#that was outta pocket.. but you’re not wrong

[c-119]

Do you think Maru pranks the team sometimes by giving them scented air filters

[mundifinis]

god i love rushes

[girlokwhatever]

can you do like reader is mad at paige n paige yk the attitude right outta her?

CERTAINLY I CAN!!!!

⋆·˚ ༘ *𓍢ִ໋₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆𖡎 are you done yet? ,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

you’ve been wanting to leave this club for the past hour.

the crowd was large when you got here, but since then it’s only grown. the air is hot and tacky, causing you to stick to each person you pass. it was nasty really, even worse on the dance floor.

your feet were aching and the lace from your top was scratching against your chest, only adding to your discomfort. a sheen layer of sweat covered your skin from head to toe and it seemed everyone else was experiencing the same thing.

you were just leaving the dance floor, jostling around larger bodies to get to the bar where you last saw your girlfriend. she had been talking to some guy about basketball when you’d left, but now she’s replaced her company for a woman around your age. you were slightly jealous and definitely angry. she had barely paid you any mind within the past hour, constantly occupying herself with other people. even after you tugged on her hand and asked her so nicely if the two of you could just go home.

that was an hour ago though. your desire to leave only grew in the time frame, as well as your annoyance.

you walked straight to paige, trying to find your balance among the numerous bodies. there wasn’t really a chair available, so you opted for leaning against her, one hand at the back of her neck and the other adjusting your top.

“hi baby-“

“can we go?” the abruptness of your question shocked paige. her eyebrows raised and she gave you a ‘really?’ look. you’re deadpanning though, attitude written across your face in neon bold lettering. if she wouldn’t take your hints earlier, you’d stop dropping them.

she’s pulling you between her and the bar and onto her lap. though it relieves the aching in your legs and feet, it’s not really what you wanted. she’s leaning up, lips just behind your ear and muttering a quick “don’t be a brat.”

you roll your eyes at that, finding her antics absolutely ridiculous. you’d been here with her all night, letting her enjoy herself while you suffered. you usually didn’t mind going out and having some fun; the club tonight had been too packed for you though. everywhere you went, every time you turned around, there was someone within whispering distance to you.

at this point, you stop considering the consequences of your actions. you grab her car keys out of her pocket and leave the club. paige is absolutely flabbergasted, excusing herself and following behind you with haste. she feels her body grow hot with anger watching you walk away from her without so much as a look back.

why were you so pissed?

her stride is much longer than yours so she’s catching up to you in no time. she grabs your wrist and her keys simultaneously, turning you around and stopping you in your tracks.

“what the hell is your problem? hm?” she emphasizes her point with the tight grip on hour jaw, staring straight at you. you’re both tipsy, you more so than her, and it throws your usual rationality out the window. you push her away from you, watching with satisfaction as she stumbles back a step.

she makes you so angry but fuck does she look good. you’re scoffing right to her face and doing it loudly. as though her feelings are ludicrous, completely irrelevant and wrong.

“my problem?! you know what- whatever. you stay here if you want. i’ll walk home. need a break from you anyway.”

if you had left the last part off, paige wouldn’t have been as mad as she was. in all honesty, she would’ve just taken you home peacefully after giving you a kiss and apologizing for keeping you here so long. but, you did add the last part. you looked your girlfriend in the face and told her you were tired of her.

“say that again, i dare you.” her tone is taunting and you know it’s a trap, but you do it anyway.

“you’re getting on my nerves and i need a break from you.” you’re punctuating every word, but little do you know it’s only fueling your girlfriend.

as soon as you say it you’re being pushed into the backseat of her car. she’s climbing in after you, closing the door as she tries so desperately to fit her frame into the small space. paige pulls her loose hairs into a bun, leaning over you once she’s finished.

“wanna act so fucking tough and mean- gonna get rid of your attitude baby. till all you can say is my name.”

“i bet you couldn’t.”

oh. challenge accepted.

your skirt is hiked up, panties pulled to the side as paige prods you with her fingers. she notices the way the street lamp makes your cunt shine from your wetness, smirking at your situation. she’s knees deep into the backseat, pushing two fingers into you at once.

you cry out at the new and sudden stretch. she doesn’t give you time before her fingers thrust roughly in and out of you at a brutal pace. they’re curling inside of you, already finding the spot that makes your back arch to heaven.

“you like that?” you say nothing, make no motion of acknowledgement. smoke is blowing from her ears at this point, not able to believe how stubborn you’re being right now, even as she plunges her fingers into your sopping wet cunt. your silence only motivates her to speed up, because sure, you didn’t say any words, but your loud moans spoke for you. your body is so responsive to paige, it always has been. every time she touches you, you lean into it. every time she kisses you, you’re chasing her lips when she pulls away.

just like right now. the way your core tightens and she feels it, moving away and watching your hips follow her fingers when she denies you your orgasm. you’re protesting, begging for her to continue and cryimg out her name like a chant. your hair is already a mess and your girlfriend’s heart pounds, using every bit a restraint to stop herself from giving into your pleas.

“are you done being a brat yet?”

“paige-“

“apologize and i’ll let you cum, how does that sound?” she’s rubbing and kissing your thighs, watching the way you squirm at the proposal.

even from her position between your legs she sees the battle you’re having with yourself. she almost thinks for a moment you’ll brave the storm and say no, but deep down she knows there’s only one option for you. she can tell by the way you push your hips into her face.

“i’m sorry paigey. i was.. fuck- i wasn’t being nice. i’m sorry for being mad and giving you attitude.” your voice is weak and it’s turning her on so much to hear you like this, begging for her completely. she doesn’t know how genuine your apology actually is, but she doesn’t care either.

her tongue twirls your clit, gentle and slow to tease you. it’s excruciating, the feeling making you screw your eyes shut as your mouth falls open. you’re moaning her name out too, just like she said you would be.

she’s sucking on your clit now, toying with it and gauging your different reactions to different movements. she knows what you like already (nearly everything from her) but the look of pure ecstasy on your face will never get old. you grind your hips down onto her face, desperate to find your release. you can feel it tightening in your stomach and making your head spin, but just as quickly as it came, it’s being ripped away from you.

paige is sitting upright now, readjusting your clothes and wiping around her chin where she feels the remains of you. she’s licking her fingers and lips clean, staring at your shocked expression, one singular tear rolling down your cheek.

“what’s wrong baby?”

“you said-“

“should’ve thought about it better honey. i’m jus’ giving you space since you’re so tired of me. just like you wanted right?”

you don’t miss her shit-eating grin as she leaves the backseat. she plops into the driver’s seat, glancing back at you momentarily. she places a hand on your thigh and it makes you jolt at the sensitivity, legs aching more now than they were before.

“i hope it’s everything you wished for and more.”

*♡∞:｡.｡˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

paige is sassy and mean but what’s new??!

anyways, hope you enjoyed 😘

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊⇢  right person, wrong time?

『 ෆ k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — repost; after more discussions, i decided to delete the follow up on the original post thread & re-post separately. i don't wanna be accused of stealing someone's idea after already apologizing for it. this'll be the last i talk about it.

Bakugo’s loved you since high school. You always pushed him to work hard, never took his shit without giving it back tenfold, and was a pillar of support through some of the toughest times in his life. Even so, he’s convinced himself you’d never feel the same, that he has no shot with you.

Why?

Because you’re quirkless.

You’re part of the 20% without one, and he told himself he can’t get in your way of your life. Bakugo can’t stand the thought of being the reason why you don’t chase after your own dreams. He knows you too well - you’d put your happiness aside to support him the second he asked. You’d put your life on hold if it meant for him to succeed as a pro hero.

But he can’t do that. You’re the one thing he can’t seem to bring himself to be selfish about.

So Bakugo sits idly by, for years, as your best friend. The one you’d do anything for, no matter the time or place. He watches you date shitty guys and picks up the pieces they leave you in. Buys you your favorite foods when you have a bad day, surprises you with “just thinking of you” gifts, and drops whatever he’s doing the second you need him.

He’s attempted dating, desperately tried to get you out of his heart and make room for someone else - he fails each time. Miserably.

So tonight, that all changes.

You’re attending the annual Hero Gala together tonight, just like you have for the last four years. Bakugo always asks you to be his plus one as it keeps people away from him and he gets to spend time with you…rather, gets to see you dressed to the nines and have you on his arm all night long. It’s the one day a year he gets to pretend you’re his.

You’ve recently gotten a huge promotion in your line of work and he’s broken the top 10 of the hero charts - what better time than now to shoot his shot? He’s waited long enough, run through every excuse in the book why not to tell you how he feels.

The night winds down and the two of you get back into his car, sitting in silence for the ride home. That’s not uncommon for you two, but Bakugo’s reading too much into it tonight. It makes his hands tremble on the wheel, white knuckling the pleather from nerves. Once he pulls up to your apartment complex, he turns the car off and gets out to open your door for you.

To his surprise, you invite him in.

“I have a surprise for you!”

Bakugo’s whole body is tense at this point. What could you have for him?

“Here, open it.” You hand him a small box wrapped in orange paper. “It’s not much and a little cheesy, but congratulations on breaking the top 10!”

He opens the package to find a golden bracelet in a box with the inscription “plus ultra, dynamight!” on the underside of it.

“Ya didn’t have to get me shit, but thank you. I love it.”

He hugs you immediately, scooping you into a loving embrace and relishing in the excuse to have skin contact with you.

“I, uh, actually have somethin’ for you, too.” His voice waivers while he fiddles with his jacket pocket. You raise an eyebrow while waiting for him to present…whatever it is he had.

Bakugo pulls out a small box of his own, handing over the velvet jewelry case. You gingerly take it from his palm and can’t help but notice he’s shaking like a leaf.

“Are you okay, Kat? You’re shaking.”

“Just…open it.”

And you do - revealing a beautiful rose gold locket inside. It’s in the shape of a heart, dainty yet big enough to fit a minuscule picture. Before you open it, he stops you by gently touching your hand. He’s trying to hold eye contact with you, but keeps darting between your gaze and the ceiling.

“I’m sorry if this seems outta nowhere, but it’s been eatin’ me alive for years. And if it’s too much, we can forget it ever happened.”

You tilt your head at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Oh. The locket.

Time crawls to a halt as you pry open the locket, peering into the small enclosure to see two things - a picture of the two of you on the left and a small handwritten phrase on the right.

‘I love you. -Kats’

The silence in the apartment is deafening. Bakugo’s vibrating out of his skin while awaiting a semblance of a response to his confession. You’re normally easy to read, but in the moment, he’s struggling to observe how you could be feeling. It’s driving him fucking insane. He starts to feel regret, embarrassment settling in his bones as he bites his lip.

He just ruined everything. The precious friendship you two had - gone. He knew that locket was a stupid idea.

Bakugo’s preparing himself for your rejection. The tears are building and the lump in his throat solidifies. He attempts to keep himself together as he begins to croak out an apology.

“Look, I shoulda—”

“Say it.”

Bewilderment is an understatement as he recoils at your demand. He blinks the stray tears away, all the breath he had being stolen away by your words. He swallows thickly, never thinking he’d get this far in the conversation. He was fully prepared to high tail it outta there, not…stay.

“Wha—”

“Tell me you love me.”

This can’t be real.

Bakugo’s body moves on its own, closing the gap between you two in under the dim light of your entry way. He cradles your jaw, thumbing over the apple of your cheek and studying your eyes as he takes a deep breath. This is the moment he’s been waiting for - the one he’s been yearning over. The opportunity to tell you exactly how he feels, how much you mean to him.

Four words is all he needs.

“I fucking love you.”

You can’t help but laugh, maybe a little too loudly as Bakugo’s cheeks turn strawberry in color.

“It’s about damn time. I love you too.”

His heart pounds, his legs feel like jello, his muscles stiffen. And yet, he powers through it all.

Your lips meet for the first time - the kiss is soft, sweet, careful.

When you part, his vision blurs a bit, overwhelmed by the emotions swelling in his chest. His lips are slightly parted behind heavy breaths, taking in the moment he was so graciously given.

“I didn’t wanna get in your way.”

You laugh. “Then don’t be in my way, come with me.”

God, he was such an idiot. A lovesick fool blinded by his own infatuation to see that his best friend loved him, too.

You hand the locket to Bakugo and spin around while holding up your hair. He tenderly places the chain around your neck and secures the clasp, letting the metal fall to your collarbone.

“I’m all yours, Katsuki.���

You always have been.

thanks to everyone who sent in a message & encouraged me to keep this up. we're all just trying to have a good time together on this site and share our feelings about characters we love. there's no need to talk down or discourage others from expressing themselves.

[certainlynotasimp]

oh just a little tip, i think it would be wise if you added the spanish translations somewhere inside the fics, this could be at the end or next to the spanish sentence, since you can’t copy text from posts it’s hard to translate since you have to type everything in google translate by hand <33 anyways i loved your fic, you’re very talented and i can’t wait to see more of miguel and his beloved sunshine.

you know what might be funny? if they were on a mission and got hit with a gas that switches their personalities🤣 now that would be something i would pay to see 😂

From Your Point of View

((Miguel O’ Hara x Female! Reader))

A/N: Hello~✨ Thank you so much for the request and the critique. I have now added some translations at the bottom of the fanfics because I forgot how weird tumblr can be about copy and pasting stuff😅. Also I hope that I didn’t disappoint with this as I was kinda struggling on what to write for this one.

-Still haven’t seen the movie so be warned I may get some stuff wrong-

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/Female Pronouns, Barely using (Y/N) ((Sunny is their nickname not their name)), bioweapons, kinda graphic injuries, Outta Character and Outta pocket behavior, and Google Translated Spanish. ((Thank you @22carolina08 for reviewing it before I posted it))

~~~~~~~~~~~

The cackle of women enjoying the fruits of their labors filled the corridor of the abandoned warehouse as they surrounded the machine they were working on. It was a tall glass sphere with some kind of purple dust floating around inside while two titanium computers stood on either side of the device.

The three women standing around it were a set of Green Goblins who jumped from different dimensions to find a universe where there wasn’t an arachnid hero to stop them from using a bomb to take control of the city.

However they didn’t expect there to be four spidermen to be observing them around the property with one little spider hiding along the walls of their lair.

“Lyla,” Miguel whispers as he observes the meeting from the top of another warehouse. “Analyze the contents of that bomb and tell me how bad it is.”

The yellow AI materializes in front of him as Miguel tries to swat her away like a fly, not wanting her to compromise his location. Lyla rolls her eyes and explains, “The dust in that little bomb they have is made from spores of this rare mushroom. It’s been reported that inhaling the spores can cause drastic changes in behavior, mood swings, and mild hallucinations. Most cases detail paitents becoming aggressive and violent.”

Jessica’s voice buzzes through the intercom as she quips, “So they are planning on driving the city into a state of panic?”

“Sounds like it.” Ben Riley gruffs in annoyance. Miguel couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he knows the Scarlet Spider was still pissed that he couldn’t go ahead and stop the goblins.

“Sounds like a party to me, mate.” Hobie cracks as he watches from the ground. “Oi, Sunny, Dear? Wanna crash their party?”

“Yes, a party of people violently hurting each other and causing mass chaos does sound like fun.” Miguel grumbles saracastially before scolding Hobie. “She can’t reply to you, Brown. Not when she’s undercover.”

Miguel can barely make out her outline with the infared of his mask lens, but he can see his little jumping spider wander among the goblins unseen.

A big advantage to have someone with his beloved’s powers. She had almost every trait of the typical spider men, but she had a unique camouflaged ability. Without the suit Miguel made her, she can lower her heart rate and rapidly chill her body temperature so she can remain undetected by infared. She can also go invisible for a few moments without the suit, but both abilities are limited due to how strenuous it was on her being.

The suit allows her to remain undetected for a much longer time and prevents her from putting too much strain on her body. The slight heat the suit emits to keep her body functioning is the only thing that Miguel can use to track her. A major drawback of her gift is that physically she’s not as strong as the others, but she can handle herself in a fight.

Of course, he’s always there to help her. Her protective predator and his gentle prey. A match made in heaven as Jess always jokes.

“(L/N).” Miguel whispers into the com as he watches his love sneak around the device. “Attach the bug I gave you to the main computer so Lyla can deactivate the bomb.”

He makes a signal to the others to tell them to be ready for the ambush. The plan was suppose to be a simple get in and out. The invisible web shooter would get the bomb deactivated while Miguel, Hobie, and Ben rush in and take out the goblins. Jess served as support in case the villains ran past them. It was suppose to be an easy mission. Until it wasn’t.

As the bomb got deactivated, a light beep from the monitor causes the Goblins to turn around and notice that someone tampered with their bomb. Before the little spider could escape, one of the Goblins throws a jack o lantern explosive at her, causing the glass vial to exploded.

Miguel’s blood ran cold as he witnesses his love engulfed in black and purple smoke, and all reason went out the window as he rushed into the contaminated warehouse to save her.

“Miguel, wait!” Jessica screams out she drives her bike in front of the other two spidermen trying to rush in.

“What gives, Drew?” Hobie snaps, concern burning in his eyes. “We gotta get in there.”

“Not without these.” She snaps back as she hands the boys four sets of gas masks. “Lyla said it’s transmitted through air. Hurry up and put these on.”

Ben grumbles and slams the mask on before running in while Hobie and Jessica share a look. “You think Sunny will be alright?” The spiked spider asks as he places the gas mask on his already covered face.

“She better be.” Jessica sighs. “I definitely don’t want to find out how Miguel will react if she wasn’t.”

With that Hobie runs in while Jessica calls for backup to help contain the spores seeping from the windows.

~~~~~~~~

“Vitals appear to be normal.” Spider-Doc mutters to the three spider people surrounding one of the hospital beds. “O’Hara and (L/N) are both looking good on blood pressure and brain activity, so I expect them to wake up anytime soon.”

Thankfully, Hobie and Ben managed to capture the green goblin trio and reinforcements came just in time to contain the spread of the bio weapon. However, both Miguel and his companion were found bloody and unconscious when they found them.

The beloved spider woman had most of the damage with several shards of glass impaled into her back and arm while gaining a severe concussion. The team figured that in the rush of the moment and his vision obscured by the cloud of dust, the goblins took Miguel by surprise and got him with three sharp projectiles while he was trying to help Sunny.

Despite the horrific scene, both of them were deemed to be alright after some surgery and the only physical damage was Sunny’s now broken arm, which should heal in about a week thanks to the signature spiderman super healing. The only worry was the psychological damage.

Both were definitively exposed to large quantities of the gas and from what Lyla had said about the mental effects of the spores, they were worried about an invisible spider and her beast of a companion tearing everything apart.

Jessica sighs as she sadly gazes at the broken and restrained bodies of her friends as Hobi places a small bear on his little friend’s bed.

“Didn’t Lyla say anything about how that antitoxin is coming along?” Peter says as he bites his nail.

Spider-Doc nods as his lens shifts to appear like he’s hopefully smiling. “Lyla has said thanks to the samples from their suits, an antitoxin will be finished in two days.”

“Two days?!” Hobie snaps up. “We are about to have two spidermen possibly going on a rampage if we piss them off. I don’t think we can wa-“

A soft groan emits from the bed beside the ranting anarchist and everyone’s attention breaks from the poor doctor and onto the small spider. Her eyes flutter open as she frowns at her surroundings.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Jessica soothes as she helps the disoriented girl sit up in her bed.

“I’m fine.” The girl said in an unusually blunt way. Her eyes now harden in an annoyed expression as she looks around at the group. “Next time, you guys should be more considerate to someone recovering from having their shit rocked.” She scolds before growling at the pain.

The sight of the sweet girl now acting so bothered towards their presence was so unsettling, but not unexpected. They were aware the sweet girl they knew was gonna be changed by the gas, but it’s still disturbing.

As they all stare at the glaring girl, a deep groan comes from the bed next to her as her attention focuses on her love. Her anger emerges as she snaps back to the spiders.

“What the fuck did y’all do to him?! Was it that asshole Ben Riley? I’m gonna kick his ass if he’s the reason my Miggy is in-“

“Cariño?” A soft mutter causes her verbal rampage to end as a pair of ruby eyes focused on her. Once she meets his eyes, an uncharacteristically soft grin comes over his face as he mumbles sweetly. “Hola, mi niña bonita, ¿cómo te sientes?””

“I’m fine.” The girl mumbles as she tries to keep her stern face while a little dusting of blush takes over. “What about you?”

Miguel chuckles at her face and gently reaches over and caresses her hand as he swoons, “Siento que puedo enfrentarme a un toro ahora que he visto tu hermoso rostro, mi amor.”

The group of spidermen looked at Miguel horrified as he looks up at them. Expecting him to snap at them or try and escape his restrains, but he doesn’t do either. He gives them a bright friendly smile as he cheers, “Oh, you guys made it out alright. I’m glad we are all still here together. Great job, everyone.”

Hobie backs up a couple of steps trying to calm his raging heart before he had a heart attack from the shock. Jessica looks at him disturbed as she silently records the duo on her phone to show her husband later. Peter calls Lyla on his gizmo as his face looses all color.

The AI emerges out of the gizmo with a cheery, “Hello~ you ringed?”

“What’s wrong with Miguel?” Peter snaps as he hears Sunny immediately yell at him about what he said about her Miggy.

“Oh I meant to warn you about that. Well the aggression is on a most case scenario kinda thing, not an every case thing. Since Miguel is more genetically altered with spider than Little Miss Sunshine, his natural aggression cancels out the one caused by the bio weapon.” The assistant explains.

Hobie laughs at this as he looks at the now confused Miguel, “So our big bad leader is as harmless as a kitten now?”

“Yep.” Lyla giggles. “And because our sunny pants there was as dangerous as a jumping spider before this, she’s now part of the majority percentaile.”

“What the fuck did you say about Migue, you twig?!” The formerly harmless girl bucks in her restraints as her protective nature causes her to want to thrash the punk star.

“Mi amor, por favor cálmate... No está tratando de ser grosero…” A now teary eyed Miguel tries to sooth his partner in a shaky calm voice.

That was when Jessica realized a mistake they made. When they restrained the pair earlier, Miguel was placed in titanium bands that crossed over his chest, arms, legs and hips. Since Sunny wasn’t considered a ‘major’ threat in comparison, she was just held down by some chains.

Because of this, the earth deafening sound of chains shattering cause all of the spiders to scream. The AI giggles as she responds,

“I forgot to mention that the chemical not only increases aggression, but also physical strength. In humans, they would just be slightly stronger than normal, but in Miss (Y/N)’s case…”

The rest couldn’t hear what else Lyla had to say as Hobie started booking it down the hall with a pissed off Sunny hot on his heels. Jessica frantically tries to undo Miguel’s restraints as he cries for his lover to come back.

Peter sighs and asks, “How much longer until the antidote is ready?”

“I can rush it for you. Should take another 3 hours hopefully.”

“Do you have any tranquilizers?” Peter asks as a now free Miguel tries to chase down his angry lover.

“No~”

~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Hola, mi niña bonita, ¿cómo te sientes? - Hello, my pretty girl, how are you feeling?

Mi amor, por favor cálmate... No está tratando de ser grosero…- My love, please calm down...He's not trying to be rude…

Siento que puedo enfrentarme a un toro ahora que he visto tu hermoso rostro, mi amor.- I feel like I can take on a bull now that I've seen your beautiful face, my love.

~~~~~~~~~~

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[quartergremlin]

finally your burning question: "do human-turtles have mammary glands?" not really answered.

first/previous/next

transcript

Leo:

Okay, I’ve got another one!

Mikey:

Leo if you scar me again I swear-

Donnie:

No.

Raph:

Leo do not start this again.

L:

Wait, wait here me out! I’m not even freaking out this time, c’mon! Raph?

R:

Mikey?

M:

If you say something outta pocket I’m finding your egg and shoving you back in it.

L:

YES! SO. Top surgery. If we got it, how would that work? Do we even have, like, boob gains or whatever?

M:

That’s actually a good one.

L:

Right?! Donnie?

D:

You’re thinking of mammary glans.

L:

Dude what are you doing to that popcorn.

D:

I could figure something out, if that’s that you wanted. However, a flat plastron may be read as juvenile or feminine to yokai. And I was under the impression that you preferred to be seen as masculine. On top of greatly damaging your romantic prospects.

L:

Translate?

M:

You’d be going in the wrong direction, I think.

L:

Oh. That sucks.

M:

Yeah.

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[vcnillazelda]

alarm

bradley bradshaw x reader

summary: you call bradley on a fateful night.

tags: established relationship, house burglars, protective! bradley, bradley’s such a good bf, he’s bf material, mild angst, happy ending

✞———————❖———————✞

you turn off the tv; bored of the news of two burglars terrorising the area. the chances of it happening to your street was one in a million. stretching, you make sure the front door is still unlocked so bradley wasn’t locked out for the night; he was out drinking with his friends. you know jake, bob and natasha were there, yet you weren’t too sure if mav and some others went too. it wouldn’t be surprising if bradley invited them, he liked socialising with his squadron outside of work.

walking through to the bedroom, you turn on your bedside lamp, settling down as your new puppy, arno, settles back down on his bed. he was a pup you and bradley adopted from the local shelter, hes a dachshund pup, and had a tiny wheelchair for his back legs. the second you saw him you begged bradley to get him. bradley agreed as long as he got to name him, which you agreed to; so he chose arno for its meaning, eagle. you should of known he would of chosen something to do with flight.

arno let’s out a soft snort, sleepy eyes staring at you as you smile. “c’mere, arnie.” you pat the side of the bed, watching the puppy get up, waddling over as his little wheelchair squeaks a little. you giggle, scratching behind the tiny dog’s ears. a noise interrupts, and you look over to the door. the front door closes and heavy footsteps wander through the house. you smile, assuming rooster was home and would come join you, then a second pair of footsteps grows closer as an unfamiliar voice mutters a few words. you panic, grabbing arno and your phone, hiding away in the closet. you curse yourself as you realise the lamp is still on and you probably couldn’t risk going back out in case the stranger came in. your hands tremble as you cradle arno close, who licks at your fingers and neck in an almost comforting way. with your other shaking hand, you call bradley, making sure your phones on silent.

-

bradley laughs, putting his nearly empty glass down. he hadn’t drank much, so he was definitely coherent as he listens to natasha’s story. his phone rings in his pocket, and he excuses himself from the table when he realises it’s you. his teammates smile at him understandingly, and he ignores jake’s little taunt stating “he’s in trouble” to the others. “baby? what’s wrong, it’s late.” bradley asks, making his way to the door so he could hear you better. he hears a soft hiccup and his worry increases. “baby? i can’t hear you, are you okay?” he asks again, and this time he presses a hand to his other ear as he walks outside. “bradley, are you home??” you ask, voice trembling. “no, baby i’m still at the bar. what’s wrong?” bradley glances back to his friends who are all chatting. “there’s people in the house, bradley i’m scared..!” you whisper yell, breaths hitching. “what?! are you hiding? are you safe? do they know you’re there?” he asks desperately, running back inside to grab his jacket. the group all glance up curiously. “just stay there, baby i’m coming okay?” he tells you, trying to reassure you as he hears you weep a little. “what’s wrong?” natasha asks, and bradley briefly pulls away. “emergency.” he states simply, not bothering to say goodbye properly as he runs from the bar.

bradley runs five blocks to get there, not bothering to hang up so you could probably hear him running, he’s out of breath and his chest burns. sure enough, the front doors open a crack and his stomach feels like lead. he hangs up, entering the home with confidence. he spots a silhouette in the hallway, shouting out to them. the intruder peers around the door, eyes wide with surprise. “get outta here!” bradley snaps, storming forward. the burglar dodges, running straight out the house with whatever he had grabbed. the second your scream meets his ears, bradley runs to the bedroom, bursting through the door. the second burglar is pulling you from the closet, and in the struggle you drop your phone. bradley catches a glance of an ongoing call with 911, and relaxes. he focuses on the stranger, grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking him away from you, shoving him to the floor. bradley, blinded with rage of the idea of the person hurting you, he lands punch after punch on the guy; who wails and tries to scramble away. the sound of you crying makes him stop, not to mention the guy had gone limp and he didn’t want to kill him.

“baby, c’mere, it’s okay.” he whispers, carefully wrapping his arms around you as you cradle arno close. “i’m here, baby girl.” bradley tells you, as you wrap an arm around him, still holding your puppy. pulling away suddenly, you grab your phone, standing carefully on shaky knees with bradley’s help. “i’m here..” you tell the operator, following your boyfriend out of the house. “everything’s fine. my boyfriend is here; i’m okay.” you state, sitting on the wall outside of your home; shivering a little in the cold air. bradley drapes his jacket over your shoulders, rubbing your arms as arno wiggles to get out of your grasp. you carefully put arno down on the wall, keeping a hand on his side so he didn’t wander nor fall. “they want to talk to you brad.” you mutter, offering your phone.

bradley nods, taking the phone. “hello?” he greets, and the operator immediately responds. “hello, sir. are you bradley?” she asks, and he nods a bit stupidly considering she couldn’t see him. “yeah, i’m bradley.” he replies, and he hears some typing. “can you confirm what happened tonight?” the operator asks, and he subconsciously wraps his arm around you when you rub at your watery eyes, rubbing your arm to soothe you. “yeah, of course. i was at the bar with some of my colleagues when i got a call about 10 to maybe 15 minutes ago from my girlfriend saying there were people inside our house, i came home and scared one off; the other is knocked out in our bedroom.” he explains, watching arno sniff around the edge of the wall. “how did you get home?” she asks, and he nods again. “i ran. it’s about five blocks from the bar. i didn’t drink much so it wasn’t too bad.” bradley recounts how many drinks he had, he only had a whiskey and coke and two shots.

you sniffle a little, leaning into bradley as he continues to answer the operator’s question. your body absorbs his warmth, yet you still shiver under his jacket. his arm tightens around your shoulders, squeezing you closer. sirens signal the police’s arrival, and he’s able to hang up now that the operator’s job was done. “c’mere, pumpkin i’ve got you. are you hurt?” bradley asks, cradling your tear-stained face. “no..” you mumble, cuddling into his chest. “i’m so glad you’re here.” you sniffle. bradley nods. “i’ll always be here for you, baby girl. always.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[spicyyy-muffin]

Hide n Seek

Scare kink, size kink, this is literally pure smut please be warned. 18+

“catch me if you can”

i pressed my walkie on its specific channel to ghost.

“you’re an idiot y/l/n” he spoke through the Bluetooth device in my ear

“get outta my ear McTavish”

I climbed over old couches and rusted warehouse equipment. I needed to find a good place to hide that wasn't blown to pieces or see through.

turning off my walkie and even going as far as lowering the volume in the bluetooth device in my ear.

 I would never live it down if he found me.

“he's got tha name ghost fora reason, you daft dimbo.”

“don’t you think i’m aware?”

I crouched and squeezed in between a small space under an abandoned desk.

trying to make myself as small as possible, i curled up bringing any residue around me as a cover.

“He's gonna get you little one.”

The quiet groan of the door forced me to shut the device off completely.

his footsteps i couldn’t hear, aside for the slightest crunch in gravel beneath his combat boots growing increasingly closer to me.

looking through the cracks in the metal, no guns were drawn except for a knife in his right hand.

my heart sank, i trusted him with my life. but spooking a member of 141 was a death wish. and catching them at the wrong time would be a one way ticket to wherever my six feet deep hole waited for me. 

he slithered through the door, continuing to the next room while I waited for complete silence.

I opted for the door he came through, thinking he would be in an entirely different side of the building than me.

I kept my hands free of any weapon, preparing for the slightest sign I might have to run or crawl my way out.

I stood at the top of a flight of stairs. no sound, no lights, no gravel, I could have been alone.

a breath shot down my neck.

in seconds I was against a wall with a burly man pushing against me. his cool blade against the soft of my neck.

his eyes glowed into mine, heavy breaths breaking the silence.

"I thought you were the shit?"

I shuffled my arms underneath him trying to find a leeway. His eyes brightened in amusement.

The fabric on his face lifted revealing his mouth seconds before he dropped it to my neck.

The knife was digging into the left side of my neck, drawing blood in his wake. Hurting more the harder his kisses became.

“Ghost, Mctavish is- he’s right-” 

He brought his head up to look into my eyes, “at the bar two blocks from here. You underestimated my intentions for hide and seek sweetheart.” 

Pocketing the knife, his hands rustled with my clothing until they landed on the button of my jeans. 

On his knees he looked up to me. Even though he was supposed to be feeling vulnerable we both knew that I was the only submissive one here. 

“I wanna taste.” 

My fingers traced his plump lips first, short stumble scratching me.

I smiled looking down at him, trying to memoriize the outline of his beautiful face. 

“I want a kiss.”

In seconds his large hands covering my cheeks, lips ravishing mine as if we were running out of time. Time seemed to slow down when his tongue traced my bottom lip, pulling away to take a breath and pushing into me deeper. His hands were everywhere, m,y hair, taking a minute to wrap around my throat, he reached both of them down under my butt and lifted me on his waist. 

A few inches above him again he pulled away to look up to me. 

“Don know how long I can do this sweetheart.” 

He panted onto my mouth. 

“I wanna taste you so bad but another part of me is saying I should jus fill you to the brim.” 

A hot bolt of arousal shot down my stomach into my clit. 

I laughed against his lips kissing them one more time. “Maybe you should just hurt me.” 

He groaned pressing his forehead onto mine. 

“There you go saying some dumb shit again.” 

My back pressed against the cold concrete floor, combat pants somewhere across the room his head was in between my legs and he wasted no time. 

Switching between tongue fucking me and wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking so hard I knew I wasn’t going to last long. 

I threaded my fingers through his hair trying to mask my sounds. 

He pulled away his hand gripping my throat, “Unless the bar Soap’s in can hear you, you’re not loud enough. N what does tha mean angel?” 

My breath was shaky, “I don- I don’t get to cum.” 

“Mmmm good girl.” 

His mouth resumed and this time I let my noises be whatever they wanted. My orgasm consumed me. My lower back lifted from the ground as I pleaded with him to stop before he flipped me around and did exactly what he said he was gonna. 

He filled me to the brim. Hot pants on the back of my neck I tried to grip onto anything I could to distract me from the pleasure I was feeling from his cock hitting my cervix. 

“Sososo- so good, please don’t.” 

“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna.” Seconds, minutes im not sure how long until I could hear the slight sound of a phone buzzing. 

His phone. 

He flipped me around again, putting my legs around his neck he found new spots that drew me crazier to the edge. 

One palm covered my mouth as he leaned down to my ear, “Be a good girl and stay quiet for me.” 

My brows scrunched up before he reached his other hand down to grab his cellphone and he answered the call. I could hear our captains voice over his balls slapping against me. 

“Ghost, you copy?”

“Yes Sir.” 

“Clear?”

“Yes Sir.” 

“I have one more important thing to discuss with you, when-” The Captain continued as Ghost screwed his eyes shut in pure irritation. 

“Yes Sir.” 

“Good.” 

The call ended and he abandoned his phone near my head and removed his other from my mouth. 

“Fuckin prick.”

He smirked down at me.

“It turned you on, could feel you squeezing me harder.” 

“AsshoLE-” He pounded into me harder. 

“We can try that another time.” My vision turned murky as stars exploded behind my eyes. 

“Fuckin hell, I don't think I’ll ever get tired of that.” 

[ragingbookdragon]

It’s an odd moment when he receives the text from Captain MacTavish that simply says, I need to see you, Lieutenant. Now. Because the old man only ever calls him Lieutenant when he’s in trouble, and JJ can’t remember doing anything worth mentioning that would merit being called to see the Skipper. Regardless, he shoots back a quick, Yes, sir. And books it, appearing moments later in Captain MacTavish’s office, eyes widening in shock when he sees the older man sitting in the seat across from the old man.

“Simon?” He asks, confusion bleeding into him, and then it instantly turns to concern; Captain only calls him Lieutenant when he’s in trouble. He hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s someone else. Mum. Mum’s in trouble. “Is mum okay? Where is she? What’s going on? Simon, wha—” He’s so panicked, he can barely get the words out.

“Lieutenant Price,” Captain MacTavish booms. “Easy, son. Y’ur mum’s fine.”

JJ’s shoulders droop a bit as he looks to Simon who returns him an easy look. “Missus is fine. I just needed to talk to you.”

“You couldn’t’ve, I dunno, sent a text? Called?” His face darkens and he glares at Captain MacTavish. “You scared the shit outta me, sir. I thought I was in deep shit. Respectfully, sir.”

Captain MacTavish raises a brow. “‘Ave ya done anythin’ tha’ ya need to be in shite about?”

“Never, sir,” JJ replies almost cheekily. “I’m the golden child. I never get in trouble. It’s why Lieutenant Garrick always gets in trouble instead of me.”

“Bull,” Captain MacTavish snorts, glancing at Simon. “Good to see ya again, Simon. Drop by soon, yeah?”

“Will do, Captain,” Simon says with a grin, shakes his hand and turns, putting a hand on JJ’s back to lead him away from the office.

“So, what’s going on, Simon?” He asks. “I take it this isn’t a social call.”

“No wonder you were accepted into the SAS. You’re deduction skills are imperceptible.”

JJ glares at him. “You’re a real smart-ass, you know that, don’t you?”

Simon noogies him. “Passed it on too.” He leads them into a meeting room. “Wanted to talk to you about somethin’ important. Involved ‘ur mum.”

“Is she—”

“She’s fine. I promise,” he stresses. “But it does involve ‘er.”

JJ looks at him, brows furrowing. “You look…nervous. I can count on two hands how many times I’ve ever seen it. This moment makes two hands.” He’s the same height as Simon now, actually a few inches taller; he almost has to crane his neck to look down at him. “What’s up?”

Simon clears his throat, inhales and exhales before he pats his pockets from his jeans to his shirt to his jacket pocket before he pulls out a small black box and hands it over to JJ who opens it, eyes widening at the solid gold band nestled inside, a more delicate diamond band sitting next to it.

JJ looks to him and Simon’s lips purse as he murmurs, “I wanted to ask you before I asked her.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “Not for formality…but…”

“Because I’m her son.”

“Because you’re his son,” Simon replies. “I want you to be okay with it. If not…I understand. Won’t change how I feel about your mum, of course. I’ll still stay. She…she means everything to me. So, you do.”

“Simon,” he says lowly.

The older man bypasses him, leans against the table and hangs his head. “I know what this means. I know it changes everything, and I’m not trying to hurt you. I love your mother. I have for a very long time. Like I said, it doesn’t change if you say no, but I—”

“Simon,” JJ interrupts with a calm smile and the man falters; he reaches out, lays a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ve spent my entire life introducing you and mum as my parents. In my eyes, you’ve been married.”

“You…you’re okay with it?” Simon asks quietly.

JJ pulls his hand away, closes the ring box and pulls the man into a hug. “I love my mum. I loved my father. And I love you, Simon.” He pats the man’s back. “I happily give you my blessing to marry mum.”

Simon’s eyes gather tears, and he clears his throat heavily as he wraps his arms around the younger man, hugging him tightly. “I was scared of askin’ you…I didn’t want to discredit his memory.”

He leans back and looks at the man. “My father would be honored that you took care of us all these years. And I think he’s doing just fine knowing that mum’s heart is being loved after all these years too.”

Simon gazes at him, lifts a hand and gently brushes his head. “I’ve ‘ad nothin’ but respect for your dad all these years. I’ve tried to do right by what ‘e asked of me. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to fall in love with ‘er, but I really do love your mum.”

“I know you do,” he replies, grin practically breaking his face. “And I know you love me too.”

“I do,” Simon affirms. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever been able to do all my life. The greatest accomplishment. My pride.”

JJ feels his throat tighten; it wasn’t often that Simon ever truly opened himself up. “I’m proud that you’re my dad.”

“I love you, son,” Simon murmurs, pulling JJ back in for a hug, this time, his hand rests on the back of his neck, thumb brushing where his spine connects to his skull.

“I love you, dad,” he replies, and he feels like a seven-year-old boy again who just lost his father, hands clenching in the back of a younger Simon’s sweatshirt as he buries his face in the man’s stomach, remembering what it was like to be loved by a father like Captain Jonathan Price.

[slutforsilverfoxes]

He's a God, He's a Man

[A/N: This… is filth. Absolutely shameless PWP (there’s a hint of plot for context of their relationship if you squint). Thomas Shelby could literally step on me and I would apologize for being in the path of his foot tbh.]

—————

Thomas Shelby is many things- ever intelligent, inexplicably cunning, unfathomably brave, sinfully wicked, and the luckiest son of a bitch in the Peaky Blinders to walk around with a spitfire of a woman on his arm every day and take her to bed every night.

“That’s enough outta you now!” Your sharp reprimand carries over the din of the tavern, piquing Tommy’s interest. Casually enjoying his first love, aged Irish whiskey, as the hopeful business associate before him prattles on about his prize-winning horse, Tommy subtly knocks twice on the wooden doors to the window hiding the private room from the remainder of the Garrison.

One of the barmaids eases the doors open so Tommy can get a view of what’s going on, ducking her head in deference when he waves her away, his use for her satisfied. A sleazy looking man with an even sleazier-looking shock of hair above his upper lip trails his fingers along your arm as you place a pint in front of him, and your raven-haired lover’s mouth sets into a hard line as he watches the scene unfold. You deflect yet another advance with a swipe of your hand and exaggerated eye roll, and Tommy returns his attention to the man before him, secure in the knowledge that you can handle yourself against the likes of that scum. 

Until he hears lousy fuck and useless whore.

Excusing himself from his meeting, Tommy drains the remainder of his tumbler with an eerie calm and rises from the table, opening the door to the main room of the Garrison with the full intention of sending this man to meet his maker.

Your lover watches with rapt fascination as you emit a playful, two-toned whistle before a glint of metal flies from your hand, landing between two of the man’s splayed fingers on the bar top, a trickle of red oozing down the side of his middle finger where the knife Tommy gifted you for your anniversary has just grazed skin. “There’s only one man in this world who talks to me like that and you sure ain’t him, eh?”

He lewdly sucks on the bleeding finger before firing back, “Oh yeah? And who’s that, lovey?”

Leaning against the doorframe, Tommy loudly clears his throat to announce his presence as he lazily strikes a match, lighting the cigarette dangling between his lips and cocking his head in a silent challenge. His icy eyes are trained on the nuisance who won’t take no for an answer and you smirk to yourself, relishing in the power that radiates off of his lithe body. “Why, that would be one Mister Shelby,” you simper, “and he once killed a man for looking at his horse the wrong way. Imagine what he’d do to the likes of you.”

“Shelby? As in Thomas?”

“Ay, lovey,” you spit the term back in his face. “Don’t tell me you don’t know whose pub you’re in.” He swallows audibly and you carry on with a wicked grin. “If you want to walk out of here on your own two legs, I’d suggest leaving right about now.” As the alcohol-induced rose of his cheeks fades into a pallor of fear, you lean in and drop your voice. Tommy can’t hear your final comment, but his lips quirk into a smile at the sound of your warm laugh ringing out across the Garrison as the man topples off his stool in his haste to escape from your presence.

Flicking the match he was playing with to the floor, Tommy makes his way over to right the fallen seat before taking up the vacated spot, easing the knife out of the wood and tucking it back into your skirt pocket. “You enjoyed that a bit too much.”

“It would seem I’ve got a little Shelby in me now, eh?” You place two fingers of amber liquor before him, leaning against the bar top on your elbows and coyly glancing down at his lap. “I suppose little isn’t quite the right word, though.”

Tommy swipes a thumb over your bottom lip turned up in a wolfish smile, icy blue eyes crackling to life. “Careful, pet, or you’ll bring Arthur’s temper out.”

Leaning closer and letting your eyes drift closed as the heady scent of Tommy mixed with his signature smoke and whiskey envelops you, you ask, “How so?”

“Because,” your eyes snap open when you feel the rough pads of his fingertips against your skin, the pressure of his grip on your chin gentle yet possessive, “he’ll lose money if I kick everyone out of the pub to fuck you on this bar.”

Snagging the cigarette from between his lips, you take a long drag before sighing contentedly and replacing it in his mouth, his sharp gaze tracking your every move. “I’ll meet you in your office, Mister Shelby.”

______

You hear the telltale sounds of the office door creaking open then closing, followed by the familiar padding of Tommy’s footsteps leading him to his desk, fourteen unhurried paces. You don’t dare raise your head or disturb your position, on your knees, palms resting on your thighs, eyes cast downward. Tommy lets out a quiet hum as he cards his fingers through your hair when he walks by- a simple motion, but one that has your blood singing in your veins nonetheless. He shuffles some files around on the desk before settling into the leather chair with a soft groan, casually flipping through the morning paper as he lights another cigarette and the smell of smoke permeates the room.

You try to calm your breathing, to quell the excitement growing in your body at the thought of what’s to come. Out there in the real world, you’re all sharp edges and fiery comments; in here, in the sanctity of Tommy’s presence and his presence alone, you love to give yourself up completely. To let him think for you, to command you, to own your very mind, body, and soul. You live and love to serve him- he’s not just your man, he’s your god, and oh do you love to worship at his feet, to prostrate yourself before him, to pray to his visage.

He merely pats his thigh twice and your body comes alive, fueled by a primal urge to bask in the aura that is Thomas Shelby. You’re by his side in an instant, cheek pressed against the deliciously rigid muscle of his thigh as his fingers knead your scalp.

“Such a good little pet,” he murmurs softly, and your eyes close in contentment as you let out a happy sigh. His fingers suddenly tighten in your hair, yanking on the dark strands until you’re forced to meet his eyes, a hungry wolf gazing down upon his lamb, a reverent parishioner looking up to her deity. “Mine. And only mine.”

“Yes, sir,” you gasp out, but not from fear. You could never be afraid of him. “I belong to you, Tommy.”

He’s caressing your face now, the rough pads of his fingertips causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin that’s already humming from his touch. “Mm. And yet other men have the fucking audacity to touch what’s mine.”

“Maybe they don’t know I’m yours.”

His eyes flash with rage moments before you register his hand around the column of your throat, pulling you up to stand before him. “And just what the fuck does that mean, pet?”

“I only- mean-” You feel your legs growing weak from the lack of oxygen, and Tommy shifts his grip higher, thumb pressing into your cheek to pull you even closer. His breath fans across your face as he growls, “Spit it out, love.”

“I mean that you should mark me,” you whimper pathetically, what was once a dull ache between your thighs now an insistent throbbing. “Leave your fingerprints on my neck. Bite me hard enough to draw blood. Brand your fucking initials into my skin, Tommy.” You hurriedly unbutton your blouse and bare your unadulterated skin to him in offering. “I want everyone to know I’m yours.”

“Now you’ve gone and done it,” he smirks with a slight shake of his head, in awe of your complete and utter devotion to him.

And then he’s on you, pouncing like a hungry predator upon his prey, forcing his tongue past your lips as he undoes the fastenings on your skirt. You help him shimmy the fabric down your legs and rid yourself of your undergarments as well, desperate to feel his masterful hands roving your naked body. His fingers dance along your throat creating a roadmap that his lips follow. You let your head fall back with a whine, granting him access to nip at the soft flesh as you fumble with the buttons of his vest and then his shirt. Tommy pulls away from you to shrug his upper layers off, and you take advantage of the momentary reprieve from his sensual assault to trace the sun rays on his pectoral muscle with your tongue as the ink is revealed to you.

He releases a breathless chuckle when you moan at the taste of his skin and asks, “Ready to put that quick-witted mouth of yours to good use, my girl?”

Pressing a final kiss to his chest, you pull back and nod with a smile, legs parting instinctively when he eases you backwards to sit in his worn leather chair. You let your hand fall between your thighs to spread the wetness growing there with every passing moment in Tommy’s dominating presence, coupling a pout with an indignant whine when he takes his cock out and strokes it languidly just out of your reach. “Come closer,” you beg, saliva pooling in your mouth at the mere sight of him.

“Stop touching what’s mine, brat,” he orders, eyebrow cocked and gaze trained on your fingers as they slide between your glistening folds. You emit a huff before dropping your hands obediently to your sides, lips parted and tongue out in anticipation of your reward. Tommy praises you softly, then guides his cock inside your eagerly waiting mouth, placing his hand around your throat and pushing deeper until he can feel the substantial bulge against his palm. You moan and inadvertently swallow several times around him, the twin sensations causing Tommy to release a low groan that sets your nerves alight with unabashed lust.

Placing your hand over his, you tighten your grip suggestively and look up at Tommy from under your lashes. You earn yourself a sinister smile in response, and you shift your hands to the arms of his chair, an open invitation for him to do with you as he desires.

Tommy doesn’t miss a beat, his fingers on your throat expertly placing pressure on the points that have you seeing stars as his left hand tangles in your hair to guide your mouth along his cock. You moan with abandon as he mercilessly fucks your mouth, tears spilling over your waterline to match the drool slipping down your chin. The chair shifts back sharply, protesting Tommy’s frenzied pace, and you hook your fingers into his belt loops to try and steady your body. Looking up, you find the absolute picture of ecstasy, sweat-slicked strands of the brunette’s hair dancing across his forehead in time with the rocking of his hips, his supple bottom lip captured between his teeth just barely muffling his feral grunts. The distinct taste of his precum pervades your senses and a whimper escapes your lips that are stretched comically around his thick cock.

Tommy pulls back abruptly, and you whine his name in protest at the loss despite the stinging sensation in your lips. He admonishes you with a click of his teeth for the bratty sound, tightening his fingers around the column of your throat in a grip that’s sure to leave bruises, just as you requested. Using his free hand to uncurl your fingers from his belt loop, Tommy guides your hand to his throbbing cock. You immediately know what he wants, and a strangled curse falls past your lips. Applying pressure, you twist your hand along the length of him, feeling his cock twitch against your skin and closing your eyes seconds before his cum is coating your face. He releases your throat from his grasp and you fall back in the chair, darting your tongue out to wet your chapped lips and moaning at the taste of his release.

“Thank you, sir,” you offer in an utterly cock drunk haze with a demure smile. Tommy feels himself already growing hard again at the sight of your delicate fingers drawing his cum into your greedy mouth, your chest heaving, face flushed, and legs parted in invitation. He kneels to get on your level and you surge forward for a heated kiss, raking your nails along the shaved sides of his head before tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging sharply. He laughs at your eagerness, a low and dark sound that sends yet another wave of arousal shooting to your core.

“I’m sure you’ve left your mark now,” you speak between desperate kisses, moaning as he breaks away from your mouth to drag his nose along your burning skin. You cry out sharply when his teeth follow the same path, nipping and sucking down the hollow of your throat to the curve where your neck and shoulder meet.

“I’m not through with you yet,” he murmurs against your flushed skin before sinking his teeth into the sensitive spot. You throw your head back with a low groan at the prickling sensation followed by the soothing of his velvet tongue, wrapping your legs around his lower back and trapping him against your body. Tommy can feel the heat emanating from your center, and he mercifully slides his middle finger between your folds as he shifts to mark the blank canvas on the other side of your neck.

“Tommy!” You rock your hips against him, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit, absolutely desperate for release. He adds a second finger, expertly curling them in time with your movements and grinning wickedly at the sinful sounds he’s able to draw from you.

“Who do you belong to, love?”

“You,” you’re panting now, climbing higher by the second. “Only you. You own me.”

The pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves and the languid pace of his fingers is driving you wild in the most sensational of ways. He licks a stripe up your neck, collecting the sweat beading there before pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. His voice is deathly low when he growls, “Say my name. Who do you belong to, love?”

“Thomas,” you gasp as your orgasm washes over you in waves, your nails digging into his broad shoulders and legs shaking against his muscular back, using his body as an anchor to try and tether yourself to this world. “I belong to you, Thomas.”

“Good little whore,” he praises softly, making sure to hold eye contact with you while he licks his fingers clean. “Now,” he smirks as he tugs on your bottom lip and you dart your tongue out to brush against the pad of his thumb, “we’ll revisit this idea of branding another day, hm?”

You nod bashfully, and Tommy presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth before untangling your limbs from around his body. “Bend over the desk facing the door with your legs spread.”

Blinking hazily at him in your post-orgasm stupor, you shake your head, not comprehending his words. “What?”

He leans against the mantel, crossing one ankle over the other as he slides a cigarette out of the box from his pocket. Lifting one eyebrow at you as he casually strikes a match, he speaks around the stick between his lips. “You’re not going to like what happens if I have to repeat myself.”

You scramble to stand on your jellied legs, grateful for Tommy’s foresight to have the desk hold your body up. You tuck your fingertips over the smooth edge of the front of his desk, inhaling sharply as your bare breasts meet the cool wood when you fold in half. You hear Tommy groan softly as he sinks into his now vacated leather seat, and he easily kicks your feet apart to bare your body completely to him. You can feel his hungry gaze on you and the wisps of smoke wafting over your body with each controlled exhale from between his beautiful lips. Closing your eyes, you envision the way he balances the cigarette between lithe fingers, how the tip of his tongue meets the end of the stick before each drag, how his lips curl to clear the smoke from his lungs. Craning your neck to look at Tommy because the image in your brain pales in comparison to the man himself, you all but purr at the sight of him casually leaning back in his chair, one hand cradling a cigarette, the other lazily stroking his rock hard length. Saliva pools in your mouth, and you swear you can taste him on your tongue, feel the stretch of him filling you where you need him most.

His cigarette gradually dwindles until he’s forced to put it out. Still, he remains seated and silent, the very picture of dominance and self-control.

“Tommy,” you finally break the silence, the ache between your thighs having grown into an insistent throbbing, “I’m ready for that little bit of Shelby in me now.”

Instead of the heavy weight of his cock filling you as you’d hoped, you feel the sharp sting of the flat of Tommy’s hand against your pussy, the thick ring on his finger sending a jolt through your sensitive clit. You let out an indignant cry and try to rub your thighs together to alleviate the twinge of pain, growling in annoyance when you’re blocked by Tommy’s leg between yours.

“Little bit?” he mocks from his spot behind you, smoothing his hand threateningly over the globe of your ass. “Shall I get one of my brothers to fuck you, love?”

“My sincerest apologies, Mister Shelby,” you hiss over your shoulder. “I need your long, thick, perfect cock inside me. Please,” you’re quick to tack on.

“Better.” He presses a kiss to your delicate lips before cracking his hand against your flesh. You whimper at the duality of the sensations, desperate to feel his mouth on you again and excited to see the bright red imprint of his hand on your cheek tomorrow morning. The wooden legs of the chair squeak against the floor as Tommy stands abruptly, and you feel the head of his cock press against your entrance. “But next time without the attitude.”

You nod dumbly, overwhelmed by your need for him and ready to vocalize this very thought when a knock sounds at the office door.

“Enter,” Tommy calls, sheathing himself inside you with one sharp thrust as Arthur’s broad frame fills the doorway. Your jaw falls slack and your eyes roll back at the exquisite stretch, a strangled moan catching in your throat.

“You bastard,” the eldest Shelby laughs, “you’ve stolen everyone’s favorite barmaid during the rush of the afternoon.”

“She’s serving me quite well, Arthur,” Tommy cracks easily in response. With the way your man brags about you, you’re sure the three oldest Shelby brothers possess more knowledge about your most intimate bits than even you do, but still you feel your skin grow hot at Arthur having found you in such a compromising position. You try to tuck your face into your shoulder for even a modicum of modesty, but Tommy yanks on your hair and forces your head up as he maintains a steady rocking of his hips, pathetic mewls falling past your lips every time he bottoms out and your knuckles turning white from your tight grip on the desk.

“You realize,” Arthur starts with a wicked grin, “the door says Shelby Company Limited, don’t you, Tommy? And Johnny and I are very much part of this company.”

Tommy barks out a laugh that holds no humor. “You boys so much as lay a finger on my girl and you’ll be in the Cut before your next breath.” The low growl of his voice and his overt possessiveness has your walls fluttering around him, and Tommy folds over you to speak directly in your ear. “Tell him who you belong to.”

You lift your gaze to meet Arthur’s with a gleam in your eye as Tommy picks up his pace, forcing you to raise your voice over the lewd sound of his skin slapping against yours. “I belong to Tommy.”

He gathers your hair into a ponytail, using it as leverage to pound into you even harder and commands, “Louder.”

You barely register the door slamming shut as you clench around Tommy’s cock, his warm release painting your walls as your own juices flow down your thighs and you come undone with the declaration, “I belong to Thomas Shelby!”

He presses a line of gentle kisses along your spine while your body writhes beneath him in the aftershocks of your afternoon tryst. “That’s my girl,” he praises, tenderly stroking your hair. “That’s my good little girl.”

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Pretty As A Picture (bau x cowboy!reader)

Warnings: a shelter? (I don't know if that's a warning)

taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade

“(Y/N)!” A shriek reaches your ears, and you smile as a small figure rushes towards you, colliding with your leg as she hugs you.

“Hey Ava, how ya been?” You ask, sweeping her into your arms, “Keepin’ outta trouble?”

“Yes sir!” She giggles, “‘Be wants to do your makeup again!”

“Again?” You ask, Ava giggles once more as she nods.

“Yup!” She nods, “But she says we can help too!”

“What are we still doin’ here then?” You ask dramatically, “Where’s Phoebe?”

“Rec room,” You nod, beginning the short walk there, nodding and smiling at the residents when they greet you, the kids running up to you. You stop and say hi to each of them, asking them about their day.

When you eventually reach the rec room (a room with a table and a variety of different board games), you place Ava down, seeing Phoebe crying.

“Hey Ava, why don’t you go find your Mama?” Ava nods, running off and you turn to her sister, “What’s wrong?”

“My boyfriend dumped me,” She says with a sniff, “Says I’m not good enough,”

You push your anger aside for a moment, “He's an idiot. Need a hug?” She nods, wrapping her arms around you as you squeeze her close to your chest. “Want me ta beat ‘im up?” She gives a small laugh as she shakes her head. “I could prob’ly do it and get away with it,” You said, “I am an FBI Agent… Just sayin’,”

“You’re too nice to do something like that,” She snorts.

“Never thought I’d be offended bein’ called nice but here we are…” Phoebe rolls her eyes, laughing again.

She pulls away, sniffing once more before wiping her cheeks, “Right, let’s make you look pretty,”

“You sayin’ I ain’t pretty now?”

“No comment,” Phoebe laughs.

Ava comes bounding up to you again, throwing herself into your lap, and wrapping her arms around your neck, “Makeup time!” She screams, you wince slightly at the volume but nod with a laugh. She cheers and three other kids (Brandon, Eleanor, and Noah) run into the room.

You make sure to sit still (in fear of being yelled at by Ava) as Phoebe draws a line down the centre of your face in eyeliner, instructing the kids not to go over the line. They all nod, serious faces and you have to hold back a laugh.

You must have sat there for an hour as Phoebe worked with precision and the four kids grabbed random eye shadows from a palette Phoebe no longer used. When Phoebe’s done, she leans back and gives a small nod.

“Can I take a picture?” She asks, when you nod, she smiles, quickly snapping a photo on her phone. “Thanks!” You give her a smile, nodding again.

“Stop nodding!” Ava groans and you put your hands up in surrender as she waves a makeup brush in front of your face as a weapon.

They didn’t let you stand up for another hour (and then insist that Phoebe take a picture of their side as well). 

Phoebe grins when you’re done, “There, pretty as a picture,” She grins and her and the kids filter out. 

You turn to the door, hearing footsteps. Sarah, Ava and Phoebe’s mum. “Sarah, how’ve you been?”

“Alright, I’ve got a job interview tomorrow,” Not phased by your face covered in two very distinctly different makeup looks (it was a common sight around here anyway).

“That’s great!” You beam, “You got somethin’ to wear? You need a ride there? I’ve got the day off-”

“No, no, you stay home and relax, it’s all sorted out,” She smiles and you nod.

“Good, you’re gonna smash it outta the park,” You say sincerely, she gives you a smile.

“Thank you, I’ll let you know how it goes,” She says, “And thank you for making sure Phoebe’s okay, but go home, relax, put your feet up.”

“Yes Ma’am-” You’re cut off by your phone. Pulling it out of your pocket, you see Hotch’s name printed across the screen. “Maybe not…”

Hotch gives you the basics over the phone. Child abduction case in Nevada. When he hangs up, you sigh and look at Sarah with a small shrug before saying goodbye to everyone and heading to your car.

You can’t help but feel like you’re missing something whilst everyone stares at you on your way up to the bullpen but shrug it off. It was probably nothing anyway. You carry on, deciding to take the stairs today. You throw your bag on top of your desk as you turn to the others, who are all staring at you, jaws dropped.

“What?”

“You’ve got a bit of makeup just-” Morgan motions to his whole face and your eyes widen because shit shit shit you forgot to take it off!

You groan, knowing you’re never going to live this down - ever. “Are we going to get an explanation for this?” JJ smirks, folding her arms.

“Well, there’s a lovely girl at the shelter who wants to be a makeup artist and the other kids wanted to help, so,” You said with a shrug. Morgan huffs a laugh, “Hey, these kids are gonna be the next Picasso. Mark my words,” There’s a small pause before you turn to JJ, “You wouldn’t happen to have a makeup wipe, would you?”

[jaycewrites-192000]

In Every Timeline [Chapter One]

Taglist- @ameliabs-world

(If anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know ^w^)

A young girl at the age of ten, makes her way home from school. She didn’t live too far away from her school, so she didn’t mind the walk to and back. In fact, she found herself enjoying the walks. It gave her some alone time, some time to herself, some time to think.

It was nice.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last long. Today, some middle schoolers decided to give her a hard time. She was stopped by two older boys, each of them trying to come off as intimidating.

“You lost little girl?”

“Where’s your little friends? Or, maybe…Don’t tell me you’re one of those friendless geeks!”

“I bet! Just look at her!”

She inwardly sighs at their attempts at scaring her and hurting her feelings. Though, what they said wasn’t entirely wrong. She really didn’t have any friends. It was hard to make friends at her school. Or rather, it was hard for her to make friends. She just gave up after a while.

She wasn’t sad about it or anything. She was doing just fine.

“Can you please get out of my way?” She finally speaks.

“Huh? Trying to order us around pipsqueak!?”

“Annoying little brat! We outta reach you a lesson!”

The two took a step closer to her. This time the sigh left her. She wasn’t a great fighter. She was only ten after all. But she did deal with her fair share of bullies, and she was able to take care of them on her own.

This was no different. Just two dumb bullies in her way.

The first one raised his fist and aimed it towards her face. She quickly dodged before deliver a punch of her own to his stomach. She wasn’t sure if he was actually hurt from it, or if it was just shock that made him stumble back. But she didn’t waste time as she did the same to the other, this time, kicking him in the gut as hard as she could.

“Damn you!”

The girl quickly tried running past them, but was grabbed by the arm and yanked back.

“Hold her still.”

One of the boys cracked his knuckles as he spoke. “We were just gonna let you go with a light slap on the wrist. But now you’re gonna get it! How would you like a few broken bones!?”

Just as he said this, fast approaching footsteps could be heard. And before she knew it, the one threatening to harm her was being kicked in the head. He was sent to the ground roughly, unconscious.

Standing above him, was a boy around her age. With a bored expression, he turned to the one holding her. “How lame. Picking on a little girl.” He muttered before rushing towards him. He jumped up into the air, and delivered the same devastating kick he dealt the first one.

He landed with ease, and turned to face the girl. “You alright?” He asks. The girl blinks before nodding her head. “Ok. See ya.” The boy says before starting to walk off.

“Wait a second!”

The boy stopped when she called for him. “What?” He asks. “How…How did you do that?” She asks him. “Do what?” The boy tilts his head. “The flying kick you just did!” The girl says, pointing back to the still unconscious middle schoolers.

“Oh that.” The boy says, placing his hands in his pockets. “I take martial arts classes with my grandpa.” He explains. “Can I do it too?” Her question confused him.

“Where is your grandpa’s dojo? I wanna take lessons too.”

“What? No way, you totally suck at fighting. It’d be a waste of time.” He says with a frown. The girl furrows her brows. “I do not!” She argues.

“I saw you trying to fight back against those guys. You barely left a mark on them. Then you tried to run away like a coward.”

“But there were two of them!”

“Which is why you shouldn’t have tried fighting them. Especially if you don’t know how to fight in the first place.”

“Then isn’t that even more of a reason to let me practice at the dojo? Then I can do those cool kicks like you do and I won’t have to worry about guys like that again.”

The boy sighs and starts walking away again. “No way. It would take you forever to get on my level.” The girl followed after him. “Like I said! That’s more of a reason why I should take lessons!”

“I already said no. And stop following me!”

“Not until you tell me where the dojo is!”

“No!”

This kind of back and forth between the two would go on for at least a week after that. It was by some stroke of luck that the boy went to the same school as her. So, she’d make sure to follow after him and try her best to convince him to let her take lessons with him.

But every time, he turned her down.

One day, she decided to follow him without him knowing. Sure it was creepy, but she was only doing it to find out where he was taking martial arts classes. After that, and after applying to join, she’d leave him alone. By then, she would have done what she had sought out to accomplish.

Her plan had proved to be successful, as she trailed him to the dojo. She waited for the boy to go inside before waiting outside. She didn’t mind the wait. It would be worth it if she could learn how to fight like him.

“What are you doing out here?”

The girl looks to her left, there stood a young man with jet black hair. A cigarette hung loose from his lips, and even from where she stood, she could smell a hint of motor oil off his clothes.

“I’m waiting.” She answers simply, causing the man to raise an eyebrow. “Waiting for…?”

The girl looks up at the dojo. “I wanna learn how to fight. But that dummy won’t let me!” She pouts. “What dummy?” Asked the man. The girl opened her mouth, only for it to fall close again. What…was that boy’s name?

“Uh. He’s short, and has blonde hair. And he does really cool kicks.”

“Oh, Manjiro?” The man asks. “You friends with him?” The girl shakes her head with a frown. “I don’t like him! He’s a jerk! He said it would be a waste of time for me to learn how to fight. I’m not good at it, sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn!”

The man nods. “I agree.” He says before taking one last puff of his cigarette, then tossing on the ground and stepping on it. “I’m sorry about my little brother. He can be a pain sometimes.” Brother? This guy is that jerk’s brother? But he seems really nice.

“My name is Shinichiro Sano. Who are you?”

“Y/n L/n.”

The two talked for a while before the doors of the dojo opened, letting some kids out. Among them, was Manjiro and some other boy he was talking to. Manjiro seemed to have noticed Y/n, as an annoyed look crossed his face. “You again.”

“Who’s that?” Asked the taller boy with him. “Some brat.” Manjiro answers. “Hey!” Y/n scowls. “Manjiro, why don’t you think Y/n can take lessons here?” Asked Shinichiro. “Cause she sucks.” Manjiro says, as if Shinichiro should already know. “She’ll just get herself hurt.”

“Hm. I think that’s a great reason to let her try.” Said Shinichiro. “What do you think Baji?” The other boy hummed. “I guess? I mean, couldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll talk to Gramps about letting you take lessons.” Shinichiro tells Y/n, making her grin. “Thank you!” She beams.

Manjiro rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He says as he walks ahead. Baji gives Y/n a small wave before hurrying after him. “Hmph. Jerk.” Y/n mutters, watching Manjiro leave. “Don’t worry.” Shinichiro starts.

“He’ll get use to you soon.”

Luck must have been on Y/n’a side. Shinichiro’s grandfather accepted her into the dojo, and lessons began right away. And just as Shinichiro said, Manjiro, or “Mikey” as he liked to be referred to, slowly got use to her being around.

But he was still a bit of a jerk.

As for Shinichiro, he couldn’t be sweeter. Y/n really grew attached to him, she would go as far to say he was like an older brother to her. That gave her even more of a reason to show up for lessons.

Y/n became friends with Emma as well, she was really nice to her when they met. Y/n was hesitant at first, but slowly opened up to her. Whenever Y/n wasn’t taking lessons, she was hanging out with Emma.

As for Mikey, he too eventually grew more comfortable with Y/n. Turns out she wasn’t completely hopeless after all. At some point, those two set aside their little dislike of each other, and became pretty good friends.

Y/n would get to hang out with him and his friends, in time, becoming friends with them as well. And being the only girl in a group of boys, their behavior and mannerisms rubbed off on Y/n. Among the group she had to admit, Ken, or Draken, was her favorite.

He was surprisingly mature for his age, only being beat by Mitsuya. And that was only by a little. As for the others though, they were just a bunch of boys. But back to Draken-

There was a point where Y/n had grown to see him as an older brother. He was nice but could get stern if he needed to. And he was a great protector. Y/n could understand why Emma liked him so much.

Y/n would have saved that big brother title for Shinichiro, as he was a great brother to the Sano kids. But honestly, she saw him as more than that. She'd go as far to say, he was almost like a father figure to her.

It was just Y/n and her mom back home, as she and her husband divorced a couple years ago.

Shinichiro kind of filled that emptiness that Y/n's dad left her with. He was always so caring, always looked out for her, always wanted to know how she was doing. He’d even let her hang out at the shop while he worked. It was quite the sight. He was so focused, and he did his job well.

He was just the coolest.

Y/n really cared about each and every single one of them. Which is why, it was all the more difficult when she had to say goodbye.

Mikey had noticed Y/n's behavior had changed lately. Y/n was less talkative, less active. She didn’t want to do much of anything with anyone. It was weird. So of course, he decided to confront her about it.

He caught Y/n on the way to Shinichiro’s shop.

“You’re acting weird. More than usual. What’s going on?” He asks. Y/n shrugged. “It’s nothing.” Mikey rolled his eyes. “You expect me to believe that? Tell me.” Y/n suddenly stop walking, Mikey did as well. “Well?” He pries.

Y/n's shoulders began to tremble, soft sniffles came from her as tears filled her eyes. Mikey was slightly surprised by this. She never cried in front of him, or anyone, before. “Y/n?”

“I’m moving away.”

“What?”

Y/n wipe away her tears, sniffling before repeating herself. “I said, I’m moving away. Away from Tokyo, away from Japan all together.”

“Why?” Mikey asks, trying to ignore that funny feeling in his chest. “It’s because of my mom’s work. We’re leaving in a week.” Y/n tells him. Mikey fell silent, the only thing that could be heard was her sniffles and soft cries.

Everyone found out eventually, and they were just as upset as Y/n was. But there wasn’t anything anyone could do. She was leaving, and she didn’t know when, or if, she'd be back.

Ok! First chapter done! Chapter two is already in the works as this is being published, so hopefully you guys will get to read chapter two soon.

I hope you all enjoy this series!

[soleius]

🏹 sun signs as i see them;

happy valentine day my loves!

heres a lil something i’ve been working on for awhile as i’ve hit 100 followers (now 300+ >w<)

a feel good post w/ intentions to get ya to smile <3

i appreciate you all so much

lots of love, daisy

aries/1h sun: you’re the embodiment of ambition, that glorious spark of motivation. you’re the image of when dawn breaks, that fiery red hue. you’re who i look at during times of desperation, the light of perseverance in a room full of hopelessness. the feeling of full marks after sleepless nights of frustration, my most prized possession, a taste of satisfaction.

taurus/2h sun: you're the sight of freshly baked goods on display children beg their mothers for a taste. you're a warm cup of coffee enjoyed in the streets of paris, a garden of fresh flowers tended to for several hours. you're my stubborn moments in time where i know im wrong, but i'll still fight. you're the image of precious gifts i buy despite being shy, to express my love.

gemini/3h sun: you’re days of endless conversations, where there seems to be no end in the best possible ways. you’re moments of self realization, times when self discovery is at its best. you are what it feels to be learning new ideas from someone else, a fresh perspective when you’re so introspective. you’re my best friend in moments i needed someone the most.

cancer/4h sun: you’re the feeling of listening to my favourite music from several years ago. the remnants of innocence i still carry as child, a memory so distant it almost feels like a dream. the sounds of happy chatter amongst loud clatter. you're the comforting hug from a mother, that friend that says everythings all right. you're the reassurance in times of doubt.

leo/5h sun: you're my warm summer's day spent looking at art pieces on display. an appreciation card filled with love and adoration, crafted with much consideration. you’re the epitome of loyalty, a light of positivity. the true embodiment of confidence, a genuine compliment given at random. you’re the feel good moments in life when giant smiles are shared amongst us.

virgo/6h sun: you’re long conversations of areas i want to improve in life, where we share each others plans and feel that surge of motivation to be better when we’re with each other. you’re those moments in life people consider mundane, but i call it comfort. a cup of freshly brewed tea and a lingering scent of lavender laundry detergent.

libra/7h sun: you're my days of self care, and a genuine breath of fresh air. you’re what i imagine gentle smiles in a crowd full of people, a charming stranger one hopes to meet again but never will. you're what ideal relationships seem like, the genuine thought of falling in love. a star amongst the dozen, one that shines brightest although all so similar.

scorpio/8h sun: you’re the embodiment of deep conversations held between two lovers. a secret kept for eternity maintaining sweet serenity. you’re the deepest depths of my mind meant for no one, a sweet indulgence made for someone. you’re a puzzle to be uncovered, but only by those you allow to discover.

sagittarius/9h sun: you're my late night drives blasting music without a care. the feeling of an impending adventure, the type of conversations with friends people would have to censor. you're the embodiment of luck and an absurd memory of winning a green duck. fun is wherever you go and that’s something you’ve always known.

capricorn/10h sun: you’re moments in life where all eyes are on you, centre of attention without meaning to. you’re the embodiment of authority and chic elegance, an air of admiration others fawn over from afar. a moment of silent confidence and unwavering determination. you’re the taste of sweet satisfaction among bitter hearts.

aquarius/11h sun: you're my outta pocket conversations held between friends i'll treasure forever, sounds of undistinguishable cackles-borderline cries. you're my otherworldly discoveries in the deep depths of my mind, the feeling of insanity in a crowd full of none. a scientific discovery meant for humanity, a founder of innovation among your collections.

pisces/12h sun: you’re my iridescent hope in a room full of despair, my childish inner thoughts in a world full of adults. you’re impossible to grasp, an illusion i dream. you’re the image of the moon glimmering over an watery scene. you’re who sirens fail to imitate at night, because you’re just so one of a kind. a piscean child, neptune’s pride. a sweet daydream during my loneliest of nights.

© soleius 2023 all rights reserved. do not copy, paste or repost my content anywhere. reblogs are fine :)!

[kagecage]

hi there! i hope you’re having a good day and merry christmas from 🇦🇺 if you celebrate it! i have a little idea that’s been on the top of my head recently and i just need to get it out into the world (this may be a request, or just a thought) but i have been thinking. imagine a ninjago au where it’s thief/tagger (graffiti artist) reader x the ninjas.. like it could be like a specific ninja but i was thinking more smth like this (picture it)

you’re out doing your usual criminal activities and you and the ninja squad have been rivalling forever, and suddenly you get caught off guard in an alleyway where one of them appear outta no where and ambushes you, so they tease and banter for a hot second with you before you land a hit on them and run off.. but then another appears, cocking their head at you.. then they all start just dropping in onto the hoods of abandoned rusty cars and like old crates and stuff, or like behind you and #jawontheground

anyways, there’s no specific genre to that just needed to get this out of my mind 😢 if you could turn it into like a one shot i would be 😱honoured😱 but it’s just a thought ^^

AHHHHH OMG I LOVE THIS SCENARIO MERRY CHRISTMAS ML 🫶🫶 i hope everyone is having an amazing Christmas eve or day!! Now, enjoy!!

ALLEYWAY ART GONE WRONG

Bobbing my hand up and down, shaking the spray can in my hand, i brought up the messy can and sprayed up on the wall, moving it slowly, leaving a dripping effect as the paint slides off the wall. Headphones to a full volume as i hummed along the tunes.

From morning till dawn, my mural was finally finished. I climbed down the rustic ladder and stepped back a few feet to see the masterpiece in front of me. I grinned in success as i laid my eyes upon my art.

Grabbing my bag, i stuffed the rest of the cans into the leather bag and threw it up my shoulder. I crouched down to a periwinkle purse and rummaged through it, the purse had a few dirt and soot on the cover, since it was recently stolen by me.

Finding a lighter and some cigars in the bag, i stuffed the said items into my pocket as i spotted a wallet, reaching my hand out to grab it, i heard some strange noises. Seeming it was some clanging metal. Whipping my head to the right, i spotted no trace of people.

I took my headphones off, being wary of my surroundings. I stood upright and eyed the area where the sound came from, before i knew it i was pinned to the wall aggressively.

Squirming against the strangers grip, they tightened their arms and pressed on my back. I was faced to the wall with my hands behind my back. Groaning and grunting as i tried to pry out of the hard grasp, the stranger started to chuckle from behind me.

“As expected, i knew you were here.” The voice spoke out as he whispered into my ear. I recognized the voice as the earth ninja, Cole brookstone. His hot breath against my ear sent shivers down my spine. He turned me around to face him, my back against the wall with his arms beside me and a knee between my thighs.

“Theres no way to get out of this one, you were a hard catch you know that?” I laid my eyes upon his dark brown ones, i felt his finger tracing my jawline as he chuckled. He moved his arms and started to propel on his elbows against the wall. Our face a mere inch away.

I moved my hand upward, clenching into a fist as i punched his chin from beneath, his teeth hitting each other as he grunted in pain, releasing me from his arms. I lifted myself from the wall and watched as he crouched down while holding his jaw, before he could muster up a word i held the back of his head, feeling his soft jet black hair with a tug.

Pushing his head to the hard surface, his face was met with the wall he was originally on before. His knees against the cold concrete floor while his face was against the brick wall, his hands behind his back with my foot on his wrists tightly.

I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards as i felt a smirk forming on my face, i bent down to his ear, my hand still in his hair and my left foot on his hands against his back. My breath on his ear.

“As much as i love to be put in handcuffs, i dont like the police kind” i whispered and pickpocketed his gi. Throwing his head onto the floor, i darted away from the black ninja, only to realize a dead end, by another one of the ninjas.

Kai jiang smith, the fire ninja, also known as the red ninja. My eyes laid upon his figure as we were about 5 meters away from each other. Backing up and turning away from the said ninja, i was faced with a female with a pool of water in her hands. Knowing it was Nya i groaned and heard a few metal clanging from all around me. Looking around, my eyes were met with the rest of the ninjas on top of garbage bins and old rusted metal of car pieces.

I chuckled and turned my body towards the so called leader who was glaring behind me. “You really had to bring the whole skittles pack, didn’t you Lloyd?” I brought my hand against my hip, watching the Green ninja from afar. “It’s about time you trapped me, although i was having fun with the other ninja” I used my thumb and pointed to the direction of Cole, who was now standing a few meters away from me with some crimson red liquid flowing down his nose.

Lloyd started to get into a fighting stance with his hands glowing green. “Well the fun just started.” He spoke out with a rough voice. Sprinting towards me, he jumped upwards and brought his hand back for a punch, quickly dodging to the right, his fist was met against the floor, leaving a crack in the cement. Feeling a hot temperature behind me, i whipped my head and turned my body just in time, moving away from a fireball from behind me.

“6 verses 1 i see? Kind of unfair dont you think?” Kai and Lloyd was in the air with the intentions of pouncing me, slipping my legs into a split, my thighs and legs were met with the ground, moving my torso to kiss the floor, Kai and Lloyd accidentally attacked each other as they muster apologies.

Lifting my body into a hand stand, i moved my hands and twisted my body into a circular movement, kicking Jay who was dashing towards me.

At the same time he was kicked, he sent lightning at my chest as i grunted in pain, clutching my chest i was quickly met face first to the ground, my hands on my back with a strong grip in my hair.

“And thats payback.” Cole responded as he nodded towards Zane, feeling a cold sensation against my hands, i assumed he was freezing my hands shut. I squinted and groaned as i tried to wiggle my way out of his hold, that led to cole tightening his grip on my hair and pushing my head into the ground.

I bent my knees and started to kick cole, currently my feet were in the air, kicking left and right, Jay then grabbed on of my feet while Nya grabbed ahold of the other. Bringing them together as Zane also freezed my ankles together.

Bringing me to my knees as i was sat upright, “what should we do with her now that we captured her?” Nya asked to the colourful group infront of me. Puffing away a strand of hair in my face i glared at everyone as they were in a small circle, deciding what to do with me.

Kai stayed behind and watched me on the ground, my knees making contact of the cold hard floor, i darted my pupils to the fire head.

Crouching beside me as he sat down with a grunt. We made eye contact, my eyes met his hazels. “Looks like you’re on your knees for me.” He teased and laughed, a frown appearing on my face, i rolled my eyes and shook my head at his behaviour.

“Well then, it’s settled…” Jay turned towards me and kai’s figure on the ground, “You’re staying with us.” Lloyd finished the sentence as he pointed his thumb at himself with a smug grin on his face. I yelled in shock at the answer i was given. “Theres no way you’re making me stay at your stupid hideout!!” I glared my hard eyes at Lloyd.

“Well, we don’t think it’s a good idea to have you back at the prison, since you escaped from that before.” Zane stated.

Groaning, i laid my head back on the wall.

Well this will be a fun night…

A/n: IM SO SORRY THAT THIS WAS RUSHED, i didnt really know how to end it so i just hope this is okay 😓

MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🫶

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 7

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | AO3 | playlist

this is the last chap of my steddie week fic!! i have a little blurb i may do for tomorrow's open ended prompt, but for now, here's the last @steddie-week prompt: misunderstandings

Robin stops him as they’re herding the gremlins into their respective vehicles. You’d think that after nearly five hours of spending the four barely adults’ money would be enough time at the arcade. But no. They’re all fighting them on leaving. As if they all won’t be asleep by the time they get home.

“Once you get it done, you may want to get up early.”

“Uh..what?”

“Steve always goes for a run at like ass o’clock in the morning.” she’s speaking low and fast to try and not draw attention to them, but their normal level of volume with one another is normally 100 times louder than this, so she’s really doing the exact opposite. “If you get up early enough, you can leave it for him while he’s gone.”

“Okayokay, I got it! Now stop making this weird.”

She looks around to find Steve already staring at the two of them questioningly.

“Oh shit… OKAY, YEAH, GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR DATE EDDIE.” she practically yells.

“What the hell, Robin? I don’t have a date!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it’ll be great!” she’s walking away already, shrugging like even she doesn’t know why the fuck she said that. “Call me when you’re home!”

Eddie smacks his palm against his forehead and turns to his van, not even daring to look at Steve again.

He finally does dare once he’s in his van and has started moving, giving Steve a ‘nothing wrong or weird here’ wave as he pulls away.

The expression on Steve’s face is indiscernible. Somewhere stuck between totally blank, and the most devastated look he’s ever seen.

Damnit, Robin.

He only ended up with Max in his van on the way back, so when they get back, he helps her inside, and resigns himself to staying up all night to finish the tape.

He pulls in next to Wayne’s truck at the same time his uncle is coming out the front door, a dufflebag in hand. 

“You off to work early old man?” and he asks as he gets out of his van, it’s only about 9 PM now and his uncle doesn’t usually go in until near midnight. 

“Yep, gettin’ some dinner with the fellas before we head in. Gotta leave shift early to go visit yer aunt.”

Ah. “That time of year is it?”

“Yep, I’ll see ya tomorrow evenin’, son. Don’t be getting into any trouble, y’hear?”

Eddie just shrugs. “You know me.”

“That’s exactly my point.” Wayne says with a crinkly smirk.

He gives his uncle a short hug, and Wayne kisses the top of his head with another ‘be safe’.

Then, because he’s agonizing about it, Eddie spends the next couple hours cleaning the trailer instead of picking the last two songs that will go on his side (listening to said tape while he does).

He’s still got some ideas from before, but only a couple good ones..and not all of them will fit in the time he’s estimated is left on the B side.

It isn’t until he gets to Be My Baby on his second listen through that he knows which one he’s going to add next.

After he’s got that one figured out and recorded, there definitely isn’t enough room left for the rest of the picks, so he adds the one he thinks says the most about how he feels about Steve, the one that says everything he needs to say.

-----

“Robin did say ‘ass o’clock’,” Eddie says to himself, glancing at the clock in his dashboard.

5:13. Yeah, that sounds right.

Eddie lets out a huge cracking yawn. Okay, he’s definitely gonna crash once he gets back to the trailer. He was so wired after finally finishing the tape, he couldn’t sleep even though he wanted to.

He makes it to Steve's street and parks up the road a bit (not wanting the rattle of his van to alert Steve to his presence if he hadn’t left yet), and walks the last leg. The tape in his pocket feels like it weighs a million pounds.

When he finally rounds the bushes at the front edge of Steve’s yard, Eddie feels every cell in his body seize up at once.

Nancy’s car is in the driveway.

What the–

Suddenly, the front door opens. He dives back behind the bushes, peeking through the leaves. You know, like a sane person?

Why the fuck is Nancy leaving Steve's house so early

Why is Steve only wearing those tiny fuckin’ shorts?

Oh no..

Oh shit.

There’s only one fucking reason

This is all wrong! Nancy knows he has feelings for Steve, was that not what that was at the arcade?

She’s with Robin, she didn’t refute it.

Oh fuck, he’s gonna have to tell Robin.

Eddie debates making himself known, let himself barrel over whatever awkwardness may arise, but he’s still got his heart in his pocket, addressed to Steve.. What’s he supposed to do with that then?

“Oh hey Steve, didn’t see you there! Just came by to drop off your very personal property that your best friend stole for me to defile! Nancy? Oh hey, you’re here! What’s up with tha–”

He’s startled out of his thoughts when the door of Nancy's station wagon shuts, the engine turning over. 

She pulls out, thankfully heading away from where he’s hidden.

Eddie watches until she’s out of sight, then jumps again when he hears Steve’s front door close.

Steve does a few hops in place from foot to foot on his front stoop (still shirtless), and starts off on his run the same way Nancy had gone. Had he been able to see shirtless, sweaty Steve whenever he wanted?? He just goes for runs like this every day? Why had no one told him??

‘Oh fuckin’ hell, shut up, shutup!!’ He yells at himself.

Now what?

Eddie sits in the grass in Steve Harrington’s front yard and stares at the back of his mailbox.

Does he still leave the tape? Of course he should, it is Steve’s tape afterall.

But what about the songs? Steve’s not gonna want his bullshit now…

He could go back to his van and re-write the note then come back and leave it. No, he wouldn’t have time now, Steve’s athletic, yeah, but Eddie’s been frozen in his front yard for a while now. He’d be back soon.

Fuck it. 

He’ll drop the tape on the front step, go back home and pack up his shit. Yeah. Good a time as any to get the fuck outta here.

Confessing your feelings to one of your closest friends who very obviously just got back together with his ex not even ten hours after you’d seen him and were very obviously flirting with each other?

Yeah. Not ideal.

Does he have the funds to get the fuck outta here? No. But he’s got enough for gas and he’s got a van. He’ll just load his mattress into the back and be gone before the rest of the town fully wakes up.

Good plan, Eddie’s brain. Thank you, rest of Eddie.

-------

Steve slows to a jog once he can see his house, cooling down from his run on the last little bit of his road, and stopping in his driveway to do some stretches back to the door.

He’s sinking down into his last lunge when he sees the little square of…something…sitting on the front step.

“The hell?”

He stoops down and picks it up, turns it over. There’s a piece of lined paper rubber banded around it.

Peeling off the band, Steve steps inside and unfolds the letter, leaning back on the now closed front door to read

“...oh no…” Steve looks down at the case in his hand. Now he sees why the rubberband was necessary, there’s another folded wad of papers shoved into the cassette’s case, now popped open without the band holding it together.

His heart, previously calmed down from his run, now beat wildly in his chest as he unfurls the short stack of paper.

He reads the first line, ‘8. I Was Made For Lovin’ You...’

“Holy shit.”

Steve books it up the stairs, he’s gotta get showered, he’s gotta get changed, he’s got one more song to add to the tape.

-------

Eddie’s just finished packing up his clothes when his alarm clock radio goes off, the 7am alarm still set for when he has to get up for school.

“...still don’t believe it, he was just leaving OH there must be some misunderstanding! There must be some kind of mistake…” blasts through the tinny speakers.

Nopenopenope, not dealing with that right now.

He slaps the clock around until it finally shuts off its maniacal teasing, and goes back to packing (and blinking away some wayward tears).

He’s just dropped the second bag of clothes and his sweetheart in her case by the front door and is contemplating if his mattress would actually fit in the back of his van, when there’s a knock on the door.

Eddie’s gut freezes mid-flip.

Oh no. Please n–

“Eddie, are you there? It’s Steve. Can I come in?”

‘Don’t move. Don’t make a single sound. Maybe he’ll think you’re not home and just leave.’

“C’mon man, I know you’re in there. You’re van’s out here.”

“Shit.”

Eddie trudges his way to the front door and opens it.

Even with floppy, just-washed, hair and an inside-out polo, Steve’s still the most beautiful person in existence.

“What do you want, Steve?” Wow. Even he’s surprised at how morose he sounds.

“I uh, I got your tape..my tape? I got your note. I added one more song and I thought, maybe, I could–” Steve looks down. “Are you..” his voice pitches high so he clears it. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Mhm.” Eddie can’t look him in the eye. He stares at the porch.

“Where are you–”

“Just going, ‘kay Steve? No need to worry about me being around anymore.” Eddie practically spits, still not looking up at his friend.

“Eddie, what are you–” he cuts himself off, his voice going soft. “Did you not mean what you said?”

That makes Eddie look up at him. Steve’s gaze is now cast downwards, staring blankly at Eddie’s packed bags.

“...I meant every word. Every song, Steve. But that doesn’t matter now, does it?” he’s truly mad now, who does he think he is, trying to act all glum like he wasn’t the one betraying his best friend.

“B-betraying my best–Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?”

Damn! He said that out loud.

“Just go away, Steve. I won’t tell Robin, but you definitely should.” Eddie moves to close the front door and turns back towards his room. He doesn’t hear it close, but he hears the creak of the floor when Steve follows him in.

Of. Course.

“Tell Robin what, Eddie? I already told her how I felt about you, that’s why she stole you the tape in the first plac–”

“Not that! You–” Eddie clenches his fists at his sides and spins back to face Steve. “That you hooked up with her girlfriend last night.” Steve’s face pales and Eddie continues on. “Yeah. I came by to drop off your tape; Robin thought I could leave it there when you left for your run. But lo and behold, what do I see when I come by? Nancy Wheeler’s car in your driveway at ass o’clock in the morning.

“Now, I may be a third time senior, but even I know what the fuck that means. Especially when, not long after I’ve gotten there, the Lady Wheeler herself waltzes out the door with Tiny Shorts McGee following her like a lost puppy.” he gestures at Steve, who’s still frozen in place by the door.

“So yeah, you can just burn those notes for all I care, I don’t even know why I still left it. Whatever. I’m leaving today anyway so you don’t need to worry about me pining hopelessly after you, ‘kay?”

Eddie’s chest is heaving, his eyes are burning with unshed tears, and Steve…starts laughing.

“I fuckin’ knew it!” There are tears spilling freely out of his eyes now. “You’re really good y’know, had everyone fooled. Even me! King Steve is alive and well, everyone!” Eddie spreads his hands wide and yells to no one.” I can’t believe you got me to fall for your good guy schtick. Get the fuck outta my house, Harrington.” Eddie points to the door, stalking forward.

“Eddie! Eddie, wait, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed.” Steve puts his hands out and Eddie stops, crossing his arms and glaring. “Eddie, please, Nancy was only dropping something off for me.”

“Yeah righ–”

“She was! She came by that early because she’s driving to an interview this morning at a paper in Indy. She knew I’d be up for my run anyway, so she stopped to give me the revisions she made to my–you know what, hold on. I’m calling Robin.”

“Steve, I told you to get the fuck out of my house, not go further into it.”

Steve ignores him and goes to the phone, giving Eddie as wide of a berth as he can while he passes. He picks it up and dials.

“I’m not fucking kidding, Harrington, get the fuck out of here–” Eddie’s anger is multiplied tenfold when Steve holds out a finger to shush him.

“Hi Mr. Buckley, this is Steve. I’m sorry to call so early, but can I please speak to Robin? There was a last minute change to our schedule…thank you.’

Eddie watches Steve’s face morph from his customer service expression, to an admittedly frightening pissed off smile when Robin apparently gets on the line.

“Hey Robin! I found my Eddie tape! It’s the funniest thing, I came back from my run and it was sitting on my doorstep.”

Eddie can hear the muffled sound of Robin’s voice coming through the earpiece.

“I know, isn’t that crazy?” Damn, Steve’s passive aggressive voice is…something else. “He must’ve dropped it off while I was gone..why wouldn’t he give it to me in person?”

Steve waves at Eddie to come closer, and when he stubbornly doesn’t, Steve rolls his eyes and comes to him, stretching the cord across the kitchen as he does.

“Hmmm...maybe.. Or maybe something scared him off?” He takes in an over-dramatic sarcastic gasp. “Or maybe, my best friend and soulmate who stole the tape for him, told him to come by at the exact worst time! When she knew a certain ex of mine and current girlfriend of hers was stopping by before leaving to Indy and it scared him off!”

Steve tilts the handset out from his ear so Eddie can hear..there’s complete silence on the other end.

“That would suck, don't you think? Seeing your crush’s ex leaving their house early in the morning when you’re coming over to confess to them?” He continues.

“Oh. My. God. Steve!! I am so so sorry I–”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to Eddie.”

Steve grabs up Eddie’s hand and wraps it around the handset, forcing him to take it, then stomps off into the living room.

Eddie puts the phone to his ear and walks back to the receiver, Robin rambling in his ear the whole way. 

“--ddie, I’m so so sorry! I totally forgot Nancy was dropping off Steve’s paper this morning before she went to her interview! Please please don’t be mad at me, actually, scratch that. Be super mad at me, but definitely not at Steve, okay? I should have remembered, I should have told you, I should hav–”

It’s effective, he feels the anger draining out of him. “Robin, Robin! It’s okay, you’re okay.” Eddie glances over at Steve, who’s pacing up and down the short length of the trailer’s living room. “But now I have a very pissed off Harrington in my house right now…you got any survival tips for me?” he mumbles lowly.

“...Oh! I know, just go over there and kiss hi–her–stupid!” Eddie snorts through his nose, her parents must still be nearby.

“Got it, I’ll try that. Thanks Birdie…for everything.”

She sighs in relief. “You’re welcome, Doofus.”

Eddie slowly hangs up the phone, and turns to where Steve is. Now stationary, he’s got one hand on his hip, and the other is rifling through his hair nervously.

‘Yep. Buckley’s right.’

Eddie takes a deep breath and crosses to Steve in three short strides, grabs his face in both his hands, and kisses him deeply.

Steve responds immediately; he wraps one arm around Eddie’s waist, his large palm centered squarely on his lower back, and one around his arm, lacing his fingers into Eddie’s curls and cupping the back of his head.

Steve pulls their bodies flush and cants his hips into Eddie’s, tugs a breathy moan from Eddie’s throat when the hand in his curls tightens.

Eddie’s nose is pressed uncomfortably into the space between Steve’s nose and cheekbone with how close they’ve smushed themselves together, but Eddie can’t find it in himself to care. 

He’s kissing Steve Harrington. 

There’s a strong thigh slotted between his, and Steve Harrington is kissing him back. 

Eddie moves one hand down to clutch at Steve’s shirt, and pushes the other back, grabbing onto those short hairs on the back of Steve’s neck.

They finally come up for air after one too many teeth clashes, their foreheads coming together.

“Hi.” they breathe out at the same time, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

“We’re kinda idiots, huh?” Steve says, looking cross-eyed between Eddie’s eyes. The hazel of his eyes sparkling with the movement.

Eddie chuckles. “Dingus and Doofus, remember?” he points to each of them in turn, only lifting his pointer finger out of the grip on Steve’s shirt to do so.

“Can I play you the last song now?”

and then they low dance in eddie's living room

Yay!! that's it, thanks for following along with this one!!! here's the last tags :o) @hellomynameismoo, @messrs-weasley, @manda-panda-monium

Here's some notes since it's the last part:

this is the most I’ve ever written in such a short time, I literally wrote each of these chapters the day before their day to be posted….most of it while at work lmao

Steve used a Sony C60 tape. i.e. there’s 60-ish minutes of space on it. before At Last, the songs on the tape totaled 55 min 55 seconds, a perfect amount left for Etta James (ending up at 58 min 54 seconds in total according to my spoofy playlist).

I know that the Eddie half of songs weren’t really…’Eddie music’, but in my head, Eddie likes music for being music. All music is good (like he said to Max in part 5). Plus, he wanted to put songs on the tape that he knew Steve would like/want to listen to.

steve asked nancy to make revisions on his nursing school application essay (he found he quite liked the process of taking care of eddie and wants to go to school for it!)

anyone else just recently realize that Take Me Home Tonight had an allusion to Be My Baby?? anyway, love that, wanted to make that a thing here :o)

and lastly, a couple of little things i LOVED about this fic that i didn’t see anyone else / only a couple people point out:

Steve singing the rubber duckie song to Eddie in part 5

Eddie literally giving Gareth the shirt off his back in part 2 when Tommy threw his pop on him (in my head, this is the same red buffalo check flannel that Gareth ends up cutting the sleeves off of and wears in S4).

that's all!! thanks for reading, friends :o)