far enough away and tucked into a dingy alleyway you pulled his wallet from your pocket. It was beat up and practically falling apart, you turned it upsides down watching cards tip out and clatter to the floor. Not a single note. You huffed to yourself, picking up the cards. One had you stopping, twirling the plastic in your hand. It was an ID card, he was some kind of doctor.

You shoved them back into the wallet and sighed, you’d drop it off outside of the police station. There was nothing for you there.

Four months had passed and you hadn't ended up returning the wallet, you'd ended up looking into the company 'Cody' worked at. It was a laboratory that made drugs. There had been something in there for you after all, the moon hung high in the sky and the darkness seemed to consume everything around you.

The building was far out in the countryside, you had to beg on of your friends on your knees for their car. They reluctantly agreed to give you it, you knew how to drive. You just never bothered getting the license for it. Six years of driving and no one had stopped you yet.

You tapped your hands against the wheel, every car had left the car park and you almost felt safe enough to get out of the car but a light on the building hadn't went off. You were far too far away from any houses, at least from what you had seen.

You rested your elbow on your window as your pinky slipped into your mouth, teeth gnashing against the nail and splitting it. You dropped your hand from your mouth and sighed before opening the car door, you yanked your hood up as you looked around. You couldn't even hear so much as a car engine going by anywhere.

It was almost unsettling, you choked your fear down as your feet ground down into the gravel that filled the carpark. You kept looking around the car park as you slid a black fabric mask up over your mouth and nose. You made your way around the building until you managed to find an open window, the height of it made you shudder as you gazed up at it.

You scrunched your face up in annoyance and huffed, looking over to some bins. It was a starting point, you shrugged as you made your way towards them. You were quick to hop up onto them, trying not to create too much noise as you stood up. If you jumped high enough you could grab onto the ledge.

Life had been tough and in turn you had had to toughen up, you crouched and leapt up. You weren't the strongest but after swinging your legs and pulling yourself up you at least managed to get your torso up, shuffling forwards to bring your legs with you.

You had to take a moment to breathe, huffing and panting as you collected yourself. You stood up, you'd have to jump up to get into the window but it was going to be much easier then the climb up here.

You jumped up and propelled yourself forward, diving down into the floor. You winced at the racket you made, freezing still with wide eyes as you listened. There were no noises to indicate someone had heard you and you slowly took a breath as you relaxed your shoulders.

You stumbled up, leaning on the wall for support as you brushed yourself down. Your mask had slipped down your nose so you quickly pulled it back up, tired eye’s searching the room you had found yourself in. It looked like a meeting room, a big wide table with a shit load of chairs. Whoever owned this building had to be rich, you figured they wouldn’t miss some packets.

Besides, you had rent due in a week, along with last months. Flashbacks of dropping to your knees flashed through your mind before you rubbed your hands over your face, pushing the grimy office out of your mind as you made your way to the door.

You opened it slowly and cursed every creak the door let out, you poked your head out and looked both ways down the hall. It was dark and long, you had better move quick you had no idea if someone was here or if there was suppose to be anyone in early.

You shook the questions out of your head as you began peaking through glass doors, somethings caught your attention but none had looked like a medical room so far. You began to wonder if this huge building even had a laboratory. But you knew from the card it was used to open something, probably medication they produced or whatever it was they did. All you had cared about was what you could get your claws on, lord knows enough people already had theirs twisted inside of you.

Anxiety twisted through your body as you made your way down creaky stairs, your shoulders practically hit your ears once as you made your way down. You let out a light sigh of relief when you finally hit the bottom, you looked around the large room. It was pretty empty and really white.

You looked at either side seeing arches that lead through to darkness, you took a deep breath and chose the one closest to you.

Just as your anxiety got unbearable and began twisting its hands around your stomach you found large double doors. At the side was a keypad, you couldn’t see through the door so if there was someone behind it you were screwed.

You mentally prepared yourself and swiped Cody’s card against the scanner, smirking when it went from orange to green. You stepped back as the doors opened, eyes landing on a very large laboratory. Jackpot. Glee filled you, crushing out your anxiety as you quickly but quietly made your way through the doors which closed behind you.

(E/c) eyes searched the room, spotting a large cabinet at the bottom next to a couple of fridges. You had to hold back a laugh of excitement, care gone out the window as you rushed towards the cabinets. There was so much, you could finally disappear with this much. The thought alone had tears tugging at your eyes. It had been a long, long life.

Living as an orphan had been bad enough, you spent many of nights hidden in shop doors hiding from the pouring rain. You had lied, robbed, cheated and even hurt people. But with this you could sell most of it and quick, you knew a lot of people.

You almost dropped when you read the labels, Oxycontin, Vicodin and so much more. You wasted no time in grabbing handfuls and shoving them into your bag, you crammed them inside of your bag. You didn’t care if the packaging got mangled, they were printed all over with the logo on the packets. No one would even think of questioning the legitimacy of them.

Once you had filled up your bag you quickly began stuffing your pockets full, sighing and wishing you brought a bigger bag. You momentarily looked at the fridge before a headache began forming in your temples, the words almost incomprehensible. You shrugged, you had more then enough.

It had been dead quiet besides the rustling of pill packets. You grabbed up one last packet and opened it up, biting your lip as you popped two out of the packet. You threw them both into your mouth and swallowed without a second thought, tongue long since numbed to the chalky taste.

You began looking around the lab, the only room that had a light on. You figured they must have forgotten it, part of you wanted to keep exploring but you shook your head and turned back the way you came. Just as you were about to swipe the card, the doors opened. Your eyes doubled when Cody appeared in your view.

You barley had time to process much more then that before his fist slammed into your nose, sending you flying backwards. Your head smacked against the cold hard floor and black spots began quickly filling your vision.

You woke up, body drowsy and heavy. The opioids you had taken kicked in hard, you tried to move your arms but you found resistance. You flopped your head to the side, vision blurry and you furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to focus. You were tied to a hospital bed, you tried sitting up but you were too heavy for yourself to bare and you ended up flopping back down.

"Ah, the new lab rat has finally woken up." The voice was deep and gravely, almost as if he hadn't spoken in years. You focused your eyes onto the new figure that had appeared, Cody's face coming into focus. You could now see him a lot better, you were glad for a moment to be lying down because it would've been hard for you to deny that he had your body turning into jelly.

He had a light stubble around his jaw, his green eye's looked down at you. You tried to hide the shudder that ran down your spine, coughing as you twisted in your binds. He just tilted his head, gauntly pale face staring back at you with purple ringed eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in a month and then some, his long hair tugged off to the side. You could see him running his hand through it a lot, he stared at you blankly as you squirmed.

You couldn't find your voice, instead taking in the way his biceps tensed. Almost as if he expected you to shoot up and punch him, the grey and black hoody that hide his chests squeezing around his arms. "M'not a rat." You mumbled out, almost shrinking when his eyes narrowed. Despite his beautiful green eyes his glare was full of ice, his eyes searching all over your body before turning and walking over to cabinets.

"W-wait! Plea-please. I'm sorry." You quickly choked out, tripping over words as you heard the sound of metal clinking together. "You will be." You whined in your throat as fear began clouding your mind. You jumped when his hand wound into your hair, grabbing the strands hard as he turned your head to the side.

He ignored your begging words as he pushed a needle into your neck, you looked him from the corner of your eye, whimpering as the you felt the fluid flow into you. His face looked concentrated as you kept as still as you could, scared of making the needle tear your vein. "This wont kill you, I think I have other plans for you." His voice had a note of excitement to it, he told you to wait before laughing to himself and leaving.

It took a few moments but soon you began to sweat, body temperature suddenly rising. You let out a deep breathe as you tried to calm yourself, you squirmed around on the table as your clothes began to stick to your skin. You groaned as you began shaking, all comfort gone out the window.

Cody came back through the door and you looked at him with pleading eyes, he looked at you in surprise. "Huh." He muttered as he raked his eyes over you. "Didn't expect this." You whined as your cock began hardening, making an obvious tent in your jeans. Cody's smirking face staring right at you, you figured he'd be quick to nice it.

He pulled a pad and pen out from his hoody pocket, scribbling down something. You continued to squirm in your bonds, bringing your legs up as you tried to use them to push you up. Cody's hand pressing down onto your stomach had you falling back onto the bed.

You panicked when his hands moved to undo your belt, trying to pull your pelvis away from him and failing as his hand chased you. His hands felt warm as they weaselled their way under your shirt, you involuntarily shuddered as his fingers scrapped against your skin.

“P-please dont hurt me.” You choked out in a horse whisper, Cody didn’t bother answering you. Instead his empty eyes stared into yours, a smirk tugging at the side of his face. The look turned you on more then it should have, you could feel fear build up in the back of your mind but it was swept away quickly when Cody’s fingers began circling around the buds of your nipples.

You whined at the light friction, feeling your nipples start to harden as Cody got rougher. His hands eventually groping your chest. “Pretty tits.” You flushed bright red at his coment and shook your head. “Im not a girl!” You choked out, eyes doubling in size as you stared at him. He lightly chuckled before shoving your shirt up, his hands pushed your pecks together before motorboating you. You let out a squeal at the obscene gesture, trying to escape him.

“You sound like one.” His voice was almost annoyingly condescending, his teasing had you flushing bright red. He dragged his nails down your body, leaving thick lines in their wake. You couldn’t help but shudder, eyes lidded as you gazed up at him. “I didn���t think such a cute guy could be so naughty, I didn’t even suspect you.” His eye brow was quirked up and it looked as if he was proud. “And stealing drugs?” He snorted. “What else have you been upto? Hm?” You shrunk under his sharpening glare, shrugging your shoulders and looking away.

Your thighs clenched together, the slight friction having your lip drop as pleasure rolled up your spine. Cody’s long fingers made quick work of your belt, yanking your jeans down your thighs. Despite your efforts he was successful in removing the clothing, throwing them far off much to your dismay.

He roughly palmed your cock through your boxers, you let out a loud moan as you began rocking back into his hand. Pleasure filled your mind, quickly drowning out thoughts. It felt so hard to focus, the opioids and whatever he had given you seemed to have given you a unique reaction.

Cody bit his lip as he watched you whine and rut against his palm. “You got some pretty dick suckin’ lips on you, pretty boy.” You threw your head back as you let out a groan, Cody was driving you insane. “Beg for more, be a good girl.” He drawled out, his smug face staring down at you.

Your thighs squeezed tight, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Cody frowned, stopping his hand as he moved to wrap them both around your neck. You stared at him with scared eyes, body trembling in fear. “Pl-please! Mo-more!” You quickly choked out, squirming in his hands.

Cody leaned back and smirked victoriously, climbing on top of you. He looked down at you with his mouth slightly open, you could see his tongue toying with his sharp teeth as he looked down at you. He almost looked like he wanted to eat you whole. You tried to hold back a groan as you looked at him, he seemed so dangerous.

Hot tingles shot through your stomach as you stared up at him with lidded eyes, practically vibrating inside of your skin. Every breath he took caused the tiniest of friction against your cock and it was driving you nuts.

Cody was almost content enough to sit and stare at you, you looked ruined under him and he had barley done anything. He had given you something he had made himself but on the rodents he had tested it on it hadn’t quite had this reaction. “Thieves get punished you know.” He grinned as you squirmed, he was relishing in every reaction he could pull from you.

“I think.. i’ll breed you like a bitch.” Cody’s cock twitched, the way your eyes doubled and you choked on your saliva. Drool began dribbling down your chin, Cody had pity and grabbed your chin, pulling your head up. You let out a deep breath as your throat finally cleared, staring up at Cody with teary eyes.

It was enough to make Cody snap, making his way in between your thighs and quickly doing away with your boxers. You shuddered at the cold air, taking deep breaths as you prepared yourself

Cody pulled a bottle of lube out of his pocket, squirting it over his fingers. It dripped down his hand and down his wrist in thick globs, he didn’t bother warming it before sliding two fingers into you. You let out a yelp, his free hand practically pushing your thigh into your ear. The pain of the position faded when Cody’s fingers began jabbing into your prostate, Cody groaned when he watched your eyes cross and roll back.

“C-cross your eyes again.” Cody’s voice was deep and he almost sounded feral, his hand moving from your thigh to dig in his pocket. He slowly fucked you with his fingers as he unlocked his phone, you whined as you spread your legs for him. You blinked when a flash went off, colours dancing in your eyes. Cody groaned as he looked at his phone, you looked so fucked. Your hair stuck to your forehead due to the sweat and your eyes had a dumb hazed look to them, Cody wanted to keep seeing that look on you face. “Do the eyes.” Cody spoke, eyes hard as he stared at you.

You nodded and crossed your eyes while looking up, Cody suddenly began slamming his fingers into you. Cody recorded you for a few moments as he fucked his fingers into your ass, he dropped his phone behind him and quickly returned to you.

He leaned right over you, his hands spreading your legs and bending you in half. He looked you in the eye for a few seconds before aggressively pressing his lips to yous, one of his hands moving to help his cock guide into your hole. He manage to make you squeal as he slid into you, he didn’t go fast but he also didn’t stop until he had gotten balls deep inside of you.

He felt really large inside of you, as soon as his cock pressed against your prostate you came hard. You let out a loud garbled moan of Cody’s name, Cody could only pause as he watched you cum from his cock sliding into you. Cody wasted no time in almost pulling all the way out only to slam back into your tight hole. “Fuck, such a good boy. Such a good bitch.” Cody choked out, gasping at the tightness of your hole. “Nev-never thought id see yo-our cute lil’ face again.” He groaned out, biting his lip as he looked down at you. All you could do was moan as he pounded you, hands flexing and twisting against your restraints.

“Ple-lease le-let go.” You begged, waving your hands. Cody paused, he looked like he was thinking over it for a moment before he paused his thrusts. He undid the buckles on your restraints, letting your wrists free.

You quickly pulled them close, rubbing your red wrists. Cody quickly stole your attention back by pressing his lips to yous, he kissed you with hunger. It was hot and sloppy, both of your drool running down your chin and neck. Cody continued to fuck you with abandon, his cock hitting deeper then anyone ever had. You never thought some weirdo cooped up in a lab could make you feel the best you ever had.

When Cody pulled away so you both could choke down air you began babbling, you had no clue what you were saying and you didn’t think Cody did either. Instead he buried his head into your neck, sucking the flesh he could. You were sure the teeth that scrapped against you were going to leave you riddled with bruises, you couldn’t find it in you to care when the feeling of Cody’s cock stretching your insides out was all you could think of. You could feel his thick head slamming against your prostate and it left you a drooling mess.

Your entire body shook, your hands grabbing onto Cody’s biceps for dear life. You were sure you were going to leave him with scars, but if he felt it he didn’t show it. Cody wrapped one of his hands around your throat, his other going to grab your hip and angle you up so he could slide deeper into you. You held onto his wrist as you came for the second time, eyes wide and lips parted. You could barley crack a sound as it slammed into you, leaving you gasping for air as pleasure shook through your body.

Cody choked at how tight you got, choking you a bit too hard as he flooded your insides with his cum. He practically growled as he rode out his orgasm, his body shaking as he dropped on top of you.

He puffed and panted against your neck causing you to shudder, you found yourself wrapping your arms around him. Your fingers lightly ran up and down his spine as you both basked in the afterglow

[1800classiccherries]

Go home machine!

⚘ 1610! Miles Morales x black!spider!fem!reader

⚘ idk if this is necessarily fluff... but idk what else I’d classify it. spider gang is featured in this one. it’s basically the reader inserted into the movie

⚘ summary: Miles arrives to HQ only to have every spider in the building after him. Y/n and Margo help him go home.

⚘ wc: 1.2k (yippee)

You were talking to Margo about something random while she was strolling around the spacious room. Your and Margo's job was to run the “go home” machine. Though doing that job didn’t stop y’all from talking, which led to you two becoming very good friends. 

While you talked, you noticed a Spider-man you hadn’t seen before approaching behind her, but you didn’t say anything about it ‘cause that’s what a spider sense is for. 

“No, but that's what I’m saying, though. Like, imagine if-” She bumps into him.

“So you just weren’t gonna tell me someone was behind me?” she looks back at you offended, getting a shrug in response, before she rolls her eyes at you and looks back at who she ran into.

“I’m Spider-Man.”

“Woww, no way- All of us are.” she deadpans, getting a snicker from you watching this happen.

“Can we just keep moving?”

“what's the rush, Gwen?” you speak up, noticing how she seems on edge.

“Have somewhere to be,” vague answer.

You open your mouth to reply before getting cut off by Miles. “Woah woah woah, w-what are you?” he questions interested. 

Margo explains while starting up the go-home machine. The group proceeds forward in your direction whilst you rock back and forth on a makeshift swing you made out of webs.

“Ah, so you’ve been making the swings. Defacing the workplace; respect,” Hobie says with a proud smile walking up to you.

“Thank you, brotha,” you dap him up.

Gwen turns her head to you, “I thought Miguel told you to stop making them?”

“He did, and then the next day, I saw him sitting in one of them, which basically means keep going. And plus, they’re very comfortable and dissolve after a few business days so what’s the harm” You shrug nonchalantly, not really caring about the webs you leave around the building.

You shift your attention to the unfamiliar face looking at you. You raise your eyebrows in curiosity, prompting him to introduce himself. “Oh, I’m uh- Miles.” 

“Nice to meet you, Miles.”

You get up to go to the control panel, needing to do your side of the work regards to the go-home machine. After doing your part, you walk back over to the group, following their line of sight to the sizeable machine.

“what does that do?”

“apart from having a great name.” 

“The go-home machine”

“What’d I say?” Hobie quips with a singular chuckle.

“I voted against it.” Gwen clarifies.

“We voted for it,” you say, referring to you and Margo, “It’s a cute name.”

 Margo looks over at the group, “It detects whatever dimension your DNA is from and sends you there.”

“Cool, right?” I grin.

“Super humane and not creepy,” Hobie adds inexpressively.

“well, y’know,” I shrug.

After a moment of silence, you see Gwen sigh out of the corner of your eye, “We should go.”

“Uh.. see you two around?” Miles asks, getting a nod of confirmation from the two of us.

“Hey, good luck out there, man,” Margo calls.

“Have fun!” you add with a shout before Miles gets a web shot to his back and is dragged away.

“Okay, bye!”

Margo lets out a laugh, and you sit back on your web swing. As she turns to face you, her smile falters, seeing your slowly spreading grin and giggle, “Why he kinda...”

“Girl, stop.”

~

“Ugh, Margo, tell me why I can’t get this boy outta my head,” you’re hanging upside down with your hands covering your face giggling.

“Y/n, you had one conversation with him- actually, it wasn't even that- less than that. You said-” A blaring alarm cuts Margo off from continuing to go in on you.

All stations; drop what you're doing and stop Spider-Man!

“Looks like you're finally getting locked up,” Margo smirks.

“Very funny.” you give her a look of annoyance. “I bet every spider in the building is making that joke.”

Ay coño, Miles! Miles Morales! He’s entering sector four!

“Huh. Weird.” You shrug after the hologram from your watch closes.

“That’s all you gotta say?” 

“What do you want me to say, Margo? ‘Well, shucks, lemme go find him right away!’”

“Ooh, you infuriate me.” She seethes.

“Love you too...” you trail off, giving her a stink eye. You put on your headphones and mask. 

“Going on my break. Let me know if you need sumn,” I announce as I walk out of the room.

“What convenient timing...” Margo mutters.

~

Contrary to Margo's assumption, you were not going on a break to look for miles. You genuinely were just tired of working. You roam the halls, closing your eyes as the music in your headphones plays; suddenly, you feel a body collide with you, knocking you to the ground. So much for a spider-sense.

“Hey! Watch where you’re swing- Oh. Hey,” You backtrack, dropping your aggravated tone when you stand up seeing Miles rushing to get up, looking around.

“You gotta hide me!” He pleads; knowing what’s happening from the announcement everyone had gotten, you nod. “Follow me.”

You jump up onto the ceiling shrinking down 10 sizes.

“Woah!” Miles exclaims, “Can you do anything?” You ask, hoping he has some kind of skill to help your plan of sneaking away.

He fades in and out of being invisible before staying that way, “Perfect!” I cheer, “Let’s go.”

As Miles follows you crawling around obscure passageways and corridors, you figure this is a good time to flesh out the next plan of action. “Where are you trying to go from here?”

“Home, I want to just go home.” he breathes, sounding exhausted.

“Margo and I can send you there with the go-home machine.” You offer, knowing she’ll help.

“Thank you, I really appreciate this.”

“Mhm, no problem. And if you don’t end up coming back here to visit or whatever, I’ll be sure to visit you.” You say with a sweet smile.

Eventually, you and Miles make it back to the room housing the go-home machine.

“Psst! Margo!” You whisper-shout dropping from the ceiling onto her shoulder, still miniature-sized, of course.

“What?” she looks over at you, “why are you so small?”

“I bumped into Miles while I was on a walk, and well, y’know, he’s kind of a wanted man, so I offered we’d get him home,” you explain, hopping off her shoulder, sizing back up to normal. Miles followed suit, letting go of the ceiling and returning visible.

Margo looks at Miles for a moment, “Sure, I’ll start it up.”

You and Margo get to work as Miles swings onto the platform. It was all going smooth until Miguel broke through the glass, yelling, “Stop him! Now!”

“Man, what does it look like I’m tryna do?!” Margo yells back, the both of you acting like you can’t stop it. 

The dashboard to the machine prompts the finalization screen, and you run over to Margo's side of the room, giving each other a nod and then looking at Miles. You give him a thin-lipped smile before Margo presses ‘yes.’

The red lights in the room fade away and silence in the room was loud, deafening even, aside from Miguel’s heavy breathing.

"What do we do now...” you whisper to the avatar beside you, seeing Miguel rip the web swing you made off the ceiling after it brushed against his arm.

“No idea.”

Thanks for reading!

sorry if there are any mistakes, this is longer than what I normally write so I wouldn’t be surprised if something got overlooked. also the picture i used doesnt really match but it is what it is.

[ithinkabouttzu]

Hello! I love your writing and was wondering if you could do TP reunion headcanons? Like how they would be once you reunite after the war?

Have a nice day :)

The Pacific reunion with you after the war!

genre: Romance; fluff

warnings: Crying, sad themes, reader is called beautiful, but reader is gn!

description: The pacific boys’ meeting with you (their s/o) for the first time after the war

a/n: Thank you for this request! I hope I got it right!! Enjoy my beloved!! 💗💗

Eugene Sledge

• for him it’s a whole bunch of emotions when he sees you waiting for him at the train station

• he wants to cry, but also kinda just wants to laugh because of how happy he is to see you

•Looking at you out of the window, you look so beautiful. His chest pounds thinking at how lonely it must of been for you while he was gone

• When he finally gets off the train and makes his way to you, It’s like meeting you for the first time all over again.

• He’s nervous, because it’s been so long since he’s actually seen you, What if you don’t like him anymore? what if something happened while he was gone and you don’t see a future with him?

• All of those worries in his head immediately vanish when he succumbs to your warm embrace, it’s like time had never really passed at all.

• “I missed you, don’t ever want to leave you like that again”

Sidney Phillips:

• Wow, he can’t wait to kiss those soft lips of yours. When he sees you he’s ready to jump off the train while it’s still going because he just can’t wait any longer

• When he does get off, he’s running towards you, dropping all of his luggage as soon as he gets to you, and picking you and swinging you around with joy

• He causes quite a scene but it makes you overjoyed to know he missed you just as much. Seeing that bright smile on his face makes you almost forget how long you guys were apart.

• He’s honestly just so happy, you’re his home, someone he feels safe with, someone that’s always there for him when he needs you, he’s finally back with his person after so long

• He has so much to ask you once he’s set you down, some stuff that he couldn’t fit into letters, all he wants to do is get home and talk to you about everything and catch up fully.

• Oh, and except a million kisses from there and on the way home too

• “Oh honey, I missed you like crazy”

Robert Leckie

• Once he’s made his way home, said hello to his parents and put his luggage down, he’s immediately on his way to your place.

• He can’t wait to see you any longer, he’s not even sure what he’s gonna do when he sees you, all he can feel is excitement bubbling in his stomach

• When gets there, he stops, scared to knock, he’s nervous to see you in so long, before the door swings opens and it’s you who’s on the other side.

• Wow, you look amazing, that sweet smile on your face is everything to him, he suddenly feels self conscious under your gaze, his appearance changed with time.

• It’s silent, both of you are admiring one another like a breakable antique, afraid to touch but still in awe of each other. He can’t wait to say anything anymore, “You’re still as beautiful as before” He smiles at you, waiting for a reply.

• “You haven’t changed at bit either, i’ve missed you” You reply back, following it with a big hug, wrapping him up in your arms.

• “I almost forgot how amazing your hugs were”

Lew ‘Chuckler’ Juergens:

• He’s ecstatic to see you, a big smile is on his face and he couldn’t hide his excitement even if he wanted to.

• Similar to Sidney, he’s picking you up off the ground and spinning you around, but he’s also planting bunches of small kisses all over your face in joy. He knows exactly how to make you feel like the only person in the room.

• He doesn’t even know what to say, or what to think, other then an overwhelming amount of happiness inside of him, he’s just so happy to be with you, he feels complete again.

• When he sets you down he just looks at you in shock, you’re actually here with him, he never thought the day would come when he would get to hold you in his arms again

• “God, i’ve missed you, more than you’ll ever know”

• He’ll probably continue to kiss and hug on you for the rest of the week, not letting you out for his sight at all, with continuous confessions of his love for you.

• “I’ll spend my whole life loving you doll, I mean that.”

Merriell ‘Snafu’ Shelton:

• When gets off the train, he immediately makes his way to your home, he can’t wait any longer to see you, even if it’s later in the night.

• When he gets there and sees you he’s in shock, all he can you is hug you at the moment.

• He feels so many emotions at once, he’s lost so many people to the war, and you’re the first bit of warmth he’s felt in years, he doesn’t want to lose you, he can’t lose you.

• As he’s hugging you he snugs his face into your hair, breathing you in, he’s close to letting his tears fall but he holds them, he’s missed you so much.

• “You been gettin’ along alright without me?” He asks you, raising up from the kiss. You can tell he’s still a little nervous.

• “Barely” You whisper back softly, you can’t say anything more because his lips are connected to yours almost immediately.

• “Let me make up the lost time, dolly. Let me make it up to you. ”

John Basilone:

• Boy is he happy to see you, you’re still fine as ever to him, so good-looking it almost takes his breath away.

• He picks you up and kisses you passionately before you can even say welcome home.

• He’s just glad he’s back to you in one piece, he loves you so much and is so ready to enjoy some alone time with you. All he can do is kiss you over and over again

• “How are you, honey?” Is the first thing he says to you. His voice as smooth and deep as rich chocolate.

• “Good, and you?” “Better now that i’m here with you” He replies back with that familiar smirk on his face

• He can’t feel much more love then what he feels right now, he’s so excited and happy to be with you again, after so long he can finally say everything is back to normal.

• “I love you honey, I hope you always know that”

R.V. Burgin

• Just imagine the smile on the sweet boy’s face when he sees you for the first time in years, he’s so happy and joyous to be around you.

• He feels shy but also not really? It’s just because he hasn’t seen you since forever so it’s kinda all knew to him again, but he doesn’t make it awkward at all, he just reminds you how much he missed you.

• “You know, when it was rough at night out there, I thought of you and then I could finally get some sleep” He immediately starts telling you stories and more about the people he met

• But still he asks you how you are and if anything had changed while he was gone, “I’m glad you didn’t run off with some rich guy while I was gone” 😭

• He probably carries you bridal style in to your guys’ home together and if you guys weren’t already married then he would probably propose soon.

• In general he’s just so enlightened to see you, it just takes so much stress off of his chest.

• “I love you darling, forever and ever”

Wilbur ‘Runner’ Conley

• When he sees you waiting for him at the train stop his heart picks up so much speed and he feels like he could vomit.

• The waiting almost became unbearable for him, he’d have his luggage ready to set out to you

• When he does get to you he can’t hold back his emotions, he’s so happy all he can do it take you into a big bear hug and laugh

• “Long time no see, right, stranger?” He just looks at you with so much love in his eyes, he’s never felt better then when he’s with you

• He’s just ready for a future with you now, ready to take the next step with you and make you his partner forever

• “I missed you too much, I love you sweetheart.”

Bill ‘Hoosier’ Smith

• It’s like he falls in love with you all over again when he sees you waiting up for him.

• He turns so soft when he feels you in his arms, all he can do is hold you tightly in hopes that you won’t let go

• “I missed you a lot, I don’t ever want to feel that way again”

• He saves the tears for later when you guys are alone, but for now all he can do is kiss you over and over again.

• He’ll probably save a little gift for you to and give it to you then, like I said he really missed you.

• He’ll probably be super close to you for the rest of the day, trying to catch up and see how different it’s changed back home.

• “I love you so much, I promise i’ll never leave again”

I loved this request!! If you enjoyed, make sure to like or reblog! <333

[spheroz]

What I have done so far of my BatFam movie script >:)

Super cool logos with super cool music in  the background

It opens with a few low level mobsters in what looks like an abandoned subway station talking around joking with a sickly beaten up person using a wall as a headrest. An upbeat pop-electro funk song playing. Then one of the mobsters swing around the baseball bat that they are holding until they accidentally drop it. When the bat hits the floor the clang echos and the music stops. You can hear a train in the distance and then you hear echoing footsteps and see black boots followed by a cape. Then it goes back to the mobsters with frightened looks on their faces before the person who dropped the bat picks it up again and then the other people pick up their different weapons and put their ‘game faces’ on and get in the different positions they have to be in to use their weapons (like the person with the bat is in the batting position in baseball, and another person has like a chain and they like pull their chain or swing it around like a mace or something) and then the person with the cape like pulls out his grappling hook and like it hangs on the rafters and he hits someone straight in the face and when he lands it shows batman and like either the batman animated series music plays or like nirvana instrumental cover. And then a whole fight scene goes on and then like two of the mobsters like run away saying something.

Mobster with chain:

N-no one could be as they huff as they run bad as Batman.

The other one nods their head as they run off into the night. Then it cuts out to the landscape of Gotham with the bat signal shining brightly. 

Then it cuts to some kid on a skateboard with either an Oasis song or The cure (maybe sweater weather by the neighborhood). Headphones on his ears and phone sticking out of his pocket dangerously close to falling out. Then he tucks it back in and does a  swift turn on his skateboard. And you see the whole kid. It’s Tim Drake(!!!!). 17 year old badass. He zooms past people on his skateboard. A batman sweatshirt on and an obnoxious color of orange for his shoes. He has a backpack on with a monster (or a different energy drink) in his pocket. It looks like the backpack is dangerously close to just breaking and spilling all over the street, but it doesn’t. And then it zooms out to show gotham in the day time as it moves over showing gotham, and then ending on wayne manor. The camera goes through the window and shows Alfred(!!!!) the music switches to something like the righteous brothers or carole king. And it just shows Alfred working in the kitchen probably like either cooking lunch or dinner. Then the camera moves to the living room and shows Damian(!!!!)  he's simultaneously sketching and petting Ace the bat-hound but mostly petting Ace.

Then the camera move over to the TV which is playing a news broadcast which shows The Signal. You can hear like mumbles of the news broadcaster but you mostly just hear a catchy pop song or like rap idk just something way more modern. And the signal is out there kicking ass. And then it goes from a tv screen to the actual place where the fight is. You once again see Tim riding on his skateboard past the scene and it follows him until he goes by a building labeled something like “Gotham’s school of ballet” (or something) and a Mitski song comes on and you see Cass(!!!!). Cass waves to Tim and as you see him ride by you see him wave too. Cass walks along the street for a little until you get to a shop that has rock music playing at it’s doors than you see the door open and it’s Jason (!!!) and “Hate to say I told you so” comes on and Cass smiles as Jason walks over to his motorcycle which is parked on the side walk. He puts a bag full of what seems to be groceries in the basket and gets on his bike followed by Cass. And when he turns it on the song plays even louder as they drive off in the distance. Than the camera goes through the streets all the way back to Wayne manor where you see jason’s bike, and Tim’s skateboard parked outside. You hear the sounds of a car stopping and you hear an upbeat pop song in the distance almost like it’s on a radio. 

Then you see a a pair of black boots with dark blue laces and hear the pop song getting louder as you hear the door open. Then you see Dick (!!!!) with a smile on his face the camera shows that it’s darker out and almost night as he walks in. Alfred greets Dick at the door as he takes his coat the pop song continues to play as Dick and everyone are like yay!! and all that. Dick ruffles damian’s hair as he sits down next to him. Alfred brings in the food for everyone and people start eating as the music fades out. You see the camera pan over everyone and no one is talking. Each person shows a different emotion. Bruce is just staring at his food taking abite every now and then. Damian is eating more consistently but just kind of staring at his food as well. Dick looks like he’s just fake smiling while he’s eating. Cass is looking at tim every now and then and is eating consistently as well. Duke looks a bit awkward as he eats. Jason looks like he doesn’t want to be there at all. Tim looks like he’s about to say something but then continuously decides he’s not gonna say it as he gets nudged by cass. 

Tim opens his mouth to say what he was going to say and then Bruce gets up and leaves the table and his less then halfway eaten plate of food. 

Alfred: Master bruce.

Alfred follows Bruce to go bring him back to the table. Then Jason stands up and it moves the table slightly as he mutters something about the dinner being a waste of time. Cass gets up to follow him to bring him back. Damian also leaves in this commotion. 

Tim frowns and looks to turn to Dick who’s the only one left at the table only for Dick to go running after Damian. Tim is left there alone every other plate had most or all of it’s food gone but Tim’s is still full and not eaten out of. Then it fades to Tim in his Red Robin suit in the batcave. It’s after patrol. Tim is looking at the Bat computer and then the camera moves to Damian who is next to Bruce trying to look at the file Bruce is working on everyone in their vigilante outfits. 

Tim: Hood went to his safehouse, said he wasn’t coming to the cave.

Bruce gave a grunt and got up leaving and turning off his screen leaving Damian behind with a forced neutral look on his face but you can see that he wants acknowledgement. The Camera then follows Bruce and as he passes by you see Dick looking back at Damian with a sad look on his face as he looks at bruce as he walks by. 

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Saturday :) S2 like I said before chock full of goodies. The hits keep coming with this one. This one has ton of amazing gifs sadly Tumblr keeps me to 30. Had to pick the most essential ones. They gotta raise that limit haha I need least 50 with good eps like this haha

2x06 Fallout

We start the ep off with Rachel telling Tim about the wedding she has an invitation to. Tim immediately says he doesn’t do weddings. (For you he doesn’t….) Rachel ignores this and tells Tim, Lucy got one too. That Lucy used to date him and it’s going to devastate her. Tim asks if this guy slept with this girl while they were dating? She says living together…ugh poor Lucy. Rachel asks him to take it easy on her today. He fights her a bit and becomes a lying liar who lies. Tells her how Lucy isn’t his friend but his rookie. Ok honey…sure…Whatever you say. That it’s not his job to help her through her messy social life. Rachel pouts a little and he cracks. Says he can take it down 2 percent ha

Cracks me up how very confused Lucy is by this announcement. Look at her face. She is put very off guard by this offer. She instantly questions why he’s letting her drive. Probably thinks this is a Tim test she doesn't understand just yet. Too funny she doesn’t trust it for one second why he’s allowing this. It’s not like him at all. She knows him too damn well to just accept it. The distrust is immediate and doesn't go away. I mean look at him rolling his eyes below it's almost painful for him to allow this haha Why wouldn't she question it?

I do love that this is his way of cheering her up without her knowing it. Not a bad first swing at 'taking it easy on her.' Tim knows how much she wants to drive the shop. He’s trying to be indirect about it. Even though he knows he can’t get anything past her. Her smile walking to the shop is too cute. Lucy couldn’t be more excited to drive today. She is not sure what brought this on but she's going to roll with it. Well for a minute.....

Lucy can’t be in the shop more than two seconds before she’s questioning this kindness again. Lucy being Lucy just can't let this random surprise go. Tim is just letting her drive without a catch. No rhyme or reason. Very unlike the Tim she’s come to know. Always so methodical in everything he does with her. This seems unfounded to her. Out of left field and they both know it. It's cute he thinks he can ever run something like this past her without suspicion.

Lucy’s facial expressions during this scene made me laugh so much. She’s on edge waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her face saying Who are you? The funniest part of this scene is Tim not looking at her. He knows if he looks he’s gonna fold quickly. Eyes are the window to the soul, and Lucy has a free pass and can let herself in whenever she wants to read him. Tim knows this. Why it's hilarious he refuses to let Lucy really look at him.

No one has ever been able to read him like she does. Tim is painfully away of this fact. The minute Tim gives her eye contact this ruse is over. He won't have even made it out of the station before this crumbles. Cracks me up he refuses to look her in the eye the entire time. The more she looks at him more he looks away. Like Lucy is willing him to look at her and he just won't do it. I’m dying lmao Also my god look at his jaw line sweet lord. * fans self*

They report to a Liquor store where there was a counterfeit bill used. It's obvious Tim knows the owner since they're on a first name basis. Their reactions to how badly it was counterfeited is too cute. Says ‘Hunderd’ LOL Tim asks how Amari how he and his wife are? He says they’re in couples counseling. Tim empathizes tells him to hang in there.

Lucy looks shocked he’s being so personal. I love that Tim has scattered ‘puppies’ all over. There is a history there we don't know about with Amari. I adore getting to see this side of him. He’s so much softer than he lets on to be as we all know. Lucy can see that chewy center hehe. Amari hands them a pic off his security camera. They tell him they'll start to look for this guy right away.

Tim tells her after they leave that she should’ve gloved up before touching the bill. Lucy says he’s right and she’s sorry. Lucy questions why he didn’t say anything to her while they were inside? Tim tries to shrug it off says no reason…You can't BS the person who reads you best Timothy. They barely make it past their first call before she is calling BS on this niceness. He's such a bad liar.

Lucy tells him he always calls her out in front of people when she messes up. Asks him why he’s being so nice to her today? Tim fails once again in his reply. Says he’s not.... Weak defense Tim very weak. Look at his face. Couldn't lie to her if his life depended on it. Lucy puts two and two together and gets very angry. She know Rachel said something to him.

Tim admits to it and says he didn’t want to do it either if it made her feel better. Breaking news It doesn’t lol First time we really see Lucy get defensive with him about her personal life. I think she knows this whole nice thing wasn’t genuine at all. Lucy figured that much out from the jump. She just didn’t know why till now. Lucy gets more defensive and goes on a mini rant about how it’s not a big deal, she’s over him, and is ‘happy’ for him. This doesn't bother her at all.

Eric is at it again with the perfect facial expressions. Tim’s face says it all in response to her rant. He too is calling BS. He knows she’s not being truthful about how she feels about this whole thing. It was noted in the finale by Tim how 'She is good at a lot of things lying isn't one of them.' Lucy may know him very well but it’s a two way street. Tim is well versed in all things Lucy Chen. He know's she isn't being her usual honest self about this wedding.

Lucy tells Tim she doesn’t need special treatment from him. Trying to put on a brave act for him. After this confession Tim doesn’t hesitate to reverse his driving decision from earlier. Tells her he’s going to drive then. Lucy is bummed but doesn't fight it much. Honestly it’s what she needed. She was off balance with him doing it anyways. So he’s righting the ship by driving the shop (and the situation as we will see later on.) He stopped the being nice routine minute she called him on it. From here on out he handles it really well. It’s far more genuine and from a place of actual caring.

Since she's back in passenger seat Lucy starts to verbalize her feelings and anxiety. Like one does. Saying she's sure Tim thinks she’s being stupid about the invitation. He shoots back saying he thought this didn’t bother her? Lucy ignores his jab. Tim tells her he was just grateful to not talk about it. Haha Lucy continues on despite him. Can’t understand why they would invite her? To humiliate her?

Her spiral just beginning. Tim is trying to head it off with his patented logic. Says maybe they’re trying to make amends? Lucy doesn’t buy that for a second. Before she can rant more they find the counterfeit guy. During their arrest their phones goes off. Lucy looks panicked when she reads it. Instantly looking at Tim for an answer. Says a missile is inbound for LA. To find shelter. So they cut their guy loose and head back to the station.

Lucy is panicking checking the time every 5 seconds. Says they only have 13 min. Tim tells her to stop checking the time. Lucy asks him if he’s serious? They’re about to be burned up by a giant fireball. Tim goes into protect Lucy’s mental state mode. I always love how he puts her first in these kind of scenarios. He knows she's panicking so he does everything in his power to keep her calm. Redirect her thoughts.

Tim tells her they’re not it’s a false alarm. That counting down the minutes wouldn’t accomplish anything, even if this was real. Lucy asks him you want me to think about something else? He says pretty much haha Lucy replies it can’t be done. Tim takes this challenge and runs with it. He starts with the distraction of talking about the wedding she refuses to truly talk about.

God I love them. Both calling each out even when the world is possibly ending. Can't help themselves. Tim pegging her lie about the wedding and her about his false alarm comment. Their banter is the absolute best. The chemistry just from their 'fighting' gets me every time. After their sassy shots at each other Tim does what he does best. Distracts her. Pushes Lucy to really talk about how she is feeling about this wedding. What she would do if she could?

Lucy ends up breaking the emotional dam she had been holding in all day. His face as she gives in and starts explaining what she would do is fantastic. First off her plan is amazing. I adore it. I'm all for vindictive justice for those who have wronged me haha I'm with Lucy on this plan 100 % (My Slytherin side is showing and I do not care haha) Second the look on his face. He could not look more impressed with this plan. He is so proud of her. He’s proud of himself too. Tim finally got her to share her true feelings about this.

Look at his face. He is so happy he got her to share. (but he didn't want to talk about it right?) He knows how cathartic this was for her. That she needed this release all damn day. Not his perceived 'being nice to her.' Tim successfully distracted her even when she said it wasn’t possible to. These two. Gah s2 is so damn good for them it’s insane. Taking care of her in a way that is true to them and to him. Rachel had the best of intentions when she asked Tim that. Truly she did. But it just isn’t them to have Tim fake kindness. Also proof how much it didn't help or work.

This is one of the best scenes of the episode. It's so true to who they are more than anything else. Them discussing revenge and him having a bug guy she can use. This scene helped her much more than the ‘niceness’ of earlier. Tim telling her he has a friend at USC that could loan her cockroaches. Love it. So much for ‘Chen isn’t my friend she’s my rookie’ crap from earlier Timothy. She is your friend sir there is no denying. The more you fight it the more that wall starts to crumble. Hehe You don't do what he just did for 'just his rookie' The denial on his end is unreal.

They respond to Amari’s liquor store being looted. His employee took a bottle to the head. Tim tells them to head to his house check on his wife. Amari says no if its not real he’ll lose everything. Lucy makes a ballsy remark. Says no wonder they’re in therapy.... Damn girl LOL Tim doesn't even stop her. Just watches her put him in his place. Tells him the people you love need him more right now. That in moments like this that's where someone should be. Lucy is wonderful afterwards says they’ll hang back protect his store.

Tim checks his watch and Lucy catches him and says busted ha She asks how much time they have left. Tim says enough…Grabs bottle of whiskey takes a swig and offers her some. I love that he was ok sharing a bottle with her. End of the world. Might as well get a good drink out of it. She tells him she’s not a whiskey kind of girl. Grabs her own bottle. Amazing. I love their little smiles in this scene too.

There is Something really beautiful about this scene. Underrated moment for them I think. What I love is how they’ve decided if they’re going to die least they’ll die together. They legit were ok with this being their last moment together on earth. Lucy is going on about being with those you love during this. Who is she spending possibly her last moment with? Tim and vice versa. They clink their bottles together and chug away. God damn they’re cute I can not. Nice little scene of levity in a rather intense episode all around.

The alert ends up being a false alarm. They head to the hospital to check on Wesley afterwards. Rachel is with them I assume she drove them since they chugged hard alcohol earlier haha. Tim asks her again if she wants the cockroaches. Adorable. Lucy tells him no thanks. That today showed her she’s ok with the wedding.

That she only stayed with him cause she couldn’t afford to move out. Poor thing. Rachel asks if they’re going to the wedding? Lucy says no but she’ll get them a present. Tim being all cute asking if they’ll be a roach in it? LOL The beginning of their inside jokes I love it so.

Thus ends the ep for their scenes at least. Damn good episode for them my goodness.

~~~~

Side notes non chenford

This is such a good episode all around. it’s eps like this why I adore this show as a whole. It was super intense but in a good way. The whole bomb shelter with Wesley and Nolan doesn’t get more tense than that. Wes being stabbed and Angela finding my heart. The hospital scene also gets me in the feels. Harper showing up is huge. Tim sees it and gives her a nod. Step in right direction for her.

Harper had a great episode. That maternal instinct to protect her daughter. Even though she knew it would set Donovan off. I did love Nolan coming to her defense. Such a good ep for her. Mekia is amazing. That single tear when she’s explaining to Donovan that’s she trying so hard to change. I love her SL so much. Her growth is unreal. This is just the start.

[the-likesofus]

wild child be still for me

911 on Fox | Buddie | 644 Words | Canon Compliant, Hug, Protective Eddie Diaz

Eddie knows that Buck enjoys the thrill of high-adrenaline calls but it still terrifies him anyway.

Read on AO3

Eddie’s heart is already in his throat even before he watches Buck lunge for the rope, swing across the gap, and slide to a stop. He doesn’t take a breath until Buck pulls himself to his feet, throws his hands in the air with a whoop, and jogs back towards the truck. He still hasn’t found any words or the ability to move as Buck comes to stand next to him, a broad grin plastered across his face. But the grin falters as he meets Eddie’s eyes and Eddie realizes that he hasn’t schooled his expression fast enough, probably still looks half horrified, half panicked at Buck's blatant disregard for his own safety.

It’s been a while if he’s honest. Buck’s been more cautious recently and has been goofing off less and throwing himself into less unnecessarily dangerous situations. Today caught Eddie by surprise, that’s what he tells himself anyway but Buck’s grin drops and he reaches toward Eddie.

“Eds?” Buck places a hand on his elbow but Eddie shrugs him off.

“Not here, Buck,” Eddie says but he knows Buck can be like a dog with a bone once he thinks something is wrong so he gives him a little. “At the station, okay. Just give me a minute.”

“Okay.”

Buck still presses close to Eddie’s side in the back of the engine and Eddie is a tiny bit grateful for the contact. The long firm press of Buck along his side is grounding in a way nothing else Eddie has tried will ever be.

At the station, after they’ve all showered off the grim from their last call of the day, Buck finds Eddie in the locker room just as he’s saying goodbye to Chimney. Buck and Chimney share a half hug as they pass each other in the doorway and then Buck and Eddie are alone.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie starts because it’s all he can think to say and because he is. “I didn’t mean to clam up on you. I just– I know you enjoy the high-adrenaline calls, and I know you know what you’re doing. I know you’re being safe and I know you’ll be okay but it still—it terrifies me sometimes, Buck. No, all the time.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says again.

“No, no, Eds. I am sorry.” Buck’s hands find each of Eddie’s biceps as he holds him in place and ducks his head to force Eddie to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I am careful, I promise. But I didn’t know you felt that way. That it–, that I scared you.”

“It does, it scares me,” Eddie admits with a sigh and lets himself lean into Buck’s hold. “I’m scared that one day you’ll slip, no matter how careful you are. Or something else completely out of your– our control will happen and I won’t be able to get to you in time.”

Buck nods, squeezing Eddie’s arms before dropping his hands. “Okay. I’ll try not to–”

“No, Buck.” Eddie laughs softly. “I’m not asking you to stop. I would never ask that of you. Just, be careful, yeah?”

“Always, Eddie.”

“I know.” Eddie smiles at him and a tiny grin quirks at the corner of Buck’s lips as Buck raises his arms just above his waist as if to beckon Eddie closer and Eddie goes willingly, stepping into the circle of Buck's arms and resting his forehead against the other man’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Buck’s arms cage around him, warm and secure, and Eddie just breathes him in. When he turns his head to press his nose against Buck’s throat he smells like the basic eucalyptus shower gel they all share at the station. Buck pulls him closer and Eddie can feel the dull beat of his pulse against his cheek.

Thump, thump, thump. He’s safe. He’s alive.

Eddie needs nothing more than this.

[jakelandryshorts]

Undercover Cop

Officer Coleman was having a hard time figuring out what exactly was going on. It was supposed to be an easy bust. They had a bunch of evidence of illegal drugs in the back of a strip joint, all he had to do was go in as ‘new talent’ and then bust them. But somehow it was hidden better than anyone in the police station realized. And no one was talking.

What was supposed to just be a small tour of the building, turned into a lot longer sting that anyone was prepared for. Luckily Coleman got the job. He was able to stay in the building for the time being and mingle with the other workers. Each one seemed bigger than the last. Coleman made sure to keep his eyes pointed forward as he was too embarrassed to know how he stacked up compared to them in that department as well. Even though they weren’t on stage, every guy still walked around comfortably in nothing but a speedo. Oftentimes breaking out into a bit of a flex as Jimmy, the owner, would walk by.

He went up to the biggest guy in the room. Coleman could feel his heart racing. Could he have already been found out? Even on his first day? But Jimmy just gave the guy a firm slap to the back. “Troy, show the little one the ropes. Alright?”

The juggernaut nodded. “Come with me,” he nodded his head and started walking.

Coleman found himself jogging slightly to keep up. This dude had to be nearly a head taller than him and built like an Olympian. He was so big that it didn’t even look like clothes could fit around his massive arms or shoulders. They bulged with unbelievable power and he wasn’t even doing anything right now. Coleman kept quiet as he walked down the long hallway. He pushed through two large double doors and a bright light shined through.

All Coleman could say was, “Woah,” as he looked at the fully stocked gym. Every piece of equipment that he could have ever imagined was in there and even some he’d never seen before. He wasn’t sure what swings or ropes dangling from the ceiling could be used for and the chains along the wall didn’t seem long enough for rope swinging exercises. But with so much equipment, he figured he’d not have to worry about it.

Not to mention the smell. The strong smell of sweat and iron filled the large gym. But there was something else. Something that Coleman couldn’t quite place. Somehow it was familiar, but not something that he’d search out for. It hung in the air as he followed Troy deep into the gym. “What’s that smell?” Coleman finally asked.

All Troy did was smirk. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll come to know it very well soon enough.” That’s when he started stripping.

“Woah! Woah! Woah!” Coleman backed away for a second. It was more than he expected on one of his first days. Moreso seeing that the giant was more than proportional everywhere. Each of his muscles were toned to absolute perfection and what was shoved into that tiny little speedo looked as though it’d flop out at any second. How such little fabric could hold so much meat was beyond Coleman’s understanding.

“What?” Troy shrugged his heavy shoulders. “You’ll be doing this for money soon enough. What’s the harm in practicing beforehand? Besides, it’ll be easier to see all your flaws.”

Coleman nodded along. Being one of the more rookie officers, he was quite a bit younger than the other guys there. It also meant that he had quite a bit better body as well. He’d worked out hard to be top of his class and make sure his muscles were hard and well defined, perfect for any kind of strenuous running or defense against someone who would try to hurt him.

Slowly he started to strip. “There you go. Get nice and comfortable,” Troy said. His arms had crossed his massive chest, but a smile returned to his face. He watched as Coleman took off his shirt then tossed it to the side. Coleman kicked off his shoes and let his athletic shorts drop. Then paused. “All the way…” Troy ordered.

“But—” Coleman stopped himself. He was undercover. He had to stay that way. Luckily being naked in front of the other man wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. Somehow, the more he stripped the more natural it became. Even as his soft cock was on display, Coleman could feel a wave of comfort overcome him. He took another deep breath. And there it was. Peace.

“That’s a good boy,” Troy said. “It feels good to please other men…” Coleman thought about how passing the academy felt. Having the other men praise him for his good work and acknowledge his accomplishments. Thoughts about how proud his father was, his brothers and the other officers filled his mind. He couldn’t help but agree as he drifted in and out of his memories.

Troy smirked. He stood towering just a foot and a half away. But somehow, with all his size, he was able to cross into Coleman’s space without much effort at all. He stood behind him, draping his massive arms over the officer’s shoulders. There was that smell again. Stronger than it had been. Coleman felt himself breath in heavily. “That’s why you workout so much. You know it pleases other men. But you have a few imperfections… Let’s fix those, shall we?”

Coleman felt himself nodding along. His mind was feeling fuzzy, but feeling the other man tell him that he could make more men proud led him on. “Flex,” Troy ordered. Coleman lifted his arm and obeyed. His perfectly sized baseball bicep quickly formed.

“Hmmm… Not bad…” Troy judged. His hands wrapped around it and gave it a squeeze. “Just needs to be a bit bigger.” As he said it Coleman could feel his arm start expanding. Muscle packed onto muscle. It was like hundreds of hours of workouts all packed into mere seconds. Veins bulged out of his arm as the muscle developed past anything he could have done naturally or on his own.

For a second he came out of his high. “What the—!?”

Troy was quick to correct the behavior. “No questioning. Only obey,” he ordered. “Channel your mindless slut.” Coleman’s mind went blank. Any thoughts he had quickly drained out of him. His mouth hung open slightly as a bit of drool dripped out of the side. “Good boy,” Troy said, giving him a kiss.

Coleman eagerly accepted. He wrestled with the other tongue in his mouth, but made sure to let the other man win. Feeling those big hands against his body. Each part they touched only seemed to grow bigger. A numb feeling of accomplishment quickly followed. It was odd. But enjoyable feeling his body grow. Two heavy pecs extended out from his chest. He could feel Troy’s fingers slide through each one of his cobblestone abs. They rested on his ass.

Two massive cheeks ballooned out from his behind. Each second they grew more and more sensitive. Even under Troy’s touch, Coleman could feel his body desiring more. He accidently let out a bit of a whimper.

All Troy did was chuckle. Seeing the strong handsome man’s face contort into something so needy always brought a smile to his face. “What? You want more?” he taunted. Coleman nodded. “Course you do boy.” He undid his underwear, letting his own monster free. Coleman stared blankly. It must have been ten inches and thick as a beer can. He’d never seen one so large before.

More surprising was how he instinctively reach out for it giving it a tug. “That’s a real good boy,” Troy leaned in. “But you’re in for a special surprise…” With that he spun Coleman around and pushed him over. Without so much as a word, he pushed in. Coleman let out a squeak as his asshole was spread wide open. It was surprising how little it hurt. Almost like his asshole molded around the cock rather than the cock forcing itself in. He felt the tip press hard against his sensitive hole, then open up as Troy pushed. The strange feeling of having his insides invaded was oddly pleasurable.

Coleman ended up letting out a soft moan. His body was then squeezed by Troy’s. “That was so much easier than I thought,” Troy bragged into Coleman’s ear. “To think you’d so willing become such a slut. Whoever hired you must not have been treating you very well for you to so easily submit.” He laughed. Not that Coleman was really listening. His cock was hard and needing attention. “But I guess we’ll figure all that out later…”

One of Troy’s big hands drifted down over Coleman’s pecs, down his abs and rested on his cock. “Aww… You’re pretty good size too… Hate to see all that go. But oh well,” he said. As soon as he said it, Coleman’s 7 inches started to shrivel up. Inch by inch it pulled back towards his body. But somehow it was becoming more sensitive as it did so. Just feeling those big hands feel bigger as they gently tugged at his dick made him want to cum. He let out another whimper. Being on the edge was so awful. He wanted to please Troy so badly.

Again, Troy chuckled. His whole body shook with excitement as he continued to thrust inside the other man. Each one drawing him closer, but he enjoyed watching as Coleman suffered right on the edge. “You’re going to be a good boy,” he said, then released inside the other man.

Coleman felt the wave hit his insides, then his own body thrust. Troy made sure to hold him up, riding the ride while Coleman rode it out. Eventually he went limp. Falling asleep from the massive amounts of changes.

“Is it done?” Jimmy asked. He stood in the doorway.

“Yep,” Troy answered.

“Good. And we know who he’s working for?”

“Not yet,” Troy said. Then tossed Coleman over his shoulder. Barely less inconvenient than a sack of potatoes. “He’ll tell us though. Just needs a bit of rest.” He paused, then answered before Jimmy could even ask. “And he’ll be ready for tonight. Just give him a bit of time to rest. Alright?” Jimmy nodded as Troy passed him.

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